#Butter Cultivation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dotieeee · 11 months

Text

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again.

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

PART II here!!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

#dark!dream x reader #dark!dream x you #dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus x you #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream oneshot #dark!dream of the endless #dark!morpheus fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction

198 notes · View notes

kangals · 2 months

Note

Does Stellina correct Kepler for doing things he is not allowed? When my younger dog was a puppy my older dog would correct him for biting furniture, curtains etc. Which was very easy for me tbh. I've heard from other their older dog did similar things and I wonder how common it is for a older dog to teach "house rules" to a younger dog now.

i don't think it's come up yet tbh, but i'm sure she will - she has a specific "narc bark" that she'd use when boone was digging a hole, or chewing something she wanted, etc. and she barks at butters when she's up on the furniture sometimes too. so far kep hasn't been too bad about messing with the house, but i'm sure as he grows and starts doing more then she'll find a reason to tattle. herding dogs tend to take the role of the "fun police" around other animals, which i find to be a hilarious application of centuries of carefully-cultivated shepherding instincts.

61 notes · View notes

rarepears · 3 months

Note

I'd like to think Luo Binghe done met Mobei-jun when he was with Shang Qinghua.

Luo Binghe, fresh out of hell, covered in blood with a mad sword in hand; What'chu got there?

Mobei-jun, simply trying to court his human a la demon way AKA killing monsters, Stalki- cough- observing, Shang Qinghua, confused; A demon corpse?

BUT! Sorry my butter fingers, BINGGE met and beat OG!Mobei-jun when he was a literally ice cold demon, who certainly did not have any love towards Cang Qiong. Stoic, and not as "bloodlust" filled, also an enemy of Cang Qiong, so I think Bingge thought; This Guy Will Be My Paimon From Genshin.

Luo Binghe does meet Mobei Jun! But he doesn't go kill Mobei Jun - instead he seeks to utilize Mobei Jun's skills to help him accelerate getting reunited to shizun. He can get revenge on Mobei Jun later. Shizun time is more important!

so if anything, it's a Luo Binghe fresh out of the endless abyss demanding that Mobei Jun teleport him back to the nearest human civilization. Oh and give him new clothes, food, bath, and updates on the latest events in the cultivation world.

#svsss ideas #svsss #svsss au #shen qingqiu #mobei jun #luo binghe #mxtx #scum villain's self saving system #why lbh didn't kill mbj post abyss thoughts

82 notes · View notes

baby-alien11 · 1 year

Text

Birthday scream (Y/N Ulrich Universe)

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! *Alexa, play 22 by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)*

P.S.: I had to search Skeet's house for this, it's so cool where he lives

I will have a Q&A for my birthday so you can leave your messages for me so you can get to know me better (actually is always open, so you can ask me anything whenever you want)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @aonungsgirlfriend @ethanlandryluver @wenvierismycomfort @aliciacat20 @gabbylovesreading @nikfigueiredo

Since you were born, your birthdays were special, it didn't matter if it was only the five members of your family or a small party with your classmates, you enjoyed it

When you started to go to the Riverdale set, they usually throw you a theme party acording to the season they were filming at the time (seasons three, four and five were weird parties), and in the weekends your entire family will spend a day together

Also, there was also the tradition that someone will be standing up by your bed with the ghostface costume at the moment you wake up, and the person was different every year

Things change because of COVID, making the celebrations family-exclusive, but due to the fact that the virus was slowing down, a big party was a good option

So, while you were still sleeping in your room, on the first floor there was comotion to prepare everything with your friends from Scream and Avatar (due to the filming of the last season, the Riverdale guys wouldn't be there)

"If someone, pet or human goes to the cultives garden, please be careful with the plantings", Skeet exclaimed making the breakfast with Matthew's help

"And if they want to go potty?", Mason asked helping with decorations

"They have a space for that in the garden", Naiia assured

"It's okay if I record most of the party?", Jamie asked with his camera on hand, "And uploading it on my channel?"

"For my part is a yes", Georgina, your mother, answered making a cake with Anna's help, "But Y/N is the birthday girl, so she has the ultimate answer"

"Should we inflate more balloons?", Bailey asked with Liana and Duane by her side surrounded with a lot of balloons

"I think we should fill the trampoline with some of them", Jack suggested, "It will be fun"

"Kids, we have enough with the castle jumper in the backyard", Skeet interrupted, "And I still don't know how she convinced me to get one for the entire day"

"Because she is the baby of the family", Melissa joked organazing some helium balloons

"I actually suggested her the idea", Trinity said whit a proud smile

"You are my new favorite kid", Jasmine said towards the pre-teen

"Wait, don't you have the tradition of using the ghostface costume?", Devyn asked suddenly

"Yeah, who's turn is this year?", Filip continued

Realising that they didn't remember who's turn this year was, the four looked at each other with panic

"What if we add a surprise factor this year?", Jakob suggested turning towards the living room where everyone was, "Who wants to wear the costume?"

