#He makes me feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time

[apollo-the-beloved]

I want him in the most aroace way possible

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[j-jinxee]

[ ⟡​ ] — KEEP QUIET,,

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Nijiro x Reader

[warnings — quickie, p in v, unprotected, swearing, cumming inside, semi public]

-,' syn – Nijiro needs an outlet for his adrenaline. Shooting fight scenes as Kazutora and then having to wait for others to shoot theirs, it's throwing him off more than usual tonight.

[AN] no cuz guys, Nijiro literally never shows his arms. Like bro is always wearing long sleeves, jackets, or yk just baggy shirts in general. So this 40 second clip of him (where he's literally just in his own little world on the TR set) WEARING A SINGLET like I can't deal fr, I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time, like it's driving me up the wall.

─────

"mm-ngh! Niji, fuck" your small whines were quickly silenced by Nijiro's hand covering your mouth. He had previously swept you away from the set, you weren't acting in the Tokyo Revengers movie but since your boyfriend was, you watched from behind the camera with the rest of the crew. It was so cool seeing your boyfriend in his element, you usually weren't allowed to be with the crew since you don't actually work for them, but the TR production was pretty laid back and let you stay to watch. Which is what you were doing, until about 5 minutes ago.

Nijiro was frustrated with the way they were filming. Usually they'd film a single characters scenes all at once, so they wouldn't have their actors coming on and off constantly, but for some reason they changed it for tonight. The night where Nijiro had to film his biggest fight scene.

It was really pissing him off, the way he'd get fully committed to the character, and then be told to go off and take 5 because they needed to shoot someone else. Why would they change the formula? It was perfect the way it was, now the production will suffer.

And above all else, Nijiro was told to take 5 right when his adrenaline would reach its peak. Naturally, he needed an outlet, a way to keep his energy up. Luckily, his favourite thing to put his energy into was standing right infront of him.

"keep quiet f'me baby.." he whispered, gently covering your mouth with his hand. The only lighting in the bathroom being from the dim street lamps outside, increasing the secretive atmosphere. You were pinned against the bathroom wall as Niji buried himself in your cunt, practically imprinting his shape into your walls. Your eyes travelled down to his arms, fuck. You mentally thank the costume team for finally getting Nijiro to wear a singlet, he never wore shirts that showed off his arms, so you made sure to remember this session over the rest. His sweat gleamed in the faint warm light, decorating his neck and collarbones, your eyes fixated on his fake neck tattoo. Fuck, you'd have to convince him to cosplay or something after this, the sight mixed with the pleasure he gave you was making your head spin.

His arms and shoulders flexed with each thrust as he held you up by your thighs, fucking into you like this was the last time he'd ever get. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, along with a nicely crafted string of cuss words, letting everyone hear how good he fucks you. Small whimpers were the most you could let out, not wanting Niji to get punished for having a quickie mid set.

"You're so good f'me... fuck baby" His voice was intoxicating, his touch made you feel ways you've never felt before. Your arms rested over his shoulders, not that they needed to — his strong hold kept you up with no issue. You were sure that if he fucked you any harder, you'd end up bringing down the wall you were currently pinned up against. He felt the need to groan louder, feeling it build — his mouth soon found your neck, sucking on your sweet spots, only bringing you closer to the edge.

You felt Nijiro's hips stutter, followed by his teeth digging into your skin a little harder than before.

"m-mmh cum, cum with me baby" His hot breath laced your jawline as he rutted into you faster than ever. Feeling that familiar knot in your stomach about to snap, you couldn't stay silent anymore.

"mmh- cumming.. cummingcummingcummi- ahh!" You cried into his neck. Shortly met with the feeling of your walls being painted by Niji's hot white seed, filling you up, keeping you warm. You could swear you saw heaven for a second, his touch made you drunk, reaching a state of euphoria you could never get anywhere else.

His arms gently let you back down, still keeping you steady with your bodies pressed together as you could barely stand. Whispering sweet praises in your ear as his hand went down to fuck his cum back into you, not letting any leak out. You smiled weakly as his words laced your eardrums, almost forgetting he was in the middle of his job.

"Nijiro! Wherever you are, you're back on in two." The director shouted.

"Fuck, 'm sorry baby. I'll take care of you when we're home ok? I love you" He said, getting his pants back on at the speed of light. Not bothering to wash his hands, but instead resorting to licking your combined juices off his fingers, and with a quick kiss to your cheek, he was gone.

You knew he'd keep his word, now all you'd have to do was wait till you got home to recieve his aftercare.

can't wait.

[auclairedetoru]

Hello! I'm a little nervous because I haven't requested anything in a long time, but I was hoping that maybe you could write something for Gojo with a tall, muscular fem reader? Maybe some headcanons? The buff girlies hardly get any love. Thank you 🥺

- 👾Anon

Absolutely! I've noticed the majority of the time the reader is always described as smaller than the character, which don't get me wrong, I love feeling petite and adorable in fiction since that's not the reality 😭 but the strong tall girlies deserve representation too, that's why in my roomie! Sukuna story I made the reader a boxer!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Oh you asked Gojo about his girlfriend? Oof, get ready for him to talk your ear off.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He'll tell you all about her personality. How she's incredibly sweet, and she takes care of him and his students and friends with all the love in her heart, and she's so smart, he's pretty sure whoever made her chose only the best qualities.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 And then he starts talking about her looks and physique... Oh boy, if he wasn't hyper excited before, he's gonna be now.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The first thing you'd notice about Gojo is how fucking tall he is. He's nearly 191cm, 6'3 in freedom units. He could very easily cosplay slenderman. People have a hard time looking up at him because their necks start to hurt after a little while, but... Not his girlfriend.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She isn't as tall as Gojo, but she can make eye contact with him with ease, and he LOVES it! He can wrap his arms around her shoulders and hug her, he can kiss her without bowing down nearly 90 degrees, he can give her piggy back rides without having her stand on a chair first. He just loves her height, it was perfect, like she was made that tall just for him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Then there's her strength, and no, not the mental strength, but physical. Every time he sees her wearing shorts and/or sleeveless shirts, he goes feral. She makes him feel like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time, or like a school girl with a crush.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 His girlfriend trains hard everyday, and over time she has built very strong muscles that make Gojo salivate. His favourite thing to do is bite them, which earned him the nickname "vampire Toru" and every time she feels his teeth sink into her arms or thighs, she'd say something along the line of “uh oh, vampire Toru is awake!”. Namami told him that if he had a tail it would start wagging because of that one simple sentence.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo loves play fighting with her because she manhandles him with no fear of hurting him and it drives him crazy. Sometimes he lets her win just so she can pin him down on the floor, he would playfully gasp with a hand in front of his mouth to make her giggle, but the blush on his cheeks is very real.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When his students met her for the first time, they were in awe (except for Megumi who already knew her). Her smile and voice were so sweet, but everything else about her would definitely crush them with a flick of her finger.

“Your shoulders are very broad.”

“thank you! I worked very hard on them.”

“and you're so tall.”

“you'll catch up to me eventually.”

“... Can you teach me how to be like you?”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 At first, Gojo didn't like that, he was supposed to be their role model, not his girlfriend! He huffed and pouted when they ignored him and focused on her instead, but when he got home and his pretty girl showered him in cuddles and kisses and told him he is still her number one, he was back to his happy self.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Speaking of cuddles, Gojo loves when she holds him and vise versa. He never believed in soulmates, but with the way they fit in each other's arms no matter who's the little and big spoon, he started to believe she really is the other half meant for him and him only.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He doesn't have a favourite love language with her, because they were all his favourite ways of loving her. Whether it's through kisses, gifts, words, he does them all. He knows that the world has been harsh on her given that she doesn't look like what people think a woman should look like, so he tries his best to give her back the confidence they have taken away from her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Over the years and with the help of Gojo, she has become so confident and secure in herself. She stopped hunching over and hiding behind baggy clothes and now stands tall and wears whatever she wants, because she found someone who loves her for the things she thought made her unlovable.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 So yeah, his biggest flex is his tall and buff girlfriend.

It went into a totally different direction than what I had in mind but I hope you like it!

[moraxswhore]

Vanitas

2.1k words

bottom!ghost top!soap

Simon can't fucking take it anymore. All he can think about is the fact that the only thing separating him from Johnny's cock is nothing but a skirt and a full wedding reception. He'd been patient through the entire ceremony and through the first couple hours of the reception, but he can't wait any longer. If he doesn't get his hands under that fucking kilt soon, he's going to stab someone.

- or -

Soap prevents a crime by dicking down his boyfriend

He hated the military full dress uniform. It's itchy and tight, and it feels wrong in all the wrong places compared to his regular work fit, but he was explicitly told, by Price, that he can't wear full tactical gear to Soap’s sister’s wedding. For Johnny, and for Judith, he will put up with the formal wear for one evening, then he can pack it away for at least another six months to gather dust in a closet somewhere.

"You nearly ready, Si?" Ghost hears Johnny call from the bedroom, because he insisted 'it's easier to put a kilt on lying down', so Simon resigned himself to getting ready in the bathroom, attempting to look somewhat presentable. His tie is refusing to sit correctly no matter how much he tries to fix it, his medals situated obnoxiously on his chest feel like a gloat of his crimes, getting a medal for doing his job and being forced to show it off at formal events. He hates it,it puts the attention on him.

"I guess." He gives up on his tie, deciding that how it looks now is as good as it's going to get as he runs a hand through his curls in an pointless attempt to tame them, though after years under the mask, the curls have a mind of their own and refuse to listen to the wishes of any hair product. Simon just accepts defeat and walks out the bathroom.

Ghost knew that Soap was wearing a kilt to the wedding, it was a conversation they had when Simon asked what he should wear. He asked if Soap was also going to be wearing full dress only to be told:

"My mother would skin me alive if I showed up to that wedding in anything other than a MacTavish tartan kilt and I am more scared of my mum than I will ever be of Price."

So, Ghost should have been prepared to see Soap in a kilt for the first time, knowing that it was happening. Goddamn, was he wrong. Walking out of the bathroom and seeing Soap in a full kilt, white shirt, and black jacket hugging his frame just right, it does something to Ghost. There’s just enough leg visible, that Ghost feels like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.

"Mum can't complain that I haven't cleaned up for Judy's wedding, can she?" Soap laughs as he bends over to fix his shoelaces, and that's when Simon sees it, more like what he doesn’t see. A lack of underwear under the kilt, the MacTavish family jewels in all their pride and glory, his cock hanging free and heavy. He could put his face right in there, eat Johnny out right now with no issue (other than Mama MacTavish murdering them for being late), but with such a delightful meal in front of him, Simon thinks he could die a happy man. "Steamin' Jesus Si, you look like a fucking wet dream in that suit, I'd devour you right now if it wouldn't make us late."

Soap walks over to him and quickly fixes his tie and the mess that is his uncooperative curls, and Simon has to fight the urge to drop to his knees right there in the room, instead forcing his feet to move, following Soap out the door and to the church.

This is going to be a long day.

Simon can't fucking take it anymore. All he can think about is the fact that the only thing separating him from Johnny's cock is nothing but a skirt and a full wedding reception. He'd been patient through the entire ceremony and through the first couple hours of the reception, but he can't wait any longer. If he doesn't get his hands under that fucking kilt soon, he's going to stab someone.

He watches from the side of the room as Johnny dances with his sister, the pair laughing as Judith steps on his feet; Ghost would probably find it just as funny if he wasn't bricked up and leaking all over his underwear. It reaches a point of, in Johnny's words, ‘too horny to think anything other than gay’, that he has to do something about it. The solution? Ghost strides over to where Johnny and his sister are dancing and barks out at him to follow.

And Johnny, the ever loyal soldier, follows without question, passing his sister off to dance with their father before striding after Simon, trailing behind him through the corridors of the church  to the now-empty chapel, the rest of the wedding guests in the banquet room for the reception. 

Johnny is barely in the room before Simon has the door closed and the Scot pressed against the mahogany wood. He sinks to his knees, forcing his way under the kilt and he's met with the thick musk of Johnny's sweat. Moaning as he noses at Soap’s balls, Simon licks at the seam between his thigh and crotch, the salty ambrosia melting on his tongue as he explores every crevice he can reach, Soap’s hand on his head trying to guide him to his cock.

