#lol age barbs

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Phichit Chulanont, Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice) Additional Tags: No Beta, Alternate Universe - Magic, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, Smitten Katsuki Yuuri, Dating, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Featuring the Rings Summary:

Yuri snorts, taking the wooden spoon out of the caldron and waving his hand to magic out the flames under the recipient. Viktor is already disposing the glass vials next to it, ready to be filled with tonight’s potion.

  “Yeah, right. You don’t like this house, Viktor, you just like the neighbor. You’re always flirting with him. And that’s disgusting, by the way, stop it.”

 An AU starting at Halloween and ending on Valentine's day. The best stories are made of magic, aren't they?

[qprstobin]

the stobin bathroom scene is literally sacred to me and the scoops troop dynamic is <3 I complain endlessly about how the soviet storyline was implemented but the character side of things is perfect to me...adding in yet another character is so not fun for me bc they are not adding anything particularly interesting usually just sexual tension with Steve and it's usually undermining the dynamics I do care about..ppl should consider adding Eddie to like . j/ncy s3 scenes instead

GODS SAME like... fighting russians under the mall is so incredibly stupid but i love the scoops troop scenes and dynamics SO MUCH. and yeah like whenever people add another character they always want them to get captured with steve and robin (or instead of robin which like i said in my tags.... n o).

like ig there are ways you could add another person if you keep them with erica and dustin (ive done it twice for specific aus that arent published yet) but like not only does it fuck with the stobin dynamic if you have the extra person captured with stobin, but also.... each of them have a door what are you expecting a third person to do?? it makes more sense for if there is a third teen/adult for them to stay and "protect" the kids anyway like you dont need to give them torture trauma too.

its funny bc i really do love the like, actual mall aspects of eddie working at a music store and becoming friends with them/flirting with steve, but i dont need him to then join the scoops troop when the upside down shit comes knocking. i swear people love to use eddie to screw up the stobin dynamic. (another pet peeve is every s3 au where for some reason? robin and eddie are already best friends? and like gang up on steve? like just bc they're queer does not automatically mean they are going to be bffs. its pretty significant to robins character that she also seems to be kind of a loner just like steve.)

and honestly YEAH theres literally three other plotlines going on that you can add characters like eddie or others too? have them get chased and traumatized thru the hospital. have them trying to corral five 14 year olds while they try to capture and then escape a possessed billy hargrove. i think it would be very funny to throw someone in with the jopper group and have them have to fifth wheel jopper and the murray/alexei duos.

hell, make up a hellfire member who has been flayed and that eddie is trying to figure out why theyre acting so weird, and have him follow them to starcourt or st! like some of those people just fucking walked away in the middle of convos during that one scene dfifjgsdigs there are so many fun things people could do to add characters to the group and yall wanna mess with the scoops troop dynamic?

[spatialwave]

"yes, sir."

pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k ask: “Cooper x Reader where reader’s a girl with a kink for cowboys, and Cooper plays it up for her? Kind of a roleplay situation (smut), also if he’s into how small she is, that’d be great.” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, cowboy/cowgirl kink, size difference, age difference, dom!cooper, sub!reader, oral (m+f receiving), doggy-style, riding/cowgirl, edging/denial, praising, slight verbal degradation, bondage, gagging, you’re cooper’s babygirl. notes: big thank you to the anon who asked for a cowboy kink/size difference fic, hehe. i hope it was okay that i wrote pre war cooper, but when i think of cowboy, i think of him in that slutty little cowboy fit, lol.

“come on, coop, don’t be a prude,” you said with a big smile, standing in front of your partner with your hands interlocked in his, “you played a sheriff before, why can’t you do it for me?”

his lips curved into a smile as he titled his head down, his hat covering the red blush rising on his cheeks, “maybe i am turning into a prude,” he chuckled, rousing a laugh from you as you led him into the bedroom with a coy smile spread on your lips.

you’d been seeing cooper howard exclusively for a few weeks, having weaseled your way into his life a few short months after his divorce had been finalized. you were a young stable girl at the ranch where he’d kept sugarfoot, no longer living with barb in their old house meant he didn’t have the capacity to care for her on his own anymore. it was difficult, but he trusted one of the best ranchers just out of los angeles.

it was a stroke of luck to have been the one to help him the first day he stopped by your grandfather’s ranch, keeping yourself from bursting into excitement as you got his mare situated in her new home. there was immediate chemistry flowing between each other, but you knew cooper was tiptoeing around you, and you couldn’t blame him. 

you were certainly much younger than he was.

the movie star came around often, and although he’d spent most of his time riding sugarfoot, you couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times you’d caught him staring at you, covering it up by hiding his eyes behind the cowboy hat you’d always seen him wearing.

the sexual tension was mutual, so you acted on it.

you saw first-hand how incredibly pent-up he was, but you still couldn’t believe how quick he was to say yes when you offered him a blowjob a few days later. you didn’t beat around the bush when you knew what you wanted.

you led him behind one of the stables, covered up by a stack of hay bails, as you took him down your throat like the good girl you were. cooper didn’t last long, choking out a moan as he came in your mouth after a minute or two. 

since then, cooper was head over heels for you—the country girl he always wanted. someone who would say yes in a heartbeat if he asked you to go up to bakersfield with him to live on a ranch. it was dangerous territory, he was sure of it, but he’d never once felt so much fire in his heart when he was around you. you kept his spirit young.

likewise, cooper howard was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man. handsome, kind-hearted, and eager to please.

that’s why he couldn’t say no when you asked so nicely for him to do some roleplaying with you in bed. wasn’t your fault that you had a thing for cowboys, and he just happened to be the hottest one you’d ever set eyes on.

so, there you were in his bedroom in nothing but a skimpy bra and panties set that he bought you a week earlier. red, see-through lace that cupped your perky tits and accentuated the curves of your ass. you made sure he was fully dressed, though, from a cowboy hat all the way down to the worn-in boots.

“see, baby?” you purred, kneeling on the edge of his bed like a minx, “there’s no one sexier than you, cowboy.”

it was hard to miss the flicker of interest in cooper’s eyes as you cooed at him. his cock twitching under his denim jeans that he desperately wanted off.

if this is what you wanted, then he’d sure as hell give it to you.

“don’t talk like you’re the one in charge here. i’m the sheriff around these parts,” he drawled through a smirk, his voice alone making you wet in anticipation, “so, be a good girl and listen to me,” cooper stepped forward, towering over your small frame as a calloused hand tilted your chin up to look at him, “ya’ think ya’ can do that for me, sweetheart?”

“yes, sir,” you murmured, a soft squeak escaping your lips when he pressed his lips against yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that made your stomach twist and turn in all the right ways. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, and you opened your lips for him to taste all of you, but he pulled back just to leave you craving more, “please.” you whimpered.

“shhh,” his lips pulled into a half-grin, and you knew then and there that he was enjoying this power dynamic as much as you were, “i need ya’ to be nice and quiet for me. don’t want anyone else in town listenin’ to what i do to you.”

your lips trembled as you sat patiently in front of him, heat building in your abdomen as your cunt squeezed and ached around nothing. cooper took off his hat, placing it nicely over your head—claiming you as his.

“lay back, darlin’,” he whispered, dipping his head low and following you as you landed onto the soft bed. he crawled over you, pressing wet kisses to your neck, down your chest until his lips teased around the band of your panties, “now, look at how wet you are. i barely even touched ya’,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cunt over the wet fabric.

you held onto his hat, keeping it on your head, as you arched your back and chewed down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pleasure. 

he tongued at the fabric, finding your swollen clit and giving it attention that you would’ve preferred without your underwear on. you kept quiet, though, knowing that if you were on your best behaviour, ‘the sheriff’ would be sure to give you everything you needed.

a whimper barely escaped your lips when he tugged the fabric aside, cool air making you pulse and twitch.

“christ, baby,” he groaned, “you want my cock so bad, don’t you? i bet you wanna’ ride me until you’re screamin’ my name and beggin’ for me to let you cum.”

you were fighting for your life as cooper’s thumb pressed slow circles on your bundle of nerves, the words falling from his tongue sending your stomach into a fit of butterflies. he had never been so vulgar with the way he spoke, you weren’t sure you’d be lasting long if he kept it up.

“cooper, please,” the words spilled from you before you could stop, a moan choking in your throat, “shit—i mean, sir,” you whined.

a man of his word, cooper pulled away from you, standing at the edge of the bed and watching the way you squirmed without his touch.

“i told you to be quiet,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unbuttoning the blue and yellow top that looked so perfect on him. accented with leather fringes hanging off his broad shoulder, and a little golden star on the left side—just like a sheriff, “i thought you’ were goin’ to be a good girl for me,” he sighed, “suppose i need to punish you, until you learn to behave.”

he finished unbuttoning the top, leaving his chest exposed, as he reached down and undid his belt buckle with one hand. cooper pulled the leather out from the belt loops of his denim, and your mind went haywire at the sharp sound.

“lay on your stomach,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you obeyed. his hands took your wrists, pulling them behind you so he could snag them together until his belt had them forcefully restricted. he let out a whistle, “you look goddamn’ pretty all tied up,” he smiled, large hands reaching down and massaging your ass before pulling your panties off.

you looked over your shoulder at the cowboy, trying to pry your wrists apart, but he was good with a belt. eyes settled on his exposed chest and your mouth pooled with saliva, wishing you could turn around and let him fuck you while your fingernails scratched against his abs and left reddened marks on his skin.

cooper’s hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto spread knees on the edge of the bed, just high enough so he had the perfect angle to fuck you as good as he believed you deserved. you kept your face turned to the side, breathing heavy and biting back moans as you felt his fingers rub through your folds. already you felt your knees wanting to give up, but you willed yourself to stay upright. the last thing you needed was to upset him and be edged for hours—or worse, not allowed to cum at all.

he pushed a finger inside you, heavy-lidded hazel eyes watching your expression as your tight cunt contracted around his digit. your fingers bent and dug into the leather belt as he slid in a second, roughly finger fucking you as your eyes had begun to roll into the back of your head. it was so damned good, but it wasn’t enough—you rocked your hips back against his fingers, silently begging for him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

you held back a moan, the sound radiating deep in your chest and loud enough for cooper to hear.

“now, now, babygirl,” he murmured gently, free hand holding your hips still, “once i start fuckin’ you, i promise you can try bein’ as loud as you want.”

that alone made another whimper come from you, an agonizing feeling swallowing you whole when his fingers pulled out and left you empty and exposed. 

you opened your mouth, ready to talk out of turn and beg for his cock desperately, but you were met with your panties being shoved between your lips, rightly so. a makeshift gag that would make it near impossible to get any sounds out.

“good girl,” cooper uttered, his hand brushing back hair so he could see your face, “i did say ‘try’, didn’t i?” he chuckled, taking far too much pleasure in the dominance he had over you, and by the looks of you, he knew you loved it.

he shimmied the opened shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them to his thighs, so his cock sprung free. the cowboy didn’t waste time running the head along your wet pussy, watching as his pre-cum dripped out and coated your entrance. the lace gag muffled your moans as each stroke along you made your thighs quake in pleasure, leaving you a complete fucking mess.

“fuck,” he groaned lowly, holding the base of his cock with his right hand, the other holding your hip up so you didn’t collapse, “i don’t know how you’re gonna’ take this cock,” he breathed heavy, slowly pushing into your cunt, “so small… just a sweet little thing.” 

you groaned, your tongue pressing against the fabric in your mouth when tears stung your ears as his cock filled you. he wasn’t wrong, you weren’t sure how you managed to take him; he towered over you in height, and he was very well-endowed. he often fucked you so deep that your stomach bulged with each rough snap of his hips, his hand would press against your lower tummy so he could feel his cock fucking you dumb.

cooper groaned when he reached the hilt, giving you only a few seconds to adjust to the fullness you were a good girl who could take it, you’d proven that many times.

his thick cock slid through your swollen walls and stretched you with each forward push of his hips, balls slapping hard against your clit. you were gagging on the fabric pathetically, the sounds from you nothing more than muffled whimpers.

his hand tugged on the belt strapped tight around your wrists, using it as leverage as he fucked you so hard you felt like you might pass out. your eyes fluttered closed as they rolled back, body shaking in tandem with the bed as spit dripped down your chin after your panties fully soaked in your mouth.

with how tight you were squeezing around his cock, cooper knew you were close. 