"Do you have more than one?", Jenna asked, "Because more than one would be cool"

"Or someone she won't expect", Duane said

"Just so everyone knows", Liana talked, "It's difficult to breath under the mask"

"True!", Matthew exclaimed

"Wait, has anyone seen Iggy?", Amenah, Mason's girlfriend talked, "I haven't seen him in a while"

"Wasn't he sleeping in the couch with the other pets?", Mason asked

"I think I saw Butters and Izzy going upstairs, along with Alaska, Rambo and Zeus", Xavier, Melissa's husband responded

"Jakob", Skeet said causing his son to look at him with a little fear, "When you went to see if your sister was still asleep, did you close the door after checking?"

"Not completely", Jakob laughed nerviously, "I mean, I didn't want to wake her up, so I didn't close the door"

Upstairs, you were already awake thanks to Butters who jumped into your bed to start licking your face, and noticing the other five dogs, you reach out to let them snuggle in your bed

And being wake up with your door barely open, you heard everything downstairs making you smile with fun

"If they knew I'm awake and listening to everything", you laugh to the pets

Hearing someone coming to your room, you decided to pretend you were still sleeping covering completely with your bed sheets, leaving the pets uncovered

After disscussing who would wear the costume, they choose the one who you never expect, and that was Bailey, who was walking slowly towards your room trying to make zero noise, with Jamie following with his camera to film

When they arrived at the room, Jamie stood in the door filming while Bailey started walking towards your bed noticing the pets laying at the feet of the bed

The moment you felt someone next to your bed, you were quick to jump and scare the person behind the costume, earning a girl-ish scream which you recognized

"Oh my God! Bailey?", you exclaimed in surprise kneeling in your bed

"Happy birthday", Bailey said taking the mask off, "Liana was right, it's hard to breathe in this"

"I didn't expected this", you laughed while she sat in your bed

"Yeah, last time I'm going to use this", Bailey said, "Jamie is filming also"

"Hi, happy birthday Y/N", Jamie spoke still from the door

"Thanks", you smiled, "Wait, who is here?"

"Almost everyone", Bailey responded, "Come on, breakfast is ready"

Without caring that you were still in you pajamas that consisted in a tank top and sweatpants. you went downstairs with Bailey and Jamie, seeing the first floor full

"Happy birthday!", everyone exclaimed the moment they saw you

Squealing of happinnes, you were quick to hug everyone in the place, watching all the decorations that adorned the first floor

"Did you like the way to wake up this year?", your mom asked while hugging you

"Actually, I was awake before Bailey entered", you revealed surprising everyone, "I heard almost everything"

"I'm sorry in advance for leaving the door open!", Jakob exclaimed

"I knew you were the one who leave it open", you laughed, "You always leave it open"

"Welcome to the club, man", Mason spoke, "I'm also the sibling who leaves the door open"

That comment made everyone laugh before getting to the kitchen to serve all the breakfast foods that was made, and sitting in the living room while the pets lay besides their owners

"So, what's the itinerary for today?", you asked sitting between Jack and Trinity

"We rented a castle jumper", Skeet answered, "Is in the pool backyard"

"No way!", you yelled with surprise, "Are you serious?"

"It arrived early in the morning", your mom responded, "And it's ready to use"

"We also bring a piñata", Melissa said, "We'll put it next to the garage"

"And we also bring three bags of candy to fill it", Xavier continued

"This day is going to be so fun", you smiled

"After breakfast, we'll spend time outside, then we will have lunch and you'll open your gifts", your mom continued, "And the cake will be the dinner, what do you think?"

"It's the perfect day", you smiled

After everyone ended up breakfast, you went to your room to change your sleeping clothes for a over-sized shirt and comfy shorts

"Baby, are you ready?", Jack asked entering your room, "The castle jumper is waiting for you"

"Totally ready", you smiled aproaching to him

Before both of you could leave the room, Jack was quick to softly hold your cheeks and share a small kiss

"Happy birthday", Jack said leaving a kiss in your forehead, "I love you"

"I love you", you responded with a love smile

Carrying you in his back, you and Jack went downstairs in direction to the pool backyard were everyone was already in the castle jumper

"Before everyone start to jump, we decided to make a rule!", Georgina exclaimed, "Everyone who is filmimg, promoting or working on projects be careful and don't do anything dangerous like backflips or jumping into the pool!"

"Please, is for your own safety", Anna continued

"If you don't follow the rules I will eat the two cakes that we have!", Matthew yelled, "I'm serious about that!"

