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syn-odics · 2 years

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alex. can you. tell me about your dnd ocs. 5 paragraph minimum

WELL I SURE THINK I CAN HEEHEHEEEHE

ok so before i get into it, i do have a whole oc blog @glasyasbutch that i used to use a lot when we were all locked inside our houses and now i reblog like. one post a week. BUT it does have a page w all the characters so u can see like. art and stuff bc i wont be trying to add images to this post

OKAYOKAY OKAY . SO. I . okay. okay. I’m not gonna do all of them bc i have a lot of them but i’ll do . all the ones I’ve played recently + a few others I think are really fun.

1. Stitch: this is the PC from the game i was talking about in the server last night, its not actually d&d, it’s a noir detective-inspired super power system called City of Mist. Our campaign is set in a steampunk-ish tiered city with like 300 floors to it, the higher you go the richer it gets. Stitch is an early 20s girl who wears huge glasses and turtlenecks/scarves all the time. She’s a seamstress who makes dresses for the upper upper floors.

About four years ago one of her regular clients, Bela la Monte, was actually another rift (in universe name for people w powers) training Stitch in using her powers, which are. I guess easiest way to describe it is force powers?? She can like push/pull/crush/stretch things at a distance, with a lot of strength coming at the cost of no fine control (she can blow down a door, but couldn’t be delicate enough to just turn the handle).

She killed Bela’s husband in an accident with her powers, essentially crushing his throat and killing him, and she suffered a little bit of backlash which left her with marks on her own neck which she wears the high necks/scarves to hide. Bela took the heat of the criminal investigation, basically playing up the Black Widow trope and implying she was the one who killed him but would pay her way out of a conviction if she got one so it wouldn’t be worth it to charge her.

During the investigation, Bela and Stitch agreed to stop spending time around each other to try and keep them from prying too much into Stitch and potentially uncovering her guilt, and Stitch just hasn’t heard from Bela in 4 years. (Unbeknownst to her, Bela convinced herself that the accident was premeditated and Stitch had been planning to take them both out, and now has a huge vendetta she’s waiting for right moment to follow through on). Without Bela’s guidance, Stitch has been trying to find other Rifts who can help her learn about and control her powers, which means sticking her nose into all kinds of troublesome accidents and mysteries around the city but also having to stay unnoticed so her past doesn’t get dug up.

2. Craving: My one and only, I have genuinely written like 3000 word essays about Craving’s backstory and I will try to pare it down.

She’s a tiefling, wine red skin w very very very long very very very curly hair. One side of her head appears to have very close cropped hair but if you look closely, it’s actually very little barbs, which she actually has all over her body (she is a barbed tiefling). shes goth and wears exclusively like victorian style ballgowns that make her boobs look good. She started as a rogue and over the course of the campaign also started taking levels in warlock (i’ll talk more on that later).

she has like every tragic backstory you can think of all smashed into one. she grew up poor in a gentrified area, her parents dying while she was young due to poverty/medical malpractice (more there that i dont have space to get into or i’ll be here all day). she (named velis at the time), her brother sirris, and sirris’ boyfriend rolx ran their family’s antique store and were barely scraping by but it was a happy life, until one day the shop got ransacked and set on fire with them still inside in a deliberate hate crime. sirris died, and velis and rolx vowed revenge.

they took the names craving (because she would never be able to take back enough of what the world owed her) and manic (because he was only living to satisfy his rage) and basically went on a revenge quest, first killing the guys who set fire to their town and then just sticking with the outlaw “rich people don’t deserve shit, bleed em dry” mentality.

while doing that, she met a gnome named stella who had her own fire-based dead family trauma that caused her to turn to a life of crime and they got arrested and broke out of jail together. Over several months of meeting randomly, and then not-so-randomly, to spend the night and work jobs together they fell in love but craving refused to admit it bc she’d seen w her parents and then rolx and sirris that love only ends in tragedy.

and she was right - stella went missing without a trace one day (i have other backstory there again wont get into it or we’ll be here all day). alone again w just her and manic, they ended getting sucked into barovia aka inescapable vampire-infested hellscape. which is the actual campaign.

two other people in the party were a rogue/warlock named leoros and a cleric named judhas. craving was immediately very jealous of leoros bc, due to a combination of him having super crazy stat bonuses and me not being able to roll dice for shit, basically was just better at being a rogue than craving was. and she has a HUGE ego and a HUGE inferiority complex and would have done anything to not feel second best.

enter judhas, who as it turns out, was a cleric of asmodeus. the devil. and he was like uhhhhh you know. i can hook you up with someone. and he sent glasya, the demon in charge of manipulation and loopholes to offer craving a warlock pact to give her powers. in one of the coolest rp moments of all time, she showed up trying to strike a chord with the inferiority complex being like “oooh craving ... youre so weak and pathetic ... you have no morals and no skills ... its only a matter of time before they all realize it and leave you ... what a pity.” and then craving starts LAUGHING and she’s like “you almost had me, you really did, but the only thing I hate worse than being weak is being pitied.” and then GLASYA goes “well, before you leave, can i at least show you why I pity you?”

AND THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE PULLS UP A LOST SOUL FROM HELL AND IS LIKE “IF YOU TOOK MY DEAL, AND LET ME TEACH YOU, YOU MIGHT EVENTUALLY HAVE THE POWER TO SAVE HIM. BUT IF YOU DON’T, WELL ... AND TURNS TO LOOK AT THE SOUL AND SAYS ‘SAY GOODBYE TO CRAVING, SIRRIS. TELL ROLX HELLO FOR HIM’ AND VANISHES.

Now, that was not Actually craving’s brother sirris but just a random soul named sirris, but obviously craving doesn’t know that, and so while manic is being offered powers by this super duper good god who’s trying to give him (and craving by extension) a redemption arc, craving gets judhas to call glasya back up and signs a pact with glasya without even reading it because she’s just so desperate to be able to save her brother, even though this is definitely going to damn her to hell, she was probably going anyways so. what’s the loss.

and ughgghghgh it’s just SO much fun to rp as her and her story is so well crafted, much thanks to our DM and the player for manic, and its so tragic and so good and it makes me go crazy if i think about it too much and yeah.

Gent: Ok this one’s pure wish fulfillment, he’s a he/him lesbian named Gent as in Gentleman. He’s a blue tiefling, a pirate, a wizard with a sword, and the sexiest bitch alive.

He’s from a campaign set in the world of one of my fave ttrpg shows to watch (critical role) and basically he grew up in a port city and had some innate magical ability that got noticed by one of the captains of a ship that often docked in port there. She offered to train him and get him private tutelage from the big name wizard recluse who lived in a tower in the middle of the city IF he agreed to work as a deckhand on her crew, which he happily took up.

Her name was Captain Crystal and as it turned out, the trade ship was only a cover. She and her crew were all casters and they ran one of the most feared pirate ships, which physically transformed as they pulled out of sight of port. The sails would change color, the ship would become swathed in shadow, and the masthead of a dainty girl with a dagger held in folded hands against her sternum would lean forwards, bear its pointed teeth, and brandish the dagger as it grew into a cutlass.

Captain Crystal eventually has plans to use her caster crew to lead a coup and crown herself pirate queen, but as she’s been biding her time Gent’s been training up to a very high level abjuration wizard which without getting too much into d&d mechanics is basically like a defensive/protection wizard and trust me its very cool and sexy. He has a sword that he casts all of his spells out of which is also very cool and sexy.

Overall he’s very sociable, very friendly, but his biggest downfall is that he hates not knowing things. He will put himself in an unreasonable amount of danger just to figure things out because he hates not understanding how all the pieces are being put together. His character voice is me doing a bad russian accent.

Tov: Tov is my character from an abandoned campaign that I will never forgive the fact that it got abandoned because he’s literally my only guy ever and I love him so much.

He’s a silver dragonborn and his whole deal is like. Okay so in d&d lore gods are real and tangible and thousands of years ago they fought a bunch of wars against each other using the people on the material plane as their armies, and the dragon god bahamut created an entire race of dragonlings to fight in his name. Tov is from a clan of dragonborns that can actually trace their lineage all the way back to one of these armies created by a god and due to that, pretty much everyone in the clan has some innate magical ability.

keyword: pretty much. tov was one of the few people in recorded history born without any innate magic and he and his brother nagrax spent years and years trying to find ways to bring out the magic that was lying latent in him, or find him another way to gain powers so that he wouldn’t basically be the dud of the family. They ended up going to this site that had been mentioned as a place of great power and mystery, and it turned out to be a gate to the shadowfell (which is like. its overrun with shadow and decay and the plane itself feeds on your life force and corrupts your sense of humanity and turns you into a walking shell of yourself basically).

tov walked through the gate and got a little nugget of shadowfell implanted in him and it corrupted him and made him bent on nothing but destruction and he stepped back out of the gate and tried to kill his brother. rax eventually subdued him and was like “tov what the fuck” and tov was like “the ... the gate ... it showed me this horrible shadow version of you and i just felt the need to destroy it i didnt know it was really you at first” and rax was like. “at first? when did you realize it was me?” and tov just doesn’t answer because he realized pretty soon in that it was his real brother but he still couldn’t fight the urge to kill him

and rax was like, listen i dont know what walked back out of that gate but it’s not my brother anymore. my brother would never have tried to harm me once he realized. and as a testament to his memory, i am going to let you live. and i am going to back home. by myself. and tell everyone that tov died so at least his name isn’t tarnished by whatever the hell is wrong with you. and i never want to see you again. and leaves

and now tov is just alone, he gained magic but at the cost of his family and his humanity which is cosntantly fighting with this piece of the shadowfell inside him. he took up monsterhunting because he thought it might be a helpful way to channel his desire to destroy, and in the process met this woman savra who was basically brainwashed by a murder cult in her youth and now works this thing called the order of the gauntlet which is basically a protection guild that works to keep the city safe and the law just.

and she offers tov a job there and they’ve grown closer as friends and were just starting to date before the campaign cut off, but like they’re both people who are haunted by a past of horrid horrid destruction who are both learning how to be more than the blood on their hands, and that there are people in this world who can know the worst parts of them and love them anyways, and she was going to call him a good man and really mean it and he’d feel a weight fall off his shoulders and they were going to get married and tov was going to have a home and family for the first time in like 10 years but we never finished the campaign and it makes me scream and cry

ok those are like my top 3 + stitch and ive already written wayyyyy too much but i have. many many more and i could talk about them forever.

(ezra glimmer ebbie nissy are all ones ive actually played and have many many thoughts about; stella (from cravings backstory) hed’ja billie and unnamed klingon ripoff are ones i just have concepts for but havent had a chance to play in a campaign bc they’d require a Lot of homebrew worldbuilding to make their concepts work, but if you want to know more about any of THOSE guys feel free to ask but youve already had to read so much im not putting more on here)

#sorry for not answering earlier i was out running errands all day #but thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu for sending this in you indulge all my silly little ideas #<33333333 #asks

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mrs-han · 2 years

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“Is that a Disney princess costume?”

“Actually, it’s a dress from the movie Anastasia. Have you heard of it?”

“Jumin, you want me to wear a huge ballgown while we try to evade your mother?”

“… The idea was better in my head.”

You giggled. “Yeah, probably!”

“Still, you need to change. Your clothes are… rather soiled.” Jumin ran his finger along your black dress, obviously pleased with the blotch of white along the hem.

“… You totally planned this,” you smiled, impishly pushing his chest. “Sometimes, you are so transparent.”

Jumin shrugged. “You’re the one who came down here, after all.”

“Now I gotta wear this huge — hey! You should change too!”

Jumin pulled out a finely tailored black suit - one very similar to the one he was currently wearing…

“YOU DID PLAN THIS!”

“Put the dress on,” Jumin laughed, shedding his jacked from his shoulders. “My mother is still upstairs.”

You grumbled and turned, slipping your black dress off with ease. You grabbed the golden sparkly gown and started working your way from the bottom…

But you could feel his eyes watching. Watching intently.

“Get dressed!” You blushed.

“I am,” Jumin hummed, the clink of his belt a small affirmation. “Don’t mind me.”

“Then why are you watching me!” You laughed, turning to face him.

Jumin’s pupils dilated. The shape of your breasts were outlined perfectly against the shimmery fabric - your waist curved perfectly, the embroidery accenting each and every fold of your beautiful body.

“Oh,” you gasped as the dress fell slightly, revealing the gentle droop of your breast. “I’ll be honest, the dress is gorgeous… where did you get it?”

Jumin swallowed the lump in his throat and tightened his tie, coughing as the silk pressed against his jugular. “It’s by Mercáce, an… up and coming designer.”

“I gotta see if I can find more dresses from them! Mer… mer. Merr.”

Jumin blushed wildly as you adjusted the dress. “You needn’t worry. Everything you could ever want is at your disposal.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you cringed. “You make me sound like a snobby rich woman who has nothing better to do — agh. Jumin, could you zip me up?”

Jumin’s heart began to pound. “Of course. Turn around.”

You turned, allowing Jumin to see your exposed back. The curve of your spine, the hairs that lightly speckled your neck, the moles that lay scattered against your skin - Jumin noticed it all.

What he wouldn’t give to touch you again.

His fingers lightly fiddled with the diamond-encrusted zipper. “Why are you holding your breath?”

“So that the dress zips!” You wheezed.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jumin laughed, resting his hand on your waist. “Breathe. The dress will fit you perfectly.”

As you exhaled, Jumin lightly pressed his fingers against your bodice. He moved closer to you, dragging his hand from your waist to your bare shoulder and neck.

“Is this an excuse to touch me some more, Jumin?” You giggled.

“You asked me to zip you up, did you not?”

“Which should literally take you two seconds!”

“What can I say?” Jumin slowly slid the zipper up, moving his face closer to your neck. “I’m very practiced with my movements.”

You shivered, eager to see what he would do next. You turned to face him and cup his cheeks, but in a flash - he had moved away from you.

“Hey…” you whined.

“Why are you so eager?” Jumin smiled cheekily.

“Why are you teasing me?!”

“Now, now. No need to shout.” Jumin’s finger flicked the back of your neck - you jolted as though a spark passed through you.

“Shall we go? I created a secret passageway here, so we’ll be able to escape soundly.”

“… Only after you give me a kiss,” you blushed, hands behind your back. “You tease too much.”

Jumin’s sleek fingers lifted your chin with ease. His pinky grazed your throat playfully - intentionally - and you giggled, making him beam proudly. “Yes, ma’am.”

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #AN I NEED CHU.#DENENENENENENE #AN I MISS CHU #DENENENENENE #I totally lost count 😂#Spotify

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defectivehero · 3 years

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Vigilante threw himself over the roof and down the side of the building, gliding down the wall and landing on the hard pavement of the palace. He groaned, brushing the dirt off his pants in annoyance. The only reason he had accepted this job was because of the pay. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be there. He had infiltrated dozens upon dozens of different buildings, looking for different people, but never had he had a target of such a high profile- the princess. Not only was she royalty, but she was also relatively prominent in the lawmaking process of the republic. Vigilante had been offered an enormous sum of money for the princess, and, well, he couldn’t resist, even if it meant sneaking into the palace in the middle of the night.

He let out a heavy sigh, pacing silently around the wall and into one of the side entrances of the building. The palace was huge- it could take hours just for him to find the princess, let alone kidnap her. Vigilante paused in the doorway, glancing down the long carpeted hallway. Where would the princess’s room be? That would be the only logical place for her to be in the middle of the night. He took another look down the hallway before walking down it. The security in the palace itself was surprisingly mediocre, he had to admit. Passing door after door, Vigilante continued down the hallway until he found himself in front of a large, grand staircase. The princess’s room would likely be on the top floor- they probably believed her to be safer there. Vigilante laughed at the thought as they climbed up the staircase. When he reached the top, he found himself standing in front of a humongous set of doors. He took a step closer and shook his head as the room came into his view. It was decorated in a very grandiose way, with a large bed in the center of the room. He squinted, pretty sure that it was the princess’s room. Where was she?

Vigilante groaned and stepped out of the room, sliding down the staircase with ease. He looked all around the interior of the palace, but he had no luck. The princess was nowhere to be found.

At one point, Vigilante found himself in the gardens outside the palace. The gardens were quite beautiful, complete with large fountains and colorful flowers. He was about to keep walking when he heard the sound of heels clicking. He turned and took a quick glance, grinning when he realized it was the princess.

“You can come out now.”

Vigilante felt his heart drop to his stomach. Had he been discovered? Surely not. He had trained in stealth for years, surely a snobbish, spoiled princess wouldn’t be able to hear him-

“Come on now.” the princess pressed. Vigilante winced, stepping out from behind the pillar and into the moonlight. He felt his breath catch as he saw the princess sitting on the edge of the fountain- she was quite beautiful. Her dark hair shone in the moonlight, and her eyes gleamed with mischief. She wasn’t wearing a ballgown or anything, just a nightgown. Still, he knew she was the princess- she had a regal air about her.

“That was impressive.” Vigilante whistled. “Most people don’t notice my presence right away.” Most people never notice...

“I’m not most people.” the princess shrugged, fiddling with the hem of her dress. He was suddenly possessed with the strange urge to grab her hands and hold them to make her stop fidgeting. Ignoring that thought, Vigilante took a step closer, hand itching to grab his dagger. “This is my favorite place in the castle.” the princess whispered. Vigilante squinted at her, unsure if she was talking to him or talking to herself. “It’s the only place I can go to get away from it all.” she whispered, putting her head in her hands.

Vigilante walked closer to her, until they were only a few feet away. He looked down at her, guilt spreading through his stomach as he noticed how her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “I just want to be free.” the princess’s voice cracked. Vigilante felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat, and realized with surprise that he was about cry. He looked away quickly, rubbing at his eyes vigorously. He couldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be doing this- talking to the target. He had a mission to do.

“I- I came here to kill you.” Vigilante blurted out, heat rushing to his cheeks when he realized he had said that out loud.

“I figured.” the princess let out a watery laugh, very high-pitched and strained. Vigilante immediately felt guilt course through him again. He grabbed his dagger, and the princess noticed, her eyes following the dagger. “Well, just do it, then.” she stood up and walked over to him.

Vigilante brought his shaking hand up and pointed the dagger at the princess’s heart. He tightened his grip, desperate not to give away the internal conflict he had. The princess had such a raw expression on her face- sheer vulnerability. It made him feel even more indecisive.

Evidently, he was taking too long, because he then felt the princess’s hand on his own. Before Vigilante could register what was happening, the princess was guiding the dagger in his hand towards her own heart.

“Come on, then.”

“I- I can’t.” Vigilante dropped the dagger, and it fell onto the pavement with a clatter. For some reason, he just couldn’t kill the princess. She was too kind, too compassionate, too trusting of a stranger.... He felt the need to protect her, which was a rather ironic twist on why he had been sent there in the first place.

“I'm never getting out of here, am I?” the princess laughed maniacally, tears streaming down her cheeks. Vigilante flinched at the sudden outburst. “I’ll never be able to see the outside world, to make decisions for myself-” she cried. Vigilante wrung his hands, glancing around nervously. He couldn't be seen here, he should probably leave. He was about to walk away when he noticed the distraught expression on the princess’s face. Sighing, he sat down next to her.

