#and use elixirs and stuff

[shadowsrook]

btw mapping my bg3 playthrough in my head where i make sera and she's gonna be a swarmkeeper ranger and she's gonna kiss karlach on the mouth

[faranae]

Art Fight 2024

I did the thing again, much simpler this year though. As always, Tumblr's probably gonna make them potato quality. lol

I’m ~Faranae over on Art Fight; Team Stardust this year!

Let's goooooo!

[wewontbesleeping]

lol it’s kind of funny seeing kids with giant water bottles now bc when I was a kid and my family was out somewhere and we got thirsty, our parents would tell us to swallow our spit. like lmfao…

[parcai]

just cuz i finally stfu doesn't mean im not a winner, lvl 165 ⚖️ i am SOOOO abt 2 beat this game by end of my month membership, first max PLSPLSPPSPLSOSL

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 326

Adjective: Dysfunctional

Noun: Elixir

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Dysfunctional: not operating normally or properly; deviating from the norms of social behavior in a way regarded as bad

Elixir: a magical or medicinal potion; a preparation supposedly able to change metals into gold, sought by alchemists; a particular type of medicinal solution

[pennyellee]

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: ELIXIR pairings: mafia hoseok x female reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s, arranged marriage, childhood friends to lovers word count: 22K/tba release date: 02.18.25 beta read by one and only @chaoticpuff17

prompt 1: "And I won't be satisfied till we're taking those vows" prompt 2: you were apparently promised to the heir of Jung's criminal empire since birth, not that you ever took that ongoing inside joke seriously. You grew up alongside the said man, yet your mind is conflicted about upholding your part and saying I do until one drunken night reveals a lot more than you'd like.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | explicit language, hurt men's ego, mild yandere behaviour (warnings were reduced to avoid spoilers)

author's note: ionoiafhoianfoaif, yalllll, I was writing this like foreveeeeerrrrr. So this is where it all basically started in my head when I created the retelling of what happened around the year 1996. Still, somehow Champagne Confetti and Anubis got out first, mainly because I will continue them, but this is one shot exclusively (I'm open to filler tho). Why? The story of Princess and Hoseok never dies throughout both the fics that are already out and those that will only come. Mainly with Anubis' chapters, you'll get to see them. I'm just as nervous to put this out as I am with every fic but very excited to throw Elixir in the world. I'm simultaneously working on my MA diploma thesis so bear with me when I'm radio silent, but I love you all! I appreciate you reading my stuff my good little fairies ♥ I'll see ya at Hobi's birthday! ♥ Enjoy!

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, bloodshed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, and old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

main masterlist 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑

Winter 1995 You spotted Hoseok seated at the table, a serene picture of composure, his fingers curled around a steaming cup of coffee he enjoys in the mornings.

He looked up at your approach, his eyes locking onto yours. There was no trace of anger on his face, no sharp edge to his expression. If anything, he seemed calm, almost disarming.

"Hobi—" you started before he quickly interrupted you.

"Sit down," he said a bit more firmer than he'd want to, gesturing to the seat across from him.

You hesitated for a moment before lowering yourself into the chair, acutely aware of the weight of the moment. A plate of food sat before you, untouched. Your stomach churned, but the thought of eating felt impossible.

"Are you?—"

"I'm not mad, no," he cut you off gently, surprising you, as if he knew what you were suggesting before you even managed to let those words roll on your tongue.

"So?—" you echoed hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know what to expect now. Maybe it would be better if he'd be mad and you knew that you have to make it better just like it used to be, instead he is not showing any kind of position in this situation and that was making you uneasy beyond comparison.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

"You're still here. That's what matters to me for now." He began, his tone measured. For now. Hoseok was always skilled at this—at saying something that sounded kind but felt like a command.

"I panicked," you admitted softly, the honesty slipping out before you could stop it.

"I know, baby, you chose wrong—" he replied, his gaze unwavering.

"—twice," he added fuel to the fire, salt to the wound. But you knew why. He wanted you to submit to him, and he needed to work overtime to do so.

"You need to show me you're willing to make this right, love," you swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat making it nearly impossible to respond. His aura and magnitude of how he could move you however he liked now was overwhelming. You cannot run away, not when he dragged you back to this place instead of his brownstone at 57th street. You're not only under his surveillance here, but the Kkangpae and the rest of the family.

“What’s it gonna be? Cuz’ I can’t fucking pretend anymore–” 

His gaze dropped to the table for a moment before he reached into his pocket. You stiffened instinctively, already guessing what he was about to do. Sure enough, his hand emerged clutching the familiar black velvet box. The sight of it made your chest tighten.

"Hoseok," you said softly, your voice trembling with unease. "Please—"

"I don't think I will be so forgiving if you'll choose wrong for a third time, Princess." He ignored your plea, opening the box to reveal the ring again. The one you'd angrily thrown at him that fateful night when he tried to force it down your finger after you explicitly said no to him.

The one that symbolised everything you were not ready to accept, but you had to. It glimmered in the soft light of the room, deceptively beautiful.

"I'm done asking," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. Your breath hitched, but before you could speak, Hoseok reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding, yet the weight of his action was suffocating.

