#He loves her so much. like it’s whenever whatever

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can't tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you'd like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy's eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him. But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you're off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you've been on my mind for months—years, if I'm being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. So much closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door."

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[hitomisuzuya]

Secret admirer+neighbour reader that allows Scara to stay over in her room whenever shit gets rowdy at his home for whatever reason. She leaves letters of encouragement in his locker and snacks and stuff. He found it stupid at first but gave up 'reluctantly'.

But like, pls, he knows it's her. The way she looks at him, hopefully, every time he scowls a certain way, he gets a more expensive snack (within the budget of a little middle-class lady, of course), and he starts liking her a bit too...

And anyway, they get into a cute little confrontation when she cares about him a little too much, with a bit too much honesty with the cutest outfit and he's turned on and- you get the idea.

Please, praise kink. Praise my hubby🥺🥺 maybe a bit of degrading from him.

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with some plot. fluff. degradation. praise for scara. cunnilingus. for narrative purposes, college has lockers for people who live off campus.

i grinned when i read this ask. legit scaramouche would fall in love kicking and screaming reluctantly about it the whole time🤣 this is a little long.

if scaramouche had it his way, he would've chosen to live on campus at the dorms. but no, being so close to the college made his bitch mother suggest he might be more comfortable just living at home. incidentally, it was over just that issue that you meant scaramouche officially for the first time.

you swore he slammed the door loud enough to rattle to every window of his house. and yours. naturally, it startled you, being out on the porch looking at the orange and purple painted clouds of the sunset. you'd seen him around campus before, but social anxiety often came into play. and he sort of treated you like a nuisance when you tried to talk to him.

"you okay?" you asked, giving him a soft look of concern.

"huh? do you need something?" scaramouche snapped, glaring at you in a way that would've made anyone instantly fuck off.

anyone wasn't you, though. "no, it just sounds like you were fighting with someone," you replied, his glare making your cheeks flush.

"yeah, bitch mother," it was like he didn't want to dedicate the extra few seconds of time to string together a longer sentence to mention her in.

"you can come hang out with me in my room for awhile until things cool down. no one is home right now but me," you said shyly, playing with your hair in an annoying way he absolutely couldn't miss.

"uh, sure. yeah whatever, gimme a few minutes," scaramouche grumbled, turning to go back inside the house. back inside to tell his mother to fuck off one more time. he was automatically suspicious. why were you offering? what did you stand to gain from it?

he thought about these questions while he unplugged (ripped the cords out of the outlet) his xbox, and slammed the door again. threw the door to your house open, and sort of stomped up the stairs. he promptly hooked his xbox up to your tv like he was automatically entitled to it.

but you didn't mind. scaramouche always made you feel weak in the knees. you even got him to tell you what he wanted for dinner so you could make it for him.

this became almost something of a daily occurrence. an occurrence that scaramouche was startled to find how comfortable he was becoming with.

you sure are a strange one. you even sat and watched him play video games late into the night, monopolizing your tv and not really giving a shit if there was something you wanted to watch. you never said a thing if there was. dvrs exist, after all. you would cheer him on and praise him when he was playing good. you looked stuff up on your phone to help him if he got stuck on a part somewhere.

you would remind him about tests tomorrow. he told you whatever and ended up not studying. he didn't really need to honestly. thing is, though, you started leaving notes of encouragement tucked into his folders or notebooks. or left them in his locker with some sort of disgusting sweet treat. "for you to enjoy now or later. it's up to you. good luck today."

he thought it was incredibly stupid. what could you possibly gain from this nonsense? "i don't like sweets," he said, tossing a baggie of oreos on your desk. "disgusting. absolutely no thanks."

your posture stiffened a little, like you'd just been caught red handed doing something secretive. in a way, you had been. "wh-what are you talking about?" you stammered shyly, "who left you those?" you paused for a moment, twisting lock of hair around your index finger. "incidentally, what would you want for something like that?"

scaramouche almost snorted. god, you are so transparent. he knew it was you, but you are still trying to play it off like it wasn't, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. it was disgustingly adorable so he let you carry on with it in his own way. stop it.

"salted rice balls with sea weed in the middle. i like those, not the toxic waste that is chocolate. or rather horse shit," he replied, rolling his eyes.

sure enough, a few days later, salted white rice balls with seaweed in the middle appeared in his locker the next morning. "please, eat these. sorry about before. you try so hard and deserve a good treat."

fuck, fuck, fuck!

he was starting to tuck your notes into his pockets to keep with him throughout the day. some of the snacks you make him looked expensive. and you were the type to buy the ingredients and hand make them yourself. you had to have been getting up super early in the morning to make them or staying up late the night before.

and every time he called you out on it, you shyly played it off. even joking with him about him having a secret admirer, though he swore you looked a little sad at the thought of someone else liking him like you weren't talking about yourself.

even worse, scaramouche started looking at you and thinking; shit, she looks really cute today. those are thigh highs she's wearing cup her thighs perfectly. it makes me wanna..

he'd had enough when he started jacking himself off after he left your house for the night. thinking of you, the innocent girl next door who doted on him and gave him attention. who is way too sweet for her own good. with this stupid crush on him that you refused to say anything about.

how dare you make him fall in love.

you started wearing thigh highs when he mentioned casually he likes them, tempting him with a garter belt. a garter that his eyes strained to casually get a peek at if the pleats of your skirt bounced in just the right way.

he caught you on your way out the door to go the convenience/grocery store that stayed open all night, a list of ingredients and a recipe in your hand to read on the way.

"why do you do this nonsense?" scaramouche asked, snatching the slip of paper out of your hand. he couldn't help but smirk. just like he thought, there was a recipe for rice balls with eel in them and miso soup. you were even going to stop by the coffee shop and get his favorite coffee.