Laughing for that threat, everyone that was in the castle started to jump and play while having fun and listening to the music that was on the speakers

After everyone was tired of jumping and the lunch was over, it was time for the next part of the party: the piñata and the gifts

"Okay, here´s how this works", Melissa said before starting, "Everyone will hit it three times to try to break it, if it doesn't break when everyone passed, anyone can hit it, of course, the birthday girl is first"

"And what do we do when the piñata is broken?", Filip asked

"Fight for your life for the candys", Xavier answered holding the rope from which the piñata hung on the thick branch of a three

"This sounds fun", Jakob commented

"Now, fictional half sister", Melissa spoke again handing the wood stick, "Let's start with this"

Smiling with excitement, you walk towards she was and took the wood stick to aproach to the white and pink flower piñata

"This looks so cute", you said refering to the piñata before hitting it hard surprising everyone

"Mini Ulrich has a strong arm", Jasmine commented

After hitting it three times, you passed the wood stick to the next person who was Naiia

For the next minutes, everyone took their turns to hit the piñata getting to break it slowly due to the hits, until it was Matthew's turn when he mannaged to break it, which caused that the young adults and teenagers throw themselves to catch the more amount of candies that were previously inside the piñata

That scene made all the adults laugh and take pictures of the fight for the candies

"Where are all the chocolates?", Devyn asked

"I saw Mason put them in his bag", Trinity responded

"Are you serious?", Mason exclaimed, "This are Amenah's favourite"

"Dude, just give us some", Duane said

"But you have to give us some of the strawberry lollipops", you yelled

"I don't have them", Duane answered with indignation

"Yes you have them", Liana argued, "I saw you took them"

After a little argument about the candies and everyone having all types, the group went back to the living room for the next part of the party

"Well, since we are the people who gave you life, it's fair we are first", your mom said

"Happy birthday tornado", Skeet continued leaving a big box in front of you

"Thanks mom, thanks dad", you thanked both of them before opening the box revealing materials for VFX make up, "Oh my God, thank you so much, this is awesome"

"Yeah, ours is better", Naiia spoke while Jakob gave you a medium box

A little nervous because you didn't know what to expect from them, you open the box laughing at the moment you saw the content

"What is it?", Jenna asked with curiosity

In response you lifted the white shirt with the phrase "child of divorce" which made everyone laugh

"We also get ones to ourselves", Jakob laughed

"I can't wait to wear this outside", you joked

"I'm next", Jack anounced giving you a big box, "Happy birthday gorgeous"

"Thanks babe", you smiled opening the box revealing a set of LEGO flowers, "I love them!"

During the next hour and a half you spend it opening the gifts that included more supplies for VFX make up from Matthew, a polaroid camera from Jamie, jewelry from Bailey, the 'email's I can't send' vinyl album from Trinity, a Thom Brown backpack from Jenna, books from Filip and Duane, aromatic candles from Jasmine, two pair of sneakers from Mason and Amenah, clothes from Liana, phone cases and accesories from Devyn, skin care products from Melissa and Xavier, and a sketchbook with supplies from Anna

yn.ulrich, jackchampion, masonthegooding and 128, 805 more

skeetulrich this is how my living room looks after Y/N birthday, because a whole day together wasn't enough

tagged: yn.ulrich, naiia, julrich21, jackchampion, melissabarreram, xavierzazuetaoficial, jasminsavoy, masonthegooding, amenahsoares, baileybass, lianaliberato, misstrinitybliss, jamieflatters, duane.evans_, devyn_nekoda

yn.ulrich this was one of my best birthdays ever!!

baileybass I can't believe I almost get hit by a piñata

› jasminsavoy I already apologized a hundred times

› kjapa did you have a piñata?!

› jackchampion yeah, it was a flower one, Melissa brought it

user497 I want to be friends with all of them

matthewlilard good luck with the kids, I'm already taking my flight

› yn.ulrich uncle Matthew, you know I love your gift, but you know what will be awesome as a present?

› yn.ulrich to know if Stu is alive

› matthewlilard okay, I'm going to block you, happy birthday

› julrich21 HAHAHAHAHAHA

#jack champion #jack champion imagine #jack champion scream #jack champion x reader #jack champion x you #scream #skeet ulrich #y/n ulrich universe #baby alien creations #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #jack champion fanfic

237 notes · View notes

devestatedutterlydevestated · 11 months

Text

the thought of every demon in the northern palace being confused and disgusted w how a cowardly, pathetic, wimpy, weak, annoying, sad excuse for a cultivator like shang qinghua was able to bag such an absolute baddie like mbj is so hilarious to me bc can u imagine working for the stoic, merciless, lethal mobei jun who slaughters anyone who dare disobey him, right hand man to the demon emperor himself

and then suddenly one day mbj just appears w a disgusting little thing attached to him crying and wailing nonstop 24/7 and mbj is just? ok w that?? in fact, it seems he doesnt mind??? like at all????

