#Jacob X Emma

[embraceyourdestiny]

🥺

Zach Tinker showed there’s a secret where Jacob can pick up Emma’s bracelet and now I HAVE to see how that comes up later bc that’s so cool

[noyoucantpinmedown]

The Quarry ships + Taylor Swift songs

Dylan/Ryan: Gorgeous, Labyrinth, Lover, The Great War, willow, The Archer

Nick/Abi: Treacherous, State of Grace, Question...?, Fearless, Sweet Nothing, Cruel Summer

Emma/Abi: Cornelia Street, Delicate, dorothea, cardigan, Paris, gold rush

Laura/Max: Lavender Haze, Paper Rings, You Are In Love, peace, Mine

Jacob/Emma: august, Midnight Rain, Wonderland, Blank Space, Say Don't Go

Kaitlyn/Jacob: seven, Dress, You Belong With Me, Everything Has Changed, Stay Stay Stay

Emma/Kaitlyn: Glitch, Suburban Legends, cowboy like me, Don't Blame Me, Sparks Fly

[cece693]

Replacement (Enoch O'Connor x M! Reader)

I wanted to add something to the relatively small pool of fics for this fandom. All characters are of age and can be envisioned as their book or movie counterparts.

Summary: As a healer, you naturally seek to care for those around you. So it was easy to befriend Jake when he first entered Miss Peregrine's loop, confused and hurt by his grandfather's passing. However, your best friend doesn't see it that way.

It was official. Enoch hated Jake. Not that the other children noticed, or if they did, they were smart enough to not mention it. Maybe it was jealousy. Perhaps he was bothered by how Emma's eyes sparkled with interest whenever the American boy was around. Or maybe, it was the disruption to their routine, as Jake's presence always seemed to stir the loop like a stone tossed into a still pond.

But Olive knew the truth, for she had quickly discerned Enoch's emotions behind the venomous words he threw at Jake whenever he came near. It wasn't about Emma or their routine being disrupted. It was all because of you.

From the moment Jake first stumbled into their world, he latched onto you—an oddball healer with a gentle touch and ability to mend the deepest cuts, both physical and emotional. So when Jake arrived, it was natural for you to be his guide, explaining things in a way that made the strange world of peculiars feel less threatening.

Naturally, Enoch hated it.

Before Jake arrived, you’d spend every minute by his side—looking over his shoulder, letting out a bright smile whenever his creations came alive. Enoch secretly treasured these moments, feeling comfortable in your presence and falling for you more each day. But now? Now it was Jake this and Jake that.

No space was safe from Jake's influence, nor did the American make it easy to escape his presence. It seemed like whenever Enoch and you were together, he appeared from thin air, begging you to help him with something. It was as if the American knew of Enoch's feelings and acted to rile him up, whisking the attention of the only person he actually liked. It's not as if there weren't any other children who would be happy to spend time with the American, why did he seek you out specifically?

Every time he saw you two together, a storm brewed inside him, and a tight knot formed in his chest. Enoch wasn’t stupid. He understood what jealousy was, but this wasn’t just jealousy. This was fear. Fear that you were slipping away from him. Fear that Jake was replacing him.

One day, it all became too much.

Enoch was sitting at the table in the library, flipping through one of his old, tattered books on embalming techniques, though his focus had long since disappeared. His mind, as usual, was on you. He had tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, but the bitter feeling gnawed at him constantly. And then, as if the universe was mocking him, you and Jake walked into the room together.

Jake was talking about something, gesturing wildly with his hands, and you were laughing—a bright, carefree laugh that Enoch hadn’t heard in days.

That was the last straw.

"Seriously?" Enoch snapped, slamming his book shut, startling you both. Jake stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion, but Enoch didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on you, his voice sharp and biting. “Do you really have to follow him around all the time?”

Your smile faltered, a confused frown replacing it as you looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Enoch’s voice grew colder, harsher. His jealousy had festered too long, and now it spilled like poison. “Ever since he got here, it’s like you’ve forgotten everyone else exists.”

Jake shifted awkwardly beside you, clearly unsure of what to say, but Enoch didn’t give him a chance. “You’re spending so much time with him, acting like he needs you for everything. It's pathetic."

Your eyes narrowed, a flash of anger crossing your face. “He’s new here, Enoch! He does need help adjusting. And I’m not just going to ignore him because you—”

“Because I what?” Enoch cut you off, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m not needy enough for you? Because I don't fawn over you like a mutt every second like he does?””

Your mouth opened slightly, stunned by his words. Enoch could see the hurt forming in your eyes, but he was too wound up to stop now.

“Face it,” Enoch continued, his voice colder now, “you just want to feel like you matter to someone, right? Like you have some purpose. Well, here’s the truth—you’re not needed here. Jake can deal just fine on his own and I don’t need a dessolent friend.”