"Please, Simon." Johnny's whines only spur Ghost on, licking and sucking on any and all exposed skin his mouth can find, painting Soap’s thighs in an array of purple bruises. The heavy weight of Soap’s cock against his face, leaking precum down his cheeks, has him so lost in desperation that he finally takes the cock head in his mouth, moaning whorishly at the salty desire dripping onto his tongue.

"Should've done this this morning, maybe you wouldn't have been such a moody brat then," Johnny says as he lifts the kilt just enough to run his fingers through the unruly curls of Simon’s hair, grabbing a handful tightly to control him. "Such a cock hungry slut, you couldn't even wait until the reception was over, can't go a few hours without being filled like a whore."

Moans and whines echo off the walls as Soap bullies Ghost’s throat with his cock, the rough pace making his eyes water as the tears threaten to spill, spurred on by the delightfully degrading words being spat at him. He can't help whining in displeasure as he's pulled off of Soap’s cock, guided to stand by the hand still tightly holding his hair, and roughly dragged to the nearest pew.

"You want to act like a whore, then I'll treat you like one."

Soap pushes him down onto a pew, his back against the hard wood of the seat as Johnny makes quick work of removing his trousers and underwear leaving him bare from the waist down. He forces his legs open, hooking one leg over the back of the pew he’s lying on, the other over the pew in front and the cold air against his cunt makes him realise just how wet he is. "Look at you, dripping for it, so desperate for my cock."

The painful pleasure of Soap’s hand hitting his cock knocks the air from his lungs, the wood of the pews digging into his legs as he tries to force them closed, it earns him a displeased tut from Johnny and another slap to his already sensitive cock. 

"Take what you're given like the good boy I know you can be." Soaps fingers easily slide into his slick hole, with Simon’s symphony of moans echoing off the hallowed walls. The sunlight streams in through the stained glass windows, painting Ghost's body in a heavenly array of colour. "Look at you, a work of art laid beneath me, God watching as I defile you in His house."

Ghost can feel the tears forming in his eyes as Soap’s fingers hit all the right spots inside him, the impending orgasm building.

"Do you think He's jealous? Jealous that I have death falling apart in my fingers, moaning my name, worshipping me in His house." Johnny leans in close to whisper in his ear, Simon’s whimpers and whines entangling themselves in the praise. Every word and sound enunciated by the wet sound of Soap's fingers in Simon’s slick hole, his thumb stroking his cock. "Go on, Mo ghràdh, show him how you sing your praises."

His orgasm rushes through him, Soap's fingers never stopping their assault on his cock and the overstimulation has his legs shaking against the pews. 

"Too much, please." Words tumble out his mouth as Simon struggles to contain his noises. The oversensitivity on his cock after his orgasm never relents, even after Johnny removes his fingers from him. Ghost watches through half lidded eyes as Johnny licks his fingers clean from Simon's slick. "Johnny, I can't, no more."

"You'll take what you're given, doll." Soap lifts up his kilt to reveal his hard, leaking cock, the underside of the kilt stained with precum. Simon watches as his lover gathers slick from his used hole, using it to ease the glide on his cock. He can't control the stuttering of his hips as Soap rubs his leaking tip against Simon's cock, pleas and whines escaping his mouth. "I haven't even had my fill yet, didn't realise I was dating such a selfish little slut."

"No, please, want you." He knows he sounds pathetic, his voice barely above a whine, a whimper, but he can't find it in him to care, not when the thought of Soap's cock inside him, his lover roughly using him as he pleases, sings so loudly in his ears he can't begin to care about how loud his moans are. "Use me, please."

"Oh don't you worry, doll, I'll treat you right." Simon's eyes flutter shut at the slight pressure of Johnny's cock entering his hole, the full feeling hitting just right as his lover's hips meet his, giving him no time to adjust before Johnny sets a rough pace. The sound of skin on skin echoes off the walls, accompanied beautifully by the tenor of moans leaving the pair’s lips. "Should keep you bred all the time, nice and full with my seed, my perfect little cumdump for me to use. Always nice and wet for me, bend you over any surface and have my way with you, leave you dripping with my cum."

"Yes, please, yes-" The air knocks out his lungs as Soap grabs his thighs, folding him in half, his knees against his chest, Soap's cock hitting deeper than before, his mind blanking from the pleasure as he feels Soap's fingers enter his mouth in an attempt to silence him.

"Don't want the entire church to hear how much of a whore you are, wouldn't want them walking in, seeing you begging for my cock." Soap's pace never relents, the pain of his lovers hips slamming against his, and the burn in his thighs adding to the cacophony of blinding pleasure building in his core. "A big, strong lieutenant whimpering and whining for his subordinate's cock, brought to tears by having a cock in his hole, and what a pretty hole it is for me to use. For only me to use."

All he can do is make muffled moans as the weight of Soap's fingers in his mouth, pushing on his tongue. The degrading praise of Johnny's words flood his brain as he whines pathetically around the fingers in his mouth, his second orgasm rushing through him, his slick squirting out of him soaking the underside of Soap’s kilt, the relentless pace never slowing, the overstimulation shivering through his body.

"Look at you, my own fountain of youth, only I know how to make you flow." Soap's pace stutters as he buries himself so his hips are flush with Simons as he cums deep inside, the tip of his cock grinding against Simons cervix. "Gonna fill you up, breed you nice and full."

Soap begins to pull out, Ghost instinctively wraps his legs around his lover's waist to stop him, wanting him to stay inside, but his mind comes back to the present as he remembers where they are. He tries looking around for something to wipe himself with, not wanting to go through the rest of the reception with cum dripping out of him.

"You got a tissue?" Soap chuckles at him before throwing his underwear and suit trousers at him.

"No, you want to act like a whore, then you can deal with the consequences." He watches in disbelief as Soap fixes the kilt to make it look presentable, and not like he's just fucked the daylights out of his boyfriend. "And maybe if you're good, I'll treat you when we get home."

Simon accepts that he's going to have to leave the mess that's currently leaking from his hole and begrudgingly pulls on his underwear and dress trousers. If his treat is even half as good as what just happened, then it'll be worth ruining his underwear.

That kilt is going to be the death of him.

[stormyoceans]

Jimmy truly catched Sea's clinginess and they were soooo cuddly in before last twilight 😭😭😭 we are about to have so much love and intimacy and some of the scenes they showed were so sexy even if there wasn't a glimpse of naked skin oh we are about to be so well fed

NOT TO BE THAT PERSON BUT

IF THEY FUCKED RAW IN FRONT OF THE CAMERAS RIGHT THEN AND THERE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LESS OBSCENE AND EXPLICIT AND INTIMATE AND DERANGED THAN WHATEVER THE HELL THIS IS LIKE THE SLOW SLIDE OF MORK'S HAND OVER DAY'S OPEN PALM?????? THIS SHIT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL I FEEL LIKE A VICTORIAN MAN SEEING A WOMAN’S ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME

i don't even know what the context is or what is going on exactly but this is already the single most life changing transcendental insane thing to ever happen on television and me personally as a person. and here's the thing.. what a lot of people who make romances happen on-screen often don't understand is that intimacy and seduction are constructed like a suspense scene: it's all about the space and the timing and the balance between emotions vs physicality. they're all the same mechanisms to build expectations within the viewers. and say what you want about p'aof but as a director he DOES understand this. and maybe im biased but imho jimmysea ALSO understand this. p'aof knows exactly how to work the camera and jimmysea, while thriving when they have to deliver emotions, knows how to work their bodies

LIKE LOOK AT THE CLOSE UP OF THEIR HANDS AND THEIR EXPRESSIONS AND THE DIFFERENT LEVELS BETWEEN THEM WITH MORK TOWERING OVER DAY BECAUSE HE'S THE ONE ACTIVELY TRYING TO 'SEDUCE' DAY TO GO OUTSIDE (AND UNCONSCIOUSLY SEDUCING HIM FR)

LOOK AT THEM GETTING MORE ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THE SEDUCTION HAS CLEARLY BECOME MUTUAL

AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM EVEN SAYING ANYMORE BUT THE POINT IS I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THIS INTIMACY SLOWLY DEVELOP BETWEEN MORKDAY AND GROW WITH THEM AS THEIR RELATIONSHIP CHANGES

[aliensubstance-011]

Hi hello I absolutely adore your band AU!! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the band's appearances, like clothes/hair dye/etc.? Especially given you've mentioned things past highschool

I rlly rlly want to draw these dorks practising together and want to stay true to your ideas :3

Hello I saw this just before I was going to go to sleep and then laid awake Thinking About It for the next 30 minutes so here I am!

Under the cut because there's a LOT!!

Richie

He layers just as badly as in canon

So in my head it goes:

Long sleeved stripey T-shirt

then a graphic short tee on top (which eventually becomes a band T-shirt nearer then end of senior year when Steph joins the band! (And when I design the logo lmao))

THEN a zip up hoode

I'm not done

Then a leather jacket he found at a garage sale (it's slightly too big for him normally so it fits over everything else.)

Ripped jeans + belt chains

He has one of those goth belts with all the metal eyelets in it

Boots!! He has loads of different coloured laces he wears each day!!

And ofc he has his blue hair

He has his ears pierced too- he has these skeleton studs and they're all he wears.

Oh and the green and black bracelet Max eventually makes when he becomes the band's friend. It's tied onto his belt loops every morning.

Peter

Pretty similar to canon in my head

He takes off his suspenders and bowtie when they practice though (he feels safe then)

His hair is longer! He wears it in a man bun because it made him feel more masc before he came out to everyone (in middle school)

When he felt more comfortable (and after he came out) he decided to keep his hair long and the man bun just kind of stuck

He gets an undercut maybe? I can't decide in whether that's good or not.

He had LOADS of ear piercings (industrial, tragus, three on each lobe, conch, helix) but he's too scared to get facial ones somehow

He wears dangly earrings in his main lobe piercing

After he makes friends with Steph and stops wearing his suspenders+bowtie altogether he unbuttons and untucks his shirt during practice.

(Steph almost passes out the first time he does this. She can see his collar bones. Victorian woman seeing ankle for the first time core)

Richie clips a short chain onto his belt loops "So we match!"

His yellow and orange bracelet becomes his hairband- you can't usually see it unless you're looking for it/it's in a ponytail

Ruth

Ruth was actually so so difficult for me to decide

Her normal style just goes so hard yknow?

I think she starts wearing Docs like Richie

But she just has rainbow laces and that's it she doesn't change them

She gets a leather jacket too and paints the band logo on (badly)

The band tee she'll wear but it'll be over-sized and half tucked in

Logo front and back babey!!

I don't know what else for Ruth so if you have any ideas please feel free to use them

Her blue and white bracelet is just on her wrist like a normal person lmao

Steph

Nose piercing Nose piercing!! She has a little ring

Her style is already SO SO good for the band AU!!!

She has fingerless leather gloves

She also has tattoos methinks

The beginnings of a rose + thorns sleeve on her left arm

And a shitty stick and poke star on her right wrist (over her veins) she got when she was 16- it's started to fade so she gets other stars tattooed on her wrist around it (one for each band member?)

She's the one who commissions an artist to design the logo, and gets t-shirts made for each of them!!

She, and Ruth both get the logo put on leather jackets. Steph's is proper vintage and is more of a biker jacket though.

She tries to convince Richie and Peter to get ones too, but Richie doesn't want to damage his jacket and Peter refuses to wear one at all (he won't wear the shirt either)

(She catches him using it as a sleep shirt. She teases him about it for weeks)

She cuts her band top into a crop top but she doesn't always wear it.

She dyes the tips of her hair red for while

But it fades into pink weirdly quick

So she dyes it back to her normal ombre

Steph's pink bracelet hangs from a hole made in one of her drumsticks. Her bracelet was made first (Max cried when he saw it)

Max

Max isn't technically part of the band

But he is their #1 fan forever and ever

So he has a shirt too that he wears to all of their (eventual) gigs!! The logo is a bit faded/damaged and washed out because he keeps washing it the wrong way

He has a scar in his eyebrow from when Steph punched him after she first joins the band (this kickstarts his redemption.) (Punchstarts?)

And he has his purple and yellow bracelet around his wrist!

I still haven't figured out how to fit Grace into this AU at all. I do HC that she thinks all music other than Christian Music is Of The Devil™ and she plays the flute but that's about it honestly... One of these days I'll figure something out

[soul-likeasecretinyourthroat]

Guys I’ve won. It’s official.

