(I'm stalking your tumblr oops) but Bev paints the rest of the loser club's nails (your choice on their colors) + theirs (and maybe others) reactions?
the six times Beverly painted her Losers nails and the one time they painted hers.
Beverly had been eagerly awaiting study hall, knowing she’d finally be able to chill outside and smoke for a while and maybe vent to Richie. She had her mind set on it all day and was biting into her cheek as she walked down the halls, tapping her fingers against her thigh to the beat coming from her Walkman.
‘Cause I’m T.N.T. I’m dynamite…T.N.T. and I’ll win the fight….T.N.T. I’m a power load…T.N.T. watch me explode-’
“Hey Bev, Richie’s home sick so he told me to bring this to you and keep you company.”
Beverly hopped back, she hadn’t even known she had made it past the doors yet and currently put a nasty grass stain on her converse. Her headphones fell around the base of her neck as she glanced down at Eddie holding out a cigarette. She took in the uncommon sight and smiled, sliding the stick from Eddie’s hand.
“Thanks buddy.” She went to flick her lighter as Eddie sat across from her at the table and decided against it. She stuffed the cig into her shirt pocket as AC/DC continued to play against the sweaty skin of her neck.
“You don’t have to not smoke cause I’m here…I could leave if you want-”
“Nah, we’ll find something better to do.” Beverly shrugged with a grin and started to dig through her bag. Eddie eyed her with suspicion. It wasn’t something that never happened but Eddie didn’t usually spend too much alone time with Bev.
Bev takes a few minutes but finds something interesting, a bottle of red nail polish and grins as she pulls it out of her bag filled with mounds of other crap. She unscrews it and twirls the brush in her hand before giving Eddie a wicked smile. “May I?” She practically begs.
Eddie swallows and reluctantly holds out his hand for her.
So Beverly spends her study hall a little differently than she’d expected she would’ve but the look on Eddie’s face when she’s done is probably the most precious thing she’s ever seen so she does not care at all. The boy wiggles his red nails and blows on them like she instructed him to. “You like them?” She asks and Eddie blushes slightly.
“yeah…Is that weird?” Eddie puts his hands down on the table, spreading his fingers and Bev feels her heart tug.
“No. not all, Eddie. You ever want to do it again, Tell me, yeah?” She re-screws the polish as the bell rings and helps Eddie put on his beg without ruining his nails, he smiles at her one last time before leaving.
“Bev my darling!” Richie cooed in some sort of British accent. Beverly glanced up from her yo-yo and gave him a smirk as he bopped down the way to the quarry area.
“You bring your yo-yo, Rich? Cause I’m really in the mood to destroy you today.” Bev mocked from her spot chilling against the rock, water falling the yo-yo from her fingertip.
”Aye that ain’t very lady like, you skirt.” Richie teased and she stuck out her tongue like a child as he began to feel up his pockets and sighed. “Oh crap, I forgot it.” He broke out of his British accent for a very normal Tozier expression.
Beverly hopped down from her cool stance with a smirk. “You dipshit.” She smacks his back and chucks her yo-yo back on her bag. “How am I suppose to spend time with you that doesn’t involve crushing you in a battle?”
Richie takes his turn to stick out his tongue and joined her to sit in the dirt. As they kept a very mild conversation up, Richie decided it was the best time to ask his lingering question he had for her. “Hey, did you paint Eddie’s nails the other day?” He pushed up his glasses as Bev glanced up from picking at her own polish.
“uh-huh.” She answered simply. “Why? want me to do yours?”
Richie cringed “What am I, your gal pal? No thanks.” He shook his head and Bev shrugged, opening her mouth to start a new conversation. “Though it really did light Eddie up like a Christmas tree.” Richie looked off in thought.
Bev smirked. “Yeah, it suits him I think….” She began to dig through her bag again, fishing for something. She looked up at Richie with a glint in her eye. “I have peach if you’re interested?” She asked in a sing-songy voice. Richie frowned. She dug out a new one.
“Ok Pink?” She waved the small bottle, Richie grinned.
“You know what they say, Go big or go home, am I right?” He smirked and slammed his fingers down on the rock for her.
“I’m gonna touch it-”
“Bev! You’re gonna scare her!!” Mike whisper shouted after a bounding Beverly Marsh, skipping directly over to a deer a couple feet away from them in the grass. He swayed like he might go after her for a few seconds before giving in and strolling over carefully.
Beverly was petting a deer. Petting a wild deer. Mike was astounded. This was better than the time Richie got chased by that pack of geese in the store parking lot. She gestured for him to come over and he nervously put his hand on the animal. Beverly cooed as she softly pet her.
