#sorry cleo

[amberinn]

the sun, the stars, the moon, mars

earth, the fool, the comet

[naturewivesmybeloved]

I hope Cleo knows that now because of limited life she is forever in my mind, the mom friend. They have the potential to be really sassy and sarcastic but now all I can see is her soft spot, and it helps she used to be a teacher too. So now in my head her and stress are the mom friends on hermitcraft. And don’t mistake this for me assigning all the parental roles to the ladies because 1. Stress totally gives me the vibe that she would poison your tea, just because and 2. False, gives me “I don’t know what to do with children vibes” , Gem gives older sister at best and chaos gremlin little sister at worst and Pearl is too chaotic and a wet cat to be anything but like a little sister or like a younger cousin, you know?

[dragonologist-phd]

man there’s Something about cleo putting in all this effort in act 5 to try and Be Better (TM) after giving up her demon powers, and how even though she didn’t really like the Hand she still scoured the whole prison and put in the extra effort to find his heart and try to save him...and it still doesn’t work. specifically because she wasn’t Good (TM) enough.

just Something about how she’s trying to move forward and put her mistakes behind her, but she can’t because she still has to deal with the consequences to those mistakes. idk but she and Arue are gonna have a lot to talk about

[byjillianmaria]

61%. Describe a scenario that has impacted your character and caused them extreme happiness. ✨

I'm going to go with Cleo for this one, if only because she's so gloomy usually LMAO

Cleo received her camera as a present for her fourteenth birthday. It was very much the energy of like... that scene in A Christmas Story, where she wanted it so bad but was more or less resigned to not getting it. The moment she opened it and saw what it was, she didn't know how to act. She couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day, and she and Noah immediately sat down to start planning the filming of their first movie! And Noah was making all of these big proclamations about how amazing it would be, and for once, she actually believed him. The surprise gift more or less stunned her self-doubt into submission for a night, and she felt like anything was possible.

[mater--suspiriorum]

My cat is such a goofy dum-dum but I love her

[live-free-get-fit]

My cramps are so bad I can't sleep, or sit still long enough for our nightly kitty cuddles. The cat is upset :(

[sandwich-armada]

The Finish Line: a N/H ficlet by me!

So... I may have written a thing.  Some of my buddies on Twitter were talking, and eloiserummaging said "Harry hops on a bike and does the last miles with him", and then an hour later I had this lil ficlet?  The first thing I've finished in ages? :D?

Thanks to eloise, lately, sunsetmog and thatjenn for looking this over and telling me to post it. Any remaining mistakes are all me.

This is not real, utterly untrue, and is going to be Jossed super hard on Monday anyway. If your name is Nick Grimshaw, do not not NOT read this fiction. This is Not For You. 

(also available on AO3)

******

Nick's got an hour and twenty-five minutes left on this fucking bicycle, and he's not going to make it.

The humid air of the inside of the box feels like it's burning the lining of his oesophagus as he gasps for air, his carefully-learned breathing techniques from the Professor gone completely out the window. He can feel the trembling weakness in his arms as he struggles to hold himself up, fingers going sweaty and swollen in his cycling gloves. His ankles feel fundamentally broken, his knees are shot through with agony, and he didn't know there was such a thing as the pain shooting like lightning bolts of sheer misery from his poor arse up the whole length of his spine.

He's been through denial, anger, bargaining, and a good solid chunk of depression, and he's come out the other side and accepted the fact that he is actually going to die here, on this bike, in front of all these people.

At least, Nick thinks (flashing back to the trembling of his fingers as he'd hit the send button in the middle of the night, the sickening swoop of his stomach when he'd woken up and seen the tell-tale 'Read' under the blue bubble where he'd poured his heart out, but no reply), he'll go to his grave having told the truth. Finally.

Somewhere beyond the horrible fugue state he's fallen into, Nick dimly registers a surge in the background noise of the crowd outside the box, and that someone is saying his name. He can barely find the breath for it, but he manages to grunt out a (probably quite rude-sounding) "What?" without bothering to raise his head up.