You tried to pull your hand back, but his grip tightened—not painfully, but enough to make it clear you weren't going anywhere. With deliberate precision, he slid the emerald ring onto your finger.

"There," he said, his voice softening just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You stared at the emerald ring, your mind racing. It looked almost serene on your finger, as if it had always belonged there. Hoseok sat back, satisfied, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Before you could respond, the soft thuds of certain leather shoes announced another arrival.

"Joon-ah!" Hoseok greeted, leaning back in his chair. "I assume there's news?"

Namjoon glanced at you briefly, then back to Hoseok. "Yes. We've made progress with the Anubis situation. The distilleries have been secured, but the reports of interference need attention."

"Anubis situation?" You echoed Namjoon's words. Hoseok's smile didn't falter, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. His gaze flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might dismiss your question. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlacing.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a quiet finality that suggested the topic was closed.

Namjoon, however, wasn't as careful with his expression. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, a crack in the façade of calm efficiency he usually wore. It was gone as quickly as it came, but you caught it, and it only fuelled your curiosity.

"Anubis is my responsibility, Hoseok, you cannot—" you pressed, your tone sharper now. You'd learned long ago that brushing things under the rug only meant tripping over them later.

"Not anymore."

Hoseok's words cut through the room with an authority that left no room for argument. He leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of complete control, his eyes locked on yours with a quiet intensity.

"What?!" You breathed out rather loudly now.

"Not anymore," he repeated, slower this time as if daring you to challenge him. And challenge him you did.

"Hoseok," you tried again, your voice quieter this time, laced with both frustration and fear. "This isn't—"

"I gotta punish you somehow, Princess," his one was calm, almost casual, but the weight behind his words was anything but. Your stomach churned as his lips curved into a faint, disarming smile—a predator's smile hidden beneath a veil of warmth.

"Punish me?" you repeated, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it. "Exactly for what you gotta punish me, Hoseok?

"For running," he said, the amusement in his voice doing little to soften the hurt he felt inside. "For throwing the ring. For abandoning me this morning after we made love last night—"

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with a raised hand. "Don't misunderstand me, Princess. I'm not angry. But actions have consequences."

Your heart pounded against your ribs, the rhythm chaotic and uneven. His calm demeanour made it worse. It took one wide-eyed glance for Namjoon to excuse himself and quickly retreat to Kkangpae's office to leave you two alone.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind Namjoon seemed louder in the heavy silence that followed. Your eyes darted to it, half-hoping for an interruption, but it was futile. Hoseok's gaze was fixed on you, unrelenting and unreadable, trapping you in this moment.

"Hoseok," you began, your voice trembling. "This isn't fair. You can't just—"

"I can," he interrupted his tone steady but brooking no argument. "And I will. You know I don't take betrayal lightly."

"Betrayal?" you repeated, the word stinging as it left your lips. "Is that what you think this is? Hoseok, I—"

"You ran," he said simply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. His fingers interlocked, creating a casual posture that only heightened your unease. "You left me, you threw the ring at me, you abandoned what we're building. Call it whatever you want, Princess, but to me? That's betrayal."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. "I needed time," you whispered. "Time to think, to—"

No, you needed Mark. But you also needed your best friend.

"Think?" Hoseok's laughter was soft, almost amused, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What is there to think about? You're mine. You've always been mine. And this?" He gestured to the ring now firmly on your finger. "This makes it only official."

"You can't force me to—" you said, the defiance in your voice surprising even you. This was never a discourse you or Hobi ever had. Everything was thought to be just platonic. Not for him.

"To what?" he asked, cutting you off again. His tone was low, dangerously calm. "To wear a ring? To stay by my side? To stop running every time things don't go the way you want?"

You flinched, the truth in his words hitting too close to home. Hoseok sighed, his expression softening just enough to make your heart ache. You were running each time you did not feel like the family was doing you justice. And each time it was Hoseok who came to talk sense into you. But this is different. You are not kids anymore, or teenagers. This is serious. Hoseok is serious this time.

"You know what Anubis means to me—"

"And you still thought it was something you could just walk away from?"

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as the urge to argue warred with the fear.

"I didn't walk away from Anubis," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I needed space, Hoseok."

"You said you were tired, love."

"You misunderstood—" Hoseok shook his head slowly, cutting you off once again, his gaze hardening.

"I never wanted it to come to this," Hoseok said, his voice softening as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. "But you forced my hand, Princess. And now, you don't get to run anymore. Not from me. Not from us."

"But Anubis—"

"It's still yours. But until you learn your place, Namjoon will suffice."

You bit your lip, caught between the suffocating desire to fight back but all you could do is shut your mouth and obey, telling yourself that this is only temporary.

He was, indeed, not mad.

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟎𝟐.𝟏����.𝟐𝟓

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: if you want to be notified once the full story is up for reading, you can write in the comments and I'll create a tag list!

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[cocodotgreen]

Today is a big day: I am sharing my first world – “Simynthos” – with all of you! I’m very nervous about it, actually. It’s the first world I ever finished!