like someone caught sqh eating an entire stick of butter from the palace fridge at three twenty five am and instead of getting mad the next day mbj ordered the entire fridge to b stocked w butter and only butter

every single demon is downright terrified of this odd little man bc he has mbj completely wrapped around his finger and neither of them seem to notice

#svsss #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #shang qinghua #mobei jun #i know i kept calling him disgusting but i adore sqh <3 #hes just like me frfr #idk i just find the idea of mbj being absolutely smitten w sqh so funny #like dont get me wrong its adorable too #but mbj is a demon lord he has subjects to rule over and said subjects are watching him trip and fall over his own feet #just to make this weird little man who popped outta nowhere happy #moshang #mxtx #mbj #sqh #svsss sqh #scumbag self saving system #scum villain #theyre in love your honor #they really really are

214 notes · View notes

thetinybutimportantthings · 1 year

Text

Mushroom Foraging: Lions Mane

Lions mane (Hericium erinaceus) is a tooth fungus of the family Hericiaceae. A prime edible species, it is found in temperate climates across much of North America and Eurasia. They feed predominately on decaying wood and can be easily cultivated on sawdust, with kits available online from many sources.

I found this one on an oak tree where I hunt in the Southern United States, and since they’re as close to completely safe as a wild mushroom can be, I decided to treat my folks to one of my favorite wild edibles. This one was frankly enormous, so there was plenty to share.

We’re gunna need a bigger pan.

In seriousness, this one probably weighed something along the lines of 10 pounds, but that was largely because it had been raining all day and these things are like sponges. Unfortunately, despite looking pretty decent, it was on the edge of edibility, with the core having already softened and gone yellow.

Luckily, the toothed exterior (the best part for eating as far as texture goes) was still fine, and I was able to get a very respectable portion of the stuff.

This species is known for cooking down to a texture and flavor not dissimilar to seafood like crab or lobster, and is quite nutritious. I sauteed this one in butter, and seasoned it with some herbs, cayenne, and salt and pepper.

It was supremely delicious, with a side of roasted potatoes and salad and some shrimps. Dipped in cocktail sauce it really is remarkably similar to a bite of crab.

Foraging note: All members of the genus Hericium, in North America at least, are safe edible species. But once they begin yellowing and producing spores they can cause stomach upset, so be cautious. There are no dangerous look alikes of this species, which makes it one of the safest mushrooms to forage. That said, you should always be cautious when harvesting wild edibles, both ensuring that what you are taking is identified correctly, and that it is not contaminated by pesticides/herbicides/other environmental toxins. Also take care to not overharvest wild sources, and to not damage the habitat as you go.

#personal #mushrooms #fungi #lions mane #nature #science #biology #biodiversity #foraging

484 notes · View notes

sage-nebula · 1 year

Text

Sonic Music HCs

Sonic: Punk rock. Punk music tends to be anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian, and often pro-environmentalism. These are all core beliefs of Sonic's, and so the lyrics would resonate with him deeply. Sound-wise, fast guitars and loud drums are his bread and butter. If music doesn't make your blood race and bones rattle, what's the point? He hates ballads; anything too slow or sappy puts him off. (Though, he has sang slower punk songs, such as "Roadside" by Rise Against, to Tails as lullabies when they were younger.)

Tails: Also punk rock, because it's what he grew up listening to thanks to Sonic. Plus, punk rock songs tend to be loud and busy enough to provide his brain with the stimulation necessary to allow him to focus on one project at a time. That said, Tails is fine with most music and thinks there's something to like in just about any genre.

Knuckles: Honestly could not remember ever hearing a song even once in his life before traveling down to the surface for the first time. Sure, birds would sing and chao would bang on drums, but a full on song? No. That said, when he IS introduced to music he likes instrumental hip-hop. Songs with lyrics frustrate him if he can't tell what the lyrics are, so he likes instrumentals with nice beats.

Amy: Amy loves anything you can dance to. Pop and hip-hop are the big ones, but she also thinks swing music and jazz can be really fun to listen and dance to, too. She's pretty amiable about music too, but she doesn't like anything that sounds depressing or moody. Bright, fun, happy songs are her style.

Cream: On the record, Cream only listens to classical music that Vanilla introduced to her basically as soon as she was born. Off the record she also listens to everything Amy listens to, and is very invested in learning all the dance routines.

Big: Has no preferences really, basically anything is fine with him, but he does have an impressive collection of bluegrass albums.

