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munson-blurbs · 2 months

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The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix.

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus.

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance.

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started.

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans.

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides.

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera.

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland.

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself.

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt.

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear.

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side.

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture.

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button.

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother.

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face.

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him.

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin.

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all.

“I’ve never been happier.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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night-vipers · 4 months

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Daddy Issues

Summary: A sudden visit to base by your estranged and abusive father brings back haunting memories from your childhood. Ghost feels like he's staring in a mirror and is there for you.

Warnings: Abusive parent, mentions of death, angst

"You suck at this game Soap" I laugh as he folds his cards for the 5th time in a row. He mutters something in his Scottish twang as he throws his cards on the table, obviously not a very good loser.

"I'm more of a Blackjack kind of guy" he says taking a sip of his drink. We had been winding down as a team, playing some poker after a run of successful missions. I sat beside Ghost who was secretly helping me with my cards, just to see the look on Soap's face when he lost. As we laughed, joked and talked shit the night moved on until one of the perimeter guards barged into the room, out of breath and with a concerned look on his face, his eyes landing straight on me.

"Sergeant, we need you to come to the front gate" he says to me as he straightens himself up.

I put my cards on the table and take the blanket off my legs "Sure, what's going on?" I ask as I begin to get up.

"There's a man demanding to speak to you, he says he is your father" the guard said, concern edging his words. The word 'father' made my blood run cold and it felt like I had been doused in ice cold water. I tried to hide the instant panic I felt as I got up and followed the guard towards the front gate. Ghost saw the way my expression and demeanour changed at the mention of my father and felt a certain unease about the situation, he decided to follow along following his gut instinct that this wasn't going to be good.

The walk down through the base and outside towards the front gate felt like it went in slow-motion. My whole body was tense and I felt like my teeth might crack with how hard I was gritting them together as we got closer to the gate. On approach I could hear yelling and it didn't take long for my fathers beat up and dented truck to come into view. It was the same truck that used to make my heart stop, the same truck that made me hide in my room as soon as I heard it pull into the driveway at home. In this moment I was a little girl again, facing the monster that altered me as a person for the rest of my life.

I was unaware that Ghost had followed behind and stood at the gate keeping a watchful eye on the situation. I motioned for the guards to step back and let me handle it as they retreated back to the gate. I took a deep breath and approached my father carefully, eyes alert like prey looking out for a predator. "Why are you here?" I question him as his eyes finally land on me.

"I came to find my dear old daughter, since you decided to run away from me" he slurred, his tone dangerous and not that of a caring father who missed his daughter.

"You're drunk" I sighed, rubbing neck nervously. I knew what happened when my father drank and it wasn't pretty.

"You think you can stand there and judge me" he snarled as he got closer "think just because you joined the army that you're not still the spoiled, nasty little girl we both know you are" he spat as he pointed his finger at me.

"You know nothing about me, you need to leave" I say, anger rising in my body.

"Don't talk to me like that" he says grabbing my shirt collar and jerking me forward "you're the reason my life turned to shit you ungrateful bitch. You're the reason your mother is dead" he growled in my face, the smell of whiskey smacking me in the face. That comment hit a nerve, a nerve that set my whole body on fire and I decided that it was time to say what I really thought.

"My mum is dead because of you" I yelled angrily as I pushed him back. "She killed herself so she didn't have to deal with the abuse, you didn't deserve her you piece of shit" I yelled as my chest heaved with anger. He smiled menacingly and before I could do anything he smacked me hard in the face, hard enough to send me tumbling into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was expecting a second blow but it didn't come. Ghost had enough of the scene in front of him and decided it was time to end this.

"Take her inside" I heard Ghost bark before walking past me towards my father. Two of the guards helped me to my feet and took me inside, I was in shock and didn't even look back to see what was happening behind me.

Ghost stomped up to my father and before he could say anything Ghost had him by the neck, up against the side of his truck and a knife to his throat. "You ever touch her again, they'll be finding pieces of you on every continent" Ghost growled, knife pressing into the skin on my fathers neck.

"Who the hell are you?" my father spits angrily as he tries to fight against Ghost but it's useless. Ghost is strong and a wall of muscle whilst my father is weak and the alcoholism has wrecked his body.

"You every come here again or try to talk to her again in any way and I'll make sure you lose the ability to speak" Ghost grunted, his threats not empty. "You have no idea who that woman is in there. She is brave, smart, strong and deserves the world at her feet" Ghost states, pressing the knife harder on my fathers skin until a trickle of blood runs down to his shirt. "Am I understood" he says, his glare deadly.

My father struggles for a moment before nodding "Say it" Ghost says, enunciating each word as he presses harder with the knife.

"I understand" my father spits unwillingly. Ghost stares him down for another moment before releasing him with a shove. My father stumbles and makes his way to the drivers door and climbs in clumsily.

"Don't ever let me see you again" Ghost snarls as my father quickly pulls away from the base. Ghost watches until the truck is a blur before heading back inside to find me and make sure I was okay.

I was sat on the floor of my bathroom, body trembling with a mixture of shock, fear and adrenaline. I sat staring at the floor, lost in the trauma of losing my mother and growing up with an abusive father who hated me. A gentle knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. "Come in" I mutter quietly. Ghost enters and crouches in front of me, eyes drawn to the bruise forming in the corner of my eye from the hit I received.

He holds his hand out to me and helps me off the floor, leading me to the bed and letting me sit. He goes back into the bathroom and gets a cloth damp with cold water and sits in front of me "Are you okay?" he asks softly, eyes on mine.

I nod quickly and bite down on my lip, knowing that I was an inch away from breaking completely "I'm fine" I whisper quietly, looking away from him. He sighs and lifts my chin with his finger, looking into my eyes again and seeing how glassy they were from all the emotions I was feeling in that moment.

"No you're not" he states simply and lifts the damp cloth to my eye. I flinch away subconsciously "easy it's okay" he says softly as he rests the cold compress against my eye. He moves some hair from my face and brings his hand to cup my cheek again. I lean into his touch a bit more and I can feel myself starting to break. My lip trembles and and I take a shuddered breath. Ghost moves the compress away and pulls me into his lap, snaking his arms around me protectively.

That was all it took to break me completely and I sobbed into his chest, letting out all the pain and fear I was feeling. He stroked my hair and ran his hand up and down my back in a soothing way. "He'll never hurt you again love, I promise" he whispers in my ear. I nod into his chest and sit upright, wiping away the stray tears from my cheeks. Ghost leans in and wipes another tear with his thumb and squeezes my leg reassuringly.

"You don't have to tell me about it tonight but when you can, I want to know the story" he says as he lays down in the bed and opens his arms, beckoning me to lay with him.

"Okay" I mumble and lay with him, my head resting on his chest as he wraps his arms around me again, his arms forming what felt like a protective barrier. In this moment I wasn't scared of my father, for the first time in my life.

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 headcanons #simon riley

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gaylordscooter · 19 days

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Direct Hit Through the Soul

Despite living together for months now, Killer and Dust still had their fights. Ironically enough, they were arguably the closest in the group.

These fights weren't exactly sparring matches between friends where they'd show off their bullet patterns. It was more like blowing off steam. Having high LV had consequences, after all.

They didn't exactly want to kill anyone, but the urge was there. Gaining EXP was addictive and they were essentially experiencing withdrawal. Fortunately for Horror, their urges were directed at each other and not him.

Killer and Dust were evenly matched in terms of power—they made Horror seem as weak as a Whimsun. Regardless, Horror would typically supervise their fights and call it off when they get too close to actually dusting the other.

This time, however, Horror was not here to supervise.

The forest was a mess. Without having to worry without collateral damage the two let loose.

Trees were uprooted, rocks were broken, plenty of scorch marks from blasters plastered the dirt.

This time, Dust started the fight and he intended to finish it.

He slammed Killer into a tree using blue magic. His soul pulsed wildly like it wanted to run away but Killer was giggling like a gossiping middle schooler.

Dust closed in on him, ready to deal the final blow.

Killer used the last of his energy to swing his knife at his neck, but Dust caught his wrist and wrenched the knife out of his hand.

He inspected the knife as if to taunt him.

Killer immediately knew he was planning to use his own knife against him yet that dumb smile stayed plastered on his face.

Dust adjusted his grip on the knife, getting ready. His eyelights were right on his soul.

The knife pierced through his soul and into his sternum.

Killer didn't make a sound. He didn't even flinch. He reacted as if it didn't hurt at all.

Dust checked his HP. He only had a tenth of his HP left. There was a rush of excitement that came from bringing him so close to death.

And then Killer laughed. It was like he heard the funniest joke of his life.

Dust released his hold on his soul, causing him to fall on the ground as he continued.

“i can't believe that didn't kill me!” he finally exclaimed. “a direct hit through the soul! do you know how much care you need to have for that to not kill?!”

Dust looked down at him, deadpan, debating on whether or not to speak. Surely it was obvious enough to Killer that their fights weren't actually to the death.

Then again, Horror would always have to step in after Killer got a nasty hit on him. Had it been Killer that won today, would he still be standing?

The knife was still lodged in his chest.

“did all those make out sessions make you soft?? i’m flattered, really, but if our positions were switched you’d be your namesake right now.” He stood up, looking at the knife still impaling him, probably wondering how the hell to get it out without dusting.

Or not, because his hand moved straight to the handle with obvious intent to yank it out as if it were a mere splinter.

Dust grabbed his wrist with a very audible sigh.

“you're right, that would kill me,” Killer replied, bringing his hand away from the handle. For once in his life, he actually guessed correctly what Dust was thinking. “guess i’ll have that there forever, i’ll have to name it. what about uhh, mildred?”

Dust blankly stared at him.

“yeah, that’s a dumb name. maybe something fierce, like debbie.”

Dust rolled his eyelights and brought his hand close to his soul.

Now was the time Killer decided to flinch. “woah, hey, whatcha doing?”

Dust paused and spelled “heal” with his other hand.

“you can use healing magic?” Killer asked in disbelief. He lost his ability to use healing magic long ago, and even back then he was horrible at it. He couldn't even heal Papyrus after he scratched his knee from a fall. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't proficient at magic in general. There was a reason why he resorted to using primarily knives.

Dust answered by demonstrating.

Killer watched in intrigue as he felt his HP rise. It didn't look like Dust was doing anything but holding his hand near his soul. He wondered how it worked.

And then the usual target-shape of his soul shifted into the shape of a normal monster soul.

Killer's breath hitched and Dust’s eye sockets widened.

Killer shoved him away. He wasn't fully healed yet but he was at half at least. He yanked the knife out with a hiss. He could feel the pain. It wasn't the numb pins-and-needles feeling he’d usually have instead.

“what the hell did you do?” he asked. It was like the floodgates to his emotions were smashed open. “what the fuck did you do?!” he repeated, brandishing the knife coated in his own marrow.

“i was just healing you,” Dust muttered.

“my soul’s an entirely different shape!” he barked.

“it's the shape of a normal monster soul now.”

“well, it ain’t normal for me!”

“why are you freaking out?”

Killer backed away from Dust as he tried to put a hand on his shoulder. It felt like the world was spinning and it was disorienting.

Why was he freaking out? Because he could now. He was able to and that threw him off. He was so used to pretending and faking it he forgot what it actually felt like to have emotions.

It was almost like he was Sans again, but he knew he was still only an echo of him. What was more apparent is that he had no control over his emotions.

He felt guilt. He felt confused. He even felt love towards Dust. But fear overwhelmed him the most.

And then his soul reverted to his usual shape and the world stilled.

Dust was looking at him weird as if he had any right to.

“never do that again,” Killer said. He took off to the castle without another word.

Dust suspected he was going straight to his room. He probably wasn't going to leave it for the rest of the day either. He was sure that wasn't the first time Killer’s soul changed shape. There was that night they decided they could hang out without any drugs. His soul was all sorts of shapes that night, but notably it was that same upside down heart shape by the end of the night. He wasn't sure why it was such a big deal to him now. Maybe he never noticed before.

I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU COULDN’T FINISH HIM OFF.

He was pretty sure if he killed him Nightmare would kill him too.

THAT WASN’T THE ONLY REASON YOU COULDN’T KILL HIM.

God forbid he cares about someone.

THAT “SOMEONE” IS A DIRTY BROTHER KILLER.

He didn't give a shit about that at this point no matter how much the stupid voice in his head would try to say otherwise.

HE’S PERFECT FOR YOU. BECAUSE HE’S UTTERLY HORRIBLE.

He agreed with the second part. He is horrible.

HE’S GOING TO HURT YOU. HE ALREADY HAS.

Killer entered the kitchen, stumbling around. At first Horror thought he was drunk or something and then he noticed how low his HP was.

“didja get hit by a truck?” he asked. Usually he’d be concerned for his safety, but this was Killer. It was a common occurrence for something like this to happen.

“yeah,” he deadpanned. He rummaged through the pantry and took out a bag of chips. He opened the bag by popping it. Somehow that ended up working out for him.

Horror grimaced at the loud noise. “you gotta stop opening chip bags that way.”