“You aren’t trapped here.” Vigilante looked over at her, immediately regretting his statement when he saw the hopeful expression on her face. “I... never mind-” he started, moving to get up. The princess grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, yanking him back in a sitting position.

“Explain.” she demanded, eyes bright. Vigilante sighed loudly, wondering why he had gotten himself into this situation. The princess looked at him expectantly, and he let out another loud sigh.

“Well.” he started, unsure of what to say. “I’m one of the best vigilantes out there, and I’m very good at escaping security measures so...

“You want me to go with you?” the princess asked warily. Immediately Vigilante was reminded of the reality of the situation. As much as he liked the princess, she would always hate him. There was no chance she would ever accept his help, even if it meant his freedom. “You just tried to kill me.” she glanced at him suspiciously.

“Yeah, well.” Vigilante’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don't necessarily have a rebuttal for that, but I will say.. I won't do it again.” the princess giggled at that, and he felt a warmth spreading through his chest as he saw her smile.

“Okay, let’s go.” the princess smiled at him, taking his hand.

“Wait. Really?” he asked, cringing at how high-pitched his voice had become.

“Yeah.” she grinned.

“Alright then.” he smiled, a warm feeling rising in his chest. “Let’s get out of here.”

#NOT A PROMPT #writing #writeblr #short fic #snippet #uh #vigilante x princess #idk what to tag this #anywayz #im tired #but I had ice cream so

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fandomdancer · 3 years

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The Dance

In the year 2169, you are a senior in high school. You've been best friends with the same two young men since grade school. One of them is your date to the senior dance. The other is the class loner: Eobard Thawne. When your date make a suddenly unexpected move, you find yourself feeling like the perfect night is ruined. But then Eobard shows up...

Word Count: 3,754 words

Rating: T, but may be M

Pairings: OC/Reader, Eobard/Reader

A/N: First attempt at a reader-insert fic. Special thanks to @darlingpetao3 @yetanotherwells @wellsaddict and @hawk-lee for listening to me freak out about this, inspiring me, and giving me the courage to actually post it. I hope it's interesting and fun for you to read.

This is Mattobard's version of Thawne, since it takes place during his teenage years.

This fic was inspired by this song (which is the featured waltz in the story). 'Pride and Penance', from World of Warcraft: Shadowlands.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZtBflZHIcQ

_________________________________________________________

The moment you step into the darkened dance hall, you feel as though you have been transported back in time. In fact, you can’t help but wonder if the organizers of this year’s spring formal are utilizing some of Rip Hunter’s famous Time Couriers to literally open a door to the past. Everything around is, at minimum, dated back a hundred years ago, from the DJ setting up digital playlists to the black-light-illuminated chairs seated around tables littered with drinks, plates of food, and what looks like games. The music right now is from the early 2000s, but you expect the songs to range through decades, possibly even centuries over the course of the night. Multicolored lights hang from the ceiling, giving the place an overall ‘club’ look, accentuated by the powerful underlighting at the bar.

The temperature increases as you enter on your date’s arm, the exertion from the dancing and milling bodies heating up the air in the room. The dance started only thirty minutes ago, but the excitement in the room is palpable, and kids are wasting no time yelling ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ as they toss back nonalcoholic drinks. One table is already full of kids engaged in what looks like an intense card game with multicolored discs sprayed across the table in front of them.

Catching the fever of the room, you cast a huge grin up at your date, a handsome young man you’ve known since grade school. The two of you are dressed perhaps a little fancy for the event, with him in a fine, high-collared suit befitting a 20th century aristocrat and you in a deep red 1940s princess ballgown. Overdressing is okay: the two of you were expecting a slightly more ‘ballroom’ shindig, not this ‘21st century club’ event, and upon looking around you can see that other members of your class had similar ideas, wearing everything from 1800s Victorian gowns to military uniforms.

“They did a good job,” your date says. “Though one would think they could have come up with a more original theme name than ‘Blast to the Past’.”

“Don’t cheesy titles comprise part of the charm of last century?” you ask as the two of you move towards the obligatory picture arena. “Wasn’t stating the obvious considered not only funny, but…what was the word…a meemee?”

“Meme. One word, one syllable. And yes. Memes were a rather popular form of communication in the early 21st century, though I guess they started well before that.” Your date eyes the line and the picture-taking arena before them. “Is that….a phone booth?”

You are both intrigued as you watch a couple go into the booth, pulling a curtain shut and separating them from the outside world. Their feet are obvious as they scrabble into various positions, each one punctuated by a bright flash ands lots of giggling. The couple emerges, looking flushed and full of smiles, and watch as two thin strips of plastic emerged from the wall of the booth. The two grab the plastic strips and look at them, giggling as they walk away.

“It’s a photo booth.”

The voice right beside you and your date startles you, and you quickly look over to see one of the chaperones for the event, Ms. Steinway, a few feet away. The young teacher looks stunning in a green floor-length gown, her blonde hair floating ethereally around her shoulders. She gestures. “You go in, and you have five pictures taken of you in quick succession. There’s usually only three to four seconds between each photo so people often planned ahead what they would do ahead of time. You can make faces, or be serious…whatever you would like!”

“Thank you, Ms. Steinway,” you say before looking back to your date. “Well. I guess we have about a minute to come up with five different poses.”

“Why don’t we improvise? We’re both good thinkers on our feet.”

The tension and pressure of racing to beat a timed photo session is appealing to you, probably a side effect of all the time you've been spending lately with your other friend, Eobard Thawne. He has a strong taste for competition and it’s been rubbing off on you in the years you’ve known him.

The sudden thought of Thawne makes you skim the room, wondering if the class loner has actually shown up to tonight’s dance. You’re pretty sure he’s not here; this isn’t his type of thing at all. It’s certainly why you didn’t ask him to be your date. It’s also the only reason why you didn’t ask him to be your date. Eobard Thawne’s proud, handsome figure and strikingly keen intellect has drawn many a girl’s attention over the years, including yours, and you’ve made a concentrated effort to ignore it. But lately, you’ve noticed that he seems to be hovering near you much more often. And he got into a fistfight with your date a few weeks ago…you never did quite figure out what had caused that argument…

Seeing him here tonight would definitely open a lot of doors, however. Perhaps you would be brave enough to ask him for a single dance. He can be a truly arrogant ass but he has always been at least civil to you…probably because the two of you have also known each other since grade school.

Your date pushes you forward and you realize that, as usual, thoughts of Eobard have distracted you for several seconds. It is your turn in the photo booth.

The booth is small and simple, with a little touch screen that simply says ‘go’. A quick glance over the screen shows that presets are in place, with no way to change them. It is a little aggravating to not be able to customize the photos but you suppose that’s to get the line of kids moving quickly. With a quick glance at your date, the two of you reach out and tap the ‘go’ button together.

The very first thing he does is kiss you. It’s so fast and so intense that you don’t even have time to react. Suddenly his mouth is open and wet and moving on yours and his hand is in your carefully-crafted hairstyle and you are shocked beyond words because of all the poses you had considered in this run of pictures, your longtime friend kissing you was not one of them. You’ve suspected he felt this way about you and there was no doubt in your mind that he would be an excellent romantic partner, but you hadn’t really…thought about him like that. In fact, the only person you really thought about like that was…Eobard.

He finally pulls back and looks quickly at the camera, grinning widely. Your brain is fuzzed and rolling with several unfinished sentences and questions, but some little part of you keeps control and turns to smile bright and beautiful at the screen. The two of you make silly faces next, and as you are setting up for what you think is the next picture, the screen goes dark. You realize in shock that he used three of the five pictures to kiss you. Feeling frustrated and cheated, you get out of the booth, pasting a smile on your face so as not to appear angry to the line of kids waiting outside. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss his choices later.

The pictures print out and they’re definitely difficult to look at. The first one shows your obvious surprise, but the second two are worse, showcasing your desperate attempt to keep control of what is happening by grabbing at his face and responding to his kiss. It was not your best decision, but you feel like it was your only choice at the moment – and that realization makes you furious.

The two of you head to an unoccupied table, and the moment you set down the photos you whirl on your date, your insides twisted in knots and your throat almost sealed shut from the force of your anger. “What the hell?”

“What?”

It’s even hotter in this room with your anger charging you up. You are pretty sure your face is the color of your dress. “You kissed me.”

He smiles. “Of course I did. What did you think we were going to do in there?”

Your mouth drops open. “Make faces and smile! When did kissing appear on the list of things to do tonight?”

His brow furrows. “When you agreed to be my date. Come now, you can’t possibly miss all the signs I’ve given you. You know me better than that.”

His self-entitled arrogance sets your teeth on edge and you clutch the table so hard you’re amazed it doesn’t bend. “I’ve known you for almost all of my life and you have never been so rude as to just kiss someone without making sure it’s all right with them! You wait for that kind of invitation! You don’t blindside her during a timed picture taking session!”

“Spontaneity has never been your thing, and I respect that,” he begins to say.

You cut him off. “Clearly not or these wouldn’t exist!” You wave the pictures at him before slamming them down onto the table. You don’t know what you’re angrier about now; being forced into this situation before you felt ready, his seeming blindness to how the whole situation played out, or the fact that you feel like what should have been a beautiful moment is ruined and you are never going to get it back.

A waltz begins to play, the very song the two of you were hoping would be the focus of the evening, and he reaches a hand out to you. “You’re right. I made a terrible mistake. I thought it would be fun and I assumed you would be all right with it. I am sorry. I truly am. We will go have the pictures retaken. But will you dance with me? This sounds like a beautiful waltz and I don’t want to have ruined the night by making a terrible decision right at the beginning.”

He sounds sincere but you don’t answer him at first. Your mind is still awash with anger and betrayal and a sudden desire to be anywhere but in this room right now. You don’t want to just forgive him for doing this to you. But you also don’t want the night to be ruined, and right now the song playing sounds like it could be a wonderful dance and you aren’t sure how many more will be played with the selection of music likely being offered. Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his.

“We aren’t done with this conversation,” you state firmly.

“Of course not.” He twirls you gently. “But this song fits you and I want to see you dancing to it.”

You don’t know the name of the song, but it has a haunting melody to it, almost ghostlike with sliding violins. Waltzes always have a kind of built-in grace to them, a slippery seduction meant to make it easy to move to. But this piece has an additionally dramatic vocalist that elevates the rhythm to something royal and aristocratic. You can almost imagine the two of you (and the couples that are joining you on the floor) dancing in the hall of an ancient, grand mansion while a dark storm swirls outside the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dry fingers of tree branches curl menacingly in shadows on the floor, trapping the dancers’ feet in their grip.

“Pardon me.”

The familiar voice snaps you out of the daydream you are drifting into, and you rock slowly back and forth in your date’s arms as you realize Eobard is standing in front of you two. Your breath catches and your heart rate picks up instantly as you look at him. He looks as though he has stepped straight out of your daydream: a young lord trapped in a dying manor, cloaked in high-collared black and red with the light shimmering blindingly on his short blond hair. Even more shocking is the dramatic flair he has added to the outfit: a full-length black cape fastened at his neck with a ruby. He is too beautiful to touch and yet your hands…and other, sweeter, deeper parts of you…ache as you stare at him.

His eyes sweep over you and you think you see his jaw clench slightly before he speaks again. “May I cut in?”

“You’re in our way, Bardo,” your date growls, all softness and politeness gone from his voice.

“I wasn’t addressing you,” Eobard responds to him but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Your throat is growing dry from the simple intensity of his gaze. “I was addressing your partner." He nods to you. "May I cut in?”

You finally register what he is asking, and the thrill that races through you makes you shiver. You had thought you might have the courage to ask him to dance if you had seen him here, but him asking you is completely unexpected. Saying no to him might prevent him from asking again, but saying yes would probably send the wrong message to your date.

Then again, your date certainly sent you the wrong message when he forced you to kiss him in the photo booth.

It’s a very simple question with a very simple answer.

“I would be honored,” you reply, trying to sound as cool and proper as possible. As you pull away from your date, you feel his hands clench briefly on you. You quickly look up at him, seeing the betrayal in his eyes. At first you feel smug, but then you remind yourself that he did apologize. You give him your best comforting smile. “We’ll continue this later,” you say to him, making his expression soften just a little. But the look he gives Eobard is poisonous.

Eobard’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he unfastens the cape from around his neck and whips it dramatically off, draping it unceremoniously on your date’s still-outstretched arms. “Would you be so kind as to place this on a nearby chair?”

Redness floods your date’s face, and you start to open your mouth to scold Eobard for his rudeness, but his hands grip you firmly and he spins you away into the dancing crowd before you can say a word. Your feet scrabble as you try to keep up, and you have a feeling he’s trying to get you as far away from your date as fast as possible. Focusing on your movements, you catch his rhythm and begin to move in time with him, gaining control over yourself while still permitting him to lead. You’re angry enough now that you’re tempted to just walk out the door after this dance. When did your two best friends turn into such boys? They’re acting like you’re a prize in a competition and while that might be flattering, it’s making you feel a bit like an object and not like the lady you want to be tonight.

“You dance well,” Eobard compliments.

You roll your eyes. “You dragged me out here and I just got my balance back. Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he answers. “I mean what I say. I saw you trying to dance with your date over there. He was trying. You were succeeding.”

You snort and sigh. “I wish the two of you would tell me why you both seem to have lost your minds lately.”

Eobard tilts his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Your heart pounds and you know what you hope the answer is, but coming right out and saying it feels like a such a terrible risk. Eobard’s emotional difficulties make him dangerous sometimes, the wrong word or look pushing him away for days at a time. You are not going to ruin this night, this dance, this moment that has been playing in your dreams.

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have brought it up,” you say, trying to put an innocent look on your face. You aren’t sure if it works or not, but the hard look in Eobard’s eyes softens somewhat, and he guides you around the floor. Looking up at him, you surrender your mind to the daydream, milking this moment for all it is worth. The seductive waltz paints the image of a great hall, decadent in its decay, the memory of opulence just as romantic as the opulence itself. And Eobard, cold and proud and throat-achingly beautiful, spins you around it, commanding your body with his touch, and commanding your mind with his eyes.

“Your friend and I,” he says in a low voice, “are both seeking your approval.”

Dear God, he actually said it. You’re almost dizzy with excitement as you frantically think of how to navigate the next few sentences. Honesty is going to be key. “You have a funny way of showing it. First that fistfight a few weeks ago and now tonight he just kisses me out of the blue and then you drag me off like I belong to you or something…”

“He did what?” Eobard stops the two of you cold, and you blink, looking up at his grey eyes, watching in surprise as they turn stormy and dark. His pale face begins to flush as he gazes down at you. You can’t tell if what you’re seeing is anger or not, but as his eyebrows draw together you feel your insides flutter. It’s more than just anger. It’s jealousy.

Eobard is jealous.

The realization makes your throat close and you swallow several times as adrenaline floods your veins. The possibilities open up in your mind, and you suddenly realize that while both men are, in fact, treating you like a prize, you are still the one in control.

“He kissed me for our photo,” you say carefully, letting the frustration and hurt show on your face. “I didn’t know he was going to.”

Eobard looks at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his face continuing to grow red. His hands tighten on your waist and hand, and a strange excitement blooms in your chest. Eobard Thawne, so aloof and elitist, suffering from the simple emotion of jealousy. And jealousy related to you, because he’s seeking your approval. Despite the heat of the moment, you find yourself fighting a smile.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks tightly.

You know the truth and you know what saying it will mean. But right now, you are unable to lie to him, captivated by the thrill of his reaction and the intoxicating crescendo building around you.

“No.”

Eobard’s chin lifts and a smug satisfaction fills his eyes as the music crescendos loudly. With a climactic crash of drums, he decisively pushes you out into a firm spin, and then brings you back in, his hand slipping to the small of your back and holding you flush against his body. And for one fiery, fierce moment, you realize that you can feel him, dear God, all of him, pressed possessively against you, and a weakness makes your knees wobble and your mouth go dry as you stare into his eyes, only inches away, and realize what he is silently saying to you.

Then the two of you are moving again as he takes everything up another notch, whirling you both within the crowd as though you have all the space in the world. The music pounds with your steps, pulsing inside of you, the melody a full-throated cry from the whole orchestra, igniting adrenaline and fire within you. Your mouth falls open to gasp for air as your eyes drift closed. You don’t need to see, only to feel the clutch of his hands and the heat of his body and the light pressure on your waist as he leads you.

And then, in one powerful beat, the music stops. Eobard pushes you backwards into a dramatic dip, holding you up while your hands claw at him. You can’t see the ecstasy on your face but a few gasps from the people around you suggest that the two of you may be in a very compromising position. You don’t care. Your body is shaking and tingling. You feel sweat dampening your skin, and the heat…you’re drowning in it. But you don’t want to move. You don’t want it to be over. Most of all, you don’t want his hands leaving you. Ever.

Your breath comes in heavy gasps as he draws you up to your feet. He steadies you, and your eyes finally drift open. The sight before you makes you shiver again. Eobard is breathing just as hard as you are, and has the same slightly dazed expression on his face that you are feeling. You vaguely realize that while you were trying to keep your balance you gripped his hair and shirt because both of them are bunched and mussed. But neither of you can look away from the other for several seconds.

Finally, he is the first one to move. He gently straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair. He brings his heels together and reaches for your hand. He bows, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“Thank you,” he says, “for the lovely dance. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I need some air.”

You nod slowly. “I…think I do too.”

Something sparks in his eyes, and he offers you his arm. You consider taking it, but the sensation that sweeps through you as you realize what the implications are stop you. You are awash in powerful emotions now, enough to know that if you go with him, you’re going to do something you want…

….oh do you want….

….but on impulse, caught up in the moment.

You know you need to gather yourself. The night has only just begun.

“I will see you back in here,” you reply, offering a polite curtsey. It isn’t a blatant rejection, just more of a ‘not now’. Eobard seems to understand and his withdraws his hand before turning and striding for the door.

You head for a different exit, catching a glimpse of your date just as you leave the room. His face is a thunderstorm, and you feel a slight chill that cuts through the hazy fog of your mind.

The night has only just begun, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.

#eobard thawne #eobard thawne x reader #reader insert #mattobard #matt letscher #fanfiction #i love this song so much #how could i not write a story to it

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Lost Part 6

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Link to Part 5

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

_______

The next morning Regulus sat across from his mother as she stirred her tea for the thirteenth time. It didn’t matter that Regulus had arrived home at 4:30 am. His parents expected him down for Christmas breakfast at 8:00 am. As usual, no one was saying a word to each other. It made Regulus wonder why they had to “keep up appearances” and dine together. Clearly, no one liked it.

Regulus glanced at his father. Orion was bored as he read over the Daily Prophet. If Orion had his way, all the members of the household could eat at their own schedules in their own way. No one would be locked at the formal dining room table scowling at each other. Orion, like Regulus, only did it to appease Walburga. Neither man really wanted to listen to her nagging. This was a silent agreement that both Orion and Regulus had agreed to years beforehand. If Walburga wanted something then they would just go along with whatever it was. It was best to be reserved and compliant unless they wanted to deal with her hair-trigger temper.