“don’t cum, yet, baby,” he moaned, head falling back as he rocked hard against you, tugging harder on your wrists so you were pulled up from the bed, tits bouncing with every thrust.

you were seconds away from cumming when cooper dropped your wrists and pulled out—your cunt dripping with juices down your thighs. you landed hard against the bed, face buried in the blanket as it swallowed up the tears streaming down your cheeks from the denial. your lover undid the belt around your wrists, and you were quick to pull them apart, relishing in the freedom to touch where you wanted.

cooper bent down and pressed his tongue to your abused cunt, lapping at you wildly and getting a good taste. you pulled the gag out of your mouth just in time to let out a strangled moan, vibrating deep from your chest.

“fuck, cooper—“ you cried, hips and knees shaking uncontrollably, “you’re gonna’ make me cum, please, don’t stop. i wanna’ cum so bad.”

“you cum when i tell you, you can,” he mumbled against you, hands grabbing tight at your ass as his tongue pushed inside you.

it took everything for you to focus on holding back your climax, the way his tongue penetrated you nearly threw you over the edge, but he was good at knowing your triggers. he pulled back from you, licking his lips as he stood back up on his feet and kicked off his boots and jeans.

“ride me,” he said breathlessly, watching you crawl to your hands and knees as he moved to lay back on the bed with his head in the pillows, “you like ridin’ cowboys, don’t you?”

“yes, sir,” you mewled, chewing on your bottom lip as you moved to straddle him. cooper had never looked sexier to you, his forehead and chest were damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed a perfect shade of pink. 

with one hand, he reached behind you and unhooked the clasp of your bra, snagging the fabric from your body and tossing it off the bed. his hands were quick to massage your tits, squeezing your nipples between his fingers as you sunk down on his cock with one quick drop of your hips. 

you and cooper moaned together as he stretched you out, your body flushed hot as you pressed your hands to his chest and rocked your hips. 

he praised you often, saying sweet little nothing's and showering you in compliments as you rode him just the way he liked it. there was no better gratification than watching the way his face twisted in pleasure as he moaned your name over and over like a prayer.

“i want you to cum in me,” you said through a quick inhale, beginning to lose your breath, “please, sir. i’ve been so good for you.”

a guttural growl came from him as he grabbed at your jaw and yanked you down roughly into a hungry kiss. he licked into your mouth, and you were much too willing to part your lips and let him take your breath away.

cooper lifted his hips with his remaining strength, just enough so he could pull his cock from you and thrust back up, fucking you relentlessly. you buried your face against his neck, gurgled moans bubbling up your throat and into his ear as your body rolled toward the edge once again. his stubble rubbed against your cheek, and it was the only thing you focused on as you held back your orgasm until he gave you permission.

you had become nothing but a toy of pleasure for him, your body limp as he slammed his hips into yours, and the sound of your skin slapping together echoed louder than the headboard banging against the wall.

“you take my cock so fuckin’ good, baby. i want you to cum with me,” cooper whined into your ear, and you could hear his voice shaking, “fuck, i’m gonna’ cum,” he growled.

cooper reached a hand between you and thumbed at your clit, circling it several times in a quick pattern—all you needed for your pleasure to erupt you into a state of euphoria. you saw stars, a fucked out smile on your lips as your cunt tightened around his cock and left you babbling his name as cooper continued to fuck you. his thrusts stuttered a few times, unable to keep up the rhythm as your pulsing cunt milked out his orgasm. he came inside you with a deep-throated groan, filling you with wet, sticky cum.

his body finally gave in, and he collapsed back on the bed with you dropping to his chest. you were both covered in sweat, chests heaving as you caught your breath and gave your bodies time to be still and quiet. relishing in the aftermath of one of your kinkiest rendezvous.

cooper was the first to groan and shift in his position, his body already sore and knowing he’d be aching for a couple days. those beautiful hazel eyes of his stayed focused on your face as you leaned your head back to get a good look at him. he smiled lopsided, making you blush, as his hand brushed hair out of your face that clung to the sweat gathering on your skin.

“you’re so damn perfect,” he whispered to you in that thick southern accent, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips that made you fall in love with him all over again, “my babygirl.”

[healinghyunjin]

Blossom

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader (fem)

Genre: crack, smut, fluff; historical!AU, magic!AU, fuck-or-die(ish)!AU, enemies(ish)-to-lovers!AU, 18+

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, outdated sexual norms/attitudes, public sex.

Author’s Note: After another ~long~ hiatus... I'm back! The premise of this fic is heavily inspired by a super old, now deleted AO3 fic I once read for a now dead fandom (showing my age here for you children lol). I love navigating these forced interaction scenarios - so please let me know your thoughts! Feedback and reblogs are love as always - and I now have a Ko-Fi that I would really appreciate contributions to as well (linked in my Bio)! Thank you for your support~

Summary: But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 

You were sure you looked like a thundercloud - dark skirts swirling, white sparks crackling from your fingertips - as you stalked through the castle towards the royal chambers.

“Milady!” Changbin chased after you, your long-suffering knight trying his best to head you off. “His Majesty is in a council meeting right now,” he huffed out. “Maybe we can seek an audience another time?”

“I don’t ‘seek audiences’ from His Majesty, Bin,” the title grating in your mouth. “I talk to Kim Seungmin when I want to talk to Kim Seungmin - especially when he wants to pretend like I don’t exist.” 

You were laying it on a bit thick. But you were the High Sorceress. You had no insignificant amount of pride yourself, and nothing made your temper flare like Seungmin outmaneuvering you - exactly like he’d just done. 

You arrived at the heavy wrought iron doors of Seungmin’s private chambers and, with a swish of your palm, sent the doors flying open, almost rattling off their hinges. A tableful of lords turned around to gawk at you - but you only had eyes for the man at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, watching you stalk into the room with a barely concealed grin. “And there she is.” The faint note of humor in Seungmin’s voice made you want to wring his neck.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted in the frostiest voice you could muster up. 

Seungmin smirked. “You only use my proper title when you’re fit to rip my throat out, Lady Sorceress.” 

You ignored the barb. “We have an urgent matter to discuss, my lord.”

One of the old, stodgy lords piped up in a reedy, disapproving voice. “What can take precedence over matters of council and state, Sorceress?”

“Matters of national security, Lord Park.” Seungmin rose to his feet, making everyone else jump up to theirs as well. “Council is adjourned, my lords.”

You held your head high as the councilmen streamed out of the room around you, some barely bothering to disguise their resentment. Seungmin sauntered his way around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. You scowled as you inevitably had to tilt your head back just to look into his amused face. 

“You’ve been avoiding me, my witch.” 

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snapped back, cringing at how petulant you sounded even to your own ears. 

Of course you’d been avoiding him. Ever since he’d slapped those scrolls down on your worktable a week ago now, you hadn’t been able to think about him without flushing, let alone be in the same room as him. It would be for the good of the people, he’d announced crisply, looking so tall and prim and regal as he towered over you sitting on your little garden stool. I’m sure you won’t see any harm in it. You’d scanned through the parchment, ignoring the scribe’s careful translations to parse the ancient runes yourself. It outlined an ancient magical ritual to replenish the barrier wards for your nation if they ever fell - which they had. But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 

Seungmin snapped you out of your thoughts with a brief “Ahem,” quirking a skeptical eyebrow at you. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Every time I’ve gone to your rooms since the day I gave you those scrolls, you’re conveniently ‘not there,’ and that poor fool,” he flicked a thumb over to point at Changbin, “is stuck trying - and failing - to make excuses for you.”

You shot a glare over at Changbin - he didn’t look sufficiently embarrassed of himself, but you would deal with that later. “Well, I’m here now, my lord. And I’d appreciate it if you could tell me how you unilaterally decided to add ‘Publicly Deflowering the High Witch’ to your agenda for this evening?”

You’d hoped to embarrass Seungmin, browbeat him - like you’d clearly done to Changbin, judging from the choking sound that came from next to you. But you’d underestimated your enemy. 

Seungmin sighed, clasping his arms behind his back. “Because we don’t have a choice in the matter, my dear witch. If you’d allowed me the chance to actually talk to you this week, I could have convinced you of that, and you'd have had time to prepare yourself. But - you didn’t, and so, I had to force your hand.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his piercing stare as he continued. “I know you translated the runes yourself - you know just as well as I do that this ritual needs to be done soon. Now, if we don’t want the Eastern Army taking advantage and invading us as soon as they muster up the forces. But unlike you, my lady - I don’t have the luxury to pretend like this problem will go away if I ignore it.” 

And that was exactly what you hated most about Kim Seungmin. He was smart and logical to a fault - enough so that he’d trained himself to not let pesky emotions get in the way of doing what needed to be done. You on the other hand… the less said the better on that front. 

Before you could snark something back at him or even just bristle up, Seungmin stepped away from you, rubbing his hands together. “Now that that’s been settled, I’m sure you have no more objections. Anyways, you have a busy afternoon ahead of you, Lady Sorceress. I’ve sent several maids to your chambers to help ready you for this evening - I’m sure you remember how exact the runes were in terms of preparation.” Seungmin wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, striding out of the room. 

That patronizing bastard. You briefly contemplated throwing a fireball at his laughing back - but being executed for treason wasn’t exactly the way you intended to go out. 

With a deep, soul-weary sigh, you turned on your heel to leave, resigning yourself to your fate. 

Of course, if you knew exactly how the rest of your afternoon was going to be spent, you might just have thrown that fireball at Seungmin and gotten it over with. 

After that useless showdown, Changbin frogmarched you back to your rooms, handing you off to an actually intimidating keeper - Chaeryeong, your personal maid. But, to your even greater chagrin, she wasn’t alone. As promised, an army of maids descended on you, all charged with different vicious tasks - stripping your skin bare and smooth with hot sugar paste; kneading various herbal, floral unguents into your skin before dunking you into cold and hot baths; brushing your hair out until it fairly gleamed in the fading sunlight. By the time you were passed off to Chaeryeong for her final inspection, you almost didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. 

Chaeryeong clicked her tongue approvingly as she walked around you, tightening the laces on your virginal white chemise. “You finally look presentable, milady.”

You bristled. “Are you saying I usually don’t?”

“Last week I had to pull a twig out of your hair before sending you down to supper. There isn’t a single dress of yours that doesn’t have mudstains, milady, and you think a splash of cold water every morning or two is enough to care for your skin.” Chaeryeong looked scandalized.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I’m glad one of us is satisfied with this situation.”

“You’re not?” 

“Why in the name of the Goddess would I be?”

“Sleeping with a man who’s young, tall, handsome, powerful, wealthy,” Chaeryeong giggled as she counted off each word on her fingers, “isn’t the worst thing in the world, milady.” She flicked you a mischievous glance as she smoothly slid to stand behind you. “Especially when the man in question has a major soft spot for you.”

You scoffed. “Kim Seungmin doesn’t have a soft spot for me, Chae. He can't even be in the same room as me without snarking at me - and I can't remember the last time he actually said anything nice to me.”

Chaeryeong’s fingers stilled in your hair as she stared you down in the mirror. “You really believe that, don’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at her in response. She let out a deep sigh. “For such a brilliant witch… you really can be dense.” She shook her head before reaching over to grab flowers to weave into your hair. “I hope you realize - the one thing standing between him and war is you. Most men - especially a King - would have just tossed you onto that table and had their way with you. And maybe they would have begged your forgiveness and understanding afterwards - maybe, if they were worried about you cursing them into oblivion. No one else would have spent a whole week waiting to try and convince you into doing this willingly.”

