#hi guys!!!! made my first ever ficlet type thing!

[gaymikelesbianel]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield Characters: Eleven | Jane Hopper, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers Additional Tags: elmike, platonic elmike, byler, elmax  Summary:

Mike is in love with Will. Deeply and utterly just head-over-heels in love with his best friend. However, he wasn't as discreet about his feelings as he should have been. El knows because she isn't a fool and has suspected it for a while.

In the end, though, they will always be together and be there for each other. Whether it be in a romantic way or not.

[nachosncheezies]

The Bet

Yoooo, so I said I was taking a break, but, the words! I saw the prompt fly across my dash earlier and I am not the one who received it and I do not know who sent it but this is the kind of thing that happens when I attempt menial labor! So, with apologies for stealing and without any proofreading, here's a little M+S "pilot wedding" ficlet.

~~~~~

They were going to pay a visit to Billy Miles. They were drenched, completely soaked through from the cold cemetery rain. Scully sat shivering audibly in the passenger seat. 

Mulder pulled off at the diner. “Our rooms and our clothes are gone. At least it’ll be warm,” he said.

The graveyard-shift waitress took one look at them and took pity. “You look like a coupla drowned rats,” she remarked. “Think we got some towels around here somewhere.” 

Soon they sat across from each other in a booth, stripped down to their trousers and tees, two cups of coffee steaming on the table between them. The waitress had scrounged up a pair of blankets from somewhere too, and they each wore one around their shoulders. Scully’s hair still clung heavily to her ears and down her neck in damp clumps. For all that, she was smiling.

“I gotta say, Scully, I’ve had a couple different partners over the years, but you’re not like anyone the Bureau has tried to send me." 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "How’s that?”

He glanced both ways and then leaned forward across the table, beckoning her closer. She leaned forward too, putting her face close to his. He glanced around conspiratorially one more time.

“You’re fun,” he whispered. She straightened and blinked at him several times, unspeaking. He wondered if he’d been a little too inappropriate, until she once again burst out in the goofiest cackle he’d ever heard. It was even better without the background din of the pouring rain. 

Pleased, he relaxed back against the bench. “You’re a hell of a lot smarter, too,” he complimented.

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m here, because I don’t think Chief Blevins is going to accept ‘alien mind-control implants’ as an explanation for those murders or the graverobbing,” she teased.

“Well they’ve sent you for a reason. If anyone can find some other rational explanation, Scully, I’m sure it’ll be you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, playing with a spoon in her coffee.

“…Bet ya won’t, though.”

She pursed her lips. “What’s the wager?”

He had been teasing, rhetorically, but decided to see where it might go. “Loser buys lunch when we get back to DC?”

She sized him up over the rim of her cup as she took a long and thoughtful sip, then smirked as she put it down. “Deal,” she said.

Hours later, dry and fed, he made to lead her from the diner. “Mulder?” she called from just behind him. He stopped with the door halfway open and looked down at her. “You’re fun, too.” He caught the briefest glimpse of her cheeky grin as she brushed past him, ducking under his arm, and led him out into the humid morning.

~~~~~

Another lunchtime in the diner, and she was blushing furiously.

“I had no idea crackpots were your type,” he breathed with over-exaggerated delight. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I only meant that… if I were to settle down some day, I’d want him to be fun, and- and engaging to talk to. It’s hardly on my radar now. I’m just getting started with my career, I haven’t taken much time for that sort of thing.”

Mulder shrugged, leaned back and slung his elbows over the back of the bench on either side of himself. “Whaddya say we raise the stakes?" 

"Huh?”

“On our bet.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Marry me.”

She dropped her chin and her brows flew up and together in the most incredulous expression he’d ever seen. It was almost worth the risk just to see that face. “Uhhh huh,” she said, drawing out the first syllable.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a 'guy like me’ then.” He threw up air quotes.

“And what do I get if I win?" 

"Bragging rights?” She arched one brow at him again. “I’ll tell everyone that you run the department….” She pinned him with a look that suggested he must be joking. “…And you can have whatever you want. And I mean anything. Blank check. If it’s mine, it could be yours. You don’t even have to decide today. Non-transferrable, no expiry. Just let me know when you figure it out.”

She was delirious with exhaustion. No, that wasn’t enough. There was definitely something in the water in this town. She was compromised. That was the only explanation for why her mouth started moving before her brain in that moment. “I won’t do it in a church,” she said.

He blinked at her, a little stunned that she was testing his bluff. “I’m an atheist,” he hedged.

“I’m Catholic,” she answered.

“Right, so behind God’s back, then.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and his heart hammered in his chest as he realized that she might actually, really be considering calling him on it. As he realized that he might actually, really want her to. “Annulment will remain on the table at all times,” he offered, just to see what she would do.

She straightened, turned her torso a little bit sideways, as if having her shoulder angled partway between them might allow her a better perspective on his character and sanity. She continued to squint at him.