Christmas morning had been a silent affair since Sirius left home years before. There were no longer loud screaming matches on whether or not Sirius was going to eat the Christmas pudding or wear a certain suit to the Christmas dinner with the “cult.” Regulus and Orion simply did as Walburga wished and no one had a thing to bitch about.

“You look tired, Regulus.”

Walburga commented as she studied her youngest and favorite son’s face. His eyes rolled up to meet her face.

“It was a late night last night.”

“You’re doing things for the right reasons. The family should be here around seven. Bella is bringing a nice girl that I think you should get to know better.”

Walburga commented, smiling proudly. Regulus fought the urge to scowl as his father looked up from the newspaper. Orion had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want Regulus to feel rushed to settle down with some girl.

“Mother…”

Walburga shook her head.

“I would like for you to get to know her, Regulus.”

Regulus put his fork down. This was not the way that he wanted to spend the morning. He had a woman...you. The last thing Regulus wanted was some ugly pureblood girl that he was probably related to in some way. He wanted to put an end to the madness!

“Who is she?”

Walburga put down her teacup.

“Marigold Parkinson.”

Regulus, forgetting himself, groaned.

“Mother, please...no.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Walburga asked, getting angry. Regulus put his palms on the table.

“For one, she looks like a walrus. Second, I dated Ambrosia...her sister. That family is crazy. I mean look at how they named their children.”

Orion was silently chuckling at Regulus’ comment.

“A walrus?”

He questioned, fighting back a laugh. Regulus nodded. He was relieved that his father appeared to be on his side.

“Yes, father. Just get her some tusks and boom...National Geographic magazine cover shot.”

Orion was laughing hard at that. He didn’t care if Walburga was scowling at him. Regulus’ out of character humor was enough to send the older man into hysterical giggles. Orion couldn’t say it but that was the one thing that he missed about Sirius being home. There was always something funny happening.

“Orion, Regulus...that isn’t nice. Telling a girl that she looks like a walrus is a horrible way to get a second date.

Walburga grumbled. Regulus shrugged.

“But I don’t want the first one so...put her in a ballgown and she’ll just be a fancy walrus.”

Walburga's dark eyes were glaring at her son with disapproval.

“Well, who would you rather see then, smart mouth?”

Regulus shrugged.

“No one really. I don’t have the time at the moment.”

It was a big ass lie and Regulus knew it. He wanted nothing more than to be with you and he would go to whatever length to make sure that happened. Glancing down at his left arm, he decided to put his master plan into high gear. Regulus had no intention of spending more time than he had to with mummy and daddy. He wanted to spend his day with you and that was just where he was going.

Regulus snapped his right hand over the dark mark with a groan before standing up.

“I have to go.”

Walburga looked a bit annoyed but understood.

“Try not to be late for Christmas dinner.”

(meanwhile)

You stood helping Sirius dry dishes from breakfast. He had been unusually quiet since arriving with James.

“So are you going to tell me about the ring?”

He finally asked. You looked up, trying to fake innocence.

“I’m sorry?”

Sirius motioned down to the ring on your finger.

“I know that particular ring from anywhere. I also happened to know that my grandmother gave it to Regulus. Did you two run off and get married?”

You didn’t reply at first which made Sirius even antsier. How were you supposed to tell Sirius that he had just figured out the little plan that Regulus had suggested? Regulus was all for the two of you sneaking onto a train to a nearby village (where no one knew either of you) lying about your ages and getting married. You thought that the plan was crazy at first. The two of you were children. Neither of you was emotionally ready for a step that BIG. Besides, your relationship was still rocky getting married would make it worse. Regulus’ comment on the idea made more sense…

“If you marry me, my parents won’t have anything to stand on to pull us apart. Once we are married we are each other. My mother may be a lot of things but she won’t be able to change what’s already legal. If they annul it, then when we are 17 we’ll run off and do it but they won’t hear from us anymore. At least, with allowing things to happen this way...they can still have contact. I know that you don’t believe me but my mum and dad are still extremely sore about losing Sirius. They won’t want to lose their other son too.”

“Y/n!”

Sirius said your name a little more urgently before you reached up and tugged him into your father’s office.

“Sirius! I need you to keep your trap shut especially to James and my sister.”

“What did you two do? Y/n this is crazy. Regulus is a death eater...he’s doing bad things with bad people....and...you’ll get caught in the crossfire eventually…”

Sirius questioned. He felt his face beginning to burn. How the hell was Sirius supposed to keep something this huge from James. Sirius was not a good person to tell secrets to. James would probably say hey to Sirius and Sirius would start blabbing.

You quickly shushed Sirius.

“We aren’t married. That hasn’t happened...not yet. Sirius, I am going to need some time before he and I do that. I have to fully trust him again. Regulus did give me the ring last night. Sirius, I understand your concern but Regulus...he has something up his sleeve that he won’t even tell me. There’s something going on with Voldemort that Regulus is working on. Regulus won’t let anything happen to me. Evan, Barty, Severus...all of those lot know that I am off-limits.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“But there are other death eaters….Evan’s father, Dolohov, Mulciber...those guys won’t be so thrilled with a fellow death eater dating a muggle-born. Love, they’ll kill you. Y/n, I know what you’re thinking. You think that you are going to be getting some happiness ever after where you won’t have to want for anything in life but you aren’t going to get it, sweetheart. You’re signing up for a lifetime of sadness and heartbreak. I am not trying to sound like a dick but I’m worried. In case you haven’t forgotten that day back in the forest at school...you weren’t handling the news of Regulus’ secret life too well.”

Sirius was right. You remembered that afternoon all too well.

“Sirius, I just need you to trust me on this...please.”

Sirius didn’t look too convinced. He was more than ready to go find James and Remus to talk some sense into you.

“Okay but I don’t like this.”

You quickly stood on your tiptoes and hugged him.

“It’s going to be okay.”

The rest of the morning and into the early afternoon was peaceful. Sirius’ mood had quickly repaired itself and he was back to making Remus want to choke him. You were sitting beside Remus playing chess when the doorbell rang. Glancing down at your watch, you couldn’t help but smile. Regulus had kept his promise. He did find a way to get to you.

You quickly stood and walked to the door, ignoring James asking Lily who it was. In all of the Christmas chaos you “forgot” to tell your other friends that Regulus would be coming too. They would figure it out soon enough.

Sirius quickly started improvising some weird Christmas carol to keep the rest of his friend’s minds away from what you were doing. Why he decided that he was going to be the one that came to your and Regulus’ rescue was beyond him but here he was doing it...

Opening the door, you smiled seeing Regulus on the other side. He didn’t smile at first but gave you that raised eyebrow that said, “come here, little girl.” You quickly stepped outside and shut the door. Your parents were so busy in the kitchen that they wouldn’t notice you were gone.

As soon as the door was closed you threw your arms around Regulus’ shoulders.

“You haven’t kissed me.”

He stated calmly. Regulus was trying so hard to keep up his dom-like behavior but seeing your face was exactly what he wanted. The two of you shared a smile before he pulled you into a kiss.

“I missed you.”

You happily said against his lips.

“It's only been a few hours.”

Regulus pointed out. Yes, it had only been a few hours and they felt like an eternity for both of you. You knew that Regulus wouldn’t admit it but you could tell that he missed you as much as you missed him.

“Are you coming to me again tonight?”

You asked with a sly smile.

“Yes, I have a surprise for you but you’ll have to keep it down.”

The door opening stopped any further comment. You turned to see Lily and James standing with their mouths wide open. Sheepishly smiling, you intertwined your hand with Regulus’.

“So... we are a couple again.”

James crossed his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t know that you were a couple, to begin with. I didn’t think boyfriends typically made their girlfriends cry and question their sanity but maybe I am missing something.”

You gently stood in front of Regulus. The last thing that you wanted was for him and James to start fighting.

“James, please.”

You said trying to keep your voice as calm as possible. James ran a hand through his hair before turning and meeting Sirius’ gaze as if asking his best friend for advice. When Sirius shrugged, James turned.

“Fine...Regulus, as god as my witness, if you hurt here again...I am going to break your face.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

“Reggie.”

You hissed his name making Regulus’ tense frame ease. He wrapped an arm around your waist as James turned and walked back into the house.

Lily, meanwhile, wondered if any of her little speech on respect had sunk in at all with Regulus. She had a bad feeling that the answer was no but time would have to tell on that one. Lily wanted nothing more than to protect you and at the moment, she felt like she was failing miserably.

As a big sister, Lily wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. Your happiness was always important but so was your safety. Lily felt even more inclined to try to protect you as Petunia didn’t want a thing to do with either of you now.

You felt a little better when Lily gave you a small smile. That small smile simply said, “I’m trying.” Turning your attention back to Regulus, you gently tugged on his hand.

“Come on love.”

Both James and Lily exchanged matching scowls when you called Regulus “love.” James wanted to make a comment about there not being anything “lovely” about Regulus. He would have been happier if you decided to form some weird love triangle with Sirius and Remus. At least, you would be treated properly.

You were relieved when the tension between Lily, James, and Regulus seemed to ease off. James and Lily were busy looking at “future dream homes” while you sat snuggled against Regulus’ side. The two of you were off in your own little world.

“What’s with Petunia? She hasn’t stopped glaring at me from the moment that I walked in?”

Regulus questioned. You turned your attention to Petunia who was whispering to her new boyfriend Vernon. The two looked as if they were disgusted to even be in a room with the lot of you. Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to Regulus.

“She’s a muggle and very jealous of what Lily and I are. Petunia has barely talked to either Lily or me since the day that we received our Hogwarts letters.”

Regulus looked at Petunia a moment longer.

“Her boyfriend looks like a male walrus.”

He internally giggled at the thought of Vernon and Marigold Parkinson making a lovely “walrus couple.” It would be a great joke to make but he didn’t want you to know about his mother wanting him to be with the Parkinson girl.

Regulus instead leaned closer to you, letting his lips tease your ear.

“She’s no beauty that’s for sure. You are a million times more lovely...everything about you, darling.”

You shivered as the desperate attraction began to build again. Since that morning, you had been craving any kind of physical affection that Regulus would be able to give you. Of course, it wasn’t possible to just lift your skirt to climb on his lap for a good fucking but a little caress wouldn’t be bad. Regulus whispering erotically in your ear was equally welcomed.

“Reggie.”

You whispered his name. Regulus smiled and nuzzled his face closer to your ear. He kept his voice even and reserved which made his teasing all the more exciting.

“No one is as beautiful as you, Y/n. I love it when you blush like you are now. Tell me, darling, what kind of knickers do you have on under this skirt?”

You swallowed, mentally begging Regulus to raise his hand up your thigh but he wasn’t budging. Regulus’ hand stayed stagnant on your knee.

“Black lace.”

You finally whispered back. Regulus smiled, feeling the beginning of an erection coming on. He fought the urge to lift a finger to trace over your nipples. From where he was sitting, Regulus could see them through your dress. Touching you, like that, would be a horrible idea at the moment. All that Regulus could do was sit and think about you dressed in only lace knickers.

“Only be wearing those when I come back to you later.”

“What’s my surprise?”

You asked. Regulus laughed lightly.

“You’ll find out...if you’re a good girl.”

For the rest of the night, Regulus was a perfect gentleman. You were convinced that he had your parents in the palm of his hand within five minutes. James really had to work to get your father to like him how here was smooth-talking Regulus Black winning him over in one evening.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Regulus said in a low voice as he leaned down and kissed you. You knew that he was going to “leave” to hide out in your bedroom until you were able to be free but you wanted him now.

“Yes, I’ll see you at school.”

You waited for another fifteen minutes before politely bidding your parents a good evening. James had just left with Sirius and Remus. Lily was clearly as exhausted as you were.

“Aren’t you two going to stay up and watch the Christmas specials with us?”

Your mother questioned. Lily shook her head before heading toward the stairs.

“We are both exhausted, mum. Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Lily.”

You replied before walking down the hallway to your bedroom. Stepping in front of the door, you knew what was waiting for you on the other side and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Time to be a good girl…”

______

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faeriexqueen · 3 years

Text

Labyrinth 30 Day Challenge (Days 23 - 30) (*Last batch to answer! As I suspected, I forgot about these. XD)

23 - Do you have any theories about the movie?

I have a few, though most tend to center around Jareth and his background. My personal headcanon is that he is some variant of fae, though regardless of what he is [ex. fae, human, goblin], I think his existence is linked directly to human belief, such as seen with Sarah and her influence/power. Going off of this, I tend to theorize that the Underground overall is a mirror reflection of the Aboveground, but in the sense that it reflects dreams/beliefs/fantasies. That’s why it’s reminiscent of the old faerie stories in so many ways, and humans have the ability to mold the Aboveground to reflect whatever their dreams/fairytale stories are.

24 - Add a scene to the story.

Since I don’t have the bandwidth to write it out, one scene I would add is something involving Jareth after the ballroom scene - given the expression he makes when Sarah breaks free of the hallucination, I really would have liked to have seen a scene with him following that. (What was his reaction? What did he do afterward?) I feel like something after that moment could have given us a lot of insight into Jareth overall, that maybe we didn’t necessarily get with other scenes. Basically, I’d add another scene with Jareth in some capacity though. I always love seeing him. XD

25 - Would you like a remake of Labyrinth? How do you imagine it would be?

I personally would not like a remake - aside from the fact that I think remakes in general have become exhausting cash grabs, I really feel like it would be hard to keep the magic and integrity of the original film. Labyrinth definitely isn’t perfect from a technical standpoint by today’s standards, but there’s so much charm to the puppetry. The cast was excellent, and I really can’t imagine anyone other than David Bowie in Jareth’s role. If a remake was done, I really don’t think it’d have the same effect or impact as the original.

26 - What about a sequel?

I’m pretty iffy on this, but my general feeling is I wouldn’t like one. However, I would be open to a prequel or spin-off centered on the Underground/goblin characters, similar to how The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance was. I’m a huge fan of The Dark Crystal and was blown away by that series, though I think a huge part of it was that the main characters in AOR weren’t Jen and Kira. I feel like the focus would have to be shifted to other characters for it to be successful, but I think a spin-off/prequel could work with that level of detail and worldbuilding that AOR received.

27 - 10 years have passed. What do you think happened with Sarah, Jareth, etc?

This is where fanfiction is such a fun thing, because we can think about what might have happened. Personally, I think Sarah and Jareth’s paths split. I think Sarah was able to grow into herself more as a person, but Jareth was held back by something - he couldn’t keep her, and he couldn’t follow her. There was some kind of sense of isolation at the end, and I’m not sure if Jareth ever resolved whatever was going on. (Whereas Sarah’s arc came full circle, Jareth’s felt as though it got stuck - as though he were left without something. And I think that was intentional on Jim Henson’s part.) Not to say a happier ending wasn’t waiting for Jareth - this is just my own personal interpretation of the story, and I think it’s one reason it always impacted me as a child and made me a little sad. His arc always read as little more tragic to me.

28 - If Jareth and Sarah meet each other again, how do you think this meeting would be?

I think it could go a lot of ways - there could be some uncertainty and distrust on Sarah’s end, and Jareth could be bitter - angry and yearning. But, I think there could also be a mutual respect for how matched they seemed to be? It’s tricky, because Jareth doesn’t have power over Sarah, but by the end of the film, they feel closer to equals in some regards than not. I definitely believe they made a lasting impression on one another.

29 - Do you think there is a message in the movie? What?

For me, the biggest message was always that transition from childhood to adulthood, and how it isn’t cut and dry - there are things you will yearn for and need (such as Sarah indicating she needs Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus at the end, occasionally for no reason at all), but there are also things and people you will have to walk away from (ex. Jareth). It’s always been a really bittersweet message that I think speaks to a lot of people (myself included). Honestly, for years the ending of Labyrinth made me simultaneously happy and sad, and I think it took a while before I realized this message was why.

30 - Last one: What made you like/love Labyrinth?

It kind of goes back to the first question I answered of how I discovered it, but as a little kid I just...loved Sarah’s dress. And you know, not even the ballgown, but the white one she wears in the park. For some reason, that’s my earliest memory of when I saw the film. As a child, it just was a real fantasy for me. The puppetry and goblins were really engaging even though I was scared when I first saw them, and it honestly has always felt like such a layered film. I can always go back to it and rewatch things, catching stuff I might have missed. It’s just a deeply comforting film to watch and is always a nice offer of a little escapism. ^^

Days 01 - 07. Day 08. Days 09 - 15. Days 16 - 22.

#labyrinth 30 day challenge #30 day challenge #labyrinth #okay these are done xD #I knew I’d forget about them at some point but adjklasdjklasjd

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shelovescontrol91 · 3 years

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Writer/director Kay Cannon (Pitch Perfect, Blockers) has re-envisioned Cinderella as a modern musical with a heroine at its center who has ambitions of a career in a world that just wants her to find a prince to marry. Ella (pop music superstar Camila Cabello) wants to design beautiful ball gowns while her stepmother (Tony Award winner Idina Menzel) unsympathetically attempts to squash her dreams, until her fairy godmother Fab G (Billy Porter) shows up to help boost the confidence she already has in her heart.

During this 1-on-1 interview with Collider, Cabello talked about tackling her first lead feature film role, wanting to be responsible with her platform, believing in herself, her own Cinderella story, the music she’s currently dancing to, getting to put on the ballgown and slippers, the first day of shooting vs. the last day, and her desire to continue doing acting projects.

Collider: When the possibility of playing Cinderella in a big movie musical came your way, especially knowing that fairy tales and particularly princess fairytale is they’re often old-fashioned, misogynistic and sexist, what needed to be there in the character for you to feel like she was someone that you wanted to represent?

CAMILA CABELLO: I feel like I try to be as responsible as I can with my platform and putting forth messages that I stand by and feel like right to me. That is why I did the film. It’s just really empowering for women, and really empowering for me. It doesn’t have these messages that are this black and white way of looking at people, where they’re either good or they’re evil. It just has this complexity that I think is really beautiful.

You’ve had great success as a singer and performer, in that sense, but this was the first time you’re leading a film, as an actress. How did you find your inner confidence, to show up on set and lead this cast, as an actor, doing something that’s outside of what you’ve become known for?

CABELLO: I think that it was about just letting go of my ego, as much as I can, and just trying to have fun with it. Obviously, there were times where I felt nervous and I felt the pressure, but at the end of the day, it’s something that I chose to do because I believe in it. Clearly, I’m here because Kay Cannon, our director, and James Corden believe in me and they wanted me to be this character. I’m here for a reason, so I’m just gonna believe in that and have a good time.

Did you also have a real movie star moment, where you felt like you really owned that, when you were on these extravagant sets, in these costumes, and working alongside Pierce Brosnan? Did you feel the movie magic, in that way?

CABELLO: I feel like because it was my first movie, it was obviously really, really thrilling. And also, you don’t wanna feel like that, when you’re making a movie. You wanna feel grounded and present and not psych yourself out too much. I tried to just keep it as chill as I could, which is hard when there’s Pierce Brosnan in there, but I tried.