You opened your mouth to snap something back in your defense... and realized you had nothing to say. 

“See,” Chaeryeong murmured softly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re… willfully blind to His Majesty’s kindness towards you. He’s always treated you with respect - and made sure you’re treated with respect. I wouldn’t take that for granted, my lady - or ignore what’s behind that mask he puts up all the time.” 

As she put the final touches on your hair, you couldn’t help but reflect on Chaeryeong’s words. You had extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress…but no, that wasn’t exactly right. You were given extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress - by your King. If it wasn’t for his unwavering support for you - against the Council, against any and all reactionary forces - you wouldn't hold any of the power you did. Sure, he riled you up, jerked you around a bit - and you still hated just how easily he could outwit you. But you were being childish to fixate on that - to lose sight of the forest for the trees. 

“And here’s the final touch.” Chaeryeong sidled up to you with a long scrap of silk in her hands - your blindfold. “You’re not allowed to see His Majesty until the ritual starts.” Her quick fingers made short work of fastening it around your head - and being the jerk that she was, she put it on properly tight, making sure you couldn’t see a thing. “Maybe that’ll teach you to let yourself lean on him for once,” she mused, before pulling you up out of your chair with none too gentle hands. 

Chaeryeong, as always, was right. You were completely unmoored by the loss of your sight, limiting your magical abilities too. You were forced to rely completely, like a baby, on Chaeryeong to guide you through the halls to the oldest wing of the castle - and you only realized that you were in front of Seungmin when the two of you came to a sudden halt, a reverent “Your Majesty” coming from her lips. 

This was it. 

Chaeryeong subtly pulled you down into a curtsy, pinching you in the back to make sure you stayed low as she stepped away from your side. From the sound of her sharp footsteps receding down the hall and the lack of any other noise around you, you presumed she’d left - and you were now alone with your King. 

“You may rise.” Seungmin’s amused drawl sounded from somewhere high above your head. Disoriented by your imposed blindness, you stumbled a little as you stood up - but you were caught by warm hands encircling your arms, steadying you on your feet. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?” Such a tease, you thought. But the gentle tone of his voice, the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your arms… he was helping ground you, to put you more at ease - which only made you feel more guilty. 

“My lord,” you started softly - earning a harsh inhale in surprise from Seungmin. “I… I owe you an apology. My behavior earlier today - for this entire week - has been immature and not fitting for a ranking member of your court. Forgive me for my negligence.” You made to dip into a curtsy again - but Seungmin’s grip on your arms tightened, keeping you from lowering yourself. 

There was a heartbeat of silence before Seungmin responded, his voice more tender than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know what prompted this… change, but - you don’t need to apologize. I knew we both knew this is what must be done, and I knew we were going to eventually do it - but that doesn’t make it any easier for you. You didn’t want this with me, and I know that.”

Why did that last statement sound a false note in your heart? You ignored it in favor of speaking out. “But I’ve spent the past week shirking my duty. You had to force me back in line.”

“And that is my responsibility as King, my sorceress. No harm done.” You could tell that he was leaning down closer to you, his voice loud and clear in your ear. “And remember - neither this kingdom nor I will ever forget this sacrifice.”

There was an oddly charged moment of silence after that statement - which was abruptly broken by the sensation of the ground suddenly falling away from under you. You gasped as surprisingly sturdy arms lifted you up until you were cradled against a lean, hard chest. “Seungmo!” You squeaked, the childhood nickname slipping past your lips. “S-since when were you strong enough to do this?”

There was a pause - you were positive that Seungmin had rolled his eyes at you. “Just because I don’t have bulging biceps like that bodyguard of yours doesn’t mean that I’m a weakling, witch.” 

“Well, it won’t be good to kick things off with you tripping over your feet carrying me in,” you muttered sulkily. 

You couldn’t hold back a shiver as Seungmin tsked, his warm breath ghosting across the sensitive shell of your ear. “Such disrespect for your king? Bold, given that you’re at my mercy for the next hour.” 

“Next hour? That ego of yours is still clearly giant.”

Seungmin let out a husky laugh. “It’s not the size of my ego you should be worried about right now, sweet.” You thumped a useless fist against his chest - even as your core involuntarily clenched and slickened.

There was a ear-ringingly loud blast of trumpets, followed by the creak of the gates to the ancient hall being pushed open. The murmurs and chatter of the crowd awaiting your arrival fell silent, an almost eerie hush settling in as Seungmin strode into the hall. Even with the enormous fire spluttering away in the ancient hearth, the room was always chilly; gooseflesh pimpled your arms, and you almost automatically burrowed closer into Seungmin’s neck for warmth - at least, that’s what you told yourself. The sharp raps of Seungmin’s footsteps against the flagstones came to a halt, and you were securely sat onto a hard surface - the High Table. Your sacrificial altar, you mused to yourself cynically. 

You jumped a little as you felt gentle fingers clasp your hands, giving you a firm squeeze. Those warm fingertips then ghosted across your cheeks, twining through your hair as they searched for the knot of your blindfold. Your heart was bounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as Seungmin leaned into you, that familiar, titilatingly musky scent of his flooding your senses as he worked to unravel the tight knot, until the blindfold finally came free. 

You blinked your eyes open to mellow, golden light - and the sight of Seungmin standing over you, watching you carefully with a small, soft smile. The great hall was awash with candlelight, long tapering candles and sticks of smoking perfume burning all around you, throwing the faces of the crowd of onlookers beyond you into shadow - but bathing Seungmin in glorious, warm light. He looked impeccably regal as he stood above you in his smart black leather doublet and swan white shirtsleeves, his royal purple ermine-edged cloak clasped around his throat. His hair was up, brushed off his forehead, and the gold of his royal circlet shone out bright against the ink black of his hair - but the brightest of all were his eyes, warm and deep brown, steady and clear as he - your King, you truly felt down to your bones for the first time - held your gaze. 

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself fall back, the ancient stone of the table icy against your spine. While you couldn’t see any of the spectators surrounding you and Seungmin - the vaulted ceiling of the great hall the only thing in your line of sight - it felt like you could sense their gaze prickling across your skin, weighing you down. But before you could let your mind wander too far, Seungmin was there, leaning over you with those broad, square shoulders, blocking your sight of anything but him. You felt your cheeks flame as his hand came up to cup your face, and  your heart skipped a beat as he pressed a petal soft kiss to your forehead, breathily whispering into your skin. “It will be good, my sweet. Trust me.”

Maybe Chaeryeong was onto something… You searched his eyes, finding so much affection and reassurance beaming back at you that you blinked your own shut - before giving him a brief nod. 

He let his lips drag over to your temple, then down to your cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake as his lips trailed lower and lower, down your jawline, down your neck - and lower. Your mind reeled, your hands fisting the flimsy material of your gown. This was supposed to be brief and impersonal - you’d even readied a lubrication charm in preparation for the inevitable. But you should have known that Seungmin wouldn’t just do an adequate job like that. You were fighting for your life to stay silent as he added his teeth into the mix, working the thin, sensitive skin of your throat until you felt the sickly sweet pain of a bruise forming. His hand slid down from your cheek so he could softly thumb at the mark - his mark - marring your skin, and when he pressed down just right on the bruise, you whimpered - and watched as his eyes darkened to black. 

From there, he was insatiable. Your hands flew up to his shoulders at the swipe of his tongue against your hardening nipple; they desperately slid to clutch at his hair when he took it whole into his mouth, the wet heat tantalizing even through the cotton of your chemise. He palmed your neglected breast hard, the soft flesh spilling through his fingers. A whine finally tore itself free from your throat, and Seungmin snapped his head up to look at you, lips twisting into a triumphant smirk. “I thought you weren’t going to enjoy this, Lady Sorceress.” His fingers came up to tweak your nipple - hard - as he mouthed carelessly at your other breast, his eyes watching you hungrily as you writhed under his touch. The pleasure carried you away on a hazy cloud of lust, into the dreamland of dangerous possibilities. What would it feel like to have this dumb chemise out of the way, so his fingers and lips could traipse your naked skin? What would it feel like to have the heat of his bare skin pressed up against yours - the weight and friction of his hard chest crushing into your sensitive breasts?

Your attention was yanked back into the land of the living at sudden, discordant noise: gasps and murmurs, you quickly realized, rippling through your audience - for your King was dropping to a knee at your feet, hands sliding with promise up your legs under your chemise. You shot up onto your elbows, staring down at him in horror. “Your Majesty,” you hissed. “This is wanton.”

Seungmin arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather be wanton than have you in pain at my hands.” You felt a traitorous flutter in your chest. “And most importantly - when you have the kingdom’s most powerful woman laid out in front of you... you worship her.” 

Those large, long-fingered hands of his found purchase in the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing them spread and keeping them spread with that hidden strength of his. He let out a small groan at the sight of your swollen folds, dragging a single, deliberate fingertip down the length of your slit. At the very first touch of his soft lips to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you choked out a moan - and startled as the candles around you all simultaneously popped. From between your legs, Seungmin laughed darkly. “Looks like I won’t need to ask you whether I’ve done a good job,” he said, the sensation of his breath and lips against your core making you squirm with stimulation. His hands slid up to your hips, anchoring you in place as he lapped languidly at your cunt, tongue flicking in and out of your aching entrance, nose rubbing up against your swollen little pearl. 

There was no chance in hell you could stay quiet any more. As a moaning keen spilled forth from your lips, your eyes flicked up to the shadowy figures in the crowd watching you. You’d thought they would be judgmental - critical, gossipy, as people always were in situations like this. Instead… there wasn’t a face you could make out that wasn’t flushed, expression glazed over. Seungmin slid his arms under your legs, yanking you down the table until the base of your spine rested on the very edge of the table, your core putty under his mouth as he supported your weight - and you watched as some woman in the crowd whimpered, biting her lip in response. 

Your head lolled back onto the table, and you started shuddering in Seungmin’s hands. 

“I guess I was wrong about needing an hour.” With a final kiss to your folds, Seungmin rose to his feet, leisurely wiping his mouth on the back of one hand, the other drifting down to the laces of his trousers. “I didn’t anticipate just how thoroughly you would enjoy my attentions, my witch.” Tease. His eyes danced with mirth as you whined in annoyance. You felt the blunt tip of him dragging through your folds, its weight catching deliciously against the tight ring of your entrance. “I’ll start slow,” he murmured, a hand coming up to brace himself above your head. And from the first breach of his length into your walls, you knew you were in trouble. 

“Big,” you gasped out. Seungmin let his free hand run loose over the flesh of your thighs and hips, kneading and caressing and soothing. “Relax for me, sweet - it’ll be easier if you let me in.” His voice was breathy and soft, eyes so warm - daresay loving - as he leaned in over you, covering your body with his. You gave him a small nod, breathing deeply and doing your best to let your body sink into the stone under you. As he carefully, firmly worked the rest of his length into your tight cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the deep, deep stretch of him, your spine arching off the table as your body contorted to accommodate him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pupils dilated with lust. “Made to take me.” 

And as the sting and discomfort started to morph into the burning, insatiable stretch of pleasure, you were inclined to agree with him. 

“Let me know when I can move, sweet,” he asked, the flat of his hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower belly. “Please,” you rasped out - and the delightedly vicious grin that curled his lips in response only sent another surge of fire through you. Your limbs ached to twine around him, pulling him down into you, imprisoning him between your legs - but you were determined to maintain some public decorum. Seungmin made the decision for you though, salaciously bold as ever as he leaned forward into you, splaying your legs out wide, knees almost to your chest. He tested the waters with a rapid snap of his hips in and out - and the two of you stared at each other with wide eyes at just how deep it all felt in this position. Seungmin’s hips started rocking back and forth, almost as if on their own volition - almost as if they were enchanted - and your hands desperately scrabbled for purchase on the unyielding stone as he started pounding into you. 