Killer shoved a handful of chips into his mouth, crunching loudly in reply.

Horror groaned, shaking his head disapprovingly. “where's dust at? don't tell me you killed him.”

“he won the fight, actually,” he said with his mouth full. “drove my knife right through my soul.”

Horror's sockets went blank in shock. “he did?” He looked at him as if he’d crumble into a pile of dust at any moment.

“yeah,” he chuckled, “isn’t that pathetic? he couldn't kill me with a hit to the soul.”

“how high’s your defense?” It was a dumb question, but he asked anyway.

“doesn't matter. that would’ve killed me no matter what, unless he didn't intend to, and here i am standing here.”

If there was a single part of Dust that wanted him dead he wouldn't be standing, much less alive. Killer didn't know why that was so shocking to him, that he survived that. Sure, they've been living together for awhile and got all buddy-buddy, but to Killer it was all an act—turned out he was the only one acting.

Any malice would’ve killed him. So how did he survive?

The answer was obvious yet he still couldn’t believe it.

“so, where's he now?”

Killer shrugged, pouring more of the chips into his mouth. “i left him in the forest,” he said, voice muffled.

Horror’s eye darted to the windows as if he'd be able to see Dust from here. “what's the deal with you two anyway?”

“huh?”

“you two fight nearly to the death and yet you hang out almost every night.” He vividly remembered that time he was woken up by the sound of a blaster. Nightmare was pretty mad about that.

“it's something to do.” He shrugged again.

“so you're just using him for entertainment?”

Killer scoffed, “you say that like i haven't told you two repeatedly that i don't feel anything.” Finished with the chips, he crumpled up the bag and tossed it to the trash bin, missing.

“which you're obviously lying about,” he challenged. “besides, you don't have to exploit him like that.”

“psh, you're acting like he's not a powerful monster that almost killed me a second ago,” he said nonchalantly.

Horror glared at him, standing straight instead of slouching to gain an edge on him. “let's say you don’t feel anything, then. you toy with dust, acting like you have a little crush on him. and it annoyed him at first, but ever since that night we played truth or dare something changed—he started to like you.”

“no he didn't,” Killer hissed.

“but you, who ‘can’t feel anything’, never liked him in the first place. you lead him on, purposefully.”

“it's not—we’re not, there are no feelings between us. it's just hedonism, an inside joke, even. you wouldn't get it.”

The door to the kitchen opened.

Killer perked up at the sight of Dust. “tell him, dust. i didn't lead you on, there aren't any feelings between us.”

Dust ignored him and walked straight to the hallway. He slammed the door when he left.

“that was very convincing,” Horror said sarcastically.

“shut up!” Killer snipped. “he just didn’t feel like talking.”

Horror gave him a stern look. “you being dense on purpose?”

Killer ground his teeth and grumbled incoherently.

“i’m taking that as a yes.”

“‘m going to my room,” he mumbled and took off.

“you aren’t gonna apologize to him?” Horror asked.

Killer scoffed, “apologize about what? telling the truth? he’ll get over it.”

He did not get over it.

#utmv fic #killer x dust #kist #they're going through their divorce arc

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sadie-bug345 · 16 days

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I love your headcanons! They’re so goofy but character accurate. Anyway I was wondering if you’d maybe do all the greasers + Cherry with a trad goth/alt s/o hcs? Thank you so much!!! 🖤🖤🖤

omg hiiii and your wish is my command‼️🥰

the greasers (+cherry baby) w trad goth / alt s/o!!

ponyboy: - the second you moved into town he was like obsessed - just cause your vibe wasn’t like anyone else’s he’d really met - so he worked up the nerve to talk to you thinking you’d like shun him (bro was fr going thru ALL the possible rejection that could happen😭) - he was like “…hi🖐️😀” and just stood there sweatin up a storm LMAO - and you’re just like “hello?🧍‍♀️” - LOVE CONNECTION INSTANT - yall are the sweetest together and pony’s wardrobe changes a little so it’s more like yours - just cause he loves the way it looks on you sm.

johnny: - your vibe fits his (and dally’s but that’s later🤫) really well - so when he first saw you his exact thoughts were like “man. she’s cool” - so my guy went thru all of ponyboys yearbooks like just trying to find out anything and everything abt you - clubs, sports, music, voted most likely to’s…you name it johnny found it cause he was too scared to approach you at first - pony walked in on him scavenging last years yearbook and was like 😐 this has gotta end my boy - so after some aggressive encouragement from dally, johnny approached you and you guys really hit it off - you guys are like the gangs power couple FOR SURE - everyone loves your style and vibe but johnny especially, duh!

sodapop: - this is definitely an opposites attract sitch - like johnny he saw you and was like “i gotta find out more” cause he had never dated anyone like you before - he probably went up to talk to you and accidentally spilled about how he knew you were in middle school band and played the clarinet but switched to the flute halfway thru seventh grade or smth😭😭🫶 - yall definitely turn heads when you guys are hanging out together - no one can deny the cuteness😔🖐️

darry: -my guy is a little more conservative when it comes to style - we know he be dressing like a divorced dad out here - BUT he noticed you around town and was def intrigued - totally starts listening to the music you like just to have a conversation starter - this boy PLANS - after a while of you guys dating you give him a lil makeover and it’s very sweet (especially cause he needed the wardrobe refresh🫢)

dally: - your vibe and his is super similar, or at least he thinks he’s as effortlessly cool as you🙄 - anyways he was fr like “now this is the kinda person i wanna know” - didn’t need any encouragement to go talk to you *cough* johnny *cough* - either way he tried to start up a convo all “smooth” or whatever and you’re just like “😳uhm anyways…” - kinda gave him the humbling he needs but you thought his unrealized awkwardness was cute - you guys are birds of a feather but he definitely loves showing you off to his friends - just cause he thinks you’re like, actually the coolest - he won’t tell you how he feels but it’s obvious.

two-bit: - this guy is so goofy - sees you from across the room and starts cracking the LOUDEST and DUMBEST jokes just to see you hopefully smile - and he’s funny so you’re like halfway cringing but also halfway dying laughing - you’re probably like “who even is this kid💀” LMAO - anyways after he saw you laugh my dude just talks your ear off - after you get a few words in about your interests and general style bro was so obsessed - he didn’t really think he’d like a girl with your style but he was wronggg - you guys have probably the most fun together out of the group ngl.

steve: - probably heard abt you from soda - LIVES for your outfits like he’s so obsessed he’s like “hmm i wonder what they’re gonna wear today” - just cause he thinks you’re so cool and unique - definitely frequents the places you usually hang out just in the hopes of “casually” running into you LMAO - you guys are super cute though like no one really expected it - which makes it so much better.

cherry: - being a cheerleader she doesn’t usually date people with your style - her exes just are kinda basic - BUT she saw you and was like “oh. so i’m like in love” - HOPELESS ROMANTIC CHERRY🫶😭 - it was like a rom com she like did an actual double take - after you guys start dating you two do everything together - you give her makeovers like all the time - it’s so sweeeeet - plus you kinda revamp her wardrobe - dw she still has THE cherry valance vibe - but she matches your outfits in the little details - matching rings, necklaces, skirts, shoes, anything.

thanks so much to the wonderful person who requested this!! my requests are always open!🧌🥰🫶

#dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #matt dillon #the outsiders #the outsiders sodapop #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy curtis #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews #steve randle #steve randle x reader #darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #outsiders #the outsiders au

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certifiedtrashmouth · 1 year

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Oh gosh I don’t wanna repeat someone and I’m not sure about Xmas traditions but what about ridiculous stocking stuffers w Eddie? Fluff/humor.

oh, god. this one also got out of hand. started in light-hearted fun and ended in fluff that had me screaming into my pillow. i'm sorry for the length.

good for one kiss (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: none really. mentions of penis??? (eddie makes a joke about his dick and there's mention of a blowjob but no description lol), mentions of cigarettes, idiots in love. best friends to lovers.

“What am I supposed to do with a single piece of gum?”

“What am I supposed to do with a single cigarette?”

“Smoke it, idiot.”

“It’s broken, idiot.”

“Oh.”

You and Eddie sit cross-legged across from each other on his bed on Christmas Eve, partaking in your annual gift exchange. But there was a catch; each year, you exchanged stockings, only gifting each other what you could fit in the glorified, fleece-lined socks. There had only been two exceptions to the rule of the years - the year you’d gifted Eddie his first professional-grade amp and he’d bawled like a baby (once he’d dried his tears, he’d threatened you and Wayne both endlessly about ever letting the story leave the room. The two of you had exchanged a look, though, knowing neither of you would ever let him live it down.) and the year Eddie had bought you your first acoustic six-string with the promise of lessons from him (it was onyx black and shined with promise as Eddie explained the two of you needed to use paint markers to decorate it).

It was going on five years of the tradition that had stemmed from both of you never being able to afford much for each other, but still wanting to show you care nevertheless. And as the years had gone on, the gifts had slowly found their rhythm. There was always a perfect mixture of cliche throwaway gifts, gag gifts, and gifts so sentimental that some tears were sure to be shed by one of the parties.

“I didn’t think it would break,” you scrunch your nose slightly as Eddie holds up the cigarette, limp from the crack in the middle of it.

“What did you expect, just throwing it in here like that?” Eddie laughs, not bothered in the slightest. He had a pack of Camels snug in the pocket of his leather jacket slung over his desk chair. It was the thought that counted, after all.

“I expected it to be absolutely fucking invincible for how expensive the pack was,” you whine, and he can’t help but watch you with bemusement, “I spent my last dollar from my tips on that damn pack.”

The mention of that softens the look in Eddie’s eyes. He knew the two of you struggled to come up with enough money to even keep up this tradition; he had hardly seen you due to how many spare shifts you’d been picking up at Benny’s the last few weeks.

You catch the look, immediately straighten up, “No, no, no. Don’t even go there, Munson. I can see you going there. Come back to me, idiot.”

Idiot. The term of endearment you’d coined for him since you’d first met in sophomore year of high school. He’d heard it in a dozen different tones - elated, annoyed, exhausted - but not a single one held an ounce of genuine negativity towards him. You made idiot sound like my love.

He wasn’t your lover, though. He kicked himself in the shins every morning over it, always telling himself that today was the day and I’m going to tell her how I feel finally.

Spoiler alert. He never did.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he offers up his own loving nickname for you, “I just know you’ve been busting your ass at Benny’s-”

“Yes, I have, because I want to spoil you for the holidays. I don’t regret a single second of it. Even when those creepy old men tried to shove the dollar bills in my shirt rather than just hand them to me.”

You both laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been very funny when it happened, leading to you calling Eddie crying and him coming to your rescue, but enough time had passed to see the humor in it all.

The rest of the gift exchange goes as expected for the most part. The gag gifts pull the appropriate amount of laughter, and the more genuine gifts pull a softness out of each other that nearly had each of your eyes’ pupils forming hearts.

Eddie fawns over a pack of pics you’d had customized with Corroded Coffin’s logo, and you react just as bluntly as expected when you pull a long red candle from your stocking, looking up to Eddie blankly.

“For when I finally sacrifice you in the woods,” he explains with a cheesy grin, “Gotta have candles if we’re going to worship Satan, sweetheart.”

“Ha-ha,” you dead pan, tilting your head slightly as you keep a straight face, completely unimpressed, “You’re hilarious, Munson.”

“Hey, I could have made a sex joke,” he throws up his hands in a defensive manner, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the ground in faux shyness.

“Yeah, yeah - you could have made a sex joke,” you mumble as you shove the candle to the side, a smile still escaping the corners of your mouth.

“As a matter of fact, I still can. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you replaced my stocking this year, darling, and that it’s noticeably larger. Finally big enough to fit over my massive dic-”

“You’re disgusting,” you interrupt, grabbing the candle and now whacking one of his knees with it, making him fall victim to an uncontrollable giggling fit, “Have you ever been told that? Let me be the first to tell you - you’re absolutely vile, Edward Munson.”

You don’t mean it, and he knows you don’t. You’re both laughing too much over it.

You’re starting to get to the bottom of the stockings now. You each have an odd arrangement of candy that had been included in each respective stocking - Eddie is socking on a blue jolly rancher, being sure to make annoying slurping noises to get a rise out of you, as you nibble on a miniature candy cane. There’s only one gift left in your stocking, a small box that you only reach for once you rewrap the candy cane in the plastic wrap it’d come in that you’d saved to avoid getting sticky fingers.

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling it out and letting the empty stocking fall into your lap.

Eddie looks up from where he was preoccupied with attempting to open another jolly rancher. His eyes light up from the present in your palm, “Oh, only saving the best one for last, sweet thing.”

You look at him questioningly, but begin to slide your finger under the delicate edge of the small box regardless. It takes concentration to pry open the box without tearing it, but you do, you gasp.

In a bed of cotton, there’s a necklace.

It looks like a copy of Eddie’s signature pick necklace. But instead of the dark swirling black between clouds of burgundy red, it shines with pearlescent opal white and ruby red, glimmering on a silver chain as if it were made of jewels.