In a lot of ways, your own life journey feels like a real Cinderella story. Do you feel that way? Have you really felt a sense of that?

CABELLO: I definitely feel that. I feel like my story is a total Cinderella story. My life changed so much. I was just in Miami, with no connections, really, to anybody in the music industry. And one day, I auditioned for X-Factor and my life changed, and my life keeps changing. I definitely have been like the underdog, for sure, many times, so I totally relate to that story.

What’s it like to go from being that underdog to seeing how you inspire other young people?

CABELLO: It’s amazing. I just feel super lucky that life worked out that way. There’s just a lot of gratitude. There were a lot of really fortunate events happening.

A lot of actors talk about not wanting to watch their own performances, and you’ve said that you don’t like to listen to your own songs. How hard is it to then watch a movie that you’re acting, singing and dancing? Is that even more difficult to watch?

CABELLO: Totally. It’s very difficult. I had a lot of fun watching it because I was watching it with my castmates and my director, and we formed a little family together. And my acting coach, Anthony Meindl, was there too, so it was fun to enjoy that with the people that I made the film with, but it is, by no means, fun to watch yourself from all of these super up-close angles.

What is the strangest or most memorable place you’ve been, when you’ve heard one of your own songs start playing?

CABELLO: Hmm. I don’t know. There hasn’t really been any weird places. Out of people’s cars, on the street, is really interesting.

You’ve never been in an elevator with other people, when your own music has come on?

CABELLO: No. That would be terrible.

It’s hard to know how to handle a fame until you’re in it. What has most surprised you about yourself, having had the spotlight shown on you for some time now?

CABELLO: Honestly, how much that is not really the fulfilling or meaningful part of what I do. Even though it might look like it because that’s the part that most people see, the behind the scenes of making the music and the people that I make it with, and also the stuff that has nothing to do with my career at all, is really fulfilling and meaningful. The actual fame part is not really a big thing that I think about.

Has it taught you anything about your own strength that you didn’t expect to realize?

CABELLO: As I get older, I my sense of self gets stronger and stronger. I’m really lucky that I have an amazing family and amazing parents. My mom has been with me for a lot of this, so I never really lost myself in that, which is more of a testament to the people around me.

You have great comedic timing that seems very natural, which is not necessarily an easy thing to pull off. Do you feel that not taking yourself too seriously helps you with just jumping in and finding the comedy?

CABELLO: Totally. Hopefully, I’ll do more comedy. I think it’ll get easier and easier. Obviously, I really cared about, and care about, this film, so I wanted to do a good job. But I think that, at my best, I am pretty funny.

You’re definitely a powerhouse, in your own right, but what’s it like to get to duet with someone like Idina Menzel? As a singer, when you’re told that you’re going to be belting it out with her, is it intimidating or is it fun and exciting?

CABELLO: It’s so fun and exciting. I love her. Obviously, she’s so talented, but also I feel like we’ve connected so much during this whole process that it was just really fun.

Had you ever found yourself belting out any of her songs, before doing this?

CABELLO: Of course. “Into the Unknown and “Defying Gravity” are some of my favorite songs.

I especially enjoyed the big musical performances in this, at the beginning and the end, with “Rhythm Nation” and “Let’s Get Loud.” Both of those are songs that just make you want to get up and dance and sing along. Do you have songs that do that for you? Is there a song you always put on when you want to dance around the house?

CABELLO: Yeah. Tight now I’m listening to a lot of Reggaeton and a lot of J Balvin, a lot of Bad Bunny, and a lot of Rosalia. That always makes me want to dance around.

How much fun was it to get to do the big performance numbers, with all of the staging? What would surprise people about what it takes to pull off something like that?

CABELLO: It’s amazing. That last finale number and that week was a real movie magic moment. It just felt very like, “Oh, my God!” The best part of a live musical is having a huge ensemble singing and dancing and doing this amazing choreography. It was a lot of rehearsals, after set days and between set days. It was definitely a lot of work, but it was a lot of fun.

If we got a glimpse into the blooper reel for this movie, what kind of things would we see?

CABELLO: You would probably see a lot of unprofessional laughter. It’s hard for me to say anything specific on the spot right now, but a lot of the moments with the comedians, like James Acaster, Romesh [Ranganathan], James Corden and Rob Beckett, were really funny.

Your Cinderella is a fashion designer and has a great sense of style. Are you the same way? Have you always had a great sense of style, or are there fashion disasters in your past that you wish you could forget and that you wish didn’t live on social media now?

CABELLO: I’ve definitely had a lot of fashion disasters because I started doing this at 15, which is crazy. I’ve gotten more of a sense of style, as I’ve gotten older. Now, I just find it a lot more fun than I used to before. It was like a chore to me. I didn’t get joy from it, but now I really do. So, I relate to her more, in that sense.

I love that this is also a Cinderella who doesn’t change who she is or give up her life for a prince. How important was that to you? Is that something that you had conversations about and that really mattered?

CABELLO: Yeah, that was one of the things I loved about the script. She’s not really giving up her life for the prince because she knows that she would just be unhappy. She wouldn’t be able to be herself. At the end of the day, you wanna be in a relationship with somebody where you can be yourself. You don’t have to give up a part of you for them. So, that was one of my favorite parts of the script. I think she’s a real bad-ass for that.

One of the things that doesn’t change with the story of Cinderella is that you still get to wear a gorgeous ballgown and have glass slippers. What did you think of her look for the ball and getting to put on that incredible gown?

CABELLO: It was awesome. Ellen Mirojnick (the costume designer) did such an amazing job with that iridescent, non-traditional version of the Cinderella gown and the slippers. I loved it. It was gorgeous.

Was there a scene that was the most technical to do?

CABELLO: There was the running scene that we had to do, over and over again. That definitely required a lot of endurance because I was just running, all day. That was definitely a little hard.

Was there a most fun day on set?

CABELLO: There were different most fun days. The day with Billy [Porter], doing the Fab G sequence was super fun and magical. And also the finale was really fun. The last song was super fun.

You’ve said that you don’t know if you could have done this with anyone other than Kay Cannon. What was it about her and her vision? What was it like to really establish that collaborative and creative relationship together?

CABELLO: I feel so fortunate. Any other person that I work with now, it’s gonna be such a high bar because she’s just such a great person and an amazing collaborator. She’s so passionate and such a good person. I think that shows in the script, her emotional awareness, her sensitivity, and her desire to stand up for people and give people a voice. She’s like the character. She’s like Cinderella. She’s a bad-ass.

What do you remember about the first day on set and shooting the first scene you had, and how did that compare to the last day that you had on set and doing the last scene for the movie?

CABELLO: The first day, I was insanely nervous. I was so nervous. And the last day, I was not. The last day, I was just having so much fun. At that point, I was just like, “This has been the best experience ever,” and I wasn’t nervous anymore.

Now that you’ve had this experience, where would you like to take your acting career next? Are you already reading a lot of scripts? Have you thought about the type of things you’d like to do?

CABELLO: I haven’t because I went into making my album after the movie. But I would love to do more acting roles, for sure.

Is there dream project, a specific genre, or a character that you’d like to play?

CABELLO: I literally couldn’t tell you. I’d love to do more comedy. I think drama would be really fun. Action would be really fun. Thriller would be really fun. There’s so much. There’s a lot there to explore it.

Cinderella is available to stream at Amazon Prime Video.

#camila cabello #cinderella

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years

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A Night to Remember (Part 1)

A/N #1: It is finally here! The Celestial Ball fic!!! 23 pages total, hence why I divided it into two parts and will also insert text dividers so that if you can’t read it in one shot, you can easily find where you were. Here are the other fics in the series: You’ve Got a Friend in Me | Distraction | Something There | One Step Closer | Fashion Emergency | Get Your Head in the Game | Der Walzer von Alice | Of Quidditch and Ballgowns | From Paris, with Love

There was only one day left before the Celestial Ball. The last exam before the Winter Break had been less than a week ago, so everyone was busy preparing for the ball. Alice and her friends were helping Penny complete the decorations in the Great Hall. Many students could be seen running around Hogwarts as they tried to finalize their ball outfits or tried desperately to find dates.

“Why is everyone so desperate to find a date?” asked Alice as she handed Penny a star.

“Because it’s way more fun to go to a ball with a date,” explained Penny, as she hung the star.

“Really? But it looks so stressful to try to get one. If it weren’t for the fact that prefects are the first ones to dance, I would just have gone with all you guys. Do you have a date for the ball, Penny?”

“I was so busy with the decorations committee that I just asked Andre,” she replied, hanging another star.

“Thanks a lot, Haywood. Now I feel really special,” shouted Andre, near the ceiling on his broom, hanging decorations.

“Come on! You said yes because you don’t have the guts to ask the Hufflepuff seeker to the ball,” replied Penny, acting fakely offended.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Andre before flying to another section of the Great Hall.

“What are you talking about?” asked Alice, handing her friend a big moon.

“Andre has a thing for Artemon Spooner, Hufflepuff’s Seeker. Another player told me that, when they practice together, they spend most of their time flirting with each other,” replied Penny.

“Why would a Keeper practice with a Seeker?” asked Alice, looking at Andre before bringing her attention back to Penny.

“Excellent question! Probably why nearly all Quidditch players know about the crush they have on each other,” said Penny, rubbing her chin.

“But why don’t they just admit it to each other?” asked Alice.

Penny stared at her as Alice looked back with her wide eyes. “Well, sometimes, it’s not that simple. Fear of rejection plays a huge part in whether you are willing to reveal your feelings to someone or not.”

“But… They flirt with each other. So… Isn’t it obvious they have a thing for one another?” asked Alice, scratching her head.

“Oh, some people can be oblivious to that. Believe me, I’ve seen it,” said Penny, looking back at her friend with a small smile.

“Really? When?” asked Alice, but before Penny could say anything, Charlie ran up to them.

“Alice, it’s time for our last dance practice,” said Charlie, pointing at his watch.

With that, Alice and Charlie walked out of the Great Hall together. Penny looked at them leave, a small smile gracing her features. “Merlin, she’s oblivious,” she whispered as she shook her head.

In the evening, when Alice finally returned to her dorm, the first thing she saw was Rowan looking mortified. She turned to see what was causing her friend such distress.

“Tulip!” she exclaimed, looking at the red-haired Ravenclaw.

“What?” asked Tulip as she poured something in a small cauldron on her bed.

“What are you doing?” asked Alice.

“A face mask mixture! I heard some girls talking about face masks to have smooth skins, so I figured it’d be fun to try one before the ball.”

“Hum… Since when have you been so… girly?” asked Alice, raising her eyebrows.

“She omitted to tell you her main ingredient,” pointed out Badeea, who was busy sketching on her bed.

“It’s dungbombs…” whispered Rowan, still staring at Tulip.

“Of course it is… Tulip, do you want to repeat the dungbomb incident of last year?” asked Alice.

“Well… It was technically this year, since we are still in 1988,” pointed out Tulip, adding another ingredient to her cauldron.

“Tulip…” grumbled Alice. “I covered your arse last time. I don’t think Flitwick would believe me if I told him you had an ‘accident’ again.”

“Ugh, fine, fine! I guess we won’t have soft skins then,” she said as she opened a window, dropping the content of her cauldron outside.

“Wait! Don’t!” shouted her three roommates, all running towards the window.

They heard a splash followed by a scream. They slowly looked out the window. All the way down on the ground was Filch, covered in Tulip’s mixture. They all quickly took a step back before he had a chance to look up.

“Tulip, slowly close the window,” whispered Alice. “Rowan, scourgify Tulip’s cauldron and hide it.”

“She can put it in my trunk,” said Tulip as she closed the window.

“Hide it from Tulip,” specified Alice. “We don’t want her to make our dorm stink or explode before the ball.”

“I just love how you trust me,” said Tulip.

“What can I do?” asked Badeea.

“Hum… Oh! You can sketch our alibi! Just draw Rowan reading and Tulip playing with her dungbombs.”

“What about you?”

“Well, I arrived moments before the incident, so having a full sketch of me doing something wouldn’t be very credible. So just a vague shape on my bed.”

“Alice, don’t you think it’s a bit much? It’s not like we are trying to get away with murder,” said Rowan.

“It’s Filch. He’s going to look for a culprit. He probably knows it came from the Ravenclaw tower. Which Ravenclaw do you think he’ll suspect?”

“What can I say? He’s so fun to mess with,” said Tulip, shrugging.

Alice sat on her bed, massaging her temples. “I swear, Tulip… I have enough stress as it is with the ball fast approaching, I really don’t need the extra stress of Filch conducting an investigation.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be nice until this is all over. I think I’ll be able to stay out of trouble for one day,” conceded Tulip.

“What about Winter Break?” asked Badeea.

“Oh, I’ll get to annoy my parents back home, so it’s all good.”

Rowan stared at Tulip before turning back to Alice. “Why are you stressed? Your dress is ready; you have every element for your outfit, you have someone to dance with… Oh!”

“Yeah… I will be dancing in front of everyone. Everyone will be staring. One false move, and I can already hear Merula laugh.”

“Why do you care so much about what Merula thinks?” asked Badeea

“I don’t really care about what she thinks, but she’s been a thorn in my side since our first day at Hogwarts. If I screw up, she won’t just think I suck; she’ll keep bringing it up, which is so annoying. There are days where I wish I could just cast Silencio on her,” explained Alice.

“Alice?” said Tulip.

“Hmm?”

“If Merula is an arse during the ball, can I use a dungbomb on her?”

“You have my blessing.”

“You sound like the Godfather,” remarked Badeea.

Alice looked at her before realizing what she was referring to. “Should I make her kiss my ring?” she said before laughing.

“Your godfather makes people kiss his ring?” asked Rowan.

“And he asks people to use dungbombs?” asked Tulip.

The next morning, the Great Hall was abuzz with conversations about the ball. At the Ravenclaw table, Andre was busy suggesting various hairstyles to Alice.

“What about Audrey Hepburn’s hairstyle at the beginning of Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

“Too much,” replied Alice between two bites of toast as Barnaby sat next to Andre.

“What’s going on?” asked the Slytherin.

“Andre is suggesting hairstyles for tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you have enough hair to make that hairstyle,” said Barnaby as he looked at a picture and then at Andre.

“It’s not for me! It’s for Alice,” replied Andre, letting out a sigh.

“I like Alice’s hair right now,” said Barnaby, looking at Alice with a smile.

“But it’s too plain! We need something amazing!”

Alice narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, Andre. But honestly, I don’t want a hairstyle that is too over the top. The dress is already dazzling, not to mention the hair accessory I have…”

“But…”

“Andre. I won’t be a contestant in a beauty pageant. I don’t need to outshine everyone. I just want to look good for myself. I want to be able to recognize myself in the mirror,” pleaded Alice.

“Alright, alright. Anyway, with the outfit I’ve put together for you, you’ll outshine everyone.”

“I have a question,” said Barnaby.

“Yes?” said Alice, turning her attention to her Slytherin friend.

“Where can I get a buccaneer?”

“A buccaneer?” repeated Alice, taken aback.

“In the Caribbean, about two, three centuries ago,” answered Andre. “Why?”

“Well, I heard Merula and Ismelda talking about it last night in the common room. Merula said her date better have one,” said Barnaby pensively.

“Kinky,” mumbled Andre, stifling a laugh.

“Did Merula say anything else about the… buccaneer?”

“Well, she did say she hopes the flowers won’t clash with her dress.”

At the mention of flowers, both Alice’s and Andre’s eyes lit up.

“Ah!” exclaimed Andre.

“A boutonnière!” said Alice.

“Showing off your French, Beaumont?” snickered Andre.

“Shut up,” mumbled Alice.

“Wait, isn’t it what I said?” asked Barnaby, rubbing his chin.

“Not exactly… Anyway, a boutonnière is a single flower you wear on the lapel of your suit. So I guess you could go see Professor Sprout for one,” explained Alice.

“But it’s really not necessary. I wasn’t planning on wearing one, and Charlie’s suit doesn’t have any lapel…”

“Oh! Speaking of Charlie’s outfit…” started Alice, her curiosity piqued.

“Tonight,” replied Andre.

“Awww, come on! All he told me was ‘Dragons!’ I’m starting to imagine a suit covered in little dragons.”

“That sounds so cool!” exclaimed Barnaby, resulting in Andre staring at him.

“You know I would never do that,” said Andre as he kept glancing at Barnaby.

“Could you cover mine in bowtruckles? No, wait, puffskeins! Oh, oh, no, even better…” said Barnaby, visibly excited at the idea of a dress robe covered in magical creatures.

“No! Your dress robes shouldn’t look like a 5-year-old’s pyjamas!”

“Aww, come on, Andre, at least give him a little embroidery,” said Alice, drinking her tea.

“Ugh, fine… Can I go to Paris this summer?”

“Only if you shut up about you-know-what,” replied Alice, not looking up from her cup.

“Could you make me some PJs with all the creatures after?” asked Barnaby as he got up.

“We’ll see. Alice, think about your hair and your makeup while I’m busy with the man-child,” said Andre before following Barnaby.

“Be nice!” shouted Alice at him, smiling before taking another sip.

Back in her dorm after breakfast, she stood in front of the mirror, playing with her hair and the tiara her grandmother had given her. She tried various hairstyles, holding her hair up, then half-up-half-down, her tiara at the top of her head, then at the back. She sighed and dropped on her bed, her face in her pillow.

“UGH!!!” she let out, the pillow muffling the sound of her exasperation.

“Are you ok, Alice?” asked Badee in a soft voice.

Alice looked up from her pillow. “Uh? Oh! How long have you been here?”

“I just came in,” answered Badeea, sitting at the edge of Alice’s bed. “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to figure out a hairstyle for tomorrow that goes with this,” said Alice, pointing at the tiara on her nightstand.

“Oh! It’s lovely!” exclaimed Badeea, delicately picking it up and observing its details. “The craftsmanship is amazing. Did Andre make this?”

“Hum… No… It was a… family friend,” replied Alice, unconvinced by her lie.

“I see,” said Badeea, a small smile appearing on her face as she glanced at Alice. “So, what kind of hairstyle are you going for?”

“Something simple. I don’t want to look like a wedding cake topper.”

“What about… a braid, going around the back of your head?” suggested Badeea.

“Like a milkmaid braid? Sorry, but I forgot my dirndl at home,” replied Alice, raising her eyebrows.

“No, no. Not a milkmaid braid. I was thinking more of taking parts of the hair at the side of your face and braiding them towards the back of your head until both met. Your tiara could go just underneath.”

Alice stared at her for a few seconds before jumping out of her bed and hugging her. “That’s brilliant!”

Startled by the hug, Badeea was rendered speechless. It was extremely rare for Alice to initiate physical contacts. She slowly tapped Alice’s back before the latter took a step back.

“You think you could make a quick sketch for Andre? It doesn’t have to be super detailed, just for him to understand the idea,” said Alice.

Badeea simply nodded as she watched her friend, who said a quick thank you, run out of the dorm.

As she ran down a corridor, smiling brightly, Alice bumped into Andre, who was coming back from the Slytherin common room.