"Nick," Finchy repeats, his voice gone all weirdly gentle and encouraging; Nick had found it patronising an hour ago, but it's strangely nice right now, "Nicky, someone else is here to see you."

Nick is trying to fit enough air in his lungs to snap at Fincham that he's really done with being nice to people who are all fresh and quick and energetic whilst Nick's contemplating his own rapidly- approaching death, when a pair of very familiar looking trainers enter the very edge of his field of vision, and a voice from the very depths of Nick's own deepest, most desperate wishes says--

"Hiiiiii."

Nick didn't know he still had the energy left to snap his head up in surprise, but snap it up he does, and no. Nick's clearly losing his mind. No way. There is actually NO WAY this is really happening.

Harry grins at him, looking tanned and beautiful and so fucking real in the evening sunlight. "It's happening, Grimmy, you're not losing your mind." Which, okay, maybe Nick said those last couple of thoughts out loud by accident. What little brain-to-mouth filter he ever possessed has clearly evaporated.

"But," Nick pants out, "You're in LA right now." Probably one of the stupider things he's ever said, but whatever, he's got a right to be confused.

"Nope," Harry says, grinning - if possible - even wider, "Got on a plane about--" he checks his stupidly fancy (beautiful) watch, "-- ten hours ago. I was afraid I'd get stuck in traffic coming from Heathrow or summat, but it was all alright."

It's probably really silly that Nick's getting properly emotional listening to Harry's lovely, familiar, Northern vowels in person, right in front of him. Probably. They'd only talked on the phone last week, after all. Besides, Nick's confusion is winning out over his sappy feelings.

"Uh... but like. Weren't you supposed -- to be there, still? For a while?" Nick's not at his most coherent.

Harry's smile goes softer, somehow, like he's smiling just for Nick now. "Well, yeah, I've got to go back and finish up some stuff later in the week, but, um. You texted me, and like." He pauses, looks down for a second as he scuffs one of his feet on the floor, and looks back up, right into Nick's eyes, with this bashful, fierce joy written all over his face. "I just sort of. Got on the next flight."

Nick knows he must still be pedalling, body on some kind of autopilot, but he can't feel it right now. All he can feel is the wellspring of hope he'd kept buried deep down in his foolish heart suddenly bubbling up, overflowing into his chest like a geyser.

"So, I figured I could pop by and snag one of these other bikes, if that's alright with everyone," Harry continues, and Nick registers, really very belatedly, that Harry's wearing his running kit, jogging bottoms and an old t-shirt, hair tied back in a faded scarf and pulled into a tiny ponytail behind that.

"Fine by us," says Finchy, wandering back over from the corner of the box where he, Ian and Fifi have probably been pretending not to eavesdrop (and hanging onto every word), "You've signed all your waivers, so you're good to go." He raises an eyebrow at Nick. "What do you think, Grimmy?"

Nick is grinning like an idiot. He can feel it in his face, but cameras be damned, he just doesn't care right now. "Yeah, alright then, pop star," he says, breathless from far more than just the exercise now, "Hop on, let's bring this thing home."

Harry's grin could probably rival Nick's for idiocy as he heads for the bike right next to Nick's, and clambers aboard. He gives a little wave to the growing crowd of fans on the other side of the glass (whose already-loud cheering grows noticeably, immediately louder), and glances sideways at Nick with a look Nick can feel on his skin, as surely as if Harry had stroked him with his fingertips. Nick wants to kiss him more than anything he has ever wanted in his whole life. If he gets through the next hour and a quarter, he has a feeling that he might finally get to.

Nick takes a breath, feels it right to the tips of his toes.

"What do you think," he says, "Race you to the finish line?"

[sumtoystuff]

Not TOTALLY sure who she is ... still working on the story BUT she adds a nice punch of color to my collection!