#she kept saying she's in the same boat but! she's not! she's making a manager salary in a dual income household!

[monstermoviedean]

hahaha my boss' incompetence screwed me out of 2k and she's acting like it was my fault ha Ha HA

[sirenologyyy]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK!

neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

✧ summary : a certain sully boy can't admit he's smitten by one of the daughters of the olo'eyktan, but why would he? he's calculated and discerning and she's everything he wished he was.

✧ warnings : swearing (that's pretty much it LMAO)

✧ author's note : neteyam's 15, reader is older than tsireya by a year or so, some much needed lo'ak and neteyam brotherly bonding (after the trauma inducing hellscape that was atwow), lo'ak talking like a regular teenage boy, and in honor of it being December again, may i present to you, a neteyam fic that has been rotting in my drafts since April 🤩

A gravelly groan escapes your lips as your hands managed to shield your face, almost to hide yourself from the undisputable truth that you, along with your Tsireya, and your older brother Ao'nung had been roped into the evident mess that was to teach the children of Toruk Makto the ways of the Metkayina.

You weren't as prejudiced as Ao'nung, sneering at the Sully children whenever he'd run into them, so meticulously influenced by your mother's dislike towards Skypeople, let alone the Omaticaya.

You weren't as welcoming as your younger sister, who had greeted them with big grins that only further accentuated her dimples and her devout willingness to help Toruk Makto's family in any way she could. While you had resorted to mirthless smiles and polite nods whenever you'd come across one of them, it was unnatural, yes, Ao'nung was quite unfair with his treatment towards them, yes, but Tsireya's overall cheer and joviality was something you could not for the life of you reciprocate.

You were fine with them being here, although you couldn't say the same for most of your people.

The only real thorn in your side was the oldest.

Neteyam.

Oh how your blood boiled whenever you'd spot him in the crowd. Always so eager to help, so eager to please, so perfect, so good, it made you want to punch the living daylights out of him... Well, only slightly, that may be an exaggeration. Your hate for him might be particularly irrational but valid in all the worst ways.

"Can't you tell them I've been bitten by something?"

"No" Tsireya snorts.

"I've slipped collecting coconuts and dislocated my ankle"

"Stop moving so much sister, or I will mess up your hair"

It was like he was so anxious about keeping up the golden boy facade, what a show off, you thought. Going out of his way to help any way he could, helping carry baskets of dried fish across the village, pushing heavy boats off to sea, weaving baskets, seeing to the ilus, even the tsuraks at one point. It infuriated you. What did he had to gain?

If there was one thing you despised, it was try-hards.

And Neteyam Sully was the bane of your existence.

"Oh!" You had exclaimed, snapping your fingers. "You can tell them I have fallen off my ilu and got ripped apart by an akula"

Tsireya laughed. "Yes, like they would believe me"

With another scoff, you stare st your sister through the mirror, so engrossed in the braiding technique you'd requested for her to do on your hair. "I don't see why you're bringing me into your affairs sister, it is clear as day you only want to help out the Forest People because you like the way that boy kept looking at you yesterday"

Tsireya tugs at your half-finished braid, making you swear and rub at your head, bringing Tsireya some amusement out of this. "Now, be quiet, be still, let me do my job"

With a sour mood, you allow Tsireya to thread the shells you requested she put in, sitting up straighter. "Your job in being an absolute bitch?"

Tsireya sighs again, feeling her slump in frustration behind you. "Do you think it is so easy a job for me to constantly deal with your attitude?"

A smirk comes to your face as Tsireya knots your braid off. "Don't worry, all your efforts will be seen by Eywa, she might even make the boy tell you your hair looks nice today"

"Enough, Y/N" Tsireya says, standing up from her seat.

You stood as well, hooking your arm around Tsireya's as you left your pod. "Oh let me have my fun"

A dozen morbid thoughts suddenly flood Tsireya's mind. "If we do that I am afraid there will be nothing left of Awa'atlu when you are finished"

When you arrive, you immediately spot both the brothers sitting on the edge of the woven platform, their long legs dangling just above the water. They looked to be so immersed in a conversation that neither of them noticed you or Tsireya approach them, only when they were about 4 feet apart was when you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

"Oh great mother, is it just the two of you?" Says you, making both the boys stand up like springs.

"No, our sisters are coming, they aren't exactly good at being early to things" says the younger one, his eyes flicking to Tsireya every now and then, making you dizzy trying to hold eye contact with the boy.

"Hey Tsireya" He finally says, nodding at her sister who laughs again. It took everything in you not to start dry-heaving in front of them.

"Why do you sound so disappointed?" Neteyam wonders, another smirk playing at his thin lips as he looks at you.

Your forehead creases. "I am nothing of the sort, what about you? What has gotten you so chipper?"

"Nothing all that special, really" He replied, not even convincing himself.

You heftily exhaled through your nose, moving away from the group and walking up on the platform, taking one of the seaweed bands on your arm to bunch your hair up just to get it out of your face. Once you'd pull your hair through the band the final time, you turned around just to see Neteyam's head turn away, almost like it was a chain reaction.

You placed your hands over the dip of your hips, facing the odd group. "Now, where has our dear brother wandered off to? It's almost noon and he is nowhere in sight"

This makes the rest of them look around for Ao'nung, even the two brothers who you'd assumed wanted nothing to do with him after your brother had showed his blatant contempt towards them after he'd ridiculed them during their arrival.

"He must still be with Rotxo and the others, we must be patient" says Tsireya.

Your mind remained closed, throwing your hands up in the air only for them to land on her hips with a thwack. "We both know Ao'nung does not move like the tide, he is too stubborn, too hard in the head " you found yourself saying, prodding a finger at your forehead.

"Patience, sister" Tsireya admonishes calmly, making her way towards you as you placed your hands on the identation of your woven skirt. "We must not rush things, we allow things to come to us at their own pace"

"Alright, alright" you tell her half-heartedly.

"Hey! Sorry, are we late?"

You turn her head to spot the two Sully sisters jogging up to the beach, the youngest out of all of them went straight for Neteyam, watching as he scooped her up with no hesitation. "Where in Eywa's name were you two?" Neteyam wonders, eyeing his sisters curiously.

The older girl rolled her eyes, pointing her chin at the youngest. "Couldn't decide on which skirt she wanted to wear"

The little girl pouts. "I didn't know which one I wanted!" She protested, her ears drooping down.

"She had two to choose from" the older sister groaned. Eyes finding yours as her grin widens, you chuckle to yourselves, having sisters was never a dull moment.

You two had bonded over that when you first helped her with her chores, although she seemed reluctant at first she accepted. Neither of you got anything done as you both found that snacking on dried seaweed and exchanging stories about your lives proved to be more fun.

"Maybe he isn't coming" says Neteyam's younger brother, subtly inching towards Tsireya while keeping everyone under the impression that he was trying to find Ao'nung just like she was, but in truth, all he wanted was to stand beside her. Tsireya didn't pick up on it at all, being the oblivious person she was, but Neteyam did, quietly chuckling to himself as he puts Tuk down, watching as she sprints towards the sand at full speed.

You shook your head at the sound of Tsireya's giggles and walks off the diving platform as well, making your way towards the beach to stretch your legs, walking along the coastline trying to kill time. That is until something tugs at your skirt, you turned around to see who it was but then looks down to see Neteyam's youngest sister, proudly holding a small conch shell in her hands, beaming up at you.

"They look just like the ones in your hair!" She exclaimed, a gigantic grin spreading across her face as you crouched to her level, taking the shell from her hands to study it. "It's a light purple, you don't have any purple shells yet"

"You're right, I don't have any purple shells in my hair yet do I?" You say in genuine amazement, holding it up against the sun, feeling the little girl scoot closer to you, but the shell had suddenly started to sprout 6 legs and you dropped it, startled by the animal and by the little girl's scream, you watch as it scurries back into the water, gone forever.

You turned back to the little girl who was visibly upset, another frown slowly forming on her face before you placed your hands on the little girl's shoulders. "Hey, we'll find another one around here somewhere, don't be upset"

She huffed, her shoulders rising and falling. "I didn't know there was something inside it, I really didn't"

You shook your head. "Neither did I, we both didn't know" you assured the younger girl, cupping her round face as her frown slowly started to shift into a smile. "Look, if we need to do this properly and find shells for my hair, I'm gunna need to know your name"

"Tuk!" She says. "My name's Tuk!"

"It's very nice to meet you Tuk"

"Really?" She giggled as you nodded. "What about you? What's your name?"

You beckoned her closer with a simple gesture of your fingers as you whispered your name into her ear.

"You've got a very pretty name" Tuk whispers as well, hiding her face behind her hands as she giggled.

"So do you" You had whispered all the same.

Tuk then looks back at the diving platform, and then back at you. "Y'know I think my brother is staring at you"

"Oh yeah? Why do you think that is so?"

The little girl scratches her head. "I don't know, he only stares at things he thinks looks nice or looks weird"

You grinned. "Does your brother think I look nice or weird?"

Tuk blinks. "I don't think you look weird"

"Would he think that?" Ka'leia emphasized.

"Probably" Tuk replies honestly, looking back at the diving platform again. "Why else does he keep staring at you?"

It made you think, it made your mind spiral into the bottomless void of memories in which you had caught a pair of warm amber eyes catch yours, and every time you did it made your heart stutter, however unfortunate it may be. "I'm not so sure either"

"Neteyam's weird" Tuk deduced.

You snort. "Yeah, he's weird"

Silence settles between you, but not for long as Tuk takes your hand and pulls you up. "Can we go and find shells now? Then we can put them in your hair! Then you'll look pretty!"

"Am I not pretty now?"

"No, not really" says Tuk, swinging your interlocked arms back and forth as her wide eyes scanned the sand.

"No?" You wonder almost scandalised, "alright " you nod.

You and Tuk spent a good couple of minutes digging holes on the beach to fish out the shells that had been buried underneath the sand, conch shells, shards of shells, fossils, rocks, bits and pieces of coral, if it was pretty enough for Tuk's standards she's adding it to her pile.

5 minutes later you're following her around with an armful of tiny shells, half the beach full of holes from Tuk and her makeshift shovel that had originally been a branch, with her screaming in delight when she's spotted another one, hurriedly running to you to add it in with the rest.

Lo'ak abruptly places his hands on Neteyam's shoulders, purposefully trying to scare him but Neteyam does not flinch at all. "Yo bro, you got a staring problem or something?" He wonders in English, stepping beside Neteyam to look out into the beach too.

"You done flirting with Tsireya?" Neteyam shot back.

Lo'ak huffed. "Pfft, me? Tsireya?"

"I know your tell, your tail's a dead giveaway"

Lo'ak laughs, punching Neteyam's shoulder, finally making the older boy turn to face him. "Yo! Shut your ass up!"

Neteyam chuckles. "No one else here understands English bro, we're fine!"

Lo'ak shook his head. "I'm not worried about the Metkayina, I'm worried about that devil right there" He says, pointing at the beach.

Neteyam looks at the direction where Lo'ak was pointing. "Who? Tuk?

"She's got spot on hearing, incredible memory," Lo'ak listed. "If I'd have known how much of a tattletail she'd be I'd have abandoned her in the forest when she was a baby"

Neteyam frowns, laughing. "Yes, and when I'd get home I'd find your extra finger in my stew"

Lo'ak grimaces, almost gagging as Neteyam wiggles one of his fingers at him. "Disgusting!"

Neteyam cackles loudly, watching as Lo'ak covered his mouth. "You're overreacting!" He tells him.

"Nah bro, you don't get to fill my mind with those kinda thoughts" Lo'ak says.

Neteyam places a hand on his back. "Face it baby bro, i'm in your head"

Lo'ak pushes it away, chuckling. "Lay off!"

"Will you two ever go a day without fighting eachother?" Kiri asks, giving them a look.

"Not sure" says Lo'ak. "But I wouldn't hold my breath"

Kiri rolled her eyes and Lo'ak turns to Neteyam again. "If Ao'nung isn't coming then we might as well fetch him, if you catch my drift"

Neteyam shakes his head, his braids swishing from side to side. "No, we will do no such thing"

Lo'ak half shrugs, already moving away. "Fine, if you won't then I will"

Neteyam grabs his arm, stopping his brother in his tracks. "Hey, what did dad say?"

He pretends to think. "Not sure, something about you being the next poster boy of the clan?"

Neteyam flicks a finger on Lo'ak's forehead, making the younger boy hiss. "No, you skxawng, he wants us to be on our best behavior, and I don't want to be stopping you from pulling another shitty stunt that'll get you in trouble"

"Fine" Lo'ak says. "I'll go check up on Tuk," He tells Neteyam unconvincingly, scratching the side of his head. "What's up with you and wanting to stay on the beach?"

Neteyam's jaw tightens. "There's nothing that's keeping me here except my promise to dad"

"Uh-huh" Lo'ak nods, eyes flicking to you and Tuk. "Nothing or no one?"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Lo'ak frowns, pretending he understood. "She's pretty hot"

Neteyam pays him no mind, only scoffing.

"She still avoiding you?" Lo'ak asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, and I can't seem to find the reason why" Neteyam huffed.

Lo'ak snickers. "Maybe it's cuz you're coming off a little too strong"

"I don't know how else I can get her to talk to me without her insulting every fibre of my being or making up some excuse to leave, I've tried everything" He replies desperately, causing Lo'ak's eyes to go wide, a whistle leaving his mouth. "Damn that bad??? What the hell did you do to her to make you hate her this much?"

Neteyam rakes his face with dread. "I don't know baby bro, but you have no idea what I would do to find out the reason why"

His brother was too down-bad to be saved, Lo'ak knew that much, looking across the beach as he studies you with his little sister. Neteyam looks at his brother, his eyes seemingly trained on you as it flicks up and down, he slaps his brother's arm. "It's rude to stare"

"Yeah, go tell that to them" Says Lo'ak, pointing at a handful of Metkayin boys passing by, giving you stolen glances as they talked amongst themselves, chuckling and hooting.

Neteyam's eyes narrow into slits. "They're irrelevant, we must not let ourselves become like them"

Lo'ak glances at him, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, okay, so stop looking"

"Fine, I won't" Neteyam replies quickly, watching Lo'ak turn around and walk to the edge of the platform. But he dosen't stop looking, he hated himself for it for it and the way that it was practically eating himself alive.

Wasn't it such a simple task? To turn his head around and look somewhere else? Well it should be, but Neteyam couldn't bring himself to pry his eyes away from you, you, oh Eywa. Your eyes were the colour of the sea, your hair shiny and black, your smile making his stomach twist itself into knots, your laugh making shivers run up his back, the way you dressed alone would make people turn heads, but your attitude was what drew Neteyam in.

You didn't feel the need to keep up this respectful facade, treat him like a guest because it was expected of you as the daughter of the Olo'eyktan, no, you treated him the way you thought of him.

You were rude, you were impolite, and you were blunt, because you didn't like him. You didn't feel inclined to tolerate him just like what was expected of you. He wished he was that brave.

"'Teyam! 'Teyam look what I got!" Tuk squealed as the pair of you walked up the diving platform carrying mountains of shells on your palms. "Y/N told me she and 'Reya could put these in my hair after diving lessons! Isn't that cool?!?"

"Oh Tuk, you didn't force her into braiding your hair did you?"

Tuk looks back at you for moral support. "But she said she would-"

"-Neteyam let her be, if she wants me to braid her hair then I'd be happy to" you had jumped in, siding with Tuk whose ears flicked upwards at her statement. "I hope it isn't too infuriating that I favour your sisters over you"

Neteyam wanted to scoff, but instead stifles it with a tight smile. "Nonsense, my sisters have that effect on everyone" He tells her, looking at Tuk. "Don't you?"

Tuk simply gives him a giggle, a swift nod, and then runs to Kiri, shouting her name over and over again before the older girl groans in acknowledgement. "Here," you say, handing him a conch shell with yellow and brown patterns ruminating on its surface.

"What's this for?" He wonders.

"Your sister practically dug up the entire beach, you deserve at least one" you chuckled.

Oh. He stares at the shell in your hands, then looks back at your face. "If I take this does this mean we'll be friends?" He asks, a sly smile breaking on his face.

"Oh you wish" You reply, smirking as you narrow your eyss at the boy. "Taking this won't change anything"

"Yes it does," He replies as a matter of factly. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had without you leaving or insulting me"

"No it dosen't" You shook your head, insistent. "I'll still hate you after this"

He hums. "I think I can live with that," He smiled. "I did get a gift from the daughter of the Olo'eyktan after all" He laughs when he hears you scoff.

You leave right after he takes it and right before he could say thank you. Walking off to find a basket to store more of Tuk's shells in.

Neteyam looks at the shell in his hands, about 2 and a half inches long, smooth, shiny, perfect, it was perfect. He loves it. He closes his fist, a smile breaking on his face before he could even relent it, a light purple tinting his cheeks as he places the shell in one of his pockets.

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[sirenpearldust]

A kiss with Death - part two

series masterlist ⋆ part one

Pair: Azriel x Hewn City! Reader

Word Count: 3.719

Warnings: mentions of violence, r*pe (only mentioned), killing, death, cursing, “delusional” Azriel, abuse against kids (only mentioned), complicated feelings towards mating bond

“So, I have a mate?”

“Yes,” 

“And I will kill him?”