“You look like you are in a hurry. Your cheeks are all flushed! Actually kinda looks good on you,” noticed Andre, staring at his friend.

“There you are,” said Alice, ignoring his remark. “Badeea came up with a brilliant hairstyle for tomorrow! Taking the hair at the side of my face and braiding them towards the back, like a braid crown, but only at the back, and we could place my tiara right underneath it! She’s going to make a sketch so you can see,” she said as she started to drag Andre in the direction she came from.

Andre stopped her in her tracks. “Woah, slow down there, Alice. Breath in, breath out. Now, I’m glad you figured out your hairstyle, but what about makeup?”

“Make… Up… Awww, great. I forgot about that… Well, I can already tell you that I don’t want to look like Cyndi Lauper. Her music is rad, but her overall look is a bit too over the top for me,” said Alice as she crossed her arms, leaning against a wall.

“Oi! I could make some suggestions,” said Tonks, who’s head popped up from behind Andre.

“No! After the Camden incident, I want your makeup ‘skills’ to stay as far away from me as possible,” exclaimed Alice, terrified at the prospect of Tonks applying her makeup.

“Do I wanna know?” asked Andre, looking between the two girls.

“Nah, just that little Miss Sloane Ranger here doesn’t like edgy makeup,” replied Tonks, doing her best not to laugh at Alice’s face.

“Edgy? I looked like a panda! So did you, for that matter,” said Alice with a huff.

“Sloane Ranger?” said Andre, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Tonks.

“Yeah… Think Lady Diana, Princess of Wales,” summarized Alice.

“Oh… Oh!” exclaimed Andre, his eyes lightening up.

“What?” asked Alice, furrowing her brows as she looked at her friend.

But before she could say anything else, Andre had grabbed her wrist and had started running towards the Ravenclaw common room, leaving Tonks behind. Once inside, he dragged her to his dorm.

“Oi! Egwu! What’s going on? Why did you drag me all the way here? Am I even allowed to be here?” asked Alice, looking around the boys’ dorm.

“Yeah, you are,” said Andre as he started to rummage through his trunk. “Guys are not allowed in the girls’ dorm, but girls are allowed in our dorm.”

“Could you two keep it down?” said a voice behind them.

Alice turned around to see Talbott staring at them from behind his book. “Oh, sorry, Talbott. Didn’t see you there.”

“No wonder. You stormed into here,” grunted Talbott.

“I thought you would be hanging in the owlery like you always do,” said Andre, barely paying attention to his roommate.

“The owlery is too busy, people sending thank you notes to their families for the stuff they sent for the ball,” explained Talbott, his attention back to his book.

“Oh, are you going to the ball, Talbott?” asked Alice.

“Nah, I avoid crowds,” replied Talbott.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Alice, a light pout appearing on her lips.

“Let him be…” said Andre, suddenly raising a magazine above his head triumphantly. “There! Found it!”

“What?”

“Your makeup inspiration! Princess Diana at Canne last year!” said Andre, shoving the picture in her face.

Alice took a step back to have a better look at the picture. “Oh! How lovely! It looks really natural and timeless. I love it! But maybe not the blue eyeliner I’m kinda seeing…”

“Don’t worry; blue wouldn’t go with your green eyes. I was actually thinking of forgoing the eyeliner, and simply go for blush and mascara, and perhaps a natural shade of lipstick.”

“There’s just one problem… I don’t have any makeup with me.”

“Mmm… I might know where we can get some… To the Hufflepuff common room!!!”

“Penny!” exclaimed Andre, standing beside Penny, quietly reading while her face was covered with a clay mask.

“AH!” screamed Penny, making her mask crack. “Ugh! Look what you’ve done! I’ll have to start all over again.”

“As if you needed a clay mask… We need your help, Penny. We finally figured out a makeup style for Alice, but we don’t have any makeup!”

“How the hell did we get in here…” mumbled Alice, looking around.

“What do you need?” asked Penny.

“Blush and mascara.”

“I can do the blush, but sharing mascara is very unhygienic.”

“We could use Scourgify on the brush?” suggested Alice.

“Every time I dip the brush in, I contaminate the product, so even if you clean the brush, it’s pointless.”

“Don’t you have a spare?” asked Andre.

“Well, I do, but…”

“Please! It’s for Alice’s big night. She’ll be dancing in front of a huge crowd with, you know, Charlie,” said Andre, winking.

“Huh? Oh!” exclaimed Penny, suddenly realizing what Andre was hinting at. Tonight might be the night the Dragon Boy and the Curse-Breaker would confess to one another. “Alright, you can have it. I’ll just go and fetch it.”

“Thanks for reminding me of the huge crowd…” grumbled Alice.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ll be in the arms of Charlie Weasley, dancing to the sound of a waltz, in your own little world,” daydreamed Andre.

“All that’s missing is an evil step-mother, and we’d have a fairytale,” said Alice, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, Alice, where is your sense of romance?” asked Andre, letting out a sigh as he looked at his hopeless friend.

“Andre, I don’t have time for romance. I have to protect you guys from ‘R,’ whoever that is, and I have to find the portrait vault. Romance would just be a distraction. Anyway, who would be interested in a danger magnet like me?”

Andre stared at his friend, letting out another sigh. Everyone could see how much Charlie was smitten with her, except her. “Fine, fine. Why don’t you go and eat lunch? It’s going to be makeover time after lunch!”

“Why am I afraid?” said Alice as she left the Hufflepuff common room, just as Penny arrived with the makeup.

“There! Alice will look like a fairytale princess for the big confession.”

Andre didn’t say anything as Penny handed him the blush and mascara. He just kept staring at the now-closed door of Hufflepuff’s common room.

A/N #2: That’s it for Part 1! Part 2 is HERE! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought in the comments! (Kinda fit this challenge’s “Ball” prompt...) Oh, and what are your thoughts on the text divider?

#hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #jacob’s sibling #alice beaumont #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x alice beaumont #charlie weasley x mc #andre egwu #barnaby lee #penny haywood #talbott winger #badeea ali #tulip karasu #rowan khanna #nymphadora tonks #hphm #hogwarts mystery

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tessandscottforever18 · 3 years

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Sept 12

Camila Cabello on the Responsibility of Playing ‘Cinderella’ and Updating the Classic Story

In a lot of ways, your own life journey feels like a real Cinderella story. Do you feel that way? Have you really felt a sense of that?

What’s it like to go from being that underdog to seeing how you inspire other young people?

CABELLO: It’s amazing. I just feel super lucky that life worked out that way. There’s just a lot of gratitude. There were a lot of really fortunate events happening.

What is the strangest or most memorable place you’ve been, when you’ve heard one of your own songs start playing?

CABELLO: Hmm. I don’t know. There hasn’t really been any weird places. Out of people’s cars, on the street, is really interesting.

You’ve never been in an elevator with other people, when your own music has come on?

CABELLO: No. That would be terrible.

It’s hard to know how to handle a fame until you’re in it.

What has most surprised you about yourself, having had the spotlight shown on you for some time now?

Has it taught you anything about your own strength that you didn’t expect to realize?

CABELLO: It’s so fun and exciting. I love her. Obviously, she’s so talented, but also I feel like we’ve connected so much during this whole process that it was just really fun.

Had you ever found yourself belting out any of her songs, before doing this?

CABELLO: Of course. “Into the Unknown and “Defying Gravity” are some of my favorite songs.

CABELLO: Yeah. Tight now I’m listening to a lot of Reggaeton and a lot of J Balvin, a lot of Bad Bunny, and a lot of Rosalia. That always makes me want to dance around.

How much fun was it to get to do the big performance numbers, with all of the staging? What would surprise people about what it takes to pull off something like that?

If we got a glimpse into the blooper reel for this movie, what kind of things would we see?

Was there a scene that was the most technical to do?

CABELLO: There was the running scene that we had to do, over and over again. That definitely required a lot of endurance because I was just running, all day. That was definitely a little hard.

Was there a most fun day on set?

CABELLO: There were different most fun days. The day with Billy [Porter], doing the Fab G sequence was super fun and magical. And also the finale was really fun. The last song was super fun.

What do you remember about the first day on set and shooting the first scene you had, and how did that compare to the last day that you had on set and doing the last scene for the movie?

Now that you’ve had this experience, where would you like to take your acting career next? Are you already reading a lot of scripts? Have you thought about the type of things you’d like to do?

CABELLO: I haven’t because I went into making my album after the movie. But I would love to do more acting roles, for sure.

Is there dream project, a specific genre, or a character that you’d like to play?

#camila cabello #cinderella #cinderella promo #collider #interview: collider

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siriusmuch · 4 years

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Friday I’m In Love | Chapter Six

series masterlist here

word count: 3k!!!

warnings: this chapter could potentially be triggering, it hints towards abuse. there’s nothing described or anything of the sort, but please be safe!

taglist: @interestingthingsthings@siriuslysirius1107@scaredofvscogirls @lizlil @themihala@mainstreambitchlife @phenylethyllamine @jellyfishbeansontoast @accio-rogers @blackpinkdolan @nickangel13 @witchywrter @tomshollandz please message me or send an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! if you didn’t receive a notification, it’s because i can’t tag you.

a/n: sorry about being gone for a whole month without posting a new chapter! anyway, you’re in a huge ride in this chapter. hopefully i can get chapters out at least once a week after this! :)

Things changed after the conversation. Slowly, your new normal included hanging out with the Marauders, much to the dislike of most Slytherins in your house. Regulus didn’t comment on it, although you knew he was hurt. After all, he had supported you all along, and you were practically running back to his brother.

You wanted to reassure him that its wasn’t like that, because it really wasn’t. No matter how much you loved Sirius, you were doing your damn best to get over him, and for good this time. You had more friends, and better ones. You spent your meals with Regulus, usually splitting seating in classes between him and Severus. After classes, you did your studying with Remus before hanging out with Regulus or the Marauders.

You had wanted this for so long, and you plunged into it without any self-control.

The rest of November passed quickly, and as December slowly went by, you got increasingly nervous about heading home. Your parents hadn’t sent out any howlers, which you appreciated, but you knew they were watching. And you knew that you’d have hell to face when you got home.

Even with that thought hung above your head, nothing could bring your mood down. For the first time, it felt like you could truly appreciate Hogwarts like every other student.

“Are you guys heading home for Christmas?” You brought up, sitting in the Gryffindor common room. You knew the other Gryffindors were giving you weird looks, but no Gryffindor would mess with you while the Marauders were around.

“I’m heading to James’,” Sirius told you, and you nodded.

“I think my parents want to travel before things get any worse in the wizarding world,” Peter shared, and you smiled.

“I’m heading home, but I’ll probably be around James’ a bunch. What are you planning to do?” Remus asked. You shrugged, feeling the sinking feeling that you felt whenever your mind drifted to your family. You wished you had an escape, but you didn’t. Not like Sirius did, at least. It was going to be your first ever Christmas without your sister, and the thought of that was something you hadn’t truly processed yet.

“I’ll probably see Regulus a lot. My parents told me they’re hosting another party, so I might end up seeing Mulciber, maybe Severus and Malfoy too. A lot of the Black family, really. My parents adore them,” you sighed, “but I’ll have Regulus around, so it won’t be terrible. Merlin knows he’s the only Black I tolerate,” you joked.

“Very funny, (Y/L/N),” Sirius deadpanned.

“You’re going to be alright though, yeah?” Peter asked, and you shrugged.

“I hope so…” you trailed off, not wanting to share just how bad your family was. You were strong, and you could handle another Christmas with them. And then it’ll be back to Hogwarts, where you’d be safe.

You arrived at King’s Cross quicker than you would’ve liked, but a train ride spent with Regulus was a time well spent. You could practically feel his mood shifting as he prepared himself to see his family. Both of you started slipping into your personas of being the perfect child, and before you got off the train, you gave him a tight hug.

“I’ll see you soon, I hope. Write to me often, Reg, you know your letters get me through this.” He smiled at you one final time, and you kissed him on the cheek before getting off the train to face your parents. They had written you to tell you that they’d meet you at the station, and you were hoping they wouldn’t. Any moment spent away from them was a blessing.

Once you exited the train, it was easy to find your parents. They were talking with the Blacks, and you could see the Marauders from a distance away. You were able to meet eyes with Sirius, and you gave him the tiniest of waves before turning to face your parents.

“Mother, father,” you greeted simply. They turned to meet your eyes, and your mother opened her arms for a hug. You didn’t have any choice but to pretend — that was all this was. A game of pretend, a game of dolls, a game of house and the perfect pureblooded family.

“It’s good to see you again, my sweet,” your mother said, but you could hear the coldness of her voice. Walburga and Orion looked at you with fake pitiful smiles, and you knew. You knew that whatever you’d face with this break would be terrible.

Letting you go, you took a few steps back before turning to the Blacks. “Hello.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could spot the Marauders looking over at you, and a lurch in your chest told you that you’d rather be with them. From behind you, Regulus finally joined you — you wondered where he went, although you wouldn’t ask till later.

“Hello, Miss (Y/L/N) and Mister (Y/L/N), and hi, (Y/N).” You smiled at him, relieved to be around someone you could tolerate, but also worried. Although your parents had a strong friendship with the Blacks, you wondered what would be so important that they’d be waiting for the both of you together.

“(Y/N), Walburga, Orion, and Regulus are going to be staying with us. We’ll be hosting the party the day after tomorrow, and there will be important news announced. You are to be on your best behavior, understand?” You nodded. “Good,” your mother brushed her thumb against your cheek, and you willed yourself not to flinch. Taking a look at Regulus, he shrugged, and you inwardly sighed. Whatever your parents had prepared, it wouldn’t be good.

“What do you think they’re planning?” You wondered, laying in Regulus’ lap. It was the day of the party, and the house had been chaotic for the past few days, everyone frantic to throw the perfect party to welcome the beloved heirs home. On the bright side, with the Black family here, your parents hadn’t tried talking to you about how you were acting up in school.

“No clue, but I think it involved both of us. Why else would we be staying?” You looked up at him, his eyes peering down at you. “And as comfortable as we both are, we need to get ready soon.”

“Right he is!” Your mother chimed as she opened the door. She looked pleased as she took in the position that you and Regulus were in, but turned to face Regulus. “You should get going, sweetheart, your mother is waiting for you in your room.”

You wished Regulus didn’t have to leave so that you didn’t have to be with your mother alone, but you didn’t protest. Watching as he left the room and closed the door, you turned to face your mother, who was rummaging through your (rather big) closet. “As you know, I’ve been preparing for this party for a while, and we’re so very lucky to have the Blacks on board. I thought things would’ve been complicated after Sirius turned out the way he did…” Your mother pulled out a dress before making a look of disgust, continuing to flick through the clothes.

“But we’re happy that things have worked out. You get along well with Regulus, right?” You nodded, brushing through your hair. Your mother felt the littlest bit motherly, and you indulged yourself in it, at least until it would get worse. “Good, good. I was worried that things wouldn’t work out after your little act at school, even though I know you’re still hanging around Gryffindors. At least two of them are pureblooded, even if they’re blood traitors.” You rolled your eyes. So much for that.

“Besides the point. We’re expecting a lot of you when you return to school. I know what we did over the summer had scared you, but it’s showing you reality. You’re one of us, now, my sweet. Anything you do now reflects on that, and I just don’t want you to get into trouble. Your father wishes the same, even if he never shares that.” Finally, your mother pulled out a green ballgown, one that was strapless and had a slit to show off your leg. There weren’t any sleeves, and you knew you couldn’t get away with wearing something over your arm either.

The Dark Mark sits on your arm, a painful reminder of just how deep you succumbed.

“I know it was early for you to get the mark, but we had to prove your worth. You’re already part of the sacred twenty-nine, and with Sirius turning out to be the way he is, we had to do something. There’s no doubt that Regulus will have to too.” Once you got changed, your mother pulled you to your vanity so she could do your hair. “I would’ve preferred you get the Dark Mark in your last year. But what’s done is done, and we can’t dwell on that.”

Every minute you spent with your mother felt like it’d never end, but by the end of her dolling you up, you looked like how you did for every other party. Except this time, your mother pulled out a thin long box, and you raised your eyebrows.

“This is my necklace. It’s been passed down for generations, but you’re growing up now. I want you to have it. It’ll show that you’re truly a (Y/L/N) now.” You nodded, and your mother clipped it on, making sure to not get your hair in the way. “I love you, my sweet. You’ve never looked as beautiful and mature as you do now.” Your heart clenched a tiny bit, and you willed yourself not to cry. There was something about this moment that felt different than the other ones you shared with your parents, and no matter how much you hated them for what they’d put you through, you felt as if they loved you.

“Thank you,” you said, “The party is starting soon, right? You should head downstairs, I’ll be down in a bit.”

Your mother gave you a kiss on your forehead, and you watched as she left. She felt so much like a mother, and you wished it was like this all the time. Even if she got on your nerves by sprouting some stuff about the Gryffindors, you knew that you’d pick this over the regular relationship you had with your parents any day. You wished your sister was here to see you now.

The mark on your arm throbbed again, and you sighed. It was time to go to the party.

The ballroom was filled with people, most of which you recognized were avid Voldemort supporters or pureblooded. Looking around for Regulus, you noted that you could see Mulciber chatting someone up. Someone was playing piano, and all the tables were filled with food. This had to be the grandest party yet.

Finally spotting Regulus, you hurried over to him. “Reg! You look good,” you smiled. It was true; he looked more dressed up than he normally would be. You noted that his bowtie was the same shade of green you were wearing. Seeing a small blush on his face, you chuckled.

“You look nice, too. Green’s a pretty color on you, but I’m sure you already know that.” You laughed, opening your mouth to speak before effectively getting cut off by your father’s booming voice.

“Thank you all for joining today, as we have very pleasing news. About a decade ago, the Blacks and us had made an arrangement to marry off our first borns.” You turned to face Regulus in shock only to note that his face was the same. “Unfortunately, the Blacks’ first born turned out to be a blood traitor and as you know, this summer, my firstborn had passed away. Therefore, the Blacks and I have been talking, and we had agreed that Regulus and (Y/N) would be a far better match. Their chemistry is undeniable, and their wedding is going to happen as soon as they turn of age. This is our formal invite to everyone in this room. Congratulations, Regulus, (Y/N).” Your father stopped speaking, but at this point, you didn’t know what to say.

An arranged marriage? With Regulus?

It’s true that you and Regulus were close friends, hell, he was probably your closest friend, but you never considered him romantically. But you’d never considered anyone other than Sirius romantically. You didn’t know if you could even indulge in this; sure, Regulus was nice, but he was almost like your little brother. You weakly smiled at all the stares in the room, but didn’t voice any of the thoughts you shared out loud. Instead, you whispered to him, “I’m happy it’s with you out of anyone it could’ve been with. Meet me at my room after the party?”

Regulus agreed, and your only question was how you could possibly deal with this after the party. Would you have to wear engagement rings? There’s no doubt that you couldn’t date anyone anymore, not in public anyway. It’d get back to your parents, and you couldn’t risk that.

And for the first time since meeting the Marauders, you truly realized that you were stuck with nowhere to go.