WE ARE DATINGGGGG AAAAAAA

As of yesterday, September 24 th 2024, we have been together for 1 WHOLE MONTH

I still can’t believe he’s mine and I’m his 🤭 just the other day I met one of his new college friends and he introduced me to them as his girlfriend 😭🎀 literally MARRY ME ALREADYYYYY PLEASE!!!!!

My great wingman Morgan (gotta give credit where credit is due) put pressure on my bf to like make a move and ask me out because he was “tired of hearing me talking about him 24:7 and wondering when he will ask me out” 🤭

He asked me out 3am on the 24th of August, after we had hung out all evening after the football game / marching band gig 🤭

I was at his house til like 1:30am watching mob psycho 100 and Ouran High School Host Club, and then he dropped me off at my place. When he got home he asked me over text if I was free the following morning. I said yes (even though I wasn’t sure if I actually was bc I couldn’t ask my mom who was asleep lolll, I would make time) and then he asked after that “Date?”

That singular word filled me up with so much joy and happiness that I actually went outside and ran around the block barefoot in my pajamas because I was tweaking so harddddd

Our first date was breakfast, we had French toast w strawberries and maple syrup. We went thrifting and he tried on these waist size 52 jeans and he could put both his legs into one side of them 😂

Anyway, it has been a WHOLE FUCKING MONTH SINCE HE ASKED ME TO BE OFFICIAL AAAAAAAUGH IM LITERALLY CRYING I CANT BELIEVE I CAN FINALLY CALL HIM MY BOYFRIENDDDEDDD EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I feel like a Victorian era man seeing a woman’s ankles and perhaps knees for the first time and dying from the beauty.

Even though he is living like 45 mins away I still see him on the weekends, and that’s why we have phones to call on and text and send funny photos

This past weekend, on both Friday and Saturday nights, we hung out together from like 7pm til 1:30am and on Saturday like 4:30pm - 2:00am watching Ouran High School Host Club, cuddled so close to each other that my sweatshirt I wore smells like him and now it’s my favorite one to ever have 🤭

On Friday night after marching band / football and after culvers, we go back to his place. We were both chilly, and as we leave to go into his house I grab my sweatshirt from the trunk of my car and he asked “what r u grabbing?” And I said “sweatshirt, I’m a bit chilly :)”

And then once we get settled in the basement, he literally says “one sec lemme go grab something” and he grabs His own blanket From His Bed and puts it in the dryer to warm it up, Waits a couple minutes, and then comes over by me on the couch and covers us both with it and snuggles up close on my right side so that my whole right and his whole left side were touching and aughhhhhh I’m in love.

Like that was so sweet right there.

I miss my wife, but soon this Sunday, I want to bring him up north to meet my bestie Bella, and to go swimming in my favorite lake with me surrounded by my favorite and familiar places and faces 🤭

I just thought I should update the blr because like you guys have at least seen my blog mention this mans and my woes, least I could do is feed you some scraps 🤭

[lunicho]

I was trying to send an ask but it was so powerful it crashed my tumblr

https://x.com/andteamtrans/status/1794007365571801226?s=46&t=1cK1SDOGZYEXyfR5lpIChg

I JUST WOKE UP???? NICO IN A CROP TOP??? HIS VLINE???? HIS TUMMY OUT???? IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH HE CANT DO THIS TO ME I NEED TO FUCK HIM SO BADDDDD

Every time I see Nico show skin I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time /ref

Nico v line…Nico v line…NICO V LINE

-😵‍💫

link

NOO TUMBLR IS A HATER I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'D DO THAT. also i opened the link without reading the rest of the ask and when i tell u i GASPED 😭😭😭 HIS V LINE.... oh it's so pretty oh my gosh it's so pretty idek what to do or what to say or what to think. THIS IS GENUINELY MAKING ME ALSO FEEL LIKE A VICTORIAN MAN

[whwie]

uni life is fine! I don't think I'm going to document whatever happened over the break bc I learned and I'm gonna grow from it.

anyways back in uni and bc I've been away from my uni crush cuz winter break, I was chilling but now I see him often enough again.

I'm trying to distance myself from him, like the first 2 days back into the friend group I was like fine interacting with him and then idfk smth in me remembered, oh u like him? liked him? idk idk.

I find myself being like oh he's cute and finding little moments of jealousy or envious. and it's like girl ugh ur obvious again :/

and he probably knows.

He is alone studying tonight in our communal lounge and I thought "omg this is the time to yk hang with him" but no that's so obvious.

Simp moment time: he's wearing a white tank top and I'd never seen that until today, and i dont think other ppl have too in our uni friend group (other than his sister). That's what caused my brain to be like omg stay with him while he studies tonight. I was so blindsided by what he was wearing (feeling like I'm no better than straight man when they see a girl wearing only a sport bra), that like when he mentioned he just came out of shower, I was like "wait what ur hair doesn't look wet" internally. Because I was paying attention to his shoulders too much.

WTF AM I A VICTORIAN MAN SEEING A WOMANS ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME??

I'm such a teenage girl bro.

When i saw him alone and he didn't notice me when I opened the door, because he was vibing to music. I immediately wanted to sneak up on him and spook him by grabbing his shoulders. GIRL THAT WHITE TANK TOP UR SO STUPID ITS LITERALLY JUST A SHIRT BRUH.

HE FUCKING NOTICED ME SNEAKING UP ON HIM BC OF THE WINDOW, IM SO PISSED THAT HES OBSERVANT.

bro like I'm physically affection with my friends of any genders, but with him I like refused to idk whyyyy (that's what makes it obvious and Ik, he knows that) but like me sneaking up on him tonight was my only chance to be somewhat normal and show him he's a friend of mine.

Fuck bro this whole post is just me confirming I still like him, like after tonight and that stupid stupid littlest interaction.

ugh I'm so dumb to think I'd be over a crush. I hold onto them long :///

should I go back to the lounge to get a glimpse of him again with the excuse to fill up my humidifier? who knows! I'll update on that in my next post, maybe about him (most likely about him, seeing how this post is turning out)?

[sluttyten]

I literally miss WayV every day and Ten is over here attacking me with his belly for my troubles.

l i s t e n

I am a wreck, I have watched that video more times than I care to admit, and I'll probably watch it several more times before the day is over because 😫 ten lee.... fully exposing his belly, doing pull ups (which have never been so hot to watch in my opinion) and I swear to god he was about to lose his pants in that second before he stopped the video, like they were riding so low and there was so much skin, and I truly don't know how I didn't just fucking blank out when I first saw that while I was at work like I was like oh my god sir???? sir??? this is a panera drive thru sir?

but yeah 😭 I'm missing wayv so much, and if missing wayv gets me that video of ten then I guess I'll be grateful, I'm sad and horny and very grateful he decided to share that video

[novelconcepts]

fic: walking with the lady

Every movie, every book, every story about the horrors of letting in the ghosts has prepared Dani for the constant state of alarm. The panic. The discomfort of the situation.

Not a single goddamn one told her how stupid it would be.

***

The first time Viola Lloyd rears her spectral head outside of a dream, Dani is doing her best to enjoy an incredibly pleasant spring morning. She’s been having strange thoughts--strange echoes of night terrors that have been escalating, images weaving as though shot from the depths of some great ocean--for a few months now. Has been trying her very best to take Jamie’s advice and not worry about it. One day at a time. Stop gazing into every reflective surface in the county and just...live. 

And she’s been doing that, she thinks, with a decent amount of peaceful abandon for a woman carrying an unknown beast in the depths of her psyche. She’s traveled. She’s seen much of America, and more of Jamie. She’s learned she’ll never get any better at tea, that she’s honestly not terrible at pasta, that she can talk the ear off old women who just want to stop and smell the flowers. It’s been a serene six, seven, eight years, if she lays them all end to end, and she’s glad of it. 

But the dreams are coming faster now. With more regularity. Long stretches of night fade into black and white, into memories she can feel with her whole body, but knows aren’t her own. Corsets and sweeping skirts, a sister she never had, a husband. A child. None of this belongs to Dani, so it must be her, mustn’t it? 

It scares her. She talks about it to Jamie when she wakes--sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the middle of the night; whether she’s truly awake or not, Jamie always listens. They always hunker back down, holding tight to one another, Jamie whispering into her hair that you’re still here, you’re still you, it’s all okay, Poppins. It helps, as much as anything’s going to. 

What doesn’t help is sitting here on this park bench, a list of shopping plans open in her lap, and hearing--hearing isn’t even the right word for it, it’s like a ringing voice coming up from the very back of her head--someone say, “And what on earth is that?”

Dani sits straight upright, every line of her body rigid with fear. “What...is what?”

She’s said the words out loud, she realizes when an elderly man with a basket of stale bread turns slowly to look at her. Her mouth twists itself into a rictus grin of apology, and he shuffles off, looking very much like a man prepared for his own murder at the hands of a lunatic schoolteacher. 

“Well,” the voice says, coolly amused. “That was embarrassing for us both.”

What, Dani thinks, the fuck is going on?

“What’s going on,” Viola Lloyd’s deep, accented voice says, “is truly beyond my knowledge. Do you know the last time I had this many thoughts of my own? Must have been...oh, three hundred years, now...”

Why, Dani thinks furiously, are you having them now?

“I certainly couldn't say.” Viola sounds astonished. “The last I recall, I was trying to reclaim my child--”

Flora, Dani interrupts with a rush of anger, was not your child. 

She imagines she can feel Viola’s hand flip to and fro, carelessly. “It’s all apples in the end, isn’t it?”

She’s clenching her fists in her lap, she realizes, as if there’s anything to fight. As if she could ward Viola off from inside her own body. 

“Oh,” Viola says coolly, “I wouldn’t worry just yet. I couldn’t say for sure--it’s all rather new, you must understand--but I don’t think I could do anything to you. Not yet. Look, here, I’ll try...”

Dani’s muscles strain against an invisible force that never comes. Viola chuckles. 

“See? Nothing. The lights are on, my dear, but none but you is really home.”

Then why are you awake? Dani demands. 

“Not a clue, darling. It’s nice, though, isn’t it? You really take it for granted in life.”

Take what for--

“Seeing,” Viola breathes. “I haven’t seen anything properly in centuries. I’d forgotten how bright the world was. How full of...color.”

Is it Dani’s imagination, or does Viola’s tone hold an edge of disgust on that final word?

“So, again, I find myself asking. What on earth do you call that?”

Dani allows instinct to turn her head, somehow sensing the direction Viola wishes for her to look. She finds herself staring at a young child playing at her mother’s feet. 

I--it’s... And it’s here, in this moment, faced with the nearly impossible task of explaining to the 400-year-old ghost woman who shares her body what a Slinky is for that Dani Clayton decides this whole cohabitation thing might have been a mistake. 

***

“Hang on,” Jamie says. “Hang on, she’s awake in there?”

Dani, folded nearly double on their couch with her face in her hands, nods. Her head is pounding. Viola has been, ah, what’s the polite way to put it? Running her mouth. For nearly four hours. 

“She’s got some...opinions,” Dani mumbles into her cupped hands. Jamie stops rubbing light circles into her back, curious. 

“About what?”

“Might be a shorter list, to ask what she doesn’t have an opinion about,” Dani says. At the back of her head, she feels Viola cross her arms. 

“This sounds like you are on the path to impudence, Miss Clayton.”

“But hang on, I thought--” Jamie seems to be choosing her words carefully. “I thought she was just sort of...in there. Tucked away, like the kids said. What do you mean she can see?”

Dani blows out a long breath, wishing dearly for a cigarette. “I don’t know, Jamie, I’m not the authority on carrying Victorian women around in my skull.”

“Bit nearer to it than me, Poppins.” Jamie’s smiling, plainly trying to make her feel better. Dani turns to glower at her. 

“I love you very much. Please don’t test me right now. She hasn’t stopped talking for more than twenty minutes all afternoon.”

Jamie raises her hands in surrender. “Can she...can she see me now?”

“Tell her,” Viola says. “Tell her I can see her, and her mannishly-inappropriate hairstyle.”

“I will not be saying that,” Dani mutters. Jamie raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you having a conversation now? What’s she saying?”