“You’re actually Snow White.” Mike chuckled as they finally let the deer be. Beverly shrugged with a wide grin.
“I try my best.” She giggles as they start going back to the original task of walking to the small diner to meet their five friends. Mike was a little tingly with excitement from petting the deer, he looked down at his hand and noticed the growing dirt built up under his fingernails and sighed. Bev cocked her head to the side and he raised his hand to show her.
“This is what you get from working on a farm all day.” He shook his head and Bev giggled, reach back for the bag over her shoulder.
“I got something to fix that.”
Mike quirked his brow as he watched her dig through her messy bag.
“Blue or Purple?” She asked.
“Just pick your favorite.”
“Purple.” He shrugged and Bev grabbed his hand and they went over to a nearby bench. She put her bag between them as a makeshift table and laid Mikes hands flat. She stuck her tongue out in concentration and started painting a lilac shade over his nails.
“This ok?” She asked before moving to the next nail. Mike chuckled.
“Sure beats the dirt that was there before.” He urged her to keep going so Bev did as she was told with a salute.
When she finished up, she blew on them and brought them up to Mike’s face. “Thanks!” He smiled and they were back on their way to the diner.
“I think you’re all clean, Stanley.” Bev smiled genuinely and turned the sick off. She’d apologized twenty times over for messing up their chemistry projecting and causing the potion, as she called it, bubble over and spill all over Stan’s hands. He immediately became panicked and washed his hands more times than she could keep up with. She held out a paper towel for him with a guilty grin.
Stan smiled back and took it. “It’s fine, Bev. I didn’t mean to freak like that.” He sighed as he balled up the paper and tossed it.
“I know. I get it. I got carried away.” She chuckled as they were dismissed back to the regular classroom, leaving their class in the experiment room to finish without messing up and disrupting the class.
The pair sat down in the empty room and sighed. Stan kept looked down at his hands and scratching at them, leaving red lines over his skin and Beverly quickly laid her hands flat over his. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, Stan.” She frowned as he fidgeted.
“My skin itches…I feel like I didn’t get it all off or something.” He shook his hands and she gripped at them to keep him from scratching anymore.
“It’s all off Stan. If you want, I could keep your hands busy?” She offered, genuinely concerned and forgetting how weird that might sound. Stan looked at her with confusion so she smiled and pulled out a small bottle from her bag.
It was a small bottle of baby blue nail polish and she went to work, gently painting his nails to keep his mind of that itch. Stan couldn’t have been more grateful. He watched her work with amazement. She was really good at it. He wondered how anyone could paint such a tiny surface.
Once she finished, Stan had forgotten all about his panic and was simply observing her handiwork. “Thanks, Beverly..I really appreciate it.”
“No problem Stanley. anytime.” she saluted and poked his side.
“Look! I got it this time!” Beverly shouted as she tossed a popcorn kernel into the air and caught it in her mouth, smugly. Bill looked on from across their small table in the food court in the mall with minor amusement. She smiled and shrugged. “I thought it was cool. Next time I’m bringing Richie when I have a coupon.” She pouted and Bill chuckled.
“I-t-t was v-v-very cool Bev.” He reassured her and she kicked his leg from under the seat. “Have anymore s-s-secret talents?” He teased and she beamed, leaning down to throw open her bag.
“Actually, I do. And you’re next Denbrough.” Beverly chuckled and Bill took a nervous sip of his pop from the corner of his mouth. She pulled out a tiny bottle, shaking it with eagerness.
“Put your hand down.” She pointed and Bill did as she said, putting his hand flat on the table. Bill watched her un-cap the yellow bottle and begin painting his nails carefully. He wasn’t totally surprised, his friends had all slowly started appearing with colored nails. But Bill hadn’t really ever asked why.
She had to stop him from wiggling his fingers every few seconds as she did her second coat. “Ok….Yes, I love it.” She tapped his hands and put the bottle away.
“It is v-v-very p-p-pretty Bev but..”
“What?” She interrupted and sat back in her seat.
Bill looked down at his soft pretzel bites on the table and frowned. “H-h-how do I eat now?”
Beverly hiccuped into laughter. “I’ll get you a fork.” She launched herself out of her seat.
Beverly had her cheek flat against he desk, the prime position to make faces at Ben as he took his notes from across the room. He pretended not to notice at first, looking away quickly and blushing for a few seconds. But eventually, he gave in and started making faces back at her.