Your face twisted in hurt, and that twisted something deep inside Enoch. You stared at him, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. “You’re wrong,” you finally said, voice breaking. “But I guess I was wrong too, thinking you were my best friend.”

Before Enoch could respond, you turned and stormed out of the room, leaving him and Jake alone. The American looked like he was about to say something, but Enoch shot him a cold glare, daring him to speak.

Days passed. Days where Enoch didn’t see you, didn’t hear from you, and the space you used to fill in his life became an empty void he couldn’t bear to acknowledge. You weren't just avoiding him, you had begun to spend even more time with Jake, much to Enoch's dismay.

He tried to act like it didn’t bother him. He pretended he didn’t care when he saw you laughing as if his absence meant nothing to you. But it did. It hurt more than Enoch was willing to admit. It was only when Olive pushed him to accept his mistake that led him to stand at your door, long after the other house's inhabitants had gone to bed.

Enoch stood there for a long moment, his hand raised to knock, but his usual stubbornness kept holding him back. What if you didn’t forgive him? What if you’d already moved on and replaced him for good?

Taking a deep breath, Enoch knocked.

After a few agonizing moments, the door creaked open, and you stood there, blinking groggily at him in the dim light. You looked surprised to see him, and Enoch couldn’t blame you.

“What do you want, Enoch?” you asked, your voice flat, distant.

“I…” Enoch faltered for a moment, struggling to find the right words. His usual snark and bravado were gone, replaced with something more vulnerable, more uncertain. “I came to…apologize.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, clearly not ready to let him off the hook so easily. “For what?”

“For what I said,” Enoch muttered, not meeting your eyes. “For being a complete prat.”

Your expression softened, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. Enoch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, I didn’t mean it. Any of it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I was just…jealous. Of Jake. Of the time you’ve been spending with him.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Jealous? Why?”

Enoch hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. He could either admit the truth or lose you for good. Taking a deep breath, he finally met your gaze. “Because I like you,” he confessed in a whisper. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and seeing you with him made me feel like I was losing you. Like I wasn’t needed anymore. Like I was being replaced.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, and Enoch braced himself for your response. He had no idea how you would react, but he had to say it. He couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t matter anymore. You stood there for a long moment, staring at him, processing everything. Then, slowly, you stepped aside, opening the door wider.

“Come inside, Enoch,” you said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

And for the first time in days, Enoch felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could be fixed after all.

[zelcii]

millard: today's officially one year since i've had surgery.

hugh: wooo congrats king!! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

millard: surgery on my shoulder??? from when i got shot???

hugh: wooo congrats king!! 🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲

[blueghosthandsfriend]

Infected Dylan lenivy, Nick furcillo, Jacob custos, Emma mountebank aesthetic

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Favorite Otps/Pairings: Jacob Palmer & Hannah Weaver (Crazy Stupid Love) “Me sitting over there for the past two hours not being able to take my eyes off you is a fact."

[blubary]

Second post for @sargeantsarmy !!!!! Happy birthday again!! (Abi’s dog is sarg’s headcanon btw 🫶🫶)

[stenclastiel]

Spoilers of desolations of devil’s acre

I feel like the climax of the desolations of devil’s acre would have been better if the prophecy was about the main character himself and not the side character

like imagine jacob was not just the descendant of the librarian, but the legit reincarnation of the ancient librarian, and instead of becoming a hollowgast, he gets to have a true form that resembles a gigantic hollowgast because ultra-ancient peculiars resembled hollowgast and the hollows look like that because they essentially defaulted to a corrupt version of the ancient peculiars

and jacob destroys caul and returns the souls to its rightful shelves

[hedwig123]

OK a few more

[lionmythflower]

what are your favorite mphfpc ships?

uhhh lemme see

Ok so starting off stong with

Fugh (Fiona and Hugh)- absolutely loved them they're so cute

Fiona, Millard and Hugh - they're rlly cute and we also need more polyam relationships

Enoch x horace- gays. That's it (Jk they would js have a great relationship romantic or platonic and I love them)

Ricky x Jacob- DOES NOT GET ENOUGH ATTENTION BRO. Actually so sad that this ship doesn't have like anything for it 😭

Emma x Bronwyn- wlw guys I love them

thats it! I don't like the canon Jacob ships bc a lot of them are kinda forced I feel. But that's js my opinion! U do u :)

[embraceyourdestiny]

Tbh the problems with Jacob and Emma’s relationship is all in the details. Jacob says “take a picture for your subscribers or whatever” I can easily see Jacob being dismissive of Emma’s work and that would get annoying SUPER FAST if I was her. And only after less than 3 months?? I 100% bet Emma simply saw the trajectory of their relationship, or lack there of, and jumped ship before it was too late like we ALL would. Jacob was making fantasies up in his head because of the idea of a summer whirlwind of romance after EIGHT WEEKS?? And probably even less bc of getting to know each other. Obviously they’re both to blame and just should’ve never been together but they’ll never make me hate Emma

[zelcii]

passing by (rewritten) | millard nullings

8:43. every morning, like clockwork, you ran toward the house with nothing but joy in each step. arms held close to your sides, your floral dress catching the wind as your feet pounded the cobblestones, making your way toward the home. you always wore flowers in your dress, in your hair, growing in your mind. it was like you lived in a garden only you could see. and i'd be there, waiting for you, always on the third step, just near the pot of flowers fiona left the day before.