“You’re on,” she finally said, and he wasn’t sure whether the ground fell out from beneath him, or whether it had launched him into space.

~~~~~

She probably could have found a more comprehensive explanation for it all, but the truth was, she didn’t try that hard. Definitely something in the water.

They went to the magistrate on their last afternoon in Oregon. She looked at him and wondered who the hell carried their birth certificate around with them on a case, before reminding herself that she did, too. He looked at her and wondered who this gutsy little firecracker was, if she might actually be as crazy as he was. Each looked at the other and wondered if one of them would blink.

Neither did.

They both left town hall with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a deep, newfound respect for the nerves of absolute steel on the person beside them.

In DC, he accompanied her to HR and then to the Bureau’s legal advisory department so she could make the customary arrangements recommended for all new field agents. Neither made mention of their new marital status. His name was added beside her mother’s as an emergency contact, her name was added beside his father’s. He witnessed her living and final wills, the latter leaving whatever she had at the time of her passing to her parents, with one other line reading “For Fox W. Mulder, Moby Dick.” He didn’t ask.

He went to his own lawyer the following week, and updated his will to bequeath her an amount that could not be called paltry, but which he deemed not to be overly extravagant either, and a sealed note that just said, “Don’t lose that laugh.”

[imagrindylow]

Plz can you do the HLC reaction to finding out MC is a mermaid/siren (pirates of the Caribbean type of siren yk) and baby they found out because of her voice or they saw her transformed. thank you ❤️

Hi anon! Thanks for the request, I did my best! I actually am not familiar with the sirens in the Pirates movies, so I went more with mermaids as they are in the HP universe. So, unrecognizable and kinda scary looking. But! I've written a few little ficlets of the guys reacting to finding out MC's secret, in one way or another. Hope you like it!

Sebastian, Ominis, Leander, Garreth, Amit and Everett react to finding out that MC is a mermaid

Sebastian & Ominis The pair is in the Slytherin common room, lounging on one of the sofas, reading and getting classwork done, when they hear a commotion coming from near one of the large windows that look out into the black lake. Ominis wasn’t concerned, it was a regular occurrence for the younger Slytherins to spend time at the large windows searching for mermaids – he made sure of that himself – telling them all within their first days that if they were patient at the windows, it would pay off for them. He was joking, of course, never in his 7 years at Hogwarts had his wand ever detected such entity outside the common room windows. But it was hilarious to him to hear them trying anyway.

But this was different. Sebastian laid his book down on the coffee table and sat forward, watching the kids and listening to their frantic and overlapping exclamations. He watched the window and couldn’t believe his own eyes. Surely he was dreaming. He rubbed his eyes in his hands, then shook Ominis’s shoulder when he was sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. There was a mermaid at the window.

Ominis couldn’t believe what Sebastian was saying, as the brunet drug him over to the window hastily by his sleeve. Sebastian stared out the window in shock, as the mermaid swam right up to him, their hands pressing against the glass up to each others. This was no ordinary mermaid, did it just wink at him? Merlin, where was MC? They had to see this!

Ominis raised his wand to the window, touching it to the glass, wanting to get a better mental image of what was happening. Sebastian narrated that the mermaid pressed its finger to the glass, meeting with the glowing tip of Ominis’s wand through the pane.

“This isn’t just any mermaid… This is MC…” Ominis whispered to Sebastian, not wanting their other housemates to overhear. He barely believed his own words as they left his mouth, but his wand would never mislead him like this.

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his delight as he laughed loudly. “Ha! I knew they were special but this is something else.” He was proud to be friends with such an interesting being.

Ominis was beside himself with shock, wonder, and amazement. They wondered why MC had never told them before, they must have had their reasoning. He was honored they revealed this secret to him at all, even as indirectly as they did so.

Leander & Garreth Leander had agreed to accompany Garreth on an endeavor to restock his potions ingredients. Due to his frequent experimentation in the cauldron, he was either low or completely our of several things. List in hand and a satchel full of empty jars over his shoulder, Garreth led his friend down a path that would take them alongside the black lake where they’d need to gather several things.

The sun was beating down on their backs, it was a welcome comfort to kick off their shoes and socks and roll up their trousers to wade through the cool, shallow water at the shore of the lake, even if it meant gathering leeches and stuffing them into jars. Maybe it was the heat playing with their minds, but each of them had sworn they felt like they were being watched as they hunted carefully for Garreth’s ingredients.

After what must have been two hours of finding leeches, various aquatic plants and weeds, bugs and anything else that Garreth deemed as “possibly useful,” the two of them ditched their bags of jars on the shore and took to kicking about in the lake and splashing each other in an effort to cool off.

The feeling of being watched became overwhelming suddenly, causing both of them to shift their eyes over the dark glassy surface of the water. Garreth spotted the tip of a shining, finned tail darting down under the water, but missed what it was attached to. The two of them stood frozen and waiting to catch another glimpse of whatever that was.

It was almost like whatever that thing was waited until their backs were turned to appear again, this time surfacing noticeably and splashing the boys with a delicate webbed hand. They turned in an instant and without even processing what they were seeing, started splashing back. How lucky were they, getting to interact with a mermaid like this? It was practically unheard of. They couldn’t wait to meet up with MC and tell them.

That evening in the common room, the boys sought out MC, ecstatic to tell them what they had seen. They started talking over each other in excitement, to which MC put a finger to each of their lips, shushing them. MC smirked at them before admitting, “I know, I was there” with a sly little wink.

Both Leander and Garreth went as red as their hair, in utter shock and disbelief. They had the ability to wield ancient magic AND they were a mermaid? How could one person be so bloody brilliant? They were honored to be let in on MC’s little secret, and they would make future plans to hang out in the lake together.

Amit & Everett The unlikely friends were taking a night time fly around the castle and surrounding grounds. Everett was pretty limited to flying at night, needing to be a bit sneaky with borrowing the school brooms, as he was not exactly permitted to use them outside of class time. The time of day worked great for Amit, always happy for any reason to get out at night and see the stars, and if he was being honest with himself, he could use the practice on a broom. Everett was willing to give him some pointers.

They flew low to the ground, Amit being a little bit nervous to get too high, and Amit followed behind Everett as he flew over the lake. Everett was enjoying himself, the wind through his hair was something he’d never tire of.

Amit flew more slowly, seeking the sights rather than the thrill of speed. He was taking in the reflection of the stars on the surface of the lake when something caught his eye, the glimmer of scales reflecting the moonlight just under the surface of the water. He called out for Everett, and doubled back around to get a better look, only to see the creature was following him.

Everett hovered his broom beside Amit’s and the two peered down into the water together, the devious face of a mermaid just below the surface was looking up, shifting its gaze between the two of you. The mermaid surfaced and two long, pale green arms reached towards the boys dangling legs, making them speed off on their brooms, screaming into the night as they made their way back to the castle. The mermaid laughed, diving back under the water.

Back in the safety of the Ravenclaw common room, the boys got ready for bed and immediately tucked in, each having nightmares of the close call they had with the creature in the lake.

The following morning in the great hall MC joined them, sitting between the pair, noting their sleep filled eyes, and asking what had kept them up. Amit explained the run in from the night before, with Everett nodding along, adding in exaggerated commentary where ever he could.

MC laughed, and apologized for scaring them, fessing up to her little secret. Both boys started berating her. “I could have fallen in and drowned!” “What if I lost the school broom in the water!” She couldn’t help but chuckle and wrap an arm around both their shoulders. Both had many questions about her ability to transform, and she answered them thoroughly, both boys ending up being even more intimidated of her in the end.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Redeeming big brother; Steve Harrington x pre-teen sis reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this is a pretty short sweet little ficlet that went around my head for awhile. Like I said I’ve been wanting to write a Steve Harrington fic since s.2 came out but I didn’t have the time nor the inspiration to write him a story until I decided to first do a platonic fic and BOOM!! Cause let’s face it, Steve is the Babysitter and I could imagine him being the type of brother that I made him in this oneshot so I hope you guys enjoy this little fic and until next time :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

_________________________________________________________

“Look all I’m saying is that he could’ve at least had his parents drive to pick you up.” Steve said to me.

“I told you Steve, Tony said he was carpooling with his friends because his dad’s mustang was in the shop.”

“The shop right yeah.” He muttered.

“You know you didn’t have to drive Dustin and I to the Snowball, we could’ve asked his mom.”

“No, no I needed to make sure that little shit didn’t try anything with you.”

“Eww Steve what the hell! Dustin and I do not like each other like that. You know that.”

“Still I just wanna make sure that even when you’re dressed all……you know—”

“Barbie? A slut?”

“Hey! You are not that don’t ever call yourself that even if you’re joking. You-you look beautiful. Really you do. It’s just…..” he took a deep sigh as clenched the stirring wheel.  “You don’t dress up this nice like most girls do. And I’d hate for those boys to suddenly see you and think they need to jump your bones.”

“They’re not like that Steve. Plus Max will have my back, and you know how savage we can be together.”

“Believe me I saw it for myself. All I’m saying is don’t let any boy try to take advantage of you. Especially this Bobby guy.”

“His name’s Tony.”

“That’s what I said, Darrell.” I rolled my eyes as Steve pulled into Dustin’s curb and honked the horn.  

We sat there for a few minutes which allowed me to check my makeup, nothing too extreme just some blush, a bit of eye shadow to match my blue dress and checked to make sure my hair was alright.  

“Hey, c’mon now.” Steve lifted the visor up.  I looked at him annoyed but he assured me with a gentle look in his eyes “I already told you, you look beautiful.”

I’ll admit.  He really was trying to be the brother he once was.  Ever since he became ‘King Steve’ he never wanted anything to do with me. Said I was too nerdy to be with someone ‘cool’ like him.  It really hurt to lose my brother like that to the poison that was popularity.

And he only seemed to get worse as the years went by, especially when he was involved with the whole Nancy ‘the Slut’ Wheeler vandalization at the local theater.  But ever since he got involved with the Upside down, and he broke free of that dick Tommy Hagan and that bitch Carol, he started to change.

Especially this past year.  He’s even tried to mend our bond but when the events of the Upside down began to come back with Will, the Demodogs and Max’s asshole brother Billy (not Upside down related, he’s just an asshole. Nearly killed me, Dustin and Lucas while we were biking home from school on Halloween).  And Nancy broke up with Steve, he seemed a bit more—emotionally vulnerable.

He wanted to be with me but I had other problems at the time with Dustin and his ‘secret pet’.  That’s when Steve, Dustin and I became the starting team in this whole demodogs thing, then one disaster fell after another until we were finally able to get the gate close permanently and get rid of all the demodogs.

Finally Dustin came racing down and I couldn’t stop but stare at the nest on top of his head.

“Thanks for the ride guys.” He said getting into the back seat.

“Uhh Dustin, what the hell happened to your head?” I asked him.

“What?”

“Your head. I’ll need to find Diana Ross’ number because I think I just found her hair.”

“Shut up!” Dustin snapped at me.  “My hair does not look like hers.”

“You’re right you’re right. It actually looks like if Elvis was given a bad perm.” I laughed.

“Alright you little shit ease up on him. Ignore her Dustin, she’s just jealous because it took her five hours just to get her hair like this.” I punched Steve’s arm and ordered him.

“Just drive asshole.” As Dustin giggled from the backseat, Steve turned the car back on and he drove us to the school.

He pulled us in and we could see from the cat some of the Snowball decorations and could hear the music playing loudly.

“Hey Hover switch seats with me, I need to check the mirror now.” Dustin said.

“Dustin you know I was kidding right. You look great.”

“She’s right. Now remember, when you walk in there.”

“Pretend I don’t care.” Dustin said.

“You don’t care.”

“I don’t care.”

“Honestly why did you have to say that? That’s literally the worst advice ever Steve.” I scoffed rolling my eyes and shaking my head solemnly. “Dustin continues to listen to you and he’ll be single until he’s 30.”

“Okay that’s overexaggerating. Don’t listen to her Henderson. You’re gonna go in there, look like a million bucks, and you’re gonna slay them dead.”

“Like a lion.” Dustin then let out a purr to which both Steve and I cringed.

“Yeah don’t do that.” Steve told him bluntly.

“Ever again.” I also told him.

“Right.” Dustin agreed before he got out of the backseat and I followed suit.  Soon pulling up behind us was a large black SUV it slowly came to a stop before the front door opened to reveal one of Tony’s friends, Andrew.

“Thanks mom. See yah at 10.” Soon the back door opened and more of Tony’s friends piled out until Tony was the last one to come out. My heart fluttered in my chest as my palms started to grow a bit sweaty.

“What you just gonna sit there and gawk (Y/n)?” Dustin said to me.

“Shut up Henderson.” I said.  I took a deep breath and took about two steps forward only to stop and see someone else coming out of the SUV as well.  It was the biggest bitch in the whole seventh grade, Jenna LoDuca and she was holding Tony’s hand.

“Thanks baby.”

“No prob babe. Ready to head in?” Tony asked her.

“Yeah thanks.” She said as they walked hand in hand towards the gym following behind Tony’s friends.

My heart shattered and fell into my stomach as I looked down. So he really didn’t care.  He never cared to begin with. He didn’t even have the guts to tell me that he was gonna take out Jenna instead of me, he could’ve at least told me.

“(Y/n)? Hey it’s…..” Dustin started off but I didn’t want to hear it.  I took off running as tears fell down my face.

I don’t know where I ended up but all I know was that I wasn’t at the back entrance where the dance was but I was still within the school grounds.  I kicked the gravel under my feet harshly scuffing up the 1 inch high heeled shoes mom got me on her last business trip (even though I hate anything that isn’t a sneaker or sandal on hot days).

“(Y/n).” I sniffled and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t wanna hear it Steve!” I snapped.

“Okay. Do you…….do you want me to take you home?” he asked in a nervous, unsure tone.

“No. Because then I’ll have done all this for nothing. Plus Jenna will rub it in my face Monday.”

“Wait she bullies you?”

“It doesn’t matter Steve. Just go home and don’t bother me with this anymore.” I walked back towards the school and tried to clean my face off as best as I could before entering the school with a big fake-ass smile on my face.

I met with the guys at the table and they were surprised to see me come walking in.

“(Y/n) you—you actually came in.” Mike said.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because of Je—” Dustin started off by saying but Max kicked him in the shin.

“Don’t listen to them, there’s more to life than stupid boys. C’mon (Y/n) let’s get something to eat I’m getting a bit peckish.” Max came over and took me away from the boys.

“Thanks Max, I owe yah.”

“I’ll remember that for later. But for real, don’t worry about those turd wards. You’re more badass than the two of them are popular.” Max said playfully shoving my shoulder with hers.  That got a small smile out of me as we reached the food stand and we each got a plate of crackers, cookies and a cupcake.

As the dance went on, it soon came time for the slow dancing. At first Max declined Lucas’ offer to dance but since I could tell how long Lucas had probably rehearsed this, I told her it was okay so she and Lucas went to the dance floor together.

Then a girl from mine and Will’s art class came up and asked Will to dance (even though she called him Zombie boy).  Then Dustin went over to a group of popular girls to ask one of them to dance leaving Mike and me alone for the first song (it’d just be awkward to dance together).

When the next song came on, we both took notice of El coming into the gym now, all dolled up and pretty.  Mike stood up and walked towards her without saying a word to me (but truthfully he didn’t have to).

I was now all alone at my table, in fact looking around every one of my peers had a partner or were in their friend groups chatting along the sides of the gym.  And just ahead of me I could easily spot Jenna and Tony dancing together, hell they pretty much remained in my visual range throughout the whole slow song montage.

It was then my favorite Lionel Richie song, Truly began playing through the speakers.  I shifted in my seat uncomfortably and was just tempted to leave the gym and stay outside for the rest of the dance.

“Hey little Hover.” I looked up and saw my brother Steve wearing his homecoming tux and sporting his Risky Business shades.

“Steve? What are you…how did you get in here? You didn’t ask to volunteer.”

“I know. I’m not a volunteer. I’m your date.”

“Steve……”

“C’mon please. Don’t make me get on my hands and knees begging over this song cause you know I will. In front of all your friends and these people I’ll…..”

“Okay! Okay you big hairy oaf!” I said getting up and took his hand before we went over to the dance floor.  We stood before each other and he took my right hand into his left while his right rested along my waist and my other hand rested on his.

“He wasn’t worth it.” I looked at him as he lead me in the first few steps of our slow dance.  “Your tears. Boys this age are incredibly stupid and he’s gonna regret leaving you for that.” He gave a slight gesture of his head towards Tony and Jenna who were looking at us.

“Maybe it’s because I really don’t live up to the Harrington name.”

“Hey now…...”

“No Steve it’s true. I mean, look at her. She’s popular than me, she’s smart, and she’s way prettier than me.”

“Now that’s total bullshit.” He gave me a gentle spin before bringing me back into him.  “First of all you are smarter than your older brother. In fact you’re too smart. I swear dad never shuts up about how my 13 year old sister is smarter than me, a senior in high school. Second, being popular really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially if it changes you for the worst.”

He stroked a baby strand of hair from my forehead and tucked it back over my teased hair.

“It makes you cruel and makes you blind to what’s in front of you. I swear the last thing I remember was you clinging onto your teddy bear you won at the 4th grade fair and now here you are. A teenager in the works who I think is the most beautiful girl in all of Hawkins.”

“Even more beautiful than Nancy Wheeler?” I asked skeptically.

“Especially more than Nance.” He said without hesitation.

“Best not let her hear you say that.”