Your hips canted up into his, trying to answer his thrusts with your own. And you were clearly doing something right, judging by his drawn out groans. “Mine,” he moaned. As he bore down on you, every thrust ground delicious friction into your bundle of nerves - and Seungmin’s hips were driving into yours at such a punishing pace that you were overwhelmed by stimulation. You were sure the two of you were making an absolute mess, the squelching sounds of him pumping into you only growing louder with every thrust. Just with his lips and nose and tongue, the friction and sensation and pleasure had all already brought you close to the cliff of your peak. You knew it wasn’t going to be much longer now before he dragged you over - but there was something positively strange happening to you. Your pleasure was merely riding the edge of some deeper, powerfully visceral sensation that had you gasping, shivering with every plunging stroke. But Seungmin, your ever-wise, your ever-aware Seungmin, had cottoned onto what was happening to you - and wrapping you tightly up into his arms, he only picked up the pace of his hips. “Let go, sweet,” he eked out. “I’ve got you safe, here - let go, my queen.” And before your mind could even process what he’d just given away, you felt yourself clenching up, eyes squeezing shut and nerves singing in pleasure as you hit your release - the pain of your fingers digging into the broad expanse of his back, the spasms of your tight cunt triggering Seungmin’s release simultaneously, spurts of his hot, thick seed flooding into your core, serving as a balm for your aching walls as he collapsed into your waiting arms. 

Before you could let the waves of pleasure carry away your mind with it, however - your eyes shot open at the gasps and shouts coming from around you. Gold - that was all you could see - a golden bubble encasing you and your King. Seungmin lifted his head up from where it was pillowed on your chest, a look of pure wonder on his face as the two of you watched the bubble slowly float and collapse inwards, coalescing into a glowing yellow orb hovering above all of your heads. The hazy whorls of incense and candle smoke in the air took on a bright golden hue - before it all whooshed outwards in a rapid gust of wind, rattling the windows of the hall as the orb and its golden mist exploded out into the sky . You recognized the magic for what it was - the largest, purest barrier charm you’d ever witnessed. 

You and Seungmin had pulled it off. A giggle of delight squeezed out of your chest, and you let your gaze snap back down to the man resting on his elbows over you. Seungmin was watching you with a small, mysterious smile, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath. And as you looked back at him… you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, as powerful as if the ground had literally shifted under your feet. An almost unbearable fondness filled your heart as you beheld him - your King, your protector…your lover. 

You had been right about one thing - there would be no going back from this, at least for you. But now you found yourself wondering… why was that such a bad thing?

Ignoring the shuffling footsteps around you as your audience slowly started to disperse, you let your arms wrap around Seungmin, relishing the feeling of his muscles bunching under your touch as he slid his arms in turn around you, helping you to sit upright. His dark eyes were fixed on the place the two of you were joined as he slowly extricated himself from you, the feeling of his sticky seed trickling out from between your legs strange and foreign. That ever intelligent, searching gaze then slowly scanned your body, looking you over head to toe as he tucked himself away in his trousers, before his eyes fluttered shut. Seungmin let out a slow exhale before blinking his eyes open again - and you were startled to see that professional mask of his slide back into place. 

“Up you go,” he murmured, arm sliding around your back as he helped you off the table, supporting you as your legs quailed under your weight. With a few deft pulls, he unfastened his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead. You were thankful for the warmth it provided - and the coverage, you realized, as you noticed the servants hovering at a respectful distance from the two of you. “Give me a second,” Seungmin said before turning away to address his valet and knight-at-arms. 

One of the maids stepped forward, a fan in her hand to put out the few lingering candles. Before you could even hesitate on what to do, she dipped into a low curtsy, bowing her head - to you. “Your Highness,” she breathed out, an almost reverent look on her face as she glanced back up at you. Awkward with the unfamiliar courtesy, you smiled hesitantly, tilting your head at her in acknowledgement. 

How had you misjudged this situation so badly? Part of your hesitation leading up to all of this had been because you’d thought that you’d be made out to be a slag - no better than the King’s kept woman. Why hadn’t you appreciated the power inherent in this? With the spectacular care with which he’d pleasured you, with the demonstration of your magic in front of the whole court, Seungmin had marked you - just as he’d told you with those hungry eyes - out to be the most powerful woman in the kingdom. 

You snapped out of your thoughts to see Seungmin making his way back to stand in front of you. You frowned to see that mask of his still in place, a strange awkwardness in his manner as he addressed you. “I can help you back to your rooms now. Or,” he turned to gesture behind him, “one of the servants can take you if you prefer.”

You arched a critical eyebrow at him. “Could we go to your chambers instead?”

His eyes widened for a second, before you watched understanding wash over his face. “Ah yes, that was careless of me - there’s too many stairs to get back to your chambers. You can rest in mine as long as you need.”

Wrapping an arm loosely around you, he let you lean on him as the two of you walked out of the hall. His rooms weren’t too far away, the royal chambers taking up a significant portion of the ancient wing of the castle. But an awkward silence reigned over the two of you, Seungmin stoically looking straight ahead as you limped along beside him. 

Something had clearly changed in you - because for once, instead of being the reactive fool you normally were, you saw the situation - and his reaction - for what it actually was. Seungmin was taking his turn to be the awkward overthinker - a role he’d grown out of once he’d become King… except when it came to a few specific things he couldn’t stay purely rational about. The things he cared about the most, the things that mattered most deeply… in this case - you. 

You sighed. You’d probably need to gift Chaeryeong a necklace or something after all of this was over. 

You bided your time until Seungmin finally shut the two of you into his chambers. He’d turned away to lock the doors behind him - and startled when he turned back around to find you standing right in front of him. As you stared up at him, watching his lips twitch in discomfort… you came to a shocking realization. 

“You never kissed me,” you breathed out, even more surprised as you said it. He’d kissed you literally everywhere else - but he hadn’t touched your lips. You gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Why?”

Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. “It felt too…intimate.”

What? “You took my virginity - in public. We unleashed a magical force field together,” you deadpanned, trying to get a laugh out of him - and failing, as Seungmin continued to look at you stoically. “I’d say that’s pretty intimate, my lord.”

He shrugged, hugging his arms around him and hesitating for a second - before bluntly, in Seungmin fashion, getting to the heart of the matter. “The reality is that… freely given sacrifice, prophecy, whatever you want to call it - I took something from you that you didn’t mean for me to have.” It was a testament to Seungmin’s poise that his voice stayed even, his eyes stayed steadily on you as he spoke. “I wanted you to have something - a part of you - you could still give away of your own will.” He sagged heavily into the doorframe, finally breaking eye contact as he trailed off. 

Poor baby. Your heart fluttered. “That is… quite thoughtful of you, my lord,” you choked out, taking a small step forward. Then another. And another, inching towards him. “So - that means it’s alright with you for me to do this, right?” Reaching up, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up onto your tiptoes to press your body into his. His hands reflexively grabbed your waist, steadying you even as his eyes widened in surprise - before fluttering shut as you pressed your lips to his. 

His mouth was divine heat - soft, pliable against yours. He gasped as you nipped at his lower lip, and you seized the chance to lick into his mouth, deepening the kiss until your head was whirling, ignorant of where you ended and he began. 

When you finally pulled away for air, his lips chased yours for a second before he caught himself. You giggled, beaming up at him. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?”

Seungmin let out a low warm laugh, such fondness in his eyes that you couldn’t help but shy away. “I have much, much lower to fall still, don’t worry,” he murmured as he bent down over you, his hair falling into his eyes as he smiled. In a single, smooth movement, he flipped the two of you around so he had you pinned up against the wall, his body pressed firmly into yours. 

You cleared your throat. “Y-you really like having me against hard surfaces, don’t you?”

He shrugged, focus elsewhere as his fingers busied themselves with the laces of your chemise. “Seems like it’s the only way to keep you good for me, witch mine.” You whined as his hand accidentally grazed your sore, tender nipple, the sound making his eyes snap back to yours. A dark, wicked smile curled his lips before he crashed his mouth back onto yours, long fingers working your breast deliberately, possessively. You responded with enthusiasm, tangling your own fingers into his silky hair, until the spell was broken - for you at least - by loud noises from outside his chambers. 

You pulled away from his lips with a loud smack. “What’s that?”

“Never mind that,” he rasped out, pulling you in tight against him. “Worry about it later.” Your breath hitched as he nosed his way into your neck, pulling at the loosened neck of your chemise to expose your collarbone for him to feast on. 

Steeling yourself, you pushed your hands firmly against his chest. “Seungmo, I want to worry about it now.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, but let you go without a fight, releasing you from his embrace. Turning on your heel, you tugged him along to his balcony. The sounds had seemed to come from the royal gardens, which were sprawled right below Seungmin’s chambers. Pulling your cloak - his cloak - more tightly around you, you stepped out onto the balcony - and froze, as an astounding sight brought the two of you to a standstill. 

Wherever you looked - below you, around you - every single plant and tree was in abundant bloom. Regardless of season, of age - fruit and flowers were everywhere, swinging in the breeze, littering the ground. You turned to Seungmin in shock - only to see him looking back at you with loving, wondrous awe. “That’s all you,” he murmured, brushing a fond hand against your cheek. “My powerful, mesmerizing sorceress.”

You flushed. “No, it’s not.” You stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s us.” You tiptoed up to press a kiss into his cheek - and promptly hid into Seungmin’s neck as whoops and cheers rang up to you from the gardens below. 

Seungmin laughed, tucking you into his side as he led the two of you back inside. “Well, you know what this means,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Shooting a dazzling smile your way, he caught you up in his arms once again, the heady sensation already warm and familiar to you - before peremptorily throwing you onto his bed. 

“The fate of the flora of this kingdom is in our hands, Lady Sorceress.” He intoned in a faux serious voice - made only the more ridiculous by the sight of him crawling on all fours towards you on the bed. “We have crucial work to do, milady - and we must start posthaste.”

You threw your head back in laughter before wrapping your limbs around him. “Yes, my lord - let’s start immediately.” 

Fin.

~

[If you made it all the way here... please comment, reblog and give me feedback!! My Ko-Fi is also linked in my blog if you're able to support :)]

[milksuu]

pairing: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tw: mild suggestive themes, minor injury, age gap (in the mythical sense)

notes: don't know why but i wanted to try something original? if i make a part 2, def. will be nsfw. (oh and, i know sirens are usually part bird rather than fish, but we're going with the fish lol.)

Yandere!Siren who lures you by ethereal hymn from the safety of the beach sand, smirking when all those pretty little sea shells drop to your feet once you hear his voice. your hands reach for him, and his scales glitter in the dusk light as they take yours---so cold yet inviting. the biting waters tickling your skin with goosebumps. your enchanted giggles a beautiful song before a feast.

Yandere!Siren who guides your spellbound body below the shimmering waves, into a blue stasis where only you and him exist. he takes your cheeks, warm against the ice of his hands, bringing his mouth to yours with every intent to feast on your body. your lashes curl closed, and bubbles rest like pearls against your lashes, completely at bliss listening to his death song.

Yandere!Siren who stops before he grazes the heat of your lips. behind the drowning fractals of sunlight weaving through his eyes, an overlapping memory crashes against him. this wasn't the first time he's met you; you were a mere child then, and had found him during one of your silly human adventures. you'd freed him from an entrapment of netting and barb. but dared to insult him by calling him a 'pretty lobster', all while waving him off with a wooden-toy sword—a promised threat, no doubt. if it weren't for the fact you had saved him from poachers, he would've eaten you just for comparing him to those lower-living crusted things.

Yandere!Siren who curses and clicks at himself, for having even a shred of reluctance to devour your kind. he reasons a life for a life is a fair debt to pay, regardless of vitriol, and would pay it by sparing yours. he floats your listless body to the surface, and weaves you through the lapping waves back to shore.

Yandere!Siren who hesitates to dive back into the waters. not able to discern the rise and falls of your chest. he wonders if he'd held you beneath for far too long. long enough for sea water to be kept prisoner in your lungs. he drags himself to your side on the sand, hovering intimately above you. he presses his long fingers into your chest, finding your heart beat; soft but present. and although shallow, he observes the rise and fall of your chest. he wouldn't dare acknowledge the small sigh of relief in his throat.