“I’m sorry this ended up happening,” Regulus whispered. The two of you were sitting in your bedroom, still wearing your party outfits, and you were still reeling from the revelation.

“A decade, Reg. And I bet even if things had worked out differently, we would’ve ended up married anyway. Sirius and my sister, and then you and I. Talk about a union,” you scoffed, leaning into your bed. “What are we going to do at school? Are we going to be… a couple? Actually date?”

“I don’t think we really have a choice other than do that, do we?”

“Ugh…” You stuffed your face into a pillow for a good minute before peeking your head out at Regulus, “This would be so much easier if I was bloody in love with you,” you sighed.

“We could. Actually d-date, I mean. It’d probably be more enjoyable for the both of us than to just pretend.” Regulus nervously spluttered out. You stared at him, thoughts rapidly shifting from one to the next. Could Regulus actually have feelings for you? Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to comprehend this thought. You never considered the possibility that Regulus might have a crush on you, but you never considered a possibility of dating anyone other than Sirius either. And now that Sirius had made it clear he wanted to be friends and nothing more…

Could you imagine spending the rest of your life with Regulus? Waking up to his face, kissing him good morning, joking about his terrible morning breath before he has to leave? Could you imagine pretending that a war wasn’t going on out there, surrounding you, and having your newfound friends fighting for your life? Could you imagine being married to Regulus?

But what you actually said was, “You… have a crush on me, right? I never suspected anything until, well, now. But you know I’m still trying to get over Sirius, and if we did date, I do wish that it would’ve happened naturally instead of like. This.” You gestured with your arms, trying to read what he was feeling. He’d always been hard to read, especially when he grew up in a family just like yours, but he was much easier to read than Sirius.

“I am. I never told you because there wouldn’t have been a chance that you’d like me back, but you’re trying to get over Sirius and even though I’m unhappy that my parents planned this out for us, I’d be a fool to put my all into this relationship without making it clear how I felt. We’re in the same boat, and it’s better now than never.”

“Quite Gryffindor of you to say that,” you joked with a wry smile. “I… can’t say I like you back. If I were to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever considered you to be more than my brother, and I can’t promise you anything else. But we can try and date, and even if it doesn’t work out, we’re still going to be stuck with each other no matter what. There’s nothing stopping that. I can try learn to love you as more, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I know,” Regulus whispered, and he took hold of your hand. “And I’m willing to enter this relationship with just that.”

You smiled warily, but squeezed his hand. You were afraid to hurt him beyond repair. When Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, their relationship had become strained and you were the only person he held close, other than Kreacher. You found their relationship amusing, but never commented upon it.

Maybe you couldn’t have Sirius, and maybe you were stuck in a marriage you didn’t want with in-laws you despised and you lived under the roof with people you frankly wished you didn’t care about, but at least you could try and make your life as good as it could be.

Soon, you’d be back to school. Soon, you’d have to face Sirius and Remus and tell them of your new marriage. Soon, people will know you as Regulus Black’s soon-to-be wife, and soon, you’d end up in a similar position as your sister. Not that you knew that part, though.

#friday i'm in love #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader x remus lupin #regulus black #regulus black x reader #severus snape #journal of joyivos #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders era #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Convince Me To Go {12}

AU Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot

Words: 4.5k

Summary: When we run away, we’re usually running from something. This time you may have run toward it instead.

Note: Welp. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I hope you enjoy this.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Your studies in school you studied many different theories and laws. Some of your favorite were The Butterfly Effect, Chaos theory, and Murphy’s law.

Murphy’s Law says that “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” Case in point, your wedding day. You hadn’t slept a wink, you tossed and turned and even rolled off the bed at one point which resulted in you banging your head on your nightstand table. Your mother had a fit which prompted her to make you have almost every facial treatment at the spa that morning. Her hope was that they would be able to exfoliate and microdermabrasion it all away.

Now at ten in the morning sitting for makeup that bruise was being persistent. No makeup in the world covered it well enough for your mother. So, when the makeup artiste finished while it wasn’t a huge focal you and your mother could still see it. That resulted in almost a thirty-minute tirade from your mother about the importance of your beauty and how things would be jinxed and ruined if you didn’t look like a pristine virgin bride. You tried to tell her that virgin bride hope was long gone, but she didn’t seem to hear.

Next, your hair didn’t want to cooperate for the planned style. Your edges just wouldn’t lay right and after an hour and a half at almost eleven forty-five you stared in the mirror at your coifed hair with dull amusement. You know who wasn’t amused? Your mother. She went on another tirade, this one you didn’t listen to. You simply sat in the “bride” chair and sipped your seventh glass of champagne. You didn’t care that it wasn’t even noon yet.

Next, the lingerie that was picked out for you to wear underneath the dress was delivered and it was all wrong. What was to be nude colored lace that matched your skin complexion was blush. It was pretty but absolutely wrong, compared to your mother. So, you stood around in the blush-colored lingerie, strapless bra, tanga panty, suspender belt, and your garter sipping what else—more champagne. By twelve-twenty there was nothing else to do but continue forward.

The entire time you managed to keep yourself composed and tightly wound. You didn’t mutter a peep or remove the plastic smile that was stapled to your face from the moment you sat up. this marathon was far from over.

Thankfully, your dress was right and as your eight bridesmaids assisted you in getting into the frilly contraption you continued to smile. When you stood in front of the mirror at twelve-forty you almost passed out but not from the pulling and tugging of the laces of your garter back gown or the suffocating way your breasts were hoisted up like you were some eighteenth-century French prostitute, but from the sight of you in the dress. You hadn’t worn it for almost a month and a month ago you felt differently.

You tried to tell your mother that white was unnecessary, but she wouldn’t hear it. you also told her that the ballgown was too much, but she insisted. It was a beautiful gown, one that cost more than most people made in a year and took nine months to make special for you, but it was not you. you could barely recognize yourself. Everyone around you praised you and said you looked gorgeous and Brod would cry when he saw you, but you tuned them out. From the mirror you caught Bree’s expression, she wasn’t smiling nor was she frowning, she had a complacent look as if she were waiting for something. Probably your impending breakdown, you thought.

You were supposed to be at the venue by one forty-five so the ceremony could promptly begin at two. Traffic had other ideas; you were sitting in the elaborate white nineteen thirty-six Rolls Royce limo with your mother as your company. It was bumper to bumper and that was not acceptable to your mother. She proceeded to go on yet another tirade and pestered the driver to hurry up. It was amusing. She didn’t even say anything to you when you popped open the bottle of champagne there. As traffic snailed along you shook your head at yet another thing that had gone wrong.

When the Rolls Royce finally arrived it was almost two. Your entire party had to hurry into the elevators and to the “bride’s chambers” to make final preparations for the ceremony. As everyone bustled around you rushing to make sure everything was as it was to be you sat in your seat and just twirled your new and improved engagement ring. It was never something you’d done. You didn’t have nervous ticks like shaking legs or chewing your bottom lip or fidgeting before. You’d been groomed to always be poised, controlled. Now you had all three.

“Ten minutes everyone. Let’s get our places,” your mother cheerily announced. A knock at the door brought everyone’s attention. In walked your father dressed like the perfect gentleman. His smile was warm as he made a beeline to wrap you in a hug.

“I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” He looked at you for three seconds and turned to everyone.

“Everyone I’d like a moment with my daughter.” Everyone made a move for the door leaving the two of you.

“You’re beautiful, princess.” You smiled.

“No father can ever imagine that there is a man good enough for his baby girl, his only daughter. With Princeton we have it easy, he’s a boy—a man now. You are my princess, my fragile, precious little jewel.” He brushed the back of his hand across your cheek. You smiled.

“You’re different. I can see it. you may be able to hide it from everyone else, but not me. I have always seen you.”

You averted your eyes and sighed.

“I always thought you’d put an end to this thing. I thought you’d come to me and tell me flat out that this was not what you wanted. I thought you’d find the strength, the courage to forge your own path but here we are.”

You studied him and saw that he knew.

“I love your mother more than anything. She’s given me two incredible gifts, you and your brother. I can never thank her enough. She has though turned into someone else over the years. Someone who is completely different than the woman I met. I didn’t love her when I met her or married her. It wasn’t until just before she told me she was pregnant with Princeton that I realized I’d fallen in love with her. It is an unconventional path to take toward love, but we ended up there. Not everyone’s path is the same princess. Grow into love, or Fall into love and grow together. It is all up to you.”

“Daddy, what are you saying?”

“Don’t live your life for your mother, or for me. It is your life. Do what makes your eyes sparkle when you smile, do what makes you feel.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and walked through the door he came. You turned to the mirror and stared at yourself. The breakdown that was steadily approached was so close. You locked the door and pressed your back to it and closed your eyes trying to stave away your panic attack. You ignored the knocks and the rattles of the doorknob. Only when you felt composed enough did you turn it. The first one in was Bree.

“Ready to go?”

You heard the double meaning in her words and nodded your head. You flipped the veil and took your bouquet from her and walked through the door toward where your father stood. When he saw you, a somber smirk spread across his face. You couldn’t tell if it was disappointment on his face or sadness. You bit your bottom lip and breathed out as you stood beside him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?” It sounded like a threat instead of a well-meant question. Glancing at him his smirk was present but he was looking ahead.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He nodded and touched your hand and nodded. Giving Bree one more glance you nodded.

The doors opened and your procession line walked down the aisle to the chosen music, a classical piece chosen by your mother. You snorted and laughed. When you tried to stop you continued and everyone looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Are you okay, princess?” you nodded but continued to laugh.

“I’m sorry. Oh my god.” Through the words, your laughter continued. Every time the doors opened to allow another of the bridesmaid-groomsmen pair to enter the guests heard your boisterous laugh.

“Oh my god. Do you—do you realize mom picked every single thing? Everything. The flowers, mom. The color of the bridesmaids' dresses, mom. The groomsmen tuxes, mom. The shoes, mom. The venue here, mom. The priest, mom. The tux you’re wearing, mom. My dress, mom. My underwear, mom, my hair, my makeup, my life. Mom has picked it all. This is her wedding, this is not my wedding,” you frantically blurted out.

“Nothing involved here I picked. Brodrick, mom picked him. she thought our families would mesh well, she thought our families would be able to dominate together.”

There were two couples before you now, and Bree was staring at you.

“I don’t like anything here.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” You looked at your father’s stern face. He was daring you to grow some balls, daring you to make a decision you wanted. Daring you to live your life.

The doors opened and Bree waited for your signal. You knew she was prepared to get you out of there. You took a deep breath, held it and slowly let it out. The song continued to play, and you knew everyone was growing restless. You could imagine your mother standing there getting nervous.

You looked to Bree and nodded but she didn’t move. She looked to be begging you not to do this. Trying to convince you to go. You nodded again more sternly and she sighed and turned forward and the doors opened allowing her to walk down the aisle. When the doors opened again you were calm. Everyone in the room gasped and awed when you began the walk of your life. You found Broderick at the end of the aisle standing beside his best man Gavin and a smile spread across his face, but there were no tears. You looked to your mother who also had a pleased smile on her face as many whispered to her no doubt telling her how gorgeous you were.

Maybe you could grow to love Broderick, he wasn’t an asshole or a bad guy, he’d always been kind and generous. Maybe you could do just what your parents did. Maybe love was a daydream, maybe it was something impractical and frivolous. Maybe those two days in Boston were just you feeling the stress of today and cold feet. Maybe you really could have a happy life and future with Broderick. Anything was possible, right?

You glanced into the rows of faces; most you didn’t know well. they were there to witness the opulence, the sheer awe of a socialite wedding. You looked up and saw an insane number of flowers just handing from the ceiling and shook your head. This was all too much. None of it felt like you. Now the veil over your face felt claustrophobic, your breasts sitting pretty under your chin felt suffocating, the scent of all the flowers turned from pleasant to putrid, the six-inch heels you wore felt like pins and needles rather than three thousand dollars of comfort. Everything was getting to you, the lights, the falling rose petals from above the flashes of the camera before you cementing every move you made toward your future. A future of doom, you thought. Your steps stopped with the thought. Your mother’s smile stayed where it was, but her eyes were a different story.

Your father leaned to your ear and asked if you were okay. You didn’t respond. You were too busy trying to shake off the feeling of dread you were wrestling with. Slowly you began again and looked from left to right smiling at your guests. They didn’t know you at all, more than half of these people couldn’t say they knew the first thing about you, not even Broderick. That thought made you stop again. You looked down to your ring finger at your engagement ring, your upgrade. You snorted. An infidelity clause and an upgraded ring from six carats to eight, that was what he thought you would need.

You continued your walk and quickly looked to your right and saw him. you looked away before it registered and smiled to your left before your head snapped back to search for him. frantically your eyes went looking but you didn’t see him and thought you imagined him. before you knew it you were at the front where Broderick was waiting. He smiled at you. it was then he lifted the veil off your head and nodded.

“You’re gorgeous.” The two of you approached the priest and you looked out over the hundreds of people in search of one. You hoped you didn’t imagine him, hoped he was real. You wanted him to be real. After looking through nearly all of them your attention was brought back to the ceremony.

“If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

Silence in the room stretched and you looked again and sure as the roses were still falling there he was. He was standing toward the back with wide eyes and a pale face. you almost passed out. He was there. He was at your wedding. He was watching you right now. A ton of thoughts rushed through your head and so many words came to mind.

“Let’s continue then. Dearly beloved--.” The words of the priest brought you back as Broderick’s hands squeezed yours. You couldn’t breathe. When you looked still there. Your heart sank and you began slowly hyperventilating. You felt everything you felt over those two days come crashing down. Flaring your nose your tears sprang to your eyes.

“Do you Broderick Pierce Havenmayer take F-N/ M-N/L-N” to be your lawfully wedded wife?

to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death you are parted by death?”

“I do.”

You looked to him again and didn’t hear the priest ask you the same question. You got lost in his eyes again. You then looked over to your parents. Your mother had a stern look that was a threat you knew it, but your father looked mellow, neutral. You looked back to him and you saw the break in his calm disposition. His jaw clenched and his nose flared, and you recognized the slight look of pain.

“Y/N?”

Looking back to Broderick and then the priest you nodded. “I—I—I—do.”

The priest continued to speak and when you looked up it was in time to see the door close. He was gone. Panic went through you, panic you’d never felt before, panic you didn’t know how to deal with. Panic that had you grip your stomach and groan loudly.

“Are you all right?” those in your bridal party sprang forward ready to assist, your parents were also there as well as Broderick. You fanned them all off and hyperventilated loudly.

“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.” Your bridesmaids fanned you as the murmuring throughout the room increased. You felt hot and agitated. You ripped the veil off your head and sent a few tendrils of your curled updo in disarray. You then fanned and batted each of them away. “Get away, get away. I can’t—I can’t—I can’t do this!”

Everyone gasped and gaped at you.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this. I can’t continue living this complete lie. I can’t keep pretending to be this perfect daughter, a perfect debutant. I don’t care about any of this, this is ridiculous. I look ridiculous. I hate everything about this day, everything. I only like my underwear and that was a mix-up. you snorted and took the first deep breath that felt good enough in a long time. You then looked at Broderick who looked sad.

“I can’t marry you, Broderick. You don’t love me, not really. You don’t even know me and that’s not your fault until the day before yesterday I didn’t know me either. I can’t stand up here and vow all of these things especially if I don’t love you. I don’t want to grow to love, I want to fall in love and grow together. I want to go to candy stores and eat candy, I want to go to diners at two in the morning and pig out on everything, I want to walk through libraries and do nothing, I want to sit at your besides worried you’ll die because I care, I want to trace your freckles that are on your back with my fingertips in the dead of night when you’re asleep but I’m wide awake. I want to build something for myself, not from my parents, I want to stay up all night doing impractical things, spontaneous things. I want to drink gin and coconut rum together because the combination is actually pretty great. I want prince charming. I don’t want any of this. I’m sorry Brod.” Everyone was silent.

Your eyes finally landed on your parents. Your father was smiling but your mother looked furious.

“I’m sorry mom. This is your life; this is your everything. It’s not mine. I want more than just we fit together, or we look good together or we can have a life that most dream of because of money. I want everything else. I want we belong together; we go together, we are going to have a life that most dream of because of love. I want love.”

She didn’t speak and for the first time, you were so glad about it, because you didn’t care. Your father stepped forward and hugged you. “Go find love.

You smiled and then took off the ring you wore and handed it to Broderick. He sighed and nodded. You hurried down the aisle you just walked up and out the doors. Frantically you looked around hoping to see him. Every wait staff you passed you asked if they’d seen him, but none had. That continued with you looking throughout the rooms for him.

After thirty minutes you had no idea what to do. You didn’t even know his name. slowly you became discouraged and walked outside. The snow was coming down and you stood there taking in the fresh air, taking in your freedom. For the first time in your life, you were completely free. You could do whatever you wanted, and you were absolutely terrified.

Those who passed by stared at you as if it was a strange sight to see a woman in a grand wedding dressed just standing outside in the dead of winter. You probably looked like you belonged anywhere else. A little girl approached you and smiled.

“You look like the fancy woman in a snow globe.” You smiled and bent down to her and took out one of the flowers in your hair and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She giggled and ran off. You smiled and watched her and took another deep breath. Across the street, you saw a bar and decided why the hell not you had nothing else to do.

You gathered what you could of your dress and walked down the steps to cross the street. you drew the attention of everyone walking down the sidewalks and driving. When you walked into the bar you had to pull your train in after you. When you finished everyone was watching.

“Hey, where’s the groom beautiful?” You scoffed and approached the bar and gathered your dress around you as you sat. Thanks to all the pouf and frill it was a comfortable sit but now you were surrounded by while tulle and frill.

“At the altar, where I left him.”

“Oh, tough for him.”

“He has a lot of money to keep him warm.”

“What can I get ya’? it’s on the house in honor of this.” He pointed up and down on you.

“Thanks. Gin and coconut rum.”

“Together?” You nodded, he looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Keep em’ coming.”

He walked off to prepare your dink. Behind the bar, you saw the mirror and it was the first look of yourself you got. Your hair was a mess, curly tendrils fell down all around your face, the put-together look you had hours ago was gone. You looked crazy. you snorted and laughed at yourself. The bartender put a drink in front of you and you wasted no time downing it in one breath. The burn woke you up and made you breathe out and shake your head.

In the mirror, you saw his reflection. He was sitting in the back, in the dark staring at you. Your heart sped and you looked at yourself again. The glint of the gold wrapper of butterscotch in a dish on the bar made you smile. Sliding off the stool you walked over to him with the drink in your hand. The train and bustle of your dress bounced seats and other patrons. When you stood in front of him he took you in from toe to face but he didn’t speak.

“What’s a nice man like yourself doing in a place like this at three in the afternoon?”

“Looking for a runaway,” he responded.

“Runaway? What did she run away from?”

“Well first she ran from her perfect put-together life that had no love, then she ran from the possibility of one that wasn’t so perfect or put together but would have been all the love she needed. Now it seems she ran from this perfect loveless life again.”

“Maybe she realized that in order for her life to be perfect and put together all she needed was love.”

He nodded. “Spoken like the writer of a Hallmark card.” You smiled.