“Truthfully I think you were her favorite Harrington more than me.” I softly laughed.  “No I swear, she’d always ask me when she’d see you. She even said at times she could trade Mike in for you.” Steve said through his laughing as he spun me outward our hands keeping a firm hold on each other before I spun back into him just as the song came to my favorite part.

Right as Lionel’s voice hit that crescendo, I was resting my head against my brother’s chest as my arms wrapped around his waist.  I felt him slightly pick me up and he placed my feet gently on top of his as I heard him softly sing along to the ending of the song.

It brought me back to the early days of my childhood when Steve and I were the best of friends.  Whenever I was sad or felt lonely from mom and dad’s constant work travels, Steve always played a slow song  over dad’s radio, he’d have me standing on top of his toes and the two of us would sway like this as he’d sing the song to me.

After the dance was over, I was just getting into bed when I heard a knock at my bedroom door.

“Knock, knock.” Steve’s voice spoke from the other side of the door.

“Speak friend and enter.” I said.

“You know I don’t speak that nerd language.”

“Then you cannot pass.” I teased him.  He knocked again and I couldn’t help but say, “I hear yah knockin, but you can’t come in!”

“(Y/n) at least tell me your decent.”

“Yes I’m in my jammies.” He opened the door and came right on in.  “No respect for your sister’s room. Why do you think I asked you to speak the password? It’s not that hard, the password is Mellon.”

“I’ll slow dance with you, sing to you, even fight interdimensional monsters with you. But never on this green earth will you get me to speak that nerd language.” He said as he came over and sat at the edge of my bed.

“It’s not nerd language is Elvish. Sindar to be exact.” Steve buried his face into his hand groaning softly.  “Hey, Dustin and I got you to watch Star Wars with us and you loved it. Which makes you a nerd too Stevie.”

“First of all just because I enjoy it doesn’t make me a ner—okay I see what you’re doing munchkin.” He said as he ruffled my head. “So, your first school formal. Besides the little jerk that shall remain nameless in this house, how was it before I got there?”

“It was alright. Mostly Max and I talked and of course the guys were giving Dustin a hard time with his hair. I think his natural curls just really threw the Farrah faucet spray off.”

“Yeah it did. But the kid needed the reassurance. Now correct me if I’m wrong but did he call you Hover back in the car.”

“Hover is my D&D character’s name. She’s a level 16 rouge assassin. Sometimes Dustin calls me that outside of the game.”

“So you used my nickname for you for your nerdy game?”

“Steve it’s not…..” he raised his hand and continued.

“I was just going to say it’s actually kinda sweet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Though I wish it was still between us. After all I’ve been calling you that since you could walk.” He said booping my nose. “Well it’s late, you should get some sleep.” At that point I let out a soft yawn and got under the covers.  “Goodnight Hover.” He stood up but before he left my room I grabbed his hand. I sat up and hugged him before kissing his cheek. “What was that for?”

“For being my big brother.”

“But I…..”

“I know you’ve been an asshole for the past few years now but in the past year you really have been trying. I could see you putting in the effort to try and fix things between us. You could’ve stayed the way you were, or worst become like Billy.”

“I’d rather get eaten by one of those dog things than ever raise a hand to you like that asshole does to Max.”

“I know. That’s why I’m grateful to have a brother like you. You may not be smart, but you’re a damn good big brother and I love you for that.” A smile came at the corner of his lips as he ruffled my hair again before leaning forward and kissed the crown of my head.

“You’re not so bad either squirt.” He pressed his forehead against mine and continued, “And I love you too.” I smiled softly as Steve pressed another kiss to my forehead before we told each other goodnight and he left my room and I soon fell fast asleep.

[ribbondee]

My Tiny Genius, a SpongeBob SquarePants ficlet

After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up.

Fic is under the cut!

There were many words to describe the Chum Bucket, and pleasant certainly was not one of them. Overall it reeked of filth, grime and all sorts of health code violations. A certain musty odor seemed to always linger in the air, no matter how much air freshener one used. Truly, it was a wonder this place was still in business. There were many theories as to why, but truly no one except for the restaurants’ owners really knew.

One of said owners was in the lobby, waiting as she always did for her husband when he was off with one of his schemes. Karen was standing in the room in her mobile apparatus, her screen blank as she waited ever so patiently. Best case scenario Plankton would simply fail as usual. Worst… the Chum Bucket was blown to smithereens again. Neither outcome was good, but it was obvious which one was more favorable.

Finally, a small tapping sound came from one of the doors. He was back. Karen wheeled over to the red double doors and let the poor man in. He was a mess. He was covered in ash and some bruises, and she was immediately concerned. “Plankton-” she began.

“Not now honey.”

Plankton sulked off, no doubt on his way to the lab. “Plankton!”

The tiny organism turned around to face his computer wife. “What?”

“I have dinner ready.”

“I ain’t in the mood for holographic meatloaf.”

He turned back around and went on his way. Karen put her robotic arms on where her hips would be and rolled on after him. “What kind of attitude is that? At least let me patch you up! It looks like it hurts!”

“No it- ow. Ok fine.”

Karen bent over and picked up the creature in her metal palms and gently lifted him up and began to wheel him into the lab area. She set him down on a counter and got out the first aid kit that was for this sort of thing.

“How’d it go”, she said as she began to clean his wounds.

“OW! Easy!”

“Sorry sweetie. But how did things go? Didja get that formula this time?”

“What does it look like? Nope. I failed again. Always.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I… I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“What do you think?! I can’t get that formula! Krabs is always one step ahead!”

“Oh hon, surely you’ll get it next time”, Karen said, giving Plankton a little pat on the back which caused him to fall flat on his face.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

Plankton stood, and sighed. “That’s what you always say. I always go for it again, and it blows up in my face! Literally! Look at all these inventions. Failures. All of them.”

Plankton’s eye was beginning to tear up.

Karen felt her circuits beginning to tingle with pity. Poor little fella. She remembered all of the earlier formula-nabbing schemes, and how motivated and eager her husband was. With each failed plan Plankton grew ever more weary, which was odd as he was usually quite the tenacious type.

“Oh Plankton”, Karen said tenderly.

“Oh Karen! I’m a failure!”

Karen gasped in horror. “You are NOT!”

“How?”

“For starters, you build all these amazing inventions that are way ahead of their time! You’re brilliant!”

“Go on.”

“You went to college!”

“Yeah!”

“And you're gonna GET that formula!”

“Yeah!”

Plankton made sure to say the last year extra loudly, clearly filled with his usual overinflated ego once again. It usually never took too long to reignite his drive via a small pep talk, something Karen was very happy to provide for her beloved single celled spouse.

“I am going to get the formula, and make Krabs eat dirt!”

“I know you are, honey. But I think you should rest or eat first.”

“No I- ow. Yeah alright.”

“That's the spirit, little guy. Now let's go and relax for a while. You've earned it.”

Karen picked up her now relieved husband, and began to wheel them towards their living quarters so the poor little thing could rest.

“I love you, my tiny little genius.”

“Heh, love you too babe.”

And so the pair of strange lovers were off, for now they would relax and perhaps discuss oh so evil, diabolical and lemon scented plans for the future.

THE END

[combatfaerie]

Ficlet: Not Ready

Story: Not Ready Word count: 985 Relationship(s): Becky/Seth Warnings: Based off an excerpt from Becky's book. Most (but not necessarily all) dialogue is from the book; no copyright infringement is intended. Also available at: AO3 and Wattpad and dreamwidth Summary: Becky's not happy about her engagement. Seth isn't either, but he's more vocal about it.

"What the fuck?"

Seth didn't mean to yell, but his tone was sharp enough that Bayley flinched back. "I know, I know. I mean, he's not my favourite guy or anything, but... as long as she's happy, right?"

"But she's not!" Seth had read books where someone was fuming, but this was the first time he truly felt it for himself. Becky's current boyfriend was some MMA guy—not a very good one, in Seth's opinion, since he hardly ever got any press—and whenever she talked about him, she seemed to deflate. He didn't think the relationship was abusive—at least he hoped not—but the guy definitely wasn't appreciating Becky the way he should.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Bayley groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "I thought you already knew, though! She told me and Char and Sasha...."

Seth wasn't hurt by the slight, though. He knew exactly why Becky hadn't told him on her own. "Don't worry about it."

Bayley winced again. "Don't make a thing out of it, Seth. She's already having a rough time."

"I'm not going to tell her that you told me, don't worry." Seth gave Bayley a quick hug and stepped back. "I just... want something better for her, you know? Someone who deserves her." He tried to get back to his workout, but his mind just wasn't in it anymore, so he headed to the locker room. As he was looking in his bag for his towel, though, his fingers bumped up against his phone and before he knew it, he was tapping out a text with such vitriol he thought he might crack the phone screen. "What the fuck are you doing? You were just in my room crying about this motherfucker a few months ago." His thumb hit Send before he could second-guess himself, even though it made his gut clench. "Someone needs to be honest with her," he muttered as he set down his phone. Maybe she hadn't confided in Charlotte or Sasha or Bayley as much as he assumed; maybe they didn't know how bad it was. But he wasn't about to let an awesome friend ruin her life.

Part of him was waiting for his phone to ring, to hear her indignant on the other end; part of him dreaded any single sound. When her text notification tone rang out, Seth was equal parts disappointed and relieved. Talking over text would eliminate a lot of stress, but something in him needed to hear her voice, to hear that she was actually okay. "I know, I know." For a moment, he almost thought the text was from Bayley since it echoed her apologetic tone from earlier, but it was clearly from Becky's number. "Look, I'll be honest. I don't think I'll go through with it. But if you're not ready to break up, how are you supposed to respond?"

Seth wasn't sure how to respond to that. He'd always been on the proposing side, never the receiving, and he tried to imagine a polite way to decline that left the door open for the future. "Fair, fair." It was a lacklustre reply, but he didn't know what to say that wouldn't be rude or presumptuous. For better or worse—he flinched at the familiar saying now—Becky sent him a photo before he could respond. The teardrop-shaped ring was nice enough, he supposed, but as with her partner, he thought Becky deserved better. Pear-shaped? Isn't that slang for something going wrong? He kept that to himself too, though. Becky needed support right now. "Have you told your family?" That seemed safe enough. His fingers itched with all the words he wanted to type: Don't do this. You deserve better.

There was a long enough pause that Seth wondered if his message had gone through, or if Becky was upset enough to ignore him. "Ma thinks I'm ruining my life."

In such stark isolation, the admission cut deep; Seth could practically see the desolation in Becky's eyes. That would have been a tough conversation for her, given how close she was with her parents. How can I cheer her up? he wondered. Becky loved chatting, so maybe if he asked her a question, she'd be able to find some positives in the situation. "Was it at least a cool proposal?"

"Yeah." Becky still seemed hesitant. "We went out to the Santa Monica Pier and he suggested going on the Ferris wheel," she began.

But you hate heights, Seth thought. Didn't that fool know anything about her at all?

"So I finally agreed and it stopped when we were at the top—I don't know if that was planned or not—and he proposed. He had someone waiting with champagne and bouquet when we finally got off...."

It was hard to tell without hearing her voice, but Seth didn't get any sense of joy from her story. He thought back to their first meeting, where he had approached her and she had regaled him with her life story for almost an hour. This sounded like a recitation of facts, something she was trying to convince herself of rather than something she felt. When Becky seemed to be done, Seth took a moment to compose his reply. "I hope it works out," he finally typed. It was vague enough that it could mean almost anything: I hope you leave him. I hope you find someone better.

"Thanks. Me too." Even Becky's briefest texts—ones about workout reminders or travel times—were rarely that short, and it was the last one in the thread for that day. Seth thought about replying with anything—a picture of his dog, a goofy selfie, a song recommendation—or calling instead, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Something else was nagging at him, a question he didn't have the courage to ask, not even of himself.

[x-amount-verbs]

Eh fuck it. I’m not done, but here’s the first part of a three part ficlet starring boxer!Silco (more like fighter!silco in this, cause I did research on ufc, but whatever). I just named it the same thing as @aromansoul ‘s original artwork ^^’ Idk if/when the rest will get posted, but this is been mocking me from my drafts, and to refrain from posting ch9 of A Helping Hand, I’ll just post this instead OuO’

Zaun Underground Champion (1/3)

[silco x gn!reader*] [sfw] [boxer!silco] [part 1 of 3; short] [pt 2]

*there’s a pejorative that some might see as gendered femme but I don’t think it is, so idk, up to you

You took notice of him the first night you went.

He didn’t look like the type of guy who could last in the ring, and - honestly - you kind of expected him to lose. Maybe even in a spectacular fashion. He was too scrawny— not bone thin, but he didn’t have the heft of some of the other guys you saw that night; there was no way he could stack up to someone like, for instance, the last big name champion, Vander.

(Not that you’d ever found your way to underground fighting tournaments before now, but that was the name circulating the crowd. Apparently he’d given up the profession shortly after his championship a few years ago.)

His first bout was against someone of similar build, both announced by the ref, both names slipping your mind almost immediately. What didn’t slip your mind was the nickname. The Eye of Zaun. It wasn’t hard to guess why.

That first bout was tame, though you didn’t realize it at the time. Both fighters tried for grappling more than strikes, each escaping the hold of the other. It was a slow burn for that night, until the Eye got his opponent in a hold and made a solid strike to the kidneys. Suddenly things amped up, but not for long. First round was called on time, but in the second round he landed a blow to the opponent’s stomach that put him down and in a submission hold, leg ready to break before the guy tapped out.

Second bout earned him a few rough body shots, but he still came out on top. He was nearly fouled on an iffy elbow strike, but no ref called it despite the uproar from a few enthusiastic attendees outside the ring. Third fight was an absolute mess. The Eye may not have had the mass of some other fighters that night, but he certainly had the brutality. Both sides got fouled for violations to the loose rules of the tournament, strikes that left both men bloody and swollen, the Eye practically spitting fury after his opponent scratched at the man’s already scarred face.

That was the first night you saw him.

But it wasn’t the last.

It became your guilty secret, hearing about the matches from customers, figuring out how to get to them (when you could, with your odd schedule). Every night you went, you hoped to see him. The speed, the agility, the grace of the man was unparalleled. A scrappy underdog at first sight, if you saw him from the wrong side; a truly imposing threat if you saw the other.

He stayed high in the rankings for his class, even participating in a few cross-class fights for higher winnings. He won probably 90% of his matches. The man was good. An expert at weaving and dodging, with wiry arms that could get around a man’s neck and choke him out. Even if there were a few dirty tricks he pulled on occasion, sometimes getting called for it and other times slipping it in unnoticed.

You never expected to actually meet the man in person. But after a match held conveniently close to your workplace, you lingered in the area after most had cleared out, visiting one of your favorite food stalls around the corner.

When you came back, needing to pass the fight venue to reach your bar, you spotted him leaned against the wall, hand cupped around a lighter, cigarette loosely resting between his lips.

You couldn’t help but stare. There was a butterfly bandage across a thin laceration that marred his forehead, and the fire wasn’t the only thing burning dimly in the shadow of the rickety roof/second level of the venue building; there were tiny points of glow in the deepest furrows around his eye, not to mention the eye itself, like an ember on coal. From afar the darkened skin around the eye - or even the eye itself - might pass for an injury if not for the sparks.

He spotted your stare, and raised a brow, apparently unfazed by any pain from the now scrunched wound on his forehead. “What are you looking at?”

Shaking your head, you looked down. Only to look up again, and take a calculated few steps in his direction. “I’ve seen you fight,” you explained. “You’re really good.”

“Appreciated,” his tone was dry. He didn’t offer any more beyond that.

You wanted to say more, but weren’t sure what else to add. You simply paused, fidgeted, looked at the bruises on his hands.

It took him a couple tries with the lighter, seemingly low on fuel, but then the thing was lit and the burn matched his eye. “…Anything else?” It was a pointed look, telling you to politely step the fuck off.

You didn’t take the hint. “Let me buy you a drink.”

The Eye huffed a sardonic laugh. “Sweetheart,” the name was obviously mocking you, “now is not the time.”

“Some other time then,” you said boldly, shrugging a shoulder. Jerking your chin to the building beyond, you added, “Find me behind the bar. A drink on the house, next time you’re in.”

Thin lips formed a grim smile. “We’ll see. Regardless; appreciate the offer.”

—

[next part]

[harringtonisms]

harringtonisms' masterlist

all my fics (published and upcoming) for your viewing pleasure!

s t e d d i e

→ WONDER “Like what you see Stevie?” He teased, head tilted playfully. Steve blushed again, and looked away, embarrassed he was caught checking Eddie out. He was Steve Harrington. Known ladies’ man. He was the one who put Skull Rock on the map and yet here he was, getting flustered over his crush like a schoolgirl. - Or, Eddie puts his hair up and Steve can't handle it.

→ PEOPLE LIKE US “You…with the tattoos, and the rings, and the chains, and the all black clothes…adopted three kittens? And you iron Mr. Harrington’s clothes every morning? And planned a picnic out on Lovers’ Lake? You taught Mr. Harrington to make little origamis? Made him a flower crown? That was you? But you look so…” Amanda paused looking for the words. Mr. Munson glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Harrington with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “You look so, not the type.”

“I told you all those years ago, Stevie. Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids. - Or, Five times Amanda Driscoll hears about Mr. Harrington's wife and the One time she realizes it's his husband. Based off of this post!

→ IT ALWAYS LEADS TO YOU It’s when they get up and move to the bathroom and run through their morning routines, integrating the other seamlessly. Passing the toothpaste and pointing to where “You missed a spot” like this was commonplace. Minty kisses against fogged mirrors and soft I love you’s whispered into his shoulder blades. It’s then that Eddie wonders why he continues to wake up alone in New York when he could have endless mornings like this in Hawkins. - Or, Eddie is a rockstar who left the town that has hated him for a music career. Steve is a teacher who couldn't bare to leave the only home he knows. Eddie's in Hawkins for a few days and he thinks about the road not taken.