Yandere!Siren who's gaze then roams your sun kissed skin and nipples melting through your soaked linen dress. but doesn't know why heat flushes through his tail, his heart throb at his fingertips, and scales shimmer a dusty pink. the drops falling from his hair pitter-patter on your lips, stirring you awake. he inhales sharply when you share a glance. your face and lips gilded by the afternoon glow.

"Pretty lobster..." you whisper dreamily, eyes still swimming on the lingering notes of his melody.

Yandere!Siren who half-flustered and half-scorned, wants to surrender to the reflex of plunging his sharp teeth into the suppleness of your throat. to mark you for this moment of not only sparing your life, but then having the gall to insult him—again. before he can commit to the idea, he hears the clanking of metal and footfalls of sentrymen descending the beach cliffs.

"Princess!" The soldier's call out. "Princess please, by orders of the King, return at once."

Yandere!Siren who hisses and nips at your hand in compromise to his deadlier wishes for you. He then thrusts himself back into the frigid waters, swimming a safe distance away from shore. when he deems himself veiled behind a jagged rock, he leans to watch, damning himself for certain curiosities. he watches with narrowed lashes as the guards help you to your feet. some patting the sand from your dress, one draping a shawl over your drenched form, and another bandaging your bitten hand.

Yandere!Siren who stiffens when you turn a head over your shoulder, and just like before, wave at him with a smile. that indignant human grin of yours, possibly cursing him with joy. he simmers at the thought, his face warm again, and slowly sinks himself below the surface tension. and to his own annoyance, wondering when you would come to bother him again.

[thatbennybee]

ChordStriker!AU Q&A

I'm doing a bit of a Q&A about my ChordStriker!AU on insta after sharing this teaser WIP, so I figured I'd present some of the questions here! (Feel free to ask more btw!)

↓↓↓

Rock!Poppy

Q: "Is Poppy's family (Peppy & Viva) still with her since the Bergens didn't attack them?"

A: Peppy is with her, but he is confused/in mental decline like canon King Thrash was. Viva is missing. Poppy was old enough to remember her.

Q: "Will Viva play somewhat of a role in this AU?"

A: Yes, she's had a much bigger impact on Poppy's life, even till this day even though she's been missing for many years now. Poppy has never stopped looking for her.

Q: "Is King Peppy still a liar in your AU?"

A: Nah, he's normal. Sometimes hating him with my entire being is hard, so he gets to be a good dad this time. He's just not all there mentally so Poppy is more like his caretaker now.

Q: "Poppy's relationships don't last long because she gets bored... So how long is Branch going to last?"

A: The Rat Pack (Snack Pack) is wondering the same thing, but Poppy's never used the bf/gf/partner labels before meeting him which is strange... 👀

Q: "Does Poppy still party?"

A: She's a total party animal! Her parties are even more intense than a Pop Troll party since Rock Trolls are pretty extreme. LOL

---

Pop!Barb (Barbie)

Q: "What does Barb look like?"

A: For now, this is her design, it might change once I have time to draw her digitally.

Q: "Does this mean Barb has to go through the events of Trolls 1?"

A: Nope, Barb never befriends Bridget because they have never met. They have found a way to remain undetected in the forest. (Thanks to Branch’s constant nagging about safety)

Q: "How does Barb's gang look? Is there any significant differences in their dynamics?"

A: I haven't had time to finish them all, but here's some of them for now. There's more members of The Lunch Rush, but this is all I have for now!

Val Thundershock → Valentina Wondershock.

Only Queen Barbie calls her Val. She is very optimistic & loves to sing & dance! She's Barbie’s right-hand troll, BFFL & knows everything about her. They have a very... "close" relationship. ;] She's a popstar who's managed by Demo and loves to help make Pop Village a happier place.

Riff

He's a university student studying to be an engineer. He's very soft spoken, doesn't like to make a fuss and is probably the nicest guy around. He's quite close to Barbie and sees her as an older sister. He's actually on friendly terms with Branch. His favorite treat is lollipops. 🍭

Carol

But you can call her Carrie! Everyone does. She's a bit of a diva, loves to look good & dull things bore her. She will ignore anything that doesn't catch her eye, even trolls. Best to be looking your very best!

Sid Fret

Just call him Sid, no need to be so formal. He is every trolls dream guy and he knows it! He's a great roller derby racer and loves the attention trolls give him. Sure, he's a little self-absorbed, but he's a very loyal friend.

Demo

Not much has changed about Demo. He's perfect as he is <3 He's just a little more excitable & cutesy than before. He cares about Valentina a lot & they are very close friends.

Petra

She is the blueprint, she's the moment, she's everything. A model, actress, singer, you name it, she can do it. She's perfect... Who doesn't want to be her?

---

Branch

Q: "How different is Branch in this AU vs canon Branch?"

A: He is the same Branch essentially, just without the development he gains at the end of Trolls 1 & so-on. None of it occurred, so he is still grey, miserable & a recluse. He helped Barb to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe after nagging & warning her for ages, but after that, he returned to his bunker & is still not well-liked by the village.

Q: "Does she know Branch's whole past? If she does, what was her reaction?"

A: Not sure if you meant Barb or Poppy, so I'll answer for both. Barb—no. I don't think she'd ever find out, and she's also not the type to ask. Their personalities clash a bit too much, she stays out of his way like he asks her to.

For Poppy—I think it would come up naturally in conversation after a while when Branch feels more comfortable sharing. Poppy isn't the type to pry, but makes it clear that it's out of understanding, not a lack of caring. She can tell that he is closed off for a reason. She relates to that. I think she'd be beyond pissed once he told her, though.

Q: "Will Branch's brothers be in this?"

A: Yes, but Floyd will be getting the bigger role this time.

Q: "How quickly does Branch fall for Poppy? I'm sure the answer is yes, but is he happy?"

A: I'd say he's quite guarded in the beginning. He is cautious around her for the first few weeks, but he starts to come around once he picks up on Poppy being emotionally guarded herself.

Things move quickly once their walls come down around each other, & a mutual understanding is there. Poppy fell for him first. (At least, that's what Branch lets her believe, as it was love at first sight for him, but he'd never tell her that; she'd get a big head about it.)

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

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[ladykailitha]

I have decided today I am giving out my Steve Harrington headcanons, because I love him so much.

His parents are very rich. His dad is new money, self made. His mom is old money.

His father is Indiana born and bred, but his mother is from Kentucky. She doesn't have her accent anymore because she trained herself out of it. Though it does show up when she's drunk or angry.

I know everyone does Richard (Dick) for his dad mainly for the lols, which I respect, but I think his name is Clint. It's just rich dude bro enough, you know? And then for the mom I go back and forth between Maureen and Allison. Allison because that's Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club and I often use her looks as bases for Mrs. Harrington.

They were never meant to be parents. They had the one because that's what was expected of them, but no. They don't like kids.

I don't know if his dad is only verbally abusive, but he is some kind of shit. Steve was so scared of him finding out that there was alcohol the night Barb vanished that that was all that consumed his thoughts. And even in season 3 Steve tells Dustin (thinking he was his dad) that he doesn't do drugs, just marijuana. Meaning that's something they've fought about a lot.

Kids of good parents rarely smoke, drink, smoke pot, and have wild parties all the time as an under-aged teenager. There are no doubt exceptions, but most of the time it's kids who are neglected and abused that are the ones that act out like that.

Steve had nannies and baby-sitters growing up that he saw more than his parents. But he would still be taken on actual vacations with them. Mostly to show off that they do have a son.

He was in baseball in middle school but quit when he got into high school. His parents put him in as many after school activities as they could. He was taught piano. Went to swimming and was so good at it, he joined the team in high school. Played basketball throughout both middle and high school. But he was forced to dropout due to the concussion Billy gave him his senior year. It's why he sneers at Brenda at the game when she says it would ironic if they won the championship the year after he graduated. Because he wasn't even on the team his last year.

When he turned sixteen they gave him his BMW. No, he did not get to pick the car or the color, but he takes very good care of it. Does a lot of the maintenance himself. One of the few things his dad taught him, but because you needed to know enough to make sure your mechanic wasn't ripping you off.

He can cook. But only if he has a recipe to follow and will get upset if it doesn't look like the picture. Is a consummate baker though. Because everything has a reason it's done like that and it makes sense.

Definitely a fall baby. That's why he was able to lifeguard for three years even if he didn't lifeguard after his senior year due to him working at Scoops Ahoy.

He's bad at math and science which is why the Party teases him all the time, but he's great at English and history.

Only applied at the schools his dad thought were "appropriate" and didn't get in. But to be fair, he was still suffering from a concussion when those applications went out and he wasn't really at his best. Just above his worst if he was honest.

He likes his preppy clothes and while he laughs it off, it upsets him when he's made fun for it.

Alt rock fan all the way. Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order.

Has a list of the Party's likes and dislikes for food and other things, so he is the best gift giver. He doesn't spend a lot of money, though he has been accused of that a couple of times. But he prefers well thought out gifts over expensive ones. It's why Max, Eddie, and the Byers boys love Steve gifts. They never feel pressured to one up him.

Complete romantic. Loves being in love, but it was hard to pick up the pieces of his broken heart after what happened with Nancy.

Loves Robin, but even though it is sometimes weird, it never veers into creepy or obsessive. Robin is absolutely the vodka aunt of the party to Steve's mom.

When Eddie comes into the group, they tease him that's he's the dad to Steve's mom. Because as goofy as Eddie is he absolutely wouldn't let the kids get into real trouble.

Steve the romantic gets absolutely wooed by Eddie and never is made to feel wrong footed when showers Eddie with the affection he would for a girl. It's nice for a guy to receive flowers sometimes too.

Steve favorite flower is sunflowers. But his favorite color is blue.

He absolutely keeps the vest. Refuses to give it back. Which Eddie is surprisingly okay with.

I could go on forever, but I'll stop there for now and if I come up with more I'll add them later.

[tezzbot]

Does Barb continue to become Clay and Viva's roommate (after resolving her tensions with Clay) or does she move out some time after? Also is she in college or something

YES after the argument she is about to move out and ?? find somewhere else to live?? She doesn't really have a plan but she knows she's not welcome here and she wouldn't wanna be here anyway with that jagweed Clay ruining everything, but then Clay apologises and they talk things over, things get resolved and she continues living there until whatever it is she needs to happen happens lol, maybe season 2 she starts job hopping to help a little with rent and food costs lmao different job every episode KGHFH

And uhhh Technically? Branch, Poppy, Bridget, Gristle and whoever else in that age range all go to the same college / university it's where most of them meet for the first time, Poppy meets and befriends Barb there, but eventually Barb drops out to pursue a music career and head to The Big City to help her get somewhere, this is where Poppy steps in and sets her up with digs in her sisters apartment, not assuming that Barb would leech for as long as she was able lmao

Double Date Updates (shout out to @creta291 for the Bridget and Gristle troll design inspo hehee)

[l393ndjean]

What I Need in St5 (That isn't ship related)

I need Will to save El from something. I need Will to not be a damsel in distress and El to not be a superhero. Not for the whole season or anything, but like, he saves her from a demogorgon by thinking outside the box. Will isn't violent and subverting their current roles by making him violent doesn't sit right with me. This would prove that yes, Will does care for El, and vice versa, which some people are still skeptical about fsr.

More of Robin and Nancy being best friends. And, address Nancy's trauma of losing Barb and how that affects her friendship with Robin. I want to see Nancy being protective of Robin, never wanting to let her out of her sight. And I need Robin to remind her that hey, despite it all, they're still young. They're teenagers. I need Robin to remind Nancy that she can still have fun, and that it's not her fault that Barb died. (Also I need them to solve the mystery together, their detective dynamic is so great.)