So what kind of world is it? It's inspiration, the island of Corfu, is one of the more northern islands of Greece. It is greener than the southern islands, and the architectural style is a bit different. It has surprisingly high mountains and cute little villages with tiny orange houses and narrow roads and pathways. It has olive groves with trees more than a thousand years old, and it has beaches with some of the clearest water I ever swam in. I tried to capture Corfu's atmosphere in this little world, so that my simmies may enjoy it, too! And now I hope, your simmies will enjoy it as well :)

To make it a “quick” project (still took more than a year, though 😬) I used the existing world “Sa Pineda” by the amazing @nilxis as a base. The island itself was not created by me, I only created the houses/lots and made over the vegetation.

Even though it is on a tiny map, it is a full world with several houses. It has almost all rabbit holes, and a lot for your sims to do – well, at least considering the sizes of the place. It can be a home world as well as a vacation world with Nraas Traveler mod (can be found here).

Other than my previous builds it does contain some CC. Most of it comes with the download, but not all (you will find all links to additional CC below).

If you would like a (almost) CC-free version, please message me! I will gladly try to make it look good without CC, if I know that someone wants that! However, you will always need the rabbit hole rugs if you want the rabbit holes! But I could remove all decorative CC and try to decorate with non-cc items.

I had a lot of fun building on this little island. I also learned a lot and I hope to use all the experience I gathered from this first completed project for my next world!

Details:

tiny map (256x256)

contains CC (most of it is included in the download, but not all. Links are provided for the items not included, see below in the “Links to CC…” section.)

no Store content used

road-less

unpopulated

9 finished residential lots

17 community lots

3 dive lots

two empty lots, one community, one residential

contains most rabbit holes. The ferry provides room for additional rabbit hole rugs in case you want to place some that are not included.

Packs used: I have all expansion packs and all stuff packs installed, and have probably used items from almost all of them.

Packs you will definitely need for full functionality: Island Paradise (for the Dive Lots, the Ferry, and the All-in-One Bathrooms), Late Night for the Bars, Supernatural for the Elixir Shop, World Adventures for the Nectar Maker and the Nectar Racks, University Life for the Coffee Bar, and Ambitions for the Salon and Tattoo Studio, Showtime for the Karaoke Machine, on one lot I used the grill from Outdoor Living Stuff.

I used a lot of furniture from the Seasons and the Pets expansions. This is non-functional, but the world will look different if you do not have these expansion.

A word of warning (please read this!):

This world is TINY! But for its size I packed A LOT into it. This means, however, that lots and buildings are on the small to tiny side. So not all game options may be available on all lots.

The Weather-Stone may not spawn due to lack of a suitable location.

There is some kelp visible from map view next to one of the dive lots. I could not find a way to remove it, unfortunately, although I tried everything I could think of. If it bothers you the workaround is this: Go into edit town, select build on the dive lot. Without doing anything leave build mode and leave edit town. Now the kelp should not be visible anymore for this in-game-session. You will have to do it over again the next time you start up your save, though.

The proximity to community lots will mean that you can hear the noise from concerts, movies and sports events or even just music very loudly on some residential lots. I recommend you turn down the volume of music and effects in the game options to around ¼ of the bar. You will still hear the sounds on the residential lots, but not as loudly. Update: Follow these instructions to mute rabbit hole sounds if they bother you! 2nd Update: @ohrudi made a mod to mute all rabbit hole sounds completely! I highly recommend that mod for Simynthos! See recommended mods below for the link!

I advise against playing with horses on Simynthos due to the limited space and the lag they can cause. See recommended mods section below for more details.

Snow may look black in some places, mostly on or near the paths due to me having to paint under the walkways I placed. Sa Pineda already came with 8 terrain paints. I decided not to change the terrain paint, as it was very nicely done by the creator, and also snow is probably a rare occurrence on Corfu. If you want to, you can just disable snow/winter in the options.

Highly recommended mods for performance and functionality:

TheSweetSimmer’s Pick Up Toddler Fix: If you want to play with families you will absolutely need this mod! Without it you may not be able to pick up toddlers at all due to the limited space inside some of the houses.

OhRudi's Rabbit Holes Without Sounds Mod: This mod was inspired by the annoyance of the rabbit hole sounds in Simynthos. Thanks you so much @ohrudi for the amazing work! It will mute the rabbit hole sounds permanently and you will be able to enjoy the quiet island village life I intended for sims to experience on Simynthos!

OhRudi’s space saving mods: I recommend all of ohRudi’s space saving mods for this world:

“Fix: Pets need less space”

“Fix: Sims need less space”

“Fix: Guitar needs less space for playing”

“Fix: Bass needs less space for playing”

Nraas Register: Horses will cause lag on Simynthos due to the limited space on the island and the extensive space that horses need for routing (even with ohRudi’s mod), so I recommend disabling horses in the game options and using nraas Register mod to deactivate wild horses completely.

Nraas Debug Enabler: The dive lots on Simynthos have the same problem that all dive lots seem to have: If you want to explore the caves, you will need to reset them first. If you forget your sim will be reset to the beach. Best way to do this is using Nraas “Debug Enabler” mod (click on cave > Nraas > Debug Enabler > Options: Name of Cave > Object > Reset).