“Yeah, basically,” replied Imani, her tone tinged with sadness as she looked up from the crystal ball. The violet light from the crystal ball cast a reflection on her face.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Camilla remarked, nonchalantly munching on dried meat.

“And he’s the shadowsinger too,” Estella added, her eyes unable to look away from the crystal ball that still depicted him and you, the scene replaying over and over. Her expression was a mix of pity for you and anger directed at him for being your mate, making it difficult to read her true feelings.

“Well, at least he’s handsome and tall,” you stated, eliciting laughter from the group. The room was warm, but your heart felt gripped by a cold hand, racing uncontrollably. You couldn't tell if it was because you had discovered he was your mate or because he had to die. You loathed him with a passion, but the conflicting reality was that he was your damn mate. 

“Now, we need to be cautious when dealing with the scum from Velaris. If he and the High Lord catch wind of what’s going on... He can’t be near you, or the bond might snap,” Stella cautioned.

"Well, at least we're in the same boat," Camilla said casually, still munching on the meat as she patted you on the shoulder.

"You tried killing your fiancé. She's killing her mate. That's different, you dumb idiot," Estella chided, giving Camilla a light slap on the back of her head. 

"Stella, that hurt."

"Well, then don't be stupid," Stella snapped back.

As they continued to argue, Imani shook her head, and you found it difficult to process this new revelation. The realization left you feeling queasy. Glancing into the crystal ball and catching a glimpse of him, seeing both of you happy together, made you question why would you even let him near you. 

Was a bond really that strong? 

Had something transpired between you two? 

Why did Camilla help you? Scratch that! What a dumb question. Camilla would always help you kill someone - even mates. She abhorred them immensly.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, your heart heavy as you watched him bleed. Tears welled up, and you felt sick to your stomach. You couldn’t look away from his face. He still gazed at you with love in his eyes, though the light in them seemed to dim with each passing second.

He kept saying something to you, but his words were muffled and his lips blurred as the vision faltered.

Imani took hold of your hand, "Perhaps there's a reason. Maybe you don't have to end his life. You can alter fate." 

Her smile was reassuring. "Perhaps the crystal ball showed us the vision so we could prevent it."

"Yeah, fates change, and perhaps you have a role in that too," Estella shrugged.

"You saw me in the vision too. Maybe I'm meant to help you prevent kill—" Camilla attempted to say.

"You would support her, not stop her, you witch," Stella huffed.

"Damn, you're right, and I did," she proudly pointed at the crystal ball. She wasn't phased; you knew she cared. Her only aim was to make you laugh, and it worked as you smiled slightly.

Rubbing your hand over your face, you sighed heavily, a frown etching your features. "Let's go. We've got work to do."

• •

Walking into the cold night, small fae lights scatered across the city illuminated the way to your destination for the four of you. The darkness and chill sent shivers down your spine, you regretted not dressing warmer. Stella rubbed her hands over her arms as her teeth chattered. 

"It's freezing. Damn, I should have dressed better," she cursed. Cam and Imani chuckled softly, while you managed only a faint smile in response. 

Hewn city was unsightly, to say the least. The dim light didn't alleviate the sight, instead it highlighted its unattractive aesthetic. The area where you and your friends were taken was particularly dark, with only occasional glimpses of light penetrating the neighborhoods you all inhabited.

You and your friends heard of the world above, the different courts, the continent, the magical stories. You've heard how happiness and love supposedly filled the air.

When you were younger you had gathered as kids around the merchants, to listen to the stories, them recounting everything that happened up there. 

They spoke of the green fields, the summer breeze, the blazing sun on hot summer days and the snow-covered fields in the winter court. 

They described magical libraries accessible to people from all walks of life; the poor, rich, priestesses, females.

Every month, they returned with different foods and snacks from the various courts, such as the Pear and brown butter strudel from autumn and the pistachio ice cream and butter pecan from winter, showcasing you all the diverse culinary enjoyed above ground.

They also displayed the colorful garments worn in different courts, offering glimpses of the vibrant, varied clothing thriving beyond the confines of the Hewn City. 

You used to dream about the dresses they described at night. You still remember lying in bed at 18, hearing the distant sounds of the ball echoing through the city, imagining yourself dancing with a charming male who would rescue you from your family.

You recall the shimmering fabrics worn by females during winter festivities, the luxurious velvet garments people wore in Velaris during the solstice, and the intricate jewelry crafted in Hewn City, kept hidden from your people in fear of theft and only presented and sold outside its borders.

Above ground, the world was colorful and lively in contrast to the life the citizens of Hewn city had to endure. Hewn City was cold and dark, with only the rich and the nobility granted access to places touched by the sun and the privilege of entering Velaris. 

However, even they faced limitations on where they could go and how often they were allowed above ground and who even sold to them.

No one liked the High Lord. He had trapped you all down here under this mountain to fend and fight for yourselves. Everyone agreed that he and his goons were nothing but hypocrites. Supposedly welcoming of all but the citizens of the Hewn City and Illyria. This sadly included your mate too.

People down here were indeed cruel, but being nice and naive wouldn't save you, it would only get you used and killed or worse sold. You all had already been dealt different kinds of bad cards, but being sold into slavery was undoubtedly the worst of them all.

Trying to survive, you and your friends lived together in your house.

Your group consisted of you four girls: Estella, Imani, Camilla, and yourself.

Camilla, the daughter of Lord Thanatos, who was a close friend of Lord Keir. She was the one who had the ties to the aristocrats. Rejecting multiple suitors, almost killing her last fiancé and generally causing trouble for her father, it was a wonder how she still lived.

Despite her efforts to talk to him and initiate change for the people, she was reminded of her place as a women in this society.

She knew that running away wasn't an option, as her father would likely lock her in her room until they found someone who was willing enough to handle her. 

He barely tolerated her coming and going and how she would hang out with you all as if you were beneath her.

She still joined you and the other two, to have somewhat of an escape, somewhere she could feel comfortable. 

Estella joined you for the same reason; she was alone and seeking safety. She had a mysterious aura around herself and aside from her disdain for men and love for teasing Camilla, not much was known about her. Despite her quiet demeanor, Estella had a tendency to surprise you. Get too close, and you risked losing your eyes to her sharp nails—an experience you had witnessed firsthand.

Centuries ago, Imani healed your injuries with her witch powers, binding you to her ever since. Her motherly instincts led her to „adopt“ the three of you, completing the last piece of your puzzle. She only practices her powers at home, for if they were ever discovered, you would all be condemned to the dungeons to face the merciless beasts.

You lived good, well had lived a pleasant life. Your family, once part of the upper class, fell from grace a century ago, with your family of six meeting an untimely demise, you the only survivor.

It was deemed an accidental death, but deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Since then, you've been living with Imani and Estella in the house left to you by your parents. Without a father or younger brothers to control you, and lacking a husband, you were deemed shameless for not conforming to higher society.

Offers from men came left and right not only to get your inheritance but also your estate and body.

• •

After only a few steps, you entered the warmth of the bar. The sound of piano music and laughter filled the air. The customers were already drunk, the booths occupied by young soldiers enjoying their free time and chatting with the bartender.

Your eyes roamed the bar, searching for him. It would have been easier if everyone didn't have dark hair and was dressed in black down here.

"Oi, fuckface, there you are!" Cam yelled across the bar.

"Fucking quiet down," you hissed.

Attracting attention was never smart. Thankfully, people only glanced for a second before turning back to their conversations. 

Black eyes met yours as he walked toward you, clad in the black leathers of the Darkbringer Legion. 

"I wonder how you made it to 500 years and survived. How hasn’t anyone killed you yet?"

Calix approached, grinning slyly.

"I often have the urge," you said, grinning back.

"I'm too cute to be killed," Cam huffed, tossing a strand of her honey-blond hair back.

"I keep her on a leash," Stella grinned, giving Cam a playful shove.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Stella, as if—" Cam retorted.

"Oh god, these two will never stop," Kieran remarked as he approached.

"What are they arguing about now?"

"Everything and anything," you replied wearily.

"They never quit," Imani sighed, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"You act like you don't enjoy it," you teased with a smirk, she only grinned.

"So, how has soldier life been treating you?" Imani asked, her eyes sparkling like stars. Her crush on him couldn't have been more obvious, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Let's get to our table before Cam decides to kill Calix next to merchants over there," you said, pointing behind you at Cam, who was gripping Calix by the neck. The group was already eyeing them, probably thinking of harvesting his organs.

Kieran was too immersed in Imani's eyes to hear what you said. You could only look at them, aching to be that in love.  You couldn't shake the longing for the love you'd felt in the vision. You felt fuzzy and warm remembering Azriel's eyes, the way he looked at you with so much affection, the way his large hands held you, how in love you both seemed. You could only hope to feel that way again, even though a nagging thought reminded you he was basically your enemy.

Seconds passed before your group gathered and went to a shadowy corner at the end of the bar. You sat next to Kieran, feeling the others close in around you, their eyes focused intently on Kieran. From the table, you had a clear view of every possible exit and patron. Most patrons were drunk enough not to notice your table or smart enough to stay away.

"So, what have you guys got?" Stella asked, snacking on some chips.

"Good news and bad news," Calix replied, putting his arm around Camilla's chair, subtly pulling her closer to him.

Kieran took a sip of his drink, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he grinned.

"Your father has done it," he said with a smirk. Camilla only raised her brow.

"He arrested your piece of shit ex-fiancé. He's been in the dungeons for a few days."

Cam snickered as she flicked her caramel blonde hair behind her back, unintentionally hitting Calix square in the face. His eyes narrowed before he retaliated by pinching her side. She jumped with a yelp, shooting him a glare. 

"Children, concentrate!" you exclaimed. 

Those two could never sit still, but you found yourself envious of their playful dynamic. Was your relationship with your mate similar, or was it more like Imani's and Kieran's—soft, loving, and peaceful?

Kieran continued, “He was caught in bed with Lord Radbrick’s wife - by none other than, you guessed it, Lord Radbrick himself.” 

Lord Radbrick, a close companion of Camilla's father, Lord Thanatos, was understandably furious.

It was rather surprising that Randell would pursue Lady Radbrick at all. As far as you knew, he typically avoided older women whom he considered “used” or “damaged goods.”

"I knew he was stupid, but I never knew he was this damn dumb," Cam shook her head in disbelief.

"I never knew he liked her. Isn't she, like, really old?"

"Well, she's pregnant."

At that, Cam fell out of her chair, bumping into Calix, while you snorted your drink out of your nose. Imani coughed, her drink going down the wrong way and Stella laughed out loud. 

"Unbelievable!" you laughed, wiping the tears away.

After a while the atmosphere calmed down, it got tense as Kieran glanced at Calix, who placed a file on the table with a serious expression.

You opened the file, reading his details aloud. Thanks to the magical bubble Stella had put up, no one outside your group could overhear your conversation.

"He is the new target you have to take care of," Calix said gravely.

The man's file was full of crimes, indicating he was a more challenging criminal to catch than the others - involved in trafficking, robbery, and rape, everything under Velaris.

"I can't believe this," you said with anger evident in your voice. 

"He seems to be an upstanding citizen," Stella added sarcastically. 

His file revealed he was a well known predator, with multiple victims, mostly young children - girls and boys alike - especially in the more rundown areas of Hewn City. He had fled from Velaris, and the authorities had not been able to catch him—or, in other words, they did not care enough to save our children from him.

"He was last seen at Stronghold's Inn," Calix said, his voice low. "He's been staying in one of their rooms for two days. Stronghold's daughter mentioned he hasn't done anything yet, but he's been lurking around the young women serving there. She said he tried to touch a waitress, but the cook intervened before it went any further." Calix rotated his ring around his pointy finger, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

"I hate people from Velaris. They should perish and stop letting their degenerates enter our city," Camilla snarled, her red eyes locking onto yours.

"Didn't you know we're less worthy of our High Lord?" you retorted, laughter laced with bitterness. 

"We should be grateful we're even allowed to live," Imani quoted the High Lord.

"I will never forget why we started taking care of the problems in the city! He is the root of all evil! Him and Keir!" Kieran's eyes blazed with fury.

"At least we should be proud we managed to get rid of some problems" Stella sneered, her jaw tight with anger. "We can't expect them to help us, not even The Morrigan."

"That bitch should have been dead anyway. I thought if she went to Velaris, she would be able to help us, but no, she made it even worse," Camilla spat, her voice dripping with contempt.

You all knew what she was talking about. Laws had changed after Morrigan went to Velaris and the High Lord’s son Rhysand came into power. They laws got stricter and the problems bigger, you could only assume they were out to punish the whole city for what had been done to her.

Morrigan was a greedy and prideful person, her demand for diamonds and rubies only grew stronger over the years. The number of people dying in the mines increased tenfold; mothers lost their sons, children their fathers, wives their husbands...

During Amarantha's reign, times were even worse - a period you’d like to forget if you could. It was the most brutal time, marked by a high rise in famine, crime, and a horrifying rise in cannibalism. Half of the population had already been slain by Amarantha, but the misfortunes didn't end there. Degenerates had overrun the city, and your group took it upon yourselves to make it safer.

You'd been eliminating threats left and right, yet it felt like more criminals kept appearing out of nowhere.

• •

Slipping on the blood-covered floor wasn’t on your agenda today, it covered your skin in a sticky, warm coat. It felt disgusting. 

You were brutal today, maybe you'd been too harsh, but the thrill of his fear, his powerlessness - it fed something deep within you, it felt like justice. You wanted him to feel how his victims had felt. 

A few scratches and a bruised cheek were all you had to show from his pitiful resistance.

With a grim smile, you lifted his head from the floor, one less threat loomed over your people.

He should have been glad it was you if Camilla had pursued him instead, he might have been left alive but with missing limbs. 

You preferred methods involving torture and hand-to-hand combat for dealing with your targets. Occasionally, you resorted to quick measures or utilised your abilities, which still required further refinement. 

Your abilities were known as dream manipulation, similar to that of the Daemati; you could not only delve into their minds, read their thoughts but also bent them to your will. With this you would ensnare them in dreamscapes, trapping them indefinitely in their worst nightmares, possibly to never awaken again.

You had to stand up Imani would soon arrive to clean up the mess you had left behind. Exhausted you realised everything would need to be replaced, cleaned, and the area sanitized.

You made a note to yourself that you definitely needed to work on finishing your work faster and more efficiently.

• •

Azriel had been sleeping more and more the recent days, yet he felt even more exhausted than usual. He struggled through training, unable to concentrate fully. His shadows, typically calm, now enveloped him more protectively than ever before, almost completely concealing his body. Others could barely see or only caught glimpses of Azriel's face amidst the shadows.

Despite this, he didn't mind; he was consumed by obsession. He had seen her, his mate; he was sure of it. He had been dreaming of her, but he could never see her face, or at least he couldn't remember it upon waking. He remembered her soft skin against his scarred and rough hands, her gentle touches, her scent, and the way their heartbeats seemed to synchronize, making him feel whole.

Even days later, he could still feel the warmth of those kisses on his skin. He was reeling while trying to find her again, the feeling she gave him, he felt above the world with her, a high he never wanted to loose, she made him feel safe and fuzzy.

The lack of sleep has drained him of his energy, his attention span had also been wavering, affecting his ability to listen to anything being said to him. 

The others of course had been noticing, but Azriel would never talk about what had been bothering him. 

It was his own yearning for a partner, his own delusion, his secret. Nobody should know about her until he found her or was certain she existed.

Flying through Velaris he was trying to look for her, trying to find her scent. Thoughts of her consumed his day, his shadows in a frenzy themselves. He thought of her day and night. 

His emotions were high and low, he was happy one day and sad the other. He wanted to finally hold her, shower her in his love, fly with her, love her, he was craving her. His feelings and thoughts weren’t logical, he knew that, because he didn’t know her yet but he was convinced she could only be perfect. 

• •

30 minutes after Dinner Rhys called him into his office.

"There had been multiple reports from Keir. People have been disappearing - high officials, merchants, soldiers, and others. Find out where they've been going or if they are still alive," he instructed.  Azriel nodded silently, going towards the door. 

"Az, please talk to us if you’re having any issues. We are your brothers," Rhys urged, concern etched on his face.

Azriel stopped mid-step before walking out, then turned around. He managed a small smile at Rhys. "There’s nothing wrong. I'm good. I’ve just been busy," he said softly.

Rhys wasn’t buying it. His eyes were tired, his face pale, and he hadn’t shaved in a long time. His black hair was unkempt, and his shadows moved about him more protectively. Rhys knew he shouldn't assign Azriel to any missions, but Azriel had insisted on working.

• •

He needed to concentrate, otherwise, this situation could escalate further with Keir. If those involved aligned themselves to rebel or simply disappeared, it could cause trouble. He didn't care much if they were dead, his priority was finding the culprit responsible if harm had come to them.

The air in Hewn City reeked of dirt and decay, like a rotting washcloth, but Azriel's nose would quickly adjust. The Court of Nightmares lived up to its name; it was darker than the nights in Illyria, buried underneath Velaris with so few lights illuminating the unbuilt and filthy streets. 

Azriel knew this area well enough to pinpoint where most incidents occurred.