...

fucking hell, you are way too sweet for your own good but damn it, he enjoyed soaking up every bit of your attention now. his bitch mother even "accused" him of dating someone a few days ago. the nerve!

"i..i." you stammered shyly in a way that made him want to kiss you. really really badly. you knew you were caught. "was i that obvious?"

scaramouche snorted. "you are so obvious that you could've landed plane without waving your arms. it was actually a little pathetic," he sighed seeing your reaction. why did you do that? why did your cheeks flush when he flat out insulted you?

and that was how you ended up on your back on his bed, your legs spread and stripped almost entirely of your clothes as he crawled between your legs. "these stay on," he insisted, hooking his finger under the top of your thigh high, letting it snap back on your thigh. he'd angrily kissed you all the way up to his room, pawing at your clothes and swallowing your moans into his mouth.

you always took care of him in your room. and now he was taking care of you properly in his room. it was a chore to fight his pride, anyways. and he didn't want to fight it anymore.

having his hands holding your thighs apart while he licked slow, hungry stripes up and down your pussy was much more preferable. "desperation is good color on you, slut," he groaned, teasingly kitten licking your clit before sweeping it down to swirl around your hole. youclenched on the tip of his tongue like he imagined that you would.

"i..i can't help it," you moan shakily, squirming as you grind on his mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm so in love you with it hurts. i just..just," you are cut off when scaramouche latched his lips around your clit, letting out a gasp of pleasure. your clit tingled and throbbed as he sucked, prodding and swirling his tongue in a way that made a dizzying warmth spread through your core. "i wanted your attention."

you sound so fucking cute it made his cock ache almost painfully. did you have any idea how unbearable you made it all the fucking time? "i saw right through your pathetic attempts to woe me. praise me more, slut. it's making me hard," he groaned, drunk on the taste on your pussy soaking his tongue.

he held your pussy against his mouth as you grinded on his tongue, your fingers finding his hair and pushing his mouth down. "you are perfect, scara!" you cry out, your clit throbbing twice as hard underneath his tongue. "your tongue feels so good! you are all i ever think about!"

he could edge himself on your words praise, soaking up every word. "go on. keep going while i tongue fuck you," he moaned, focusing his tongue on your clit again.

his tongue working your pussy over like a starved animal was making you start to babble nonsense. "your so smart, and handsome and strong. your fingers are beautiful, so beautiful i want to suck on them. don't stop, please. please," you have the cutest sounding whimpers when the jolts of pleasure rocketing through you were too much for you to process.

your precious babbling spurred scaramouche's tongue on, one hand reluctantly leaving your thigh to palm and rub his cock outside his jeans. you deserve to cum hard on his tongue for sounding so sweet.

you twitch and spasm in bliss, tugging urgently on his hair. your hips bucked up to rub and grind on his mouth. you writhed on the bed, relaxing into his possessive squeeze on your thighs. it wasn't long before you couldn't keep it together anymore. or at least as together as you thought you had it. you'd broken on his tongue a long time ago.

you whimper weakly behind your shameless moans, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you. it was so strong it nearly even made your fingers fall limp in his hair. his tongue lovingly fucked you through your orgasm until you were panting and shaking on the cusps of overstimulation. he lapped at your release.

"i think i found the only sweet i will enjoy," satisfied, he sat up and wiped his mouth. you are practically passed out on his bed, exhausted and overloaded. neither of you were making it to your evening classes. he planned to spend that time further devouring you once he let you sleep a little.

[scottofchromia]

Scott is kind of silent the whole time, listening to the man ramble and show him where things are, taking in the cozy, homey feeling of Jimmy’s home. He’s never seen, or been anywhere like it, and the feeling of needing to see it more is heady. The arm Jimmy puts around her waist is warm and strong, the thought makes Scott’s face flush a soft pink colour. There’s something… new, bubbling in his chest, an emotion? A feeling? Something Scott’s never experienced before dances around his chest, casting rays like the desert sun in his heart. This new thing is… maybe the best thing she’s ever felt in her life. Like being cared for perhaps, or loved, or maybe even wanted, it’s a mix of all of those things and more she decides. Mulling it over as Jimmy talks. Scott doesn’t know what this is, but it’s something she’d like to experience everyday. He can just picture it:

(Scott sighs as she lands on the doorstep of their home. It had been a long day out in the fields and he was ready to relax with his boyfriend, fiancée, husband. They had lived together for a couple of years now and both of their empires were doing better than ever.

Scott smiles as he enters their home, the heavy scent of spice in the air from whatever Jimmy had decided he wanted to make for dinner. It had come as a wonderful surprise that Jimmy was an incredible cook, he’d made her her first ever home cooked meal right here after they’d first gotten together.

“Sweetheart? I’m home,” he calls a little wearily as he hangs his coat and hat next to Jimmy’s own, as well as taking off his boots and setting those next to his husband’s as well.

Scott immediately brightens at the sight of his sheriff coming to greet him from the kitchen. Jimmy’s blonde curls were messy with the days work and his sheriff’s hat, and there’s a little bit of flour on his cheekbone from whatever he had been cooking, all matched with a loving smile and adoring eyes.

“Hey darlin’, welcome home,” he greets, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a quick kiss, “How was everythin’ out in Chromia?”

The half-elf hums with the affection, “It’s alright handsome, happy to be home with you though. How was work here? Get that new home built? I swear you’re gonna need to stop building this stuff yourself soon, Tumble Town’s just getting too big,” he laughs.

“It was what it was, n’ you can keep sayin’ it but I ain’t gon’ stop. I like the work too much, beats out paperwork any day,” he makes a face at the end.