→ UNNAMED Snippet Not Available Yet - Or, Eddie's bandmates are constantly hearing about his super metal, super hardcore husband. Imagine their surprise when they finally meet the guy and he's wearing a baby blue polo and slacks. (Part of the People Like Us universe.)

b u c k i n g h a m

→ YOU BELONG WITH ME [Part One] [Part Two] Chrissy blushed at the thought of directly kissing Robin. Her gaze rose to Robin’s lips for a second. They looked soft and pink, like the brunette was a fan of chapstick. She wondered which kind of chapstick Robin bought. Did she like the flavored ones? Would her kisses taste like strawberries? Cherries? Vanilla? - Or, Five times Robin found Chrissy and the One time Chrissy looked for Robin. (In other words, a timeline of their relationship! From the day they met to the day they finally got together.)

→ YOU BELONG WITH ME

Snippet Not Available Yet

-

Chrissy convinces the cheer coach to let the squad cheer during the girls soccer games for the super valid, and not at all random, reason of practice. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Robin Buckley is on the girls soccer team.

o t h e r

→ IN THE NAME OF PRACTICE “We could…kiss each other, right? In the name of practice?” Amanda swallowed and nodded hesitantly.

“Yea, in the name of practice.” She forced out. It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

— Or, Amanda and Lj decide that practicing kissing on each other is a totally normal, totally straight thing to do.

**This is a ficlet starring all original characters from the first part. This takes place in the same universe as the first fic but does not contain any characters from Stranger Things.

[finitevoid]

Having a kill-your-darlings moment. Not sure this fic I was writing is gonna see the light of day (the premise was inadvertently retconned by lore revealed in the more recent story chapters) but this specific portion of it is too good for me to let it collect dust on my hard drive. A Twst ficlet, featuring Ruggie and the older brother character I made up for him. So bon apetit, my friends.

It’d been an outreach program. A single poster stapled to a telephone post in the Graveyard District. Ruggie hadn’t even been the one to notice it; he was fifteen, and all he could think about was how and when and what his next meal was going to be. School, at the time, was cursory. At best, a free meal. At worst, he’d come home with a few new shiny bruises. Today hadn’t been a good day, and worse— when he and Ed had arrived home, Granny had greeted them with a completely empty fridge.

And while their Granny could do a lot with very little, she couldn’t feed them ketchup and expired lunch meat. That was what he and Ed had been doing out here in the first place, and why Ruggie didn’t notice the poster. He was eyeing the convenience store across the street. The kid at the register looked dead on his feet, and kept flicking his eyes to the clock. Waiting for his break.

“Hey, Ed. This guy looks like he’s about to take a smoke,” Ruggie’d said, tugging on Ed’s arm. Ed was distracted, though.

Night Raven College wasn’t exactly the usual type of school to get caught doing outreach programs, especially not in the downtown-est of downtowns in Priderock City. The thing, though, was that Night Raven College had been in the news recently. With Leona Kingscholar on his third year, Malleus Draconia entering his second year, and the recent announcement of Kalim Al-Asim’s attendance in the fall, some eyebrows were beginning to raise. Surely the most prestigious mage school in the country was not… prioritizing the rich royals of the countries it pulled its student body from? Perish the thought. The word “bias” was beginning to get thrown around, and the school was left scrambling to do something to prove its equal-handedness.

And so here it was, in the form of a dusty poster stapled to a telephone pole in the Graveyard District. But Ruggie didn’t know any of that. He was fifteen, and hungry, and Ed wasn’t reacting when he tugged on his arm, so he did what anyone would’ve done: he yanked on Ed’s arm and twisted.

Ed let out a loud, screechy yelp— aiaiaiaiai!— and wrenched his arm out of Ruggie’s grip. He glared at Ruggie and cried, “Little fucker! I was reading this poster.”

“Why?” Ruggie cocked his head, flicking his eyes toward the store clerk nervously. Ed pulled the poster from the staple and shoved the paper under Ruggie’s nose. Ruggie yanked it into his own hands, smacking Ed’s arm away.

It was unlike anything Ruggie had ever seen before. Thick, cardstock paper and embossed lettering on the front, shiny and regal looking. The font was fancy, the logo of the school even fancier, and it had an air of pompous superiority dripping off every word. Night Raven College. It wasn’t anything like pamphlets for the highschools that’d been set in front of Ruggie like an inevitability. Those ones used all soft words, pretty nothingness in a bog-standard attempt to convince him to go to highschool at all.

Ruggie had been all but resigned to ditching it, and getting a job instead. He’d turn sixteen in the spring, and then he’d be old enough to work. It just seemed smarter— they needed the money, and it wasn’t like he got much out of school. It’s what Ed had done, when Granny got too old to work. But, this. It was something else. It was shameless. Completely and utterly drenched in pride and sleek academia. It wasn’t pretending to be anything it wasn’t, and, well— Ruggie could get behind that.

“What’sit?” Ruggie had asked.

“It’s a school for mages. Real big and famous. All the rich folks go there.” Ed explained. At Ruggie’s scowl, Ed pressed further. “You’re good at magic, Rug. You should go for it.”

Ruggie scoffed, flicking it back at Ed’s face. “Probably costs more’n God.”

“No, look,” Ed hounded, pointing at some of the small cursive lettering. Offering full scholarships to students of proficient academic and magical standing from low-income families. “That’s you, dude.”

It was then that Ruggie bothered to wonder why Ed was pushing this with so much intensity, and that’s when Ruggie took in the scene. For the first time in his life, it was like he was outside of himself, observing from afar. Two kids, on the dusty backstreets of their capital city, getting ready to steal their dinner. It smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke, and the breeze brought sand with it.

Ruggie was fifteen; Ed had turned eighteen that winter. Ruggie was getting ready to finish middle school. The last time Ed had stepped foot in a school had been the very same school Ruggie was finishing.

There was a heaviness about Ed’s shoulders. It made Ruggie think about when they were young, playing Magishift on old branches in the quarry on the edge of town. Ed used to smile so wide then. Now he was looking at him with bags underneath the bags under his eyes, bruises peeking up around his shirt collar.

“You should at least try, dude.” Ed repeated, gently setting the paper back into Ruggie’s hands. “What’s the harm? It doesn’t cost anything to apply.”

Broken promises of youth tasted bitter. Sharp and crunchy underneath his fangs, they poked at their tongues and their throats. It felt like Ed was giving him a gift; one covered in his blood and tears and hard work. So intense was the feeling that Ruggie held the poster with the utmost care, as if to rip it were to ruin all his chances at attending the school. Reverence bloomed in Ruggie’s heart as he, for maybe the first time, understood what it meant to be young.

“You’re right.” He said.

Ruggie had always been good at magic. At least, he was compared to the guys he’d grown up around. They’d never cared about magic; for them, the risks were too steep and the rewards too hard to acquire. Magic was for old ladies cooking food and cleaning house, they’d say.

Not wrong. That was where he’d first learned it, seeing his Granny levitating spoons and plates around her head as she cooked. Ruggie’d been entranced by what he saw, and begged his Granny to teach him. She’d relented, handing him a wooden cooking spoon and teaching him how to make sparks run along its surface.

The other boys much preferred to wrestle, and later, to fight. But Ruggie’d been sidelined in wrestling games and was always the one on the ground in a fight, so it became clear he needed something all his own. Knives clutched in tiny, shaking fists were enough of a threat to get himself nearly killed. But magic— a silent weapon, unnoticeable until it was too late.

Ruggie had been raised on cooking food and cleaning house magic. Gentle wind spells for dusting, small balls of flame to warm food. His childhood evenings were spent by his Granny’s side, learning how much cumin made things spicy and how much ginger made them sweet. She’d let him hold the fire as she boiled water, quietly explaining to him what blot was and how to avoid it. “Those big, flashy spells the wizards do on the TV aren’t for us, Ruggie.” She told him. “They have wands to catch the blot. But us? Too much stress and magic, and we could explode.”

That’s what she always called it. Exploding. Never Overblot. When he’d first heard the word Overblot, he’d balked. Even when he’d watched Leona overblot, feeling his body slowly turning to dust, he’d heard her voice bouncing around in his mind. He’s ‘sploding.

[carewyncromwell]

“Who will wake them? No one ever will... No one ever told them that a summer day can kill... They were schoolboys -- never held a gun -- Fighting for a new world that would rise up like the sun! Where's that new world now the fighting's done?”

~“Turning” from Les Miserables

x~x~x~x

A/N: Hi guys! Before we get started, let me explain some things! 

Firstly, yes, that guy on the left? That is my personal version of Remus Lupin, based on how I imagined him, while reading the books -- young, but still oddly worn-out and graying; slender, pale, and not traditionally handsome with a tired, almost melancholy face that could nonetheless communicate both sincerity and boyish mischief whenever he smiles. (To give you an idea, my personal fancast for Remus as an adult these days is Tom Hiddleston, who captures that aspect to me.) But yeah, David Thewlis never really captured how I visualized Remus, not just because he (like the rest of the actors playing the Marauders and Snape) was way too old and I thought the scratches the make-up department gave him made it WAY too visually obvious he was a werewolf when Remus hated his condition so much that I can’t imagine him not trying to magically hide them...but in my own headcanon, I personally always saw Remus never liking facial hair, at least on himself. I thought that a person who grows hair all over his body when he turns into a monster wolf once a month would be really uncomfortable looking the least bit scruffy, and so even if when he was homeless, he might gain some stubble, he’d try really, really hard to stay neatly groomed. (Contrast this to someone like Sirius, who I totally see being the type to grow his hair out and embrace the scruff.) 

Secondly, this ficlet is set in 1995, circa the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and will feature not just Remus and Sirius, but also Chiara Lobosca from the game Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (pictured in the center!). There will also be some references to my MC Carewyn Cromwell, just because she’s close friends with Chiara, but I tried to keep this focused more on the dynamic between Remus and Chiara, the first of whom is my favorite character in the original books and the second of whom is one of my favorite characters in the HPHM game.

Finally, here are some of the other songs I listened to, while working on the art for this project: “In My Life” also from Les Miserables, this cover of “Days in the Sun” from Beauty and the Beast (2019) by Georgia Merry Jones, “Children Will Listen” covered by Barbra Streisand, “Shadowland” from The Lion King (musical), and “Flagmaker 1775″ from Songs for a New World. 

So there you go! Hope you all enjoy...and if you do, please consider liking/reblogging/commenting! 🐺

x~x~x~x

In mid-1995, the Triwizard Tournament ended with the sudden, tragic death of Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory. Although the vast majority of the Wizarding World wasn’t told the reason for it, there were those who believed Harry Potter’s account from the offset. One of those people, understandably, was Sirius Black, who was instructed by Albus Dumbledore to lay low at his old friend Remus Lupin’s place for a short while and await further instructions. Once he had made proper arrangements, the Hogwarts Headmaster contacted Remus and Sirius, and the two went about recruiting the “old guard” that had made up the Order of the Phoenix, as well as some possible new recruits Dumbledore thought might be useful. One of those such recruits was a young witch doing freelance Potion and Healing work for St. Mungo’s Hospital for Maladies and Injuries named Chiara Lobosca.

The name wasn’t unfamiliar at all to Lupin. He’d met Chiara while she was still a student at Hogwarts, and they’d remained very close throughout the years, exchanging letters and even occasionally meeting over drinks at the Three Broomsticks, when Lupin could afford it. Chiara was also a werewolf, and upon learning that Lupin shared her condition, but couldn’t get access to Wolfsbane Potion himself, she selflessly gave him some of her own doses, over the span of a few months. Of course when Lupin learned she didn’t have any spares, he refused to take any more of them, but Chiara stubbornly persisted in keeping contact, even when Lupin tried to distance himself, and before long, Lupin had to admit that he had come to see her as something between daughter and younger sister. Once Chiara graduated Hogwarts, she had likewise struggled to find work thanks to the stigma against outed werewolves. Fortunately Chiara had some very loyal friends, and the ones who worked at St. Mungo’s ensured that she had low-paying, but stable enough employment for the magical ward, mixing complex potions from home. This also gave her access to the ingredients needed to brew Wolfsbane Potion herself from time to time, not just for herself, but sometimes even for others, when she had enough in stock. At just 22 years old, she’d managed a level of work stability Lupin could only dream of, even while thirteen years her senior, thanks to her talent as a Healer. It was frankly little wonder that Dumbledore was so interested in having her as part of the Order of the Phoenix now.

And yet, despite himself, Lupin dreaded the meeting. As much as he would’ve normally loved to see Chiara, asking her to put her life on the line -- to fight Voldemort -- however important the cause was, Lupin knew it was a conversation he was ill-equipped to have. 

Sensing Lupin’s uncertainty, Sirius coaxed his friend into letting him be there at their meeting in dog form, to show moral support.

“Hey, Dumbledore told me to stay low with you, didn’t he? Or would you and he rather I find some trouble elsewhere?” Sirius had said with a grin. 

He then gave Lupin a light, amiable punch to the shoulder. 

“Come on...cute animals always help break the ice. And I know for a fact that I can be pretty damn cute. I’m sure she’ll love me.”

Lupin kind of wanted Sirius to be hysterically wrong, just to stick it to him and his ridiculous levels of arrogance...but sure enough, as soon as Chiara arrived at Lupin’s flat and Sirius bounded up to her with a wagging tail and an excited bark, Chiara pretty instantly melted.

“Aww...hello there,” she fawned over the big, shaggy dog softly. 

She brought a hand up for him to sniff it. Sirius immediately moved right past it and leapt up onto his back legs so he could rest his front paws on her shoulders and lick her face.

“Hahaha -- hey, stop! Hee hee -- that tickles!”

Chiara was soon left choking back giggles. Sirius jumped down and shot a rather triumphant “See? Told ya she’d love me!” look over his shoulder at Lupin, who shot him a rather dry look in return as he crossed his arms.

“When did you get a dog, Lupin?” Chiara asked him, wiping the slobber off her cheek with a bright white smile.

“A few days ago -- though I think it’ll just be temporary, until I can find him a more stable home,” said Lupin. 

Chiara looked a bit disappointed as she scratched under Sirius’s ears. “Oh, how I wish I could take him...but Johnny Rotten’s never much liked dogs. And my apartment only accepts small pets...”

Sirius despite himself was very happy by the scratches -- his dog form did tend to get itchy, likely because of all the shaggy fur. 

“It’s all right,” said Lupin. “I’m sure with how friendly he is, old Snuffles will find a nice enough home.”

His lips curled up in a wry smile, and he could see Sirius trying hard to bite one back of his own too. Calling Sirius “Snuffles” was a joke James had been fond of, when he was alive -- James had always had a bad track record of naming his pets ridiculous things, so Sirius hadn’t trusted him with coming up with something cool, for their Marauder nicknames. “Moony” hadn’t been too bad, but “Snuffles” had left Lupin and Wormtail in hysterics, at the time. It was frankly a relief that Lily had been the one to come up with their son’s name -- Harry could’ve very well been named something like “Fleamont” or “Dillard,” if James had been allowed to run wild. 

“Can I get you some coffee?” Lupin asked Chiara. “I’d offer tea, but I’m afraid all I’ve been able to afford lately is Lipton, and I wouldn’t subject a guest to that...”

“Coffee would be lovely,” said Chiara. 

And so Lupin brewed up a pot of Maxwell for Chiara and himself to share. The mugs he used were second-hand and chipped, and Lupin apologized for that, but Chiara shrugged it off.

“The coffee will taste just the same, regardless,” she’d said reassuringly.

Sirius gave a loud sneeze. Lupin could practically hear him saying something snarky like, “Cheap but serviceable, then?” and he bit back a smile. 

Once the coffee was done, the two sat down in the living area of Lupin’s dinky little apartment. Sirius pretty promptly jumped up onto the couch next to Chiara, even as Lupin scowled at him.

“Well, there goes the idea of keeping one piece of furniture from getting covered in dog fur,” he sighed.

Sirius looked rather smug as he plopped himself down beside Chiara, his large back paw dangling off the edge of the couch. Chiara brought a hand along the dog’s back, ruffling up the fur beside his neck. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve invited me over to your place, Lupin,” Chiara commented. She eyed Lupin curiously. 

Lupin found his eyes drifting up toward the paint peeling from the wall rather than at her. 

“Hmm, yes, well...I was hoping we could speak privately.”

“That’s what you said in your letter,” said Chiara, as her fingers brushed against the rim of her cup idly. “Since you wouldn’t go into any more details, I can only guess it’s about something important.”

Lupin looked at Chiara, his expression becoming more somber. He took a sip of coffee, considering his next words very carefully.

“...I...suppose you heard about what happened during the Triwizard Tournament,” he said bracingly.

Chiara’s face grew very sad. She bowed her head, her short white hair falling into her eyes.

“What...happened to Cedric, you mean,” she said very lowly. 

Lupin was faintly startled. The tone of her voice...it sounded like someone...grieving. 

“...You knew Cedric,” he realized in dismay. 

Chiara nodded without raising her head. 

“He...was part of the Circle of Khanna,” she murmured. “Back in the old days.”

Sirius didn’t know what Chiara was talking about, but Lupin did.

“The group Carewyn formed to deal with the Cursed Vaults?”

Chiara nodded again. “Carewyn, Bill, Charlie, Ben, and Merula -- they founded it. Though Carewyn was de facto leader -- she was the one we all rallied behind...”

Her blue eyes were misty with memories.

“Cedric and the Weasley twins were our youngest members. Carewyn didn’t want them involved, at the start -- she thought they were way too young to make themselves enemies of a magical criminal organization like R. But really, Carewyn had been targeted by them herself, when she was even younger. And Fred and George were Bill and Charlie’s brothers, so they flat-out refused not to help...and they and Cedric looked up to Carewyn so much. When Rowan died...well, they wanted to support her, however they could.”

She smiled sadly.