When you gently lift it from the box, it’s clear it’s not a real pick. It’s heavier - Hell, it might actually be made of gemstones.

“Eddie-” you gasp, cutting yourself off, mesmerized by the beauty.

He’s nearly shaking with delight, “It’s a locket. Look, open it.”

You see what he means immediately, realizing that the weight was from the thickness of the faux pick. There’s a subtle seam, with a silver lock on the side that clicks gently when you press on it. The locket swings open, and inside is a snug photo of you and Eddie. You can pinpoint exactly when the photo was taken; it was at your birthday party two years ago, both of you laughing with cake icing on the tips of your nose. The photo is in dramatic black and white, but you can still picture how obnoxiously red your cheeks were with Eddie’s arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you two lost it over God knows what.

You feel yourself beginning to tear up, completely stunned, “I- Oh my God, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with how I’m the best friend ever,” he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you let out a breathless laugh.

“It’s…God, it’s beautiful. This- This is too much, Eddie. I can’t imagine how expensive-”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, waving his hands frantically, refusing to listen to your lecture. He didn’t care if it had cost him everything he owned, down to the clothes on his back - it was worth it to see that look on your face. “Don’t even start, sweetheart. One of Wayne’s friends at the plant has a wife who makes jewelry for a living. We got the family discount because she thought the idea was so dang adorable,” his voice pitches to mock the mystery woman, and it makes you tearily laugh some more.

You look back down at the open locker, finger tracing over the opposite side from the photo.

E. It’s engraved in cursive. As if you’d ever forget the initial of the boy in the photo - the boy in front of you.

“You really had to choose the photo that made me look like a dork, didn’t you?” you softly tease under your breath, staring at the memory in unfiltered fondness.

“Someone’s got to keep you humble,” he retorts.

You ignore his comment, standing quickly and holding the necklace out to him, “Help me put it on?”

He doesn’t hesitate to leap off the bed to your side, taking the chain gingerly before you turn and face your back to him. His movements are careful and deliberate as he brushes your hair off to the side, cold fingers skimming over your skin and sending shivers down your spine before he loops the necklace around the front of your chest. You can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp for a few moments before finding success.

“Aha! Perfect,” he claps as you spin around, grinning giddily at the weight that sits naturally between your collarbones. It gives you a sense of security, a sense of comfort, a sense of home.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you earnestly say, voice crumbling with emotions as your smile shines and you lift a hand to pinch the necklace between two fingers. The locket is smooth as you rub over it, “I love it.”

His face reflects your happiness right back before you suddenly throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He returns it immediately, squeezing you back just as strongly. You both melt into the hug, comfortable as you eventually beginning to just-barely-sway in the middle of Eddie’s room, chests pressed together as hearts beat in sync.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair before placing a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Merry Christmas, Eds.”

You finally pull away, both of you returning to your original positions on the bed. Gifts are scattered around you, mixing with candy and wrappers, as Eddie pulls up his stocking and begins to shake it upside down.

“There’s not any more gifts, Eddie, you already opened them-” you cut yourself off, the smile that had your cheeks aching still fading when a piece of paper flutters from his stocking.

Oh no.

“No more gifts, you say?” he smirks in your direction, picking up the folded note, “What’s this, then?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’d forgotten about that. When you’d been wrapping Eddie’s gifts the night before, Robin had joined you to keep you company. The two of you had broken into a few bottles of wine around the house when you had a bright idea (at least, at the time it seemed bright. Now, it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. Ever.). Coupons for Eddie, ranging from redemption for kisses to redemption for more… explicit acts. To be fair, Robin had egged you on, knowing of your hopeless crush of two years on your best friend. You’d folded each ‘coupon’ and sealed them with kisses from red lipstick the two of you had dug out of your desk drawers. You’d chickened out when the buzz from the wine faded, and pulled all of the ridiculous notes out before properly filling the stocking with his actual gifts.

Or at least, you thought you’d gotten all of the notes out. Clearly, you hadn’t.

“Don’t open that!” you blurt out, lurching forward and attempting to snatch the paper from Eddie. It only makes his smirk grow, hand shooting out away from you, glancing wildly between you and the kiss-stained paper.

“Now you’ve really got me curious,” he mocks, pulling a face at you as he brings the paper back to his face, beginning to unfold it.

“No, Eddie, seriously, don’t read it. Please. It was so stupid, I- Robin and I were drinking, and I just…” you trail off in your explanation as he completely disregards you and his eyes trail over your scribbled words.

You didn’t even know which one had been left behind. You could only hope it was one of the less vulgar ones.

“Is this a joke?” he asks softly. You’re shocked - you’d expected merciless teasing. Not whatever look was currently in his eyes.

“What?” you ask, trying to peer over to see what the paper said. Depending on which dumb coupon it was, your answer would change, “I- Sort of. Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

You begin to wring your hands in your lap, waiting for him to respond. You felt so nauseated you considered escaping to the bathroom. Maybe you could die of embarrassment in the Munson men’s bathtub.

But then you remember it’s the Munson men’s bathtub, and decide the better fate may lay here, Eddie glancing up at you with moving curiosity, eyebrows furrowed.

Your cheeks burn crimson as you wish for the Earth to swallow you whole.

“Yes or no? Is it a joke?” he asks again, a stern tone that manages to not come across angry.

Your stomach and chest twist in sync, “No. It isn’t a joke.”

Suddenly, Eddie is taking the note and thrusting it towards you, eyes blown wide and chest heaving.

“Then I’d like to redeem it now, please.”

You don’t realize it, but the room had started spinning the moment Eddie had read what was written down. It felt like a dream - a dream he’d indulged in with no hopes of it ever coming true for an embarrassingly long amount of time now.

Your hands shake as you reach out to take the note from him, and you look down to see just how much drunk you had screwed you over in this moment.

In your messy handwriting, it reads: Coupon for Eddie Munson - good for one (1) kiss. To be redeemed at Eddie’s discretion.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful it wasn't a vulgar one, before the reality of what Eddie had just requested hits you.

“Did you just- did you just say you want to redeem it now?”

Eddie nods, a determined look crossing his face, “Yes, please.”

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the emotions in the air sink in. It takes a moment before you both break out into withheld, shy smiles.

“Okay,” you sigh.

Before you can overthink it, you’re both leaning forward, Eddie’s hands cupping your cheeks as his lips meet yours tenderly. It’s just a peck, nothing more, but it sends your heart into cardiac arrest. You can still taste the jolly ranchers on his lips, and he tastes the sweet mint of the candy cane on yours.

You both pull back slightly, his hands not leaving your face, knees pressing together. Your eyes had fluttered close, and you don’t have the guts to open them quite yet and face the consequences of what had just happened between the two of you.

“I like you,” you admit quietly, your entire body tensing as you await rejection.

It doesn’t come. Instead, you’re met with the sound of Eddie’s gentle voice, “I like you, too.”

Your eyes finally spring open to already find him staring at you with adoration. “You do?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart. I let you touch my first sweetheart. I only give that privilege to the prettiest of girls,” he laughs, eyes flickering to your lips but still keeping his distance.

“You’ve only let me have that privilege.”

“Exactly.”

He finally closes the distance again, lips slotting against yours as if they’re meant to be. Something clicks in the Universe, something that says that this is right and meant to happen. Two years of silent and hopeless pining, only to find out both your feelings were returned. It leaves the two of you delirious as you both deepen the kiss. Somehow, Eddie ends up scooting up his bed until his back meets the wall where his headboard would be if he had one, you straddling his lap. It’s all still so innocent; just the two of you, soft and sickly sweet kisses as you hold one another as if you expect the other to vanish.

“Merry Christmas, Eds,” you repeat your earlier statement and reach up to his gifted locket on instinct now. It feels right. You and him this close, you and him kissing, the photo of you resting against your chest where it belongs.

“Best Christmas ever,” he chuckles before he captures you in another kiss.

He’s right. It’s safe to say the two of you struggle to ever top that Christmas. You make it a running joke to always include coupons in his stocking from that year on. Each year, the coupons get better, sometimes raunchy and sometimes just downright adorable.

Good for one cuddle.

Good for one blowjob (don’t waste it).

Good for one surprise date night.

They’re always fairly clever, and each year, he thinks you get closer to topping that first note.

But it’s not until years down the road, when the two of you sit across from each other in your now shared living room, in some big city you now call home, that he knows that he had finally topped that year. The look on your face when you dig into the bottom of your stocking, finding the small box that contains the diamond ring he’d been saving up for ever since that first kiss, tells him everything he needs to know.

It’s still pretty nice when he hears you squeal yes out loud, though.

#twenty four hours of christmas #writing #asks #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #this one... this one got to me #but in a soft way

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

Hi there! Can i request platonic hcs of Poppy x best friend reader. So lets say Poppy finally joined Naranja/Uva academy and was sadly proven true where many kids were intimadated by her status as an Elite Four, causing her to be isolated by the other kids. But after a few days since she joined the school, a new kid from another region came. The new kid had become the most talked subject around school which cause Poppy to get curious herself. So then she met the reader and quickly become fast friends with them as they didnt know of her Elite Four status

Idk if you notice but i kinda frame this up to be similar to Nemona’s and the Protag’s friendship, so can i also have the rest of the elite four + Nemona and Geeta reacting to Poppy now having a best friend?

(Btw the reader is from Alola and you can choose whatever pokemon you want them to have as their partner as long their from Alola)

Hope you have a good day/night!

- 🪷 Anon

Thank you! Hope you have a good day/night too!

For a split second I thought this was about Poppy Playtime until I read the academy names lmao

........

For a while, Poppy wanted to pursue her studies at Naranja/Uva Academy, seeing as she was at the age where she could attend school.

But her worries about being seen as "different" held her back, although her fellow Elite Four members convinced her and she finally made the choice to enroll.

As she feared, however, students and staff instantly recognized her and were shocked.

They kept wondering if she was here for some inspection, never fully believing she was just trying to be a normal student and forget about her E4 responsibilities.

Unfortunately everywhere she went, kids were intimidated by her status, not wanting to be paired-up with her in battle studies (to the point where Ms. Dendra made them, lest she lowered their grades).

Honestly it made Poppy feel sad, knowing she's getting special treatment from teachers AND frightened looks from kids her age.

She just wanted to make friends, but these past few days have made her feel lonelier than ever...

Or at least, until she overhears chatter about you, the newest exchange student from Alola.

She only picked up a few things, among them being your unique Pokémon nobody has ever seen before...and this gets her curious little mind wondering who you are.

Turns out, you're in most of her classes and always willing to become her partner for assignments!

You didn't know she was an E4 member (heck, you didn't even know Hassel was either), so you struck up a friendship with her rather quickly.

The "unique Pokémon" in question is a very tame Kartana, who looked like an origami project you made in art class--but was really a grass/steel type, which absolutely thrilled Poppy.

If a steel type is your partner, you're automatically upgraded to best friend.

Every now and then, you and her would have battles in and outside the academy (although ofc she holds back a LOT as she's afraid you'll be scared off if you knew her status).

You do wonder why your classmates keep ostracizing her. She was a sweet kid.

When one teen mentions her status, you find that hard to believe and tell them to stop joking around......until you see the look on Poppy's face, meaning they aren't.

You stop her after class, asking if the rumors were true, and she starts crying despite her best efforts to hold back the tears.

"Woah hey! What's wrong?"

"What's wrong??? I-I...I kept such a..a-a big secret from you!! That's what's wrong!!" She sniffles, afraid she's going to lose your friendship over this.

Why did that meanie have to go and do that?

Long story short, your Kartana finds and drags that kid back to you and Poppy, and you make them apologize to her. They definitely learned their lesson after the UB threateningly sharpens its blades while you're scolding them.

That day, Poppy discovers you are a true best friend who doesn't treat her any differently and gives you tons of exp candies as a token of her gratitude.

She becomes more confident in herself, excitedly telling the other Pokémon League members and Nemona (who recently battled her during class) about her new bff.

Hassel, who has seen your friendship grow from the start, is like a proud grandad (and totally didn't sob over it).

Larry appears indifferent, but he does smile a little, glad to hear she's adjusting to the Academy life well.

Rika and Geeta, who were the ones that pushed her to pursue school, couldn't be prouder to see Poppy doing better and finding a great friend such as yourself who didn't judge her.

They had their initial concerns, but realized she was going to be okay after all.

Nemona can 100% relate when she learns how other kids were scared of Poppy bc of her battling skills, and she's thrilled she found a friend who wasn't like that and enjoyed battling her even after learning the truth.