“You’re such a drama king,” Scott giggles.

Jimmy’s arms tighten around his waist and Scott melts into it with a pleased sound. She lays her head on his chest as her eyes flutter closed, soaking in the steady descent to relaxation. That is until Jimmy pulls away, “Ji-”

“Mm nm, no protests sugar, I gotta make sure our dinner don’t burn. I’ll hold you all you want after we eat, promise.”

Scott whines but lets him lead her by the waist into the kitchen anyways. There’s new photos alongside the originals, from their wedding mainly, but also some other special occasions.

She flops into a dining chair and pouts as Jimmy pulls away completely to continue cooking. “So unfair,” he says playfully, laying his head on his arms as he watches his husband in one of his many elements.

“N’ I’m the dramatic one,” Jimmy shakes his head at his husband’s antics. Years ago he would’ve never thought this possible, that Scott would settle down and give in to her wildest dreams of staying. Jimmy is so glad he did though.

As he stirs the pot of chili, his wedding band catches the light, Jimmy always gets so soft whenever he looks at it. It’s a simple thing, neither of them had wanted something flashy, but it was more than perfect.

“We both are, it’s part of the reason you love me so much?”

He turns to make eye contact with Scott, adoring cyan meeting exasperatedly fond brown, “It is darlin’, I love you very much.”

“I know you do, I love you too Jimmy.”

Whatever his husband was cooking smelled wonderful and familiar. He’d eat whatever it was as usual, even if it were poisone, (No matter how much her saying that messed with her partner) she knows he’d never do that, she still means it all the same.

Time passes with a syrupy-goldenness as Scott lays at the table, his eyelids droopy with a sudden over-tiredness. He gives a small yawn and lets the feeling take over, there isn’t really another option when he’s as relaxed as he is. So with the noise of her partner’s movements in the background, Scott drifts into a wonderful, dreamless, sleep.

When Scott wakes up, it’s to a hand in her hair and Jimmy crouched in front of her, “Hey doll, tired?” Jimmy asks softly once he notices Scott is awake.

“Mhm, sorry, I didn’t mean-” he’s cut off by a yawn, “I didn’t mean to.” She blinks slowly, steadily coming back to the waking world.

“No apologies Scottie, we’ll go have a lie down after dinner and a shower, m’kay?”

“Yes please.”

“Good. You go wash up now darlin’, dinner’ll be done in ten minutes,” he presses a kiss to Scott’s head and goes back to the kitchen.

Scott groans and stretches as he sits up, sometimes he wishes Jimmy was slightly less caring of a husband and would just carry her upstairs to sleep for the night. Alas, he wasn’t, and it was one of the many things he loved about the man.

Scott gets up and walks drowsily into the bathroom, taking in his appearance in the mirror once he’s at the sink.

He’s much chubbier than when they first got together. She used to be a stick, bones peaking through skin if it weren’t for the muscle he’d garnered as adventurer and builder, but now he has a small muffin top and love handles, and Jimmy loves it, so he couldn’t even really be upset with the change. Not that she was, he still thinks he looks damn good.

There had been other changes too, cosmetic ones. Under his clothes lie a couple of newer tattoos drawn by Jimmy, mostly flowers and stars that meant something of their relationship, like the additions to his back piece of the Altair and Vega constellations: the story of a star goddess who fell in love with a mortal. It had ended in tragedy but on one of their first dates Jimmy had told Scott they were like that, just without the tragedy. He’d gotten the tattoo after their engagement.

The other big change to Scott was her full chest, a development that had occurred with the years of being on HRT.

He remembers so fondly the day she’d been gifted her first bra by Shelby and Katherine, and then subsequently cried over it.

Scott shakes his head of memory lane and starts running the sink, splashing his face with water in a bid to wake herself up more. It works thankfully and he begins to wash his hands, she’d never ‘washed up’ for dinner before Jimmy, it was nice.

Scott re-enters the kitchen to set the table, giving Jimmy a quick, passing kiss to the cheek. Whatever he was making looked good, “Hey pretty boy. What’cha cooking?” She asks as she grabs bowls and spoons.

“Chili con carne n’ cornbread, that sound good?”

“Sounds great, but you know I’ll eat anything you make Jim.” After setting the placemats and dining ware, he fills two glasses with ice water and grabs small plates for the bread.

Finishing with the table, Scott rejoins his partner in the kitchen and wraps her arms around him; plastering herself to his back.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greets her. “You sure you’re doin’ okay pretty thing? You ain’t usually so clingy or tired, not that that’s a problem or nothin’, I’m just worried,” Jimmy rambles a little as he grabs one of her hands in his and squeezes.

“Mmm, I promise I’m fine dearest, just a long day; and you always make me feel so comfortable,” he mumbles against his back.

“Well as long you’re promisin’, then I guess it’s fine,” he placates fondly.

“I do promise. You always take such good care of me love.”

A couple more minutes pass in silence and syrupy slowness before Jimmy speaks again, “M’kay, you go’ta let go now sweet pea. Dinners done and I wanna get you to bed soon.”

Scott nods and does as told, not usually his style but dinner smelled great and the promise of bed was divine.

As he waits for his partner to serve dinner like he always does, she contemplates just how was nice this little routine of theirs is. It’s something Scott can look forward to everyday without fail, and that was another concept he had had to learn, steady expectation.

With chili now in their bowls, the two of them dig in. Dinner was usually passed in quiet aside from the clinking of silverware and glasses on wood and tonight was no different. The chili was as delicious as it always was, the perfect blend of spice and general warmth. It only served to make the both of them more tired, finally winding down for the day in the company of their person.