Shadow: His music taste was cultivated fifty years ago on the Space Colony ARK when Maria would play her favorite records and he would listen to them with her. However, listening to those songs now hurts him in a way he doesn't want to deal with, so he doesn't. He also thinks most modern music sounds like garbage, so honestly, he just doesn't listen to music period. That said, he does enjoy a wide variety of podcasts, from trivia and history ones to true crime ones. He doesn't like talking to people, but he does like to listen to people talking to other people who aren't him.

Rouge: She likes whatever is most advantageous to like in the given moment. She has a vast array of music knowledge so she can con her way into any fan space or event. That said, the music playing most often in her bar is R&B or oldies.

Omega: He likes listening to things like recordings of car crashes, building and tank explosions, malfunctioning machinery, air raid sirens, etc. He insists this counts as music. Rouge advises against arguing with him, and Shadow hopes you try.

Vector: He's a ska man through and through, but he does dabble in a wide array of other genres too, to expand his music education. The only thing he won't touch is EDM. He thinks Omega's car crash recordings have more musical merit than EDM.

Espio: Espio claims to only listen to indie artists that most people have never heard of and Charmy says he made up on the spot. When asked to describe the genre, he never can. He actually listens to a mixture of emo rock and rap.

Charmy: Pop, but specifically the Kidz Bop versions because Vector doesn't want to have to explain cuss words, and also because Espio hates Kidz Bop with a passion. He also likes EDM when he's mad at Vector for something.

Whisper: Lo-fi is her absolute favorite; it calms her down even in her worst mental health moments. But she also used to be a big fan of alt rock, and the wisps remember how she has a beautiful deep register for R&B.

Tangle: Just about everything and anything, but power metal is a particular fave and it's her dream to be able to play "Through the Fire and Flames" on a real guitar. (Note: she does not know how to play guitar.) She will lose her voice screaming metal at karaoke and will go right back to do it again the next night.

Jewel: Also a fan of power metal; similar music taste is one of the first things she and Tangle bonded over. She's fine with other music, but when she's listening to music while serenely completing paperwork, there's power metal shredding in her earbuds.

Lanolin: She likes a smattering of different things, but her go-tos tend to be more indie / alternative fares. Think things like Sleeping at Last for instance. Heavy guitars and drums aren't her style: she prefers more melodic pieces.

Eggman: EDM. If it isn't made by machines, he doesn't think it's worth listening to.

Starline: Only the most distinguished classicals; nothing low-brow peasants would listen to. Eggman's taste in "music" was the only turn-off Starline had.

Surge: Thrash metal, speed metal—if it is loud, aggressive, and full of screaming, she is all over it. She hates anything sentimental, slow, or sweet.

Kit: Thrash metal and speed metal, because that's all Surge will listen to, and the idea of listening to something else on his own has never occurred to him.

217 notes · View notes

lycomorpha · 10 months

Text

Toadflax brocade thinking about warming up for take-off, then deciding to rest for a bit longer!

May we all find some time to rest this week 🦋💖

As the name suggests, the toadflax brocade feeds on the wildflower toadflax, which is a great bee plant as well as a food source for many moths and butterflies. Also known as butter-and-eggs and wild snapdragon (although not in the same taxonomic group as cultivated Antirrhinum snapdragons,) toadflax is easy to grow. & If it finds its way into your garden you could let it stay and help feed your local moths!

Thank you from the Moth Promotional Board ✨🦋✨

89 notes · View notes

ganymede-princess · 16 days

Text

Midnight At Noonday | Dead Poets (Part 3)

PART 1 | PART 2

ship: Surprise! x fem!OC

warnings: still none

summary: Clare gets to know Charlie.

word count: 3124

a/n: Tragically, I forgot to cross-post this chapter when I was doing them all before. Hope you guys enjoy.

taglist: @toobraindeadtofunction

written by @ganymede-princess

“So,” Charlie broke the silence as we passed a group of younger boys playing knucklebones in the dirt under one of the oak trees. “You got your extracurriculars yet?”

“Yeah.” I unlinked our arms as we came up to the building’s entrance, casting a glance around for any teachers. “Soccer, rowing, and Nolan said he’d have the caterers teach me some home ec too, even though they don’t do that for boys.” I sighed. “I don’t mind it, really. I like cooking and folding laundry fine, but it kind of seems a little, um…”

“Misogynist?” Charlie offered.

“Yeah!” I nodded enthusiastically. “I was scared to say it.”

“Hey, don’t be.” He gave me an emphatic look. “This whole place is backwards. I’m surprised they let you in at all.”

“Me too, but it was the only way they could get my father to teach. We’re kind of a package deal.”

“I see. Still, it must have been a tough sell. You must have enough merit of your own to convince Nolan to change his ways.”