Entering Stronghold's Inn, Azriel's shadows swirled in a frenzy throughout the tavern before fixating on a female. His eyes widened as he caught her scent.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @fieldofdaisiies

A Kiss with Death - Taglist: @bubybubsters @fieldofdaisiies @sidthedollface2 @rcarbo1 @megwan @duhgurl @lilah-asteria

[femsolid]

Video games recommendation for women part 2

The same criteria as before: has to have a female lead and little to no misogyny

---

1. Shadow of the Tomb Raider

The seemingly invincible and endlessly talented Lara Croft goes on yet another adventure, this time exploring the Amazon jungle and South American ruins looking for a magical artifact hoping to prevent her enemies, an evil organisation called Trinity, from using it.

Tomb Raider is a franchise that has changed quite a bit over the years. Ever since the reboot, Lara has become a fully fledge character and she doesn't do rock climbing in a skimpy outfit anymore (which made the boys mad, boohoo).

But sadly she still suffers from her reputation of sexy girly indiana jones which I suspect is why women don't seem that interested in her. Shame!

It's not usually the type of games I like (very over the top "blockbustery") but I got hooked the minute I set foot (or rather crashed) in the Peruvian jungle. The game is visually stunning, I loved exploring all the ancient temples, the crypts, the jungle and seeing all the animals. The puzzles were challenging, the fights were fun, it was entertaining, well made, with lots of female characters and it takes place in Peru which is just the cherry on top for me.

The only thing I didn't like was Jonah but then I never liked him. He's Lara's best friend and is pretty much there to be kidnapped and rescued in every game, which is kind of a nice reversed damsel in distress trope I suppose, but still, you're useless Jonah I kept telling my screen.

2. Alien Isolation

In this game you play as Ellen Ripley's daughter who ends up trapped in a gigantic spaceship with a lethal enemy, of course, the infamous alien: the xenomorph.

This game is perfect if you are currently suffering from constipation. It doesn't rely on cheap jumpscares and gore to scare you no, it's all about the ~ambiance~. If you are found, you are dead, simple as. And you will die... A LOT. I got an achievement for dying 50 times. I was laughing hysterically whenever the alien caught me by that point and I think the alien was too.

They say "in space no one can hear you scream" but this alien can hear your footsteps so this makes for some tense gameplay, especially as the alien's AI is very good and you are extremely vulnerable. To survive you will have to be very mindful of the noises you make and the noises the alien makes. Oh yeah, you both crawl through the same ventilation system by the way. This could make for some awkward encounter... On top of having to deal with the alien you will meet androids and humans who aren't exactly friendly either. The goal is, of course, to escape from the ship alive.

I have to give the developpers props for really making us feel like we are in an Alien movie. The music, the ship's design, the alien itself, are all very faithfull to the movies and this game is rightly considered a classic.

3. Spiritfarer

In Spiritfarer you play as Stella (and her cat) who has become the captain of a boat on which she welcomes the spirits of different people who have died. She will accompany them for a while until it's time to cross the bridge and say farewell.

It's worth mentionning, given how rare it is, that the main character is a black girl. Your job is to manage the boat (make improvements to it) and become self-sustainable: you will grow your own food, build houses for each spirit and decorate it, grow trees, collect wood, fish, feed your guests. You can make a mill, a weaving workshop, a sawmill, a kitchen, a garden, etc and arrange it as you please.

Most importantly, you will travel the sea to meet new spirits, learn about their lives and fullfill their last wishes before they are ready to leave us. And then you will cry and cry and cry as the music rises and you give them one last hug.

It's a cosy game, slow paced, lots of dialogues, cute mini-games within it, and at times really funny interactions because it all looks so cute yet the characters act and talk like normal people (they told me to fuck off quite a lot) and they will often get into unprompted anti-capitalist rants. It reminded me of Spirited Away a lot, very strange and comfy at the same time.

It's a story about death, about how each person handles it, what they look back on, and yet it's a very pleasant game.

---

As usual I will add more to the list as I reblog it and, of course, if you want to recommend a game too, you're more than welcome. I've been focusing on games with female leads lately so I'll have a lot more to add.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

3 Pink Roses Mean, "I Love You"

- Nanami Kento (ch9)

synopsis: a confession from Nanami sweeps out. Nobara, being the best assistant ever, helps you pursue a new project, and Nanami comes home late one night to reassure you. A romantic date is planned where feelings blossom. Gojo is also a nosy blob.

series masterlist

For as long as he could remember, Nanami Kento had always kept his emotions under check. Never in his life had he had to control his words, except in the case of Gojo where he really, and his therapist agrees, really exhausts his limits.

The businessman keeps his emotions as generalized as he can, relying on facts rather than emotion, it's what you have to do when you're in the corporate world. The world will believe facts over sentiments any day, it's what you can prove on paper what matters. So it became a habit for him. Ever since his university years, his job managed to solidify those beliefs. Mindlessly stimulate his brain with numbers and graphs until he's just too tired to feel at the end of the day.

Too tired to function.

Two days after your progressive 'movie' night with Nanami, he wakes up earlier than usual, assuring to call out from work for a few hours. He could never not take the day off, wouldn't allow himself.

“So, Nanami, I heard you went on vacation. How did that go?” The woman in front of him smiles, resting her bullet point pen against the spine of her notebook. She doesn't write at this moment, and she knows Nanami is observing if whether or not she'll write this conversation down.

"It went well," he replies, noticing her strands of hair are a darker shade than Gojo's. "I... I went to Boston, with my partner."

“A partner?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You never mentioned you were seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” 

“How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two months.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They met in June and July was already here, so that did count as two months.

If you were stretching the truth. 

“What did the two of you do in Boston? My husband and I haven’t been to a red socks game in forever and the lobster at Neptune Oyster is to die for.” 

“We visited the Aquarium,” Nanami focuses on the patchwork of her coat, “and we took a boat tour as well.” 

“Sounds like the two of you are compatible.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“You strike me as a relaxed fellow, Nanami. I’m sure your partner is the same? Unless she’s more enthusiastic, of course.” she holds a knowing smile, “because I could see that working out.”

“She’s…" Nanami searches for the words, "smart, well intentioned, independent, compassionate...”

“Sounds like a determined woman if you ask me.” the professional points out with a short chuckle. “It also sounds like she’s someone special because I’ve never heard you talk so highly about anyone. Not like your co-worker,” she notices Nanami roll his eyes, making her bite back a smile.

“Has this partner positively affected your day-to-day life?” 

“She makes me look forward to coming back home,” he replies. 

“Oh, so the two of you live together?”

Nanami freezes, fuck. 

“We... uh… we made the decision to move in before Boston…”

“So is that like a honeymoon thing?” she asks, genuinely curious, “Because I know younger people like to skip the-”

“-It was just for fun,” he quickly clarifies, “the trip.” and the word fun rolls off his tongue with such foreignness that even he can feel a shift in the room.

A moment passes by before the woman smiles at him.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” she says before adjusting a photo of her with a young man, Nanami presumes, no older than 21 wearing a cap and gown. 

“That’s my son,” she grins, following Nanami's eyes, unashamed to show off her son, “Michael, 21. Graduated in Economics from NYU. I believe you were a student there as well?”

“Only for Law.”

“Oh, so you’re a Lawyer?”

“No." He shakes his head, "I dropped after my 2nd year.”

“Change of career?”

“More like change of life,” he answers dryly, “My… my father was a Lawyer, and he owned a law firm of his own…”

“Then... what happened?"

"I… I’m not a good person," Nanami's voice feels caught through his windpipes. It is only then when Nanami decides to take the covers off. He thinks that if he were ever to unveil such personal detail of his life, then everyone around him would flee, and see him as the bastard he deserves to be called.

"I’m not a good person because... I ruined someone’s life."

“This is a lovely painting," Nobara sighs in content, "tell me, where in the world did your boyfriend buy this for you?”

As you and your interior designer admired your painting from the living room, you couldn’t help but stiffen as she was not aware of any arrangements you had with Nanami, like the fact the two of you slept in separate bedrooms. Nobara had suggested you hang the painting in your ‘shared’ bedroom', but the idea was immediately thrown out the window along with placing the painting in the hallway. 

“It was at an auction in Boston,” the palm of your hand rests on the back of your neck, “I actually didn’t know it was an auction until Nanami and I reached the end of the art gallery.”

“Wow, so you’re telling me he had to bargain for this baby?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“-Did he compete with anyone? What was the starting bid?” You could see the apparent interest in her voice that made your cheeks warm. Nobara’s passion for art and design peeked through the cracks of her voice, dying for an answer. 

“It was a starting bid of $12,500 and there was just one bidder apart from him.”

“How much did he pay for it?” she asked. 

“$25,000 dollars.” 

The realization of your confession didn’t sink until after Nobara’s widened eyes. You lucky girl! No wonder why you were so quiet and against putting this baby in your bedroom! You want your guests to see this work! 

Nobara’s hands were freshly moisturized that you could see the glistening lotion through the sun’s rays hitting her skin. The large windows to your shared apartment were expansive, granting you and anyone who stepped foot into your home an impressive view of San Francisco. Large buildings, primarily from tech-related businesses to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. If you tilted your head a little more to the right, you could see the full bridge, but you stood place as you heard Nobara’s words of excitement for you. 

“I can’t believe this marks the end of our project, I was really hoping to do more, but-”

“-wait,” you stop her, “maybe there is. I’ve been wanting to do something, but I’d like your word on it. C-can I take you upstairs? To the rooftop, that is?”

That day, you learned that it was possible to impress Nobara Kugisaki with your words, allowing her into your home was already a delight for her, so you would only hope she would accept your idea as you took her to the rooftop of the building.

“It’s a bit dusty up here,” you admit, “who knows when the last time anyone came up here was, but can we fix this? Maybe add a small furniture piece or even fairy lights?”

“We can do that,” Nobara softly kicked the leg of one of the abandoned plastic chairs with the point of her boot. She turned to you. 

“By when do you want this complete?”

“Before the 4th of July.”

“That’s possible...” she contemplates, “...but I do want one thing.” 

Your eyes widen at her first ever request, “what is it?”

"Take a picture with Nanami outside," she smiles. "I'll check when the best hour for firework sightings is, but I'm pretty sure this rooftop has one of the best views in San Franciso." She suggests, possibly reading your mind, "Plan a picnic with him out here, get all romantic, and enjoy yourself. That's all I want to see- a happy couple in love."

Her words make you blush, filling your heart with hope, and maybe something more. This idea could work. You could do something special for Nanami, make his day worth something, and fulfill your obvious role as his fake girlfriend. But were you taking your role too seriously? You could care less, focusing instead on the details for Saturday. Hopeful for a successful... date?

"A little birdie told me someone's turning a year older todayy," Gojo's words echoed as Nanami worked in his desk, arriving to his desk, Satoru plops down a party hat, a few decorative birthday accessories that were probably way too much, and a birthday candle- the kind that exaggeratingly lights up like a firework.

A few days after Nanami's appointment, he had been extra cordial around you. And as expected, he was not home during the hours you were up, either leaving too early or arriving too late. He was thankful for your understanding, and the lunch break messages would now appear every 2-3 days. Nanami figured you were either giving him the space he needed, or you were too busy to message. Either way, he was grateful no one had made a big deal about this as much.

"So tell me," Gojo leans forward and rests his elbows on top of Nanami's paperwork, "What will Nanami Kento do tonight? Does he have a date? Is he seeing his girlfriend?"

Knowing he was striking a chord, Nanami grunts, giving him a displeased look until he freezes, noting the small loaf of banana bread he would frequent from his favorite bakery. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "How did you know."

"It's easy to figure out your birthday, also Facebook has these crazy reminders- you should try them out. The other day I forgot it was my Grandma's birthday and that website came in clut-"

"-I didn't need to know all of that information," Nanami says, then sighs, "but... thank you."

Astonished by his oddly accepting demeanor, Satoru's eyes widen. "Wait- don't tell me- did something happen with your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfr-"

"-Side chick,"

"She's not a side chick."

"Okay... uh... friends with benefits?"

"I'm offended you think I might even consider that,"

"Okay, sheesh." Satoru huffs a piece of stray hair from his forehead, "Lady friend," he hears no complaint from Nanami and Satoru takes this as a silent victory. "I assume you guys are going out?"

"In this weekend?" Nanami questions, "it's a holiday, traffic is horrible, and I'd rather stay in."

"God," Satoru makes a noise of disgust, "I forgot how boring you can be. Let's hope Mrs. Lady-Friend makes something out of this," he says as he now stands, leaning against the desk. A long moment passes as he now eyes the banana loaf.

"Now give me a smile because I've got to take a photo with my best co-worker buddy,"

It isn't until past 11 when Nanami comes home exhausted that he notices you're still miraculously up. With a bun of messy hair, the laptop charger sitting under on the table gives him the impression that you've been here for some time. “You came.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You didn’t.” you exhale, “I figured you’d show up.”

Nanami suddenly feels her stare at him harder, “Whose birthday was it?”

“Huh?" he asks before looking down at his chest, crap. He forgot to take off the decorations Satoru made him wear. Both a party hat and birthday shoulder sling decorate his upper body.

"A-a coworker of mine wanted to celebrate my birthday.” he awkwardly stands.

“It... it’s your birthday?” 

“It’s fine,” he regrets saying it was his birthday now, “I-I even forgot it was my own.”

“But I didn’t know,” she mutters to herself in self-disappointment. “I… I should have asked…”

“It’s fine, we never really got to that part in our relationship.”

“But I should have known,” she defends with a slight frown, “It’s… it’s my job to make this relationship feel easy-” He suddenly cuts you off.

“-This is not a job that should feel like it’s a burden. It’s not your fault. Blame me too, I don’t know your birthday either.”

“But you’re always so busy…”

Not for you, he wants to say. Instead, he takes a step forward, placing his hands at the sides of her arms in reassurance. This is what couples do, right?

“Don’t give yourself a headache over this.” He tells you, your breathing deepens when his hands massage her arms. Nanami notices you're uncertain by the way she turns to her feet.

“Look at me,” he softly says.

“None of this was under your control.”

Taking you by surprise, he presses your body against his, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, and your face buries itself on his chest. 

“I know," you breathe, " ’m sorry.” 

“Why on earth are you apologizing for?”

"I don't know... I feel like I failed you.''

"There's no way you failed me, sweet girl." he says, softly placing a gentle hand on the back of your head as you lean against him, eyes closed and mind too full to notice what was going on right now. "I should've discussed holidays and birthdays with you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to become so taxing for you." glancing down towards you he speaks once more. "How about we do something this weekend, hm? go out?"

"Mhm," you hum, feeling him pull you closer, not saying anything yet as you had plans and surprises in store for him. ''You came late today."

"I did,"

“Will you be working tomorrow?” a gleam of hope surpasses your eyes, “it’ll be the 4th.”

Nanami shrugs, “I fail to see how that’s a holiday worth celebrating given this country’s historical and current standing.” he pauses, face softening, “but I’ll make an exception. Did you have something planned already?”

“Sorta,” you bite the inside your cheek, “but it doesn’t have to 4th of July focused, we can just celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “so what did you have in mind?”

“Can’t tell you,” you smile, “it’s a surprise.”

He chuckles, "Of course. Well... I'll be off tomorrow at 4, will that work for you?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Very well," you can't really see if the corner of his lip tugs upwards in the dim light, but you imagine it does by the sound of his voice. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," you breathe, breathless almost. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

As he makes his way towards his room, he thinks, for you? this is nothing.

a/n: I am terrible with taglists. I promise I will redo them. let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged/removed.

tag list: @mishroses @musegonemad @sweetteez @kachowness @summerli-u @r0ses4ndlilies @justoutheretrynaread @citrusteaa @fic-for-readers

previous // next

[t0ribird]

Pirate AU DKBK

I had a sudden Pirate brainrot while drawing the Winter AU. You don't have to read this, saves me the embarrassment. I don't really know where to start in explaining?? Basically Izuku(8) is a prince from a fallen kingdom, was then take under a pirates wing (All Might, a super legendary criminally heroic pirate.) They live in the sea on the ship, One for All. She's a super gorgeous ship with their flag having the ✧ ofa kinda symbol you see in the manga. It's not a scary flag but it does carry a reputation and a promise! "I am here!" A warning or a reassurance, depends on the case. Izuku gets mentored by like everyone on the boat no matter how big or small their teachings are. Grows up with the same good morals and happiness he would've gotten with his biological mother.

Then there is AFO Kingdom, where it looks peaceful but it's got some real shady stuff going around in the shadows. Once in a blue moon you'll hear about a case where a random civilian goes rampage and the king always manages to sweep it under a rug. The king being , AFO Shigaraki in arranged marriage with Bakugou Mitsuki. Mitsuki fell in love with Masaru and had BKG. AFO didn't really care as long as he was able to yk brainwash the kid, but it turns out that BKG is a stubborn kid and had morals passed down lmao. So AFO had adopted in Tomura a little after. The Bakugous then are slowly AND mysteriously taken down one by one after no longer being useful. So Katsuki(15) HAD to find a way to escape before he was next. Especially after accidentally uncovering the strange drugs the king was trafficking. BTW Bkg was kept weak by the king and was denied any swordsmanship, he tried learning by himself but it only resulted in busted wrists. Thats when he stumbled on a strange boy after being chased. The boy with a savior complex sweeps him away without even knowing the fact that HE was a runaway prince. Then begins his life at sea. Jazz hands. I actually have so much more to say but this probably doesn't even make sense.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Love At First Bite

Summary: Catching a stunning creature from the depths of the ocean triggers new emotions in a fisherman.