At the bell, she strolled over and they interlocked hands as they left the classroom behind to find their friends that were scattered in different places in the high school. She was cocking her head to look down the hall when she felt Ben tug her hand.
“Hmmm?” She asked. Ben gave her a shy smile and led her over to a bench. “What is it, you weenie?” She poked his side and Ben poked her back and gave her grin.
“I feel left out, you have to do mine now, they all have colored nails.” Ben wiggled his fingers for emphasis and Beverly laughed.
“Of course. Gimme your hands sweetie.” She laid his hands flat on her backpack like she’d done with Mike and picked out a color. It was a deep royal blue that she’d stashed just for him. She set off to work and gently painted as she’d done many times before.
She finished and smiled. “Better?”
“Much” He kissed her cheek and they started back to their task of finding their friends.
Ben and Bev found their friends all sat around a tree in the courtyard. She glanced down proudly at their nails. Enough time had passed that Richie’s were already chipping a bit. Though shockingly, Eddie’s and Stan’s were still pristine. She giggled and sat down in the grass.
“Are you proud?” Mike asked with a smirk that Beverly gladly returned.
“So proud.” She leaned her back on the tree.
Richie and Eddie’s hands were clasped together and Richie brought them up to everyone’s view. Their hands were interlocked, nails an aesthetically pleasing Red and Pink. “Eds and I look like Valentine’s Day threw up on us.”
“Eddie scrunched up his nose at the comparison and pinched him.
“I think it’s a good look for you guys.” She pointed her finger guns and Bill noticed her lack of polish and slowly began to smirk.
“L-l-lets return the favor!” Bill crawled over and everyone soon caught on to his plan. Stan dug through her bag and gave each Loser a color as Bev chuckled nervously.
“heh….Be careful you weenies!” She laughed as each boy tried to maneuver their brushes over her nails.
and that’s how Bev ended up with multicolored messy nails that she didn’t ever want to take off.
Pierretasha prompt: “Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle"
OOH OKAY I’M SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!!!! I haven’t really edited or anything, and I might come back to this. I hope you enjoy it!
Natasha loved her early morning walks with Pierre. The forests near their house were of an unmatched beauty– particularly in the early mornings gifted to them by the Autumn. The glow of the brilliant yellows and reds emanating from the treetops invited her in, called, her, begged her to be with them, be part of them, so she made sure that she was.
She used to make these walks alone whenever she needed time to herself, but now, more often than not, she brought Pierre with her. She found comfort in hearing the ground crunch beneath his sizable feet– for it was one of only a few sounds he tended to make on these walks.
Of course they loved speaking with each other; they spoke all the time at home, on errands, and at parties about all sorts of things; about family and friends, future plans, and each other. These walks were different. The couple had a mutual, unspoken understanding of the necessity of silence in these short ventures, deciding that they were not so bold as to try to silence nature with their conversation. Instead they listened to the busy morning happening around them– babbling brooks, the gentle rushing of the hoofed feet of deer as they fled human movement, the melodies of songbirds high above them drifting downwards to please their ears. Their abstinence from regular conversation provided a symphony of sound that would otherwise have been drowned out by words.
This was also the time for them to listen to each other, and really take notice of the splendor of the other. Pierre heard Natasha’s quiet, steady breath, her hands rubbing together for warmth, and the gentle cracking of her knuckles– a mindless habit that had grown from her childhood anxieties. Natasha heard Pierre’s knees clicking, the sudden scratching of his nails on the nape of his neck, and a quiet yawn every now and again– a result of their early rising. Each time they studied each other in this way, they fell even more in love.
On this day, however, their walk was cut short, as a yelp travelled quickly from Natasha’s mouth to Pierre’s ears.
Pierre rushed to her.
Natasha’s foot had hooked on a tree root, which had cleverly hidden itself beneath a bed of leaves.
“I’m fine Pierre I’m–I’m alright”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Without thinking, Pierre placed his arms underneath Natasha and lifted her with ease.
“Petrushka,” she said in a soothing voice, “Please, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m taking you back.”
“Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle.”
He looked at her, and begrudgingly placed her back onto the ground. After putting slight pressure on her foot, Natasha yelped again. Pierre immediately swooped her up into his arms.
“I will let you protest the whole way home, alright?”
“No, no… carry me home if you must.” She huffed. Pierre chuckled, though the nervous look on his face remained with him.
Though she felt aching and pulsing in her ankle, she found she could not be entirely angry while Pierre was carrying her. He felt his heavy breathing warm on her face, a sensation that brought her pleasure, as did the warmth of the rest of her husband’s body. She liked having him so near, and was upset that the circumstances of their closeness were not what she would rather they be.