“I suppose I do.” I flushed under his praise. “I mean, my grades are up to standard and, uh… Well, I suppose I’m a good debater when I have my head screwed on. I had to vouch for myself on the phone to him before he let me in. Y’know there’s something about that man that makes me want to stand up for myself.”

“Would that be his face like a smacked ass, or the whole correctional officer bit?”

“Both, probably.” I said with a giggle. “I managed to convince him to let me into the debate club too.”

“Debate club?” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. How’d you swing that?”

“Well, I debated him. I told him I imagine a number of the boys in the club would go on to careers in politics, so if any of them wanted to run for president or something, it would be very important to understand the female perspective in order to win women’s votes.”

“No time like the present, right?”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “I said that the earlier you start gathering information, the easier it will be to campaign later. And then I made a joke about helping them to better understand their future wives, and that really tickled him.”

“Did he give you any push back?”

“Of course. He said I’d have an unfair advantage ‘cause my femininity would fluster my opponents; and also that my admittance to the club would ‘undermine the long cultivated identity that has been a constant since the club’s inception.’” I slipped into a half-hearted impression of the stuffy old man. “So I said if I ever argued against the club’s values, surely the members coming together to defend them would only strengthen their resolve; and that I would wear my ugliest, lumpiest jumper when I’m on the soap box.”

“I bet he saw the funny side of that.” He said sardonically.

“He did! He actually laughed, can you believe it? He said I have ‘moxie.’”

“Weird.” He frowned, but there was real admiration in the look he shot me.

“You’re telling me.” I laughed to cover my blush. “The funny thing is, I don’t really care about debating. I really wanted a spot on the school paper, but he said it would be inappropriate for a new transfer student to be involved in something so front-facing; especially one who’s already drummed up some controversy.”

“Damn. Try him again next semester, huh? I’m on the paper, I can vouch for you.”

“That’s so kind! Thank you, Charlie.”

“Any time.” He said as we rounded the corner to the east wing stairwell. “Hey, did you say you’re doing rowing?”

“And soccer.”

“Bit of a sportswoman, huh? Very nice.”

“You don’t have to butter me up, I’ll still help you with English.” I threw him a smirk.

“Ugh!” He threw his hand up in phoney indignation. “I’d never use flattery to get what I want! But, seriously, I think it’s cool you’re athletic. You can sit by me at rowing, if you want.”

“Sure. I’ve never done it before, so I hope I’m not too much of a hindrance.”

“You’ll pick it up fast. It’s easy once your muscles get used to it. You better pray you’re on my soccer team, though, kid. I’m the best goalie that ever lived.”

“Sure you are.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “I’ve never played that either. I hope I learn quickly.”

“It’s not so bad. What did you do for sports at Chelsea?”

“I did tennis and track. We had soccer and cricket teams too, but that was never my thing. You ever played tennis?”

“No, never.”

“That’s a shame! It’s so much fun.” I sighed dolefully. “I still have my gear, and I’m hoping to find a partner.”

“I could try.” He offered. “I don’t know how good I’ll be.”

“That’s sweet of you.” I gave his arm a light squeeze. “If I find somewhere to play, I’ll let you know.”

“Sure. Look, we’re nearly there.”

“Oh, so we are.”

Sure enough, we had arrived at the familiar stairway that led right up to my room. I was astonished that not only had he kept me entertained all the way from the west wing to here, but he had kept me talking through our entire walk. After the horror of this morning, I thought I would be buried deep in my shell forever. I felt a warm rush of gratitude for the boy with the permanent smirk. Though he liked to mask it with a clownish attitude, I could see that he really cared about people.

“I can take it from here, thanks Charlie.”

“No problem. Hey, do you have your own bathroom, or are you slumming it with us?”

“No, I have my own.” I laughed. “Well, it’s Dad’s- I mean Mr Keating’s too.”

“Ugh! Privileged.”

“I know!” I blushed, embarrassed at the faculty’s special treatment. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, can…” I hesitated. “Can I sit with you guys?”

“Of course!” He touched my arm reassuringly. “I’ll save you a seat.”

“Thanks. See you then.”

“Bye, Skipper!” He was gone before I could reprimand him.

Feeling a spark of annoyance- more so at my father than Charlie- I scaled the last flight of stairs and came up to my bedroom. It was a surprising relief to be alone, and I realised my ears were ringing from the constant noise of three hundred teenage boys nattering and play-fighting from class to class. I rubbed my temples, feeling around for tension, heaved a sigh, and dragged my feet over to my suitcases. It felt like such an effort to dig around and find my toiletries, and by the time I found them I had to fight against the urge to curl up on the floor and go to sleep. Instead, I hauled myself to my feet and had a quick look around my room. It was much better than the boys’ dorms; there was more space, with a bigger bed and wardrobe, a bigger desk with more drawer space, and a small table with one of those new fangled electric tea kettles. I felt like the Queen of Sheba, though I doubted she would be so ashamed of her luxuries. I let out a sigh, then made my way to the bathroom to scrub off the day with soaps and potions.