#clanask #lotus anon #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #platonic #pokemon poppy #kartana #headcanons

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calistrae · 1 year

Text

ville de l'amour. a trent alexander-arnold blurb

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x gn!reader

requested: yes

request: hii can i request reader and trent maybe in paris and he proposes under the eiffel tower in the dark?

warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, obnoxious lovey-dovey couple activities

notes: no proposal under the eiffel tower, simply because i personally think it's overrated, instead check out the luxembourg gardens and you'll see why i picked it as inspiration for this! tysm for requesting and all the love on my fics! 🧸🤍 (not proofread as per usual lmao)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had no idea, what your boyfriend had planned for your holiday in paris, but his requests and suggestions had made you beyond suspicious of his plans.

why did he have the sudden urge to go to paris, despite having never shown interest in it? why had he suddenly asked you to dress up? why was he looking so formal when all you were doing was taking a little walk?

not that you were complaining. paris was beautiful and the man strolling through the gardens with you was a god. you could swear he was a divine being walking this earth. from the bottom to the top, he looked gorgeous, especially in this sunlight. what had you done to deserve this? to deserve him?

you never realized you were staring until his words brought you out of your trance. "you never realized you were staring until his words brought you out of your trance. "my love?" he spoke, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he kept it in his own. "huh?" was all you could reply, having been torn away from your thoughts.

"what were you staring at?" he questioned with a wide grin on his lips and from that smile alone, you knew you'll never be hearing the end of it. he could read you like a book so you knew that he was probably aware of what you were thinking. "come on, tell me, babe. promise i won't tease you about it" he smirked and you both knew he was lying.

"it's so pretty here, trent" you said as you took the sight in, moving closer to him as you held onto his arm to avoid bumping into the large groups around you. the gardens were beautiful, truly. but there were a lot of people and this put both of you slightly on edge. your relationship had always been private, you rarely posted one another and you rarely appeared in public cozied up.

"only the prettiest place for someone as pretty as you," he replied with a gentle hum and the two of you attempted to remain serious but quickly failed when glancing at each other, bursting out into laughter. "that was so bad!" you exclaimed and he only nodded as he continued laughing. "i give you a compliment and you react like that?!" he argued back.

"that was the cheesiest thing i've ever heard, trent. we both know it was awful, don't try that one ever again." you told him and leaned against him as he guided you through the gardens, now having reached a more quiet, private area. "you love it deep down, i know you do." he hummed and smirked to which you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"i love you but sometimes i can't believe how i fell for you" you pointed out and chuckled at the offended expression on his face. he let out a joking huff and stopped walking in front of the medici fountain. "i was planning to propose to you just now, but you've just broken my heart. can't believe you." he mused but his tone was a clear indication he was only joking.

when you heard the word 'propose,' your eyes widened as you stood in front of him. "what?" you laughed and shook your head, throwing it back in disbelief as you glanced at the sky and took a deep breath. "what? i'm not kidding, my love." he chuckled and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

while you had been convinced he was joking, his words threw you into a frenzy, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. he had to be joking, right? there was no way he was being serious. you shook your head and looked him straight in the eye, however the playful expression remained on your face "stop playing. there's no way you were going to propose."

at this, he beamed up once again and within a single second, the man was on one knee in front of you. you felt like you had been hit in the face and you were sure your jaw was hanging open. "what are you doing, trent? get up!" there was no way this was real.

the look on his face could only be described as pure love and adoration as he took your hands in his and flashed that gorgeous smile you loved so much. "i'm not joking, love. with or without a ring, i want to be yours forever but i want to celebrate our love. i want you to be my partner in everything, whether it's a game or whether it's in life. i don't think i've ever felt more loved and i certinly have never loved anyone as much as i love you. everything about you is...pure perfection, really. i want to love you at your best, your worst and your everything in between. it sounds awfully cheesy, i know it does but i can't word it any differently because this is how i feel." he told you and kissed the back of your hand as he was holding it.

"you've shown me what love is supposed to look and feel like and i'd be a fool to not ask you to marry me. so, would you make me the happiest person in this entire world and marry me, love?" he asked as he pulled out a tiny emerald green box and opened it, revealing what must've been the most beautiful ring you've ever seen. it wasn't huge or flashy with a massive diamond but it was perfect, beautiful. you were in complete disbelief but quickly, you dropped down to your knees and smiled at him as you nodded almost frantically.

his smile only grew as his arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in, burying his nose deep into the crook of your neck "i love you so much" he whispered as he held you close and you could swear you felt tears against your skin. but you weren't any better as you were in tears the moment he said he wanted to love you through every moment of your life. the two of you were never serious with one another but the look in his eyes alone told you that he wasn't kidding. you held each other's gaze for a few more seconds until trent cracked and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"we should probably get up, we're kneelin' in the middle of a park and i think people are staring." he pointed out with a chuckle. as he helped you up, he pulled you flush against himself, the muscular pair of arms tight around your midriff. he nuzzled against your temple and pressed the gentlest kiss against your skin. you observed the ring with a small smile on your lips as he led you out of the park and in your gut, you had a feeling there was more planned.

#football imagine #football one shot #trent alexander arnold x reader #taa x reader #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent imagine #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold blurb #request

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honeysuckleharringtons · 1 year

Text

"Ours" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Just a cute little fic about Reader and Steve moving into their first apartment together 🫶🏻

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Munson!Reader

Word Count: 1,076

Content Warning: food consumption, minor sexual humor, tiny mention of weed, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff of the tooth rotting variety

Extra Notes: hellcheer is canon because this is my blog and i make the rules 😤

Based On the Prompt: "Housewarming" from this year's @domaystic prompts

Originally Written: 04/08/2023 through 4/12/2023

honeysuckleharringtons masterlist can be found here!

"Well, that's the last box," Steve sighed, placing the cardboard box onto the hardwood of your new apartment. Your first apartment. Your first apartment with Steve.

You giggled as you ran over to him, flinging yourself into his arms. "You forgot something," you reminded him. Your hands flew to his cheeks, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

"Mmm," he chuckled against your lips. "Come here." With one swift movement, you were in his arms and on the other side of the door. He carried you over the threshold, stopping in the door and meeting your lips again. He tasted like sweat from carrying boxes all day in the sweltering May heat, but you just kept on kissing him.

"Now," he said, "it's officially ours."

The day passed rather quickly, most of it being spent assembling the new bed frame and unpacking the things you'd need right away. Just as you were unloading the last of the toiletries, you heard a knock at the front door.

You passed by Steve, who was hard at work building the kitchen table. When you reached the door, the tousled brown hair on the opposite side of the glass let you know exactly who was waiting for you.

"You just missed me that much, huh?" you laughed before pulling Eddie in for a hug. You'd moved out of the trailer nine hours ago and already, he missed you.

"Actually, it was Blondie's idea to come see you," he said, ruffling a hand through Chrissy's hair.

Her cerulean eyes nearly rolled into the back of their sockets. "Don't let him fool you. He's missed you just as much as I have," she said, cutting her eyes at him. "Anyway," she continued before lifting up the plate in her hands, "I made you brownies. Although, Eddie helped so maybe don't eat them if you're putting together furniture."

Eddie threw his hands up in surrender. "You make pot brownies one time and you never live it down."

You laughed before leading them into the apartment and taking the plate over to the newly built table. "Well, you guys want the tour?"

"Hell yeah, we do," Eddie chirped. He'd been just as excited about your new apartment as you and Steve were. Every day, he'd come home from work and ask if you'd found one yet, and when you finally decided on one, he'd ran around the room in excitement.

You and Steve led them through the apartment, pure happiness spread across both of your faces. It was a quaint little one-bedroom place you'd found in the next town over from Hawkins, just perfect for your first apartment together.

Chrissy fawned over how beautiful the place was while Eddie made jokes about how small it was going to feel when baby Harringtons came along. You slapped your brother on the shoulder, and Steve just laughed along with him because he knew it was true.

You looked around as the four of you walked back to the living room, and you couldn't help but let out a grateful sigh as you leaned into Steve's embrace. You had your friends and your boy and you wouldn't have it any other way.

And when the afternoon somehow faded from Eddie and Chrissy helping you with unpacking into the four of you splitting a couple of cheese pizzas on the floor, you found yourself sighing again.

"You guys should try it, ranch on pizza is delicious," Eddie claimed, shoveling a big bite of his pizza into his mouth.

Chrissy scoffed. "You get no say in this argument. You put hot sauce on ice cream one time!"

Eddie's eyes rolled harder than you'd ever seen before. "OK, it's called experimentation."

"You were high!" Chrissy laughed before eating a bite of her crust. "Why should I ever trust a man who experiments when he's not sober?"

His hand landed on her cheek as he pulled her in closer. "Do you trust him to kiss you when he is sober?" he chuckled, his lips landing on hers.

"Boo!" Steve yelled, throwing his crumpled napkin at Eddie's head. "Only we're allowed to make out in this living room!"

"Hey, this a safe space," you teased as your hands found their way to Steve's messy mop of curls. "Anyone can kiss anyone here."

Steve's lips landed on yours for a laughter-filled kiss, your hands tugging at his hair to pull him even closer. His hands settled on your cheeks, like he was trying to accomplish the same goal.

"Bleh," you heard Eddie say. "That's my cue to leave."

The back of Chrissy's hand slapped against Eddie's shoulder, and you couldn't help but laugh when she teased, "Are you five?"

"Yes," you answered for him. "Always has been, always will be. Keep that in mind when you marry him."

She glanced down at the beautiful ring that sat on her left hand before looking back up at the man beside her. "Well, child's personality or not, I still think you're pretty great."

"Yeah?" he smirked, giving her another peck. "Well, I think you're pretty great too, Chrissy Cunningham."

Steve looked down at his wristwatch, a frown forming on his face as he noticed the time. "Unfortunately, I think it's getting pretty late," he said, copying the tone Chrissy and Eddie had used.

A sideways smile worked its way to your lips as everyone stood from their spots. Part of you was happy to have Steve all to yourself again, while another part of you was sad that your best friends had to leave.

Everyone said their goodbyes, and soon it was just you and Steve. His hands settled on your hips while your arms sat on his shoulders, just enjoying his scent, his embrace, him. Your eyes met his beautiful, big, brown eyes, and you swore you saw his pupils turn into hearts. You both stayed silent, just holding each other, settling into the feeling of your new home.

Steve was the first to speak, simply meeting you with, "I love you."

You gave him a soft kiss before placing your head against his chest. You listened to his breathing, and you were sure that if you died right then, you'd die a happy woman. "I love you too."

"I can't believe I get to call this place ours. Not mine, not yours. Ours."

You let out a breath against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him flush against you. "Ours."

Welcome one and all to the first fourth day of doMAYstic2023!!

ok so maybe i'm a few days late... i will be catching up on the prompts i missed at a later date, just not today. this was supposed to be posted yesterday but tumblr ate the post and i'm just now getting a chance to post it 🥲

so, just like with whumptober, my schedule is gonna be a little different! so, every odd number prompt will be a Steve Harrington fic that will be posted here! and every even number prompt will be a Spencer Reid fic posted on @reidsaurora!

anyway, i will see you guys tomorrow (?) for another day of DoMAYstic2023!!

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorio @esoltis280

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caramelstarlight · 10 months

Note

Hi! Thank you for answering my prayer. Sooo…Tighnari x reader but reader takes some things literally (has a hard time detecting sarcasm, jokes go right over reader’s head) [totally not calling myself out (I am)] Also, how's your farming for TIghnari going?

pfft- (is this your way for asking more from me? Alright I’ll whip something up for you. Even if it isn’t <33) Also ✅/⭐️

Farmings great so far. 5k primos with everything he needs. Besides mora and exp books lol. Stole some of colleis artifacts to give to him. Including her stringless and amazing sands rip.

Here’s a recording of my current build for him. (On Faruzan. Half of it is colleis artifacts, unless I somehow get a better sands (Which I’m so proud of) it’s his IM SORRY COLLLEII 😭🤚 forgive me for my actions :d )

Don’t forget about the extra crit dmg from EM. I have 164.4 in total with it. (I basically have 600 EM. Which should grant 35% out of 60%) It’s only for charged shots and burst tho lol. But he does better with it XD

Hoyoverse where’s my Tighnari?????

Profile if ur looking for it. Lvl 10 friendship card with collei. Been playing since 1.6!

Anywayss, I’m on America server.

Here’s something I came up with. Just not a full on story lol.

A Lummox at heart

(Fluff, G/N Reader.) (Love confession.)

under cut <33

“Master Tighnari I don’t think Y/N understands sarcasm. They usually don’t react to jokes.” Collei admitted thinking of times when you heard jokes from cyno and didn’t understand.

“Y/N is truly the biggest lummox I have ever seen.” He’d reply focusing on his letter to send. Listening to collei talk about you. Speak of the devil, you came in with cyno.

He lowered his ears. Getting worried if he was going to hear another joke from cyno. “Were we collei-ing (coming) in at a wrong time?” Cyno stated as collei looked unamused. You stayed silent barely understanding his random jokes. Collei muttered out a few words as she kept listening.

“What-?” You’d state clearly oblivious to the joke he told. “We sure totally would love to listen to it again.” Tighnari mocked cyno as he rolled his eyes. Focusing on the paper.

“Oh then tell us cyno.” You’d state as Tighnari regretted his sarcastic remark. Lowering his ears as far as he could and finished the letter.

As cyno finished explaining everyone beside cyno and Y/N were dreadful. “Ohh!” You would state understanding it now but not bothering to laugh.