Nraas Go Here: I generally recommend Nraas Go Here mods “Teleport for everyone” option, just in case a sim or a pet gets stuck somewhere.

Other recommended mods (optional):

You can have functioning Greek restaurants on Simynthos if you use these two mods together:

icarus_allsorts’s “Eat Outside Restaurants”

Cinderellimouse’s “Cooking and Ingredients Overhaul”

Both mods combined will allow you to set the menu for the diner or bistro rabbit hole to Greek dishes (or any other dishes you prefer) and order these dishes from a waiter on the lot. How cool is that?!

Links to CC that’s not included in the download:

You will need these Jynx rabbit hole rugs (Pets Fix), from this thread on MTS:

Late Night rabbit hole rugs (Pets fix)

Base Game rabbit hole rugs (Pets fix)

You will need the Left and Right versions of this mattress for two sims to sleep in a double bed that is placed against a wall.

I recommend you use @nilxis beautiful “Mediterranian Day” lighting mod.

Credits:

Thanks to @nilxis, the creator of „Sa Pineda“, for the beautiful base to this world. The island on which Simynthos was build is entirely their creation. I did not change the island itself or the terrain painting outside the lots (except for some places where I placed the walkways/paths). All credit for that goes to them! You can find the original version here. Also make sure to check out their other worlds, while you‘ re at it. They are some of my favorite worlds!

Thanks also to @aroundthesims for their amazing CC! If you do not know their website yet, you should definitely check it out! They have a lot of really cool items!

Thanks to @nornities for their extremely helpful CAW guide here. Unfortunately I only found this guide when Simynthos was almost finished. I could have avoided some of the mistakes I made, had I found it sooner!

Some of you may know, that I am not the first to make a Greek version of Sa Pineda. Back in 2016 Vendela created Simtorini. This super cute world has the typical blue and white houses another Greek island, Santorini, is famous for. Go check it out here.

Download (SimFileShare)

Alternative Download (Dropbox)

[faranae]

Oh hey, I did that thing again this year! They're proper pixel, but Tumblr might potato them. Feel free to use the blanks, just credit somewhere please. :)

I'm ~Faranae over on Art Fight! Let's all have fun!

[ancientnapdragon]

hello scum villain fandom. i finished these silly books like two months ago and have been rotating them in my mind since then.

ANYWAY, i've come to propose a fun AU from my brain: Shen Yaun 'Food Peak' Lord. >:) (please excuse any typos i'm on my phone)

This is a Scumcum AU cause I decided that SJ is like my fave and I wanna see him get wifed up. Does he deserve it? No. Will this stop me? Also no.

So, slap cut to SY and he's suddenly like waking up the day after being chosen as a Sect disciple. He's like 13 and really confused and something feels... kinda wrong! It's like he has all these swiss cheese spots in his memory and he feels like he should be alarmed he's not in his own bed! But, he also IS in his own bed? What's his problem? SY is still 100% a transmigrator but since he's in a kid's body his memories are like half on lockdown. He remembers a few things but not much. The System shows up and seems just as surprised as this turn of events as he is, sort of analyzes a while, then ends up making him think (by accident) it's some like Guardian Family Spirit who is there to guide him.

In truth, the System is trying to find the best route to get the story on track within it's programming. This is NOT what it's assignment was supposed to be! Ugh!

SY has now been shuffled into what is basically an OC so it more or less just looks like him from his old life, not that he is aware, except as a kid. Everyone calls him Kong Yuan (name pending) (also I'll keep calling him SY for this to make it easier) and he was just taken into the lower Peak in charge of Food, Wine, and Elixirs. Of course this is like, with it's own special PIDW twist so everything is cool and magic. Without any real ideas on what to do otherwise, and feeling like this is Right, he throws himself into learning stuff about the Peak. He was a lazy Millennial rich boy in his last life so he's, like, kind of a SHIT COOK. That's on top of being kind of just bad at the type of physical cultivation needed for this Peak!

While highly specialized, the people on (Food) Peak are certified badasses in their own right, even if it's not in like a proper fight. You got people dipping arms and torsos in boiling oil, doing all sorts of fancy knife tricks with qi, tearing whole large beasts apart for processing; the Peak Lord and SY's new Shizun had some giant metal ladle that's twice as long as herself and looks like it weights more than a building. She's built and buff and uses this thing effortlessly to stir this giant cauldron in the center of the Peak that is as big as a house. It's a smaller Peak but always a flurry of activity! The System, deciding it will at least try and work with this, starts giving SY Taste Points as he improves. Occasionally, it will even give him little quests for bonus points! Usually it's for meeting new people, at the start, or learning certain techniques on his Peak. He notices that he usually get these 'Meet x Person' quests when on other Peaks, though... like that really sad looking but polite boy on Qiong Ding, the sort of nervous and mousy kid from An Ding, the sharp tongued girl from Xian Shu- even the real scary guy from Bai Zhan! Then after he gets those quests done, they always turn into a 'Befriend X Person' quest after... which is way harder but rewards more T Points!