“hello, gorgeous,” you’d say, your voice light as you caught your breath, a spark in your eyes that always made me wonder how you could look so alive. 

i’d reach for your hand, feeling the soft warmth of your palm against mine, and pull you closer. “darling,” i’d say, bowing dramatically as our hands intertwined. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“oh, you know,” you smiled in a way that made me feel like you knew more than you were saying. “just passing by,” you’d reply, always the same, always with that gleam in your eyes that made me feel like the rest of the world was far, far away.

we’d walk the shores of cairnholm, the lighthouse a distant silhouette, the waves lapping at our ankles. we'd swim in the shallows, never venturing too far, just enough to feel the cool water tugging at us. by 9:00, we’d be lying in the sand, the grains sticking to your hair, though you never cared. your fingers would weave through my hair in slow circles, gently combing through it as if you could see every strand. i’d watch you, your eyes turned toward the sky as if you could hear the ocean speaking to you in a way i never could.

you made me believe that the world was bigger than what we saw. like we had all the time in the world. but that was the problem, wasn’t it? because by nightfall, the loop would reset, and you’d be gone. the memory of you would stay with me, but you wouldn’t. 

i’d watch you then, stealing glances when you weren’t looking, when your gaze was lost in the horizon. there was something about the way you looked at the sea—like it held answers, or maybe just a piece of you. my smile never faded, like i was fighting the urge to let go of something fragile.

i told you everything i could in those moments, everything but the truth. i’d tell you about the book you lent me, how i was nearly done. i talked about the way fiona’s plants were growing faster than usual. only the things that concerned your world. the world beyond the loop. a world that now seems so distant. 

i’d stumble over my words, trying to remeber everything that happened on september second, nineteen-forty. because i could never tell you how miss peregrine stopped asking about you. or how jacob had supper with us again last night. i couldn’t say it—couldn’t say that you were fading in more ways than one. though i suppose none of it would matter because tomorrow, you won't remember a thing.

the next morning, i was early. too early. i stood by the steps again, the house quiet behind me. the other kids were already up, busy washing their clothes and cooking for supper. doing whatever chores they had to do that day.

i sat there, waiting for you. always waiting for you.

“hello, gorgeous,” you said, that same familiar smile on your lips as you approached. i reached for your hand, feeling the weight of what i couldn’t say pressing against me. 

you leaned into me, and i kissed your cheek gently. i didn't do that the days before, but today felt eerily unlike the others. i needed the warmth of your skin to anchor me. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

you laughed, that same soft sound. “just passing by,” you said, but this time, i thought to question whether you meant something deeper than that.

as we walked, the wind tugging at your dress, i kept you close. i didn’t let go of your hand. i couldn’t. every time the loop reset, you seemed to stray a little farther away, even when you were right next to me. 

we walked the same paths as always, but i kept you closer this time, feeling the brush of your dress against me as the wind caught it. i wondered, then, how you were outside of the loop. have you moved on? found a husband, and built a home. do you remember me? did you miss me the way i missed you? you must have been in your eighties by now

when i looked at you, that hope, that ache in my chest, my heart kept whispering the same question. were you still alive?

the sky shifted into shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over cairnholm. we walked in silence, your arm brushing against mine. with each step, the weight in my chest grew heavier. the knowledge that time, something i hadn't truly experienced in nearly a century, was slipping through my fingers.

“i love you, i really do,” i said, my voice breaking the quiet.

you laughed softly, and i felt it in my bones. a sound that once brought me so much comfort now felt like an echo, distant and fragile. of course you knew that. how could you not?

“obviously,” you teased, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “tell me something i don’t know."

i paused, the words catching in my throat. what more could i say that you haven't already heard? but there was so much—so much that i had never found a way to tell you, not fully, not in the way you deserved. i looked down at my feet, feeling the pebbles of cobblestone under my shoes. for a moment, i struggled to find my voice again.