Once they’ve finished, Scott quickly takes their plates to the sink to wash, it was always a race to see who could get to it first; and usually, it was Jimmy, who always finishes eating before she does. He guesses her husband hadn’t been expecting it from him today. His mistake.

Scott turns on the tap and rolls up his sleeves, quickly and thoroughly washing their dishes; that is until he’s distracted by arms around her waist and a head burying in her hair.

“Could’a let me do that, you’re tired darlin’,” Jimmy murmurs.

“So are you sweetheart, you can’t hide that kinda thing from me. Besides, you always wash the dishes after dinner, let me do it today,” he says like he isn’t almost done already.

Jimmy’s arms tighten around Scott in appreciation, and they stay like that while he finishes up, much like they’d done with dinner earlier, just the other way around now.

Scott turns in Jimmy’s arms and looks up at him with an adoring smile. “Shower time?” He asks sweetly, now done with his task.

Instead of a response Jimmy pulls back and scoops Scott into his arms with a cheeky grin. “Your wish is my command little lady!” He adds, unable to help himself from more dramatics.

Scott giggles at his husband’s antics and lays her head on his chest. “You dramatic dork,” he continues to giggle.

Jimmy presses a kiss to her hair and walks in the direction of the bathroom, “You love it, don’ lie,” he laughs along with her, entering the space and placing Scott on the counter while he busies himself with grabbing towels and briefly leaving to get clothes for them both.

Scott hums the tune of Boreas, swinging his legs back and forth, once again reminiscing. This time, it’s of late mornings spent dancing in the kitchen to vinyl records. That is until he’s pulled back into the moment by Jimmy tripping and giving him a sheepish smile as he starts the shower.

Scott levees his husband with another achingly fond look as he rejoins her at the counter, taking and squeezing at her hips for a moment before pressing a short and sweet kiss to her lips.

It goes unspoken as Jimmy pulls away, but after he pulls Scott off the counter they begin to help each other undress. It’s a simple comfort the two of them can enjoy, the feeling of their partner’s caring hands on their bodies as they shuck their clothes and admire the view.

The room quickly fills with steam from the hot shower, beckoning tired bodies into its warm embrace. Scott and Jimmy join hands and step into the small shower.

Upon entering the stream of water Jimmy and Scott simultaneously give a relaxed sigh, giving each other a loving look of familiarity that can only come from years of being together, before they share another kiss.

It lasts for longer than it probably should when they’re both bone tired and ready for sleep. But as the lovers embrace they find they can’t care less about hurrying their shower along. Losing themselves in each other like they always do.

When Jimmy and Scott separate from the kiss, they take a moment to cling to each other. All of the tension bleeding from their bodies as they soak in the hot shower. It is honey-golden just as it always is but eventually they do separate at wash their bodies.

About five minutes later and Scott reached out for the shampoo to wash her hair before Jimmy bats his hands away, “I’m gonna do that sugar, you just relax m’kay?”

Scott doesn’t protest, doesn’t want to really. He always loves the way it feels when Jimmy washes her long curls which reach all the way to the tippy top of her thighs. Only being cut every few months of dead ends. It was a pain most days but he loved is long hair more than anything and, well, her husband was always more than happy to help her take care of it. Whether that was brushing it during a slow morning, or braiding it for him, or like right now, washing it. He was more grateful than any words could ever describe for this man. How he had gotten so very lucky he would never know, Jimmy was a blessing. Plucked right from a fairytale and sent to make him feel so many emotions he’d never gotten the chance to experience before.

Their shower finishes soon after with Scott returning the favour of washing Jimmy’s hair for him. They step out feeling refreshed and more than ready for bed.

After they put on their pyjamas, one of Jimmy’s oversized shirts for Scott and lounge pants for him, Jimmy pulls Scott back into a bridal carry. Taking her to their bedroom and laying him on their bed.

“I’ll be right back darlin’,” he kisses Scott’s forehead and leaves the room.

A confused, but tender and sleepy expression takes over Scott’s face as he waits for his husband to return. Trying not to fall asleep with the cushy pillows under him and the soft blanket over his legs.

When Jimmy does return a handful of minutes later, it’s with two mugs in hand. He places them on the closest nightstand and goes back to shut the door and turn the lights off.

When he comes back for the final time he’s lit only by the soft yellow light of the lamp on the aforementioned nightstand. He climbs in bed and pulls Scott into his arms, handing her a mug and taking one of his own with another kiss to her head.

Scott smells the warm drink and with soft eyes and parted lips he speaks a soft, “Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you, you truly are the perfect husband.” He takes a sip and lays his head on Jimmy’s chest. Happily curling against the blonde with nothing but pure and utter love swirling in his chest. Jimmy had made chamomile tea for them. Scott’s favourite.

“You’re very welcome my love, you’re more perfect though,” he says as he takes a swig of his own tea, smiling at the subtle sweetness.

“Not possible.” Scott quips back; letting out a fluttery little sigh as one of Jimmy’s large, rough, hands finds its way into her still wet curls.

Neither say anything else as they lay together and finish their tea. Finally, after a long day, Jimmy plucks the mug from her weakening hands, turns out the lamp, and lays them both down.

“Goodnight darlin’,” Jimmy whispers in the dark of their bedroom.

“Goodnight dearest,” she whispers back.

They both fallen asleep soon after, hearts beating in time.)

Scott flushes brightly and covers his the lower part of his face with a hand. He’d never considered being married before in his life! What was wrong with her?

She snaps back to herself as Jimmy shuts the door and says he’s going to cook dinner.