Story inspired by this amazing artwork. (@fancyhdraws)

Ao3 version.

My ask.

Enjoy!

A fisherman was out on his fishing boat, casting his rod into the briny blue waters of the sea as he hoped to reel in a really big catch.

For him, fishing was a pleasurable activity for sure, but it was also quite intricate due to factors that were beyond his control, such as the shifting behaviors of the fish.

There were days when it was simple to capture and release them, but there were also days when they resisted and succeeded in fleeing.

However, the man knew that the hobby he loved required great patience.

As he continued to wait for a fish to bite down on his bait, the man felt a tug on his rod and immediately let out a soft gasp.

He quickly attempted to reel in the fish he had caught, tipping up his rod as it slightly bent due to the weight of the fish, which he noted was unusually heavy.

Finally, when he managed to bring his catch to the surface, a woman with a long, scaly, blue tail flashed across his vision.

As he kept making eye contact with her, he noticed her light blue irises and was astonished to see her slitted pupils.

She was definitely a mermaid, no doubt.

Her wet, light pink hair matched the brightness of her smile as she finished swallowing the tasty worm she had caught on the hook.

She removed the angle from her mouth and smiled at the man.

Despite his inability to say anything to the aquatic woman due to his slight shock, the man slowly gave her a smile and waved timidly at her, causing her to giggle and wave back at him.

Taking in the mermaid's appearance, he saw how beautiful she was, her face resembling that of an angel.

The mermaid, doing the same with the human man's appearance, starts to feel her cheeks grow warm.

She had no idea that a human could be so handsome.

What this love at first sight for the both of them?

...

By the rocky shore at night, as the port city lights shone, the fisherman and mermaid happily conversed, exuding giggles and showing interest while sharing stories about their respective worlds.

The man, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a gift shop ornament shaped like a sea star and offered it as a gift to the mermaid.

The mermaid's cheeks are illuminated with pink as she slowly takes the offering, feeling utterly touched by it.

Storing the star safely within her lilac-colored seashell bra, the mermaid emits a small gasp, and her eyes light up as she dives back into the sea.

The man was puzzled by her sudden disappearance and briefly jolted when the mermaid suddenly popped her head back up the surface, but he was happy to see her face again.

He couldn't help but smile, his chest swelling in excitement as the mermaid held her balled fist out and slowly opened it to reveal... a small crab sitting on her palm.

Slowly leaning forward to take a closer look at the crab, the man nearly gets his nose pinched by the crustacean as it crawls off of the mermaid's hand and wastes no time hurrying back into the sea.

The eyes of the mermaid widened.

Just when she was about to make a swift apology to the man, she saw him let out a laugh, and her expression soon softened as she felt her body relax.

She proceeded to join him in laughter, glad to have made his smile bigger.

...

The next day, the mermaid breathed in the salty sea air as she leaned against the fisherman's boat.

He tossed her a few of the wriggling worms in his bucket, and she caught them all perfectly in her mouth.

A pleasant afternoon treat for his beloved.

Next, the man cracked open his crate and began to dig around in it.

In a moment's time, he presented another treat: a piece of dry hardtack.

With pride, he extended it to the mermaid, as if it were a brilliant stone or an iridescent fish.

Although they were bland, he had a fondness for them.

Breaking the saltless biscuit in half, he shared the other piece with the mermaid.

They both took bites, smiling and chewing in delight.

After swallowing, the mermaid signals to the man to follow her into the ocean to spend some time together.

She was overjoyed to show him around the place she called home.

However, with a crestfallen smile, the man shakes his head and politely declines the offer.

As the mermaid tilts her head in confusion, blinking and wondering why, the man points to his chest and explains to her that it would be impossible for him to breathe down there.

Upon hearing this, the mermaid sighs unhappily and nods her head in understanding as she slowly sinks back into the depths.

As he watched her and her smile vanish from his sight, the man could feel his delighted demeanor take off as well, his shoulders drooping.

His heart grew heavy as he gazed at the spot where she had once been.

He longingly wished for a way to visit her down there.

Was there a way?

...

The mermaid swam alone back to the seabed with a bemoaning expression on her face, sighing out a bubble of air that floated.

She was alone with her thoughts of wishing to be with her love.

Suddenly, she heard something swimming behind her and soon felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Swiftly spinning around, the mermaid spotted a stranger in a weighted and hermetically sealed garment with a helmet made of copper on their head.

The stranger's warm embrace caught the mermaid off guard.

Taking a glance into the circular window of the stranger's helmet, the mermaid quickly gasped, her spirits soaring when she saw none other than the handsome face of the fisherman inside.

The mermaid reached forward and cupped the sides of his helmet, her hands lightly brushing against the rusty, red-brown metal as she planted gentle kisses on the window.

The man, sinking his fingers into her silky hair during their kiss, allowed her to do so, showing his affection as well.

Their happiness was shared as they realized that their relationship could now work both above and below the sea.

[artyandink]

Just a little thing from the entirety of my heart:

I have only started properly writing on just Tumblr since a few months ago (haven’t kept count really), but I started an account a few years ago. But in that time, I’ve managed to grow as a writer and a person, got a lot more feedback and followers and publicity (don’t know what to call it otherwise) and it’s absolutely amazing.

I’m not as technically skilled or organised as some of the other absolutely goddamn brilliant writers on here, but I can tell you that I’m so grateful for everything that y’all have done to build my little space here.

I’ve struggled a lot over the years, with depression, anxiety, some degree of Autism Spectrum Disorder and have had some great difficulty with socialising and keeping real friends, which is a bummer. But fanfiction, writing, original fiction- it’s all an out for me. To be someone who I’m not, to escape from everything in the outside world and have one more where people look at me and think ‘wow, she’s so cool’ and out there it’s ‘ew, she’s so socially awkward’ because my social battery doesn’t replenish very easily and I tend to expect the worst.

Now, I know you don’t want to listen to my rant about my hardships, so here’s a selection of people that I wanna thank for making me more confident and more skilled as a writer just in general, which I absolutely appreciate (even if you aren’t mentioned in this list, I absolutely love y’all who support me as a writer):

@zepskies - You’re such an amazing writer here, you deserve every bit of support and love that you get from your readers because you’re truly a natural writer and such an amazing person in general. I only improved after analysing your writing and putting it into practical use. Also, your writing’s like self-therapy for me. You should be really proud of yourself (and this goes for everyone). @k-slla - Same for you, Kerly! Another thing was that I saw you about on Tumblr, and we found each other but you helped bring me out of my shell and gave me the support that I needed, and I’m forever grateful for that. @waynes-multiverse - Wayne, you were one of the first writers to give me your feedback on my first proper, thought out series here on Tumblr and I’m so glad you did, cause I met an amazing person and got to see your brilliant work, again something that I took inspiration from. @jackles010378 - You, my friend, are such a good hype person! You also tagged me in the little ‘get to know you’ posts, and otherwise I’d be a socially awkward hermit, so I am indebted to you for it. Keep on doing what you’re doing and including me even if my social battery hasn’t charged. It’ll shoot up to 100% ;) @angelbabyyy99 - Thalia, I bow down to you and your ability to write CJ. And you’ve reviewed my latest fics and it hyped me up so much that after a section of writer’s block induced by being horribly ill, I’m banging out fics in a day or two that previously would take me weeks. So glad you found me, and I hope you stick around, lovely! @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - You’re such a good writer, and I recently found out that you were/are/could be in the same boat I am, and I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. To know that this isn’t a battle I’m fighting alone meant everything and I can’t thank you enough for sharing your struggles with everyone.

That was pretty heartfelt, but I felt like I had to say it otherwise my heart would burst from being so goddamn happy that I found my community.

The SPN community is so goddamn nice?!?!

Love, Arty 💜

[crissiebaby]

Sissy's First Date: Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: This POV story contains diaper usage, forced crossdressing, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

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

The small, two-seater boat bobbed and buckled as Becca and I boarded the vessel. Planting both feet on the creaky, wooden floor, I extended a hand back to Becca. “Why thank you, my dear, Cherry,” she said, adding a bit of snootiness to her tone for comedic effect.

Playing along, I responded, “Of course, my lady,” as I helped to lower Becca into her seat. I was happy to have our happy-go-lucky energy back. My heart fluttered as I pressed my skirt to the rear of my diaper to sit, and I wasn’t certain if it was due to the overwhelming levels of girliness, the sheer amount of squishiness, or the fact that I was cozied up with Becca in a very compact space. Though, deep down, I was pretty sure it was a bit of all three.

“Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. The use of flash photography is not permitted at any time. Thank you and enjoy the tunnel of love,” said the woman operating the ride, doing her best to sound enthusiastic after repeating the same phrase for the past several hours.

*BONK!*

The mechanism holding the boat in place unlatched, casting us off into open waters. It took no time at all for the boat to reach its gradual max speed as we were shoved along the slow-moving stream. Light receded from the mouth of the tunnel behind us whilst the growing darkness of the tunnel ahead and the slight breeze of air conditioning sprouted goosebumps up and down my forearms. The chilly air had me wanting to wrap an arm around Becca’s shoulder, both for warmth and romance. However, my plans were dashed as my date beat me to the punch, nestling me under her wing and squeezing me delicately into her torso.

A sense of fuzziness transcended upon me, overwhelming me with pure femininity. How such a simple action managed to make me feel so small and effeminate I will never understand.

Before long, the pitch-black tunnel began to illuminate as we entered the first room on our journey. Soft, ambient pop music from the 70s played overhead that paired well with the decor, which looked as though it hadn’t been updated since around the same era. Countless red and pink hearts were scattered about along the walls and strung up haphazardly, giving off the feeling that we’d been shrunken down and stuffed inside a box of conversation hearts. A minor disappointment, though I can’t say I was expecting much from a county fair attraction.

It’s not like the ride itself was where my focus was anyway. Right now, all of my attention was being dedicated to the padded beauty seated beside me. Not wanting to appear too eager, I kept my head forward, electing to use my peripheral vision to steal glances at Becca any chance I could. From her luscious lips to the way her wavy hair curled around her ear, every inch of her being was a masterpiece.

“Heh, ya know, you can do more than just look…if you want,” said Becca, drawing attention to the extended silence that had existed between us since our boat embarked. It took me a few seconds to process what she said, adding a smidge of extra blush to my face once her words finally clicked. This gave Becca even more of an opening to tease me at will. She leaned in closer, placing a hand on the top side of my thigh, “Aw, was my sweet baby hoping I’d make the first move? Hehe! You really are just a sissy baby gi-”

Suddenly, a blackness far darker than the tunnel’s entrance overtook my vision. All I could feel was a surge of electricity enveloping my lips, accompanied by a foreign, yet inexplicably pleasant plushness. It was as if my mouth was pressed against two soft, wet clouds. I let out a brief, sultry moan as I squinted my eyes open, only to be greeted by Becca’s eyes a mere inch from my own.

*Mwah!*

Pulling away, I raised my hand to my mouth, unable to shake the burning tingle that lingered from our first real kiss as a couple. I was practically in shock over my own boldness. What had I just done?! “O-Oh, my Goddess! I’m sorry! I d-don’t know what came over-” was all I got out before Becca ripped my hand away from my face and smashed her kisser into mine for a second time. The tip of her tongue stabbed at the crease of my mouth, demanding to be allowed in. I obediently parted my lips and let her have her way with me orally.

Unsurprisingly, this wasn’t the only way that Becca planned to have her way with me as the hand that she strategically positioned on my leg finally came into play. The tips of her fingers tickled my skin as she made her slow approach toward my soft, sensitive inner thigh. They pushed another moan out of me, this one much less restrained. I could feel my squelchy diaper molding around my ripening dick as it grew and made itself known.

“Uh oh, is that for me?” cooed Becca, her lips separating from mine as she explored the rest of my face and neck with her mouth. Meanwhile, her hands were continuing to forge their own expedition as her knuckles brushed against the underside of my nappy, taunting me with anticipation.

My entire body was radiating euphoria as we exited the floating hearts room and entered a more narrow corridor with blue-painted walls that had sparkly lights twinkling all around us. Paired alongside the slow-moving stream’s reflection, it was as if we were drifting through space together. Water rippled around the exterior of the boat with our passionate makeout session acting as an epicenter. “Mmmm! Do you hear all those yummy sloshing sounds? How’s about we make a few of those ourselves?” she said, her hand leaping off my lap and mashing itself into my pointed diaper. I would’ve screamed out in pleasure if her lips hadn’t sealed themselves to mine.

Weakened by her touch, I let my spine go lax and leaned back in my seat. Becca was now in complete control, a thought that served to multiply my arousal. This gave Becca the green light to shift herself onto my legs, causing the boat to rock tremendously. Once she got settled into place, she leaned in and whispered next to my ear, “I’d say I’ve teased you enough for today. Don’t want my baby getting all pent up, after all.”

“Mhmm,” I mumbled meekly, worried that I’d be too loud if I opened my mouth for even so much as a millisecond. Utilizing every ounce of strength I still possessed, I raised my arms around Becca and began caressing her hair. It was so incredibly soft. My fingers soon got lost in her locks, never wanting to leave such a silky oasis.

Becca, however, had bigger plans for my hands. Without warning, she grabbed onto my left wrist with her free hand and pulled my hand down to her chest. The instant my open palm made contact with her spongy tit flesh, all thoughts toward resisting vanished. “Ah! S-So soft!” I stuttered, my voice echoing around the star-filled landscape.

I was lucky to have Becca above me to press her hand to my mouth, suppressing my volume. “Shhhh! Don’t want the fun to end early, do we?” she asked, prompting me to shake my head back and forth in a flurry. This made her giggle but I didn’t care. I never wanted this to end and I didn’t care how much Becca knew that.

The starry corridor eventually came to an end, giving way to the Tunnel of Love’s final room. It was a brightly lit cityscape that was lined wall to wall with dolls that were matched up in couples. Some dolls were doing the kind of things people often do on dates such as dancing, ice skating, and eating at a fancy restaurant. But the majority of them were simply holding hands with each other. It was definitely weird and a little creepy to have so many eyes staring at us amid our heated embrace. Thankfully, it did nothing to derail the sexy fun Becca and I were having, especially now that we were in position to take our fun to the next level.

Bending her knees at my sides, Becca eased herself forward onto my lap and pressed her mooshy padding into mine with her hand coddling my cock in between. Unlike our first time humping diapers, I was only wearing two layers of padding. And while the added layers did make things a heck of a lot squishier, every diaper also dulled the external sensations considerably. This meant that I was defenseless as Becca’s soggy, mushy diaper butt mooshed into my lap while her delicate fingers diddled my nappy-swaddled dick. My reaction was nigh instantaneous.

“Ooh! Fuuuuuck!” I screamed with my tongue resting on my bottom lip as I shot hot semen into my cold water diaper. My feet shot upward and kicked the wooden plank in front of me, splashing water up between the boat and the wall of the river as we ebbed and weaved. I instinctively reached down and grabbed the side of the boat, only realizing that I’d let go of Becca a moment too late.

With one hand planted on my diaper and the other struggling to cling to the fabric of my dress, Becca had nothing to support her weight as the boat continued to bounce. She attempted to shuffle off my lap so that she could steady herself better but couldn’t manage to squeeze her arm out from between my diaper and her hips before her balance was completely lost. I attempted to save her at the last second by grabbing onto her as she fell but all she ended up doing was dragging me down with her.

“WoooOOOAH!”

*SPLASH!*

In a single, swift motion, our boat capsized, sending us both tumbling into the bed of water below. The knee-high fluid quickly swarmed around us, pouring into our diapers until they were filled to their maximum capacities and soaking each of our dresses thoroughly. I scrambled to climb to my feet, aiming to help Becca do the same. Tragically, I did not account for the increased weight of my waterlogged diaper, sending me toppling over Becca and drenching us for a second time.

Laughing in bursts between surfacings, Becca was in complete hysterics over our damp predicament. She swung her arm at the water in front of me, splashing me with a faceful of murky liquid. “And here I thought today couldn’t get any better,” she joked as she staggered to her feet, revealing her supremely sodden pulp balloon to me. Seeing her lewd body in such a swollen nappy with her clothes hugging her form was the absolute definition of beauty.

“You like what you see?” said Becca, peeking over her shoulder and catching me gawking. It was as if she could sense my gaze. Giggling at me as I nodded yes with my eyes wide as dinner plates, she extended her hand down and yanked me to my feet, “Fear not, I’ll give you plenty of time to see all that you want soon enough.” She punctuated her sentence by booping me on the nose, something that I couldn’t help but notice was turning into a habit.

Leaning in close, I could already feel my body compelling me to kiss Becca again. Her lips were just too addictive. “I can’t wait,” I said tenderly, pressing my chest and sopping diapers into hers as I stared into her entrancing eyes, “But I already see everything I want to.”

A line of red emerged across Becca’s nose and cheeks as well. I loved the way she blushed. I wouldn’t get the chance to see it for long, sadly, as she immediately moved to cover up her romantic embarrassment with a fiery kiss.

“Hey! We’ve got a boat with no passengers over here!” shouted the woman working the Tunnel of Love, her booming voice perfectly audible from outside the dolly room.