“Cedric, in particular. He was only a first year at the time, but he was always brilliant. He was a great flier and a good enough duelist to stand toe-to-toe with students three years ahead of him. And more than anything...he just hated the idea of Rowan not getting justice, after what Rakepick did...hated the thought that Carewyn would have to live knowing her best friend’s killer walked free. So he asked Ben to help him practice his dueling skills, so that if he ended up colliding with Rakepick, he could stop her from hurting anyone else. After that, Ben convinced Carewyn to tell Cedric about the Circle of Khanna, and Cedric immediately asked to join. ‘You’ve always protected everyone else,’ I remember he’d said. ‘Now you won’t have to do it alone...anymore...’”

Chiara’s voice trailed off into nothingness as she closed her eyes. Lupin reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t know you and he had that history.”

If he had, he probably would’ve come at this whole thing far more gently.

Chiara shut her eyes tighter to try to hold in the tears that had started to form. 

“It’s okay. It’s just...he was only twelve, when he joined the Circle of Khanna. Twelve. At the time, he’d felt so young, and we hated getting him involved in everything, but...but we were only sixteen and seventeen ourselves. The same age Cedric is. Was.” 

She swallowed. It seemed hard to do. 

“...That’s too young,” she said, her voice so soft it was like a shadow of her normal voice. “He was too young. We were too young, to be in that kind of danger -- to be afraid of dying, of never seeing your friends and family again. No one should have to be afraid of that, at seventeen.”

Lupin regarded Chiara sadly as he gave her shoulder a light squeeze. 

“You’re right,” he agreed quietly. “But sometimes...even despite all our best efforts...people have to face these sorts of battles at way too young an age.”

Harry’s face swam over his mind, as did the memory of helping him with his dementor boggart two years ago.

“I heard my dad. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him. He tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it...”

Lupin felt his heart clenching at the memory of Harry’s pale, tear-stained face -- the thought of his best friend, throwing himself between Voldemort and his family...

James was only twenty-one, at that time. All of them had been -- Lily, Wormtail, Sirius...Lupin himself. They all had only been twenty-one, when their lives were destroyed forever.

Lupin caught Sirius’s eye -- the dog was surveying him carefully, clearly sensing his disquieted mood. Sirius then glanced from Lupin to Chiara and back significantly.

“Don’t forget what we’re here for,” Lupin could sense him saying. 

The ex-professor paused, his tawny-brown eyes absently resting on his hand on Chiara’s shoulder, before speaking again. 

“...What...did you learn, about what happened to Cedric?”

Chiara looked up at Lupin in surprise. Then her big blue eyes seemed to become a little smaller, becoming almost guarded. 

“...Well, the Ministry says it was an accident,” she said slowly. 

“But you don’t believe that,” surmised Lupin.

Chiara’s eyes hardened a bit. “...No. I don’t.”

She drank from her mug, before putting it down on the side table between the couch and the armchair. 

“Beatrice Haywood was in the stands, during the Third Task,” she admitted. “She wrote to Carewyn about it afterwards...”

“You’ve spoken to Carewyn?” asked Lupin. 

He knew Carewyn Cromwell was someone else Dumbledore had wanted to recruit to the Order, though he wasn’t sure how well such an endeavor would go. Carewyn was a Slytherin alumnus, and although she reminded Lupin a bit of James when it came to her honor, talent, intelligence, and loyalty to her friends, she was still like Snape in the sense that she didn’t trust easily. Lupin had heard in passing from both Chiara and the Hogwarts staff how little Carewyn trusted or liked the Headmaster, however fondly Dumbledore looked upon Carewyn himself. 

“I do not think Carewyn has ever quite forgiven me for expelling her brother, even after everything,” Dumbledore had told Lupin once. “And truthfully, I cannot blame her for that. It’s a choice I myself hated making at the time and have hated myself for making every day since.”

“Yes,” said Chiara. She paused before saying solemnly, “What happened to Cedric...you know it wasn’t an accident...don’t you?”

It was clear to Lupin that Chiara was trying to gage how much he knew, before she said anything else -- so he addressed the matter honestly.

“You’re right,” Lupin said solemnly. 

He drank some more from his mug and then took a deep breath. 

“Cedric didn’t die by accident. ...He was murdered. By Lord Voldemort.”

Chiara flinched at the name, her eyes closing again -- and yet her pale face seemed oddly devoid of surprise.

“I knew it,” she said very quietly. 

Lupin tilted his head slightly to look at her better.

“Even before Carewyn told me about Beatrice’s letter,” Chiara clarified. “As soon as I learned Cedric had died, I just knew. I knew it couldn’t have been just an accident. Cedric was always too capable for that...”

Her voice was faintly strained -- clearly knowing the reason for her old friend’s death was vindicating, but still incredibly painful. 

Sirius, in a display of sympathy, actually rested his furry head in Chiara’s lap, his gray eyes watching her face sadly. 

“I am truly sorry, Chiara,” Lupin said softly. 

Chiara slowly opened her eyes. She brought a hand up to ruffle the fur beside Sirius’s ears.

“Carewyn said that Professor McGonagall visited her flat that same day and confirmed it,” she said, her voice sounding a bit stronger again. “She wouldn’t go into much detail about the meeting, but even if she put on a brave face like she always does, I know she’s worried. She even said her brother was coming back to London...Jacob never stays in one place, so for him to come home...”

“...It has to mean he’s concerned too,” Lupin finished.

Chiara looked up at Lupin with something a bit grimmer in her eyes. 

“Like you are?” she asked. 

Lupin blinked. 

“You wouldn’t have brought any of this up if you weren’t,” Chiara pointed out. “And well, as much as you don’t talk about your past...I know you really respect Professor Dumbledore, the way I do. Probably because I’m sure he helped you go to school, like he did me.”

Lupin’s lips curled up in a slightly sad smile. “...He did.”

Chiara was always very perceptive, even when she was young. It was something Lupin had always admired about her. 

Chiara smiled too, but it vanished quickly. “So I reckon...if Professor Dumbledore thinks You-Know-Who is back, he probably wants to do something about it. Especially since the Ministry isn’t doing anything.”

“Yes,” said Lupin. Not having to explain this made him feel a bit more secure in saying, “He’s hoping to assemble an army, to help in the fight against him...”

“And he wants you to join him?” Chiara asked. The question cut him off slightly -- it was clear she wasn’t surprised by the news, but there was also noted concern in her tone. 

Lupin hesitated. He glanced down at Sirius, who gave him an encouraging look. 

“...Me...as well as you,” he admitted at last. 

Chiara blinked.

“You’ve always been a talented Healer, Chiara -- the most talented in your field, at least among your peers. Professor Dumbledore knows your skills would be invaluable, in the fight to come. And...well, with your connections among our kind, through your activism...it was thought that you might be able to reach out to others who might sympathize with our position...”

“Recruit other werewolves, you mean?” Chiara asked, her eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. 

Lupin suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He held his coffee mug in both hands, just over his lap. 

“...Yes.”

Chiara frowned deeply. 

“Lupin...you know most werewolves have to hide their condition, just to try to get a job and support themselves. You know how dangerous that is -- joining a secret army that opposes the Ministry on top of that, that’d be far too risky...”

“Perhaps, but it’s far more of a risk, to do nothing in the face of Voldemort’s return,” Lupin said gravely.

“Something must be done, you’re right,” said Chiara, trying to bite back another flinch. “But it’s not that simple, Lupin. A lot of werewolves have a lot more to lose than we do.”

“That’s all the more reason to fight to protect those things,” Lupin said, a very slight edge coming to his voice despite himself. “Voldemort threatens everything we’ve built and everything we hold dear -- our lives and our livelihood. We know Voldemort will undoubtedly try to recruit werewolves like Fenrir Greyback in his fight, so any envoy we can make toward werewolves on behalf of our side can deter one less ally he could tempt to serve him. We must convince our kind that there is still hope for a better future in the World they live in, or they will turn to someone who promises one to them -- even someone like Voldemort.”

“I know that -- and you are right, Lupin, you are,” said Chiara, her face hardening. “But don’t you see? You’re looking at things just on the large scale, right now. You’re looking at how we’re going to stop You-Know-Who, but you’re not thinking about how individual people are going to make it to the other side of that fight, in the first place. A lot of werewolves are unemployed like you, yes, but others...they’re working for the Ministry, right now. Them working against the Ministry would constitute treason. They could be subjected to time in Azkaban, if they joined a group like this and got caught. Not to mention many of them are parents, with families who rely on them and their salaries. If they lose their jobs, how will they earn enough to take care of them? Protecting the ones we love from You-Know-Who is important...but what would any of them be protecting, if they lose their homes and go hungry?”

Lupin’s lips came together solemnly. 

“...We’ll all have to come together, to face what lies ahead,” he said softly. “If we don’t fight together, we’re certain to fall separately.”

“And that’s all the more reason why it’s good that you’re fighting, Lupin,” Chiara said earnestly. “We need people like you who are brave enough, to risk yourself and your future to do what’s right. But in the end...that’s still your choice, Lupin. That’s what makes it noble. If you put yourself on the line simply because you felt compelled to do it...well, then it wouldn’t be half as noble. It would be done out of duress -- obligation. And frankly...given that the Ministry in this very moment has people like Dolores Umbridge in their ranks...I don’t know if I could fault anyone who’d have trouble putting themselves on the line, to protect a Ministry who won’t even protect them.”

“Yet they’ll work for that Ministry and stay silent to keep that position with them,” Lupin said grimly. 

Chiara fixed Lupin with a very reproachful look. “Doing a desk job and being a soldier are two very different things, Lupin, and you know it.”

Lupin looked down into the coffee mug in his hands. After a moment, he felt Chiara bring a hand down on his forearm.

“Lupin,” she said gently, “I want to help you, and you know I will. You know I’d always Heal you or anyone else who needed my help. Especially if they were your friends. But...”

She sighed. 

“...It bothers me...that you’re so quick to judge those who won’t fight with Professor Dumbledore against Fudge. They’re not cruel or selfish people, a lot of them. They have people they love, just as you do, and they want to protect them however they think they can. And with the Ministry assuring them nothing’s wrong, it’s not hard to understand why. We’re supposed to trust the Ministry. We’re supposed to have faith in the people we’ve trusted to lead us. You trust Professor Dumbledore to tell you the truth, don’t you?”

Lupin’s tawny-brown eyes grew a little smaller. “Of course I do.”

“Well, others trust Fudge,” Chiara said firmly. “Maybe that’s wrong of them, and maybe some of them might be in denial about how bad things are...but they still trust him. Even though both he and Professor Dumbledore have made plenty of mistakes, and undoubtedly will make plenty more. And well...you said it yourself. Professor Dumbledore is forming an army, to face You-Know-Who. Not everyone is meant to be a soldier. That doesn’t make them any less of a person.”

“I know that,” said Lupin. “And Professor Dumbledore doesn’t want you as a soldier, Chiara -- there are plenty of other ways you can help our cause...”

“So both you and Dumbledore would agree that I wouldn’t be able to fight the Death Eaters?” Chiara cut him off.

The question was pointed. It made Lupin hesitate.

“That’s...not exactly what I meant,” he said awkwardly. 

“But do you think I could?” Chiara challenged him. “Do you think, if I fought You-Know-Who or one of his supporters, that I could beat them? Do you think I’d survive in a fight against them?”

Lupin swallowed. 

Truthfully, the answer was no. He knew Chiara had never been inclined to fight. She wasn’t particularly talented at Wizard Dueling, nor was she particularly aggressive. She hated causing other people pain. And Voldemort was not just some random Dark wizard -- he was the strongest Dark wizard in the world. No one but Dumbledore even came close to him, magically speaking. But at the same time, Lupin didn’t like this line of questioning and he didn’t know why Chiara was asking him this in the first place, so it made him hesitate, in answering. 

“I think you could do anything you set your mind to,” he said at last, very lowly. 

Chiara offered Lupin a gentle smile. 

“Thank you,” she said kindly. “But that’s just the problem. I wouldn’t be able to hurt anybody. I wouldn’t be able to kill anybody else -- not even to protect the people I love. I know you could. I know Bill could. I know Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape could. But not me.”

Her expression softened as her gaze fell down to Sirius still resting his head in her lap. 

“I think I surprised a lot of people when I joined the Circle of Khanna, back in the old days,” she confessed. “I’ve never been like Ben or Merula, or even Cedric or Beatrice. I’m afraid of hurting people. I couldn’t imagine hurting anybody else, even if I was in danger -- even if someone I loved was in danger. I don’t know what I’d do, aside from casting Shield Charms...but actually attacking somebody, to hurt them...that’s something I would never want to do.”

She smiled.

“...But I trusted Carewyn. I still trust Carewyn, with everything in me. I believe in her, even though she’s never truly believed in herself the same way...even though she never asked me to put myself on the line, for her or otherwise...even though she never asked me to have that much faith in her in the first place. Maybe even because she never asked me to.”

Her eyes sparkled fondly. Her expression then turned much more solemn as she looked up at Lupin again. 

“I respect Professor Dumbledore a lot,” she said seriously, “but I know I’m not like him. I’m not nearly so wise nor so talented, nor am I likely half as brave...and I don’t see the world quite so much like a chess game, focusing on large-scale moves without thinking about the pieces being shattered on the board. I’m much more like Carewyn -- someone who’ll sacrifice for others, but never ask for anyone else to do the same. And...”

She adjusted her hand on Lupin’s forearm again.

“...I’m like you -- someone who will fight for what’s right, no matter what the risk might be for yourself.”

Lupin looked up from his coffee at last. Chiara was smiling gently again. After a moment, he smiled in return.

“...So you’ll help us?” he asked her.

“Mm,” Chiara said with a nod. “I won’t recruit anyone, and I have no intention of fighting or hurting anybody...but if you or Professor Dumbledore ever need a Healer, then I’m here.” 

“I must wonder if Carewyn responded the same way,” Lupin said airily. 

He was smiling more fully, though, as he finished off his coffee and put his cup down on the side table. Sirius had relaxed noticeably -- his tail was wagging again. Chiara took her wand out of her dark purple coat.

“Would you like me to send that to the sink?” she asked politely.

“Thank you.”

She waved her wand, levitating both her mug and Lupin’s over to the sink a yard or so away.

“Lupin,” said Chiara slowly, “may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you upset? That I wasn’t more excited to join.”

Lupin’s expression softened.

“No,” he said. “Truthfully...I felt a bit like you did about Cedric.”

Chiara blinked.

“‘He was too young,’ you said. ‘We were too young.’ Well, really, you still are. And so were we, when we faced Voldemort, during the First Wizarding War.”

Lupin’s eyes darkened. 

“...I was only a year younger than you are now...when I lost one of the closest friends I’d ever known.”

“Prongs,” Chiara recalled. Lupin nodded.

“He and his wife had just had a baby,” said Lupin. “Their deaths left that boy an orphan...sent him to live with his Muggle relatives, away from any hint of who he was or how amazing his parents were, as people.”

He sighed.

“It’s...one of the greatest regrets I have,” he said softly, “that I wasn’t able to watch him grow up, even just from afar. It would’ve been one thing to be around him as a child with his parents around...but Prongs would’ve fought to make sure I was in his life, regardless of what anyone else said. Even me,” he added, as his lips curled up in a sad smile. 

Sirius reached across Chiara’s lap to place a paw on Lupin’s knee. Lupin looked up, to see Sirius fixing him with a rather sharp look.

“It’s not your fault, Remus,” he seemed to say.

Chiara seemed to think so too. 

“I’m sure your son’s friend would’ve loved having you in his life too,” she said gently. “I’m glad I have. Had you in my life, I mean.”

Lupin smiled, clearly touched.

“...As have I.”

Chiara slid herself out from under Sirius so she could get up and give Lupin a hug. The affectionate gesture faintly startled Lupin, but he brought a hand up to pat Chiara lightly on the back. The way James used to do, whenever he met his friends...

“We’ve gone through more than most families do, I reckon. S’pose that makes us like brothers now, doesn’t it?”

"Lupin?”

“Yes?”

“I have a friend you should talk to, in the Auror Department. I think she might be what you and Professor Dumbledore are really looking for.” 

[rosiehunterwolf]

Hey Rosie, congrats on 100 followers! 🎉🎉 You deserve it girl, your stuff is amazing!

I’d like to request a ficlet with some sibling bonding for whichever ninjas you like if that’s okay!

ljfdslkdsj fjl; d PEGGY THANK YOU, you are an amazing writer too, so i'm so flattered you love my stuff <3

I flipped between a few different options for this one, but I'm very happy with what I went with :)

broken pieces

Summary: When Kai’s sister, his whole world, is kidnapped, suddenly nothing else matters but getting her back. He’s prepared to sacrifice anything, but the path to reuniting with Nya isn’t a simple one.

For as long as Kai’s known, it’s been him and her, against the world. But the world has a way of changing. Sometimes, old relationships die.

And new ones begin.

The light of the campfire cast a flickering glow on Kai’s face as he stared into it. The night was peaceful, but Kai couldn’t relax, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

Only one more Golden Weapon to find. Then we can stop Garmadon.

And save Nya.

He was desperate to have his sister at his side again. They had never been apart for this long before. Occasionally, Kai would have to take the couple day’s trip into the city if they needed supplies, or he had taken a particularly late shift at one of his jobs, but those had never lasted longer than a few days.

This though- he hadn’t seen Nya in weeks, and part of him was beginning to wonder if he ever would again.

I will. I just need to work harder, to train more- then, I can get this Fire Sword and use it to teach Garmadon a lesson for messing with my sister.

Then we can go home.

If the rest of these guys wanted to stay and be ninja, fine. What did Kai care? But what use did Kai have for the ninja life? He was only there to get back the one person he cared about.

She… she was all he had left.

A sharp burst of laughter interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced over to see Jay, Cole, and Zane huddled together on the ground, closer to the fire. Sensei Wu was already asleep, but apparently, the ninja were more concerned about whatever was so funny than actually getting a good night’s rest.

Jay glanced up, catching him looking, and Kai quickly rearranged his expression into a glare, glancing away and huffing with embarrassment.

“Hey, Kai?” Jay’s voice was tentative. Wary. “You wanna come over here? It’s warmer by the fire.”

“No thanks,” he huffed. “I’m the master of fire. I don’t get cold.”

He exhaled, the cold turning his breath to vapor, thinking that would be the end of that. Then, suddenly, the others were coming over to him, sitting down next to him. He noted the way that Jay, the closest one, still made sure to keep about a foot of distance, but it was still much closer than Kai was used to.

“What are you doing?”

“If you do not want to come closer to the fire, we can come closer to you,” Zane said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s cold over here, and you guys don’t have super cool fire powers to keep you warm.”