(DID YOU THINK THIS WAS JUST A PEAK LORD AU BTW? NO NO NO! IT'S ALSO A QING DISCIPLE AU! HA! >:D) But why does he even WANT the T Points? Well, Guardian Spirit/System says it will provide him special memory rewards! SY rationalizes this as thinking he's receiving visions from a past? future? reincarnation of himself, which the System does not correct. It's usually smaller things about his old life, with the real important stuff all locked away behind higher and higher Points. The System will also provide him with small boosts to his palate (his was quite shit) and sometimes even... cookbooks! Part of being a Food Cultivator is enhancing your QI and Spiritual Veins by eating food that is both delicious as well as Spiritually Enhanced. This isn't just cooking in the kitchen with mama time, this is an ART. Only the best of the best have the refined palate, knowledge base, and skills to make their own recipes. It's fairly common on the Peak for the Masters to work for YEARS to try and make SOMETHING of their own they can be proud of! When SY is like 15, enough time to get to know his fellow (future) Peak Lords, he gets a special quest: [ BECOME HEAD DISCIPE ]. For the first time, THIS quest has a time limit (two years!), and the System warns him of graaaaaave consequences if he is not able to do so....

This lights a fire under his ass a bit and makes him panic! See, SY has all these cookbooks from the System, and he can even make some of the recipes! But most of them ask for all these ingredients he FEELS like he should know but he's never really heard of.... And some of the techniques are so strange, too! The System offers him a special upgrade (for what is, at the time, probably almost all this T-Points): A taste-alike Beastiary!

So, Ancient China did not have a lot of modern fruits and veggies from around the world. PIDW? Aside from a few things ones cause Airplane was a hack writer, mostly the same! But you know what PIDW does have? Lots of weird demons and animals and spirit beasts and flowers. The next time SY looks at a cookbook he will see little (???) next to the stuff he doesn't recognize. But also! There was this one recipes he wanted to make, and he had everything except for ONE thing to make it, and it has a (Inferno-Harpy-Vulture Egg) next to it. So! It shows him stuff he can SUBSTITUTE! Provided... he knows the name of the plant or animal already....

SY had always had a passion for the weird beasts and creatures he sometimes saw, but no reason to act on learning more since he was so busy.... but with this he can totally indulge! AND it will help him with his goal! Double win!

At some point in all his fumbling, he makes better connections with the Future Peak Lords, gets a reputation as being very reliable and kind (if a bit danger prone and sharp tongued at times), and is earning the attention of his buff Shizen. After getting a lot of T-Points, he manages to uncover some of the more expensive Memories....

Which warn him of a cruel villain named Shen Quinqui. An abusive man who was just the worst! Basically, all the stuff SY thought he knew about him in SV. AND the guy was gunna cause the world to end or something? UGH! Why didn't anyone DO anything about that guy in the future? :( The System says he's not allowed to tell anyone, but if he keeps working, maybe he can change Fate! Now, you're probably like 16 paragraphs into this and like 'okay, this is all super cool and you're really smart. but where is SJ at???' Well, he is HERE!

See, while SY had been to Qing Jing Peak multiple times, he's never actually got a Quest to meet anyone from there which is super weird! But he's called over there to act as a chef for a few weeks because one of the guys who usually does it is on some mission. He decides to scout out the Peak while he's there and see if he can find anyone named 'Shen' who might be the evil guy in the future.... [Mission: Meet Xiao Jiu] suddenly pops up from the System! And SY tries VERY HARD to do so! Every day he goes to work at QJ, he never meets anyone he doesn't already know. Sometimes, he hears rumors about a new kid who the Peak Lord took in and the rumors sound NASTY about him. He's only 15 (just a bit younger than SY by like a season or two!) and the guy is said to have murdered people, slept with prostitutes, perved on the girl's in their dorm there, (probably) was actually a real demon.... and was just a huge asshole. But, eventually, SY does end up meeting this mystery Xiao Jiu! He's done in the kitchen for the night and finished cleaning with the other cooks when he remembers he left something there. Going back, he finds this real skinny and lanky guy in the kitchen picking through whatever was leftover in there (not much). He's real cagey and looks ready to beat the hell out of SY for coming in there; but also like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't do. They sort of stare at each other a bit before SY hesitantly introduces himself and the guy basically runs off through the back. Rude! [Mission Complete: Meet Xiao Jiu] [Mission: Befriend Xiao Jiu]

The guy didn't even SAY anything, though! And he seemed like he wanted to beat him up! System, that doesn't seem FAIR! But... SY really wants those T Points for more future memories to try and stop whatever bad stuff is going to happen in the future, so...

Just trying to find Xiao Jiu ends up being a huge problem in of itself! This is a whole Peak and SY is mostly just here to act as a chef for a few hours in the evening. The guy never comes in and gets food, either! Does he only eat the stuff that's left in the kitchen after? But they always clean up really thoroughly so there isn't much left... and he had looked really skinny....