I need Vickie to befriend Jonathan. I need to know more about her as a person, not just as Robin's crush. If Argyle's not gonna be around this season I need Jonathan to have a friend, who he isn't linked to in a weird way (Steve is his girlfriend's ex and his ex bully and as much as I wanna see them interact and form a friendship, I also need him to befriend Vickie.) Jonathan's character development into making friends with her could also be quite interesting. He's never really interacted with anyone his age other than Nancy. (I love his dynamic with Argyle, but I also really need to see him with a... less high person.)

The party interacting, as a whole. Combining their knowledge to solve problems, arguing over stupid shit and getting to be teenagers for once. I need my nerdy little boys to be together for once, they're always separated. When they're together they're unstoppable.

El interacting with Lucas! Oh my gods, since season one we've scarcely seen them in the same room! I need to see them bonding over their grief, and working together on where Max's consciousness is. I need them to bond over high school and feeling like they have to be someone else to fit in. (We're getting this for sure, but I need this more than oxygen.)

I need Mike to be leading THE PLAN! When Mike leads the plan, they win. S1, they saved Will, S2 they saved Will and closed the gate. Both times Mike was heavily involved in forming the plan. In S3 Mike's Sauna Test worked, it confirmed that Billy was flayed. And his physics moment. But in S4? They lost. Why? Because Mike wasn't involved in the plan!

I have way more but that's enough for one night, lol.

[hey-hey-j]

... sorry to bother again but I just REALLY wanna know what's your FAVORITE HC of each brozone bros? Especially JD 👀

oooofgh a FAVOURITE headcanon for each bro...... there's so many but if I really narrow it down:

JD: that he's actually extremely nearsighted but he resists getting glasses for the longest time because they make him look old and he haaaaaates acknowledging his actual age, lol. Back during the BroZone days Bruce would often catch him leaning in super close to his desk squinting when writing songs and tell him seriously bro you NEED to get your eyes checked before you destroy your back.

Years later Clay finally convinces him to see an optometrist and it's actually a genuine bonding experience for the both of them

Bruce: constantly fighting against the troll instinct to carry his kids in his hair because they physically Do Not Fit in there. He can still carry them with his hair (usually for game purposes), just not in it. It frustrates him, but after 13 of these little gremlins he's found some workarounds.

semi-related: I like to think the first few kids came about from however vacationers reproduce so the first time they had an egg it caught Bruce and Brandy completely off guard and Bruce had to dazedly explain to her where troll babies come from. And then he had to explain it to the kids and follow it up with a stern lecture on how for the love of god do NOT toss the egg around it is NOT A TOY—

Clay: went through a jealous phase when Floyd was first born. He did not like having his status as the baby of the family usurped, lol. Literally his first reaction upon being introduced to Floyd for the first time was "No thank you." The image of teeny baby Floyd toddling after Clay while Clay tries his darndest to act like the aloof, disinterested older brother. Or as aloof and disinterested as a little kid can get.

He warmed up to Floyd after a bit, though. Probably little Floyd fell asleep in his lap one night and Clay was suddenly overcome with the realization of oh I never want to let anything bad happen to this kid. And from that day on he tried his darndest to be the best big brother he could be. Like JD.

Floyd: cut his solo career short because he realized that the celebrity life wasn't making him happy anymore. So he traveled around for a few years, bumped into the other troll kingdoms and tried out their music, and eventually rediscovered his passion through smaller gigs and busking. Floyd was essentially homeless for all of those 20 years, but it was the happiest he'd been since BroZone took off, going wherever the road took him and basking in the freedom of not being recognized and finally being able to pour all of himself into his music, unfiltered.

And then he made it to Mount Rageous.

Branch: post-World Tour and after the initial awkwardness of Barb's efforts to make amends, Branch finds that he actually gets along really well with the queen of Rock. She shows him how to channel all of his repressed anger into a couple of chords and a good SCREAM, and he in turn shows her some of the grounding techniques he's been working on as part of his recovery. They joke that they're only getting along for Poppy's sake, but after a while, they genuinely end up becoming really good friends.

what I'm saying is that I live for Branch and Barb as snarky besties with Poppy as their hinge I need it DESPERATELY

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 5: Kiss With A Fist/Human Nature

A/N:

Ya'll. Writing this chapter felt like a marathon. But I think I'm ultimately very happy with it. Please let me know what you think!

This chapter is a bit longer, and I think it deserved to be named after two songs because of that. "Kiss With A Fist" by Florence + The Machine definitely fits the first half of this chapter and was one of the first songs I added to my playlist when writing this story, so I knew I wanted to use it for the big public confrontation.

The vibes toward the end are different. I discovered this song earlier this week and haven't been able to stop listening to it, so maybe I'm just reaching to try and justify including it lol. But "Human Nature" by Barrie is what I decided to use for the second half of this. Cause they're spitting facts when they say "Human nature doesn't always come easy" lmfao.

This is far from the end of this story, but it may be a second before you hear from me, depending on how busy the next few weeks are. I say that - watch me turn around and post something this weekend lol.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far. I love you and I'm so grateful to know you're along for the ride.

---

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

---

Barbara Howard did not take days off. It was only recently that she allowed herself her first mental health day, and while she could see the benefits, she had been eager to get back to her classroom, her students, her best friend, and even her coworkers. The life of a teacher was unpredictable, and the life of a teacher at Abbott Elementary came with its own unique set of challenges, but Barbara had seen a lot in her decades of teaching. With some hard work, support from her fellow teachers, and the grace of God himself, she had seen and survived it all. Barbara Howard could conquer anything thrown her way.

However, if Barbara had the magical gift of foresight, she might have chosen Monday morning to take her second mental health day in her entire history at Abbott. 

As it was, Barbara could not see into the future, and so she entered the teacher’s lounge at 6:30 AM, on the dot. She claimed her usual spot, made herself a cup of coffee, and began sorting through her lesson plans for the week. She enjoyed her few moments of serenity in the lounge prior to the arrival of her more talkative coworkers. It wasn’t unusual for Melissa to arrive a bit later, especially on a Monday, so Barbara thought nothing of her absence. She politely greeted Janine and Jacob as they entered together; she did the same for Gregory shortly after. As the three younger teachers gathered at their table and discussed their weekends, Barbara continued her work, occasionally reacting to what she overheard. And when you entered the lounge, your first time visiting in the morning, Barbara was mildly surprised, but she shot you a warm smile all the same. She noticed you seemed to be a bit tense, but she chalked it up to the fact that you were still very new. 

Melissa had talked her ear off about you last Monday, of course, explaining your tardiness and the shots you’d taken at her about her age. When Barb pressed her for details about your confrontation and what you’d said to each other, she simply said, “I took care of business, a’right?” 

While Barbara agreed it was unprofessional of you to arrive late, she also knew Melissa better than anyone else in Abbott did; she knew Melissa could take things too far. Melissa was as passionate as they came, which meant she was one of the best teachers at the school. On the flip side, she also had a short fuse. Barbara knew she didn’t have all of the details, but she didn’t think much of it - you were a sub, after all. She expected she’d never actually meet you. 

So when you arrived in the lounge for lunch the day after your explosive argument, she was shocked. While skeptical of you, she couldn’t help but admire your tenacity. You’d come face to face with the wrath of Melissa Schemmenti and still returned to Abbott. You’d introduced yourself, and as far as Barbara could tell, you were perfectly polite and well mannered. The displeasure and hostility radiating off of Melissa was felt by everyone in the lounge, but aside from giving her close friend a pointed look, Barbara chose to ignore it. 

You’d continued showing up the rest of the week, greeting Barbara every day before taking a seat with Janine and Jacob, as well as Gregory, occasionally. The younger teachers seemed to have taken an instant liking to you, the four of you sharing stories from previous schools or discussing the latest movie releases. You’d even had a good-natured exchange with Ava one morning. The principal had leant against the corner with her phone and talked you through her “roster”, whatever that meant. Barbara was sure she didn’t want to know. 

Barbara observed how seamlessly you integrated into Abbott’s social circles - with the obvious exception of the red head who always sat to her right in the lounge. Melissa pretended you didn't exist, which would have been fine if it wasn’t the elephant in the room. Your first day in the lounge, Janine had tried to talk to Melissa about you. She’d turned to Melissa with a huge grin on her face and said, “Man, Melissa, you’re so lucky to have such an awesome sub as your aide.” 

Melissa had glanced at Janine over the rim of her cat-eye glasses, and in a sharp tone, retorted, “What sub?” That’s all it took for everyone in the room to grasp her unspoken message: If you value your life, drop it. The only reaction Barbara saw was a sharp flash of your eyes before you turned your back to the older woman and called Janine over, changing the subject. 

But last Friday, Melissa caught up with Barbara after the school day ended and explained that you’d just given her two VIP tickets to the Eagles game on Sunday. If there was anything that would help Melissa forgive your transgressions, it was that. Once again, Barbara found herself impressed with you - you took the initiative to make amends and you’d knocked it out of the park. She was happy for her friend. She’d told Melissa, “Just think of how much you’ll be able to accomplish now that you and that young woman can work together. Now, you and Gary go enjoy that ball game.” 

A week after your first morning at Abbott, all of the water was seemingly under the bridge, and the staff room could breathe easy again. No one paid much mind to the anxiety radiating off of you. For the most part, the energy in the room was calming as the day began. 

The sudden CRACK of the door slamming into the shelves violently ripped the room’s occupants out of their morning zen. It was enough to cause everyone to nearly jump out of their skin. Heads whipped in the direction of the doorway as Melissa’s furious form charged into the lounge. Her attention was initially on Barb, but as she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes locked on you. The blush of fury rose instantly in her cheeks. She ripped her bag off of her shoulder and tossed it in the direction of her regular table, nearly hitting Barbara in the process, and as her eyes narrowed, you could practically see the steam rolling off of her as she hissed out, “You.” 

And that’s when Barbara knew any chance of a peaceful morning had gone out the window.

—----------------------

As your weekend began, it didn’t take long for it to sink in that you were well and truly fucked. You completely failed to consider the consequences of your little scheme. There’s no way in hell Melissa wouldn’t be out for blood at the start of the next school week. The smartest thing to do would be to never return to Abbott, move to a new city across the country, and change your legal name. You went back and forth between chastising yourself for being ridiculous, and being so ridden with anxiety that you couldn’t eat. You felt so stupid - what did you think would happen? 

Ultimately, you reached a point where you couldn’t handle the crushing weight of what you’d done alone, so you’d spilled to Ava. Her response had been about the least reassuring thing she could have said.

You did WHAT? I didn’t know you were crazy like that! You’re gonna die girl. I’m not even joking. We gotta go out this weekend, cause it’s your last one alive. I’ll make sure you have fun tho. Do you own any latex?

After refusing Ava’s offers to make your last days on earth worthwhile, you spent most of the weekend drowning in anxiety and imagining how Melissa would bring about your demise. You decided you had to do your best to prepare. You literally couldn’t afford to not go back to Abbott, especially after getting your headlights repaired Saturday afternoon. Under the anxiety, you could feel the ember of your rage, still pulsing with a red-hot glow, so you decided to grasp ahold of it. What you’d done was shitty, sure. But compared to smashing headlights? All you’d done was get even.

Seeing as you couldn’t afford to uproot your whole life and leave Philadelphia, the next most logical thing to do was to never be caught alone in a room with Melissa ever again. You were pretty sure this was something you could pull off - you figured you had two weeks left at Abbott tops, and as long as you had kids or other teachers in the same room, you would have witnesses who could recount your violent death should Melissa murder you. 

This is what caused you to arrive at Abbott on Monday morning a full hour and a half before you needed to be there. You’d dithered in your car for about fifteen minutes, debating driving away and then talking yourself out of it. Eventually, you braved the outdoors, darting into the building and down the hallways as quickly as you could. You practically sprinted past Melissa’s classroom door - the lights were out, but even though you logically knew she wasn’t in yet, your mind conjured a vivid image of her jumping out of the shadows like a monster in waiting. You slowed down and tried to control your breathing as you entered the teacher’s lounge, and you were immediately soothed to see how many people were already there. Even better, Melissa was absent. 