“I still don’t have millions of dollars. I don’t come with some earth-shattering wealth and companies that are worth billions. I don’t have private jets, or fancy outfits and cars to offer you. I don’t have a penthouse in the sky with doormen and drivers. I probably can’t afford a Harry Winston diamond. I won’t be able to take you out on my yacht, or keep you decked in Chanel, Fendi, Prada, and Loubitons every single day of every year. I’m not Broderick.”

“Thank god for that.” You bit your bottom lip put the drink on the table and held out your closed hand to him then opened it showing him the butterscotch in your palm.

“Can you promise to love me for the rest of my life? Can you promise to listen to me, respect me, honor me, be faithful to me one hundred percent? Can you promise that you’ll always be a man of integrity and goodwill and will work every day doing honest work to keep us comfortable? Can you promise that though I have an overabundance of wealth you can easily exceed it in love, devotion, and passion?” A small smile spread on his face. he reached for the butterscotch and you closed your palm.

“It’s only yours if you can promise those things.” He stood coming face to face with you.

“I promise fancy face,” he answered. You smiled and held out the butterscotch. He took it then popped it into his mouth. He then pulled you flush against him and wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You relished his scent and the feel of him in your arms again. It was a feeling you thought you’d never have again.

“Are you sure about this? You sure you won’t regret this and wish you could be who you are?”

You touched his cheek. “I wasn’t me until I met the nicest asshole in the world who saved my life twice and showed me who I was.” His smile was wide as he shook his head.

“Asshole huh.” You nodded.

“But I love the asshole. He’s the only man I could ever love. I love you prince charming. you never had to prove to me or anyone else you were good enough. I needed to be good enough for you. I left Broderick because he wasn’t you.”

He looked choked up and you saw the emotion in his eyes.

“I love you, fancy face.” You smiled and crashed your lips to his and kissed him with every ounce of love and passion you had for him.

“Careful buddy, she left the last guy at the alter!”

Everyone around you laughed, you pulled away and laughed as well.

“You did.”

“I did. You missed the best speech I’ve ever given in my life. In front of everyone, I blew up my life.” He smiled and took out his phone to show you a video of you doing that very thing. Your jaw dropped. You’d made it to the gossip blogs already.

“I caught it. I was pretty good.” You smiled again and kissed him some more. You’d never get tired of kissing him. He lifted you into the air against him and the joy you felt couldn’t be measured or duplicated.

“Ready to go back to Boston?”

“Convince me to go.”

He smiled again then whispered the kinkiest things you’d ever heard in your life. You looked at him with wide eyes and his laugh was loud, the laugh you loved.

“Don’t you think it’s time I knew your name?” He smiled again and stepped back from you then held his hand out.

“Chris Evans.” You smiled, he kind of looked like a Chris.

“Y-F-N/Y-L-N.” He nodded then shook your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” the two of you said in unison with smiles as wide as Manhattan. Chris took up the drink and gulped half then held it out to you. you finished the glass and nodded.

“Good together huh.”

“Belongs together,” he finished.

You smiled and kissed him again. Then the two of you walked out the bar into the snow, you in your fancy two hundred-thousand-dollar wedding dress and six in heels and him with a smile plastered to his face. He took his jacket off and put it around you then held his hand out for you. You took it and both of you walked down the sidewalk ready for whatever came next.

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#convince me to go fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans au

109 notes · View notes

thenovelartist · 5 years

Text

Disruptor Designer and her Model, day 3

3. Couple

Marinette was beside herself in excitement. After all, she was attending a fashion dinner she could only have dreamt about a few years ago.

She’d spent days sewing a ballgown that would be suitable enough for such an event. She was known as Ladybug, so, she would highlight that fact with her look. The dress’ skirt was full of layers of varying length, fading from red like the bodice to black. She decorated her hair with red ribbons, and to finish off her look, she wore a heavy ring of red eyeshadow with a few black dots by the corners of her eyes.

She was sure to make a statement. But that’s what Ladybug did.

She was greeted warmly enough by the host, to which Marinette grinned and thanked him for the invitation. When she entered the venue, her jaw dropped. It was practically dripping in crystals, distorting the lighting enough to make the whole place seem like it was glittering. The number of high-class designers here had her fangirling out on the inside.

But suddenly, once the initial awe ebbed, she realized she was standing in the middle of the room, completely out of her league. She didn’t do high-society events like this. She did little meet-and-greets with fans. She interacted with regular people, not with people who thought they were above those people.

So how was she supposed to navigate this?

“You look lost.”

Marinette jumped at the voice, then spun around…

Only to come face to face with Adrien Agreste.

She bit her tongue to hold in her word vomit until she was able to assemble it into something intelligible. “Maybe a little. I don’t exactly do events like… this.”

She patted herself on the back for her ability to speak as well as she did.

His grin widened. “Well, then maybe I can escort you around for a while? Until you understand the ropes?”

Her heart was flailing wildly. “That would be really kind of you. I’d appreciate it.”

He extended his arm to her, and she gladly took hold of it.

“Have you ever been to an event like this before?” Adrien asked.

She shook her head. “No. I’ve done large crowd events, but not for the high-class.”

He smirked. “Do you have any idea what happens at meetings like this?”

“My guess is a lot of talking business.”

“It’s all that happens,” Adrien informed. “And after a while, it gets rather boring. You learn who likes each other and who hates each other. You learn who’s backstabbing who. You learn who you can forge tentative alliances with, and who you can’t. You learn market trends and what’s likely to be in style and who’s hosting what event, etcetera, etcetera.”

“You make it sound like we’re spies gathering information.”

Adrien chuckled. A lovely sound, if Marinette were honest. “You have a lot of people who have their best interests in mind. They want their company at the top, and they do whatever they need to to make sure that happens.”

Marinette made a note of that.

“So what I’m trying to say, little Ladybug…” He bent over, his lips now close to her ear. “Is welcome to the wolf den.”

…

The moment Adrien had watched the angel in red walk down the stairs into the venue, he felt the overwhelming urge to protect her. That smile was too bright, too genuine for this crowd. One that would eat her alive.

He quickly swooped her under his wing, vowing that he would make tonight as enjoyable for her as he could make it. Thankfully, the few people he introduced her to were polite, talking about the fashion in the room over the fashion world in general.

At least, they could get along with that.

And then, dinner was served.

Thanks to assigned seating, Adrien couldn’t sit by her. He was seated between his father and another high-ranking designer. Ladybug, on the other hand, was on the other end of the table from him. Meaning he couldn’t protect her when one designer decided to pick on her.

“Miss Ladybug, you seem to occupy a… unique sector of the fashion world.”

“I don’t think the corner I occupy is unique,” she responded politely. “Just a different one from you.”

The man nodded. “And just how did you decide to occupy that corner?”

She paused, frozen. “Well, it started off as a hobby, and then the more I grew, the more I found ways to reach out to my audience and interact with them and learn from them what they wanted from me.”

“An… interesting approach,” the man said, gathering murmurs of agreement. “So, you would say you run more on the whims of other people than your own?”

“No, sir,” she respectfully explained. “I run on my own ideas, but it is my fans that tell me which of my ideas they like more.”

“And you find success in that? Letting other people tell you which ideas are the best rather than being the influencer?”

“I am an influencer, but what good is being an influencer if people don’t enjoy my content?” Ladybug spoke with authority, her tone strong and her posture proving she was not to be intimidated. “It would be as silly as a fashion designer who made things no one would want to wear. Isn’t that why all designers follow the trends the consumers set for them?”

The table went silent, staring at her in shock and awe, and in Adrien’s case, in pride. He’d been a follower of hers long enough to know she had to be a genuinely sweet person. The was a darling in the media. She could do no wrong. But apparently, Ladybug had a hard-enough exoskeleton to stand up to some ill-intended conversations.

And for that, his crush for her got a little bit worse.

The next conversation that happened when the next course was served, Adrien didn’t quite know how it started, but all he knew was that Ladybug was speaking again.

“I would say most of the market of consumers either doesn’t care about high-fashion or can’t afford it.”

“If most of the market doesn’t care,” some man said. “Then we wouldn’t have a business.”

There was a collective laughter at that. Adrien was watching Ladybug, already thinking of the best way to defuse the conversation if worse came to worse.

“What market are you talking about?" Ladybug challenged. “Everyone in the world wears clothes of some sort.”

“Yes,” a woman in a sleek black dress across from Ladybug said. “But what about people in our positions? People who need to present themselves as best they can? Men’s suits are a huge industry. And what about the women’s side? Does the average high-class woman not like looking as best they can? Having matching purses and shoes for every outfit?”

Ladybug stared down the woman.

“Of course,” Audrey Bourgeois herself spoke up. “Ladybug, you as a woman should know that a handbag can make the difference between looking sloppy or being at the height of fashion.”

“Yes, but height of fashion does not mean a two-thousand-dollar bag. That is the height of status. It’s entirely possible to spend less than two hundred and look like a millionaire just like it’s possible to shop in any last one of your stores and look like a complete fashion disaster.”

Adrien had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. Oh Ladybug, he thought, looking at the girl who smirked as she observed the lines of people with their jaws on the table. You have no idea what you’ve just started.

…

“I completely ruined any chance of being invited back, haven’t I?” she asked Adrien, who had kindly offered to escort her to her car. Marinette didn’t think it was too late, but people had started taking their leave shortly after dinner.

“Oh, my lady, you…” He chuckled, his smile bright with amusement. “You did something.”

She smacked her hand over her face. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Adrien said. “But I thought that was the most interesting dinner I’ve ever been to. For someone so ‘beneath their status’, you certainly put them all in their place.”

She groaned. What an idiot she was. How dare she say any of that. But having watched those people staring down at her… it was like being bullied back in high school and she’d sworn she’d never let people walk all over her like that again.

And while she’d felt empowered at the time, she realized that these were the kind of people who could tear her apart in the fashion world. They could destroy her.

“But,” Adrien continued, pulling her from her thoughts. “I honestly loved watching you do it.”

Her heart that had been racing with anxiety beforehand came to a screeching halt. And so did she, she soon realized when he turned around to look at her. “What?”

Adrien gave her a sweet, warm grin that could knock her to her knees at the moment. “I’ve been around people like that my whole life,” he said. “And it’s honestly so tiring watching all these really pretentious people who think they’re high and mighty because of their money and status, and some of them think they know everything.

“And then here you come,” he continued, taking a couple steps closer to close the distance. “Not a care in the world for their status or what they could do to you, and when they start bullying you, you just put them in their place and act like a queen doing it.”

She felt like she was going to pass out on the spot.

“And let me tell you, I am going to get some serious crap from my dad for showing you around tonight and escorting you out like we’re some couple instead of near strangers, but I honestly couldn’t care less. Because from what I can tell, it was worth it. And…” He shuffled nervously, glancing down at his feet for a second before meeting her gaze once again. “You’re a very interesting woman, Miss Ladybug, and I would really like if you would grant me the opportunity to take you out on a date.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladrien june 2019 #ladrien #ladybug #adrien agreste #no miraculous AU #fashion au #aged up #first meeting

364 notes · View notes

roseskiesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

Killer Queen - Chapter 10: Dreamers Ball

Summary: Life is easy when things go your way. I know this from experience. I also know that that can disappear in an instant and that you have to be able to rely on your friends. Luckily my name is Arabella Ruth White and I’m the fifth marauder. But I want to show you the girl behind the mask. It takes a lot of work to be this fabulous, darling. (This story is also on Wattpad and AO3 of the same name.)

A/N: So, I recently binge-read all of Lore Olympus on Webtoons and if you haven’t read it, then I highly recommend it. It’s about the Greek Gods (mainly Persephone and Hades) but it deals with some mature themes just to warn you. The chapter title comes from Queen’s 1978 album, Jazz.

Warning(s): alcohol, drugs, swearing, implied sex

Word Count: 4.3k+ (this was one word off of being 4400 words so that’s annoying)

Inspiration: random headcanons I found on Tumblr and Pinterest, The Boy Who Killed God by SeraMGrigori on AO3, All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 on AO3, Sweet Things by Cocomouse on AO3

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26

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Throwing a birthday ball might just have been my best idea thus far, if I did say so myself, and it hadn’t even started yet. I was gradually walking through the doors of the Great Hall, embracing my dramatic entrance for every little millisecond that it was worth. All eyes were on me, as they should be since it was my birthday and I bloody love attention, and suddenly I understood what brides must feel like when they walk down the aisle. The train of my sparkling golden gown trailed along behind me, leaving a stream of glitter in my wake. It had been both a style choice and a way to infuriate Filch when he had to clean it up. Have fun with that, you miserable bastard. The Great Hall was decorated from top to bottom in gold, gold streamers, gold glitter, gold balloons. It was akin to the Emerald City from The Wizard Of Oz but, well, gold. Anyone who was anyone was among the crowd watching me, providing they were at least a fifth year; I didn’t want little kids at my birthday party, thank you very much. The only ones I would even consider would be Rhea and Luke, but they weren’t at Hogwarts yet and right now, I was grateful for that. As far as I could see, everyone had a glass of amber-coloured liquid in their hand, which I assumed was butterbeer for the far majority of people in the hall. Some minuscule part of me wanted to squirm under all of the attention, but I suppressed it as best as I could. I had a reputation to keep up, after all.

You may be wondering how on earth I got access to the Great Hall for my birthday party, and honestly, I can’t blame you for pondering such a thing. It had been a complete stroke of luck which had come in the form of good old Minnie McGee. I’d been explaining my plan for the ball to the lads during one breakfast back in September, yes my plans for it have been in the works for that long what are you going to do about it, and Minnie had overhead while she was walking past our usual spot. I’m quite sure she has some kind of hearing superpower, even though that particular sense should be decaying with her old age rather than growing. And just in case you’ve somehow found this, naturally, I mean no offence, Minerva, so please don’t give me another detention I really don’t want one please and thank you. She’d then gone on to offer the Great Hall for the party but with three conditions. One, she could go and bring Dumbledore as her ‘date’, two, we served nothing stronger than butterbeer and three, we actually worked hard for our OWLs which were just around the corner. Initially, we all thought that she was joking but it turned out that she was deadly serious (naturally Sirius had interrupted her with his classic pun) and that she was, in fact, rather looking forward to going to a party for the first time in a while. James had then asked if she was on drugs, because quite frankly this was one of the nicest things she had ever done for us, and she came very close to whacking him upside the head for even suggesting such a thing. But she never actually denied it, so I still secretly think she does weed. I don’t know about you, but I can most certainly see it.

Now, as you’d expect, I was rather disappointed at Minnie’s suggestion of a near total absence of alcohol, but it hadn’t been long before Sirius, always searching for an excuse to drink to the point where I often wondered if he was addicted, had suggested something quite marvellous: an afterparty. Such a seemingly straightforward idea quickly turned into something so much more. We decided to hold it later on in the night in the Room of Requirement, and only the elite people knew about it and, subsequently, invited. And by ‘elite’, I mean the male specimens I call friends, the females who I love and cherish and a couple of other people. And that was bound to be very much alcohol-fuelled. As long as I had that to look forward to, I could endure a much more age-appropriate evening, just not for too long.

Finally, I reached the platform where the teachers would usually sit during meals, and bear in mind that I had been milking the moment for way longer than necessary, so this did take some time. I cleared my throat for effect before speaking in an impossibly posh voice, “Thank you all for attending my ball this evening. I won’t talk for too long because I would hate to bore you to tears, I’ll leave that job to Professor Binns. Now, Minnie, don’t look at me like that, we all know it’s true. Look, even Dumbledore agrees with me and you can’t argue with Dumbledore. Moving on, I would like to say a couple of things so entertain me for a moment. One, if any of you are caught drinking anything stronger than butterbeer, then I will happily leave you to face the wrath of our dear Minerva on your own, I have no intention of arguing with any teacher tonight.” A few giggles rippled throughout the crowd as well as a few pouty faces from people who were doing a shockingly awful job at hiding mini bottles of firewhiskey behind their backs. It wasn’t my problem, I did say this on the invites I sent out, if they chose to go against that then they would deal with the consequences, not me. I continued, “Two, I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight and remember, it ends at precisely eleven o’clock, which means don’t hang around. Frank and Alice, I’m looking at you.” The couple in question blushed furiously and Alice gave me a death stare that could rival the one I get from Remus when I gather enough courage to steal some of his chocolate. I then clapped twice to signal the official start of the ball and music began to blast from the speakers I’d linked up to my record player which was enchanted to start playing a record whenever I clapped my hands.

It took a second, but people were soon dancing and mingling and doing whatever else people do at parties. I made a beeline straight for the boys but ignored their greetings, instead, I grabbed two, I wasn’t sure which ones, and, hoping that they were all following if they weren’t being dragged, marched over to the drinks table. I let go of whoever I had been holding to pour myself a much-needed butterbeer, but in a wine glass because I’m classy like that, leaving two boys to rub their arms in pain.

“Bloody hell, Ruth, you could have just asked us to come with you, that really wasn’t necessary,” Remus muttered as he got his own drink.

“Why is your grip that damn strong?” James pouted, whining like the little child that he is.

Sirius just smirked evilly, “I think we all know where she gets her practice with her grip.”

Naturally, I wasn’t going to have that, so I swatted him on the arm as if he was a fly, but then I decided that that just wasn’t enough, so I kicked him in the shin. Not too hard because I was feeling nice for some strange reason, but you get the idea. He then howled suspiciously like a dog, causing us all to give him strange looks that pretty much read dude what the fuck.

Sirius, then desperate to change the subject to literally anything else, went on to ask, “Ruth, are Snivellus and his mates supposed to be here? Because I don’t have a problem with physically throwing them out,” he shrugged.

I sighed, knowing my response wasn’t going to be immensely popular amongst the group. I muttered quietly, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, “I invited them.” As expected, I was met with outcries and protests from the cloud of testosterone surrounding me, such as but they’re such pricks and why would you want to infect your own party with the human equivalent of the goddamn plague, so I was quick to defend myself, “I didn’t want to! It’s just that Lily said that she wouldn’t go if I didn’t at least give Snivellus the option. But then I worried that he’d hang around Lily the whole time, and I wasn’t going to allow that, so I invited a couple of his friends too. I didn’t think they’d actually show up though,” I peered over Peter’s shoulder to observe him talking to Lily, grimacing at his choice of outfit if you could even call that monstrosity an outfit. I’d specified in the invites that you had to wear muggle ballgown-wear and you had to make it yourself using magic. I guess blood supremacists don’t even want to wear muggle-style clothes these days. They really are that shallow and it surprised me how Lily couldn’t see that.

Sirius huffed and made a comment that sounded like it should have come from James’s mouth instead of his, “Fine, but only because Lily is a treasure and I’m also terrified to death of her.” When he was met with blank stares for the second time in five minutes, he blushed furiously, only just clocking what he had just revealed.

I smirked at him, “Since when were you such good friends with my dear Lily?”