“alright,” i started slowly, my gaze lifting to meet yours. “you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.” i could feel my heart beating louder with each word, the vulnerability almost too much to bear. “it is a blessing, by the birds or by whatever forces of the universe, that you are my everyday.”

i stopped walking, turning to face you, my hands trembling as i reached for yours. “i love you in ways i cannot express,” my voice softened, barely above a whisper. “and i am overflowing with words that i simply do not have.”

there was a silence after that, one that stretched between us like a vast, unspoken truth. i felt raw, exposed, like every piece of me was laid bare before you.

when i got back to the home, supper was waiting, and the others gathered around the table. jacob was there again, sitting beside emma. i tried not to watch the way they looked at each other, their stolen glances. i could barely hear any of the children at the table, my mind still full of you. fiona and hugh sat across from me, hands intertwined under the table. it made my stomach churn to watch them. they didn’t know how lucky they were—to have time that didn’t vanish, to have a love that didn’t dissolve with the sunrise.

after dinner, i slipped away to the parlour, sitting in the quiet. my mind was spinning. i didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel the emptiness growing in the space where you should've been. next to me. 

that’s when olive appeared, her small feet making heavy, deliberate steps as she approached me. 

“millard!” she chirped, her voice brimming with the kind of enthusiasm that only a child could muster. i had to remind myself that she couldn't see the whole world unravelling around me. “what’s the matter? you're all gloomy.”

i lifted my gaze, meeting her wide, innocent eyes. how could she ever understand? “nothing, olive. just... thinking.”

“aboutttt??” she perched herself on the edge of the chair beside me, her small feet kicking rhythmically against its legs. her eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief. “you mean the girl, don’t you?” her voice took on a sing-song quality, leaning forward with eager anticipation. “tell me about her, will you?” olive had always been a dreamer, crafting stories of grand romances and fairytale endings.

with little hesitance, i started, “she’s the sweetest.” the weight of my unspoken sorrow sinking deeper with each breath. “a caring soul, full of nothing but love, much like you.” 

olive’s face lit up at the compliment, her round cheeks flushed with pride. “really?” she asked, bouncing slightly in her seat. 

“she’s in love with poetry and passion,” i continued softly, my voice laden with a bitterness that belied the gentle words. “and everything she can feel but cannot see.”

olive tilted her head, her eyes wide and curious. “like you?” she asked, her voice brimming with innocence, not minding the pain woven into my words.

i swallowed hard, struggling with the weight of my own emotions. “yes,” i said, my voice trembling slightly. i looked at her, trying to convey the depth of what i felt. “like me.” but the truth was, it wasn’t the same. i spent my days chasing a ghost, an illusion of you that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. olive didn’t understand. she couldn’t. her world was still full of dreams and possibilities, while mine was shadowed by the echoes of a love that slipped through my fingers.

when miss peregrine came to me, i already knew what she was going to say. her steps were slow, her voice low as she told me that you were sick—that you were fading faster than she’d thought. but i knew. i had felt it for weeks, even if i didn't want to admit it. 

i left the loop alone the next morning. leaving you to get to you. it felt strange to walk the familiar path without you—my steps heavy with dread—though i suppose the pavements weren't so familiar with new cracks and patches of moss. when i reached your house, i knocked, my heart racing in my chest. your voice, weak but still you, called for me to enter.

your home felt different. the warmth was gone, but nearly everything remained the same—your lace curtains, the smell of the sea mingling with the scent of warm tea. i sat beside your bed, taking your hand in mine, the weight of all those unspoken words pressing down on me.

when you opened your eyes, i could see the years on your face, the way time had touched you in ways it never would me. i should’ve been there, growing old with you like i promised. instead, i’d been stuck in a place where time couldn’t touch me, and you had moved on without me.

“hello, gorgeous,” i said, my voice breaking as i pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

you smiled, but it was weaker than before. “millard…?”

i held your hand tighter, not wanting to let go. “don't worry, love,” i whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “just passing by.”

[profound-bouquetbird]

I really need to stop getting into fandoms when I have a full inbox 😔

But, yeah. I've gotten into The Quarry pretty late into the fandom. If there is any of you out there, send requests! (when they're back open that is)

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[ar3-y0u-l0st]

》 🄼🄸🅂🅂 🄿🄴🅁🄴🄶🅁🄸🄽🄴'🅂 🄷🄾🄼🄴 🄵🄾🅁 🄿🄴🄲🅄🄻🄸🄰🅁 🄲🄷🄸🄻🄳🅁🄴🄽

Requests: Open / Closed

That's what I can do — take the life of one thing and give it to another, either clay like this or something that used to be alive but ain't anymore.

- ALMA PEREGRINE

- JACOB PORTMAN

- EMMA BLOOM

- ENOCH O'CONNOR

- MILLARD NULLINGS

- FIONA FRAUNFELD

- HORACE SOMNUSSON

- HUGH APISTON

- VICTOR BRUNTLEY

- BRONWYN BRUNTLEY

- OLIVE ELEPHANTA*

- CLAIRE DENSMORE*

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(*) Will not, under any circumstances, write smut

(**) If you're into them then I won't deprive you ig