Becca and I snickered through the end of our kiss. “I think we should probably go,” I said, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before an awkward encounter with the boat behind us.

“Eh, we’re getting banned for this anyway. So just kiss me, dummy,” stated Becca, ignoring the annoyance of the worker running the ride and continuing to pound her lips into mine. All the while, the only thought that kept repeating in my mind was that I couldn’t imagine anyone having a better first date than this.

THE END.

« PREVIOUS l FIRST

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[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML AU idea: Lady of Second Chances (Season 1)

-I covered origins, so I figured I might as well cover how the season goes with a basically fully realized Ladybug.

-Ladybug started making charms early on.

-So Marinette is several times more mature and experienced than her previous self.

-It’s mainly just Marinette Preventing akuma when possible

-Stormy weather happens because nothing Marinette could do to stop that. So that episode is basically the same.

-Marinette has to remind herself that chat noir is still new to the hero thing.

-Lady Wifi still happens but Marinette debates telling Alya earlier or not after.

-Evillustrator happens with almost no changes. Except that Marinette’s plan worked with some slight tweaks. And it ended on the boat. Chloe did manage to get Sabrina back on her side though since Marinette was focusing on her plan.

-Chat noir asked for a reward for doing well guarding Marinette. Ladybug humored him with a pat on the head.

-Dark Cupid happens but because Marinette stepped in and stopped Kim from getting embarrassed. She made sure to ask who the girl was. Alya and Marinette managed to talk Kim out of it. He ended up getting sad because of it. Kim does realize Marinette and Alya were right. So that’s a positive. And ladybug wastes no time because she knows she has to kiss chat noir. (She may have been over enthusiastic)

-Copy cat doesn’t happen because Marinette made an effort not to leave a message. Saying she will try again another time. So she showed up at the statue unveiling and Chat noir didn’t get jealous, Theo got his autograph and everything was chill. No jelly kitty and no copy cat.

-Bubbler happens, but Marinette made 2 gifts. Because she remembered that the scarf will be mistaken as a gift from his father. So she made sure to keep that part the same way. But prepared a Different gift, this time with her name signed and stitched in. Marinette also made sure it matched the scarf, but not in an obvious way. Adrien loved the gift, thanking Marinette. Alya asked how she knew Adrien would not realize the scarf gift was from her. “I forgot to sign it” Alya jokes that she’s psychic

-Chronogirl/Timebreaker doesn’t happen because Marinette says She will hold the watch. Knowing how breaking it would be bad. So that’s prevented.

-Rogercop, Mr.Pigeon, The Pharoah, The Mime, pixalator and Guitar villain are all the same. Since Marinette couldn’t prevent them from happening.

-princess fragrance: Marinette had to help Tikki so it happened. Marinette did her best not to just hug Fu after seeing him. She knew it wasn’t the right time. So she kept her mouth shut.

-Reflekta Marinette could have prevented but she knows how the later pictures helped Juleka so she lets it play out the same way.

-the episode Kung food happens but Marinette’s uncle isn’t akumatized. So Marinette knows she’s struggling but she tells Alya she will ask Adrien for help. Alya is proud of her for taking the step. Adrien is more than happy to help and since Marinette isn’t surprised this time, she is better prepared (plus over the previous timeline she had been working more on her mandarin, so that helped) Chloe gets akumatized and become “The Critic” but she gets her butt whooped.

-Darkblade happens but Marinette warns her mom in advance about Sabrina. So Sabrina can’t even get into the house and returns in failure. Also Marinette is more bold in her campaign (Sabrina voted for her in secret)

-Animan happens, Marinette ENSURED everything happened the same way so Alya and Nino ended up together.

-Horrificator happened, but this time Marinette and Adrien did kiss. Since Marinette locked the door so Chloe didn’t ruin the shot. (Marinette forgot that this day resulted in horrificator. As she was distracted.

-So Gamer doesn’t happen, Marinette sees the tournament they were doing and asks if she could play since she liked the game. She smoked Adrien and Max. The class suggests she competes but she declines, but would be happy to give them pointers. Which Max and Adrien agree. (While max is a bit grumpy about losing he is still gonna compete so he’s not akumatizable) and Marinette coaches then both at her place. Max and Adrien both being polite and accepting of the treats. It’s not as romantic as Marinette would have liked but Adrien and her do get a few moments. Max and Adrien win the tournament, and they give the trophy to Marinette who coached them.

-Simon says happens but with 50% more ladrien.

-Antibug doesn’t happen because Marinette remembered not to snap at her. And encouraged her to make amends with Sabrina. Since at this time Chloe looked up to ladybug.

-Volpina. So Marinette remembers what happened when she confronted Lila the first time. But she also needs to make photo copies of the book. So Marinette takes a different approach.

-Marinette runs into them at the library. As the Class rep she has a right to introduce herself to a new student. Lila has to smile and pretend like she isn’t getting C-blocked by Marinette. Adrien talking highly of Marinette also pisses Lila off.

-Tikki snuck the book and Lila ended up without it. Also because of Marinette’s interruption, there was no after school park date. Lila was annoyed.

-Marinette quickly got pictures of everything in the book and before school ended, gave the book back to Adrien. Saying she found it by his chair and was wondering if it was his.

-Relieved, Adrien thanked Marinette for finding the book, he didn’t realize it was missing. He headed back home.

-Marinette now had everything she needed and headed to Fu’s place.

-Lila decides to try again with Adrien later but no akumatization.

-Marinette is excited to meet Fu for real.

-Adrien does find himself thinking about Marinette a LOT more after the movie kiss (which technically was their first kiss now). But ladybug is also more flirty with chat noir (and with Adrien) so Boy may be a bit more conflicted

[my-mt-heart]

Thoughts on the Opening Minutes of TBOC

Below the cut in case people don't want spoilers. Also issuing a trigger warning because I'm including screenshots of the sides for that Daryl and Isabelle scene so I could go over what changed (and more importantly why it changed). Please keep in mind that if you are excited about everything you've seen this weekend, you deserve to hold onto it. I kindly ask that you just keep scrolling because this post isn't for you. If you're open to some critical thinking, maybe this will resonate. Either way, please allow everyone the space to feel what they're feeling. It's all valid.

The first thing I want to flag is that, though I didn't watch the opening minutes on AMC+, I'm aware that they used a Daryl thumbnail and kept the title as TWD: Daryl Dixon. If the purpose of S2 is to highlight Carol's return and focus on her side of the story, why isn't AMC trying harder to sell her? She can absolutely carry a show and boost the ratings, but they'll only be able to capitalize on that if they promote her to the fullest. The deliberate choice to exclude her where it makes a difference is baffling to me, or at least it would be if I didn't already know they care too much about catering to a specific male demographic who don't connect with Carol or even Daryl for that matter.

Melissa is amazing in all her scenes. She can communicate so much about Carol's headspace as she looks out at the broken boats, contemplating the distance between her and Daryl. The performance is so simple and yet so charged. Not a doubt in my mind that she is meant to co-lead this show, that there is no show without Carol’s side of the story to ground Daryl’s. The problem is that the writing just isn’t matching up. There should be substance to all of the material Melissa’s given, and at least in the opening minutes, there just isn't. I hate that the beat of her finding what she thinks is Daryl's walker got cut because that's a much clearer visual of what's at stake for Carol. She can't lose him. I love how Daryl's bike and crossbow are used to highlight a spiritual connection between them, but I hate how lazy it feels without insight into how and when Carol picked up those skills. Yeah, I can make headcanons for myself, but I'm so tired of twisting myself in knots to find the connective tissue when its the showrunner's job to give it to me so that the story flows better.

Same goes for Daryl's scenes. We understand that Daryl has "people" back home and Carol is "one" of them as it says in the script:

One of those people. CAROL PELETIER. Riding Daryl's motorcycle. As we left her (Ep. 106).

And we're meant to take the transition from Daryl saying "wondering if they're still thinking about me" to Carol on his bike as reassurance that "people" he's thinking about are not only thinking about him as well, "people" are also on their way to find him. But it doesn't tell us what Daryl's relationship with Carol means to him and without that, the storytelling becomes really uneven. Carol is putting all this effort into finding him because she misses him and she worries about him while Daryl stays ambiguous. It just makes me sad for Carol, more so when Greg Nicotero says that Daryl has no idea she's coming and that he may be too attached to his manipulative French family by the time she gets there. Is it baiting? Yeah, maybe, but I don't like that TPTB are making us sit with the unsettling feeling that Daryl might have to choose between her and the new family, trying to use our anxiety to get us to watch. It's unethical. I'm not okay with it.

Over a year ago, a page from 201 leaked online, and a few fans managed to save it before it was deleted. It included two scenes. The first, I already mentioned above, a scene where Carol is riding Daryl's bike, sees a walker that looks like Daryl, and fearfully goes to see if it really is him before riding off again. It got cut. Shouldn't have, but scenes that Caryl fans would enjoy are always the first to go for some reason. The other one made it to screen. It's the scene where Daryl and Isabelle are talking and he doesn't know if he's meant to be at the Nest/in France. It reads like this (trigger warning):

DARYL: How's that Kool-aid taste?

But Isabelle doesn't get the reference.

DARYL (CONT'D): I'm not sure this is where I'm supposed to be.

Isabelle scrutinizes Daryl. And even though she's afraid of the answer, she has to ask.

ISABELLE: You don't think you could be happy here?

DARYL: I dunno. Could you?

ISABELLE: ...Yes. I could.

If...what? A charged beat. It's clear there are feelings. They hold a look.

DARYL: The longer I'm away...the longer they're waiting for me. Wondering if I'm still alive.

Isabelle nods. Sympathetic to the fact that he has people as we cut to:

On screen, Daryl's dialogue is slightly different. There is no Kool-aid reference (thank god) or a "dunno" line to suggest he's conflicted. His last line addresses an insecurity that he's been forgotten, which ties back to Carol saying on the radio that he didn't need to worry about her, the implication in Daryl's head being that she was fine without him. His line sets up the transition to Carol, who is definitely not fine without him. Overall, I think the revisions make Isabelle's feelings more ambiguous (though there are enough cues to interpret that they're there if anybody chooses to, especially with the score) while Daryl is more adamant that he wants to go home. They aren't in the same frame when they "hold a look," which reduces the "charged" energy between them. So this is a good thing, right? The changes mean we got riled up for no reason?

No. The changes happened because we got riled up. There is such a thing as sanctioned leaks to allow studios to gauge audience reception before releasing content they aren't confident about, sort of like a focus group. Whether or not that's what this one was, the noise demonstrated that shading the scene as written would've hurt their viewership. That's why it's so important to be vocal about how we feel, even if it's perceived as "negativity." That's why I raise concerns. That's why I'm taking the time now to give my feedback on all the SDCC content even though I'm feeling pretty broken. It's hard and it’s scary because other fans are mean sometimes, but it's the only way to encourage AMC to course correct, whereas silence and/or finding the bright side in everything gives them permission to keep gaslighting their audience.

The one thing that can’t be helped is Zabel's and Nicotero's intentions. Zabel said in an interview he didn't intend to make Daryl's and Isabelle's relationship romantic. That was a lie. The intention to shipbait is right there in the sides that were approved for production, and it's right there in the SDCC trailer, which I will address in another post. I don't trust storytellers who think ageist tropes are necessary to get people to watch despite the significant portion of Daryl's fanbase who don't view him as the ZA's James Bond. I don't support storytellers who think they have to stick to an outdated formula instead of doing proper research on the characters to see what works for their unique stories and unique fanbase. I won't stick around for S3 to find out which lucky actress gets to be the new shipbait or which parts of Caryl's story get retconned. I can't make sense of a stagnant friendship narrative for them because that's not the narrative I followed on the flagship show. These guys make me too afraid to watch S2 even, which hurts because Caryl’s story is so important to me. I want to see it continue, and I want Melissa to get the praise she deserves. But I also want Caryl’s story to be in the right hands. It is with Melissa and Norman working as a team. Notice the difference in the quality of their interviews when it was just them and Louis getting to speak on their characters vs when Zabel and Nicotero were there to chime in (frequently)? I did, and it just makes me confused about the future of these characters.

Note: I apologize for the quality of the screenshots. They were blurry to begin with, but I also didn't want to post the whole page with the watermark in case it wasn't a sanctioned leak.

[squaric-acid]

Rewatching PotO (2004) in 2024

~ A needless commentary. Please note that I first watched this movie seven years ago, in 2017. ~

I like the Wizard of Oz thing they do by having the prologue scene in black and white.

Is the Madam Giry in the prologue supposed to be Meg or her mother, it is unclear.

The costumes are decidedly not bad for a piece of historical fiction made in the early 2000’s.

I adore the chaos and attention to detail of the establishing shots of the Opera Populaire during a rehearsal.

All the costumes in this movie are good except for Christine’s during Point of No Return, like what the fuck was that.

I like that Raoul is introduced in person during the rehearsal scene and that Christine gives us some background on their relationship. Her saying they were childhood sweethearts makes the set up of their love story stronger, like they both obviously still harbored feelings for each other during the interim of their childhood and the events of PotO. In the stage production this is less obvious.

Was it really necessary to have the new managers make lecherous comments about Meg and Christine?

Emmy Rossum is very stiff during Think of Me, in contrast to the scene of her dancing just prior where she is very expressive. I’m not sure what to make of this, it’s only an observation. I want her earrings from this scene though.

The Phantom’s lack of a hat makes his head look small and Gerard Butler does not have a small head.

You can tell that the theatre they are in isn’t actually very big.

The dubbing does not sync well to the mouths of the actors.

Meg Giry is adorable.

Christine’s dress during Think of Me looks suspiciously like a wedding dress.

How can you not ship Christine and Raoul in this movie? They’re so cute together.

Not the slow-mo of the candles blowing out.

The arms holding the candelabra are weird, like icky weird, and remind me of the Haunted Mansion.

I do have to admit that Gerard Butler in that cape is really something, he does look good as the Phantom, even without the hat during Phantom of the Opera. I appreciate the electric guitar during that scene too.

It’s not subtle that they used the same archway more than once. And what happens to the horse, where did he go?

Erik’s lair really gives Pirates of the Caribbean ride vibes.

Was the dramatic cape removal necessary?

Why does he just leave her sitting in the boat?

RAMIN KARIMLOO WAS GUSTAVE DAAÉ?!?!!!! And I was supposed to find about this on my own?!?!

Gerard Butler as the Phantom is peak early 2000’s pathetic sad boy.

The dubbing continues to be bad which really impedes the impact of Music of the Night. The blocking isn’t bad though so I’ll focus on that.

Bro, not the mannequin! And the way he sets her in the swan? Hilariously creepy.

The scene of Meg discovering the passage behind the mirror is so interesting to me. What a great piece of character exploration! I wonder how much this version of Meg knows about the Phantom and inner workings of the opera house, surely she isn’t blind to her mother’s association with the Opera Ghost.

Madam Giry demonstrating the use of lasso was a girl boss moment.

How on earth did he not feel Christine prying at the mask?

I wish they would’ve used more drastic makeup and prosthesis for the Phantom’s deformity. Or at least let the camera focus on it for a tiny bit longer. We get basically nothing of it in this scene.

I forgot that they cut back to the black and white of the prologue (a continuation of it).

Just how much is 20,000 francs in 1870 worth today?

Those skull wax seals are cool.

Was the mooning of Carlotta necessary? Funny though

Minnie Driver is hilarious. The Prima Donna scene is fantastic.

Erik doing dastardly deeds in his fancy clothes is iconique.

Where is the musical cue for “Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?”?! It sounds like an announcement at a train station!

Where on earth was Buquet to have seen the Phantom standing near the chandelier?

Only in the movies does cutting back and forth between the ballet from act three and the Phantom chasing Buquet around the flies really work. It makes the scene much more tense but is also amusing because we seen the Phantom doing stunts in his fancy clothes.

They really wanted to make this into a movie musical but did a poor job of integrating the music into the action of the movie.

I love the set design in this movie if nothing else.

If anything Gerard Butler’s Phantom has the least awful face of any rendition of the Phantom.

I can’t imagine this movie being made today, it would be an auto tune nightmare.

What is it about well-dressed pathetic sad boys of the early 2000’s variety?

You can’t fault Gerard Butler’s acting when he cries into the rose.

I take it back, why was the dramatic run so popular? It looks ridiculous.

I love Christine’s dress for the Masquerade scene. And Raoul looks dashing too.

The silver and gold fan choreography is neat. I also especially appreciate that only Christine and the Phantom are wearing shades of red.

Where are the fics of the Phantom and Madam Giry as children? That’s the story I want to hear.

Raoul sleeping, obviously on guard, outside the ballet dormitories is so endearing.

Showing that the Phantom knocks out the guard and is the one to take Christine to the graveyard closes the plot hole about how he knew she would go there. And it demonstrated just how obsessive he is about her.

I don’t know a lot about how funerary monuments worked in the 1800’s but how could the Daaé’s afford such a mausoleum?

The reprise of Angel of Music was very good. Excellent use of lighting.

The Phantom jumping down from the roof of the mausoleum is rather ruined by the fact his cape flipped over his head and he had to put it right.

The fight scene wasn’t the most coherent but it wasn’t outrageous either. I like the skull shaped guard on the Phantom’s sword.