“Please let her know I find her insistence upon men’s trousers silly at best, her blouses are entirely too loose, and I am bewildered by the wealth of ankle she seems to find appropriate in mixed company--”

“She says you have a nice smile,” Dani says. Jamie’s eyebrows raise to her hairline. Viola makes a horrible little noise of revulsion.

“How dare you place words in my mouth!”

“You are absolutely not telling me the truth, are you?” Jamie says in the same moment. Dani groans.

“Aspirin. I am going to need so much aspirin.”

***

It’s not all the time, thankfully; Dani thinks she’d go mad if Viola were truly there at all hours, yammering away about silks and petticoats and the good old days when a person could just drop dead of the plague with no notice. Sometimes, Viola even goes days at a stretch without saying a word, as though she’s sunk back to sleep in whatever little corner of Dani’s mind she calls a bedroom. 

And then, like a thunderstorm, she emerges once more. Usually with something snappy and irritating to share with Dani.

“Are we really wearing that?”

“There is no we, Viola,” Dani grumbles. She’s in the process of trying to choose between a flower-patterned dress and a denim vest, unable to gauge what kind of day it’s going to be when she steps out of the closet and into the chaos. Business has been booming down at The Leafling, which is wonderful, but more than a little overwhelming. And Jamie, god love her, has taken to watching Dani when she thinks Dani won’t notice, always with this worried little crease between her eyes. 

It’s making her crazy, if she’s honest about it. Jamie isn’t the worrier in the relationship, and watching her slip into the role is making Dani feel worse about the whole situation. She needs Jamie to tell her it’s all fine, it’s all perfectly all right, they’re going to make it through this new weirdness together no problem. 

“My dear, we became a we the night you said the magic words,” Viola says, a bit pettily. “Or have you forgotten me already?”

“How,” Dani grits out, “on earth am I supposed to forget you? Feel like I spend every day just...waiting for you to spring up and ask some idiotic question about cars or airplanes or deodorant--”

“For a schoolteacher, you surely lack for patience, Miss Clayton.”

Dani closes her eyes, searching for strength. Her hands grope, landing on dress and vest and yanking them free. “You know what? Both. We’re doing both today.”

“We most certainly are not! Not even a glove to be found? And again with the florals! We’ve been over how tacky the florals are, Miss Clayton. Miss Clayton, are you listening?”

“No,” Dani says decisively, wriggling into the layers and looking around for her chunkiest pair of earrings. 

“You are the scandal of the town, Miss Clayton,” Viola sniffs.

***

“Does she, ah...watch when we do this?”

Dani groans. They’d been having such a nice evening--an old movie fading slowly into wandering hands, Jamie’s mouth making its way down her neck, Jamie’s fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt and tickling her ribs. She’d just flipped Jamie onto her back, was just looking to remove the deeply inconvenient articles of cloth between them, when Jamie pressed a palm lightly against her chest. 

“Not trying to be weird about it,” Jamie says, breathless. Her eyes are dark and heavy; though she’s stopped Dani moving closer, one of her legs has wound around Dani’s hip, easing her in. It’s giving Dani the worst kind of mixed message, to say the least. 

“Would you like us to put this sort of thing on hold until I find a way to exorcise the demon from my head, Jamie?”

“I did not say that. I decidedly said nothing of the kind.”

Dani lets her head fall forward, covering Jamie’s face in a fall of blonde. “Sorry. That was snippy. I just...I don’t know the answer. She’s...” She tilts her head, eyes shut, searching. “Quiet. For now.”

Jamie brushes her hair back, cups the side of her face, thumb moving in a slow arc across her cheekbone. “S’all right then. Can’t blame me being curious, can you? I mean, it’s not every day you find a third party sneaks into your bed.”

Dani leans into the soft stroke of her hand, sighing. “I don’t like it, either, you know. She’s so...judgey. I hadn’t realized ghosts could be judgey.”

“What’s she judging?” The hand on her chest slides, gripping a fistful of her shirt, pulling her toward Jamie. Dani sighs again, letting Jamie kiss her with the soft determination of someone apologizing for stopping this train in the first place. 

“Me,” she murmurs against Jamie’s lips. “You.”

“Me?” Jamie sounds affronted. “What’s there to judge about me, I’m a bloody peach.”

Dani laughs, bites her lower lip until Jamie groans. “It’s not anything personal. It’s just...the whole world is so different from what she remembers. There’s TV, jean shorts, women out there having jobs and lives without consent of their husbands...for her, it must be the Wild West.”

“Judges what she doesn’t understand, is that it?” Jamie is doing an admirable job of pretending to still be invested in this conversation, even as her hands are making short work of Dani’s sweatpants. Dani sucks in a breath. 

“I guess. Yeah. Can’t blame her for that, really.”

Jamie mulls this over, fingers tracing hipbone. Her nails bite gently into soft skin. “Does she judge us for this, I wonder?”

“Do you care?”

“Not,” Jamie says, twisting her hand and bringing their mouths together hard, “in the least.”

***

“Put it out the window.”

“I am not putting it out the window, Viola.”

“Down a flight of stairs, then! What in all cosmic reaches of hell is this for, if not throwing it somewhere it can never harm another soul again!”

Dani exhales through her nose, slowly, embracing every meditative memory of dealing with errant children. “I am not,” she says slowly to the empty apartment, “going to throw my television anywhere. And I'd really appreciate it if you’d stop making that suggestion every time I turn it on.”

“You are letting your soul rot from the inside out with this filth!” Viola is all but shrieking. Dani imagines her pacing back and forth, back and forth, her hands wild. “Your moral fiber, Miss Clayton. What of your moral fiber?”

“If MTV rots away one’s moral fiber,” Dani says, as calmly as she knows how, “then I suspect we’re all lost causes, anyway.”

Viola is silent for such a long time, Dani thinks she’s done the trick. She turns her attention back to the laundry she’s been folding to the tune of Janet Jackson. Her head bobs gently in time as the videos shuffle past--Madonna, Michael, Paula, George. Then, with the hour change, newer fare. She’s still getting around to some of these artists, still trying to work out how she feels about them. 

"Did you hear that?” Viola seethes. “What was that about an anaconda? Is this man suggesting we feed a woman to snakes? What barbarism do your people accept in this age?”

Dani folds a pair of Jamie’s socks with such deliberate care, she nearly forgets to breathe while doing it. 

“Moral fiber,” Viola hisses. “Moral fiber is wasted on this age of nudity and...and...hammertime.”

Dani finds herself desperately invested in ironing the wrinkles out of a pair of jeans with her hand until Viola goes quiet again.

***

“You could have such nice hair,” Viola croons. “Such nice hair, if you would only put them away...”

“They’re convenient,” Dani says, scraping her hair back into a pink scrunchie. Viola makes a noise of disgust. 

“They’re abhorrent. Honestly, your time and its...fashions. What do you call this?”

She’s gesturing toward the bathroom counter, to the little basket that holds all the hair supplies. Dani sighs. 

“It’s a headband, Viola. We like headbands. They keep the hair out of our eyes.”

“There are other ways. Fine hats. Lovely veils. Why don’t you own any lovely veils, Dani, do you want the common folk seeing your every decision in your eyes?”

Dani reaches for the hairspray. Behind her, Jamie bustles in with shirt half-buttoned, suspenders swinging around her thighs. Viola makes another catty little noise. 

“Any news?” Jamie asks, reaching around for a hairbrush and kissing Dani’s cheek. 

“She doesn’t like scrunchies,” Dani reports. “And she’s started calling me Dani.”

Jamie frowns. “Good sign or bad?”

“Impossible to guess.”

“Tell her you want some veils,” Viola says sweetly. “And for her to learn the value of a fine skirt.”

Dani, ignoring this, reaches around the back of Jamie’s neck and pulls her into a searing kiss. Jamie drops the hairbrush with a clatter, leaning Dani back against the counter and gripping the small of her back like she’s suddenly forgotten they’re both late for work. 

When they break apart, they’re both flushed, Dani giggling into the underside of Jamie’s jaw, Jamie’s eyes glazed. In the back of her mind, she hears Viola sigh. 

“That is truly childish, you know.”

***

It’s kind of an accidental habit, punishing her inner ghost for bad behavior by channeling her frustrations into sex. She couldn’t explain it if she tried, except to say Viola does tend to shut up when Dani’s properly distracted. Maybe it’s just the way the connection works, thinner when Dani isn’t willing to give it energy. Maybe Viola’s embarrassed. Either way, a year after Viola first speaks, her life with Jamie burns hotter than it ever has. 

It’s best when Viola is trying to run her mouth over Jamie’s fashion sense, she’s noticed. It is, in fact, the only way to shut Viola up about the aforementioned fashion sense. Which Dani intellectually understands; coming up from a world 400 years away, where women dressed in endless layers and a person’s value was often found in the shine of her jewels and the rich fabric of her skirts, slamming face-first into the 1990s must have been a trip. Truly, Viola is lucky Dani didn’t cart her out of that lake earlier. If she thinks scrunchies are bad, she should have seen the heyday of shoulder pads. 

Honestly, though, the worst thing is listening to Viola trill on about how much better Jamie could look if she’d only bow to the whims of femininity. Jamie, whose primary word on fashion has always been “can I dig a hole in this?” is perfect just the way she is. In fact, as the years go on and her jeans grow cuffs, her shorts grow shorter, her tops crop midway up her stomach, Dani thinks the world is finally suiting Jamie instead of the other way around. 

“She’s prancing around for the world to see--”

“It’s ninety-six degrees out,” Dani says in a low voice. She understands these conversations with Viola can be internalized, but she tends to wind up wearing this distant expression every time, and Jamie can spot it a mile off. Best to just mutter aloud in the sanctity of their own home. 

“She’s walking her wares up and down the block,” Viola rages on. “Not a shawl to be seen!”

“Jamie,” Dani calls from the kitchen, “have you ever in your life worn a shawl?”

“That’s, uh, one of those blankets with the fringy bits, yeah?” Jamie calls back. She’s bent over the air conditioning unit, trying to coax life into the old girl. The cropped line of her black t-shirt rides up her back, revealing glistening skin. Dani tips her head to enjoy the view. “I’ll pass on account of any blanket in this heat being like to kill me.”

“Best not to test it,” Dani agrees. Viola heaves the longest-suffering sigh Dani’s ever heard. 

“It doesn’t bother you in the least, your woman out there, where anyone could see her...her bare stomach!”

“One,” Dani says coolly, “she’s my girlfriend, not my woman. Two, I’ve never once tried to dictate her clothing, and I’m not stopping because a dead woman insists. Three, I happen to like it.”

“Like what?” Jamie strolls back to her, pushing sweaty hair off her forehead with a sigh. She stops a few inches away, rocking back and forth on her heels like she wants nothing more than to close the distance despite the mind-numbing heat. 

“Viola is commenting upon your more risqué clothing choices.”

“What? This?” Jamie grasps the exceedingly high-cut hem of her shirt and tugs it gently upward, teasing. “What’s her problem with all this?”

“It’s on display, evidently.”

“As it should be,” Jamie says almost primly. “I’m a fine specimen to behold. Learn to enjoy it, love, it’ll be faster than trying to change the view.”

This last, she says in a slightly louder voice, as though speaking to the shadow behind Dani’s eyes. She’s grinning, and Dani has time to think how strange it is, how quickly they’ve learned to accommodate Viola’s appearances into their conversations--Jamie has taken to leaving beats between her sentences, allowing for Dani to process two people speaking at once--before Jamie is wrapping both arms around her and lifting her off the floor. She squeals in surprise, delight turning to desire as Jamie licks a bead of sweat from her neck. 

“Not again,” Viola sighs. “You’ll wake the whole village.”

“Apartment,” Dani corrects, catching Jamie by the jaw and kissing her hungrily. It’s too hot for this, probably, but she can’t quite remember how to care when Jamie pulls free of her grasp and slides to her knees, taking Dani’s skirt with her. 

“It’s a nightmare, regardless.”

***

Eventually, Viola proves herself capable of learning a thing or two. Namely, that she is welcome to run commentary on anyone in the world except for Jamie. 

Even old ghosts can learn new tricks, apparently, although it takes a number of months, a great deal of sex, and one memorable weekend in which--upon Viola raging over every article in Jamie’s side of the closet for half an hour--Dani simply removed the option of clothing from Viola’s sight altogether. 

“This,” Jamie panted, both of them on the floor with a sheet draped over their tangled limbs, “is working for me in the weirdest way, Poppins.”