As cyno left a little later to go attend to his duties collei did the same. When you were about to take your leave he grabbed your arm gaining your attention as you turned around with an confused and soft expression.

“is something wrong Nari?” You’d ask being curious as he let go of your arm. “I really want to tell you something.” “Go ahead then Nari.”

“I love you I’m sure of it.” He’d say growing shy with the seconds as his tail swished rapidly. One of the rare moments to see the oh so calm and collected head chief so flustered.

“Anything else-?” You’d ask also shy kinda waiting for him to explain why. “What else do you need to know? Knowing me surely is enough. Or do you not know about some species of mating?” He’d ask blankly stating with a slight sarcastic tone.

“Nevermind then.” You’d say as you looked away. “Anyways… I accept it!” You’d state turning back to his view quickly. As soon as he heard those words he jumped at the chance to hug you. Literally.

He held you close as he took in your scent and wrapped his tail around you. Marking you as his effectively. His ears back to their normal state as you embraced the bug. He’d leave the crook of your neck alone as he faced you.

“You’re truly a Lummox at heart. You’re my favorite lummox.” He’d say as he peppered few kisses on your face. Earning a few giggles from you. Not bothering to deal with his work for the day.

He was always by your side when you were at Gandharva Ville, letting everyone know you were dating their head chief. (Yes you know how fennec foxes mate.) If anyone still tried to take their chance he’d dismiss it after his patience was gone. Growling with his tail on end and his ears perked in annoyance and anger.

He’s get you gifts every now and then something he thinks you’d enjoy either that he personally found in the forest or sumeru city.

(here it is woo <33 I hope you enjoyed it.)

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swearyshera · 8 months

Note

Advance apology for the long ask in a likely sea of 'em. A lot of people talk about wishing they could experience something they love again for the first time, this series was genuinely as close to that as I've ever felt. Just given the span of time my attention flucuated on and off but once the latter half of s4/s5 began my attention was absolutely nailed to your feed. Its up with Dragon Ball Z Abridged as parody series that become so dramatically effective they become a valid or definitive way to experience the series. Goddamned sensational.

Your portrayals of the characters soar. They provide a hilarious, cruder take on each that still cuts right to the soul of who these people are and lays it bare, which I think is the mission of any good-natured parody. Adora, Catra, Glimmer, Scorpia, Bow, Prime etc. There is not one that does not shine. It tackled a ton of issues and misgivings I had about canon, and even elevated or clarified many scenes and arcs through addressing them a more direct fashion. You took full advantage of not having to dress up and dance around the dark subjects canon was sort of doomed to handle inadequately given its age bracket and thematic priorities. Many scenes were jawdropping. Ive raved about it before, but your scene with Glimmer actually talking about her mom with Catra still leaves me gobsmacked every time I reread it. Your big moments towards the finale btwn Adora and Catra are obviously sublime and tie their wonderful arc off fantastically, but in my heart of hearts that cell talk will be the crown jewel of this project. Loved seeing the LGBT message take center stage in way canon had to hold back. To paraphrase Tolkien, I'm can't count myself among those gifted people, and youve def got a target audience in mind, but if youve ever worried if your stories resonate on a quote unquote "more universal" level, I promise you can put those worries to bed. Since becoming an adult ive intentionally sought out more and more queer-inclusive/created stories and I havent regretted it a bit, and the rising tide of fascist sexist/homo/transphobic bile in politics gets more and more frightening. But I've also seen how strong and resilient LGBT people are in the face of it, empowering themselves in no small part thru stories like yours. Please don't ever give up on your art. The world needs artists like you. Sorry if I come off pretentious or condescending, I feel like that when I try to get everything I think out at once. I'll be among the first to come running if you ever start another project like this or make something on an even grander scale. Thank you a thousand times for this. Also writing a wholeass sitcom pilot based on an offhand quasi-joke I made is the most weirdly touching thing I think anyones ever done "for me" (at least nominally cuz of me), especially a stranger. So thank you for that too.

Aw, you'll make me cry, you know! I think you've understood everything I wanted to do with this strip (or at least, when I started thinking beyond just 'characters saying fuck'), and... yeah, it's been an incredible journey, both for the blog and for me personally.

I've always tried to keep the parody good-natured. You can often tell, particularly in parody, when the creator dislikes one particular character (I mean, Horde Prime was probably the exception here), but I love all of them, so it really comes from a place of love. It's quite odd because I never set out to "fix" the show, and I wouldn't want to, but some things I've done seem to have had such an impact that a lot of people think I have done just that.

The Glimmer/Catra conversation is absolutely one of my favourite things I've written from this. It's such a pivotal moment in both their stories and character development, and I am truly humbled that multiple people have called it 'better than canon'. Like... I'm just some person trying to be funny and occasionally serious, and people are saying something I wrote is better than what a team of experienced professional writers did? Give over, no... But it's still a moment I can be proud of.

I won't be stopping writing things. This whole blog has given me a new lease of life and something to aim towards. I've got an excellent pilot script pretty much finished, and I do want to bring Hellspawn up to that standard too (thank you for suggesting someone make a Sweary Frosta sitcom - I'm someone!). That may well involve a complete re-write, but I'll be sure to share it.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your kind words along the way. It really keeps me going :)

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ask-obt · 6 months

Note

I was thinking about attempting a nuzlocke of Explorers with a similar rules set, any tips you want to share?

// I have some early game tips I outlined here, but here's some woo approved tips for later game! - you can turn any boss fight into a joke by using violent seeds on your team and a vile seed on the boss. the opposite is true if you want to up the difficulty for some reason - monster houses are easy to manage and escape as long as you keep a foe-hold orb and a pure seed with you in case of emergencies. you may not even need the pure seed since the orb will keep enemies petrified until they take damage, so you can pick through them at your own pace. do note that orbs don't work in boss battles, so you'd have to use multiple stun seeds for a similar strat. - always bring an escape orb, apple, and oran berry at a bare minimum with you into any dungeon! like chatot says in the main comic, it's better to forfeit a mission than lose a teammate. - if you're going no map like me, the stair sensor ability may be the difference between life and death during the future arc which has a lot of dungeons that generate long, repetitive hallways. starvation may be your #1 enemy. you can have it on a hero or a teammate to get the skill! starters that have the ability include bulbasaur, pikachu, vulpix, eevee, treecko, mudkip, skitty, piplup, and meowth. - I hope you like grinding! the game expects you to fail quite a bit in early game, and also expects you to gain exp by retrying dungeons. but we're too cool for that, so make the most out of marowak dojo once it opens up! the only items you can get there are escape orbs, poke, and oran berries. the enemies also scale up roughly 10 levels each floor, so be sure to use escape orbs to get out of hairy situations safely. we don't want any training accidents! - hold onto gummis until the cafe opens, since you'll get a guaranteed stat boost with each gummi drink! you can get seriously beefed with cafe drinks if you play your cards right, maybe even better than grinding out levels. - and most of all, have fun :)

#on borrowed time comic #ask-obt #ooc

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puprlebrotato · 4 months

Text

Ozpin is an ageless motherfluxxer: An rant essay

I have no idea how to start this but let's go-

So beyond most of the huntsmen/tress (why were'nt they just called hunters RT what the hell-) students, we have no Brothersdamn clue how old most characters in RWBY are.

Most peopole wouldn't care about that because they're sensible

If you couldn't tell, I am not most people

So one day, I decided to finally try mark out how old some characters are, using, of all people, "(Formerly Dr)unkle" Qrow Branwen

If we start at his first year at Beacon, he would (probaly) be 17, since that's the standard age most initiates are (ignoring the possblity of him being older or younger since he pulled a Blake and joined despite being a criminal so he probably didn't give a damn about the age reqiurement).

Flashforward to graduation, when he and STRQ finish their fourth year. Qrow should roughly 20 or 21 now.

From here on it's kinda iffy but, assuming Tai adn Raven have Yang right then, Qrow should, in Vol. 1, be 38.

For a refresher, out current math is 17 (First Year) + 4 (Academy Years) + 17 (Yang's life).

Now, what does this have to do wiht Ozpin looking nohting like his goddamn age?

Enter Peter. Fricking. Port.

According to the man himself, Port was a TA (teacher's assistant) during Qrow's first year. Now the math for this is even MORE iffy than the "Tai and Raven bang upon leaving beacon" math, but hear me out.

IF we work backwards, Port has his career of Huntsmaning beforeing being hired by Beacon, entering as a TA. Low balling at 4 years of experince, Port is likely 25 when Qrow is 17 (which also means Port is 8 years older than tai which makes the whole joking in his home thingy odd but also funny but whatever) [also the math of this is 4 years of exp + 4 years of beacon + 17 years leading to entering beacon]. Adding Qrow's four years and Yang's age, Port is 47 as of Vol. 1.

That's... okay. Personally he looks older to me, but this is just a 'low ball' estimate.

Now, with all of this figured out

What in the ever loving FUCK do I do with Ozpin.

This is VERY speculative, so take this with a micro-fucking-scopic amount of salt, BUT

Oz is (probably [notice I've been saying that a lot?]) headmaster when Port is a TA and Qrow's a first year. Now, one would assume Ozpin is WAY older than Port. HOWEVER, Ozpin is also said to be the youngest headmaster in Beacon's history, so who fucking knows how old his wizard of oz ass is. For clarity's sake, let's say he's Port's age. That's probably wrong, but let's just say so because why not.

If you're paying attetnion, that would mean in Vol. 1 Ozpin is 47. Fourty-fucking-seven.

Do me a favor and look up a picture of ozpin for me. Ignoring his hair, look at his face. Look at him.

there is no way in hell ozpin is forty fucking seven

I know people who are entering the prime of their life, hell I'm fsamily with people are well past the prime of life. THAT MAN IS NOT ENTERING HIS FIFTIES.

If that's fifty then Maria must be over a damn 100 I just- I dont- AGH-

[Please wait: having ragful technical dificulties]

Now, this could just be a design thing. I mean, come on. It's RWBY. It's an american anime, no one ever looks their freakin' age in anime.

Or, Ozpin and his aura and immortal magic BS have done what no skincare company in the world can do and has achieved Ryan Reynolds levels of not aging.

that is all, I needed to get this out of my head. If you're reading this as of posting, words of the immortal Samuel Jackson, "Go the Fuck to Sleep"

#I made this at 2 am instead of sleeping #I apologize if this is incomprehensible #rwby #ozpin #qrow branwen #I need a drink ironically and unironically #this timeline makes no goddamn sense #also this means if Cloqwork is true Qrow has a big age difference kink #have fun having that idea in your head fuck you have a wonderful day/night bye #I need a nap

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justafairytailofinnocence · 2 years

Note

Ok so here me out : Tom Riddle,Mattheo Riddle,Lorenzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott x F! slytherin!reader smut (here i don't know if you write smut, but if you don't just say i don't wanna make you write something you're uncomfortable with).The contest: They are jealous of the Weasley twins cuz they like joke flirt with y/n so they um kinda you know what i mean (maybe punish her?)Oh and i'm kinda chubby so if you could write about how reader is a little insecure or something it'll will be perfect if you're not comfortable writeing that don't write it💗💗💗

Hello dear💖, thanks for your request.

A/n: I have never written smut before so this is something different to me and I hope you like it.

Warning: NSFW 18+

Mattheo riddle x Lorenzo Berkshire x Theodore Nott x Tom Riddle x FSlytherin reader👧💋

A delicate rose 🐍💋

I was walking down the halls of Hogwarts, clutching my books to my chest, all my classes were until after break. I at least had some time to study, who knows I might just get another lecture from the oh so perfect granger. Let me just say I’m not a brainiac like Miss Granger and I’m not as strong as Ginny, I’m certainly not a beauty like Fleur Delacour. I’m just an average student who wishes to pass her grades and eventually get a job at the ministry. I’m someone who normally stays quiet, I would usually listen to the squabbles of Potter and Malfoy. I felt self-conscious, most of the time I was bullied by Pansy and her Slytherin gang.

The girl was a good for nothing piece of merlin dung, she deserves to have her robes burned. She was the reason I’m insecure for my looks and weight, so in a way I do have a problem with comparing myself to the perfect students of Hogwarts. I won’t let that stop me however I do have a humble passion not many students have and more, so I do develop attractions.

I was walking through the halls, many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws passed my way “Hm Gryffindor must be at quidditch practice”. I heard footsteps running up behind me, quickly I turned and held my wand up in protection “Oi their love, I’m not some troll ha” my eyes looked up to see one of the Weasley twins. “What do you want Weasley” I rolled my eyes sarcastically. “Should we tell er’ Fred” George smiled “Yeah George, go on mate” Fred replied with a smirk. The two Weasley twins approached with flowers in hand “You want to come with us to the tea house, eard’ it’s a place for couples” Fred smiled with a goofy expression. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting aside from me blushing like a red beet “I-I suppose but-“.