As you passed Barbara, you gave her a hesitant smile. You actually liked Barbara, as much as you can like someone who’s polite and whom you don’t know very well. You figured it may be the last chance you get - surely the woman would turn against you once Melissa told her what you’d done. Janine, Jacob, and Gregory were all sitting at your usual table, and after preparing your morning coffee, you quickly situated yourself in a seat, thankfully facing the door to the lounge.

“Hey!” Janine said, shooting you her adorable, slightly gapped-toothed smile. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh… it was fine,” you said, your eyes darting toward the door as it opened. Not Melissa . “Mostly caught up on chores… had to get some work done to my car, fun stuff like that.”

“Car problems are tough,” Gregory said, spooning a bite out of his bowl of plain oatmeal. “What was wrong with it?”

“Uh…” you hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share what was really wrong. It would inevitably lead to questions and the last thing you wanted was for everyone to know the details of your feud. It was one thing for everyone to know Melissa didn’t like you - there were very few people Melissa actually liked in general. But it was another entirely for them to know she’d smashed out your headlights. Something generic - a bad alternator, maybe - would suffice.

You didn’t even get the chance to lie.

Despite the fact that you could see the doorway, the resounding SMACK of the door slamming open still made you jump. Before your brain knew what it was processing, in stormed Melissa Schemmenti, thick heels clacking on the linoleum tiles. She wore a form fitting pink sweater, the neckline questionably appropriate, and skin tight black pants. Her saint necklaces shimmered from their home on her collarbones. You supposed she wanted to look hot when she killed you.

It only took a moment for her eyes to lock on you, and in that moment you knew things were about to get ugly. To your surprise, seeing the flustered state she was in created a feeling of immense satisfaction. She was furious because your plan had worked. You didn’t even fight the smile that began to find its way onto your lips. The anxiety wasn’t gone, but you relished in the triumphant feeling of landing a critical hit. 

“ You,” she hisses, tossing her bag from her shoulder. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Your eyebrows shoot up, feigned ignorance in your voice as you point at yourself and respond, “Who, me?”

She starts toward you, and everyone else at your table scatters. You’re shocked to see Janine step in front of you, her hands up placatingly. “Melissa-”

“Shut it, pipsqueak, and get out of my way ,” she growls, her gaze over Janine’s head burning holes in you. 

“Hey!” You spit out, anger spiking and crowding out your anxiety. You’re suddenly standing. “Don’t call her that!”

Janine turns to you, holding a hand in your direction now too. “It’s fine, she calls me that all the time-” 

“It’s not fine!” You shout, fists balled. Your eyes are glued to Melissa’s. “You think you can say and do whatever you want because no one will stand up to you. Well, I’m not going to put up with it!” 

“Oh my god, please stop this. I will never psychologically recover from seeing your dead body,” Jacob pleads, wedged between the corner of the room and the fridge for cover. 

“Can’t believe I was dumb enough to trust ya,” Melissa growls. “And after all that bullshit about ‘olive branches' and bein’ cordial.”

You smirk. “Oh, right! How was the game?”

Melissa starts forward again and Janine has to physically hold her back. She’s shockingly effective in spite of her small stature. 

“Ya know I didn’t get into the game! Gary and I went all the way to the stadium, but you gave me fake tickets! We wasted our whole afternoon and got harassed by security!” she shouts. 

“So what are you gonna do about it? Beat me up? Call the cops on me?” you challenge.

A deeply offended look crosses Melissa’s face as her jaw drops. “Are you callin’ me a snitch?” she snarls. She surges against Janine one more time, who manages to keep her back again. “That’s low, even for you!” Melissa says nastily over Janine’s shoulder.

“Oh, that’s low?” You ask incredulously. “Low like smashing someone’s headlights out?” There’s an audible gasp from Jacob in the corner, and you feel the heat of everyone’s gaze turn from you to Melissa, the whole room enthralled by your verbal tennis match. 

Melissa glances around her before pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Ya can’t prove that was me!” You thought someone would have to have been born yesterday to believe that; anyone who worked at Abbott knew that’s exactly something Melissa would do. 

“Oh yeah, because everyone else here keeps a bat taped under their desk like a neurotic asshole!” you proclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“I’ll show you ya stronza- ” Melissa hisses, pushing past Janine and beginning to reach for you. Your arms come up to instinctively protect your face, but before she can reach you, a figure closer to your height blocks your vision.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Barbara Howard bellows. The whole room comes to a standstill, frozen in time. Even Melissa has been stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in shock as Barbara looks accusingly between the two of you. You feel immediately ashamed. “Are you both not grown adults? I cannot believe the absolute foolishness I’ve just witnessed!” She rounds on Melissa. “Especially from you!” 

“Barb, she-” Melissa starts. 

“I don’t care if she insulted your cooking to your face, you do not behave like catty teenagers! We are professional, grown people! Acting like this in front of your peers? Disgraceful! ”

She rounds on you, her eyes narrowing. “And you. To think that I was beginning to think highly of you. You went to all that trouble to make fake football tickets, just to get back at Melissa? Have you ever heard the phrase ‘An eye for an eye’ ?” 

The pit of shame in your stomach is sickening as you slowly lower your arms, your eyes unable to meet Barbara’s. Feeling like a petulant child, you couldn’t help but mutter, “She started it.”

“And now I’m ending it!” Barbara yells. You feel her grip the sleeve of your sweater and pull. You stumble after, seeing her grasp Melissa as well. “You are both coming with me!” The rest of the lounge doesn’t move a muscle as Barbara Howard physically drags you into the hallway. 

She marches with both of you in tow, Melissa sending you the nastiest glares she can muster from the other side of her friend. Stopping in front of a classroom full of bright colors and tiny chairs, Barbara turns to both of you. “This has gotten completely out of hand! You are both going to sit in my room and we are going to work through this. I don’t care if it takes all day - you will NOT be allowed out until you can act like civilized adults!” She folds her arms and gestures her head forward. You stare back for a moment, thinking she must be joking, but the woman doesn’t budge. After a moment longer, you enter the classroom. You’re followed closely by Melissa, who stalks to the other end of the room. 

Barbara closes her door and pulls down the window blind. She turns to you both, her eyes closed and her shoulders rising in deep, even breaths. Eventually, she opens her eyes, and commands, “Take a seat.”

You glance around and only see chairs for children. You begin to protest, but the look on Barbara’s face prompts you to simply grab the nearest chair and plant yourself in it. Your knees are comically close to your chest and you don’t know where to put your hands. You settle on resting them on top of your knees. Melissa is pacing back and forth, muttering to herself - you guess she gets to ignore Barbara’s request. 

“Now,” Barbara begins. “We are going to talk out your problems so we can put this whole mess behind us. Your students deserve you at your best, and you cannot be your best when you’re at each other’s throats!” She’s stern, chastising, and you feel ridiculous. “Where did all of this animosity start? Why are you angry with Melissa?”

You can’t help but scoff because the answer should be obvious. Barbara presses her lips together in annoyance and you quickly reply, “Well, where do I begin? Aside from smashing my headlights out, she’s done nothing but disrespect me since I stepped foot in her room. She was insulting me before she even learned my name!”

“I never learned your name,” she pipes up spitefully, and you whip your head around to glare at her. 

“Memory not as good as it used to be?” you retort. A muscle in her jaw jumps out as she clenches her jaw, her face coloring once more. 

Before she has a chance to rip into you again, Barbara cuts you both off with a stern, “Knock it off!” She looks exasperatedly between the two of you before pinching the bridge of her nose. “The Lord is testing me today,” she whispers to herself, shaking her head. She turns her attention to the fiery woman across the room. “Melissa?” 

Melissa comes to a stop, planting herself and leaning her weight onto one hip. She rolls her eyes, gesticulating wildly as she speaks. “If we’re goin’ back to the start, then first things first, she strolled into my class thirty minutes late. Didn’t even have the decency to apologize.” 

“You didn’t give me a chance to!” you protest. “I hadn't even stepped into the room before you were criticizing me. It’s not like I did it on purpose, it was a complete and total accident. And then you started insulting how young and inexperienced I look.” 

“I was just givin’ you a hard time, that’s all,” she says indignantly. “How was I suppose ta know you can’t take a joke?”

Your head whips toward her. “And smashing my headlights? Was that a joke?” you retort incredulously. 

Her eyes narrow and her tone is venomous as she hisses, “Nah, that was for throwin’ away my school supplies, stealin’ lunches, and callin’ me a bitch.” 

You hear Barbara’s sharp inhale and jump to defend yourself. “Those supplies were all broken or unusable! You have so much on your hands with two classes and I was just trying to help you. Also, Janine gave me that lasagna because I forgot my lunch, I didn’t steal anything. You wouldn’t give me a chance to explain myself before jumping down my throat. Not to mention calling me degrading names in Italian!” 

Barbara raises an eyebrow and gives Melissa a knowing glance. “Melissa uses gabbortz quite often, it’s nothing to get offended over,” she says, an attempt to reassure you.

Melissa’s eyes dart to Barbara’s as she huffs, “Uh, it’s gabbadost , Barb. And I mighta used somethin’ more… vulgar.” To your disbelief, the red head practically looks sheepish at this admission. Her arms cross in front of her as she shifts her weight, and your eyes are drawn to how the motion causes her cleavage to swell ever so slightly. Feeling heat flood your cheeks, you dart your eyes all over the room, attempting to find something else to fix them on. Luckily, neither woman seems to notice. Barbara’s eyebrows are furrowed in an inquisitive way that suggests she’s waiting for the shorter woman to elaborate. Melissa lets out a puff of air. “I mighta used the ‘P’ word, a’right?” 

Barbara’s eyes widen as her mouth drops open in a gasp. “The ‘P’ word? Melissa Schemmenti, you don’t mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, the one I save exclusively for Kristin Marie. That ‘P’ word.” You don’t know who Kristin Marie is, but Barbara looks positively scandalized.

Tearing her eyes away from Melissa, Barbara stands and turns away from both of you, hands on her hips and head shaking in disapproval. As she takes her turn pacing across the room, the disappointed silence from the older woman allows the weight of the last week to settle on you, and you find yourself suddenly exhausted. You lean forward, your head in your hands and the shame rising inside of you like a tidal wave. How did you get here? 

“Well, I think you both have been sufficiently horrible to each other,” Barbara says, turning toward you. “Now explain how this has all made you feel.” 

You and Melissa groan in unison. “Come on, Barb,” Melissa starts, but Barbara holds up a single admonishing finger to silence her. The Italian woman becomes subdued immediately, and you notice how different Melissa’s reaction is to being silenced by Barbara.

“How has this made you feel?” the older woman presses, her tone of voice a warning to comply. Melissa leans against the wall, refusing to budge. You all sit in tense silence for what feels like an eternity, and you wish the floor would swallow you up. She was using the same tactics on you that you might use on two fighting eight year olds.

Eventually, you can’t handle the tension any longer and you burst out, “I feel totally disrespected!” You look to Barbara and she gestures for you to continue. “I uh… I feel belittled, and like you don’t take me seriously, but I think the worst part is I never got the chance to prove to you that I belong here… you wrote me off before you even met me. I’ve worked hard, and I love what I do, so to have you disregard me right off the bat, just because I made a mistake and I look young… it felt pretty shitty,” you admit, the confession coming out of you in one long rush. 

“Especially because… I was excited to work with you,” you add quietly. You’re suddenly enamored with the floor, unable to bring yourself to look either woman in the eye. You feel exposed and vulnerable, and you’re majorly uncomfortable with it. 

You’re forced to endure your feelings of discomfort for a few more torturous minutes. Suddenly, your eyes widen in shock as a husky voice meets your ears, and it takes a moment for your brain to process the words. 