“I think she’s really starting to hate me,” Dani said conversationally, even as her fingers slipped between Jamie’s legs yet again. Jamie’s hips rose to meet her, one hand burying itself in her hair. 

“Well, that makes one of us, doesn’t it?”

***

Not commenting on Jamie, naturally, does nothing to stop Viola talking about every other goddamn thing in the world. 

“We’re going to have to have a long talk about not shaming women for their bodies, you know,” Dani tells her one afternoon. Viola has been tearing a young woman to pieces over her short skirt, furious that someone so pristine could soil herself with such impunity. Dani must be getting used to this in the weirdest way possible, because this kind of floral language is starting to feel second-nature. 

“I would never shame anyone,” Viola protests. “I am simply stating fact. Men do not value women as it is, and while we may win their games, we get nowhere at all if we do not play them.”

“This isn’t a game, Viola, it’s her life. Her body. She can do whatever she likes with it.”

“But I want her to succeed,” Viola insists. There’s an almost disconcerting eagerness to the words. She really truly believes what she’s saying. “A woman viewed as nothing more than a strumpet will have an even more difficult time securing a dowry, and then where will she be?”

“In college?” Dani suggests blithely. “Traveling? Living isn’t just for men, Viola, I know you know this. You refused the oath of obedience on your wedding day.”

“Of course it’s not for men’s sake alone, but when the law--”

“The law is different here,” Dani says, almost gently. “Has been for a long time. Or haven’t you noticed how well Jamie and I get along without a man to be found?”

Viola’s silence stretches so long, Dani’s sure she’s either gone back to sleep or is finally choosing this moment to let the ugly banner of homophobia unfurl. She’s been waiting for this moment for years, it seems, waiting for the ghost in her head to mimic her mother on the one and only occasion she attempted to send home a letter. 

“You’re different,” Viola says at last, very softly. Dani blinks. 

“Pardon?”

“You’re different,” Viola repeats. “Jamie is your forever. Does that young girl have her forever, Miss Clayton?”

“Well--I don't know, I don’t suppose it’s my business--”

“Perhaps she will find it in one like our Jamie,” Viola says impatiently. “But perhaps she will find instead the stones of men who have not, over four centuries, really changed all that much. Is it so wrong of me, to have a mother’s care for that?”

Dani doesn’t know how to answer. Doesn’t have the first idea, when faced with a Viola who is not simply catty for cattiness’ sake, but genuine. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, unable to find argument. 

“We just. We just don’t pick on girls for what they do with their bodies, all right? It’s...it’s cruel, and it isn’t necessary.”

Viola sighs. “Fine. But we still ought to discuss the pattern choices. Those polka dots are not flattering in the least.”

It’s only later, watching Jamie chop carrots for dinner, that Dani realizes Viola had said our. Our Jamie. 

“Oh sweet Christ,” she mumbles.

***

The change is slow. Subtle. If not for the fact of carrying this woman in her head, Dani’s not sure she even would have noticed. 

“She what?” Jamie looks up from the plant she’s tending, fingernails grimed with soil, wedding ring carefully strung upon a thick chain around her neck until she can clean up again. “She...sorry, what?”

“I can’t be sure,” Dani muses. “It sounds...crazy. But I think she’s starting to like you.”

“Well, sure,” Jamie laughs. “I’m a deeply likable human being. But this is the Lady, yeah? Same one who dragged Peter fucking Quint to his death? Same one who thinks I show too much skin?”

“I’m...not convinced she thinks that anymore.” It’s really hard to say for sure. On the one hand, it’s possible Viola has shut up about Jamie’s shorn sleeves and shorts because every time she mentioned either, Dani made it her personal life’s mission to make sure Jamie never wore anything else around the house. On the other...

“I think she looked at your butt the other day.”

Jamie raises her eyes slowly, brow furrowing. “Can she do that? Turn your eyes to something you weren’t already looking at?”

“No,” Dani says, a bit stiffly, all too aware of stepping into the trap. Jamie grins. 

“Thought not.”

“But it was different,” Dani presses on through flushing cheeks. “I mean--even if I was already looking, she was--I mean--she--”

She doesn’t know how to explain it. How the rumble in her chest, already so familiar at the sight of Jamie puttering around their home, had seemed to expand until it encompassed all of her. How it was like someone had turned the heat in the room to its breaking point. 

“I can just tell, okay?” she says, aggrieved. “She looked at your butt, and she liked it.”

Jamie makes a thoughtful face, brushing dirt off her hands with slow, deliberate motions. “So...what you’re saying is...your personal ghostie has a crush on your wife?”

Dani presses her face against the counter, letting the cool metal relieve her blush. “Shit. Yeah. I think she might.”

“This is,” Jamie says triumphantly, pressing up against Dani from behind and kissing the back of her neck, “the funniest thing that has ever happened, by a country goddamn mile.”

***

A series of events, cascading in short order, that Dani almost actually feels bad about. If one could feel guilty about putting strain on one’s personal-pan Casper. 

The Britney Spears video, for one. Viola still does not like music videos--or music, frankly, unless it involves a ridiculous number of flutes and orchestral swells--but she’s grown to tolerate them. Mostly. 

That is, until Britney sways onscreen in a plaid skirt and schoolgirl pigtails. 

“Fuck,” Dani gasps, hand coming down hard against her own breastbone. It’s like someone grabbed the dial on her blood pressure and cranked it all the way up. That someone, she suspects, being the dead woman who has been more and more present of late. 

“I--I cannot--I simply am not capable of understanding--” Viola sounds like she’s short-circuiting. “I know we are not meant to comment, but what on earth is she doing?!”

“Dancing,” Dani says sharply, trying to coax her breathing back down. Is this what a stroke feels like? Is her fucking ghost roommate giving her an actual stroke? “Viola, you’ve seen dancing.”

“She is so young! She is a child! Who is protecting this person from the world?” Viola is furious. Viola is exploding. Dani sort of wonders if her chest is going to explode, too. 

“She’s...a pop star. This is what they get paid lots and lots of money to do.” It’s a bad answer, she knows. These videos make her a little uncomfortable too, when she thinks on them too long. But Viola? Viola’s rage is a towering beast of a thing. For a minute, lungs scraping at the air, Dani is genuinely afraid this is the point where the switch flips. Where she finds herself staring at the room from the back of her own head. 

“Someone,” Viola says in a low, terrible voice, “must protect these children.”

It takes almost an hour to calm her down. Dani doesn’t turn MTV back on for a while after that. 

***

“The. The moon?” The opposite end of the emotional spectrum this time. If Viola had been nearly apoplectic over Britney’s choreography, she now sounds faint.

“You should have floated that a bit more softly,” Dani tells Jamie, who looks confused. 

“Float what, all I did was mention NASA--”

“The moon,” Viola repeats. “We have seen. The moon.”

“She’s having trouble with the moon landing,” Dani says. Jamie waves her hands helplessly.

“Poppins, I have trouble understanding the geography of Texas, we all have problems.”

“We have,” Viola breathes, “stepped foot. Upon. The moon.”

Dani pours herself another large glass of wine.

***

“How’s this, then?” Jamie gives a very small, somewhat self-conscious twirl. “Too much? Too little? Too, ah, revealing, as the ghost contingent might say?”

Dani, leaning against the bedroom wall, can’t quite find the words. Viola, too, is conspicuously silent. 

“It’s bad,” Jamie says, nodding fervently. “Yeah, y’know, I think I knew it when I picked it up. Better on the sales rack, as they say. I can just...if you wouldn’t mind popping the zip real quick...”

“Yes, Dani,” Viola says quietly. “Pop the zip.”

“You don’t even know what that means,” Dani hisses. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“It’s not bad,” Dani says quickly, ignoring the little harrumph Viola utters. “It’s very not bad. Opposite of bad, really.”

Relief floods Jamie’s face. The dress is low cut in a way very little of her clean-up clothes are, with a slit running clear up the leg. Patterned in burgundy petals, the black velvet is stark against her pale skin. 

“I won’t get run out of the convention, then? Only they said there’s a bit about drinks and networking, and it was just shy of black-tie. I could do that instead. Get a black tie. Think I’d look nice in a black tie.”

“The dress,” Viola says in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Tell her it is a nice dress.”

“It’s a nice dress,” Dani repeats with comic dazedness. “Best dress I’ve ever seen, maybe.”

“And now,” Viola says soothingly, “you go to her. Walk confidently now, shoulders back, chin up--”

“Are you...wing-man-ing me toward my own wife?” 

“Seduction requires confidence, Dani.”

“What’s she saying?” Jamie’s face has gone a curious mix of apprehensive and amused. Dani swallows. 

“Seduction requires confidence, evidently.” 

A slow grin spreads across Jamie’s face. Dani raises a hand, finger extended. 

“Don’t. Don’t make that smug face.”

“What’s smug about it?” She’s moving across the room, arms already reaching. “This is my very natural expression, I’ll have you know. The most normal expression in the world for a woman whose wife is being told to undress her by the ancient rage-ghost sharing her body.”

“Our lives,” Dani says helplessly, already pressing herself flush against Jamie, “are different than other people’s lives.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees in a low voice, sliding the sweater over Dani’s head. “Can’t find it in me to complain, though, can you?”

***

It’s weird, almost. Weirder, that it’s almost not. That the beast in the jungle, the creature Dani spent nearly a decade dreading, has pounced at last and...mostly, she just seems to want to see Dani happy. 

Jamie finds it hilarious, in that pretend-callous way Jamie has of smoothing over genuine concern with soft laughter. She doesn’t like Dani sharing her mental space with someone at all hours, Viola popping up like a wack-a-mole game on high. But, if Dani must share the space with anyone, at least--

“It’s someone who thinks I'm gorgeous.”

“You are gorgeous,” Dani replies, a bit exasperated. “Gorgeous, silly, perfect person. But my inner ghost has a crush on you, that isn’t strange for you?”

“Poppins, my life has been strange since a doe-eyed American strolled into it and told me she still saw her dead fiancé when we kissed.” Jamie reclines on the bed in a sleep shirt and underwear, hands playing lightly with the pillowcase beneath her head. “Strange is my bread and butter these days, and if I had to sacrifice you to have it any other way, we both know how it would go.”

Dani makes a mulish sound under her breath. Jamie cups a hand to her ear. 

“Say again?”

“It’s weird,” she repeats, arms crossed over her chest. “She’s weird. I always thought she’d do something bad--walk me off a roof, or strangle someone to death, or try to rob a convenience store. But mostly she just wants to protect young girls from an uncaring world and look at your butt in the shower.”

“That is...very specific,” Jamie says lightly. Dani shakes her head. 

“It’s so bizarre. The longer this goes on, the more she sees of the world, it’s like...like she’s getting more real. More Viola, less Lady.”

Jamie sits up, hand sliding to rest high on Dani’s thigh as if to shield her from harm. “But not more solid, right? Not taking up space you already rent?”

Dani shakes her head. “That’s the thing. She doesn't feel like she’s taking over. And it feels...like she should.”

“You want her to?” 

“No, no, of course not.” Dani raises Jamie’s knuckles to her lips, raining soft kisses up and down her hand until the tension goes out of her brow. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. This isn’t...what I expected.”

Jamie exhales, shifting her weight until she’s sitting in Dani’s lap. She takes a Dani’s face between her hands, kisses her long and slow until Dani eases back against the headboard. 

“This is good, Poppins. You’re a good influence. You were on those kids, and on me, and now on this Lady of yours. Maybe that’s all a ghost needs, deep down.”

Dani leans into her, lets the rhythm of kiss and gentle bite and hands slipping beneath her clothes carry her away for a while. Still, no Viola, and she’s grateful. She doesn’t like to think how that would feel, Viola popping up while Jamie’s curling her fingers deep, groaning soft against her shoulder. There is a time and a place for hauntings, and time with Jamie is something else entirely. 

She’s pretty sure Viola even respects that. Which is, like everything else, incredibly strange. 

***

Viola attends their second wedding. Their real wedding. It’s bizarre on a level Dani isn’t prepared to deal with, feeling her surface as the plans become reality. Jamie’s got flowers, naturally, and Owen’s catering, and Henry has the kids--who are kids no longer, but fully-formed people with lives of their own--running errands on the day. And Dani...

Dani is looking at herself in a wedding dress for the second time in her life, only this time, she can breathe. 