My words were cut off when I heard a male voice “she won’t be attending with you blood traitors” a voice sneered from behind me. “I wouldn’t expect this delicate rose to be involved with such hideous abominations to the wizarding world”. Fred and George stared at the boy with anger, the boy had black hair and very good-looking features. “Now off with you before I let the professor know of your little prank with the Slytherins in their dorms” the boy held a hand to my shoulder. “hey they didn’t do anything wrong-“ the boy interjected “correct they haven’t but you on the other hand, my oh my you poor thing thinking you could flaunt yourself in front of other boys”.

The boy reached his hand to my cheek, I blushed more then I did with the Weasley twins “You were rather naughty, I expected a girl with high morals”. He leaned further closer to my ear, his hot breath touched my skin, I flinched with confusion. “I suppose you should be claimed, you may call me mattheo” his smile only widened further “Mattheo you foolish boy, how dare you start seducing y/n without me” another boy appeared from around the corner. “Theodore, must you interrupt me” Mattheo scowled, he wasn’t impressed with anyone interrupting his prized possession. “Indeed, I must say you aren’t good enough for the girl, firstly you aren’t doing it right” Theodore strutted up and pushed me against the stone wall, he forced his lips against mine. I wasn’t expecting such as surprise except this was my first kiss. “Enough! Theodore, I won’t let you claim my prize” Mattheo grabbed his wand and held it to my throat, without a second thought the boy placed his soft lips against mine “I shall make you beg for mercy” he hissed. My face didn’t exactly cover up the amount of blushing I was showing “my my, such a pity, you were quite fascinating until you betrayed us” a boy came out from behind Mattheo “Lorenzo, what are you doing here” Mattheo scowled. Lorenzo wasn’t exactly BFF’s with Mattheo due to his hatred for his father “I wanted to spend time with my emerald snake”.

Lorenzo shoved his way to meet my lips, he was a lot more passionate then the three, he was quite grabby. I yelped as he grabbed my breast, I couldn’t help but slide my hands towards his chest “Now, now why should you have all the fun”. The three boys grabbed me and led me down to dungeons, “You should’ve strayed from those blood traitors” Mattheo hissed. A voice could be heard from the distance “and to whom did you bring in my presence” a boy with defined features and sharp handsome looks glared at the three Slytherins. “Our rose betrayed us, she went ahead and flaunted herself in front of those Weasley twins” Theodore sneered, “I wonder…”.

The head Slytherin boy came up closer until he reached my race, he trailed down to my neck. “Silly girl, betraying someone as powerful as me, indeed you will need to be punished” the head boy slid his tongue against my neck. “Mm” I muttered in embarrassment “hush you foolish half blood, you may be in the same house as me, but never will you par to my power”.

I realised from Harry’s description from when he saved Ginny, “your Tom Riddle, but I thought you were dead”. Tom laughed out loud “Nothing can kill me, for as long as I live, I shall be the one that will kill potter”.

Tom sneered at the sight of me, he grabbed my face and slid his tongue in my mouth. Mattheo growled, he came up and grabbed my breast with possession, he tried to push Tom off but to no avail. Theodore and Lorenzo stood silently debating on whether to join or watch.

I closed my eyes waiting for my fate as the four Slytherin boys surrounded my body.

To them I was their delicate rose.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta✨

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coffeeandmagicaltales · 2 months

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The Auror&The Devil part 13

Aesop Sharp x MC (fluff, hints of angst, slice of life) (10K words)

"Again," Aesop muttered, rising from behind the round table, seeing that Morana hadn't quite replicated the movement of the Expecto Patronum spell correctly. Instead of casting a powerful, radiant blow to the mannequin (covered in a black rag, to which Aesop had attached a note saying "DEMENTOR"), it released a sad spark from her wand, which immediately fizzled out. It was fortunate that it ended there, as an hour earlier rows of jars and Mr. Skelebone in the corner of his classroom had suffered.

He limped over to her and stood beside her, observing attentively. Morana brushed her hair from her face and took a deep breath, trying to focus.

"EXPE-!"

"Wrong," Aesop interrupted her, rolling his eyes.

"Arrrrghhh," Morana stomped her foot and glared at him. "I'm trying to focus, here."

"You're not focused," he shrugged. "What's going on?"

She hissed, but the gentle tone of his voice momentarily eased her anger.

"Well, I doubt I'll be able to conjure up any happy thoughts; I keep thinking about home," she confessed, and Sharp nodded understandingly, leaning against one of the workstations for potion making. "I don't know... There's something wrong with me, and the more I think about it, the angrier I get at myself. It doesn't make any sense. We were there just over a month ago, and it feels like ten years have passed. Or like it never happened at all..."

"What do you mean?"

Morana sat on the cold floor and, rotating her wand in her hands, slowly gathered her thoughts.

"I... I didn't feel anything at their grave. Like I was standing at the grave of strangers. Neither sadness, nor joy, nor grief... Just disappointment."

"You have the right to feel that way, Mora, because you didn't know them or that place... You didn't know them at all... Feelings don't magically flow to someone who is a complete stranger to you..."

"I was sure something would change... That suddenly I would have an epiphany and know who I am..." Silver tears flickered in her eyes. She wiped them away with a quick motion of her hand. "Once again, I have more questions than answers. Once again, I know nothing. I don't know who I am, I don't know what happened there, or who caused it! What good is a pile of stones to me..."

"Sometimes you have to put the investigation aside..." Aesop said quietly. "Patiently (hard word for you) wait for a breakthrough, and I'll tell you, we've learned a lot anyway. Just like I told you back then at Sirona's after our return: we know a lot, for example, that it wasn't an accident, that someone wanted to cover something up, most likely murder, that it was a very capable person, because such a powerful spell, which literally wiped the memory of your parents names from entire collective's minds... Merlin, I've never encountered something similar in my life... Hmmm, what I mean is that when such frustrating moments came in my work, we just dealt with current matters. Simple things related to the shady shops, where something was always happening..."

Morana got up and leaned against the countertop, standing next to Aesop.

"As for the Patronus, I don't know if I even have any happy memories..." she confessed. "Everything seems dull to me; I rarely feel real joy, let alone happiness."

"...You don't feel it because perhaps you're afraid you'll lose it quickly, right?" Aesop's eyes gleamed intelligently, immediately making Morana blush. "Well, I must send you to Professor Ronen for joy training; I'm rather bad at it myself," he joked and nudged her shoulder. "Come on, try one last time; I'll help you."

Morana positioned herself defensively, and Aesop approached her, gently taking her hand holding the wand and adjusted her stance with her permission. She could hear his deep breath by her ear, and his scent tickled her nose.

"Keep your wrist loose, Mora, remember."

"Mmmmhmm." She swallowed stiffly.

"Good." He stepped back a pace. "Clear your mind, focus, summon the memory."

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A beam of light emanated from Morana's wand and pushed back the "Dementor," blowing away its rag and the inscription.

"Oh! Very good!" Aesop praised her. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about how I saved Highwing with Natty and we escaped from poachers."

Aesop's eyebrows furrowed, and his face contorted into the familiar grimace known to Morana.

"It's still a bit weak, but it's better than 'meeting a dragon with Poppy'... I dread to think what your happiest memory might be and what monster you'll see in it..." he joked and limped back to his desk. He dipped his quill in the ink and continued checking tests. "Memories associated with relationships with loved ones are usually the strongest..." he said, not taking his eyes off his work. "Maybe I'm nosy, but if it helps you, maybe you have some memories with your umm friend... Mr. Gaunt, for example?"

"No... we're not together anymore, if that's what you mean..." Morana confessed, blushing. "We're still friends, but nothing more."

"Hmmm," Aesop uttered, and even he didn't know why it sounded rather cheerful than saddened by the lovers' separation. He quickly changed the subject to avoid awkwardness. "Perhaps my mother will have a small task for you; of course, she'll pay you and probably stuff you with cake and tea."

"What does she need?" Morana asked, pleased with something to occupy her mind and push away thoughts still drifting towards Nitria and Jelenec. She pushed aside Aesop's trinkets and sat at the other end of the round table, sneakily peeking if her paper didn't stick out somewhere in the stack of exams, which she might still have a chance to correct...

"Yours I've checked a long time ago," he grumbled, not looking up from his work. "You did a bit better than last time; you're lucky, but by Merlin's Beard, if someone saw the niffler you drew and captioned it with 'Don't upset the Niffler, give Morana a P.'... ughh..." He looked at her sternly from under dark lashes, shaking his head. Morana made an innocent gesture with her hands, as if she wanted to defend herself without words: "But it worked."

Aesop sighed dramatically, pretending he had no strength left for her. He planned to keep this exam for himself and frame the awkward drawing, which he found incredibly endearing, and keep it somewhere in his workshop.

"... what was I supposed to tell you? Oh! She needs a few ingredients for her tapestry threads. She sews real works of art, repairs those hanging in Hogwarts... It's not simple; they're made with very old, almost woven magic, known to very few wizards, and simple Reparo won't help..."

"Do you also know that magic?" Morana asked, curious.

"When I have time, I help her a bit, but I'm more useful in handing her threads and chasing after the fur of magical animals... Oh, speaking of animals, what about your little idea of becoming an Animagus? Are you still interested in that?"

Before Aesop could elaborate, Morana opened her mouth, showing him the soggy mandrake leaf she held against her cheek. He grimaced and shook himself off in disgust, closing his eyes.

"Firstly: ew. Secondly: I respect your decision; I wouldn't dare."

Morana laughed.

"Interesting what animal you would turn into, a real mystery..." she chuckled sarcastically.

"That's exactly what I fear." Aesop chuckled. "I'd probably enjoy the life of a chubby thief more and would stay that way forever. Nifflers don't have to work or teach anyone Patronus spells, or make sure Mr. Weasley doesn't turn my class into a flock of sheep again, like he did last month... Merlin, I still have nightmares, and when I see sheep before falling asleep, I jump up on my feet. Still, when I go for a walk, I'm afraid one of them might be, for example, poor Mrs. Sweeting... Well, at least she remained herself in the sheep's body and was able to throw herself at poachers... Otherwise, we would have a problem with recognizing her..."

Morana laughed, remembering the headline in the newspaper: "Crazy sheep attacks poachers, do Aurors have competition?". Almost at the same moment, she and Aesop screamed: "POPPY!" and hurried to find her, catching poachers along the way, so they could turn their unconscious bodies (before handing them over to the Aurors) into bait for her... Mora snorted with laughter. Yes, it was a strange, surreal adventure. Before she herself was cured by the potion, it was strange to see the world through the eyes of a sheep, to eat grass that tasted delicious at the time, and after which she had heartburn for a week in her human form.

Aesop tried hard to find a remedy for them all (the unexpectedly strong potion didn't respond to just any antidote, and Sharp had to demonstrate his knowledge of poisons), he took care of the flock, even though he had no clue about shepherding. The worst were the letters to parents that he had to send when everyone was back in their original forms, including the last Poppy, who got a bit lost and an ordinary sheep attended classes instead of her for a while... Morana frowned. From one of her classmates' father, probably Leander's, Aesop received a howler that humiliated him in the corridor in front of students. She didn't understand why the parent had to vent their frustration on him in such, in her opinion, rude manner, considering the potions master was not to blame for anything. He accepted the howler with dignity, not even blinking an eye. However, Morana knew deep down that he took it very hard and felt terribly sorry. Touched by a premonition, as soon as she finished her lessons, she went to find him; he hid in his office, completely shattered, sitting in silence, absent-mindedly staring at a glass of whiskey, in which the ice had already melted... He just tried to fix Gareth's mistake, he wasn't guilty of anything... She talked to him and calmed him down and, knowing that it would improve his mood, took him to the Room of Requirement to show him the newly born Nifflers. All of them, both young and adult, climbed him and Aesop fell asleep covered by a dozen of furry creatures... Everything ended well, but even the memory of the father unjustly shouting insults at the upright, proud man who heroically got everyone out of trouble made her blood boil.

"That's it for today," Aesop summed up and got up from his seat with a quick flick of his wand, making the exams disappear. "I have a few things to attend to, see you tomorrow, Mora." The woman was slightly surprised and looked at her pocket watch. He never finished at this time. She looked at him questioningly, but no answer came. She sensed some mystery, which somehow worried her a bit. He dusted off the dust particles from himself, put on one of his coats that he wore on "occasions," and waited for her at the exit to let her out and lock the classroom. As she passed him in the doorway, she saw him looking at her askance, and although there were no emotions on his face, there was a mysterious spark in his hazel eyes, as if he were waiting for something and was in a bit of a hurry. For a meeting... with someone.

A strange feeling twisted her stomach. Anger caused by the lack of information about who it was, what he would do, swirled in her head. Why did he dress differently than for a whiskey outing with Ronen? Why do his perfumes smell stronger today, and his velvety hair is perfectly arranged, reflecting even the smallest rays of candlelight?

"What's with the face?" he grumbled as they walked alongside each other. "Don't worry, I'm not mad about that drawing..."

"I'm tired," she cut in, staring at the floor. "I'm going to help Poppy, her cabbages escaped today, I promised we'd look for them... See you tomorrow!"