Scott rolls his eyes and opens the door again. “You can’t get away from me that easily,” he says as he throws his arms around Jimmy’s neck. “I think that extra tooth brush might need to stay here on your counter in case I need it again, that okay?” she giggles softly, wanting to make her incredible daydream a reality. His voice as he continues speaking is softer than Jimmy’s ever heard her sound; though there’s a nervous lilt to the line of questioning, “Come back to help with my hair please? Unless you don’t want to of course. It’s up to you, in the end. I won’t push if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

Jimmy has him wrapped around his fingers and she doesn’t even think he knows that. What Scott would do or say for him if he so much as asked.

Staying was still terrifying to think about, but she’d always loved diving head first into the unknown. Forever an adventurer at heart.

Scott lands in Tumble Town hair windswept from flight but still intact in its usual long braid.

“Oh, Jimmy!” He calls flirtatiously.

-@scottofchromia

Jimmy takes a deep, nervous breath, plastering a smile on his face. The muscles in his face are more string than proper connective tissue, end up in more of an awkward grin.

“Hey, darlin’. How was the flight over?’

His tone is confident, disguising the panic at seeing a pretty boy. Sue him, he’s a cowboy- of course he’s gay.

[amoural]

oooughhhhhhhhhh everyone editing the ep7 poseidon and sally scene with sandman’s “you came, you called” audio OUAGHHHHHHH im sleeping on the highway tonight SO bad

[antigonesghosts]

What I loved about Cinderella's Castle is it is so entirely about Ella. We know starkid can handle a show with tons and tons of characters but I found it quite refreshing for it to be so wholly her story? I think it was a lovely choice for this show and man Bryce did such a perfect job of it, she is truly such a star

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Hiii everyone, say, how do your Hawkes go go about sharing their estate? If they do it at all? Is everyone free to come and go or are they more private? Or do they only invite their LI to stay? I'm curious!! :)

[thehighlordofspring]

They lay back on the same bed and Tamlin closed his eyes. He truly was exhausted. Her weight on his chest was solid and comforting. It anchored him to reality.

“Wealth…riches.” He muttered. “Neither of those things have ever mattered to me.”

Whenever she mentioned Hybern, Tamlin became more and more aware that it was a blank spot in his memory. Everything that happened there hurt so badly that remembering her rescue was not something he’d ever prioritized — not when his heart was still so terribly broken over his mate choosing her other one. Everything he’d done in that war was a result of love, desperation, and spurned affections.

He did not like to think about it. The relaxation in his limbs retreated and he flinched. “Please don’t.”

“Talk about it. Hybern, I mean.” Tamlin swallowed, pushing away some of his most painful memories. “I just — I can’t.”

If she wanted his honesty, his all — she had to understand the trip wires laced around his heart.

Tamlin rubbed his temples and the brief silence did nothing to soothe the fresh ache in his chest. She did, though. He shuddered and buried his face in her neck, asking for whatever comfort she could give him.

He’d always wanted to be a husband, but that word was still not easy to hear. A shadow of exhaustion passed over his eyes. He twisted his mother’s ring on his left hand. Its return felt like a piece of her that he could carry anywhere.

“Thank you for finding it.” Tamlin whispered, pressing his lips to her closed eyes and blowing the candle out. “I cannot say how much…”

His head hit the pillow, which they now shared. It means to me.

Tied Together With A Smile | Tamlin & Briar

@thehighlordofspring

Hours pass, and Briar gets to play with Caedin for a while among signing paperwork. Once one of the friendly workers takes him away for bedtime, her heart aches but she promises him she will be back.

Tamlin had never returned, and a sick feeling churns in her gut. She knew he needed air, that maybe the ruse was also making him hurt but for different reasons.

Making her exit and a bland excuse that her husband was probably overhelmed, she exits the orpahange and makes her way back to the inn. It always made her uneasy to walk home in the dark, even when she worked here. But now...

I am fae. I am much stronger. Much faster. Much more dangerous than any human here could be. I am the predator. I have no reason to be afraid anymore.

Because despite her slight fear, what she was really afraid of was how Tamlin was doing--where he was. In the mortal lands, panicked and overwhelmed. Yes, she knew he could handle himself. But it made her extremely uneasy regardless. She hopes that she didn't push the ruse too hard, that he wasn't sick from having to pretend with her.

Tamlin...where the hell did you go?

She lets out and breath, and looks down alleys as she passes, worry twisting her insides into a pretzel.

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[golden--doodler]

Bob and Gene's relationship is so important to me 😭

I could write actual essays about them, but their relationship, when it actually gets a bit of focus, is the sweetest, most endearing thing on planet earth. People who say they don't like each other have obviously not seen the show, because these two adore each other. Here are these two people who are so different, and usually don't understand each other, but always try to anyway. And despite their differences, they have some notable similarities they can bond over as well.

Especially when it comes to Bob. Even though Gene is way more eccentric and enthusiastic than he ever was (and is), he never puts down Gene for his interests and instead encourages them. And he's willing to give Gene some extra confidence whenever he needs it. One of my favorite examples is this exchange from the episode "Best Burger":

Gene saying he's always admired Bob gets. me. every. time!!!!! It's so clear by this scene how much Gene loves his dad, and just wants to do right by him! For anyone who says Gene was annoying or frustrating in this episode, I point to this scene--he was genuinely remorseful for getting distracted (which is very normal for a kid his age) and gave Bob a compliment that I'm sure he cherished despite the fact that he was crunched on time. Sure, Louise admires Bob as well, but would never outright say it like Gene, so I'm sure Bob has a soft spot for his son because of this moment. Also, I think it's so sweet how despite running out of time and being stressed, he still apologizes to Gene for snapping. There are a lot of layers to this scene, which is why it's one of my favorites.