“You are radiant,” Viola says. Dani closes her eyes for a moment, steels herself. 

“Nothing else to say? No notes?”

“You chose wisely,” Viola says. Dani sighs. 

“I figured lace was classic, and someone told me I had nice shoulders once, so--”

“The dress is beautiful,” Viola says. “But I was not talking about your grooming for the day.”

Dani gives a shaky laugh. “I love her, you know. I really do.”

“I can tell.” A beat of silence. Then: “I did not understand at first. Her. Or you. I suppose I will never understand completely. But...I understand the depths of what you feel. It is a part of me, too, I think. That devotion, sinking into all the spaces where I had forgotten.”

“You’re in love with Jamie, too?” Dani asks, not really wanting the answer. Viola laughs. 

“Yes. And no. You and I are intertwined, Miss Clayton. What you feel, I feel, to a degree. More importantly, I have seen your life with her. The life you build with the reckless joy of two people doomed one day to die.”

“Thanks,” Dani says, a bit sharply. She senses Viola putting her hands up, a terribly-modern gesture of surrender. 

“You understand what I mean. It takes courage, to love this completely. To do so while carrying a burden neither of us can truly comprehend is...something else altogether. There is a strength there I could not have understood on my most willful of days.”

“You turned Death away at your own doorstep,” Dani points out, smiling. Viola is pleased. 

“I did, didn’t I? And I could never regret it, even now. But you. You are doing something so much more incredible. Loving, even knowing what ending love must craft.”

“This is a bit dark for my wedding day,” Dani points out. Viola nods. 

“You are radiant. And you are fortunate. And I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

It is the strangest wedding toast she’s ever heard, and something within Dani’s heart has never been more at peace.

***

“How’s our Lady doing tonight?” Jamie asks as Dani slips into bed beside her. She tips her head, thinking on it. Viola, as she usually is once Dani crosses the bedroom threshold, is nowhere to be found. 

“Good, I think. Calm.”

“And my wife?” Jamie looks at her, eyes serious. “You’ve been quieter lately. Fighting her less?”

“She’s been fighting me less,” Dani says. “She...likes it here, I think. Likes us. You know, I thought after this much time, she’d get bored or restless or...go back to her old ways, but...”

“But I’m just too gorgeous,” Jamie teases. Dani slings a leg across her body, holds tight to her with hands that never feel as though they can hold on hard enough. 

“I think sometimes...sometimes it’s just about remembering. What it’s like to be a person. What it’s like to be in love.”

“Mm,” Jamie agrees, fingertips drawing dizzying spirals on the bare back of Dani’s shoulder. “Well done, you. You’ve tamed your beast.”

Dani sighs, content. “I think it was a joint effort.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees, kissing the top of her head. “Because I am, famously, too gorgeous to deny.”

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was the dead of winter.

The car was driving out in the suburbs. Beyond the windows of the car was a never-ending flurry of snow that seemingly piled up in white heaps all around.

MC: Achoo!

My top half was utterly drenched. Shuddering, I drew the thick overcoat closer to my frame.

Evan: Do you need me to turn the heater up?

MC: No need. Your coat's plenty warm enough… Achoo!

Evan inclined his head, glancing at me in concern before speeding up.

Evan: Just bear with it for a little while. We're almost there.

MC: Okay…

I sniffled with care, feeling the heating within the car work its magic as the warmth rushed at my face. Finally, I felt some semblance of warmth.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

About what was probably 2 hours ago, Evan and I had taken his car to the neighbouring City to visit a large-scale Contemporary Art Exhibition.

However, we’d crossed paths with a sound-activated waterwork not long after entering the venue… Safe to say, I ended up being drenched to the bone, much to my surprise...

And that was how our much-anticipated trip to the Exhibition came to an abrupt close…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan skillfully manoeuvred around a corner and a Victorian-style building appeared before my very eyes.

MC: Huh? Didn't you say that you were going to bring me somewhere where I could fix myself back up for the time being?

He chuckled lightly, slowing his car in front of the gates.

Evan: It's too late to be heading back to Guangqi City now. It was more convenient to come here.

Evan: Don't worry. This is my home.

Evan helped me gather up his overcoat, which had become slightly slippery from the water. He then helped me up the steps to the Villa with his arm around me.

The huge door swung open, and a middle-aged man and woman came up to greet us. They were both dressed in matching uniforms and carried an air of poise and elegance around them.

Surprise coloured their faces upon seeing Evan standing there. They moved to give him each a deep bow and curtsy, respectively.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Welcome back, Sir!

Evan smiled and gently took the lead.

Evan: (Y/n), meet Uncle Chen and Aunt Wang.

MC: Hello, it's nice to meet you!

They both glanced at us before quickly exchanging a knowing look at each other. The joy on their faces seemed to brighten a tad.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Hello, Miss (Y/n)!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Only when we'd entered the warm confines of the Villa, did he willingly let me out of his grasp

Evan: How about you go get yourself changed first and come find me after?

MC: Okay!

Evan: I'll be leaving her to you then, Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: Understood, Sir. Please follow me, Miss.

I followed Aunt Wang down the hall. She slowed her pace until she was side-by-side with me. She occasionally snuck a couple of glances over at me, the amusement reflected in her eyes only growing ever more potent.

Aunt Wang: He doesn’t come here often enough. I and Old Chen here have not seen him for a very long time now…

MC: But Evan said that this was his home. So why hasn’t he been back in that long?

MC: Oh! Is it because this place’s too far from Guangqi City? He’s always so busy, so he probably doesn’t have enough time to drop in often…

Aunt Wang: You really do know him well.

MC: …...

Aunt Wang: This is actually where he grew up. That being said, he only lived here for a short period when he was still very little.

MC: I see. So this was where he lived as a kid?

Aunt Wang: Yes. But, he was the only one here back then, so he's much better off now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

She laughed as she said that, pushing open a door and leading me straight into a room.

She took a set of neatly folded clothes that had been set onto a tray from the tabletop, respectfully offering it to me.

Aunt Wang: Miss (Y/n), I'll be taking your clothes for a quick dry cleaning.

Aunt Wang: We don't have any new sets of clothes here other than the uniform, so I do hope you don't mind...

MC: Of course not! Thanks.

With Aunt Wang's aid, I soon managed to change into a set of clean and warm clothes. However…

The black satin dress snugly fitted my figure. It narrowed at the waist and stopped at the ankles. Embellished with a white apron, it came with a hint of unspoken warmth and playfulness.

Aunt Wang: Your figure is splendid, as do the way you carry yourself, Miss. Even when dressed in clothes like this, people can tell that you're special just by a glance.

MC: You're flattering me…

Aunt Wang: He has instructed that you are free to enter and leave the Villa at will. You can do as you please here.

Aunt Wang: I'll send your clothes up to you once they're done dry-cleaning.

MC: Sure, see you!

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding after Aunt Wang left. I stretched and moved my body, which had been tense ever since I entered the Villa, around.

Suddenly, I caught sight of something else on the tray where the uniform had initially been from the corner of my eye.

MC: Glasses?

I took the glasses, slightly suspicious about their whereabouts. I suddenly recalled seeing Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen wearing identical pairs… Is this also one of the rules set in place here?

Seeing how I was dressed similarly, I paused to contemplate the glasses for a few seconds before carefully slipping them on.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After that, I left the room. I had only just stepped out of the door when I bumped into Uncle Chen, who was carrying an exquisite tea set and seemed to be in a hurry.

Uncle Chen: Miss (Y/n).

MC: Hello!

He nodded at me and made his way past me. However, he soon swivelled around and stared at me in slight surprise.

Uncle Chen: You've tidied yourself up?

MC: Yep, yep!

Uncle Chen: Brilliant!

Uncle Chen: Pardon me, Miss (Y/n). I have a favour I'd like to ask you. May I?

MC: What is it?

Uncle Chen: You see, I'm just about to send his drink up to him, but the fireplace just so happens to require new coal to keep the fire going...

Uncle Chen: Aunt Wang said that she'd get onto it as soon as she finishes up on her end, but she has never done it before, so…

Uncle Chen: Changing out the coal is a rather complicated task, so I'm a little worried...

MC: I'll just take the drink to Evan for you. I'm going to look for him anyway.

Uncle Chen: Thank you! His room is the one at the end of the hall.

MC: It's nothing much, don't worry about it.

I took the tray over from him and walked towards Evan’s room.

Stopping in front of his door, I freed a hand and knocked on the door.

Evan: Enter.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I gently turned the knob and headed inside. A faint fragrance greeted me, washing over my face.

It was a very wide room, but it wasn’t decorated in an equally luxurious manner at all. It was sparsely furnished and was chic and elegant.

Evan currently had his back to me, reclining on the sofa as he flipped through a book. The soft light fell upon him, making him look as gentle and elegant as ever.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.

Am I just imagining it?

I blinked, shaking my head to clear my head of the strange thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I slowly approached him, placing the delicate, yet exquisite-looking tea set from the tray onto the coffee table.

Evan: Same as always. Not too thick.

Saying so, he flipped to another page. His gaze was still trained to the book.

Hmm? Does he think I’m Uncle Chen? Seeing how serious he was, I suddenly thought of pranking him.

I carefully poured a small portion of the thick drink from the teapot into the cup, added some hot water, and stirred. I served him the drink once it was thoroughly stirred.

MC: ...Please enjoy your drink, Sir.

Evan’s hand froze midway through turning the page. He slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with sheer disbelief.

Evan: You…

I winked playfully at him.

MC: Sir, it’ll turn cold if you don’t drink it while it’s still hot.

The amusement in his eyes became more pronounced as he took a sip from his cup, shooting me another glance.

Evan: Why are you here for this?

MC: I met Uncle Chen along the way. He was rather antsy about wanting to deal with other matters, so I decided to drop in with the stuff he was going to bring in.

Evan: So that's how it is.

He nodded, chuckling softly when his gaze fell to my clothes.

Evan: Why are you dressed like that?

MC: All my clothes were sent to be dry-cleaned. Aunt Wang said that we’d dropped in on too much of a short notice that there wasn’t time for them to prepare any suitable clothes.

MC: Still… It's my first time wearing something like this. Do I look weird?

He smiled, stretching out a hand to adjust my askew glasses.

Evan: Not at all. You're very adorable dressed like that.

I momentarily stiffened as he did his thing before smiling back at him and deliberately moving my face closer in front of him.

MC: Glad that I didn’t scare you half to death, Sir.

Evan: And why are you still calling me that?

MC: Well… Isn’t it fitting, considering how I’m dressed now? Plus, Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen address you like this too.

MC: Speaking of, is this thing a rule or something here?

Evan: …There used to be many rules set in place here, but it's much laxer now.

MC: I see… Then, what about aromatherapy? Is that also a rule? Or is it something done on a whim?

I wrinkled my nose and sniffed the air, suddenly a little curious about the lingering fragrance.

MC: What a peculiar scent; and only in your room. Is this one of the rules and regulations here?

Evan smiled, shaking his head.

Evan: Uncle Chen was the one who lit it. He probably thought that I’d take an afternoon nap, so he made all the preparations for it.

An afternoon nap? I glanced at the clock and saw that it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap.

I…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[kaislittleheadliner]

Trust Is Earned

Super big congrats to @undeadcortez for 1000 followers! That’s a huge accomplishment and you deserve every single one. Here’s my entry into the contest. (I utilized prompt one.) Idk if I’ll get this finished on time, but in case I do and this sees the light of day, this is my first ever Kai fic. He a greasy blue boy, but this idea popped into my head almost immediately and wouldn’t leave me alone.

If you want on or off my taglist, please don’t hesitate to let me know!

[A/N: I...have no explanation for this. All I can say is ‘I’m sorry’...but then again, we all know how Kai feels about apologies.]

Word Count: 1358

Warnings: Kai is his own warning, talk of murder (but nothing graphic), mention of blood (again nothing graphic), and slightly suggestive moments.

~*~

When Kai called me over after a meeting, he’d patted his thigh softly. I took his cue and knelt on the ground between his legs, resting my chin on his thigh. He had been silent for an abnormally long amount of time, eyebrows furrowed with a conflicted expression awash over his features.

“What’s wrong, Divine Ruler?” I asked softly looking up at him with concern. “You seem...troubled. Is there anything I can do?”