Aesop didn't have time to respond, and Morana turned on her heel, tossing a wave of black curls and she was gone. He didn't know what had bitten her, but apparently something had annoyed her. He shrugged. Morana, queen of Nitra, of the Puffed-up-Goose crest, he made up on the spot, amusing himself, and pulled out a mysterious letter from his pocket, which he had been hiding from her with difficulty. He read it carefully to make sure he remembered the meeting time and wouldn't be late. He wanted to make a good impression - after all, he was meeting a teacher. A teacher didn't want to appear bad in front of another teacher and seem unprofessional. Excited by the opportunity he had accidentally received, he straightened his tie and disappeared with a whoosh of floo flames.

He sat in a cramped bench, much too big for him, constantly adjusting and fidgeting, unable to get comfortable. He glanced with a playful smirk at the letter lying on the desk in front of him.

Seriously?

It started without any polite greeting.

Aesop, what are you up to now? Merlin, of all the languages in the world, why Slovak?... Anyway, I know you won't tell me, it's silly to ask. It's hard to find someone around here who speaks it. I only know one Muggle... She's the governess of my bank colleague's daughter - the girl was born a Squib. The teacher said she could meet you at the parish nursery school (you have a map in the envelope, don't lose it, you idiot) during the break, at 6 in the evening, where she teaches children from poor families for free every Friday... She noted that 'she doesn't teach old people and you'll have to show exceptionally that she's not wasting her time.' She added that if she sees you slacking off, even though she's not doing it for free, she'll quit. What a woman... Anyway, supposedly she teaches quite effectively. Sounds like you'll get along.

I don't feel like looking for someone else, so PLEASE try, since you're already bothering me with this. I love you like a brother, but sometimes I just can't stand you... Damn it, Aesop, now as I think about it I'm sure It's because of a woman, isn't it? ISN'T?... Buy her flowers or do something normal people do. I dunno, take her for a dinner. As I told you before: doing weird things like bringing troll's head is not romantic at all. Hope you at least read her poetry in that twisted language, but knowing you, it's going to be weird anyway and you'll scare her away.

Have fun & respectfully fuck you

Torq

The door slammed, and a small room was entered by a tiny, stooped woman with glasses as thick as jar bottoms. She didn't honor Aesop (who greeted her with a wide smile) with a glance.

"Slovak, belongs to the Slavic group of languages, grammatically complex and difficult to master, so you will have to show intellect and discipline..." she trotted to the board and wrote: I am, you are, he she it is, etc. "Do you know any Slavic languages, Mr. Sharp?"

"Russian..."

"Ugh, if you had said: Serbian, Polish, or Czech, it would have been much easier," she interrupted him, not hiding her disappointment. Aesop felt himself getting increasingly tense, and his hands started to sweat. "And now the rules: you come to my classes punctually, and if you're not prepared, you don't come at all, and we end our cooperation. Understood?..." Sharp felt himself sinking deeper into the collar of his coat, as if trying to hide. He mumbled only, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Each month, I'll test your knowledge in writing, and I'll quiz you on the spot each lesson..." He swallowed saliva obediently, jotting down everything that appeared on the board, when it dawned on him what he had gotten himself into. He had the feeling that Torq deliberately chose her as his teacher so he wouldn't get too bored. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should really dedicate himself to learning this language and instead of resting, cramming oddly sounding words written with letters he saw for the first time in his life. Why was he actually doing this?

He came up with this idea shortly after returning from Nitra, when he was sitting with Morana at Sirona's table near the fireplace. She looked absent-mindedly at the dancing flames, tears sparkling in her crystal eyes. Sad, disappointed. And very... hmm... lonely. It was then that he realized that despite not hearing any accent in her voice, Great Britain was a foreign place for her. What's more, there wasn't much of a Slovak minority here with whom she could spend some time... if only she could be understood in her own language, express what she feels in her own words... heh... It sounded beautiful in her mouth. Like the language of elves from fairy tales.

Why was he really doing this? Logically, it made no sense at all. He would waste many hours of his time for a young woman who would soon leave Hogwarts and go her own way, and in a few years, she wouldn't even remember that she was taught by some Aesop Sharp... But, in the end, what else did he have to do, especially with his boring life? Maybe at least it would make his Puffed-up-Goose feel a little less lonely for a while... At least that's what he silently hoped for, because he couldn't do anything more for her. He had nothing to give her, no knowledge that could restore her memory... He was a cripple, a loner with an unpleasant character, whose jokes were exceptionally weak. Moreover, he was old, and his body was disfigured.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the words, which he struggled to pronounce, unable to get rid of the Russian accent that Mrs. Hedviga Ostrá commented on with a disgusted "tsk."

Aesop sank into the chair in his art studio.

His brain, overloaded with knowledge, absorbed about 30% of the information, and therefore, as he walked down the corridor with an armful of notes, he almost stumbled over Matilda, who happened to be on curfew. He wasn't tired, but he had to occupy his mind with something else for a while and relax a bit.

For some time now, he had been occupied with a certain project waiting for him on the table. He smiled gently. He reached for the chisel and with a light movement of his hand, he extracted from under the shavings a tiny wooden leg with joints at the knee and ankle. It wasn't just an ordinary wooden leg. He poured onto it a significant piece of his knowledge, some of it he had to read and some come up with himself, and create spells from scratch. A bit like his mother showed him during the creation of tapestries, when every move involved anchoring the spell in the material. Weaving it. So now he sat in place, cleared his mind, recalling only those thoughts he wanted to transfer into a piece of basswood, humming protective spells, rhythmically combining them with tool movements. The process took quite a long time and required patience. He sang softly, shyly, but every word poured his knowledge into the magical object, creating a true masterpiece and artifact at the same time, because the prosthesis slowly became something almost "alive." It didn't feel pain, but it could grow with its future owner, fit perfectly, regardless of weight changes, there was no question that it would even fall off during jumping on a trampoline. Well, it wasn't perfect; it was still a piece of wood, and there was a fear that Sidó would limp.

Madame Niffleur soon, according to his subtle plan, was to temporarily join the ranks of the nuns.

Together with Poppy and Sirona, Mora sat by the lake, enjoying probably the last warm rays of autumn sun. Sirona dipped her legs in the lake, pleased with her long-awaited day off, Poppy was feeding the newly hatched Snigets sitting in her pocket, and Mora was reading the next chapters of Aesop's book, reading stories of the next patients of St. Mungo's.

"Is it definite?" Sirona asked, and both girls turned their heads towards her. "Durmstrang? Won't you get bored there?"

Morana sighed deeply and nodded.

"Damn, so I'm in the decided minority of people who want to keep you."

Morana laughed and looked at her questioningly.

"I talked to Aeso... um... Professor Sharp," Sirona glanced at Morana sideways, mysteriously examining her with her eyes, smiling slightly, as if she knew some secret. "...and even he, the perfidious traitor, thinks that Durmstrang will do you good."

"Hey, I plan to visit quite often." Poppy nudged Morana's shoulder, suddenly her brown eyes sparkled. "Imagine, Scandinavian DRAGONS, oh, how wonderful it will be!"

She jumped up from her place, surrounded by a bunch of Snigets flying over her head, and did a few pirouettes dancing with the wind. Morana smiled broadly, seeing her joy. Sirona splashed water on her, and a fierce battle of water spraying ensued between them, full of squeals and laughter.

Wings flapped in the air. Above Morana, for a moment, an unknown owl circled, which, dropping a letter on her lap, immediately flew off in its direction.

For a moment, Morana didn't know who the parchment was from - the writing looked like Aesop's, but the sentence "Dear Miss Dimm!" completely threw her off. Only when she delved into the content, describing the furs of magical animals, did she remember the task from his mother.

"Why don't they give you a moment's peace?" Poppy joked. "Who's this time? Mr. Moon found another Demguise statue?"

Morana laughed and shook her head.

"Mrs. Sharp asks for help in finding ingredients for tapestries."

"Oooo...." Poppy became interested, and her eyes lit up. "Professor Sharp once let me know that she found injured Puffskeins. I was sure she was just as awful as him and I was afraid to meet her... But she turned out to be really wonderful, so warm and hospitable, we drank tea together. Besides, she's terribly tall! When she hugged me goodbye... she lifted me off the ground!"

"It's not really difficult, little one." Morana suddenly caught Poppy around the waist and lifted her up, then both, laughing, fell on the grass.

"hmm Professor Sharp isn't awful at all." Sirona defended him. "I met him probably at the worst moment of his life, and I understand what he went through. Maybe he seems grumpy, but when he feels comfortable with someone - he opens up and gains a lot... He's a true gentleman, of which unfortunately there are fewer and fewer."

Morana smiled slightly, her cheeks blushed. Yes. Aesop Sharp definitely gained from getting to know him better. She felt Sirona's gaze on her, still smiling slyly, Morana was sure she knew something she didn't.

"I think I prefer Mrs. Sharp..." Poppy muttered shyly. "She made a delicious cake. I wonder how it would be if she taught us potions?"

"You'd probably gain a few kilograms." Sirona burst out laughing. "Still haven't found anyone to replace Professor Fig?"

"No one wants his place, because everyone's afraid to work at Hogwarts now, because of the goblins..." Poppy grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Cowards."

"The only Magical Theory teacher worse than Professor Black could be a cauliflower." Morana mumbled without looking up from the book she had returned to reading, and Sirona and Poppy burst out laughing.

"Oh, I'd argue." Poppy admitted, barely catching her breath from laughing. "Professor Cauliflower would be definitely funnier."

Morana had been to Cragcroftshire only once before, during the search for Demiguise statues, but just like then, she now thought it would be a good place to live, or at least spend her holidays there.

The tree growing in the middle of the village seemed to be something more than just a decoration... it emanated magic, possibly as old as Morana knew, or even older... It watched over this place as an ancient god.

Right behind the stall of the seller, whom Mora greeted with a smile, was Mrs. Sharp's house. Dimm stepped quickly onto the threshold, shook the dust from her favorite outfit and knocked patiently waiting for the invitation, finally, the door opened a crack.

"Aesop?" she asked, not expecting to see him. He smiled broadly, his eyes sparkling, but before he could say anything, a female voice invited Morana inside. Aesop let her in, indicating the way, she lightly brushed against his clothes with her arm, the corridor was definitely too narrow for two people to stand side by side. Suddenly, he moved a bit closer and, smiling indulgently, took a leaf from her head, which must have fallen on her hair from the magical tree. She held her breath, embarrassed, Aesop chuckled. She looked so lovely and cute, like an elf from children's books, dressed in a fancy little hat, and he would prefer not to tell her that she had a leaf on her head, to enjoy the sight longer, but... they weren't alone.

"I won't bother you." he said almost silently.

Morana went ahead, and he for a split second analyzed the beautiful shape of the leaf and carefully tucked it into the pocket of his jacket.

The beautiful red-haired woman sat in a comfortable armchair near the fireplace, spinning threads on a spinning wheel, which squeaked slightly. Opposite her, on a small sofa, an old man was dozing off, a straw hat covered his face, probably so that no ray of sun entering the room through the small windows would wake him up. Passing by him, Aesop first quickly turned some framed photo, as if he were ashamed of it in front of Morana, and then adjusted the blanket covering the old man, and affectionately touched his arm, then limped to the kitchen and started looking for a jar with the right blend of tea, poking his big nose into every jar. Morana smiled, it was adorable.

"Morana Dimm, nice to meet you." Mora introduced herself with a wide smile.

"Juno Sharp, nice to meet you too, love," the woman said softly, so as not to wake her partner (she had a very strong Scottish accent) and shook Morana's hand. It was a firm grip and cold, delicate touch, just like Aesop's. Morana smiled slightly surprised by this discovery, sat opposite her in the armchair, and began to look at her closely, looking for more similarities to Sharp. There were few of them, very subtle. Slightly crooked front teeth, bright, kindly look of dark eyes, well-defined jaw, moles on the hands, the way she slightly tilted her head when she looked at her...

She flicked her wand and in Morana's hands, a plate of cake suddenly materialized.

"Well, I don't even know where to start..." Mrs. Juno hesitated, visibly as excited as she was shy. She nervously rubbed her hands, just like Aesop often did. "I recently miscalculated the amount of ingredients in the pantry, and I received a big order from Professor Black, and I'm afraid I won't be able to complete it on time... I feel a bit embarrassed to ask for your help..."

"It's me who should feel embarrassed, Mummy, that you have to ask someone other than me for help..." Aesop said softly, with a sad voice, as he carefully hobbled over, trying not to spill anything, and handed them cups of freshly brewed tea with a pleasant orange scent.

"Oh!" Mrs. Sharp hissed at him and gave him a sharp look, tenderly touching his hand. "Silly boy! I hold no grudge against you and never have! Ugh..."

"Well..." Morana began uncertainly. "Aeso... um... Professor Sharp, just has a lot of responsibilities... I have significantly more free time and I'm happy to help."

Mrs. Sharp smiled warmly, as if pleased that Morana wanted to defend her son, and looked at him as if to say, "You see, she's right, it's a good idea." He nodded wordlessly in agreement and sat down in the chair next to them, focusing his attention entirely on his slice of cake.