Cole frowned. “No offense, dude, but those powers don’t seem to be doing you much good now. You’re shivering.”

“Am not!” Kai pulled his gi tighter around himself, glaring at them.

Cole sighed. “Dude, what’s really going on? You can talk to us.”

Kai stared intensely at the ground, glowering.

“Kai, we’re a team, now. We have to talk to each other.”

“We’re not a team!” he snapped, before he could stop himself. “You guys are the ninja! I’m just some tagalong blacksmith guy who just gets in your way! So you can stop trying to include me and just leave me alone already!” The guys stared at him with wide eyes. Jay opened and closed his mouth without any sound coming out, looking a lot like a shell-shocked fish.

“Kai, you don’t… you don’t seriously believe that, do you?”

“That is not true, Kai!” Zane insisted.

“This is our fault,” Cole sighed. “We weren’t very nice to you at first and didn’t try to include you in our group. It wasn’t fair.” Cole looked down at his feet. “I should’ve been better.”

Kai looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “I don’t care. I’m only here to get back my best friend. Once my sister and I are together again, you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

It surprised him how much the words stung as they left his mouth. The guys seemed nice enough, but they meant nothing to him. Nya was the only one who mattered.

“Kai… don’t be like that. We want you around.”

“Well, I just want to go home.” Kai was horrified to hear his voice break. “I want my sister and I want things to go back to the way they used to be.”

“I wanted that too, at first,” Jay admitted. “I thought our team was perfect the way it was, and I didn’t want a fourth member. But now that you’re here… I’m struggling to even remember what it was like before you came. I don’t want to go back to three again. I want you to be here.”

“Change is difficult, Kai,” Zane agreed. “But necessary. Without it, we would never grow. Never learn. Sometimes, it has undesirable consequences. But sometimes, it brings about things that, in time, we could never imagine our life without.”

“The three of us weren’t perfect friends when we met,” Cole said. “We’re still not. Not everything will work out right away. But we’d like you to let us try.”

Kai’s vision blurred, and he hurriedly tried to wipe at his eyes, but he felt a hand on his back- Jay’s. An unspoken invitation that it was okay to cry.

Kai didn’t cry in front of people. But that night, he did.

“I just… I miss Nya. She’s the only family I’ve ever had, and it’s not like I don’t want to let other people into my life, but I don’t know how, and- and-”

“Kai.” Cole’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay. We’re going to get her back, and we’re going to help you. You’re only a kid, like the rest of us. It’s not fair to put all that pressure on yourself. Let other people help you. We want you here.”

“Th-thanks,” he sniffed. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to-” he cut off as three pairs of arms wrapped around him. For a moment, he stiffened. The only person who had ever hugged him was Nya, and even she hadn’t done that since she was little- Nya loved him, but she wasn’t really the touchy-feely type- but, almost without his consent, Kai felt himself melting into their embrace, feeling like he was going to cry.

He hadn’t felt this kind of thing before. He needed to feel it. Now that he was experiencing what he had missed out on, Kai never wanted to let it go, and he hugged them back as tightly as he could, whimpering softly. At this point, he felt like he could hug anyone, but the ninja certainly weren’t a terrible choice in the matter. One thing was for sure, they gave the best hugs Kai had ever felt.

“Thank you,” he whispered. The words felt pathetic, not even beginning to cover what he was feeling, but he didn’t know what else to say. Nothing could tell them what they had done for him tonight.

“Hey,” Cole murmured. “What is family for?”

[gignikinszz]

anakin is on the train and this dipshit infront of him has been humming christmas songs everyday on his morning work commute for the past week and it’s the middle of fucking august so he’s ready to confront this motherfucker for his crimes against humanity and his eardrums then boom obi wan meet cute

anon. im obsessed 💍💍💍💍 ficlet under the cut xx

i took a few liberties with this, but i hope u still like it :)) modern au, annoyances to lovers but only from anakin's pov, 1.3k. mentions of christmas music and horrible hours of the morning beware

It was 5:15. Five-fifteen in the goddamn morning. It was six in the goddamn morning, and it was the middle of August. The seventeenth of August, to be exact.

The third week, to the day, of Anakin’s personal hell.

Some context: Anakin was on the train, just trying to get to his job at a local bakery, still trying to wake up. He’d been late that morning and hadn’t had time for coffee, and was therefore grumpy. Grumpier than usual. So fucking grumpy.

And that same motherfucker from the past three weeks was singing. Again.

Now, Anakin wasn’t a cold-hearted monster, okay? He wasn’t against singing, not at all. Not even at 5:15 in the goddamn morning on a Thursday. Not even on the train. No, what he was against, morally and spiritually and on all levels (including physical), was the fact that the stranger was singing Christmas music. In August.

Today, it was Jingle Bells, though really, the song should’ve been named Jingle Hell. Overly jaunty, reminiscent of fifth-grade showcases, jarring and horrid, even when sung with a voice as nice as Christmas Music Man’s. A disgusting display of Christmas cheer, absolutely murdering Anakin’s poor eardrums, making him wish for the fiftieth time in the past twenty-one days that his stupid dog and stupider cat hadn’t totally destroyed his earbuds fighting over them, and that he wasn’t too busy (lazy) to go get new ones.

God, he was going to lose it. If he heard one more annoying-ass sing, he was going to—

… you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special…

Last Christmas. The stranger, who always, for some sick and twisted reason, sat directly behind Anakin, was singing Last Christmas.

“Yo, dipshit, can you, like shut the fu—ck.” Anakin choked as he finally got a glimpse of the stranger. “Not up. Um. You can keep singing. Bye.”

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit. He was hot. Oh, fuck. Oh, god. He was so fucking hot and Anakin had just called him a dipshit. And spazzed out. And, worse, told him he could keep singing his awful Christmas music. He’d told the most attractive asshole motherfucker he’d ever seen that he could keep singing Last Christmas. At 5:15 in the goddamn morning. In the middle of August.

Oh, fucking shit.

Anakin spent the rest of that (thankfully not-very-long, after his outburst) train ride in silence, rethinking his life, wondering how someone so hot could be committing such heinous crimes against humanity. It didn’t make sense, at first. The man had looked nice. Or just hot. Anakin didn’t know. He’d been wearing a sweater vest with nothing underneath, showing off his very muscular arms, and he’d had very soft-looking hair. How could someone who dressed like a slutty 80-year-old have such poor taste in music? Have such little respect for Anakin, and Anakin’s eardrums, and the world at large?

It didn’t make sense, but when Anakin talked to Ahsoka, who was opening with him that day, she told him it did.

“You know,” she said, “if he’s really that hot, there’s gotta be something wrong with him. So the universe is fair and shit.”

And Anakin had to agree. There truly was something wrong with the man. Deeply, deeply wrong. Disturbed, even. Not that it made it fair that Anakin still had to suffer every morning. Or that his eardrums felt like they might die.

The next morning, he resolved to put a stop to it, good looks aside. For the sake of both his sanity, and for the world. Well, the world of the train at 5:15 in the morning. It was important to him, okay?

So he steeled himself the next morning. Got up early so he could get coffee and fix his hair, because presentation was important in these sorts of confrontations. Not for any other reason. Anakin also wore his nice work shirt, the one without too many stains, for the impending argument, of course. He would’ve looked his best while telling any asshole to stop fucking singing Christmas songs on the train at ass-o’clock every morning, whether or not they were hot.

Okay, maybe it had something to do with the fact that the guy was hot. Whatever. Sue Anakin for wanting to make a better second impression.

When he got to the train, he felt all wound-up, just waiting for the inevitable. For Holly Jolly Christmas or All I Want for Christmas is You or Chestnuts Roasting on the Open Fire of Anakin’s Burning Hatred for Christmas Songs. Or whatever that last one was called. His knee was bouncing, fingers tapping, heart pounding in anticipation. For the inevitable confrontation, of course.

It began five minutes after Anakin sat down. 5:18 in the morning.

Fucking Spooky Scary Skeletons.

An insult to Anakin’s pride, to his honor, to his family, to the month of August, to Halloween, and to the world at large, that’s what the man behind him was singing. An insult of the highest order, and Anakin had only had one cup of coffee.

So he did something wild, something insane, something totally out of character for him.

He waited.

He waited until the train made its next stop, the one before his, and he moved quickly to sit across the aisle from the man.

“Hey,” he said before he could chicken out. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Hot Asshole turned to look at him slowly. “What do you mean?” He asked, all posh and British and refined, and wow, Anakin was beginning to understand the appeal of those love-hate, enemies-to-lovers, 100k slow burn type relationships. That was hot. Despite, or perhaps even more so because of, the man’s infuriating little eyebrow thing, it was really hot.

“Your stupid music,” Anakin heard himself saying, refusing to back down despite the sight in front of him. “Sir, are you aware that it’s August?”

The man smiled. Pretty, Anakin’s mind supplied. Shut up, he snapped back.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, folding his hands over one knee, crossing it over the other.

Anakin blinked, slowly, trying to let his brain catch up. “Well, you’re. It’s. That’s a Halloween song,” he said, feeling dumber by the second.

“And?” The man was still smiling, all innocent, and Anakin was suddenly unsure if it was nerves or annoyance making his face flush.

“And, um—well—whoever you are, you’re singing Halloween music. It’s August.”

“I’m Obi-Wan,” the man said unhelpfully. “And I don’t see what the issue is. Spooky Scary Skeletons is about bones. The human body. Personally, I think bodies are relevant year-round, don’t you?”

No, it was definitely annoyance.

“That’s about spooky, scary skeletons. It’s a fucking Halloween song. And even if it was applicable, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been singing fucking Christmas music every day for the past three weeks.” Anakin gave the man his best glare, but it didn’t seem to phase him. On the contrary, he just smiled a little brighter.

“It’s just what’s been stuck in my head,” he said, sounding innocent. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“I—just—I—I want you to go out with me!” Okay, so Anakin didn’t mean to say that. In the slightest. And Obi-Wan was looking at him weirdly, and also, that wasn’t even a good solution to what Obi-Wan was asking, so Anakin opened his mouth to backtrack, but before he could—

“Okay.” Obi-Wan shrugged, smiling slightly. Anakin’s heart did a funny little somersault. “Is this your stop?”

And shit—it was, and Anakin hadn’t even gotten past the initial asking. No time to ask for horrible, hot, annoyingly heart-pounding Christmas Asshole’s number.

But that was fine. After all, Anakin was probably going to have to tell him to sing an appropriate song the next day, as well.

[petri808]

Oh look at the date! Klance ficlet for @diablosart they know why lol 😏

“What the hell we’re you thinking?!” Keith snapped as he popped his helmet off and chucked it hard at the ground. “Thanks to you were now trapped in a cave in!”

“Look, I’m sorry! I got distracted!” Lance snapped back.

“By what?! We were supposed to be scanning for the jababian dagger. What were you doing, watching your smut videos again?!”

Lance pulled off his helmet with a scoff. “First off, I don’t watch smut videos. Second, even if I did, that’s none of your business. And third, no, I was scanning, just wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Keith rolled his eyes and spat back with a sarcastic riff. “Well that explains why you knocked both our cats out of the damn air crashing us into this place!”

Using a flashlight, Keith scanned the inside of the cave and noticed a lot of fractures spanning the walls. According to the computer in his Lion, the cave was full of an unstable and weak type of volcanic rock. ‘No wonder it caved in so easily…’ He groaned again. “Just great, if we try to blast our way out, it might collapse the ceiling on us.” Keith walked over to his helmet and picked it up. “I’ll need to do a thorough analysis before attempting to break free. The computers on the ship could do a better job scanning this cave, but they won’t arrive until morning.”

“Are you serious?! We’re stuck in here?!”

“At least for the night, so, stop your bitching since you’re the one who got us into this mess! Why don’t you start a fire while I get to work with the computer.”

“Fine,” Lance stomped away muttering to himself. He was just happy Keith was too irritated and didn’t press him further on what he’d been distracted about.

The pair had been sent ahead of the rest of the Voltron group to look for some kind of special dagger. Lance couldn’t remember what was so important about it, just that it possessed magical properties and they didn’t want it falling into the enemy’s hands. A distress signal was sent out to their ship, so now they just needed to settle in and stay warm until help arrived. He managed to find a cache of old animal bones deeper in the cave to use as fuel for the fire, coupled with some dried leaves and tetrodontyl feathers that must have blown in over the years for kindling. Whether it would last the night was yet to be seen, but it was all he had to work with. Their Lions only held so much in terms of supplies because they weren’t meant to hold long term reserves. But luckily there were emergency blankets and some instant rations they could eat.

Lance never realized just how cold and uninviting a cave could truly be until he became stuck in one. It was creepy with the sounds of bugs scurrying in the darkness, water drops echoing through the silent air, and occasional cracking sounds from any temperature fluctuations. He hated the quiet emptiness because it left open room for his mind to wander and more thoughts to break through as he stared into the flames of their campfire. Lance frowned and brows furrowed, remembering the distraction that led to this debacle. Of course, this was the opposite of what he would have wanted! Their lions sustained damage, and to be stuck, alone, with the reason for his distracted mind was causing his stomach to turn inside out.

Maybe Lance should have pushed Keith harder to drag Pidge or Hunk or Allura along on this trip and not him, anyone but him. He didn’t want to come. Didn’t want to be alone with the man. Hasn’t, for a while now ever since he’d developed different feelings for the guy. ‘How ironic,’ Lance groaned in his head. To go from professional jealousy to romantic pining, he was such a fool. Could anyone blame him? Keith was handsome and smart, but not surprisingly it took someone who could be as hot-headed as himself to catch his eye. Or maybe it was surprising if Lance really thought about it. Girls easily caught his attention, but with Keith it was an attraction that grew through close working confines and of admiration. In essence, he fell for the character of the man and not just for his looks.

“Oi?” Keith snapped his fingers to get Lance’s attention. “The eta is now 8 hours till Shiro and the rest get here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, okay.” Lance responded in a rather distracted tone that mirrored the monotonous looping thoughts in his head. He felt horrible about causing this disaster in the mission while at the same time kept thinking about Keith…

“That’s all you can say?” Keith questioned his teammate. “Okay?” But when he received no response, he pushed the man’s shoulder hard. “What is going on with you lately Lance? You’ve been distracted a lot and it’s starting to affect your performance.”

“Am I not allowed to have a bad day?” Lance retorted. “Everyone has their bad days, man, it’s not always a crisis.”

Keith sighed. His anger had dissipated but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still annoyed. He thought they were close enough friends that would turn to each other if something was wrong, but apparently he was mistaken. “It’s my job as the leader to worry, so cut the bullshit Lance. I know enough to know something is really bothering you. If you don’t wanna talk about it, fine, but you need to figure it out cause this,” he gestured to their damaged lions, “can’t keep happening.”

“I know, I know,” Lance dropped his head with a long exhale. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screw up. It’s just— there’s something eating me up and I have no idea what to about it.”

A silence took hold as the two men sat there illuminated by the fire’s light. Keith didn’t want to keep pushing, but he could see the angst on Lances face and it bothered him. In all the years they’ve known each other, there was only one other time he’d ever seen the man so… sad? But it couldn’t be for the same reason, because if Lance had met a new girl he was interested in, Keith was certain he would have heard about it immediately. Lance wasn’t exactly shy about the subject unlike himself. So, what could it be? Keith stared at the fire as he pondered what to say next, but nothing really felt right to say to his friend. This wasn’t exactly a topic he was skilled in with his own little buried secret. For the next couple of hours, they stayed that way, shifting only to stoke the fire or eat some of the rations they had available. It would probably be a great idea to get some rest, but neither made a move to do so. Just… kept staring in awkward silence at a dying fire.

The temperature change in the cavern was slower than it would have been if exposed to the outside air, but nonetheless, by the mid-way mark of their wait the pair could feel it dropping. Blankets were pulled tighter around their bodies in an effort to hold back the cold, and the men had moved closer together to conserve the body heat between them. Maybe it was the exhaustion kicking in, but the limited distance no longer bothered Lance. The hours of silent reflection were also leading him to one conclusion. If he wanted to stop the frustration, coming clean was the best solution. Yet one thing kept holding him back from making the leap— the proverbial aftermath.

Yeah, so telling Keith how he really felt might take the weight off his shoulders, but what would happen after that? What if Keith is disgusted? He’ll not only lose a friend, but how could they continue working together? That would be so uncomfortable! Lance groaned in his head. Would he be willing to give up his role in Voltron? What if Keith ended up leaving instead, causing him to feel guilty about it? Would the others hold it against him? Maybe if they talked it out, they can work out something amicable… ‘Argh!’ Lance screamed in his head as cradled his lowered head. Why did he fall for a teammate!

Keith looked over at the movement and saw Lance’s demeanor. “If you’re tired, why don’t you rest?”

“It’s not that,” Lance mumbled. “I mean I am, but it’s not that.”

“Oh…”

“Have you ever had a crush on someone but didn’t know how to tell them?”

‘So it is over a girl…’ Keith’s brow raised. “Why can’t you tell them?”

“Because, it’s awkward when you’ve known them for so long.”

‘Huh, so maybe it is Allura.’ Keith couldn’t say he was surprised, but it stung just a little. “You should probably just tell them, I mean if it’s eating you up this bad, isn’t it better to just know how they feel too?”

“I don’t know…” Lance sighed. “It’s not like they’ve ever given me a reason to think they’d like me back.”

“Still, once you do know, you can start moving forward again, cause right now you’re stuck and that’s worse.”

Lance glanced over to Keith who was looking in his direction. The man was right. Didn’t make a decision any easier… but he was probably right and all he could do is hope for the best. That didn’t mean he was ready to face Keith head-on either or see the physical reaction the man might have. Lance turned his head away and kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself for protection. “It’s… you…” he mumbled quietly.

“Come again? I didn’t catch that.”

“I said… It’s you.” Lance mumbled again, but this time a little louder.