One of his large hands cupped my cheek softly, and I leaned into his touch. He took a deep, slow breath and let it out heavily as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“I want you to make me a promise, Little Lamb.” His voice was quiet like he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the room by speaking too loudly. I nodded my head, and Kai reached out with his other hand, pinky outstretched. I linked mine with his without hesitation, and his pinky tightened around mine. Did he think I was going to pull away or something? I turned my head just enough to place a soft kiss on his wrist, drawing a small hum from his throat. “Flesh to flesh. You know the rules. If you lie, I’ll know.”

“Yes, Kai.” Normally, I would be nervous about one of his Pinky Powers, but to be honest, something about this one felt different. The way he looked at me was...softer. If it had been anyone else, I might’ve described his expression as almost...pleading. But not Kai. Never Kai. He would never plead.

“I want you to look in my eyes and promise me that I can trust you,” he said as the fingers of his other hand tilted my chin up slightly so I couldn’t look away.

“I promise you can trust me. You always have been able to, and you always will be,” I answered with confidence - something that always made Kai proud. I’d always been a rather shy person, so Kai had been helping me become a bit more assertive. A thought occurred to me as soon as the words were out of my mouth. “Why? Have I given you some reason to doubt me?”

“No, but a man can never be too careful.” He unhooked our pinkies and brought my hand to his lips. The gesture was so intimate and unlike him that I couldn’t help but blush. What was I? Some Victorian dude who just saw a woman’s exposed ankle? “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything. If it’s within my power, consider it done,” I said savoring the feeling of his hand holding mine.

“There’s a snitch. You’re gonna help me catch them. I have a pretty good idea who it is, but you are going to help me confirm it.”

“What’s my part?” I asked straightening my posture a bit.

“I’m telling each of the four a different story. If any of the targets attempts to flee town conveniently right before the supposed time of our missions, then I’ll know which of them it is,” he explained quickly, and I could see the logic in his plan. “You, my little lamb, need to be brave for me. The real mission will be just you and me. Alone. Tomorrow night at ten. Third house on the left at the end of your street. No weapons, just wear black. Leave the mask at home. They don’t have cameras and we need to be as inconspicuous as possible. We’ll meet in the park and walk over together.”

“Yes, Kai,” I said feeling a little nervous. I’d never been on a private mission with Kai before. This felt new and...kind of high pressure. I wanted to do well for him. “Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.”

“The people you suspect...who are they?” I asked quietly. I knew there was only a slim chance he’d answer given Kai’s nature. He only told people what he thought they needed to know. If he thought it was relevant then he would’ve told me from the start. To my surprise he gave a small smile.

“You always ask the right questions. I’ve narrowed it to four suspects. Winter...Ally...Harrison...” When he didn’t continue, I raised an eyebrow curiously. “Trust me, you don’t want to know the fourth. It would only upset you.”

I’d been by Kai’s side for years even before the cult, so he knew me infinitely better than I knew myself. If he thought I’d react badly to whoever the fourth person was that he suspected, then I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. He said it was best if I didn’t know. Knowing that whoever it was would die a horribly fucked up death, I agreed. I had already felt my stomach give an uncomfortable twist at the thought of it being Winter. She’d always been kind to me, even going so far as to talk my abilities up to Kai when we first met. I didn’t want to have to think about whoever the fourth person was in that situation too.

“Can you do it?” Kai’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. “Can you be brave for me, my little lamb?”

“Yes, Kai,” I answered immediately. “You know I’d do anything for you, even be brave.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips so softly to the top of my head, lingering for longer than he normally did.

“That’s my good girl,” his low whisper against my brow made my eyes flutter shut. His hands both cupped my cheeks and his thumbs brushed the soft skin beneath my eyes. “Look at you. Absolutely gorgeous...and all mine.”

“All yours,” I confirmed.

- - - -

I showed up at the park exactly on time, wearing black just as Kai had instructed. The area was empty at first glance, but after waiting a few silent minutes, I heard footsteps. Turning around, a shock of blue hair came into my field of vision before a set of lips pressed against mine. His hands urged me backwards until my back hit the truck of a very solid tree. I grasped at his shoulders over his black leather jacket and let out a moan that he swallowed up with the kiss.

I soaked up the attention - luxuriated in it, even - but I was very confused. I’d done nothing to warrant such affection, especially since Kai never gave it out so freely. His feet nudged my legs apart and he pressed his hips up against mine.

“I knew I could trust you,” he groaned against my lips, confusing me further. “The targets I told you about tonight, they’re still in town. I knew you wouldn’t give me up. You need me as much as I need you.”

“Wh-Why wouldn’t they still be there?” I asked, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, my brain caught up. “I...I-I was the fourth? You suspected me?”

Foolish tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and Kai pulled his lips from my neck to look at me.

“Oh, little lamb, I doubted it would be you, but I had to test you nonetheless,” he said placing soft, slow kisses around my face. “And you passed with flying colors.”

“S-So I did give you a reason to doubt me-”

“No no, I promise you didn’t. The only reason I tested you was because of the timing of it all. I never seriously thought it was you,” he said kissing his way softly down to my lips again. Kai was hardly ever soft with me, so I could tell this was meant to be an apology. The gentleness and genuine affection he lavished upon me in the middle of park proved that he clearly trusted me fully now.

It almost made me feel guilty for scaring Winter’s supposed victims into leaving town. As my hands slid under his jacket onto his soft, sticky, damp shirt, I knew that when I pulled my fingers away they’d be covered in the evidence of my deception. Winter’s blood was both literally and figuratively on my hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @anonymushhy​ @booboomother​ @evanmybeloved​ @spider-starry​ @thelasthargreeves​

[wildernessuntothemselves]

GOOD MORNING!!!!! guess whos back

scrolling thru the asks abt yamqn kinda like feeling like an old english grandpa reading the daily newspaper while drinking tea cuz holy shit do ur anons have such interesting theories

tbh at the start when taehyun was introduced i had a hunch that his flirting was just to annoy beomgyu (well it definitely worked) and not bcuz he rlly had interest in us but yn, who would prob stare at a dick like she’s a man seeing a victorian’s woman’s ankles for the first time, obviously fell for him (OK BUT I MEAN WHO WOULDNT) like even if he were the evilest man on earth i’d still welcome him home with an open heart, open hands and open legs 🥰

if its false then i’ll make sure to build a crib just for his dick him and feed him grapes and shower him everyday just to see his body and kiss him goodnight and read him stories before bed and suck his dick 24/7 (I SAID IT I SAID IT)

if its true… well everybody here will be having stir-fried steaming boiling balls for dinner for free! ❤️

i didn’t know the princess was yuna (or is she? im not so sure) but moving on to beomgyu, i’m also curious if the family is aware abt their affair with yn and beomgyu.

i also heard that this series will have 8 parts and writer to writer, literally good luck. like thats all i have to say. 8 parts is just … woah

BUTTTTTT u have to take care of urself too!!!! if u dont feel like writing, dont! its u that should come first. plz take breaks whenever needed and stay safe and healthy always 🫶

me when i hear ur not taking care of urself 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

lmao imagine an old english grandpa perusing the smut tag about wanting to get dicked down by a korean boyband member

"but yn, who would prob stare at a dick like she’s a man seeing a victorian’s woman’s ankles for the first time, obviously fell for him" stttttoooop oc isn't that thirsty 😭 i mean she is but for love not dick. we're the thirsty ones

lol building a shrine for tyun's dick please give us your blessings my lord. but omg the imagery of friend balls 🤢 maybe cuz i've seen actual balls before in the anatomy lab but 🤢

yeah the princess betrothed to gyu is yuna and his sister is wonyoung but these are only namesakes really but you're welcome to imagine the idols as them if you prefer

yes 8 parts is too long for me 😭 i'm putting off studying to write this fic 😭 i'll try to focus on my studying but i'm just so excited for this fic

[bonktime]

Weather The Storm

Chapter 2: Hand Over Fist

Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader (no y/n) 1861 Lighthouse au 

Rated: E (just the whole story)

Previous // Masterlist // Next

Art by the incredible @honestly-shite​ I’m so blown away 🥰💘

Summary: Ezra settles into life in the north but he can’t seem to wrap his head around the keeper. As they dance around each other a clash with another local brings some truths into the light.

Warnings: Language, violence, a boat load of sexual tension, a bunch of victorian sexism, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort? (smut will come)

Note: Written in the 3rd person so i guess you could read as oc? but I never name or describe her, except being short. I had loads of fun writing this! Loads of descriptions of the weather because that’s who I am and also touching. Next chapter will probably be a little late but please forgive me!