As they approached the house, Pierre called on one of the doormen.
“I’m going to take her upstairs, can you call on the doctor to come as quickly as possible?”
“Please,” he said, looking directly at the doorman. He knew his wife’s looks were far too persuasive.
“There’s no need for all of this fuss.“
“It could be broken. If it is, it must be taken care of. Please, humor your panic-prone husband.”
Natasha huffed, though she really was quite enamored with how much her husband cared for her.
After awhile, the doctor appeared in the front hall. Pierre lead him to their room, and the doctor stopped him at the door.
“You said she fell down fairly hard?”
“Well then, just in case there are any other injuries, I will do a full examination. Please try to be patient.” He noticed the nervous look on Pierre’s face, a look of nervousness that came to it when any small harm had come to his loved ones.
“She will be fine, my boy.”
After awhile, the doctor reemerged, and looked at Pierre, shaking his head.
“What?” Pierre snapped, his nerves getting the best of him.
“Well,” the doctor said, “In regard to her ankle, she’ll be fine, but she’ll have to keep it elevated for a few days. No walking whatsoever.”
“As for the rest of her health…” a grin began to hint at the corners of his mouth. “Well… I suggest you speak to your wife about that matter, Count Bezukhov.”
Pierre looked at him, confused.
“But…but does that mean there something else wrong? What? What is it? Please.”
“Speak to your wife, count.”
The doctor gave him a firm squeeze on the shoulder, and walked past him, leaving him alone in the hall. Pierre took a deep breath, and entered the room.
Natasha looked at him, and Pierre immediately noticed the tears streaming down her face. A great bolt of fear struck him at his very core.
“Tasha…darling what is it?”
She remained silent. His own tears began to flow.
“Natasha. Please. Are you alright? What did he say?”
“Well, he told me that my ankle will be fine, to be sure.”
“He told me that as well, but… he said there was something else. He told me to…to ask you… to speak to you.”
He took another deep breath.
“Tasha what is it?”
Natasha began to smile.
“Who.” She stated simply.
“Who is it.”
“Natasha, what are you–”
“I’m going to have baby, Petrushka.”
Pierre exhaled sharply. They sat in silence, and Natasha watched as a shocked look cemented itself on Pierre’s face.
“A…a baby. My baby? Our…”
“Our baby. You’re going to be a papa Petrushka. A wonderful, wonderful papa.”
Immediately, Pierre pulled his wife into a tight embrace, his tears uncontrollable now. He held her for a long time, cradling her head and occasionally pulling back to kiss her face rapidly, fiercely. It was an action which caused Natasha to giggle with a radiant joy. After a while, he placed his forehead on hers.
“We’re going to be a family, Tasha.” He relished the thought. Natasha Rostova, their child, and him. It was once unimaginable. Now, it was reality.
Natasha leaned up to kiss him. She let out a soft laugh, a laugh of contentment. He had never known such happiness before.
The scent of blood assaulted Rosalie’s nose,
tearing her attention away from the deer carcass at her feet. She took off
towards the scent, fueled by both curiosity and the thirst that started to
flare up in her throat.
“Fear is your greatest obstacle to learn but fear is your best friend. Fear is like fire, if you learn to control it you let it work for you. if don’t learn to control it: it will destroy you and everything around you. like a snowball on a hill, you can pick it up and throw it or do anything you want with it before it starts rolling down hill, but once it rolls down: it gets so big,it will crush you to death. So one must never allow fear to develop and build up without having control over it because if you don’t you won’t be able achieve your objective or save your life……Consider a deer crossing an open field; on approaching the forest, instinct tells it there is danger there. Might be a mountain lion there! Once this happens, nature begins its survival functions with the adrenal glands injecting into the bloodstream causing the heart to beat faster which, in turn, enables the body to perform extraordinary feats of agility and strength. Where normally the Deer can jump 15 feet, the adrenaline enables the first leap to 40 or 50 feet: enough to escape from the present danger. The human being is no different…..” listen to more of Cus D'Amato’s fighting philosophy
Shikamaru stumbles forward so violently, the front of his shoes catching on what he thinks amounts to little more than a pebble, but his misstep is so careless, he is barely able to catch himself before he lands face first in the dirt below him.
The worst part is, he’d been looking directly at the rock buried in the ground, making hazy note to avoid it, when he’d walked right into the thing.
“God,” Temari drawls, paused a step ahead of him now. “You’re such a fucking mess.”