It was just a widely accepted fact that the girls weren’t huge fans of the boys, and while those attitudes weren’t reciprocated by the other side, it was practically unheard of for the girls to be anything more than civil with the boys. Well, only if you don’t count Lily and Remus’s strange friendship. I’d often promoted a union of sorts between my two friendship groups, holding out in my firm belief that some epic bonds could be formed if they just tried, but I was usually shot down with objections of but they’re arrogant toe rags. I think that that’s complete and utter bullshit but each to their own, I guess. I just carried on in the hope that one day they’d come round and see how silly they were being.

While James was appearing to have a mental breakdown right there and then, Sirius slowly explained, “Since a couple of weeks ago? I went down to the common room because I couldn’t sleep and I found Lily and she looked quite upset, so I asked her what was wrong, thinking she would just tell me to piss off or something, but she just burst into tears and she told me a lot of stuff that I won’t tell you because I think it’s private. Anyway, long story short, we had a rather profound conversation at two in the morning, followed by a couple of games of chess because neither of us wanted to go back to bed. We’ve had some rather thought-provoking conversations in Charms because we sit next to each other this year. She’s actually really cool.”

I grinned broadly at him, “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you for four whole years!” We then high-fived because why the fuck not. Remus gave us a look of wholehearted betrayal, which is understandable because he had been assisting me in my quest to get them to appreciate Lily properly, so I gave him a high-five too, and so did Sirius. Then Peter and James high-fived for no reason other than they were feeling left out, as they should be. So, we all looked like fucking crackheads already but that was to be expected of us.

“Anyway, just because Sniv is allowed to be here, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to fight him the second he does something fucked up, right?” Sirius asked.

“You and I both know you’ll fuck him up regardless of whether I allow it or not, so yes, yes you can. In fact, please do.”

***************

By around midnight we were drunk off our asses in the Room of Requirement, the civilisation of the ball long gone. It was total carnage, although you probably worked that one out for yourself, but it wasn’t all bad seeing as my two friend groups don’t try to murder each other every five seconds when under the influence of my lovely friend alcohol. Most of us were sprawled out on various sofas, still in our ball attire, with Hunky Dory playing on my record player at a much lower volume because our drunk asses couldn’t deal with too much noise. I was lying on a sofa with my head in Marlene’s lap and my feet in Dorcas’s while James and Peter shared a sofa. Alice and Frank were, as I had predicted earlier on, making out in some darkened corner, thinking that they were being subtle because no one was gawping at them. In reality, the only reason we all refused to look was because they were being more than a bit gross and no one wanted to see that, to be frank. Pun absolutely intended. Dorcas didn’t drink because of her religion, which meant she was the only sober one in the room, and that meant it was her job to make sure we didn’t get ourselves killed or anything like that. Lily was actually a bit tipsy, but only due to Sirius’s incessant nagging that she was missing out on the finer things in life. I mean there were certainly finer things than knock-off elf wine we smuggled in from Hogsmeade, but Lily didn’t need to know that. Meanwhile, Sirius was stumbling on a table he’d conjured for this exact reason, wearing Marlene’s stiletto heels and ranting about society’s many problems as he usually did when drunk. Tonight’s topic was for discussion was feminism.

“But why is the world like this? We shouldn’t just accept it for how it is! Shouldn’t we try and change it or something?” he slurred, finishing his drink and promptly refilling it with his wand. Several amens could be heard from almost everyone in the room, as is what happened every time Sirius made a point. It was strongly reminiscent of the church service my mum would drag me along to from time to time.

“Sirius, not that I don’t agree with you, but maybe you should get down before you break your neck?” Lily suggested, looking at him in sheer terror.

He just pouted down at her, “I will only get down when the patriarchy falls, and you girls don’t have to live in fear of boys who have the audacity to call themselves men!”

“If a boy comes anywhere near me, I’ll just smack him round the face, I don’t give a shit,” I piped up, swinging my hand around as if I was actually punching someone, and coming very close to actually hitting Marlene in the face.

“That’s alright though because self-defence and shit,” James grinned at me, running over to clink his glass against mine, then running back to his sofa and sitting down as if nothing happened, leaving me confused, to say the least.

“Has anyone seen Remus?” Sirius suddenly changed the subject. When all he got in response was shrugs and confused looks, he started walking up and down the table like it was a catwalk, shouting, “Remus! Remus, where are you, you little shit? Remu-” he suddenly fell straight off of the table but stood up and brushed himself off as if he hadn’t just nearly died, “Reeeeeeemuuuuuuuus!”

“I think he’s with Idania. I don’t know where though,” Peter offered.

Marlene and I gave each other a knowing look and bumped arms, “I think we all know what they’re getting up to,” she raised an eyebrow at me suggestively.

“Ooooooh, Remus you saucy boy,” I snorted, making James cackle so much that he fell off of his chair and also making Lily fake-vomit so much that I was seriously expecting her to actually throw up right there and then.

I think it’s important to update you on the whole Idania-Remus situation. It’s been a tricky one, I won’t lie to you about that. They only started talking again a couple of days ago, making it nearly three weeks of silent treatment from both parties. Even I thought that that was a bit much, and we all know that I can be a dramatic little shit at the best of times. After copious amounts of persuasion from us, way more than would have been necessary if he wasn’t a stubborn bastard, a rather miserable Remus had finally apologised for some things he’d said in the heat of the argument that he hadn’t really meant. He didn’t disclose exactly what he’d said, but I have to be honest, I was just glad that he got over himself and talked to her because it was painful to sit behind them in History of Magic while they were being that damn ridiculous. Not only had he said that he was sorry, but he’d wanted to do something for her to show her how sorry he was. He’d done some research, which meant he’d spent twelve hours straight in the library. James, forever the mother hen of the group, was far from pleased to find out that he’d missed two whole meals, so naturally, that had led to him lecturing poor Remus on the importance of eating properly. He argued that that it doesn’t matter that it’s for love, you need to eat, for Merlin’s sake, which was saying something when you remember how James was a closeted romantic himself. He’d eventually found a spell that was a variant on the translation spells Peter was rather fond of for uncomplicated pranks. Usually with those spells, you speak whatever you mean to say in English, but when it comes out, everyone hears the language you’re cursed to speak. This one, however, worked with sign language; he would say what he wanted to say, and his hands would automatically sign what he’s saying. It didn’t solve everything, he still had to keep studying the language so he could understand Idania, but it was a sure start, and a massive help for the both of them. According to Remus when he’d returned to tell us how it went, she’d been so grateful that she’d almost started crying, though she denied it every time we asked her about it.

While I had been simultaneously amusing and horrifying my friends with mental images of Remus doing unholy things, Sirius had been on a mission to find him, and seemed to have returned triumphant. At some point, he must have left the room even though I had no memory of seeing him leave, as he was now dragging Remus behind him by the hand, who was dragging Idania somewhat gentler. “I found them!” he proclaimed with a stupid grin on his face, in a way similar to how a child would announce such a thing.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” Peter muttered with no actual malice behind his words.

“You’re welcome, Pete,” Sirius bowed but then stumbled forwards, crashing headfirst onto the ground. He didn’t bother getting up, choosing to sit cross-legged on the floor once he got his bearings.

Lily plonked herself down next to him and gazed at him quizzically, “Why are you saying, ‘you’re welcome’, when you’re the one who wanted to know where they were?”

He covered her mouth with his hand to prevent her from speaking, “Shhh, Lily-flower, shhh.”

She scowled at him while Marlene mouthed ‘Lily-flower’ at me in confusion. I just shrugged, desperately trying not to laugh at James who was clearly dying of embarrassment while trying to hide from Lily. We once heard him murmur the nickname in his sleep during our second year, and even though he hasn’t said it since, we refused to let him forget it. Lily must have licked Sirius’s hand or something for he retracted his hand as quickly as he would if he’d had an electric shock, wiping it on his trousers while staring at her in disgust and betrayal. Lily didn’t show an inch of sympathy towards his pain.

“So, what were you two actually doing?” Dorcas asked, directing the conversation back to Idania and Remus.

Idania smirked evilly and looked up at Remus, looking awfully glad that she didn’t have to be the one to explain. I still thought they hooked up finally, but Remus didn’t look nearly as mortified as I imagined he would.

Remus opened his mouth to speak but Lily cut him off, “I can smell weed.”

“How the fuck do you of all people know what weed smells like?” I laughed.

She glared at me in a way that had me quaking in my heels, “Please, you know what Cokeworth’s like, so you can trust me when I say I know what weed smells like.” I had to give it to her, that town wasn’t exactly the poshest in the UK, and I would know seeing as I used to live in the damn place.

We locked eyes for a second, then slowly looked up at Remus and Idania’s slightly guilty but overall chilled-out faces.

Well shit.

Once it clicked in my head as to what they had been doing, I started giggling uncontrollably for a good minute, and everyone else started looking at me really worriedly. I can’t say I blamed them if I’m honest, I did look like something of a lunatic. I quickly put the spell that Remus had found on myself, suddenly feeling really bad that Idania probably didn’t have much of an idea of what had just been said.

“Idania, how dare you corrupt our sweet, innocent Remus?” I laughed, shaking my head like a disapproving parent.

“Excuse you, Remus hasn’t been innocent since before he met us,” James grinned lopsidedly.

“I wasn’t that innocent before I met you,” the boy in question tried to defend himself, only to be met with about seven people saying, ‘you were’.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point. The point is you smoked weed?” I asked incredulously.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he said, “It’s not that big of a deal, no one really cares about that kind of thing these days, well not in the muggle world at least. Live a little, Ruth.”

“That doesn’t make it any less weird that it’s coming from you, mate,” James shook his head.

“But here’s the question nobody else is brave enough to ask, apparently,” Marlene raised a finger and then pointed it at the couple, “Is it nice? And if so, may we have some?”

Most of us, excluding Dorcas and Lily, made some sort of noise of agreement to which Remus just laughed, “Well, it’s Idania’s, not mine, so it’s up to her really…” he trailed off, leaving his girlfriend to make up her mind.

I didn’t actually know much sign language, except for the odd word or phrase I’d picked up (naturally fuck off was on of them), but whatever Idania had signed in response put a devilish smirk on Remus’s face that was all too familiar, “I think that’s a yes, just not too much. Ida doesn’t think you’ll be able to handle it.” The girl in question lightly breathed through her nose, which I’d come to learn was her laugh.

I gaped at her with mock outrage on my face, “I am offended but at least I’ll get to try some, right?”

A couple of blunts went round during the next however long we were high for, while Lily and, to some extent, Dorcas looked on disapprovingly. I think it’s safe to say that the concept of time was non-existent for the rest of the night. I have to say it was one of the most relaxing yet insane experiences I’ve ever had, and it wasn’t long until long after it had worn off did I start to wonder how Idania had access to that kind of thing. She must have been even more of a badass than we first thought.

When I had first started holding parties like these last year, I had made an offer to Dorcas which had involved me making drinks that had no alcohol in them but still had the same effect. She’d been grateful for the suggestion, but she’d pointed out that doing that kind of defeats the whole point of not drinking alcohol in the first place. We’d then settled on making non-alcoholic drinks that still tasted like their alcoholic counterparts but had no effect whatsoever, and we were constantly trying different recipes. Word caught soon after we started, and our non-alcoholic drinks were in almost as high demand as the alcoholic black market I’d created with the boys. They proved to be popular among students who either didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to drink, but didn’t want to miss out on a party or something like that, as well as older students who needed a form of stress relief from their exams, but didn’t want to develop some kind of addiction. I couldn’t blame them, seeing as they used to drink a lot as a really unhealthy coping mechanism. I’d much rather they drink something else, so I was glad to have been of service. As you can imagine, the business really boomed around springtime.

“You know, trying to keep track of you all is like herding a load of cats,” she huffed, taking a sip of her not-quite-firewhiskey.

“Hey, Dorcas,” I mumbled in the most serious voice I could muster, which was quite the feat considering I was both drunk and high at that point. She leaned in to listen, only to hear me say, “Meow.”

Her brows furrowed sceptically, “Meow?”

I nodded, not breaking my composure though I desperately wanted to just dissolve into giggles like a child, “Meow. Because you said we’re cats.”

Dorcas sighed with a resigned look on her face,” Sure, Ari.”

A chorus of meows sounded throughout the room, much to Dorcas’s confusion and exasperation. I could only imagine what it must be like to have to deal with all of us unaided when we were like this.

A/N: By the way, I’m not trying to promote the use of drugs, personally I think things like marijuana should be decriminalised but that’s a story for another day. Just to remind you, this is set in 1975 at the moment, which means that drugs were more common, and more people did things like weed. It makes more sense when you consider the context. Also, they’re only human, shit like this happens.

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nosleepuntilvacation · 5 years

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Hello... I wanna know... Do you still write Mettaton/reader fic ? And, if you do, can you write one with a nonbinary person (or a man), who want to wear some "woman" clothes, and Mettaton help him/them because sometimes he also wear dresses ? Thank you very much

I can try… I’m a cis woman, so I don’t know how well I’ll be able to handle this topic, but I’ll try to be as careful as possible. (If I slip up, please let me know, so I can fix it accordingly.)

PS: sorry this took me five-ever to write. Aside from having writer’s block, I’ve also had school to worry about, and one of my classes is especially difficult.

Below the cut: In Which a Killer Robot Helps You Express Yourself!

Mettaton, you’ve noticed, has always seemed to be a rebel of sorts.

There are some societal rules that he’s always accepted - everyone has to draw the line somewhere, after all - but there are also some rules that have made him openly question, even to the presses, why they are considered rules in the first place.

Someone criticizes him for making “artificial, soulless” synthpop instead of a more down-to-earth style of music? “Well, darling, doesn’t everyone have comfort food? I think a similar thing applies to music - and if I have to be told not to make synthpop, is it really soulless?”

Someone thinks he makes too many jokes on his shows, and that the overall tone of the shows is a little too surreal? “There are already a lot of serious shows on television; I’m filling a niche, sweetheart.”

And, of course, one of the biggest things that people question about him is his choice in fashion.

Despite making it clear that he’s a man in his heart and soul, Mettaton has always presented himself in ways that many people don’t associate with “traditional” masculinity. He wears pink high-heeled boots (and pink things in general) on a regular basis, he sometimes puts on makeup for fancy occasions, he doesn’t mind being seen doing his nails…

There have even been some times where he’s worn dresses and skirts. And not just in private, either; he’s shown up for public interviews and appeared in music videos wearing ballgowns. Of course, he’s been questioned about this more than a few times; his answers tend to range from “monsters don’t approach gender in the same way humans do” to “I just think it looks good on me” and several others depending on his mood - including at least one time where he simply said “because I can”.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever understand how he manages to be so nonchalant about it… especially since you wish you could be as bold as him.

On an otherwise uneventful day, he catches you sitting on the couch and watching some of his music videos, staring wistfully at the screen. It doesn’t take long for him to join you, slipping an arm around you.

“Captivated by my beauty, are we?” he asks; you simply nod in response. If only you knew…

This particular music video is one of the ones where he’s wearing a dress; just watching him makes it clear that he doesn’t consider this to be uncomfortable at all. To him, it’s just another piece of clothing that he will wear as he pleases, like a shirt or a hat or a pair of pants.

But that’s not what the rest of the world typically says about those kinds of clothes. Dresses, skirts, and gowns, according to them, were meant to be worn by women only - and yet Mettaton, who decidedly isn’t a woman, is so casual about wearing them.

And just like him, you also yearn to try wearing clothes like those despite not being a woman. But Mettaton makes it look so easy; maybe it’s just the stigma that’s been ingrained in your head for so long. If there weren’t as much of a stigma, and if you weren’t so worried about what other people thought of you, then maybe…?

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“Huh?” It’s only just now that you noticed you’ve tensed up - but he noticed it first, and is giving you a concerned look. “Oh… I just have stuff on my mind.”

“Is that so?” He gently takes your hand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

At first, you’re not sure if you want to, but given that Mettaton is probably the person who is least likely to judge you for your wishes, you decide it’s best to tell him.

“I don’t know how you do it… you wear dresses and skirts like it’s the easiest thing in the world. And, well… between you and me, I wish I had the courage to pull it off like you do.” Even now, you’re still not sure how he manages to feel so comfortable wearing whatever he wants – is it just a product of his usual boldness?

He has a thoughtful look on his face as he nods; despite his nonchalance about the whole thing, he definitely seems to know that his wardrobe is a bit of an outlier as far as men’s wardrobes go. Stroking your hand with his thumb, he looks into your eyes. “Perhaps someday, everyone will see that it’s just clothes. But I can assure you, you’re not the first fan of mine who’s felt encouraged to try them on after seeing me do it.”

“Really?”

He smiles and nods. “There have been a few humans and monsters who have tried wearing dresses and skirts after watching me. Of course, we still have a ways to go before it’s universally accepted, but it’s still a start.” Just then, his face settles into contemplation. “Hmm…”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“What if I were to purchase some skirts, and maybe even a dress or two, so you could try them on?”

Your heart starts beating a little more quickly. “You… you’d really do that for me?”

He quirks an eyebrow, still smiling. “Who said I wouldn’t?” With a giggle, he leans in closely so he can whisper in your ear. “Tell me their names so I can give them a talking-to.”

You can’t help but smile, imagining him standing up for you if it ever came to that point. As much as Mettaton loves to showboat, he really does care about those he loves.

And despite your nerves, you feel just a little more sure of yourself.

Standing before the full-length mirror (adorned with pink on the edges), you study your appearance. You have one of your favorite shirts on, and below it, a new black skirt that’s long enough to cover your knees.

So far, it actually feels kind of good. You walk around in a circle; it certainly feels different from pants or shorts, but not in the bad way that makes you want to immediately take it off and put some of your old clothes back on. In fact, you find that you wouldn’t mind trying on one of the dresses that Mettaton bought for you. (He washed this skirt first so you could have something to try on while the other clothes he bought for you were in the wash.)

Knowing that Mettaton is waiting outside the bedroom and wondering about your thoughts, you decide to pay him a visit. As soon as you open the door, he lays eyes on you, and his expression soon goes from neutral to a smile.

Seeing this smile definitely fills you with a sense of relief. “…So, do you like it?”

“I think you look quite lovely as usual, darling.” He gently takes your hand. “But my main concern is, do you like it?”

Something about it feels more than a little empowering; is it the clothes themselves, or the sense of rebellion, or even something else? Despite not knowing where it comes from, you look at him and nod. “Yeah… I think I could really get used to this. Thank you so much.”

His smile only gets bigger, and he soon pulls you into a huge hug. “That’s so wonderful, darling! As long as those clothes make you feel good, go right ahead and wear them.” He kisses your forehead before looking deeply into your eyes. “And I personally think you look beautiful in them.”

Your heart feels warm inside as you return the hug…

…and he soon picks you up and sets you back down on the bed before climbing on himself so he can give you some more cuddles. You cuddle up close to him and close your eyes, both looking and feeling beautiful on the outside and inside.

You still don’t feel ready to take this out in public quite yet, but it’s still a great start – and with Mettaton by your side, you know you’ll never have to be afraid.

#Thanks for asking!#anonymous #undertale #mettaton #mettaton x reader #x reader #if i messed up somehow please let me know #i mean no harm #and i'm willing to listen if i get something wrong

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