SY starts staying over past everyone else and leaving some extra buns and stuff he saves from dinner on the counter. Except, he gets in trouble after a day or two because the Morning Chefs had come in to find the food left there all night. Was the guy not taking it?

Eventually, he gets the idea to leave the food but... hide it. For some reason it reminds him of hiding a treat from a cat to make it want the treat more. It... sort of works? Usually only one of the buns is missing instead of the multiple he hides. But! Hey! At least the guy got some food!

Things go on like this for a while, until one night when he's heading back to his Peak, he gets sideline kicked into a dense copse of bamboo along the path. And the guy is standing over him with a sword (not a Spiritual one, but still really sharp!) at his throat. And demanding to know what SY is trying to do by leaving him food.... AAAAND I think this is long enough. For NOW. I'll write more on it when I have some time!!! My big wants is basically Feral Angry Cat SJ being slowly socialized to like the one (1) guy who keeps feeding him. They're gunna be BESTIES! (And SY just TOTALLY doesn't feel weird about thinking his best bro is pretty! That's, like super normal!)

I'm sort of half vomiting all my ideas out of my brain but also half writing a bit of a rough outline for a future fic i want to write. If this inspires you in some way, though, feel free to write stuff! Just tag me! I WANNA SEE!!!! >:)

If you have any questions or anything feel free to reach out! I wanna expand more on the Cookbook and the Food Quest and like, how SY would befriend the other Future Peak Lords. Plus, I have a really evil idea for the System to try and force the plot back on the rails later on hehe.

Ty for reading my rambling ilu <3

[hyukalyptus]

look at me — faerie!soobin x fem!human!reader

cw. soobin is a human-sized faerie with wings, chubby!reader has braces but that's rarely mentioned, reader has anxiety, reader needs to be high on shrooms to see/hear/touch soobin (it'll make sense i swear! ((dear god i hope it makes sense at least))), kissing, penetration (protection not mentioned), cunnilingus, nipple stuff, "baby," angsty ending, let me know if i missed anything. note. like i said, reader has to be high on shrooms to see, hear, and touch soobin, so technically they're both on drugs when they have sex, so caution if that makes you uncomfy. and oh surprise, surprise! very self indulgent. i've never written anything remotely fantasy so this is new territory for me and i'm super nervous for y'all to read it. but i hope y'all love it <3 wc. 7.2K

There she is again. Not many humans venture this far out into the woods, but I recognize her every time. Well, I recognize her aura. Typically, humans appear in a dream-like haze—I can make out what they look like and even hear what they’re saying. But when their hearts are weighed down, their aura overwhelms everything, blinding me to their true physical form.

My friends tease me for being so fascinated with humans, but I can’t help it. They’re delightful in their peculiar ways—bringing their lovers and friends for little celebrations, visiting us with their sweet treats and elixirs. They’re so distracted with joy, they hardly notice when we take some for ourselves. 

This human is different, though. She’s always alone, shrouded in a deep, stormy grey cloud that darkens every time she returns. For a moment, her aura softens as she rests at the edge of the creek, taking deep breaths while the storm eases into a fragile calm. But it never lasts. Within a week, she returns and the weight she carries seems heavier than before.

Today, she rushes to the creek bed, crouches by the water, and her weeps and cries are the loudest I’ve ever heard. She’s shaking. I creep closer, hoping to make anything out of her cloud, but nothing. Taking a seat on the moss on the other side of the creek, I simply watch her. Her cries crescendo into a gut-wrenching wail and I can’t take it anymore. 

I toss a small pebble into the creek, watching as orange flickers throughout her cloud—fear. After another, it turns a muddy blue—curious. It twists and turns in search of something and when she leans toward the water, I summon a gold shimmer into the creek, dancing across the ripples as it catches the light. Her gasp breaks the silence, and for the first time, I hear her voice, distant and fragile. 

“Oh my god.” 

A grin tugs at my lips. Her cloud has kept her hidden from me all this time, but I just know she’s absolutely adorable. A small pebble shoots out from her direction, falling into the water and I guide it to land right on top of the other two. When she tosses another in, I pause the current entirely, letting the surface hold still. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I release it with a bloop. And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song. 

“Hello?” She asks and I conjure a ripple in response. “Is someone there?” In the center of the creek, I create a circle of stillness, the current bending around it at my command. Inside it, I make it change color in an attempt to communicate with her. I add the gold shimmer back, trying to tell her—to scream at her—Yes! Yes, I’m here! I’m right here. But her cloud flares orange—panic—and she stumbles back. In a heartbeat, she’s gone, running away from our dell. 

Oh no. Shoving the heels of my hands into my eye sockets out of frustration, I shake my head. Oh no.

-

It’s been weeks. Every day, I return to watch the humans, hoping my favorite may return. Perhaps it was overwhelming for her—turning water gold that quickly. Regret gnaws at me as I pick a bit of a raspberry from under my nail from when I was harvesting them earlier. A rustle in the distance snaps me to attention, followed by the solid thud of something hitting the mossy ground. 

A human. Not the one I’ve been waiting for, but they catch my eye—curvy and stunning and flipping through a book. After a moment, they put it aside, sitting criss-cross on the creekbank, bending toward the water. 