I had just finished putting my hair up in Spoolies and was about to put on some dinner clothes when I heard a rapping at my door. I hurriedly pulled a bathrobe over my pajamas and went over to investigate. To my dismay, there was no peephole, so I had no clue as to who I was opening the door to. In a slight panic, and not wanting to sound rude, I opened the door straight up without asking who was there. Thank the lord it was just Dad. He was smiling softly and held a bundle of cattails in a tall crystal vase.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He stepped in and kissed my cheek. “I thought you could do with some colour in here, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find any foxgloves. I nearly had an impromptu scuba session getting these.”

“Thank you.” He strode past me and placed them on the windowsill by my desk. “I love cattails.”

“Yes, you do.” He agreed with a playful smile. “You bit one when you were two and got a mouthful of seeds.”

“So I’ve heard.” It was one of his favourite stories from my early childhood.

“So. Clare. I thought you might like to join me for dinner in my room tonight for a little recconassance. How about it?”

I hesitated. I would be so grateful to have some quiet time before study group tonight, but Charlie had already saved me a spot at his table and I desperately wanted to see Neil again. I supposed I would see him while we studied, but there would be little time for talking. I suppose I left it too long to reply, as Dad shook his head and laughed.

“You don’t have to say yes.”

“No, no I’d like to. I just-” I sighed in agitation. “I don’t like that I have privileges that the boys don’t have.”

“Hm.” He looked thoughtful. “Well… Sure, you have a few luxuries not afforded to the rest of the student body, but you have plenty of extra restrictions too. I think it all evens out in the end.”

“I suppose you’re right.” I let out the tension in my shoulders. “I’ll eat with you, but I need to go a little before eight so I can meet up with my study group.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I’m proud to see you taking your school work seriously, but try not to let it rule your world.”

“I think I might have to if I’m going to stay here.” I wiped my eyelids, fatigue weighing heavy on them. “I have to at least stay on top of things, until I get a feel for how much I have to do.”

“Mm, you are right.” Dad sighed, shaking his head. “I only wish you had more time to do what you’re truly passionate about.”

“Who knows? Maybe I have an untapped passion for Latin.”

“Well, you can’t have inherited it from me.” He ambled to the door. “Come on, dinner’s getting cold.”

It seemed Dad had hustled an extra portion of the teacher’s meal for me. Waiting at the small dining table in his room was a tray with a glass cloche over it, covering two steaming bowls of carbonara. With a pang of guilt, I noted that it was much nicer than the prison food I had heard some of the boys describing earlier that day. I sat down while Dad stepped aside to select a record to put on the turntable.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” He smiled. “I can’t guarantee all your meals will be as nice as this one. Hell-ton hash is a necessary rite of passage.”

“Surely it’s not that bad.” I tried my best to sound optimistic, but the day was so long and I was so tired, and with a stack of work to do for every class, I truly felt like the entire school had been designed to torture me. Why would the food be any different?

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I’m not.” I let my hand rest on my cheek and gazed longingly at the meal, only just realising how starved I was.

“Go on, dig in.” Dad insisted, picking out a Chopin piano record, probably for my benefit.

I started eating before he sat down, and neither of us said grace. Of the four pillars, tradition was the one that fell most by the wayside in our household. The pasta was the most divine thing I had ever tasted, and it took a lot of effort not to wolf it all down straight away. The piano filled the air with delicate swelling sounds. Chopin would always be my favourite.

“So, how was your day?” I asked before he had a chance to start a round of twenty questions.

“Excellent.” He responded, pouring us both a glass of cloudy apple juice. “Every one of my classes contain students of great merit. I can see poets everywhere! But I see real brilliance brewing in your class. There’s a spark there that I can’t quite place.”

Neil. I thought. From the brief interaction I had had with him, I saw his friends treat him with reverence; even Charlie- the social dynamo that he was- seemed to look at him with respect. Neil’s very presence must have stirred up inspiration in his peers.

“I agree.” I smiled. “I think even the quiet ones will surprise you.”

“Yes, indeed. Though, I quite like that Dalton boy, loud-mouthed as he may be. He reminds me so much of myself at that age. Eager to entertain.”

“Charlie’s lovely.” I swirled some pasta around my fork, reminiscing our earlier conversation. “A boy was giving me a little trouble earlier today, and he saved me.”

“What kind of trouble?” Dad paused, fork raised, his face suddenly grave.

“Nothing serious.” I said quickly. “He wanted me to join his study group, and said something insulting about one of the boys in my group when he found out I already had one.