Erik saying “let it be war upon you both” is undercut by the fact he didn’t say that it would be war between him and the managers earlier.

They cut back to Raoul coming up with his plan to ensnare the Phantom after the scene in the cemetery. I think it’s narratively out of place given the events of the scene of the graveyard. Christine’s lament, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, which both about her missing her father and about gathering the courage to bid goodbye to her angel of music. Which Christine felt she had to do because of the plan Raoul came up with.

Christine’s protestations about Raoul’s plan being spoken rather than sung works well in my opinion. But there’s a certain angst to how hysterical Christine sounds in the stage production.

Seriously, the Don Juan costume for Christine sucks.

The reveal in the stage production was better. They mention the hood of cloak in the song, the hood hides the fact that it’s so obviously not Piangi, anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see it wasn’t the same guy.

The background dancers, lol.

All the shots cutting to Madam Giry lowkey make it seem like she was secretly in love with the Phantom.

They could’ve made Point of No Return more tense.

Why does the Phantom’s wig look so bad before Christine pulls off his mask?

Now his disfigurement actually looks appropriate.

Madam Giry literally brought him to the opera house and he went willingly, the Phantom calling it a prison isn’t super accurate.

Erik has too much hair in this version. But props to Gerard Butler for killing it in the final scene in the Phantom’s Lair.

I like the detail that the cut on Raoul’s arm starts bleeding again due to all the action. It looks weirdly real though so maybe it was unintentional. I have not seen any behind the scenes footage to confirm this.

Why is Meg at the forefront of the mob? Why was she so interested in the mask? Is it supposed to be a hint about Love Never Dies? There is too much focus on Meg and Madam Giry’s involvement with the Phantom to just be as it is explained.

I adore the implication of the rose at Christine’s grave. Perhaps the most emotionally impactful moment in the whole movie.

7/10

Love the costumes and the aesthetics. The final scene at Christine’s grave was a very nice extra bit. Not as good as the stage production but enjoyable. The acting seemed a bit stiff and underwhelming but lots of movies from the early 2000’s were. I prefer the 25th anniversary performance but who doesn’t?

I can’t speak to how it compares to the book because I haven’t read it (I will sometime)

[ihhfhonao3]

ace attorney fic request: Maya starts taking clown training from Moe and gets her own clown uniform with the red nose and everything

OH MY GOD IM SORRY THAT THIS TOOK FORTY YEARS TO FINISH. All my motivation just DISAPPEARED like the beginning of May so I hope this scratches at least a bit of a (VERY LATE) itch. Thanks for requesting, fic is under the cut!

Lawrence Curls- better known as Moe the clown- wasn’t typically the type of man to be surprised by too much. If he was forced to pinpoint a moment in his life where he became so desensitized to practically everything, the last straw would likely be being a firsthand witness to murder. Not to mention that the person who was murdered was his own late boss.

There were many other events in his life that started to slowly etch away at his ability to care about most things. Practically losing all ability to ever talk to his wife or daughter was pretty up there in terms of life events that started to wear down the camel’s back. It was quite ironic when he thought about it- women always say that they love humorous men when it comes to relationships. But that wasn’t something that Moe was thinking about in this current moment. No, instead he was thinking about what to do with Maya Fey.

The girl had barged into the circus tent early that morning, startling Moe and almost making him lose his balance on a big inflatable ball. On accident, this time. But once he was sure that he wasn’t going to topple over, Moe hopped off the ball and asked what Maya needed. He remembered her being the assistant to that lawyer who defended Max Galactica not too long ago- Wright was his name.

Nothing could prepare Moe for the shock that came with hearing that Maya wanted to become a circus clown.

“I think it’d be fun!” She said. “And you’re one of the best clowns around I know!”

Moe almost corrected her by saying that he was likely the only clown around she knew, but he kept quiet. 

Maya continued to blabber on and on about how she admired Moe and his sense of humor, gushing about how classy and hilarious his jokes were. Moe thought she was simply being patronizing, but if that was the case, she sure as hell was convincing. Moe let Maya finish speaking before he talked himself.

“I just don’t really understand,” Moe said, eyeing Maya up and down. “WHY do you want to be a clown? Of all the careers there are, you choose… this?”

“Didn’t I make it clear? I admire you so much!” Maya said cheerily. “What you do is super awesome- I wanna be like you!”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re choosing the wrong role model here. This job made my wife leave me! HAHAHAHAHA!” Moe laughed.

Maya just stared at him.

“God, I miss her…” Moe mumbled. “I mean uh, this job doesn’t pay that well. Are you sure? I could teach you something way better, like business management!”

Maya made a face. “No thank you. I appreciate your offer, and congratulations on your promotion, but I’ve made up my mind.”

Moe sighed. “Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. Are you sure that this is what you wanna do? You’re completely and totally up for the task?”

Maya nodded vigorously. “Of course! I am but your pupil, sir.”

Maya made an exaggerated bow, and Moe laughed. He then told Maya to come back to the circus at the same time tomorrow, to begin her training.

So now Moe was here, sitting in his office, thinking about what he should do with this situation. He truly didn’t want to turn down such a sweet girl and crush all of her dreams, but she had such a bright future ahead of her doing what she was currently doing. Moe couldn’t exactly remember what it was specifically, but he was sure that whatever it was, it was miles better than being a circus clown. Looking back, Moe sometimes couldn’t even remember what it was that initially motivated him to become a part of the circus. He always thought himself to be quite funny, so surely the logical conclusion after that was to disappoint his family and become a clown. 

Of course, they hadn’t been disappointed at the beginning, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, this Fey girl had so much life to live- and part of Moe worried that she was actively throwing her life away by choosing this career path. But another thing tugged at him- if she truly was passionate about this, who was he to stop her from following her dreams? Moe could remember a time when he himself was like that. Zealous and passionate, full of piss and vinegar.

Moe laughed at the phrase inside his head. What a dumb saying. Maybe he’ll make a joke out of that one at the next performance that was to come.

Eventually, Moe found his answer, after several minutes of deep thought.

He was going to accept the request and teach Maya how to be an amazing clown.

He quickly got to work writing down tips and ideas for routines that she could perform, depending on what area of clownhood Maya wanted to focus on. What she had to learn in order to tell jokes was very different from what she had to learn in order to dance on an inflatable ball. Moe made sure to take note of this, as well as write down rough outlines of ideas for routines that Maya could perform. At around two in the morning, he decided to call it a night and go to bed. 

Kicking himself for going to sleep so late, Moe dragged himself out of bed at the crack of dawn so he could practice a bit before Maya arrived. Sure enough, as Moe was reciting some jokes he had freshly come up with, the girl returned and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ah! Maya!” Moe said as cheerfully as physically possible as he turned around. “Glad to see you again. You really are committed, huh?”

Maya nodded rigorously. “Totally! I’m dedicated to this clown thing! What’s my first lesson?”

“Well, have you thought about what kind of clown you want to be?” Moe asked.

Maya stared at him. “I didn’t know that there’s different types of clowns.”

Moe chuckled. “Oh yeah, there’s lots! …Well, actually, there’s only about four I could think of, and one of them is a scary clown, which we’re not doing. So you can choose between a joke clown, a stunt clown, or a prank clown.”

“What do each of them do?” Maya asked.

“Jokes clowns tell jokes like I do,” Moe said. “Stunt clowns do stuff like balancing on a big inflatable ball while juggling. And prank clowns suffer pain for the enjoyment of others. HAHAHAHA! I’m kidding. Well, not really. They do stuff like falling over on purpose and throwing pie in each other’s faces. Technically, I dabble between all three, but since you’re a beginner, let’s choose just one for now.”

Maya closed her eyes and thought. Within a few moments, she opened them back up again and said “Okay, I choose prank clown.”

“Excellent choice!” Moe said excitedly. “Now, let’s get to your training. Follow me to my office.”

Maya trailed after Moe as he headed to his office. Once he went inside, he opened a closet that had a bunch of clown gear. He pulled out a purple suit with yellow stripes on it and big plastic buttons that looked like pink flowers, then handed it to Maya.

“This will be your suit. Wear it well, it is a symbol of honor.” Moe almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of what he was saying, but he really wanted to sell Maya on this. He didn’t want to crush her dreams.

Just as Moe expected, Maya lit up and thanked him, then grabbed the suit and ran to the bathroom to immediately put it on. Moe waited for a couple minutes before Maya came back out, wearing the suit and a gigantic smile.

“Can I get funny shoes too?” Maya asked.

“Sure thing,” Moe replied, digging through his closet. “How does blue sound?”

“Perfect!” Maya said.

Moe handed the gigantic clown shoes to Maya. “Anything else you’d like?”

Maya tapped her chin, thinking. “OH! Could I have a big nose like yours?”

Moe stared at Maya. “This is my real nose.”

Maya went quiet. A moment passed before she said, “Oh… I am so sorry…”

“Ha! It’s totally fine,” Moe laughed. He was trying his hardest to not lose his patience, but he hated thinking about his nose. Far too many people thought it was fake for his liking.

Maya quietly took off her current shoes and replaced them with the big, broad blue clown shoes. She walked around the office a bit, trying out how they felt.

“They’re way too big, but that’s the point, isn’t it?” Maya said. 

“It is indeed,” Moe said. “Now you seem to be all set. Follow me down to the main tent and we can begin your training.”

Maya did a silent cheer as she started to stumble her way back to the tent with Moe. Moe walked extra slowly so as to not leave Maya behind, but she got a hang of the shoes quicker than he expected. Maybe she is meant to have this job, Moe thought to himself. Hey, I’d be crazy if I were to judge!

By the time the two had returned to the main tent, there were some other performers with the circus who were already there practicing. Maya watched as three women made a human pyramid together in one corner of the tent. It was extremely intriguing to her. 

Moe turned around to face Maya for a moment. “Stay here for a bit, will you?”

“I’ll be right here!” Maya beamed.

Moe strained a smile and then hurried to the front of the tent to meet Max Galactica at the entrance, who was just walking in. Maya couldn’t hear their conversation, but from the looks of it, Moe was telling him something important. After a couple of minutes, Moe returned to Maya.

“So, where do we start?” Maya asked eagerly.

“First off, I’m going to teach you what could be one of the most important things to know when being a prank clown,” Moe said. “And that is… the humorous fall.”

Maya seemed confused, so Moe stepped back to demonstrate. He walked a few paces before stepping on his own shoes on purpose, thus tripping and falling over. As he fell, Moe kicked his back foot slightly to propel him forwards and exaggerate the fall, and stuck his arms out to break it so he didn’t get too seriously hurt. Moe then stood up and took a bow as Maya clapped for him.

“What you’re gonna want to do is force yourself to fall,” Moe said. “After you do that, push off of the leg that still has a bit of traction. That emphasizes your fall and makes it funnier.”

“Okay, let me try!” Maya said.

Maya then followed suit in a similar fashion, tripping over her huge shoes and then falling over.

“Not bad, not bad,” Moe critiqued. “But you aren’t pushing forwards enough. Pushing off and forwards really gives the fall that oomph that audiences want. Practice again.”

Maya did as she was told, with her form only being slightly better this time.

“All right, practice your falls when you get the chance,” said Moe.

“I don’t get it…” Maya stated as she got up and dusted herself off. “Why do we want to break our fall? Wouldn't actually getting hurt be more funny?”

Moe snorted slightly. “You’re right, it would. But healthcare is too damn expensive in this country for us to be able to fall like you normally would. HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Maya looked a little bit disdained by that comment, so Moe coughed curtly and changed the subject.

“Ahem. Um, there’s different ways you can fall too, to switch things up so as to not be too repetitive in your routine,” Moe told Maya.

Moe then proceeded to show Maya how to fall to her side and how to fall backwards, as well as showcased the many different ways that one can slip on a banana peel. Moe explained the use of the banana peel and its significance to the clown act in a circus. Needless to say, Maya was truly enjoying her time learning how to perform in the circus. The magical glow in her eyes that was present when she was investigating the circus with Phoenix all that time ago had since returned, livening her attitude and keeping her cheery. Maybe Moe was disillusioned, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Maya was so happy about this. He guessed that she was going to quit the whole ordeal sometime within the week.

Moe watched as Maya practiced her falls, mesmerized by her determination. Eventually, he snapped back to his senses.

“Um, I think that’s enough for now,” Moe said eventually. “Here, follow me. You can learn how to throw pies next.”

Maya beamed and wiped her hands on her pants, then followed Moe outside the tent. Directly outside of it stood three targets and a small stack of tin pie pans.

“Here is where I practice throwing pies,” Moe said. He picked up one of the tin pans, lifted it to his shoulder, and chucked it right at the target. It hit right in the center.

“That was awesome!” Maya cried. “How’d you do it?”

“Practice, of course,” said Moe. “And look-” Moe picked up one of the pie pans from the stack.

“We don’t have actual pies in them so we don’t waste resources, but we do have dirt packaged inside of them sealed with cling wrap and tape,” Moe said. He titled the pan to show Maya. Sure enough, there was a layer of cling wrap on the top of the pan, secured in place with duct-tape. Below the plastic wrap, inside the pan was a layer of dirt that filled the pan to about halfway. Moe handed the pan to Maya.

“Wow, it weighs almost like a real pie!” she said. “That’s super smart.”

Moe grinned. “Thanks, I came up with it myself. Now, throw that pan at the target, following my lead.”

Maya nodded and did as Moe did- raising the pan to her shoulder and chucking it as hard as she could. It landed near the left of the target.

“Almost,” Moe said encouragingly. “A little more to the right. Focus your eyes on the center of the target, at the bullseye.”

Maya retrieved her pan and tried again, getting closer to the center this time.

“Good!” Moe said. “Practice this and your falls for a little bit. Can I trust you to not burn down the establishment while I go work out some finances?”

“You can count on me, boss!” Maya said, straightening up and saluting at Moe, before proceeding to almost hit a nearby animal trainer in the head with a bad throw.

Moe grimaced. Part of him didn’t know how much he could count on Maya. She had ambition, but she was excitable at times. And new.

Moe headed inside the tent and eventually found Benjamin Woodman, who was aimlessly watching Max practice his magic tricks. Moe could’ve sworn he saw some scorn in his eyes.

“Ben,” Moe called. Ben looked up.

“Would you mind watching over the girl practicing pie-throws outside? She’s a newbie, I don’t really trust her to not knock someone unconscious,” Moe said.

Ben nodded and got up from his spot on the floor, exiting the tent without a word.