MARAUDERS ERA : James and Lily at Godric’s Hollow. She was scared. She was scared all the time. She was scared to lose James, or Harry, or both. She was scared to lose Sirius or Remus or Peter, because she would lose a part of James too. Lily couldn’t sleep without being haunted by the vision of a dying deer at her feet. And James… James was no longer the man she married. He was no longer that joyful, light-minded person. None of them was anymore, and she still loved him anyway. But he was always obsessed, anxious with every noise, with everything. She asked herself once if Harry’s cries weren’t part even of James’ anxiety too. The fear of Him hearing them. “What if we can’t just be James and Lily anymore?” she heard him saying once. “Look, Prongs, you two will always be James and Lily. Always. No matter what happens” Sirius said. She would have been grateful to Sirius for reassuring James, if only their conversations were not deliberately hidden from her. The news from the Order were rarer than before, and she started to suspect them – James and Sirius, they didn’t have much visitors other than him and sometimes Remus, mostly through the fireplace – of hiding some facts from her to not worry her, when she was still pregnant. She was angrier than sad. She was not that precious and tiny little thing, she never was.
Sophie Turner as Lily Evans // Ben Barnes as Sirius Black // Aaron Taylor-Johnson as James Potter. (part 1 and part 2)
She crosses her feet, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and lifting herself onto her tip-toes. Spinning and then grounding herself, Arya brings Needle before her, slowly slashing across her body, right to left and over her head. She steps back and back again, Needle flowing smoothly from one hand to the other.
Quick as a snake.
Stepping forward, she pierces the air with Needle’s sharp point. Again and again. Her grip is light as she turns Needle in her palm. She swings it gracefully over her head before tossing it just so to her other hand. In her mind, the fluidity of her dance has caught her invisible enemy by surprise.
Calm as still water.
Arya takes a step back and pivots, back and pivots, back and pivots. Her one arm tucked behind her back, and her sword arm steady. With the next move, she easily kneels, one knee up and the other upon the ground. When she rises again, it is with some struggle, but that is only to be expected.
The first time Dean went on a date with Cas, Meg tagged along. And being the impossibly nice guy that he is, Cas wouldn’t tell Meg to buzz off. But, it was just a trip to the arcade, and Meg was much better at the driving games than Cas, so it wasn’t so bad having some real competition. They pooled all their tickets together at the end of the night and Meg got a cheap necklace with an angel pendant that turned her skin green, Dean got a rainbow slinky that unkinked after three uses, and Castiel got a small stuffed cartoony bee that still sat on his desk next to his laptop at home.
The second time Meg went on a date with Cas, Dean butted in his stupid, crooked nose. They’d gone ice skating, and Dean was the one who had gotten them the discount on skates since his hockey team regularly used the rink, so she supposed she couldn’t really complain that he’d hung out with them. But seriously, couldn’t the guy take a hint? When she’d held Cas’ hand and asked him to help keep her steady, Dean had reached for Cas’ other hand and said that since he was the better skater, he’d help them all. She’d had more fun than she thought she would on an ice skating date with a third wheel, but that was beside the point. Cas kept the novelty mug the three of them had gotten their giant hot chocolate in and set his stuffed bee in it next to his laptop.
The third time Dean went on a date with Cas, Meg was there with her whiny, totally not sexy voice complaining that Dean should go find somewhere else to sit in the movie theater. Dean pointed out that it was a freaking drive-in theater and they were using his car. She’d rolled her eyes and told him they were out of popcorn. They were, but he refused to leave her alone with Cas for even five minutes. Who knows what she might do. Cas kept the ticket stub from the movie and propped it up in the bee’s arms where it sat in the mug next to his laptop.
The fourth time Meg went on a date with Cas, Dean Winchester was seriously on her last nerve. Cas had suggested they take a hike in the woods and Winchester’s stupid peanut M&M’s was why they wound up huddling anxiously in a deer stand twenty feet off the ground while a small black bear snuffled through the ground looking for any candy he had missed. While they waited, Cas made a small circlet out of moss and dried leaves. When they were finally able to climb down and run home, Castiel put the circlet like a crown around the bee’s head.
The fifth time Dean and Meg attempted to go on a date with Cas, there was a reckoning on the Novaks’ doorstep. Castiel eventually got them to shut up and come inside so that they could at least fight in his bedroom rather than on his front porch where everybody could see and most definitely hear them. Castiel sat them down on his bed, drew up the chair from his desk, and sat in front of them. He clasped his hands in his lap.