"I have a list of ingredients prepared, of course, I'll pay you for everything... I just need a small amount, you can keep the rest, or sell it to Mr. Pippin. Aesop told me that you work with him, hmm, maybe I'm being nosy, but... I expected someone... much younger than you..."

"Um, no, it's a longer story." Morana laughed lightly and quickly swallowed the chocolate cake before continuing. "I come from Slovakia, I grew up in an orphanage, I don't know my last name or age."

"Oh..." Mrs. Sharp looked concerned, but something caught her attention, her eyes sparkled. "They left you there as a child?"

"Well, not exactly. One day I found myself in the woods, I was found by the forester..." She considered whether to tell her that her son had helped a lot in finding her past, but bit her tongue, unsure if she could talk about it. "Recently, I found out that my family is dead, our house was burned down, and their identity was literally erased, I was hit by a powerful memory charm..." she pointed to her cheek. "Dark magic."

"Oh, and exceptionally powerful, without a doubt..." the old woman mused, still deeply intrigued, she asked another question. "Sad story, extraordinary... You say you don't remember anything?"

"Not entirely." Morana smiled lightly, feeling warmth in her heart. "I still have my name."

"Doesn't that surprise you?"

The question caught Morana off guard and even drew Aesop's attention, who stopped eyeing the cake on the kitchen counter.

"Hmm?" he murmured.

Aesop's mother smiled mysteriously and straightened proudly.

"For me, everything is clear. But let me start from the beginning: hundreds of years ago, magic looked somewhat different than it does now. It was mainly practiced by men, in the sense of treating it like science, while women knew a slightly different kind of magic focusing on their role in society. Raising children, taking care of the home... All the protective spells are the work of our grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and hundreds of their mothers before them. Salvio Hexia is one of them. But that's not all. What I'm involved in also has very deep roots: the enchanting of threads, whose weave creates images living "their own lives"... Unfortunately, it is time-consuming, requires concentration, proper movements of the thread, and this art is slowly dying out. There are other spells. Strong magic related to blood magic..." Morana and Aesop exchanged glances, listening with increasing interest to Mrs. Juno. "Hundreds of years ago, child mortality was high, dangers lurked for them in both the magical and non-magical worlds, so many mothers secretly protected them with ancient protection. Love so great that it became an unbreakable shield. It took on various forms, and often hid in the power carried by the child's name. Children were given two names: one that everyone around them knew, and another that only the mother and her offspring knew..."

In Morana's mind, restless thoughts began to swirl, questions piled up.

"What I want to say is that perhaps such a spell protected you from danger, that's why you survived... Could it be that when the curse hit you, it could have transported you to a completely different place? I don't know, but I don't deny it. Every mother who knows these charms uses them slightly differently... I also protected my child with them..." She smiled tenderly and with a gentle movement of her hand, closed Aesop's gaping mouth.

"Mummy... how... where... how do you know all of... this?"

"Oh, you thought you were so clever, after my ex-husband!? Ha, good one! Besides, you never asked about these things."

Morana's heart beat faster. She organized everything in her head.

"Do you think... do you think my mum protected me? That she knew such magic?"

"No differently, in my opinion everything points to that. History knows many similar cases, now more as legends, although the 'magic of names' centuries ago was a popular practice among the Celts, Slavs, Germans... Even Rome supposedly had its magical name known only to the residents, for fear that someone might attack the city... Returning to the subject: it's possible that the spell that hit you worked, but only on your, hmm let's call it 'external identity'. Your true name remained with you. Morana."

Mora breathed deeply, sinking into the armchair. It didn't dispel all her questions, it was even a small piece of the puzzle, but it meant a lot to her. Even the simple fact that she could finally be sure that her mum loved her.

Silence fell. Mrs. Sharp smiled innocently, Aesop processed her words with disbelief, glancing at her and then at Morana who holded back tears. Suddenly she stood up and threw herself into Mrs. Sharp's arms. The woman, surprised by the sudden closeness, stiffened, just as Aesop did, but Morana didn't mind at all. Aesop looked at his mother with admiration, "Thank you," she whispered. Juno awkwardly patted her arm and twitched trying to free herself from the hug, which eased to her relief, and Morana, regaining composure, returned to her armchair.

"I don't know why you're surprised, Aesop, I always said your mom is a genius," John interjected, waking up from his nap, probably not even knowing what the conversation was about. He stretched and getting up, planted a passionate kiss on his dazzled partner's lips, which made Aesop feel queasy.

"You're not alone..." he mumbled, turning away, seeking refuge in Morana, who felt equally amused and embarrassed. "Alright, alright, enough kissing!" He separated them almost using force. "Just keep you out of sight for just a moment, oi!... Shame on you two!... tsk, tsk, tsk." He eyed the infatuated lovers and changed the subject. "Mummy, maybe you'll show Morana your tapestries before she flees in horror from your depraved behavior, eh?"

While the gentlemen continued to indulge in cake, Morana followed Mrs. Sharp upstairs, where unfinished works hung on strings... Rather, like Aesop, she was a follower of the "artistic disorder" prevailing in the apartment. Threads, scraps, sewing equipment, spinning wheels... Everything scattered around the room was waiting for ingredients to start work. Downstairs, from what Mora noticed, was John's kingdom and his musical instruments. As they descended the stairs, she heard him tuning his violin, telling Aesop about his students, and then about the concert in Hogsmeade.

"Aesop, lad... please agree... You have such beautiful drawings... Just think how nicely an exhibition would complement the concert..."

"No way, John," Aesop cut in, fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "It's not a good idea. I... don't feel up to it..."

"Hmm... Think about it again, lad. We would be honored..."

Aesop smiled warmly at the man. "Thank you, but..."

He fell silent, noticing Morana standing on the stairs, and behind her, Mrs. Sharp ducking under the ceiling too low for her. The women joined the conversation, then John played on the magically floating violins, showing Morana how the instruments worked in the magical world. Aesop's mother, meanwhile, used Mora's tiny hands to wind threads, demonstrating how the spell sung by her seemed to take on a material form, similar to the fleeting strands of Ancient Magic, changing the color of the fibers.

This was interesting. John wasn't Aesop's father, yet they got along very well. Morana observed them both furtively, thinking about herself and the Dimms. If not for John's darker complexion and facial features nothing like Sharp's, she would have thought they were family.

Time spent with the Sharps flew by for Morana. She thanked them for their hospitality; the evening practically caught her off guard, and Aesop insisted on escorting her to the dormitory to avoid any trouble with the prefects.

"I love you, I'll come on Wednesday, after classes," Aesop whispered to Juno, kissing her cheek affectionately goodbye. Morana hugged her. Aesop tugged at young woman's sleeve, indicating it was time to go.

For a moment, they walked arm in arm in silence, drowned out by the music and chatter in the house. The sound of distant, ocean waves and the rustle of the wind were incredibly soothing.

"Is John organizing an exhibition?" she asked timidly.

"No, he's not organizing any exhibition," Aesop grumbled.

Morana laughed. She knew deep down that Aesop was torn.

"Well... The author of the works doesn't necessarily have to reveal themselves... They could have a pseudonym, or be completely anonymous..."

"Ugh... Why do you always have good ideas, hm?" he asked rhetorically, squeezing her arm holding his shoulder a little tighter.

Morana chuckled and returned to the matter that had been bothering her since she met the Sharp family. She didn't know that Aesop's relationship with John would leave such a strong impression on her.

"If I didn't know that John isn't your father, I would never have guessed it in my life," she confessed, bringing a smile to Aesop's face. "How long have you known each other?"

"Well... I don't really remember. Long. He's always been close to mummy, as her best friend. Mummy loved my father, but..." He sighed deeply, summoning painful memories. "The more money he gained, the more he distanced himself from us. Work was the only thing that mattered to him, then politics and 'pure blood' nonsense... Any sign of 'disobedience' from my or her side ended with a severe beating. John helped her escape... She wanted to scare my father with divorce and take away most of his custody rights over me... She thought it would open his eyes, make him want to fight for us... He happily signed all the papers, not bothered by the fact that he would see me once a month, which in practice turned out to be even rarer. For over half a year, I only saw him from the headlines of newspapers covering his successes. After the divorce, he quickly found himself a new family, his longtime lover, as it turned out, which broke my mummy's heart completely. John was always there for her, took care of her, and only when I was ten, it turned out that he loved her since they met in the Hogwarts Express, going to his first year. He simply loved always. Hmm..." Morana walked looking at him with tenderness, stroking the sleeve of his arm she held. "At first it was strange, to see a man at home with mummy (even though I knew him), who isn't my dad - I was very frustrated... but over time, when my father gained fame and money... John read me bedtime stories, taught me how to fly on a broom, showed me how to brew Wiggenweld Potion because I came back from almost every walk battered by some wild creature, with at least a scraped knee..." Morana chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder, listening to his story. "Father spent much more time with me when he retired, and I was slowly finishing Hogwarts. I didn't understand then why John was sad when I chose Oxford over the Highlands more often. I was torn, rebellious, full of longing for my real father, who suddenly, because he had no other children, showed interest, realizing he needed an heir. And I was a fertile ground, a small-town boy who suddenly began to experience city life; it just took a decent allowance, a little attention, and... I forgot about all the beatings I received as a child, or my mom's tears... It doesn't mean I completely agreed with his approach to life; I thought I was different, better. I saw that my successes bought his attention... out of ambition, I did a lot of awful things I'm ashamed of, hurt many friends, and I'm not talking about Scarborough... It was the icing on the cake. At least it opened my eyes because after waking up, next to my bed I saw John. He took care of me at st. Mungo with mom, taking turns, while my father disappeared again for a while, ashamed of my disability and my failure..." Aesop stood staring at the view of the silvery sea and the clouds on the horizon from the hill. So beautiful and calm. "The first thing I said then was 'I'm sorry, John,' and he just hugged me. I understood then that although I love and will always love Aristotle Sharp, my father is someone else."

Morana felt a squeeze in her heart, which stirred her deepest desire to have a family, and for a fraction of a second her thoughts wandered towards the Dimms, but after a moment she rejected them, angry with herself for allowing them. Her family was gone, no one could take their place; she felt it would be a betrayal of the love her mother gave her...

She noticed a tear that trickled down Aesop's scarred cheek, she approached him a little closer and tenderly wiped it, lightly touching his scar. The man flinched and held his breath, feeling her delicate fingers on his cheek, which first shyly brushed the skin, and then the whole hand lay on his bony cheek, burning him like a piece of hot coal. He closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, wanting to discreetly snuggle into her hand; it was so pleasant that he couldn't resist. In her tearful, gazing eyes, stars flickered and the sharp crescent of the moon, black strands of hair brushed her face moved by the cool breeze, and shapely lips parted slightly. He had never seen a more beautiful sight. Never.

He leaned in ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, to hear the soothing sound of her breath, to feel her scent mingling in his senses. He had never felt as good and safe with anyone else. Only she knew the thoughts he had just expressed moments ago, only she had the right to...

Morana smiled gently, discovering that his beard wasn't as unpleasant to the touch as she expected; it pricked a bit, but just a little, and it was quite pleasant. She struggled to resist the urge to follow her hand towards his chin, to see how it felt to touch it entirely. She glanced at Adam's apple on his graceful neck, and following its trail, she noticed through a button undone at the collar of his loosely tied tie, fair clear collarbones covered with tiny, dark hairs. They seemed very soft... She held her breath, feeling warm despite the cool wind.

"Get a grip, Aesop!" a voice resonated in his head, drowning out the thoughts that wanted to get a tiny step closer to her. "She's a young, beautiful woman, you'll scare her off. She probably just wanted to be nice. You're allowing yourself way too much!"

The spark of joy that had lit up his dark eyes just moments ago suddenly extinguished, alarming Morana. She had allowed himself too much. She shouldn't have touched him. She withdrew her hand, blushing with embarrassment. She pretended to brush away a stray lock of hair, thinking that it would somehow pathetically cover up the whole situation, but once her hand got closer to her face, she felt the oils he must have used to care for his beard; their scent made her head spin... Sandalwood, resin, orange blossom, cardamom, cloves... She quickly brushed away all thoughts, as if warding off demons, and changed the subject.

"While you were busy looking for glasses with John, your mum showed me that infamous photo of you after your first investigation, which someone turned upside down... I wonder who that was?"

"Ugh..." Aesop theatrically rolled his eyes, trying to restore his facade at all costs. He joked and, taking Morana by the arm, they started walking towards the Floo flame. He was glad she wasn't angry with him in any way, that she hadn't noticed he had allowed himself a little too much. He breathed out, trying to cool down. "I'll talk to her about it on Wednesday... I'll be firm, won't be swayed by cake, I promise."

Which facade? He was starting to get completely lost in it. Gruffnes once only covered his gentleness and sense of humor, which had now resurfaced... But at the same time, they covered something deeper underneath, something he hadn't been aware of before. What exactly did he feel just now, being so close to Morana? Did he even want to know?

End of part 13, thanks for reading

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