Wordcount: 3630

~~~~~~~~~

The wind was like nothing else. Four days at sea and Ezra was fairly sure it was making him deaf. It roared and screamed through the wood of the boat like he's never heard. Rattling anything loose and merging with the groans of the beams and the waves into a great cacophony of noise.

There was a knack to sailing in winds so strong, one he was very glad he'd got the hang of previously else he would probably have been tossed overboard that first morning. Even so the violent movement of the ship beneath him had been a surprise. Any time he put anything down he had to keep a close eye or it would end up on the other side of the room. It made sleep exceedingly difficult when being tossed out of the hammock was a possibility, so he was lucky to get a couple of hours between shifts.

The work was hard and one particularly malicious seagull had made off with a biscuit he had been about to take a bite out of, combined with the lack of sleep and the rolling waves, it had made him irritable at best down right foul at worst. Still, the rest of the crew were likable and only jibed in a good humoured way at the newcomer. And, whenever the bite of the cold got too much, he had a new memory to warm him up. Even so as they came into port on that forth morning, he was picturing that warm bed and the flickering firelight. 

On the walk back along the sea something caught his eye. He stopped to pick it up.

 ⧫⧫⧫

Ezra arrived just as the keeper was leaving the lighthouse. She saw him crossing the causeway, as the sun peeked over the horizon, turning the sky every colour from deep blue to the brightest pink. He waved at her as she waited for him to approach, unable to help but admire her. Dressed in blue, she contrasted against the sky and its reflection in the water. She positively shone. As he got close, he smiled.

"It would appear I was wilfully incorrect about something"

"About what?" She cocked her head at him

"There is colour here. But to witness it you must have patience. "

He took a step closer. holding out his hand "I discovered this on my meander back to your charming abode, I believe you would appreciate it." In her hand he gently placed a chunk of sea glass, worn soft by the sands but still bright deep blue. He stayed close as she held it up to let the sun shine through. She could smell the sea on him, salty and something else. Looking up at him she wondered why he had been so thoughtful. "It's beautiful, thank you" he smiled at her, eyes creasing warmly.

 ⧫⧫⧫

A week passed and they talked in the mornings but their days never seemed to line up so they could only see each other for meals. Ezra spent his evenings in the living room, reading by the fire whenever he was home, and his mornings wandering the coast to distract himself from the woman in the water. 

Once on his walk he met the other keeper. The man had looked exhausted as if he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. He didn't say much, just to give his thanks to the other keeper and then he'd hurried away.

Further down the shoreline he liked to watch the market get set up. Watch the women waiting for the fishing boats to get in, preparing to gut and fillet and sell. He chatted to them sometimes, offering a hand carrying out the tables if they needed it. One girl always gave him a cup of tea after, laughing at his jokes and smiling. She was pretty and definitely would have caught his eye before. But now? He was friendly enough, and polite, but just couldn't work out why he was so uninterested. It wasn't like him. She made a nice friend though, and it was pleasant to get to know someone apart from the keeper even if he wasn't staying too long. And even if he didn't know the keeper all that well.

Ezra mentioned a woman he met at the fishery to the keeper. As much as she knew and liked her, it stung in a way the keeper couldn't quite identify. She was kind and soft and pretty and just the opposite of her. All of her hard edges and bitterness and isolation. But she didn't have any good cause or right to feel envious. Still, she thanked him for the warning, should she come across them together at least she wouldn’t be surprised.

 ⧫⧫⧫

There was another week of only seeing each other in the wee hours before both Ezra and the keeper had a shared day off.

He offered to come with her into town and help carry things. Mostly he just wanted her to show him around which she knew but she agreed anyway.

The sun showed itself as they walked together warming their skin. He watched the keeper raise her head to bask in it, smiling as she tried to explain what she needed from town with him interrupting after every item to ask questions.

She was glowing and it was starting to affect Ezra. Her skirt was pinned up a little above her ankles so it didn't dip in the sand and she'd forgone her usual headscarf and shawl to enjoy the sun. She had laughed at him as they'd left, at all his layers, called him a southern pansy. He'd grinned "Not everyone is so accustomed to this frigid weather. The cold bites those who it has not made an acquaintance with. Not unlike a wary dog."

"If you stayed a few winters here and swam in the North Sea you'd end up as hardy as any of us I reckon" he'd just smirked.

 ⧫⧫⧫

The keeper decided Ezra spoke just the way he did just to confuse people. Every time she’d asked him what a word meant he had grinned, but he did explain without condescension. He had spent nearly an hour chatting away to the grocer when she’d gone to the butcher and the baker. Upon asking, it turned out he had been trying to find a fruit he was fond of, but all the frills in his speech had led to a debate between the owners about what he had meant which he had then stayed quiet during just for enjoyment. When she had gone back to find him he was grinning ear to ear as the two men bickered. She had suppressed a laugh and sorted it out quickly before they had gotten even more irked by the outsider. Ezra had seen the laugh in her eyes though.

The final stop was the bookshop. A small place, stacked floor to ceiling and owned by the keeper’s oldest friend. She was sitting outside in the sun and jumped up wrapping the keeper in a warm hug. 

"Lass you work too fucking hard. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you in Christ knows how long!" 

She grinned; the first time Ezra had seen it. He should make her grin more.

"Aye I'm starting to agree, how're the bairns at this rate they'll have grown a foot before I can see them again. Oh, shit sorry.” She gestured to him “This is my lodger Ezra, Ezra this is Amelia."

He wonders vaguely if everyone the keeper knows can give looks that pierce the soul. He gives the shopkeeper a nod and her face breaks into a smile. As they headed into the shop, clouds began to gather overhead.

"Come on pet, I've got something new I just know you'll love."

The shop seemed ready to burst at the seams. Ezra paroused but couldn’t stop himself listening into their conversation.

“How have you been, really? I worry about you all alone up there.” Amelia asked her eyes full of concern. Ezra subtly rounded a bookshelf so he wouldn’t seem nosey.

“I… Well I’ve been worse like. Every day is easier and I’m not alone at the moment as you’ve seen.”

“You seem to collect sailors, you.”

The keeper laughed “I just like the company! And I like being alone the rest of the time as you well know.”

“Oh aye the company. Nothing to do with,” Amelia lowered her voice “I divn’t nah… the roguishly good looks? You always loved a bit of trouble, dafty that you are”

“Hey! He just rents the room, we’re… friends I guess.” Ezra wished he could see her to gage how she really felt.

“Sure you pet.”

 ⧫⧫⧫

20 minutes later they left, a copy of Great Expectations wrapped carefully in tissue paper and stowed at the bottom of her bag, surrounded so it would stay dry should it rain. As they stepped out a woman seized the keeper's arm, she was accompanied by the vicar and glaring viciously. The keeper swallowed and introduced Ezra, he saw how uncomfortable she was, how her mood had changed since just minutes before.

"The ever elusive keeper shows herself yet again" the vicar speaks, face impassive, "I thought you might have died since you don't attend church, perhaps you'd met god's reckoning after… being so loose with your commitments." 

Ezra watches her jaw clench "I have told you before, when I work the night, I cannot attend in the morning."

The other women smirked "Work the night is one way of putting it." She eyed Ezra.

The vicar sighed "It is disappointing you disobey god's will. Your father should have married you off while he had the chance. Then your husband would keep you in line. If he could see you now, he'd be so ashamed"

Ezra froze but before he could react, he saw the rage pass over her face, fiery and passionate. She couldn't help it, she saw red, couldn't stop herself. She punched the vicar square on the nose.

The other woman shrieked. "What is wrong with you? You've hurt him!" Indeed, blood did start to drip out of his nose but he straightened himself up and grabbed the keepers arm pulling her close and raising his fist to strike.

"You're nothing but a worthless little whore. It's no wonder your sailor left as soon as you-" he was cut off by Ezra's fist, catching his jaw and sending him sprawling.

"I will not abide you speaking to the lady in this manner." He shook out his hand, and stepped over him, bending to seize his hair and pressing his blade to his neck "And to strike her?" He scowled down at the man who was opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. "What is that mantra you holy men spout? Turn the other cheek." The keeper's jaw dropped, she had known Ezra was rough around the edges but to strike a man of God, to threaten him, for her?

Against the incoming storm, it was as if he'd grown. Become huge and monstrous and brutal in a way she hadn't seen, a glimpse of what lay beneath all his beautiful words and pleasant disposition. It moved something in the keeper, something dangerous. Not many people would far defend her, let alone in such a way. 

Lightning flashed overhead forking down to meet the sea, in the light she could see the hard glint in his eye, the one he'd worn when they'd first met, even as he smiled. This was a man who had done far worse and all she could feel was grateful. It squeezed around her heart.

"I suspected as much. You must have forgotten yourself for a moment." Ezra stood and pulled the vicar to his feet, squeezing his arm harshly still baring that viscous grin as he pulled him close and murmured "I'd truly hate for you to suffer another grievous lapse in judgement, who knows what may become of you."

The keeper looked at the other woman "Judge not lest ye be judged? You had better pray for forgiveness.” She stepped forwards shoulders back as thunder rumbled around them “There's a storm coming and your husband works the water. I'd hate for the lord to compel me to make an error." The woman gasped at her a cold glare. Ezra looked at the keeper as she straightened out her dress. He could have laughed at her nonchalance, it gave him pause, how he saw her quiet power. She would make quite the foe. She gave Ezra a nod and he took her arm as they walked away.

He can feel how tense she was through her arm, despite her calm demeanour panic and anxiety were coming off her in waves. They walked back along the beach in silence as the heavens opened, pouring rain down around them. Ezra frowned to himself, perhaps with all the flitting around he had forgotten how to behave. Had lost some of himself, every old sin chipping away at his humanity was taking its toll. He'd come here for some fucking quiet, why did he always find trouble, or make it? Perhaps those years… he wasn't good. Punching a priest though? The keeper was a menace.

Half way he stopped turning her to look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married?" she looked away from him at the waves. White horses were being blown, throwing spray up into the air.

"I never was. He left before we could."

The rain beating down made it hard to look up at him, it dripped into her eyes and ran down her face like tears. The rain and thunder were near deafening as he looked at her face, saw the pain and the other emotion, the one he can't identify.

"What happened?" He nearly has to shout to be heard over the storm and the waves. Reaching for her, taking her hand and feeling the calluses on her fingers.

"What always happens! I fell in love, and I thought he did too. But after, after we. He did what sailors always do." she threw off his hand and stepped back, the sea lapping at her ankles.

"What is it sailors always do? I do not appreciate you painting us all with such broad strokes." Now he's shouting, a bit out of frustration but mostly to be heard as the wind begins to howl, merging sea spray and rain until the only thing he could see was her.

"He sailed away!" She was suddenly very grateful for the rain; he couldn't see the tears that had rolled down her face. He frowned at her a deep furrow in his brow. "And so, he's right! I am a whore and probably everything else too." She looked wild, wind whipping her skirt to and fro. She glared at him, daring him to judge her. "I was relieved! I didn't want to marry him, he wanted to leave and I didn't. I enjoyed what we did!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. No idea how he would react. "He could’ve said goodbye" she whispered it, let the crash of the waves muffle the sound.

To her surprise he tugged her hand away from her face, looking into her eyes, jaw set, rain plastering his hair to his head.

"Let's go home."

Keeping her hand gently clasped in his he led her along the beach to the island.

 ⧫⧫⧫

Both of them were soaked to the bone by the time they had re-entered the cottage. Ezra could feel the keepers hand trembling in his.

"Go change out of that wet garb, I'll light the blaze in the living room and set the water to boil"

She nodded and entered her room as he did his own. He quickly pulled off his wet clothes and tugged on a fresh shirt surprised to hear her call out to him.

"Ezra, can you help me?"

He entered her room slowly, still only in his long shirt, taking it in. The bed was wide enough for two and had as many blankets as his own, there was a small wardrobe and a chest and a stack of books on a bedside table. On top of which he saw the glass he'd given her, not yet added to the chime in the window.

She was in her corset and chemise, back to him, dripping onto the rag-rug on the floor.

"I can't seem to," she was reaching behind herself. "With it wet and my damn swollen knuckles I can't loosen the tie. Please, can you help?"

He swallowed thickly as she looked back at him then away. Gently he reached for her, big hands and nimble fingers beginning to loosen the knot. "I'll take a look at that hand if you would allow me, check you haven't done any tangible damage." She nodded.

As he finished, he couldn't help brushing his fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder. It was soft and warm under his cold fingers. She stiffened slightly and turned to him, looking up at his face. His frown remained but that steely glint was gone, giving way to wide sad eyes. She looked at his hands, big, strong and bruised. She took one in her own, inspecting the cut across his knuckles.

"You needn't hurt yourself in defence of me, I shouldn't have hit him." She gently rubbed her thumb over the swelling to check her hadn't dislocated anything and tried to ignore how he tensed.

"I could not abide his hurting you, not with his words and certainly not with his fist" he turned her hand mirroring her gesture to feel her knuckles, they were swollen but nothing felt out of place. He kept a hold of her hand as he looked back up at her face.

She looked into his eyes, deep and dark enough to fall into. They stared back into hers without hesitation. She held his hand for just a moment longer before letting go. As she did, he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

He didn't give her the chance to thank him.

 ⧫⧫⧫

When she had dressed and headed down stairs, Ezra was pouring tea, he looked up. She was still dishevelled and shivering a little.

"Come on, let's get warmed up"

He led her through to the living room and sat her down on the rug in front of the fire handing her a cup of tea. Sitting down across from her he spoke, his legs brushed hers as he stretched out but he didn’t move away.

"What I cannot apprehend is why you don't want to depart this glacial place. You are not treated compassionately and there are locations all over with preferable climates."

She gave a small smile. "Because I like it here, it isn't perfect but I have my friends and my work and my home and where would I go? How well do you think the world would treat a woman like me?"

He shrugged, "People may surprise you. They have me on many occasions. I even astonish myself sometimes"

"Or they'll behave exactly as they always do. People are predictable like that." She sighed and sipped her tea. The warmth of the fire finally took an effect. "It seems we are at an imbalance. You know plenty about me, although not because I wanted you to. How about you tell me where you got that accent?"

He grinned. "I suppose I can reveal a little information. If only for the sake of equality."

So, he told her. Told her about his home, his mother, about when she passed. How he had to work to survive and found that he didn't get seasick. He picked up words and dialect wherever he went, combining them with his own until he wasn't sure what he used to sound like. She had laughed at him upon learning he wasn't a strong swimmer. 

"I can't believe you haven't been thrown overboard and drowned yet! You're unbelievably lucky!" He'd loved the sound.

He missed out a lot of the more unsavoury details of the work he’d done but the whitewashed version was honest enough. How going back to where he grew up still hurt, he had only visited once. Instead, he travelled, worked, and enjoyed himself.

"I don't know. You said I must be lonely here but you, you travel alone. You can't make good friends, you've no home to return to." She watched his face. "It seems you're far more alone than I am"

His brow furrowed "We can agree to disagree on that."

"And I still don't understand why you're here. Why aren't you somewhere warm?"

He shrugged and avoided the question, "If I wasn't, I would not have had the astounding pleasure of meeting you."

She frowned at how he ignored her question, but brushed it off.

The rain was finally beginning to ease as Ezra dozed off. Sitting on the floor slumped against the chair by the fire. He looked peaceful, no shadows playing behind his eyes, so she didn't wake him. Instead as the sun dipped, she laid a blanket over him and went to light the light.

The winds had made for a tense shift. Always keeping a weather eye on the sea for ships that might have got into trouble but eventually the sun rose and she stopped the clockwork and went back to the cottage.

Ezra had already left to get to The Mistress and she was surprised at the slight sting that they hadn't got to say goodbye. Next time she'll wake him.

She was even more surprised by how much she missed his company.

~~~~~~~~

Glossary

Hand over fist: Going forth rapidly in an endeavour, comes from ‘hand over hand’ when climbing the rigging.

Bairns: Kids, affectionate

Divn’t nah: Don’t know, couldn’t not include this

Dafty: fool, idiot, affectionate

~~~~~~~~

Taglist

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