Then, of course, there's Bob being the best Autism Dad in "The Laser-Inth", but I've already said so much about this episode:

He just wants to share his interests with Gene and is so sweet and understanding when Gene gets sensory overload 🥲

Oh yes, and then there's "Diarrhea of a Poopy Kid", where Bob says that he loves to feed Gene and him offering to eat with Gene once Gene gets all better 🥺:

Gene inheriting Bob's love of food is so sweet and lovely 😭 Also, I love how supportive Bob is of Gene's Thanksgiving song. And he saying that Gene was the only one excited about his new, experimental Thanksgiving menu--

Oh yes, and there was the episode where they got trapped on a trapeze, and Bob said he'd never let anything happen to Gene! They indeed have a beautiful relationship:

Bob is always there to calm Gene whenever he's feeling stressed, and I love it. He feels like Gene's rock, in a way, a shoulder he can always lean on whenever he needs it.

And that time they got excited about fixing Helen's sink!!! That was so adorable. Plus, it led to one of the best outros of the whole show:

Guess what? I'm not even done yet! One of my absolute favorite moments of them was in the episode "Boys Just Wanna Have Fungus", and at the end, they call each other their heroes. I mean 🥹

They admire each other so much! And I agree that they'd probably be able to survive at least a couple days in the Apocalypse together. It helps that Bob's a cook.

And more recently, there was the time Gene realized how terrible VR is, and despite his nausea, Bob stuck around the whole time:

He didn't have to stick around, he just wanted to, because he felt bad about Gene having a bad time. He would move heaven and earth for his son no matter what, and it's so beautiful to see.

I could list more examples, but I think you get the idea. Not only do Bob and Gene love each other, but they have one of the strongest and sweetest relationships in the series.

[best-enemies]

I've reached season 5 on my CSI rewatch and I'm a few episodes past "Swap Meet", where a woman is murdered after attending a swing party with other couples from the neighbourhood. Near the end of the episode there's a moment that made me jump from my seat:

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two cups. He hands her a cup of tea.)

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - BRASS' OFFICE]

Erin Brady: Everybody fantasizes about other people. (She glances at Grissom.)

Even you, Mr. Grissom. A neighbor, a friend ... girl at the office.

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - HALLWAY]

(The door opens. Paul Brady walks out of the hallway. Erin Brady walks out into the hallway. Sara is sitting in the hallway chair watching them. She watches as they meet and kiss.)

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two culps. He hands her a cup of tea.)

LIKE!!!!!!!

Right after Erin ends her sentence with 'girl at the office', the first time Sara and Grissom meet again, he brings her tea. This might be an innocent interaction but to me it seemed like a nod to this relationship they have where both are into each other, know about the other's feelings, but can't/won't do anything about it (although Sara has kind of given Grissom an ultimatum). I don't know if it was intentional - I'm guessing it is, because I picked it up immediately. I might or might not have squealed in delight.

[ednaeflowers]

Never having a problem with material items, Edna is not very materialistic, so she cannot quite understand Yuri's brother geeking out—but she does understand that those things must've fascinated him all the same. Since they're such bumpkins, Sorey and Mikleo did that all the time, after all. Eizen was like that too. He loved learning about the world; cared a lot about the rich knowledge the past had to offer, how old artifacts held lots of significance about the evolution of the world and whatever else he liked rambling about. Edna admittedly never understood most of it, given how young she'd been at the time, but she at least knew that it was important to her brother and that was why she even listened in the first place. Maybe Yuri was like that too with his brother: not really understanding the whys in particular, but was still supportive because it made the person happy. 

When she was younger, Edna ... still wasn't good at conveying herself with words. She preferred to help Onii-chan with anything he had to do so that she could be useful; she picked up pretty flowers to make flower crowns to give him as gifts; she followed him around when she didn't want to be alone. Words were just too hard for her. The wrong words could lead to misunderstandings, and actions seemed more practical to her. But even then, perhaps her lack of contact with more than one person had kept her sheltered in a way. There are times when Edna deliberately presents herself as cold and curt, but there have also been times she accidentally came off too cruel and callous. Sorey had been a victim to that and while she did sincerely apologized, it had left a regretful feeling in Edna's heart.

This is why she wanted to stay quiet about her brother. Yuri probably doesn't even know how dragons are so dangerous—after all, dragons are something that seraphim are familiar with—but at the same time, Edna didn't just want to cry and leave him with nothing. She didn't even want to cry to begin with, but the damage has been done, and there's no turning back now. With how he patiently listens to her, he does sort of remind her of Onii-chan in a way. ❛  He sounds like a weirdo,  ❜ she softly remarks, lightheartedly, ❛  but that's why he had you to look out for him, I guess.  ❜ Even though she's younger, she sometimes had to scold Onii-chan to get back on track whenever he geeked out a little too much. 

She has to pause for a moment upon Yuri's insistence. Edna had thought he'd back away if she volunteered to fix the mess by herself. Even though he came here to Rayfalke for official business, she had thought, for a brief moment, that he would eventually see no more reason to come back here once the looters problem has been resolved. His job is done, so his business here should be done too, right? But thinking back to their entire conversation, back from when they had started this whole trip up the mountains, the more she found herself not caring anymore. True, this is the first time they've met, but they already found some common ground with each other about ... brothers. About family. And to Edna, she values family because 'family' gave her life meaning. It's nice to talk with someone who also has that same sentiment. 

❛  Yeah, this is definitely a human problem I shouldn't have to deal with,  ❜ she comments grumpily, sniffling again. He really does have a point anyway, so she supposes Yuri will just have to play janitor for a while. He is clearly stubborn to help and while she'd normally take the opportunity to tease about it, Edna's too emotionally tired to do so right now, but when she hears him agree to bring flowers the next day, she is about to give him a genuine thank you—

Edna blinks upon feeling herself get tugged, then ... A hug? She blinks again, confused. Sure, Lailah's given her a hug before when they reunited for Sorey's journey, but that was a hug from Lailah, not... 