“Hello?” She asks. Wait. I know that voice. I only heard it for a moment, but I’ve been dreaming about it so much recently, I’d recognize it anywhere now. She’s back! And I can see her! 

And she’s so incredibly beautiful, I can’t help but stare. I stumble toward the creek bed and she speaks again, “Hello?” I respond with a water ripple. 

“Hello, I’m here.” Speaking is useless, but I whisper under my breath anyway. 

“Are you the same…thing I was talking to a few weeks ago?” The water slowly turns a gold shimmer and she grins. “Can I ask you some questions?” The gold gets stronger. “Gold means yes?” The shimmer holds steady. “Am I speaking with the water?” I make it turn a deep, murky teal. “Does that mean no?” Gold. “A witch?” Teal. “A ghost?” Teal again. “An angel?” Teal. “A faerie?” 

Gold shimmer. I whisper, “Yes, yes,” proud of her for getting it. 

“A faerie?” She asks excitedly and I celebrate with her in the form of a water ripple. “Oh wow,” she whispers. “So you can hear me?” Gold. “Can you see me?” Ah, what do I do now? I can’t quite see her yet, but I definitely can see more of her than she can of me.

“Grey?” She’s silent for a moment, humming as she tries to understand. “You don’t know if you can see me?” Teal. “You can kinda see me?” Gold. “I can’t see you at all,” she mumbles. She looks up again, unsure where to look. “Did you know that?” It stays gold while she chuckles to herself. The sound of it is intoxicating—like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind or a bird chirping. It warms me from the inside out. 

“Where are you?” She asks. The current splits into two, flowing against each other and converging in a point aimed directly at me. As she follows the arrow with her eyes to look at me, her cloud clears fully and I can finally see her. For real this time. There’s still that angelic glow that won’t go away until the Veils have been lifted but I’m not so sure I’d want it to go away anyway. She’s absolutely, positively stunning. My breath is taken away. Her smile reaches her eyes and there’s something in her mouth—something I’ve never seen before, shiny and on every tooth. 

Her body curves and moves gloriously and she looks irresistibly soft and…sexy. And I don’t use that word often. I want to hold her, touch her, squeeze her, make her feel something, but she can’t even see me. Even if I tried, my touch would be nothing but the whisper of a ghost. 

Glancing down, her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She asks, “What does pink mean?” I shake my head to rid my thoughts of her and the water returns to its natural, clear, blue state. 

There’s a beat of silence. She awkwardly speaks up, “So, a faerie, huh?” Slowly, the calm pool turns gold again. “I’ve got some books about the Fae.” Bubbles rise in curiosity. “Are you a human-sized faerie?” Gold. 

“I think I may be a bit taller than you, though…” I whisper. I’m taller than most everyone in my village, so I can only assume I’m taller than her as well. 

“A lot of these books say you all hate humans,” she says matter-of-factly. 

The water turns a deep, angry red. “That’s a misconception!” I say with a grumpy giggle. Although, she’s not totally wrong. Most other faeries I know do hate humans, I suppose. I’m not sure why, though—they’re so sweet and cute. Us faeries tend to have a superiority complex. But that doesn’t mean we all have it out for the entirety of the human race. 

“Oh,” she says, holding her hands up. “Sorry.” I forgot she can’t hear me, so the water calms itself. “Do you hate humans?” I can’t make it teal fast enough. 

We spend hours in our woodland dell together—she watches as I make the water change colors, as I make flowers bloom in patterns, and as I talk with rabbits, asking them to bring me back berries and nuts. The way her eyes light up when I make the peonies bloom makes me feel like nothing else matters. I’d sit here for hours, building and blooming the garden of her dreams if I could—just to make her happy. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks, sitting next to me on the creekbank now that we’re on the same side. The water constantly follows me to show her my location. 

“Of course,” I respond under my breath, hoping something might leak through into her realm. 

“Coming out here and talking to you…” she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.” She chuckles. “Like, what would someone think if they saw me giggling at the water?” I wish I could shatter the wall blocking her realm from mine, dissolving any of that hesitancy and uncertainty. “But it makes me feel sane. It’s the only time I feel like my world isn’t falling apart.” 

She’s told me all about her world—a stressful job, family problems, and constant crippling anxiety. I can’t imagine living in a world like hers. Humans fascinate me, yes, but I avoid the world they’ve created at all costs—booming cities absent from flora and fauna, no magic, lifeless but overwhelming at the same time. 

“That’s a new one,” she says, glancing down at the water. When she looks back up, guessing where my eyes are, she asks, “What does silver mean?”

“I’m sad,” I whisper. Almost at the exact same time, like we’re connected at the heart, we say,

“I wish you could hear me.”“I wish I could hear you.” 

As she fiddles with the green moss under her legs the water slowly turns a gold shimmer. I want that too. I want to talk to her, to feel her, hug her, kiss her. I want to be hers, to protect her from all that pain in her world. But my heart drops, the water steadily turning a sad silver again. I could never be that for her. 