“Me??”

“See, yeah, I told you it would be awkward— just forget I said anything. I feel better just getting it out.”

Keith forced Lance to turn back to him. “No, I mean I was just surprised cause you’re always chasing after women, but—”

“I’ll just drop it and move on,” Lance cut him off. “I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.”

“But that’s the thing,” Keith interjected, “I’m not. It’s okay because I’ve liked you too but I just thought you weren’t into guys.”

Lances eyes flashed wide. He really hadn’t expected such a response, especially not this quickly. “You do?” His voice trembled as he verified the man’s statement.

“Yeah…” Keith blushed. “I don’t exactly have experience in this stuff, but I like you too Lance.”

Lance jumped up in excitement. “Wow— for once my screw up turned out to be a good thing!”

“Uh-huh…” Keith chuckled. “But don’t do that again!”

[licieoic]

“Pour One Out” - Digital Oil Painting

Inspired by Suptober, theme: Pour One Out. Bartender/Patron AU! This one was actually inspired by a number of themes from Suptober including “Family Business” and “Favorite,” as shown in the ficlet below the cut. (It’s PG, though Dean is having some more adult oriented thoughts, LOL.)

Please see the pinned post at the top of my Tumblr for my links if you'd like to help support me in saving for a safe place to live!

“Hey.”

Looking up, Dean saw his brother, Sam, sticking his head into the brewing room. It had to be nearly time for his shift, he already had his abundant hair pulled back.

“Your favorite’s here,” he said.

Dean straightened up so fast, he nearly dropped the pitcher of beer he’d been pouring so carefully. “Trench Coat?” At least, that was the name he used with Sam; he didn’t want his brother knowing what he called the quiet man in his head. He’d never quite had the courage to ask the man’s actual name and since Winchester Bros was cash only, he couldn’t sneak a look at a credit card either. He’d considered asking for his ID, as that was perfectly acceptable in a bar, but since he was clearly over legal drinking age it would just make Dean look like he was stupid or an ass.

“Usual spot,” Sam answered before popping back into the main area of the bar.

He got up close to the shiny brewing vat in front of him and tried to check his appearance, but the metal didn’t make for a good mirror and left him looking deformed. Damn… He hoped there was nothing to worry about, like food in his teeth or crustiness in the corners of his green eyes, and that his light brown hair was just the right amount of tousled, leaning more toward ‘I woke up like this’ and less like ‘I use a lot of product.’ Then he reached into the pocket of his apron for the breath mint he always kept there, on the chance that his favorite patron would stop by.

It was easy to remember the first time he’d ever seen him, he doubted he would ever forget. Five months after he and Sam had opened the bar, they’d had to strike a deal with the Devil (Dean’s private name for their wealthy investor, Crowley) in order to save it from going under. It had always been their dream to start up a family business and they’d each quit lucrative careers (Dean as a mechanic, Sam as a lawyer) to open Winchester Bros. It had taken every penny of their life savings to do it, they just couldn’t give up so soon.

Pride still smarting with the knowledge that they’d be under Crowley’s thumb for the foreseeable future, Dean hadn’t exactly been the friendliest bartender that night. After being short with a small bachelorette party, Sam told him to concentrate on the solo patrons at the bar who usually weren’t the chatty types and leave the groups to him. Dean hadn’t argued, they needed as much patronage as possible, he could ill afford to turn what could be repeat customers into people who never came back just because he was in a mood.

Down at the far end of the bar, he saw a man with dark, messy hair hunched over the bar. He wore a slightly dirty trench coat over a deep navy suit and had a five o’clock shadow darkening his jawline. All in all, a fairly standard-looking barfly, if he were judging a book by its cover. Dean leaned both hands on the bar and tried not to sound too brusque as he asked, “What can I get you?”

Then the man looked up… and Dean forgot everything. He was lost in the bluest eyes ever to blue, bluer than the tie hanging crooked from the man’s neck. Dean’s mouth might have gone slack, he wasn’t sure. They were like angel’s eyes, almost too pretty to be real.

“I don’t know,” said the man, immediately dubbed Angel Eyes. He seemed kind of down, but that wasn’t unusual for a lone bar patron. “Do you have a menu?”

“W-we do,” said Dean, pulling over the list printed on laminated cardstock once he remembered how to speak. The line at the top read ‘Winchester Brews,’ which he’d thought damn clever at the time, now he worried it was corny. “Ahem… Everything on offer is brewed in-house, plus I can make you just about anything you like.”

“Anything, huh?” He looked at the menu, but didn’t really seem to be reading it. “I don’t know,” he said again, “surprise me?”

Something was really bothering this man, Dean could tell, his bartender instincts were jangling like crazy. His bi-dar, however, was all over the place. He never had a problem flirting with the ladies who came in, but it was always hard to tell if he was clear to make a pass at a man. That kind of thing could get dangerous, depending on who it was and what kind of attitude they had.

“Surprise you,” Dean repeated, reaching below the bar for a tumbler which he filled with a few ice cubes. “Well, you look like a man of… discerning tastes.” He followed this with a wink to test the waters. To his delight, Angel Eyes smiled. And Dean’s heartbeat doubled. He turned around and took a surreptitious breath in an attempt to calm it down, but it didn’t work.

From the back shelf, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey with a simple handwritten label on the front that read ‘Winchester Special #5’ and turned back to face him. As he poured, Dean said, “This here is our monthly special.”

“What makes it special?”

“It changes every month,” said Dean. “Afterward, we add it to the list of brews. And if you can guess the flavor, the inspiration behind it… it’s on me.”

“Has anyone gotten it right yet?” It was the nineteenth, he’d assumed correctly that some people had already tried Dean’s challenge.

He shook his head. “Not quite.” Gesturing at the tumbler, he quirked a brow and asked, “Care to try?”

Angel Eyes picked up the glass and took a sip. He tilted his head, appearing thoughtful.

“So?” asked Dean when he didn’t get an immediate answer. “What’s it taste like to you?”

“Hmm. Molecules.”

Dean laughed outright and Angel Eyes grinned. “Well, you’re not wrong!” he exclaimed. “Molecules, heh, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before, but is that your final answer?”

Swirling the ice in the glass, Angel Eyes took a longer pull, maintaining eye contact with Dean as he rolled the whiskey slowly over his tongue. Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and those bluer than blue eyes followed the movement.

Angel Eyes clicked his tongue. “Blueberry…” he said, slowly. “But there’s something else… It’s sweet and… creamy?”

“No hints,” said Dean, but mentally he was cheering the man on, wanting him to make the right guess, and he was so, so close.

He took one last sip from the glass, finishing it off. “It’s good. I like it. It reminds me of a blueberry sour cream pie. Final answer.”

Dean grinned broadly. “We have a winner!”

He returned the smile with one of his own and it seemed like both of them had forgotten their problems prior to their meeting each other. “Really?”

Nodding, Dean poured him another. “On me. Since you’re the first correct guess.”

He picked up the tumbler and saluted Dean with it. “Cheers.”

Dean nodded, a little disappointed that he didn’t have an excuse to keep their conversation going, and turned to go back to work.

“Oh, and—”

Heart in his throat, he looked back. Angel Eyes hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said, finally. “This… really helped.”

“Yeah?”

He made a vague gesture. “I don’t want to get into it, I know bartenders aren’t therapists,” he said. “Just some family issues.”

Dean’s heart sank. He had a family. Of course he did. “Well, you’re not the first guy to come here to escape his wife for a while,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Angel Eyes said.

“Girlfriend?” came out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop himself.

He shook his head. “One of my brothers is constantly going through a rebellious phase. Our father isn’t happy about it.”

“Ohhhh, well, I can definitely understand annoying brothers,” said Dean, aiming his thumb at Sam who was down at the opposite end of the bar, and forcing himself to swallow down any follow-up questions. He’d already said he didn’t want to talk about it, Dean wanted to respect that. “You should bring your family around,” he said, smiling. “It’s easier to open up after a few, you know?”

Angel Eyes chuckled. “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. Besides…” He thumbed the rim of his glass before glancing back up, hitting him with that blue gaze all over again. “I don’t know if I want them coming around here. Maybe I want to keep you all to myself.”

Any thoughts of pushing for more patrons to offset his and Sam’s massive debt had flown away. Dean could only nod like an idiot, he knew what the man meant, of course, but the unspoken implications in the statement were pinging around in his head like a super ball. He might have squeaked out an ‘okay’ or a ‘yeah’ as he headed back to work, he didn’t remember. He did remember almost tripping over his own feet and not looking back, knowing his face would be bright red. He pretended to not remember hearing another chuckle.

Since then, Angel Eyes came in at least once a week, always sat at the end of the bar, and always ordered the monthly special, even though he paid for each subsequent drink following his correct guess. He was never wrong about the flavor either, which amazed Dean, he even got the lemon meringue right. He’d been so sure that no one would get it – he’d heard lemon-vanilla, toasted marshmallow, all kinds of other things because who guesses ‘meringue’ for a whiskey anyway? Apparently, a man with gorgeous blue eyes in a slightly dirty trench coat. Three months in, he was the only person who’d figured out that Dean based all the specials on his favorite pies and it only made his guesses come that much quicker.

As he headed out to the front, he dropped off the pitcher of beer and grabbed #15 from the shelf. He almost couldn’t believe it had been ten months since his favorite patron had first come in. Tonight was the night, he resolved, he would ask for Angel Eyes’ actual name. Maybe in another ten months, he’d work up the courage to ask for his number. Dean internally rolled his eyes at himself. He was truly pathetic.

Angel Eyes perked up at the end of the bar the moment Dean emerged from the back, yellow light from a nearby neon sign on the wall reflecting off his dark hair, almost like a halo. They smiled at each other and Dean’s heart was immediately doing flips, seeing how obviously happy he was to see him. Could be the Crush Goggles, but still…

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Dean, filling the glass with ice and setting it down on the bar. “I was wondering when you’d be in to try the latest special.”

“I’m just hoping it isn’t Pumpkin Spice,” said Angel Eyes. Being that it was October, it was a fair comment. You couldn’t go ten feet without encountering something bearing that smell and/or flavor.

“I do like pumpkin pie,” said Dean, pouring the whiskey. “But I think it’s more of a November flavor.”

Dark brows lifted. “A hint? This is new. What did I do to deserve that?”

Dean laughed. “Maybe I’m in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Me too. It’s a good night.”

“Hopefully, about to be better,” said Dean, nodding at the glass.

“I don’t need to drink to have a good time,” he said, but picked up the tumbler all the same to have a sip.

“Your continued presence at my bar says otherwise,” said Dean.

Angel Eyes swallowed. “There are other reasons a person might come to a bar.”

“Such as?”

“Good ambience.” He took a longer sip and let his eyes wander over Dean before traveling back up as he swallowed. “I like the company.”

Dean hoped he wasn’t blushing but he couldn’t hold back a goofy smile. “You do get to meet all kinds of people in a place like this,” he said.

“Yes, though I was referring to one specific person.”

“Yeah?”

He finished the whiskey and set down the glass, meeting Dean’s eyes head-on. “Yes.”

Mouth dry, Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh…” He gestured at the tumbler. “Any guesses?”

“Maybe.” He trailed one finger around the rim of the glass. “If I pay for the drink, can I have something else as my prize? If I get it right, of course.”

“Uh.” He swallowed hard. “S-s-sure.” He could hardly manage the one word; he couldn’t even summon the brain power to ask what it was he wanted.

Smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Angel Eyes considered his answer. “This is a good one,” he said. “Definitely not pumpkin, but it has sweetness… and a note of tart as well.”

“Are you a sommelier?” Dean asked suddenly. “That would sure as hell explain a lot.”

He laughed, the bright sound so incongruous with his gravelly voice, it had quickly become one of Dean’s favorite things about him. So much so, that he would go out of his way to come up with a corny joke or allow himself to be a little clumsy, just for the chance to hear that laugh.

“No,” he said, still smiling. “Disappointed?”

“No. I just can’t figure out how you’re never wrong.”

“I haven’t made my guess yet,” he pointed out.

“And?”

Deliberately, he reached into his glass and retrieved a small ice cube. Before Dean knew what was happening, Angel Eyes was popping it into his mouth and sucking on it while he thought about what answer to give.

Guh. He has to be doing this on purpose! Dean thought. How does he make everything he does so sexy?

Still keeping eye contact with Dean, he bit down hard. Crunch! If he kept this up, Dean would need to run to the bathroom and readjust his jeans. To try and diffuse some of the tension in the air, Dean attempted to make a joke like he usually would.

“You, uh, you know what they say about people who chew their ice, don’t you?” he asked, almost tripping on his own tongue.

“No,” he said, to Dean’s surprise. “What do they say?”

Well, this backfired spectacularly, thought Dean. “They, uh… that they’re, well, you know…” Those clear blue eyes wouldn’t give him an inch, Angel Eyes sat patiently waiting to hear the punchline of Dean’s naughty joke like they were talking about the weather. He had no choice but to quietly stutter, “That they’re… s-s-sexually frustrated.”

“Oh.”

Really? That’s all you have to say, ‘oh’? thought Dean, incredulously. While he watched, Angel Eyes fished out another ice cube and crunched down on it viciously, all while holding Dean’s gaze, as if to punctuate his statement. Heat creeping up into his cheeks, Dean took a steadying breath. Curse blushing, he thought. Curse the noun, curse the verb, curse the act!

“H-have I finally stumped you?” Dean asked when his tongue decided to work again.

“Caramel apple rhubarb,” he said, definitively. “Final answer.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Dean, pounding one fist on the bar. “You did it again!”

All he did was smile in response, the handsome bastard. As he reached into his coat pocket, he casually remarked, “You know, your freckles disappear when you blush.”

He blinked. “They do?”

“Then I get to notice them all over again when they come back.” Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and placed it on the bar between them. “It’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all this time. Freckles.”

“Well, that’s kind of rude, how would you like it if my brother and I were calling you Trench Coat behind your back?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, good, because that’s totally what we’ve been doing.”

They snickered together.

“Out of curiosity,” said Dean, “what were you calling Sammy?”

“Manbun.”

Dean snorted. “I’m absolutely going to call him that.”

“So, his name is Sam? You don’t wear nametags, so I’ve only ever known your last name.”

“Nametags are lame.”

“They are. What’s your name, then?”

“Is this what you wanted instead of a free drink?”

“No, this is something I should have asked ten months ago.”

Fair point. Dean held out his hand. “Dean,” he said.

His fingers were cold from the ice but his palm was warm and smooth. “Castiel.”

“Wow.” It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard before; surprise mixed with his pleasure over finally learning the name of his long-held crush. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not sure. Probably something anti-climactic, like Steve.” He picked up the ten with his other hand. “I’ll get you some change.”

Castiel tightened his grip when Dean would have let go. “Keep it,” he said. “Consider it a tip.”

“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, tucking the bill into his apron pocket.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” asked Castiel.

“No.”

He grinned and it put all of the smiles Dean had received before to shame. It held a hint of mischievousness as he said, “That’s what I want.”

“You-you want—what? D-dinner? W-with me?” Dean couldn’t quite believe his ears. He’d barely been able to hope for a first-name basis tonight, he couldn’t possibly be so lucky as to score a date. But then, considering they’d been dancing around each other for ten months, maybe Castiel thought if he didn’t make the first move, it would never happen.

Bringing up his other hand, Castiel sandwiched Dean’s between the two as he said, very deliberately, “I don’t believe I’ve guessed wrong.”

Dean could be pretty dense sometimes, but he knew unequivocally that Castiel wasn’t talking about the whiskey. “I’m off in half an hour,” he said, smiling like an idiot.

“I’ll be waiting… Freckles.”

Okay… so maybe blushing wasn’t such a bad thing.

[spiderling-space]

Henlo Liho-san~! A new follower of yours uwu May I ask for hcs of how the dorm leaders would react with having an f!s/o who is mostly respectful and polite, suddenly about to throw hands with someone as they may or may not have said or complained about the dorm head they were dating. It was not a compliment in any way or form- I hope I didn't cross over any rules! But if I had to pick 5 out of 7 of them, it's Riddle, Azul, Idia, Kalim, and Vil. Thanks a bunch if you notice this~! Good Luck!!♡♡

Hey yo Nocturne! I know of you from liking I and Brew’s OC (twisted-whimsies): Mozerella Trein and a couple TW related posts of mine.

Prefects and Vice Prefects are exception from character limit.

After finishing this, I realized I wrote something between a ficlet and headcanon. I hope you’ll like it though 💕

My German knowledge is bugging me to write Vil’s surname with ö instead of o yet my order-loving side is telling me to stick to how it’s written in TW

Before I start I’m gonna add a quote from a fandom of mine 👀 one look at my OG blog would reveal which fandom it is.

“Fallaces sunt rerum species”

Meaning: The appearances of things are deceptive

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can handle himself. At least he could before his overblot episode. No body dared to talk behind his back.

But now he holds back, not using his unique magic frequently anymore which caused some students think he became too lenient and a couple students started to abuse this leniency

Every time someone tries his patience he counts to 10 internally or just ignore them. Don’t get him wrong, he still sticks to rules and makes his dorm follow the rules but he cannot force people to stop talking about him

Today is going to one of the days when he would ignore any bad mouthing because he is with (Y/N), the sweetest person he ever met

(Y/N) already saw at his worst when he overblotted. He doesn’t want her to see any more incidents such that.

He and (Y/N) decided to take a walk in Rose Gardens as a date. Then decided to get into Rose Maze, holding hands strictly for to not get lost.

“Prefect Rosehearts became such a softie. He is no longer fit to be our prefect.” “He never was. Mommy Issues needs to go back to kindergarten.”

(Y/N) and Riddle were in East side of Rose Maze when they heard 2 Heartslabyl students talking which made (Y/N) stop in her track. Riddle tugged her hand to move on but she didn’t budge.

“Riddle, honey, either push away those bushes or I’ll climb over it and have a nice chat with them.”

“There is no need.” — “okay then I’m climbing”

And she did. Riddle didn’t know how but she managed to go to other side of bushes by climbing to them.

“Hey jackasses! Would you like to say that again?” The two students were shocked to see Riddle’s girlfriend jump from above. “Wh- what?”

“I asked if you wanted to say those to my face.” And no answer.