She doesn't return the hug, but she doesn't shove him away either. Yuri seems as tall as him, she notices absently, lowering her umbrella a bit to accommodate the position. Eizen's the only male she lets touch her with all of her trust. She is still awkward whenever Mikleo touches her, and now Yuri is the third male in her life to touch her. Hugs from Onii-chan were so long ago, Edna is starting to forget them. Mikleo's never actually hugged her before, so she doesn't have much for a recent frame of reference, but ... It's comforting. Yuri's hug is tentative. It's not a hug that oversteps anything, just something that wanted to comfort her. She can tell that much. 

When he lets her go, Edna says knowingly, ❛  Lailah will know how to send a letter through the Turtlez. They deliver mail for us seraphim.  ❜ When he starts leaving, she takes her umbrella to shield her face first before raising her voice a little: ❛  Yuri. I'll only say it once: thanks.  ❜ 

Being a seraph means sleep is not a necessity, so Edna had spent the rest of her day mourning after Yuri had departed. After taking a walk around the mountain to clear her mind, she had mainly spent time at her brother's grave. She left those holes alone to honor Yuri's words, but the sight of them still annoyed her, so she stayed at the edge of the clifftop and kept watch as time passed to this current day. Yesterday's events still took a toll on her emotionally, so Edna takes today's walk on the mountain again, keeping a watchful eye out for more looters. Miraculously, there are none. She would've set up traps beforehand, but that would also affect Meebo and Yuri if they come by, so she decides against it. Those 'natural' disasters yesterday must've gotten through to those losers anyway. 

Edna continues mourning after her walk, now seated on a rock nearby the grave to stare at the scenery, only turning around when she hears noises behind her. She quietly watches Yuri keep his word and fix the holes with a shovel he brought along. He even got the orchid flowers she wanted... He really did come back and found those flowers within the day... If all humans had his sense of honor, maybe she'd hate them a little less.

❛  What's that?  ❜ she softly asks, walking over to him. She hasn't cried ever since he left yesterday, so her eyes aren't as pink and sore anymore to hide. Staring at the item he left in front of the grave, she tilts her head. It looks like a ... statue? ❛  You know, you didn't have to get this, right? Could've spent your money on something you actually need.  ❜ She stares at it again. Is it a small mountain? She wonders how long it took him to find it because she doubts he could've carved it himself given all the physical movement he did yesterday. Accounting the time it must've taken to hike back up here and the time to find those flowers, he definitely bought it. He bought this for her. He bought this for her brother.

❛  Leaving a mountain on a mountain, though. Clever,  ❜ she quips, just to maintain some sort of lighthearted atmosphere. Just because she stopped crying doesn't mean she is over it yet. Now that he fixed up the holes, she does feel a little better, but ... ❛  So, on a scale of one to ten, how sore are your legs today?  ❜

When it came to crying, she must have been like him. Always bothered by the idea of others seeing it, even though it meant... nothing, really. It was as if Yuri was okay with showing any other emotion except... sadness. He remembered the day Jiri died, the way his vision blurred and he got up and left the room. The way he was the last person before Hanks to stay with her until she died. Even at that time, being willing to show sadness was... difficult.

Perhaps it was because Edna had always been alone. Because there had never really been anyone around her that she felt she could trust to know her feelings. To see her feelings in their rawest form. On the other hand, Yuri had always been sort of the... "group leader". Always feeling like he had to be strong for everyone. Like he had to watch out for everyone. He had worried back then about showing negative emotions. Worried the other boys would feel unsafe and less secure. As the years went on and he had started raising more younger orphans, he didn't want to let them see him like that.

While Yuri couldn't say he understood the concept of becoming a dragon, he still understood that it was not a good fate from her story. Before he turned into a dragon, he was truly a person. Full of personality, a family even if perhaps only of one, someone who was beloved by that person. As if becoming that dragon made him lose all of that. It was... a shame that they were not like the Entelexeia. Beings who were not human, but transformed into another life form as evolution. Became spirits like a next phase of life. Dragons here... didn't seem to be like that.

He gave an "mm" of agreement at her statement. Indeed, Yuri couldn't help thinking of Jareth either when things weren't... going well. Still, he managed a small chuckle. "Yeah... My brother had this phase not long before he died... He geeked out about material belongings that he could finally afford. Honestly, it was weird and concerning to me, because it wasn't like him. He was one of us. Poor, thrifty, just happy to have whatever we had. But... it must've also been a wild, mind blowing thing to him to have shiny, well crafted things. Even the little kids were amazed. I was worried at the time, but... I also... can't blame him for feeling that way just because I wouldn't. And like I had said at the time... he could spend his money how he wanted to."

Back then he'd truly been concerned, but when he got older... he understood. Sure, it really wasn't like him, but... it was new to him, and for him, it also could've meant... having money. Having a living. Being able to get away from just struggling to survive. Barely getting by. He saw a future in some form of wealth. Saw a future by everyone in the Lower Quarter moving out and finding a new place to stay together. The nobles abused that desire... and it was the nobles he despised for that. For leading Jareth astray until the boy's hope became desperation out of concern for everyone's safety.

Though they'd just met, he did feel... at least something of a connection with Edna. There was something there. Anyone he passed by he wouldn't wish sadness or suffering upon, but he didn't know most people's lives. Their stories. Their history. When he finally did hear someone's - Edna's - it had little details that made Yuri think of his own life. Both the good and the bad.