“Sometimes I wonder why I don’t fire these airheads,” Moe muttered to himself as he headed to his office. 

~~~

Maya picked up another pie pan and lobbed it at the target. It was slightly above the bullseye.

“So close!” she said to herself. She went to grab the three pans that she had just thrown, retrieving them from the grass. She then stacked them on top of the other pans that sat on the ground beside her.

Truth be told, Maya was having the time of her life. She was learning so much in such a short period of time, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she was learning about something that she actually cared about and wanted to learn. This wasn’t at all like her spirit medium lessons back in Khura’in. 

Maya threw another pie pan at one of the targets as a man in a white coat holding a ventriloquist dummy walked outside and started watching her.

“Oh, hello!” Maya said cheerily as she lobbed another pan. The man simply nodded at her.

Maybe he’s scared of my good arm! Maya thought confidently. She tossed another pan and then went to retrieve it.

The man watched her every move wordlessly, his expression unchanged and static.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” Maya asked, becoming increasingly nervous from being watched.

The man avoided eye contact, but in turn the puppet placed its wooden hand on its hip and spoke.

“The name is Trilo Quist,” the puppet said. “And this big oaf is Ben. Who’s asking?”

“M-Maya Fey…” Maya muttered. The man didn’t seem to move his mouth at all when the puppet spoke for him. Maya was impressed- the man must have lots of skill.

“Tell me Maya, why are you doing this… pan-throwing thingy? Don’t you have something better to do?” asked Trilo.

Gee, what a character! Maya thought to herself. “Eh, no, I was told to practice my pie throws. Mr. Moe said I should, actually.”

“Mr. Moe? Ha! A fool like that doesn’t need a respective title,” Trilo joked. 

Maya looked at him as she threw another pie pan. For some reason, that statement made her angry. “I’ll have you know that Mr. Moe has been nothing but kind and respectful of my goals here, not to mention very supportive and eager to teach me what it means to be a clown.”

“Whatever floats your boat, I suppose,” Trilo shrugged. Ben still refused to make eye contact. 

Maya threw another pie pan. “Why are you here anyways? I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you’re just going to be here to insult my teacher, I’d rather you leave me be.”

“Your teacher, who is also my boss, I’ll have you know, instructed me to watch over you here,” Trilo said matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t trust you to not burn something down.”

“Har har,” Maya muttered. She wasn’t sure how much she liked this Trilo fellow. Surely the Ben guy was far nicer anyways.

“Why do you talk so much and Ben doesn’t?” Maya inquired as she retrieved her pie pans once more.

“That’s because Ben doesn’t have anything interesting to say,” Trilo said confidently.

Maya rolled her eyes as she stacked the pie pans once more and started to head back into the tent.

“Hey, where are you headed?” Trilo cried. “I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight!”

Probably because your regular job isn’t that important, Maya thought. “I’m just going inside so I can practice falling now.”

Maya could’ve sworn she heard snickering coming from the dummy, but she decided to ignore it. She found herself an empty section of the tent to practice in, wedged between some animal trainers and a magician. Maya cleared some of the sharp rocks and dirt from the ground and started to practice as Ben and Trilo watched her again.

As she practiced her falls, she wondered if Moe was going to come back. And she wondered how Phoenix was doing. And She wondered if Moe was proud of her. And she wondered if this was all a stupid idea.

“…Are ya sure you’re not getting hurt?” Trilo asked suddenly. “Because I’m pretty sure Moe will be a little more than ticked if he found that I was complacent in hurting a newbie. Even though you getting hurt should be your fault.”

“I promise, I’m okay,” Maya strained. Something about this Trilo guy made her irrationally irritated. Not to mention, if she remembered correctly, he was kind of a creep anyways. Maya wondered if it was the puppeteer or the puppet itself that was a creep. She settled on the idea of it being both of them.

“Alright, alright, I was just checking…” Trilo said. He sounded offended.

Maya was becoming increasingly irked by Trilo, but she tried her hardest not to let it bother her. She breathed deep in between her trips and falls, grounding herself before each time. After a little while, Maya was getting a tad bored.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I looked around the circus a bit, would you?” Maya asked Trilo more than Ben.

“I would mind, actually,” Trilo proclaimed. “You can’t walk around unattended.”

“So escort me,” Maya said, putting a hand on her hip.

Ben looked increasingly uncomfortable. After a long pause, Trilo eventually muttered “Fine.”

The pair that was more of a trio started to walk around the circus. Maya watched the magician Max Galactica, Phoenix’s old client, practice his magic tricks. She watched as he cut a box in half and fiddled with some pieces of cloth that were tied together into one long string. Maya didn’t really understand how any of that related to being a magician, but he seemed to know what he was doing. 

Maya then went to look at the animal tamers. Ben and Trilo stayed around thirty feet away from the animals, much to Maya’s suspicion. She assumed it had something to do with the lion scandal that happened all that time ago. Maya watched as a tiger jumped through hoops and a woman rode on an elephant. Regina Berry, the lead animal trainer, was cheering the creatures on as they performed their tricks. Maya smiled. Regina looked like she was having so much fun.

Maya eventually lost track of time and realized that she had been on too long of a break when she found that Ben and Trilo were nowhere to be found and Moe was approaching her.

“Maya!” Moe called. “Maya, come out to the front of the tent please. I need to talk with you.”

Maya hesitated. She was a little nervous. Had she done something wrong? Did Trilo and Ben tell on her? Did they say that she hadn’t been practicing? Maya swallowed nervously and went to the entrance of the tent.

“Maya, I just wanted to thank you for your dedication,” Moe said. “Not too many people stick around this long, believe it or not. So I admire you for keeping with it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks!” Maya grinned. “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

Moe reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Here. I wanted to give you this. As a reward- and since you did want to have one of your own.”

Maya opened the box and inside was a classic red rubber clown nose. She gasped and immediately popped it on her face, laughing at how it felt on her.

“How do I look?” Maya asked, spinning in a circle.

“Like an absolute fool,” Moe smiled. “So, I trust you’ll come back here at the same time tomorrow?”

“Yes sir!” Maya said, saluting Moe. “You can count on me!”

Moe laughed. “Get out of here. Go home, have some dinner, say hi to that Wright guy for me.”

“I will!” Maya said as she started to run home.

She had oh so conveniently forgotten about the clown shoes that were still on her feet, tripping over them when she had gotten no more than thirty feet from the circus tent.

[ghostradiodylan]

TW: canon-typical graphic violence for The Quarry (all under the ‘keep reading’).

Particles and Waves: A Ghost/Love Story

Dylan Lenivy knew he was going to die.

Not in the abstract way that everyone knows they’ll die eventually, but right now, today, in about the next 30 seconds. To say he was too young to die would have been a cliché, sure, but it would also have been true. He’d graduated high school in May and turned 19 in July. He’d just finished two months working with his friends as a summer camp counselor. He was supposed to be starting college in a week, he’d already packed for his move before he set off for camp. He’d kissed his crush in a game of truth or dare beside a campfire just that evening, his heart in his throat and cheap beer on his breath. He’d even managed to save his friend Kaitlyn from a werewolf attack in front of the Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp lodge. He’d lost a hand that night, too, so it wasn’t all highlights, but, on the whole, Dylan felt like he had kind of a lot going for him. He would have preferred to stick around.

Since not dying didn’t appear to be in the cards anymore, though, Dylan hoped his end would at least be quick, that the grotesque, oddly fleshy werewolf, drooling and snarling inches from his face, staring him down with its demonic red eyes, would rip his throat out in one bite and be done with it. Unfortunately for Dylan, this beast had other plans. It gave him entirely too much time, sitting there in the cab of the magnetic crane at the Hackett scrapyard, to anticipate what would be an unrelentingly brutal end. As soon as it had knocked the blowtorch from his right hand, his only hand, he knew the fight was over. His one available weapon had flown to the left side of the cab, where his handless arm dangled uselessly, at the same time that the wolf had grabbed his remaining intact arm in its jaws.

The werewolf (was it Nick, he wondered. Or his boss Chris Hackett? Or another of his friends who’d been bitten and turned while he wasn’t looking? Surely it hadn’t been long enough since Dylan had seen him for it to somehow be Ryan) was taking its sweet time gnawing through what had been Dylan’s good arm, tearing muscle and sinew, splintering bone. And there was absolutely nothing he could do; no way to fight, no way to flee. He could only curse and cry and scream, so that’s what he did. The pain was indescribable. It was so much worse than the chainsaw, worse than anything he could have imagined, and it just would not stop.

Dylan wished that Kaitlyn could have come put a bullet in his head, euthanized him. That would have been a relief. Failing that, though, he hoped she was running already, hoped she’d gotten a decent head start out of this werewolf choosing to finish him off so slowly. Run away Kaitlyn, he urged her mentally, run!

He’d expected to pass out from the hemorrhaging by this point, especially given that this was Dylan’s second bloody attack of the night, and the last one had come complete with an amputation, but no, that would’ve been too easy. His stupid, stubborn body was so determined to keep itself alive that it just kept sending out bursts of adrenaline that he could do nothing with but shake and suffer. He remained conscious and screaming for several more unbearable seconds.

Though the pain and the terror wouldn’t quite allow Dylan’s all-too-short life to flash before his eyes like a movie montage, he did get momentary visions. He saw his mother, who he knew would be devastated beyond all consolation, and the packed bags and boxes that would never make it to his college dorm. He thought of his ginger cat purring on his lap, of Ryan’s smile and that little beauty mark at the corner of his mouth that Dylan thought might be the most attractive thing he’d ever seen on a human face, and of how it felt to be on the receiving end of Kaitlyn’s infectious laughter. He thought of everything he would miss, the blazing blue summer skies and the sound of boat paddles softly churning the surface of the lake, the faces of his friends in the bonfire light, all the songs his favorite bands would put out that he would never get to hear. And none of this distracted him from the pain, it only piled on another layer. It filled him with longing and sadness and, worst of all, guilt. He was dying, through no fault of his own, really, and he felt so damn guilty about it, about what it would do to everyone he loved.

Eventually, the monster ripped his arm in two and tossed the severed forearm to the side. Dylan might have made a ‘no hands’ joke now if only he hadn’t been too busy with the whole dying in agony thing. The creature then grabbed him by the throat with its huge, clawed hand and he was ready for that, he welcomed it now. But instead of crushing his windpipe and ending his torment, it merely used the leverage to hold him still (wow, really? he thought, this is just gratuitous). Then, it switched its attention to his other arm, the one that had arrived to the scene of his demise already down a hand, and proceeded to slash that one completely off at the upper arm with its claws. He felt the arm tearing away and the gush of blood, but he didn’t cry out then—the blackness had begun closing in on him too quickly, and Dylan was grateful for that. He was barely even aware that the beast had ultimately gone for his throat with its teeth because it did so only in the very end, once there was not one single shred of mercy left in the act. His last thought, as his heart stilled and his breath left his ravaged body, was oh, finally, thank fuck.

Dylan Lenivy had died, but that was only the beginning.

————————————————

Redoing the landing pages for my fics because I finally learned how to use tumblr semi-properly. 😅 Late to every party. Don’t mind this if you’ve already seen it!

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Seventh Year: A Finale Bonus Scene 3

No one asked for Pansy Parkinson's POV. You are going to get it anyway. And this is Pansy Parkinson's POV from pre-Hogwarts up through their seventh year. :)

Notable trigger warnings include bigotry, racism, and degrading language.

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 2

Bonus Scene 4

**

Pansy so clearly remembered the day she had first met Draco Malfoy. It had been his sixth birthday party, and her father had warned her about making a good first impression. They wanted to keep good relations with the Malfoy family, potentially even with marriage talks down the line.

Draco had seemed like a prince when she first saw him with that pale skin, gray eyes, beautiful face, and ashen blond hair. He had been polite with her, and Pansy knew she wanted him.

It had been a desire to have something that was hers, though she soon realized she couldn’t be Draco’s sole focus. There were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, though they were dull and slow. But she could nonetheless be a close confidante, one of his friends and hopefully more later.

They continued meeting throughout the years leading to their first year at Hogwarts. Draco did warm up to her, smiling at her when he saw her and also giving her thoughtful gifts. There weren’t yet any talks about marriage, but Pansy was sure they would be happening at some point soon.

Only they didn’t, and Pansy fretted about why. It wasn’t as if relations between her family and Draco’s worsened, so it was still possible. Besides, soon she would be seeing Draco every day.

She looked forward to the Hogwarts Express, meeting and spending time with Draco where there were no nosy parents present.

Only when the day came, she didn’t see him. She did see Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Theodore Nott. But Draco and the two boys he always had by his side? He was missing and she didn’t see him at all on the train. When they boarded the boats for the lake, she did manage to catch a glimpse of him in a boat with an unfamiliar dark-skinned boy along with Crabbe and Goyle.

Well, that was all right then. He was still in the same House as her.

Draco was as charming as ever when she finally spoke to him in the Common Room, though he did complain about Harry Potter.

It turned out to be a recurring theme for Pansy that year. Potter and, inexplicably, Wayne Hopkins. Hopkins was that dark boy he had been with, though he had been sorted into Hufflepuff. Only, he kept spending time with him. Draco even had a study group with the boy!

Pansy couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he want to spend time with someone so…dirty? Why did he seek him out? He didn’t even seek Pansy out! Hopkins was never the first to meet with Draco, and that told Pansy more than anything what Hopkins thought of Draco.

So why did Draco continue to pursue anything with him?

When asked, Draco had nothing to say beyond that it was important to facilitate connections.

Pansy didn’t see how it was helpful, especially as Hopkins’s other friends included mudbloods.

Still, Draco could have other connections. She knew that. Pansy had her own.

In the end, she had known him longest.

Their second year was much the same as the first with the inclusion of the excitement of the Chamber being opened. Only the entire affair died down without any hint about who had done it.

She was still close to Draco, claiming his time in the evenings in the Common Room, but he also continued his friendship with Hopkins. Hopkins continued to be polite and cordial with Draco, but he was also…odd. Something about him…

Pansy couldn’t put her finger on it, but he seemed cold. So cold and distant to Draco, yet Draco continued to study with him.

It wasn’t fair.

Until suddenly it was, when Draco and Hopkins had a falling out over that oaf’s pet hippogriff. 

There were no more study groups. No more points where Draco would go and seek out Hopkins’s company. Instead he spent more time with her and the other Slytherins, where he belonged.

Draco was still charming to her, but he was also…more irritable. He seemed to be continually upset by something, though when asked would simply indicate his injured arm. But even after the bandages came off the bad temper continued.

Well, it was the Dementors. Pansy hated them, too. Everyone did.

It would be better once Black was caught and the Dementors gone.

And it was, once summer was over and they were back for the next year. Draco wasn’t quite as irritable as he had been before, though he still had his moments. Pansy thought that perhaps it had something to do with the Quidditch World Cup and what had happened there, though he refused to comment on the matter.

Pansy hadn’t realized how much she’d grown to appreciate the new normal until it was gone from one moment to the next. She hadn’t been there to see, but she heard all about how Hopkins had transfigured Draco back from what Moody had done. Draco hadn’t spoken on the matter despite Pansy asking him, though he looked increasingly like something was on his mind.

If Pansy had known that he was thinking about reconciling with Hopkins, she might have…done something. Because he reconciled and then spent even more time with Hopkins.

He even backtracked on the badges he’d made, muttering something about them being too juvenile. Pansy knew that wasn’t something he would have thought on his own; he had been so proud of them. How could Hopkins insult his work like that? Draco had put so much effort in them! And why did Draco just let it happen?

Pansy didn’t know what exactly was happening, but she didn’t like it. This was different than the other connections Draco had cultivated. Rather than Draco leading, it seemed he more or less followed Hopkins.

She just couldn’t understand why. Hopkins was so – so strange. She hadn’t spoken to him but why would she need to when she could see how bloody strange he was? He wasn’t good enough for Draco, looking unattractively dark next to Draco’s pale skin.

But she was the one going with Draco to the Yule Ball. He had asked her, and that was all she needed to know. He hadn’t asked Daphne, Millicent Bulstrode, or Tracey Davis. He’d asked her.

It was one step closer to the relationship she had dreamed of.

Only then Draco abandoned her, choosing to spend time with Hopkins. It wasn’t as if Hopkins didn’t have a date. He had gone with Loony Lovegood, but she simply pulled him down to peck his cheek affectionately before skipping off to dance with the rest of their little friend group. Hopkins stayed to the sides and Draco joined him, laughing and smiling in a way Pansy had never seen from him before as they talked.

Draco did dance with her once, but that was only because she had asked him for one. Loony asked Hopkins as well and Pansy had the pleasure of seeing him awkwardly lead her around the room once before dropping her back off with an amused Longbottom and once more sequestering himself in a corner. Only Draco joined him there as well after telling Pansy she should dance with Theodore Not if she still fancied dancing.

Something was wrong, she realized with a sinking pit in her stomach. Her dream faded further and further out of reach with every year, and it wasn’t even another girl she could blame. It was Hopkins – a boy.

He didn’t even treat Draco right! He barely even seemed to tolerate him, and all his smiles were so bloody smug and self-satisfied, as if he was reveling in having Draco Malfoy’s attention.

At least the night wasn’t a total waste. She was able to speak to a reporter about that oaf of a professor and see the fruits of her efforts the next morning.

Only instead of Draco seeming pleased by Pansy’s work, he seemed sick. He didn’t join in on the jokes or even congratulate her like others were. He vanished after breakfast and when she next tried to find him he was with Hopkins.

Of course.

Pansy tried to get Draco’s attention. She tried to be better, show him what he actually deserved. But he didn’t even smile at her like he used to, pulling back the more she tried to reach out.

And when she was invited to Malfoy Manor, it was with several others and they all knew why. So it made no sense to suddenly see Hopkins appear. He wasn’t one of the inner circle. He had no reason to be here.

Except that Draco had invited him.

Trying to turn it to her advantage failed, with Hopkins turning everything around on her and seeming utterly bored and unimpressed with the entire affair. She had the distinct impression that he had other things he would rather be doing with his time.

Did he think himself too good for them? she thought furiously as she was led away by a house-elf to tend to her burnt hands.

He was so bloody stupid with his talk about needing to use their power wisely. Snape had chosen her as prefect for a reason, meaning he agreed with what she would choose to do. Hopkins evidently disagreed, and it seemed Draco would opt to follow his lead here.

Could he not think for himself? Had he gone mad, listening to a half-blood? She asked this question of him later when they were in the Common Room after escorting the first years. 

Draco had taken a little to respond, saying he was being a leader worthy of the Malfoy name. He would establish the name as one to be respected. Shouldn’t she be able to recognize that?

Should she? She could scarcely recognize Draco. How could he abandon everything they stood for? For a filthy half-blood boy?