Meanwhile Riddle was on the other side of bush walls, listening what’s happening.

“Did Riddle or did he not manage to increase Heartslabyl’s average grade?” “He did...” “Did he or did he not helped your dorm to have better ranking at Magift?” “He did...” “Did he treat you unfair ever since he fixed how he acted?” “No...” “Then what makes you say he is unfit? Is it because he is more tolerant on rules? Is it because he cares how his dorm mates feel?” No answer again. “I hope you come to your senses now because next time I hear something like this will be the first and last time you taste my wrath. Are we clear?” — “Yes ma’am!”

(Y/N) climbed over the bush again and landed in front of Riddle. With a kiss to his cheek, “Just because you give less punishment doesn’t mean you need to let people bully you. If anyone else acts this way, I’ll have a talk with them.”

She held his hand and pulled him into the maze again. Meanwhile Riddle was still wondering how his girlfriend climbed over a maze’s wall.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is used to people bad mouthing about him back in his palace. While in Savanaclaw, his dorm mates respected him and didn’t dare to oppose him. That is until they saw his vulnerable side during his overblot accident.

He heard a couple dorm mates say “He can’t do anything by himself.” “Good for nothing.” “All that lazy lion does is sleep.” “He must have lack brains to repeat the same year over and over again.”

He is used to ignoring them and sleeping it off. And his favorite pillow, (Y/N), helped him to dismiss their thoughts.

Leona only asked (Y/N) out because he figured she would be great body pillow. Certainly not her lively and cheerful attitude, nor her bright smile.

Leona asked (Y/N) out for a night date in Savanaclaw. It’s because he wanted to nap in his dorm. It’s absolutely not that Savanaclaw lounge looks romantic at night.

When (Y/N) arrived, she unfortunately heard those.

Leona tugged her arm to lead her to where their date suppose to take but no avail.

“Hold my purse, kitten.” (Y/N) handed her purse to Leona and went where those dorm members stand.

“Hey there is something in your face!” The main jerk looked up “Huh?” Proceeded with a punch to his face. “It was PAIN!” And ended with the guy falling to ground, holding his nose.

“Does anyone else have something on their faces?” The remaining ones shook their head in NO. “Good.” She turned on her heels and went to Leona’s side.

All Leona could do was admire her right hook. He did not think how she wouldn’t feel out of blue in Afterglow Savannah if she were to live there because women in his hometown are strong and fighters.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

(Y/N) first caught Azul’s eye when she sat down for 7 hours to read every single detail in his contract and demanded a change in certain conditions. Azul refused to make contract with her then offered her a job in Mostro Lounge.

With persuasion from the twins, Azul gathered courage to ask (Y/N) out. And she accepted.

They often stayed late hours in Mostro Lounge to spend some alone time.

After their quick date followed by closing of Mostro Lounge, Azul walked arm in arm with (Y/N) until the mirror passage. As they were walking, 2 Octavinelle student were messing around.

“Look at me! I’m the crybaby who hides behind two eels!” — “No one is making contract, I’mma cry now!” — “Maybe I can turn my crying into money. I can sell all the ink I cry!” “Nice one dude!”

One look to Azul’s face, (Y/N) understood he would deal with them either personally or the twins would play with them.

Not today Satan!

(Y/N) let Azul’s arm go and slowly approached the duo. “I am (Y/N), you can’t insult my boyfriend like that; prepare to die... socially I mean...” — “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have patience, time nor crayons to explain this to you but I’ll let you on a secret. Sometimes a nasty rumor, which doesn’t have to be true, can ruin someone’s entire school life. Maybe telling everyone your secret wish that you once asked from Azul or you offering a different type of payment to teachers to pass the grade.” — “You can’t do that!” — “I can and I will unless you cut the crap, ask for forgiveness and work for free in Mostro Louge for a week.” — “It’s a deal!”

Azul came to (Y/N)’s side as the two boys run away. Azul once again saw his angelfish using her wits to get what she wants. He knows she didn’t need to do that but he is flattered by the fact that his girlfriend wants to protect him.

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim asked (Y/N) out after spending time together after Jamil overblotted.

He is still the sunshine bean that brings smile to everyone’s faces. (Y/N) is as cheerful as Kalim and that’s why he hit it off

Kalim took (Y/N) to another carpet ride as a date. She loves the feeling of wind on her face on top clouds.

As they returned to the dorm, they heard a couple students talking.

“I don’t care what Jamil did. He was right! Kalim is unfit to represent us. After he became prefect, we became the last at everything.” — “How many Kalim can change a light bulb? None because he is too idiot and too incapable to change one. Hehehehe”

(Y/N) saw tears building up on Kalim’s eyes then she snapped. She made carpet to fly over them in law altitude then she jumped down in front of them. “Surprise motherfuckers!” Before anyone can understand what happened. (Y/N) kicked the one that made bulb joke between his legs then held and twist the ear of the other two. “You have 10 seconds to reconsider what you just talked. I suggest not to waste time.”

The trio tried to dismissed what they said but the glare they received made them comply. “Prefect Kalim, we are sorry to make fun of you.”

Kalim as the personification of sunbeams forgave them. Then turned his attention to his beloved. He was impressed by how she jumped down and was ready to protect him without any hesitation. He never thought someone as kind and happy person as her could hide a fighter in her. Not going to lie, he loves seeing this side of hers

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Being with Vil is exhausting. Don’t get her wrong, it’s not him (Y/N) is complaining. It’s the people around them.

(Y/N) started paying more attention to her appearance

(Y/N) was waiting for Vil to get ready, sitting on his bed. Vil had free time that day and they were going out.

As they went out of the room, whispering ensued as always but this time, for the first time, a Pomefiore student bad mouthed about Vil.

“He is compensating his wretched personality with his looks!”

Vil isn’t someone to care opinions of a no-mark but (Y/N) is

“Hold my earrings, my love.” (Y/N) took out her earrings and handed them to Vil. “I’m going to snatch his wig!” — “He’s not wearing a wig...”

“I take it you weren’t burned with overabundance of schooling. You think you’re a Gucci but you’re not even Lacoste. Now apologize before I think your face needs a makeover.” — “Gucci? Lacoste?” — “And I suggest hide your jealousy better. You can’t get near Vil as a fan and you try to make up for it by talking about something that you have no idea on. Honestly I am jealous of people who haven’t met you.”

(Y/N) waves back the boy, going back to Vil’s side then putting her earrings again.

Vil is quite pleased what has occurred. Not only he saw how (Y/N) can destroy someone with just words but he also saw a glimpse of what she thinks of him. Maybe he should hire some people to insult him so he can see this side of hers again.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia tries everything he can to stay in his room but there is an anime con that he and (Y/N) are going so he needs to get out of his room.

Idia and (Y/N) dressed up as his favorite anime couple.

Idia left his room voluntarily without any compulsory reason! It became a quick hit topic in Ignihyde.

Idia and (Y/N) went to anime-con and Ortho tagged along to record the ordeal.

They had to return early because some drunk in the con spilt juice on (Y/N).

So they returned NRC then Ignihyde. Ortho left for somewhere as Idia and (Y/N) walked in Ignihyde lounge.

“He doesn’t even go Dorm meeting but doesn’t have a problem with going a stupid con! Idia is an embarrassment to Ignihyde! All he does is play games and ramble about them!”

(Y/N) coughed gathering attention from the group.

Idia freaked out by being in highlight, hand pulled his chest, eyes widened.

“Baby, get behind me.” (Y/N) stepped in front of Idia and strutted to the Ignihyde student that was shit talking. “Pick a God and pray.”

The boy gulped. “Wh-What?!”

“Did I stutter?”

“I don’t know what—“ He threw his hands to air in frustration. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, twisting and pulling his arm. The momentum caused the boy to fell face forward. (Y/N) still holding his arm twisted, “Now, dear, you’ll apologize and promise that you’ll never speak of Idia that way. Then get out of my face or else..” — “Yes ma’am!” The boy did as he was told.

Idia couldn’t guess in a million years that his goody two shoes girlfriend was capable of pulling this stunt. What he saw right now made him think the fighter beautiful ladies in anime. It was like a dream come true for him.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

People feared Malleus for a really long time that he couldn’t remember anything else.

People avoided and tend to talk behind his back yet those didn’t reach insult level.

Who was stupid enough to dare that?

Malleus asked (Y/N) if she wanted to explore Diasomnia dorm and hear about the gargoyles of Diasomnia.

Of course she would love it. She loves when Malleus goes on about gargoyles for hours. And she is the only member in his club. Plus nightly strolls are their dates.

“He has no friends and no body loves him. For goodness’ sake, his intimating aura makes rest of dorm unapproachable! Can’t he just be gone already!?”

No genius is needed to know who that Diasomnia student was talking about.

Malleus’ mood turned sour immediately. He could curse that boy but this would only prove those wretched rumors.

(Y/N) finds Malleus’ sulking face extremely attractive (he is too attractive to be real) but no one has any right to upset her beloved.

“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”

“Dear, wait me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Off (Y/N) went to defend Malleus’ honor.

“Hi there! Couldn’t help but hear you. Have you ever thought you have no friends because you’re an ass?” — “Who do you think you are? Oh it’s you.” — “It’s me Mario!” — “Huh???”

“Now now, let’s talk shall we? All you do is complain yet you don’t do anything to improve anything. You hold others accountable when you fail while there is no one but you to blame. You’re so wrapped in your tiny bubble that you can’t see outside world. That’s what small minded people do. Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t give you any worse advice.” The guy was left speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. “Close your mouth or else you might swallow a fly.”

(Y/N) went back to Malleus side, winking at him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking this was such a queen act. Defending her beloved with her words. To be fair, Malleus finds everything (Y/N) does a fitting trait for a queen, the way she rambles, snorts, breaths, smiles...

Malleus only wishes he met (Y/N) ages ago.

[itwoodbeprefect]

decided to just compile a bunch of comments about my sga 1x01 rising rewatch into a single post because i don’t actually want to make a hundred posts in a row, so here, under the cut, many rambles:

announcer guy does, in fact, speak english upon a second attempt. well done on not forgetting to not speak german, announcer guy.

“i’m afraid of the thing” elizabeth says, about the drone chair, while standing next to it and looking like she wants to fuck it

rodney in that orange sweater! very orange! very warm!

john is on screen. john’s first words are helicopters he knows how to fly. john KINDA LIKES IT in antarctica. john has barely done anything and i already feel like crying a little bit about this guy who LIKES ANTARCTICA because he just wants to fly

POOR CARSON when he almost kills two people. “ai told ya ai was the wrong pursohn” :(

i really love how john sees the drone coming at the (landed) helicopter and yells “get out!” and they throw open their doors and john JUMPS and then it’s just “ugh.” and he’s belly-down on the floor and still like, almost under the helicopter. an attempt was made, for sure. just not a very succesful one.

the way john looks around like he’s never seen a ceiling before when he enters the base is just. very funny. and then some guy in particular is looking at him because he’s a bit of a weirdo and john looks back and the guy sort of looks him up and down and john looks away as if to check if anybody saw that. hmm.

john’s face of “oops” after he sits down in the chair and it ACTIVATES and carson RUNS OFF to go get literally everyone and john is realizing he MAY have just made a very giant big mistake. PRICELESS

teyla: my people have long believed the wraith will come if we venture into the ancient city. sumner, when the wraith come after he ventures into the ancient city: [surprised pikachu face]

gotta love how john insisting on saving his people is what wakes up the wraith, and saving his people is also what landed john in antarctica in the first place because he tried it in afghanistan once before. which wouldn’t have happened if there hadn’t been an american war in afghanistan in the first place, which there wouldn’t have been if bush hadn’t thrown the us into it, which wouldn’t have happened without 9/11, so... bin laden woke the wraith?

on the other hand john would never have had to go on a rescue mission on his first day in pegasus if sumner hadn’t gone into that city against the wishes of the people that already lived there and had a history dating back thousands of years with the place, so more realistically, the expeditions’ colonizer mentality woke the wraith. and then they just kinda... kept going with that for the rest of the show, because it worked out so well on that first day.

anyway i’m not even there yet - puddlejumper! it jumps puddles!

have to love the moment john realizes the puddlejumper is pretty literally reading his mind and giving him anything he can think of that is within its power (so no turkey sandwiches, but that’s okay). john is already in love with it just based on the fact that IT CAN FLY AND GO FAST (“i kinda like it here”, restored) but then all the ancient technology just seems to know him and love him back and gives him way more than he even thinks to ask for. which, for john, who doesn’t really do well expressing desires? a FLYING SHIP that then READS HIS MIND? starstruck. love at first sight. john&puddlejumper, instant bffs. i bet it would have popped a compartment with some stray bits of wire if he’d asked for a friendship bracelet right then and there. ford sitting there witnessing this doesn’t even know how hard he’s thirdwheeling it in that moment.

now i am at the bit where sumner is taken from the wraith prison to see the actual wraith, and look, obviously they’re evil and feed on humans etc etc, but this particular wraith’s sense of dramatics? unparalleled. she has them bring her victims one by one to a large foggy room with a looong table set with a wonderful dinner and then she LEAVES a DEAD BODY sitting at the head of the table (implied to be the athosian that was taken before sumner?) and drops down from the ceiling while sumner has his back turned for no reason except the spectacle of it all, and dracula himself literally couldn’t have made a better display out of this. it’s maybe scary in the way that it makes clear she’s a cat toying with a helpless mouse before she eats it, but it’s also hilarious in the way that this is absolutely a very bored immortal being who had to stay up while the rest went to sleep and is inventing high school improv plays with her dinner for some diversion. don’t play with your food, wraith queen. you’re scaring your dinner.

life signs detector!!! ford didn’t get to name the puddlejumpers gateships, but that one stuck, no matter how much “we can name it later” john was trying to throw at it!!!

(god. there’s a ficlet somewhere in there about season 2 john having a moment where he realizes he’s on the hunt for ford using the thing they first discovered together and that ford gave its name.)

getting sidetracked here, but when john and ford find the group of humans caught by the wraith teyla goes “major!” and it makes me think that. well. how are the athosians supposed to know things like “major” and “colonel” are military ranks? what are the chances the pegasus galaxy uses the same designations? (don’t really know how the language thing works here - we’re hopefully not supposed to think they’re all speaking english, are they? i’ve never watched sg1, there’s probably lore about this, i assume. maybe alien titles somehow get perfect translations to earth ones and vice versa.) but i mean, teyla is too smart, she’d have it figured out already even if those words don’t exist in her galaxy, but some athosian somewhere is going to be very confused by this earth tendency to name way too many kids private and lieutenant, and then put all of them into the army. strange, to have your job decided for you at birth like that. earth people are weeeeird.

fjdkl john is like bye, gonna go find colonel sumner all on my own, run if you don’t hear from me in twenty minutes, and ford’s like “you’re the only one who can fly these people out of here” and “i’m saying i should be the one to go, sir” and john, with his savior can’t-leave-anyone-behind-gotta-do-this-personally-or-i-will-literally-die-from-not-almost-dying complex DOES NOT LISTEN to ford’s EXTREMELY ACCURATE objection. which is his right, as ranking officer, but is also a perfect showcase of why john Should Not Ever be in charge of atlantis, and why sam saying he was totally on the shortlist when she takes over command in s4 is funny but frightening if you’re on atlantis and like being alive.

sumner: “we travel through the stargate as peaceful explorers.” FDJKFD. god, that line, from that character, hilarious.

rodney comes to elizabeth full of enthusiasm about all the interesting stuff they’re finding in the city only to find her staring at the empty gate and when she says she should never have let them (the rescue party) go, he sobers up and says awkwardly “for what it’s worth, you made the right decision” and that’s GOOD that’s KIND.

back on the planet with the wraith everyone is running to the jumper while there are wraith darts whizzing through the air and teyla turns back, catches up with ford who was told to cover their six, disarms him (because he was firing at illusions, revealing their position), hands him back his weapon, pulls him in the direction of the puddlejumper, and PUSHES HIM ASIDE when they’re almost scooped up by a wraith dart, and i’m so here for teyla being allowed a moment of heroics that saves specifically ford, guy with a gun, and not a random athosian damsel in distress. teyla is fully on their level. teyla is perhaps above their level. thank you.

that scene at the end of this episode!! in which there’s a sort of party on atlantis and it’s all buzzing and relaxed while the athosians are mingling freely with the expedition members and they’re talking of friendship and ugh. UGH. there’s a better version of sga in an alternate universe where the expedition didn’t decide atlantis was totally theirs, actually, and they cooperate with the people that were already in the galaxy when they came there and learn from sumner’s mistake to actually respect what they have to say and form a single front and teyla takes over as head of the expedition in s4 when there’s a void left by elizabeth’s absence.

final thought that has always haunted me a little: john suddenly becoming the ranking military member on atlantis after sumner’s death is ?? one of those things where i wonder what the sgc was thinking in their personnel assignments. john wasn’t even supposed to BE THERE. if john hadn’t gone and sumner had still died (which was something they should have considered as a possiblitiy! they didn’t know what they were walking into at all! sumner is apparently the type to lead his own missions!), then what exactly would they have done? i don’t know much about how the us military operates but i’ve watched enough mash to have figured out the order of the ranks and it just seems. very odd to me? to take one (1) colonel on this mission and then ZERO lieutenant colonels OR majors (if john hadn’t stumbled his way into it, that is). like, are there any captains on atlantis? (i think there are?) or would ford, a lieutenant, have ended up ranking military member? this is like the surely-they-only-need-a-single-medical-doctor-right thing. WHAT IS THE SGC THINKING.

anyway. this was good. i liked this. i hadn’t rewatched the pilot in a while, and i only just now figured out how much of a while, because there was a bunch in here i didn’t remember. ON TO EPISODE TWO.