“Oh. How unpleasant.” He relaxed and took his bite of pasta.

“Mhm. I stood up for him, though.”

“You always were one to do that.” He smiled proudly.

“I suppose I am. I had a disagreement with Overstreet before class when he threw a paper ball at that boy who sneezes a lot.”

“Spencer Poindexter.”

“Poindexter?!”

“Yes, you heard right. You won’t forget that one in a hurry, will you?”

“No. Poor guy.” I shook my head, feeling a rush of empathy for the kid. He must have had a terrible time growing up. “That reminds me, though-” I pinched the bridge of my nose in embarrassment. “I forgot Todd Anderson’s name earlier. Called him ‘Tom.’ It was terrible, he went bright red… looked like he was malfunctioning. He’d only just been introduced too! Oh, gosh, it was so bad!”

“That’s not that bad.” Dad chuckled. “You’ll worry yourself to death if you let yourself get hung up on a little thing like that.”

“I suppose it could have happened to anyone…” I mumbled, face hot with remembered embarrassment.

“Exactly. Anderson seems like a forgiving kind, anyway. You’ll make amends in time.”

“Yes, I hope so.” It would be so awkward to spend time with Neil if his roommate hates me.

We ate in silence for a while. I soaked up the piano melodies like gravy into bread, letting them draw my mind away to ballroom scenes of slow dancing with Neil at a senior prom we’d never have. I was just scraping up the last bits of bacon and was about to dig into my creme brulee when Dad spoke up again.

“So, about this crush we were discussing earlier…”

“Oh, stop!” I exclaimed in hushed tones, as if Neil might have had his ear pressed up to the door. “Forget I said anything.”

“Now, Clare, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He soothed.

“There’s everything to be embarrassed about!” I let my fork clatter into my bowl. “I’ve barely said a word to him! I shouldn’t even be feeling like this, anyway. It’s against school rules. Rules that you are supposed to enforce, by the way.”

“I am aware of that. And, as such, if I catch you fooling around, officially I should report you. So it’s of the utmost importance that you don’t give me or any of the staff any reason to suspect a thing.”

“There’s not going to be any fooling around!” I took out my agitation on the crispy top of the creme brulee and shoved a spoonful into my mouth.

“Well, you say that now.” He ran his spoon along the top of his dessert, taking great pleasure in the scraping sound, then struck it once with the back of the spoon, creating a satisfying crack. “Anyway, a clandestine love affair is a good thing at this age. It’ll build character and fuel your poetry. You’ll write the best poems of your life before you’re twenty-five.”

“Mmph!” I buried my face in my hands.

“Who is it?”

“Who is it?” I looked up in horror.

“Yeah.” He rested his cheek on his hand like a gossiping schoolkid. “Tell me.”

I looked at him long and hard, searching his eyes for a glimpse of just what he planned to do with this information. Turning up nothing, I said the only thing I could think of.

“Absolutely not. You’ll have to guess.”

“Guess?”

“Yes, go on. You got three strikes, then you can’t ask me again for a week.”

“Okay, okay.” He thought for a moment. “The obvious guess would be Dalton.”

I hesitated.

“Well, no… Charlie is really wonderful, but, well… it’s not him. It might be simpler if it was him. I mean, at least I’ve had a proper conversation with him, and he makes me laugh, and he seems… Well, maybe the flirting is compulsive.”

“Hm, not Charlie. There goes my one informed guess. Meeks?”

“No. He’s lovely, but no.”

He looked out the window and thought for a moment.

“Anderson?”

I hesitated again, though this time I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“No, not Anderson.”

“Darn. Y’know, if you told me, I might be able to help.”

“Help how?”

“I could reassign seats, pair you two up for assignments… recommend him love poetry.”

“No! No, thank you.” I said hurriedly, getting to my feet. “I think I’ll handle this just fine on my own. Now, I really should go and meet Neil. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Neil!” Oh no. “Neil Perry! The one who sits in front of the Pitts boy, with the big brown eyes. I thought of him straight away, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name!”

“It’s not him.”

“Oh, yes it is.” He grinned, absolutely cheesed. “I can tell by the panic in your eyes. Not to worry, Clare, my lips are sealed and I will take no action without your go-ahead.”

“It’s not!”

“Okay, sweetheart.” He said unconvincingly, got up and kissed me on the cheek, and handed me the rest of my creme brulee. “Take this to your room, you can eat it later. Though, I’m sure you’ll get enough sugar to last you elsewhere. Now, go have fun.”

“It’s. Not. Him.” I said emphatically before giving him a quick hug. “Good night.”

#charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society #dps #dead poets #dead poets x reader #neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #knox overstreet x reader #gerard pitts x reader #steven meeks x reader

25 notes · View notes