“I guess I feel a lot of the same,” Melissa admits. You raise your gaze to meet hers, and she’s staring at you intently, the earnestness reflected in her jewel-green eyes making your heart skip a beat. “Felt like you didn’t really care when you were late. Some a’ these kids? They got plenty of adults outside of these walls that don’t really care. That’s the last thing they need here. And then ya walked in and you look so young… I couldn't resist teasin' ya. But then you got me back and I got defensive, and I shouldnt’a.” She shifts her weight, casting her eyes to the floor. “I bought all those supplies with my own money,” she admits. “So seein’ you throwin’ em away, it really rubbed me the wrong way. But… you were right. I was tryin’ to stretch em when there was no more room to stretch. And then seein’ my lasagna on your desk… I know I can be a real hot head, and I took it out on ya and it wasn’t fair.” 

As you look at Melissa, her red hair shining under the fluorescents and her evident unease at her own candor, there’s a swelling feeling in your chest and a warmth slowly spreading in your limbs. “Melissa,” you say, and her head snaps up to meet you. You search her eyes, waiting for her to snap at you for using her first name. She doesn’t. She simply waits, holding your gaze, and you can’t quite read what’s behind her eyes, but you suspect it’s something far softer than she’s shown you before. 

You allow yourself to swim in those emerald pools for just a second longer before you admit, tenderly, “I’m sorry.” You see her shoulders drop ever so slightly, tension releasing as she allows your words to sink in. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said about your age. I’m sorry for throwing your things away without asking. And I’m really sorry about the Eagles tickets. That definitely wasn’t my finest moment.” You say the last bit with a touch of humor. You pause for a moment, before adding, “I’m not going to apologize for the lasagna, though. Janine insisted on giving it to me, and it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever tasted.” 

You see her eyes widen, her brows raising in surprise. A genuine satisfied smile graces her lips, and you can’t help but momentarily wish things had been different over the last week so you could have seen more of those. That smile made her entire demeanor change. 

“Well,” she says, eyes flashing with her own humor. She shoots you a sly grin, and you return a small smile of your own. “If I’m bein’ real with ya, I’m impressed. Fake tickets? Pretty diabolical,” she continues, admiration in her voice. Her smile fades, though, and she brings her hand up, pressing a knuckle to her lips briefly in thought. She sighs, murmuring, “I’m sorry too. I shoulda given you a chance before jumpin’ to conclusions. And, uh… I’ll pay for ya to get your headlights fixed.” She mutters that last part, and you notice that she didn’t apologize for smashing them - but you know it’s as close as she’ll come, because you’re not sure she entirely regrets it. You’ll take what you can get.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and once again you suddenly can’t look at her anymore. Luckily, Barbara draws your focus to her as she clears her throat. You both look toward the older teacher as she stares down at you, a smug, triumphant smile dancing across her full lips. 

“Now, was that so hard?” She asks, her voice teasing both of you. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe fully again. Melissa rolls her eyes, pulling herself away from the wall, but you detect a hint of relief radiating off of the woman as well. 

“Don’t expect us to hold hands or nothin’ Barb,” she says as she heads for the door. When she reaches it, she pauses and turns to you. She considers you for a moment, and you begin to feel warm underneath her gaze. Finally, she says, “Well, ya comin’? We got lessons to plan for the day. How do ya feel about teaching Science?” Her tone is gruff, commanding, no nonsense. The carefully curated tough exterior of Melissa Schemmenti is back in place. But you’ve seen the slightest glimpse of the human being underneath.

“Right behind you,” you reply, and a tentative grin breaks out across your face as you stand and begin to follow the short woman. You pause briefly though, a thought entering your mind, and you turn to Barabra. Your hands grasp each other behind your back as you rock forward onto the balls of your feet, and you convey your gratitude by giving the older woman the warmest smile you can muster and uttering, “Thank you, Barbara.”

She returns your smile, her own radiant and warm, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve been blessed a bit. “My pleasure, dear. Go on, I’ll see you at lunch.” You nod in agreement, and turn on your heel, following after your lead teacher. You’re not friends - seeing as your time is limited at Abbott, you don’t imagine you ever will be. But you feel lighter, and there’s a newfound respect for the short woman. And for the first time since you stepped foot inside Abbott Elementary, you feel excited for the day before you.

-------

A/N:

Yes, I'm sorry, Gary will be briefly mentioned/perhaps even making small appearances. Stay strong lol. Controversial opinion but I don't hate Gary. Did I think he was good enough for Melissa? HELL NO. Do I think he should have respected her wishes and listened to her when she explained her boundaries? HELL YES. But ultimately he was just a big dumb guy who was infatuated with Melissa Schemmenti, and to that, I relate. Still, I wasn't mad about that split.

Fun fact - if you've watched season 3 episode 4 already, I wrote the Ava roster line before that episode aired. I died laughing when the kids were talking to Gregory about his roster. We don't need to talk about the firefighter exchange... denial is my favorite state.

[sim-songs]

and then they danced the night away...

That's the end of the wedding event pictures, next up are gertrusie's marriage portraits and such.

Also, Benji looks slightly demonic because of a glitch that made his eyes black, but we're not talking about that lol

Also also, I wanna make an updated family tree soon bc Barb aged up into a young adult and there have been some relationship changes

[enchanterium-fan-account]

Boys and girls of every age. Would you like to see something strange??

In breathless anticipation of whatever spooky tricks Barb and Alex will pull out of their witches hats this year, I’m reaching back to Halloween 2021 for the second installment of their dark winx club mini series. So while awaiting their next video which will probably be Libra, step into my way back machine and witness the underwater MAJESTY of dark Layla/Aisha!

Fate: the winx saga did our girls, especially our resident Fairy of Tides, so dirty and Alex and Barb have no patience for it lol.

“At the beginning of this year, fate: the winx saga came out on Netflix, and it wanted to portray winx characters in a darker setting. But I don’t think it succeeded.”

“I want our dark Layla to be spooky but with a lot of colors and bright features because that’s the vibe of the original winx cartoon. Colorful fashion and magical designs. I just want to show that you can make a darker rendition of a character and still use light colors and have fun with the design.”

“Layla is a fairy of water and our version will be an evil underwater creature. That’s why we don’t need her wonky loose legs.” *saws Clawdeen doll apart at the torso*

“We need to spookify her design a bit more. Skeletons are spooky right?”

“She looks great so far, but to be honest she doesn’t look like Layla with straight hair like this. So let’s fix it with plastic straws and bobby pins.”

If you are an enjoyer of the original cartoon in any capacity, if you occasionally rewatch today or just remember it fondly, this video is for you! Alex and Barb seamlessly fix the hatchet job Fate did to the Princess of Andros, and give us a colorful, fashionable, morphix-powered evil mermaid. All in the Halloween spirit of course!

If you like the video consider going to subscribe to the enchanterium YouTube channel!

[neyafromfrance95]

hey, i hope you don't mind but i kinda need to vent a little bit 😅

as a poc it's making really sad to see that "shipping vaultghoul is racist and erases maximus and barb" is such a prominent anti argument. i don't interact with these posts or these people (because i really don't want to waste my time) but it's like they don't hear themselves. maximus is a protagonist in his own right and has so much shit going on tat has nothing to do with lucy and while barb is a minor character, she's an activate member of a corporation that seeks to end the world for profit (and we get to see her own conflicts towards this) and not just cooper's wife. they're so much more than love interests but they need "special treatment" because their s/o are white 🙄

plus what is this narrow minded type of thinking where once you start to ship a couple all the other relationships become invalid? it's fiction ffs. no one is better than anyone and there's no such thing as a 'supreme ship'

i think the worst thing that came out of fallout shipping discourse is reducing maximus to a love interest of lucy when he is much, much more than that and as you said, a protagonist in his own right! like, can we stop only talking about him in the context of romance with lucy and hype him up as he deserves?! he is so complex and refreshing, he deserves more than being a talking point in a shipping discourse.

and while i mainly ship lucy x cooper, i'm fine with lucy x max and the majority of vaultghoul shippers are too. not to mention that max is like my ideal type of a dude, lol. i crushed on this man so hard while watching the show. so, those of us who ship vaultghoul do not dislike max or think he is boring (there is a difference between finding a character boring and finding his relationship with the other character a bit bland).

tbh, i hope max gets even more development and important storyline points in s2 so that maybe ppl will stop acting like he is just lucy's boyfriend.

and i think it's also weird to dismiss the possibility of max x dane when the representation this relationship could offer is very important. and as an enby myself it would be so validating for me to see the enby character paired up with the main dude (that again, i have a massive crush on).

also, i love barb and her relationship with cooper. she is a cool villain and her & cooper were a hot classy couple. tbh, it's just that ppl rarely get too shippy when it comes to the exes, especially when one is a very minor character. but i'm excited for whatever we get with her in the future.

in the end of the day, i hope the discourse (whether it is about cooper vs max for lucy, the age gap or the human x ghoul thing) won't get too heavy in this fandom bc it will ruin it and make our experiences here full of frustration instead of fun.

i'm personally all for multishipping lucy, the ghoul and maximus with everyone in this series.

[livwritesstuff]

Angsty question- feel free to ignore if you want.

Historically, dads yelling has always been a very not-good sound. Especially to girls.

What happened the first time Steve or Eddie (or both) yelled? Not even at the girls; it could’ve been a heated argument they were having.

How old were the girls? What did they do? How did Steve and Eddie feel? What did they do?

oooh okay i definitely took my time mulling over this one bc i wanna make sure i’m getting my wording right

(and reading this back i’m realizing i kind of don’t really answer your actual question hope that’s okay lol)

I think a really important facet of this is that (in this ‘verse) Steve is a licensed and practicing trauma counselor. Not only does he know how harmful (and counter-productive) yelling can be, he also knows all sorts of other methods for communication that are just better.

It’s not that the girls don’t ever piss him off or do stupid shit and get in trouble – he just knows way more effective ways to get them to realize oh shit, I fucked up than by yelling at them.

(I think if anything, he could be a stress-yeller, but by the time he and Eddie start fostering kids, he’s been through so much shit that he doesn’t really ever hit that stress threshold anymore).

And then, I think with Eddie, he’s still as dramatic as ever even in middle-aged adulthood, and I think he gets loud about things pretty much regardless of the emotion behind it, so the girls aren’t super phased by it if/when he does get loud from a place of anger or frustration. I also feel like Eddie tends to defer to Steve when it comes to the heavier parts of parenthood, precisely because he knows that Steve is coming at it from a place of clinical expertise in a way that he himself isn’t. Steve isn’t a yeller, so neither is Eddie. Maybe if Steve had been more inclined to yell, Eddie would be too.

Same thing applies with Steve and Eddie’s communication with each other – they don’t really get into screaming matches over shit, but when they do argue or have disagreements or conflict or whatever, they get mean, and I think this is where there could be some problems. 

Like, they can throw some serious barbs at each other when they want to (and they’ve known each other for a long time so they’ve got plenty of ammo), and when the girls are little, it’s easy to forget in the heat of the moment that they actually can understand what their dads are saying.

Hence why, a few hours after an argument (about nothing – they were just both in pissy moods at the same time, and with Hazel not even five months old yet they’re not really getting much sleep which doesn’t help things at all), Steve finds three-year-old Robbie crying in her room, and when he asks her what’s wrong, she whimpers, “Moe said you and Daddy are gonna get a divorce.”

And, fuck, Moe is only six, and Steve didn’t know that she even knew what divorce was (though it’s possible he and Eddie had gossiped a little too close to the sun about one of their neighbors’ divorce earlier that same week, so maybe that one's on them), and the notion that her brain had been able to make that connection from the things she'd heard earlier had Steve feeling like the worst guy on the planet.

Then, when they sat down with the older two girls to make sure they knew that everything was fine and no one was getting divorced, it only got worse because Moe started repeating back to them the shitty things they had said to each other, and there’s a special kind of shame in hearing word-for-word the vitriol he’d directed at Eddie – who he loves; no argument could ever change that – coming out of his kindergartener’s mouth.

Yeah, so anyways, I don’t really think yelling would necessarily be an issue with them, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some real flaws in their communication that stick with the girls.