Umbridge was a blessing in disguise until she wasn’t, removed after some sort of magic backlash that left her bleeding profusely. But then there was Runcorn and the Inquisitorial Squad, which Draco also joined.

His reasoning had been similar to that of what he did as prefect, which made sense, though Pansy was still suspicious. He was spending so much time with Hopkins, even going with him to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s, turning down Pansy’s own invitation. There were rumors around Hogwarts about it having been a date, though those were quickly quelled by Hopkins’s friends.

She didn’t understand. No one else seemed to or they simply didn’t care to find out more.

How could they not?

She simmered with helpless fury for the remainder of the year.

The Dark Lord died and the Dark Lord rose again. Only this time he drew Draco into his inner fold, giving him the Dark Mark. 

Pansy didn’t know what he was tasked with, only her father told her to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t engage with Hopkins. It was something she gleefully took on. Finally someone had seen what she had all along!

She was able to rub it into Hopkins’s shocked face on the train, rejoice in Draco rebuffing him, and silently delight in finally having Draco’s attention once more. She didn’t even have to try that hard to keep him away from Hopkins, Draco doing the work himself, but she enjoyed every moment of Hopkins’s startled and dismayed faces.

The sight of him having juice thrown onto him would play a starring role in her dreams for some time.

Hopkins had lost control and couldn’t get it back. Not with the Dark Lord back and with Draco in the palm of his hand.

Still, it wasn’t quite perfect. Draco seemed stressed, staying up late into the night. He didn’t seem pleased to be with Pansy and kept even Crabbe and Goyle at a distance.

And then Hopkins lost his parents. He looked rather stunned the next time Pansy saw him, and she couldn’t help but poke at him, wanting to break that normally unflappable demeanor, see how much further he could break.

Only Draco interfered, hauling her off and giving her a verbal tongue lashing that she wasn’t to approach him again. Had she no shame?

She had shame, but did Draco? Defending someone he had verbally castigated and rebuffed multiple times this year? Where did he get off defending him now?

There hadn’t been anything Draco said to that. He just warned her to watch her step and left. She didn’t see him for a few days after except in classes, and he didn’t look well.

Her father kept her away from Malfoy Manor during winter break, and when she returned to Hogwarts Draco looked worse. He was no longer paying as much attention in classes, having narrow shaves in Potions and Herbology.

He was also spending time elsewhere. Pansy wasn’t sure where except he was spending as little time in the Common Room as possible.

Except, from one day to the next, Potter was suddenly accused of putting Hopkins in the Hospital Wing. There had been an altercation between him and Draco and Hopkins had been in the middle of it.

Pansy hadn’t seen Draco after, though Theodore told her he had been covered in blood and shaking so hard he could barely clean himself.

Although hoping Hopkins would bite it and die, it turned out he made a full recovery. He didn’t even seem all that affected by what had happened.

Draco also seemed significantly less stressed and a little calmer. The two events were likely connected no matter how much Pansy hated to think of it.

But it didn’t change that the Dark Lord had given his orders and Draco had to follow them.

One night she was woken by something she couldn’t pinpoint. It left her shivering in her bed, a nameless fear pinning her in place. She wasn’t the only one, the other girls in her room similarly paralyzed.

The next morning, they came to the Great Hall and heard the news that the Dark Lord was once again dead, his remaining Death Eaters captured, and the Astronomy Tower was firmly off-limits to everyone. And from the information being whispered, Potter, Draco, and Hopkins had been in the middle of it.

Draco didn’t speak of anything, and Hopkins was too intimidating for anyone to ask questions related about it. He usually just ended up giving the questioner a long look; it was sometimes accompanied by a raised eyebrow. If he knew the person, he’d ask if they didn’t have more important matters to attend to.

As for Potter… He was an open book, except he also refused to explain what had happened. Only from what Pansy could tell, it had been bad. The fact that the Astronomy Tower was so tightly locked down no one could even sneak in spoke for itself.

But one thing was clear to Pansy. And it was that Draco had said something to Hopkins based on how they were behaving around each other. It didn’t seem to have gone that well, which was Pansy’s sole consolation.  He’d probably confessed, since now Pansy could fully admit that that was what had been so different between Draco and Hopkins. Maybe it hadn’t always been the case, but it had been since…the very least their fourth year. She couldn’t forget the Yule Ball and how happy Draco had looked with Hopkins.

She still didn’t understand why. Why Hopkins? What made him so different? He was a half-blood. His father was a bloody grocer. He wasn’t even originally from Britain. He wasn’t a woman. He couldn’t even act normal. He didn’t treat Draco as he deserved. 

So why him? Pansy had known Draco first!

But if Hopkins wasn’t interested…

Only then he changed his mind, and he and Draco seemed to be enjoying themselves based on what they spoke about at the House tables. They clearly had no shame.

She was upset enough that she figured that if Draco could look elsewhere, then so could she. And maybe Draco would then see what he was missing. Which led her to Theodore. He wasn’t anywhere as handsome or refined as Draco, but he was at least a pureblood.

He was a little more disappointing in other areas, but Pansy couldn’t be that picky. She certainly wasn’t going to go to Crabbe or Goyle. Or Zabini. It left her with very limited options, so Theodore it was.

The maddening part was that Draco didn’t even notice.

(The reported disappearance of Draco’s Dark Mark was an oddity but not one Pansy was too concerned about. She could have been wrong about him being marked. He had never shown the arm to her and had always worn long sleeves.)

Hopkins and Draco had a date that Valentine’s, but that clearly didn’t go well since afterwards Draco ended up going on dates with other people. Noticeably, none of these people were Pansy. 

She was right there! How could he not ask her?

And why would Hopkins just let him go? Why wouldn’t Hopkins take advantage of the fact that Draco was wrapped around his finger?

Pansy confronted him, but that was only because she thought she had it handled, identified his weak spot, only for Hopkins to once more turn it around on her and reveal to everyone just how disappointing her relations with Theodore were. She and Theodore rowed all the way back to the Common Room, where Draco was obliviously frowning to himself.

He didn’t even seem to notice why she was upset, just refusing to ask her out. And the look on his face! He hadn’t even considered her as an option in the first place!

The rest of the argument between her and Theodore was once more disappointingly resolved. Theodore was very insistent on why Pansy couldn’t have told him? And why did she have to confront Hopkins like that?

No one in the Common Room looked at Pansy that night, though they did have questions for Draco. Questions he absolutely refused to answer.

Pansy didn’t know if he’d actually had any relations with Hopkins or not. She opted for the former, since otherwise why would they have been talking about that at breakfast? It made Hopkins throwing Draco aside even more disgusting, since he’d clearly received what he wanted and was finished with the matter.

She would never do that. She would treasure every moment with Draco and treat him as he deserved.

If only Draco could see that.

At least there was the chance he would now, given Hopkins had so clearly rejected him.

Pansy didn’t see Draco a single time that summer. Her father was ominously silent on the matter and her mother had no news.

She had hoped Draco’s father would have some influence over him, remind him of his duty. Yet it didn’t seem like anything would change.

There were some rumblings about unusual Dementor activity but nothing that concerned Pansy. This would be her last year. The last year she had with Draco.

It was so infuriatingly frustrating that he kept avoiding her. He was pleasant and polite, in a way that Pansy realized he had always been, but he didn’t seek her out. He spent more time with Zabini and Daphne, which he never had before.

And he was still with Hopkins. Always with Hopkins. He didn’t even go on dates anymore.

Hopkins didn’t even deign to give him the time of day! But he seemed so smugly pleased whenever Draco spoke to him, like he knew Draco was wrapped around his finger. Why couldn’t Draco see that?

Then came the Dementors, the chilling cold, hearing and feeling that terrible pain. The sun going out. No sign of Draco. No sign of Hopkins. No sign of any of their little group of friends.

Until suddenly they appeared again in the middle of the Great Hall like they had always been there. And a little Hufflepuff called out Hopkins for having been in the middle of the Dementors and him quietly stating he was only doing his job.

There was no way, Pansy thought. There was no way he had been outside in that mess. It was more likely he had been hiding away in a closet for the right time. And with Draco…

Yet being the teacher’s pet he was, Hopkins was eventually tasked with primary responsibility over the visiting Aurors. It wasn’t official but Pansy could read between the lines of what Dumbledore said.

That wasn’t fair.

Pansy was a prefect, too. And these were foreign Aurors. She could make some useful connections.

But Hopkins made her so angry. Always calm, always sure of himself. He always had a response to anything she said. He didn’t even realize what he held in his hand with Draco. Draco, who continued to pine after him and beg for scraps. Pansy hated seeing it.

Her mouth ran away on her, and before she knew it Hopkins had done something and she couldn’t speak. The foreign Aurors just watched, none of them stepping in despite what was happening.

She felt trapped. Like a mouse. It was like staring in the eyes of a predator, except this one didn’t even want to eat her.

She was forced to apologize, and she had her badge taken away by Draco. Who was as chillingly polite as always. 

It wasn’t until she was safely back in her Common Room that she realized what a fool she had been. A prey? A predator? She had been utterly ridiculous, fooled by whatever magic Hopkins had cast. And now she wasn’t even a prefect.

She kept her chin up high despite the whispers from the other students. Daphne was prefect now, which just served to show Hopkins had fingers in everything.

Draco politely avoided her, but at this point that wasn’t new.

But then Hopkins disappeared. Rumor was that he had gone with the foreign Aurors, having been given a job considering his accomplishments. Pansy didn’t know if that was true since the professors never confirmed anything.

It was more likely he had been expelled for what he had done to her. 

His friends seemed far too disappointed for Hopkins to have received a lucrative job offer so he had to have been expelled.

There was some discontent among the younger years at this rumor, though there was still no official word.

The worst part was that Draco didn’t even do anything differently. He still met up with Hopkins’s friends and, shockingly, his new bosom friend appeared to be Loony Lovegood. Pansy had snidely commented on him finally moving on only to get a sharp look and Draco warning her not to speak of Loony like that again. His tone was forbidding enough she listened.

But then in January, Draco abruptly disappeared. Hopkins’s other friends vanished at the same time. Zabini and Daphne had no information – at least none they were willing to share. 

There was a rumor one of the foreign Aurors had been spotted in the library before speaking to Abbott, but as the source seemed to be some young Hufflepuffs, not many thought it held any stock. There had been an Auror in Hogwarts – more people could confirm that. The same Auror had also apparently taunted Pince, though that was even more bizarre.

That part of the rumor drowned out the one where the Auror had spoken to Abbott, but Pansy couldn’t ignore that, thinking of the pieces she did have. As Hopkins had apparently left with these foreign Aurors before…maybe it was more likely than people thought.

Maybe the expulsion was more severe… Yet if that was the case, shouldn’t they be speaking to her? He had to have been expelled. There wasn’t another reason for it. But then why pull all his friends into it? Draco?

Her father wasn’t able to pull any information from Draco’s. It seemed Lucius Malfoy was playing things very close to his chest after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. 

Pansy fretted and worried, wanting nothing more than to find out what was happening to Draco.

There was a brief moment of panic when the wards fell once more and the students outside in the snow reported seeing a skeletal figure that more resembled an Inferi than a human being. The figure had felt like a Dementor, only it hadn’t looked like one.

And then it had vanished, though no one could quite agree how. Only they had seen someone appear in front of it before disappearing in a blur of black robes. The only sign anything had even happened were the broken wards, the melted snow and dead grass, and the terrified students who had been there.

The wards were gone, although the professors promised they would be up soon again. They did not have any answers for what had happened. Neither did the Ministry beyond empty promises that they would investigate.

It went to show that Hopkins had zero hand in what had happened with the Dementors last time. He had simply taken advantage of it to shine.

It was only a shame Draco had missed it.

There was no news until February when Draco and everyone else reappeared without a word. They refused to give any explanations beyond that news would soon be released. Even the professors said the same, even if some of them had rather constipated expressions on relaying this information.

Pansy didn’t have to wait long, the Prophet blaring the news the following day that Hopkins’s parents were alive and well, having apparently gone into hiding directly before the attack by the Dark Lord, so they had narrowly avoided being killed.

…They were alive? They had been alive all this time? And Hopkins had created such a big fuss about them being dead when he knew full well they’d been alive? He had let Draco blame himself? He had let the entire school go on believing that?

Draco still offered no answers beyond confirming the news was true. The same went for Hopkins’s other lackeys. It was clear Hopkins would be returning. The only question was when. 

So he’d never been expelled, Pansy thought sourly. The foreign Aurors had probably been in cahoots about what had happened to his parents. She still didn’t see where Draco came into the picture but at least the puzzle fit together a little better now.

The following day’s Prophet had a little more information, including a new picture of the happy family and a small interview with quotes by all three of them. Hopkins’s was perfect as always.

The entire school seemed to be ecstatic over the news. No one seemed to realize what this actually meant. No one seemed to understand that Hopkins had been fooling all of them and milking it for sympathy points. That he wasn’t the hero he wanted to paint himself as. 

It was pathetic.

Theodore said nothing when Pansy complained about it. Neither did Millicent except to point out that perhaps Hopkins hadn’t known until recently. 

How could he not have? His parents had fled before the Dark Lord attacked, meaning it was premeditated. They’d expected it.

Instead he had put on a flawless act of the miserable survivor, soldiering on because he had to, letting Draco think it was his own fault for what had happened.

At least he had made it clear he wasn’t interested in Draco. Maybe Draco would understand how awful he was.

Only he didn’t. Only he had apparently been snogging Hopkins. Snogging him outside the Slytherin Common Room!

Pansy couldn’t stop thinking about overhearing the third years talk about how that had been Draco Malfoy kissing someone by a torch and it had looked like Hopkins. She couldn’t stop thinking about properly confronting Draco about it and Draco basically confirming it was true.

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was another false alarm.

But the infernal bet the Weasel twins had started years ago was called the next day. It was called and the news about Hopkins and Draco finally having gotten their acts together was all over Hogwarts.

She couldn’t stop looking over to where Hopkins and Draco were sitting together at the Hufflepuff table. She couldn’t stop seeing how Draco would watch Hopkins with literal stars in his eyes, lovestruck smiles, and how Hopkins… Hopkins seemed indifferent.

He was absolutely indifferent. The small smiles he gave Draco seemed smugly self-satisfied. He knew exactly what he had done with bringing Draco back into the fold and with finally telling him yes. 

It was maddening how no one else could see it.

Tracey sighed about how nice it was to see the two of them happy together. Hopkins kept doing small things for Malfoy and making sure he was taken care of. She wanted to find someone like that, too.

Millicent agreed as well and said it was nice that Draco was no longer moping around. Wasn’t Hopkins sweet with how shy he was about showing affection? She’d seen them holding hands a few times but he was always so discreet and considerate about making sure Malfoy was comfortable.

Daphne had nothing to say beyond some small smiles and nods of agreement. When asked for more information as she was also in the study group now, she would just say they seemed happy but they kept things to themselves. She wasn’t going to give them any juicy gossip. They should ask Hopkins or Draco for that information if they dared. 

Pansy listened to this all in disbelief. They were so blind to what it all meant.

Blind to the fact that Hopkins was playing Draco and that he would throw him aside the moment he got what he wanted. 

He certainly was getting something judging from how dazed Draco sometimes looked in the mornings. It was mortifying seeing that faraway expression and how it took him seconds too long to respond to questions from the younger years. Pansy wasn’t even a prefect able to catch them in the act, and Daphne certainly wasn’t going to. 

But she had to do something.

Theodore cautioned her, reminding her of what Potter had apparently said about what Hopkins had done on the Astronomy Tower as well as what had happened with the Dementors. He wasn’t a wizard to be trifled with.

It was ridiculous. Those were just rumors.

They were rumors and Pansy held no stock in rumors like that. Shouldn’t Theodore know better? Knowing exactly what they themselves did to manipulate people like that?

(She remembered feeling like prey before a predator, but that was idiotic. She had clearly been mistaken.)

Pansy was going to rip off that mask of Hopkins’s one way or the other and expose him. And Draco would finally see him for what he was.

But then she was choking on acid, choking on poison, unable to breathe, and a frog dropped to the floor in front of her. She was surrounded by jeers, surrounded by laughter, by Hopkins’s mocking face and him casually saying she was going to regret it.

Snape spoke to her, saying, “You should be careful of messing with forces beyond your control, Ms. Parkinson.” His eyes were too knowing, like he knew exactly what had happened to her and who was responsible, but he refused to agree to her declaration that it had been Hopkins, merely saying that it was a baseless accusation.

She coughed up several more frogs in the Common Room, each one brightly colored, though it seemed the green became lighter and lighter with every frog that hit the floor. Every time she tried to say something to Draco, tried to say that he was selling his body for absolutely nothing, she couldn’t breathe, choking on another bloody frog.

No one in the Common Room approached her. Even Theodore was wary of what could possibly happen. They whispered and stared and shied away.

But she knew. She knew it had been Hopkins. She knew he was the one responsible. And she could ruin him with this. He wouldn’t dare kill her, not with all eyes on him.

But he practically laughed in her face, daring her to do so because it wasn’t Dark Magic. He didn’t care. He looked like he considered her to be lower than dirt, not even worth his time and consideration.

Until suddenly there was something else on his face, something she’d never seen before, and his grip was impossible to remove. It was a weight on her shoulders and a glint in his eyes, something silvery and too-bright, that she had never seen.

He wasn’t human. He wasn’t human and she could prove it. She could call his bluff that Draco knew.

“So?” Draco said when she told him.

“He’ll kill you when he’s bored of you,” Pansy said desperately.

Draco’s lips twitched for an instant before he smiled. “What a ridiculous sentiment,” he said. “Wayne doesn’t get bored. And even if he did, I’d be more worried about the books.”

“Do you think he’ll let you go if you want to leave?” Pansy demanded. “Creatures like that – they don’t let you go. They’d kill you.”

There was no amusement now, just something much softer that Pansy hadn’t expected, only it vanished an instant later to be replaced by something much harder. “The last person I have to fear is Wayne Hopkins. And if you knew any better, you’d understand that as well. Give it up, Pansy. There’s nothing you can tell me about him that I don’t already know. Even if there was, it wouldn’t matter. I trust him with my life. I have already.”

“Draco—”

“No. This…” Draco sighed, and there was nothing but pity now. “Pansy. Please…move on. Whatever you were hoping for…it was never going to happen. It never can. You were once a friend. I don’t wish you ill, but don’t test your fate any further.”

He didn’t take her hand like he once would have. He didn’t bid her goodbye with a warm smile like he once would have. No, he simply looked at her for a long moment with those gray eyes and left her sitting there.

Alone.