"You could fix it with your powers, but... that was made by humans. I just think... it should be a human who fixes a human's mess. It shouldn't be your job to fix what humans did here." His gaze returned to the now covered holes, the dirt clearly moved after having settled for a long time. He really did need to speak to Harry about this. Just because this was a foreign land didn't give anyone the right to be borderline grave digging and robbing. If Harry wouldn't do something about it, Raven no doubt would, or Raven would convince Harry to.

Bring flowers, she said... He'd probably need some direction, but he could search for some. This place was still unfamiliar territory, but he didn't like the idea of not fulfilling her request. Of... coming back to fix the holes and not leaving the flowers. Red orchid... He could probably search tomorrow before coming back up the mountain. Going back down would be easier, but there was no way he would be able to take another whole trip back up and down the mountain today. Tomorrow was his only chance for a while though. After tomorrow, his legs would be highly sore from the trips. There was no way even his body would be able to pull off another trip up this mountain so soon.

"Yeah... I'll ask around since I'm not too familiar with the location, but... I'll look for some." He paused, then sighed. This was... possibly a bit much. Overstepping, even. They were essentially strangers. Regardless though, he couldn't... just leave her to feel so alone and helpless at what had happened once he had to leave for the day. So he lightly, gently, and with little pressure pulled her closer. The lightest hug he could manage to keep her from feeling overwhelmed, and light enough for her to reject it and back away. Nothing overly familiar that might make her uncomfortable. Just... something so she knew he didn't take any of this lightly. So she didn't seem like just another assignment for his job, and someone he just felt sorry for along the way. While he had to keep his job in mind, this was... a bit more than that now.

He was careful, gentle, when he pulled back to speak. "Not sure when I'll be back tomorrow, but it's gonna be a bit of a trip like today, so... I won't be able to come back for a fair bit. Unfortunately the limitations of human bodies means my legs are gonna hate me after tomorrow. I can hang out for a bit, but otherwise, after that... when I come back for that festival in Ladylake, I'll look for one of your friends. See if they can get a hold of you somehow so you can go with us."

All that was left was for him to give her his farewells until tomorrow. After getting down the mountain, it would be getting late. He'd have to turn in pretty quickly after, if he wanted to make sure he had time tomorrow to get everything done and get back down before it was late. There was no reason to fill Karol and Judith in since they would be staying at the same inn despite their different assignments, so he could at least square away his plans for tomorrow with them.

---

Searching for the flowers hadn't been too difficult once he'd asked around among the nearby residents. Karol and Judith had offered to help, but given what happened yesterday, Yuri preferred to work on Edna's request by himself. Unfortunately Judith needed Ba'ul today again too though, which meant Yuri was still on his own for the mountain climb. If he were to ever come back here if Edna wanted visitors, Ba'ul would be... helpful. Certainly, very helpful. Given the climb though, Yuri preferred not to have Repede have to go up the mountain with him. Even for Repede, it was a lot. For today too, he'd be with Karol on Karol's assignment.

Thankfully there was no sign of the looters on the way back up. Earlier today, Yuri had heard some rumor going around about the mountain being "cursed", so the guys Edna had spooked yesterday had probably started gossiping about their experience. Most likely though, it would keep people away now at least. At the very least, the foreigner groups.

As promised though, he laid the flower bunch at the front of the grave, followed by poking at the dirt with the shovel he'd bought to fix the uneven coverings. There wasn't much need to redo a lot of it, but he did make sure to redo the edges and make sure the tops were patted down properly. Once everything looked okay, Yuri pulled out the carved sculpture of a mountain he'd purchased while checking the market for a shovel, placing it against the grave with the flowers.

It was no artifact, but it was clearly crafted with care and quite possibly based on this mountain. His chances of finding a real, genuine artifact were slim, and a real one being sold at any market would cost more than he could afford. Something like that would be doable if he was a on job from Ioder, but that wasn't the case right now. For now... this was what he could do, and it wasn't likely any looter would be up here again any time soon.

[chiistarri]

"be grateful for what you have" have you considered that i am but also want something else

[stardew-obsessed-ora]

As I mentioned yesterday, I was thinking about doodling some of my Stardew AU characters! Well, you know what? I did it. And YES, I did it DURING calculus work. you also get a funny doodle with each one

From top to bottom with a brief summary of who they are (ulrich doesnt get a big one because he's the star of my stardew fixation rn); Ulrich Althaus, the main loser drawn on my blog and the Technical Lead for Joja Corporations. I have a few posts answering questions about him :3 Apollo Nephus, one of my Adventurer Guild members! He fights with a ribbon which ignites with magical flames and his combat style is similar to ribbon dancing. Nobody quite understands how he manages to make it work, but he does! He's rather quiet and introverted, but by no means does that mean he won't speak his mind if need be. Bro has absolutely put people in their place then walked off as if nothing happened. Shay! He's a banshee who resides in the secret woods. Sometimes, in the late of night, residents of the surrounding towns can swear they hear shrill screams in the evening. This is almost 100% due to utterly stupid shenanigans he got himself into rather than any death being announced. I imagine it keeps people on edge about the secret woods, however. He doesn't really get the chance to interact with others often, but when he does, he's a rather brotherly figure who enjoys playfully teasing whoever he interacts with. also he is a homie to the junimos. loves the lil guys.

[bylertruther]

the brainrot is so bad that i'm sitting here trying to watch the godfather just thinking to myself "damn..... how can i make a byIer au outta dis... 🤔📝"

[mythvoiced]

-. the witch 2 single-handled fixed my weird relationship to le.e jongs.uk bless his soul

[skenpiel]

AAAAAARGHH!!!!!!!!! OK FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i guess i do like dirk now. whatever