“Why can’t I see you?” She asks, sadness laced in her voice. I conjure a gentle wind, making one of her books fly open, flipping to a page titled, The Fae and Humans: Perception and Interaction. Her head snaps toward the sound, curiosity pulling her closer. Slowly, she crouches and reads aloud, “There is an intricate balance of aural, visibility, touch, and the altered states required to bridge the divide between the Fae and human realms. Understanding the two key thresholds—The Veil of Sight and Sound and the Veil of Touch—are crucial when communicating with the Fae. 

“The Veil of Sight and Sound: Faeries exist on a frequency of reality imperceptible to humans. Under normal conditions, human vision and hearing cannot penetrate this Veil; however, certain factors can alter a human's perceptual capabilities. Mild intoxication induced by substances can create a temporary overlap between the human and faerie realms. In this state, humans can see and hear faeries in their true forms. 

“The Veil of Touch: Even when humans achieve the rare ability to see and hear faeries, the Veil of Touch presents a further barrier. While perception might align momentarily, the physical matter of faeries and humans does not naturally interact. For touch to occur, a human must enter a deeper altered state—one that further detaches them from their own plane.” 

Taking everything in, her lips barely move when she whispers, “Intoxication?” The water points toward a ring of mushrooms nestled at the edge of the creek. Each one has a delicate pearly white cap with faint iridescent streaks that catch the light like oil on water. The ring itself isn’t perfect; they grow unevenly, edges blending with soft moss and fallen leaves. They look relatively ordinary, but those iridescent streaks tell me they’re undeniably veil lanterns, a substance that lifts both veils for humans. Moving closer to the ring of mushrooms, she asks, “If I eat one of these, I’ll be able to see and hear you?” Gold shimmer. “How does it make me feel?” 

How do I put this? I make the water swirl in on itself in different directions while it turns different shades of blue and green. It spirals upward into a sphere that hovers for a moment before gracefully falling back to the creek. 

“Like I’m floating?” She asks curiously. Gold shimmer. She looks back at the mushrooms, her expression torn between hope and hesitation. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she says softly, but her hand doesn’t move closer. Eventually, though, she plucks one out of the ground, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, twirling it between her fingers. “Just one?”

“Just one,” I whisper under my breath as the water turns gold. Popping it in her mouth, I watch the soft aura that still surrounds her physical form turn a pretty relaxed yellow over the course of a few minutes. She talks to me as she lets the mushroom settle in—asking how long it’ll take or what happens if it doesn’t work.

“What if I’ve been making all this up in my head?” She chuckles to herself. “And I’ve been talking to a creek this whole time? How embarrassing would that be?” She rubs her hands over her face, groaning. “I can’t believe this,” she grumbles, curling into herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she closes her eyes and mutters, “Thinking a creek is talking to me…”

“That does sound a little silly,” I say, my voice light with amusement. 

Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me. The realization washes over her in waves—hesitation, awe, and then a dawning understanding.  

“Hello,” I say softly, letting her take me in, her eyes tracing over my entire body.

“Hi,” she breathes. “Where are your wings?” That’s an unexpected first question. Smiling, I unfold them, letting them catch the sunlight. Iridescent hues of pink and purple shimmer like liquid light. The intricate patterns etched into the delicate surface that scatter rainbows onto the ground below. 

“Wow…” she whispers in disbelief. She reaches out slowly, her fingertips trembling as they near me. But her hand passes straight through, our realms still worlds apart. Confusion clouds her face and her glassy eyes blink with disappointment. 

I shake my head and remind her, “The Veil of Touch, remember?”

“Oh, I need to have another mushroom?” I nod. She hurriedly reaches for one.

“Wait.” She halts and looks up at me. “You should take it easy with those. Let’s just talk. I’ve been dying for you to hear my voice.”

“That’s true.” She looks over at the water, then glances back up at me. “You’re so…pretty,” she says. “What’s your name?” 

“Soobin.” Then she tells me her name. “We can have conversations much easier now, huh?” I smile. 

With the Veil lifted, we spend the hour learning all we can about each other—her favorite color isn’t just yellow, it’s turmeric. She loves how it looks when she puts a teaspoon of it in her rice cooker and it spreads throughout the water. Her favorite flower is a poinsettia because her mother used to line the front porch with them during a winter holiday called Christmas. Those things on her teeth are called braces and they’re supposed to help her teeth somehow. She hates celery and loves broccoli, especially if they’re roasted in an oven. That scar on her cheek is from learning something called skateboarding. She loves the rain but is terrified of thunder. She hates how loud her laugh is, though it's my favorite sound. 

She worries about being too much and not enough all at once. 

As we talk, I can’t tell how much time we have left. I can tell I’m fading from her view but she never fades from mine. Her laughter grows quieter, her giggles becoming rare until they’re gone altogether. Her high is wearing off, and with it, the fragile connection we share. I can feel her pulling back, closing herself off again, like the gentle drift of someone falling asleep without realizing it.

Her eyes stay on me, intense and unblinking, memorizing every detail of my face to hold onto me for just a moment longer. Then I see it, the shift in her expression. Realization dawns like a shadow passing over her, her gaze losing focus.  

“I can’t see you anymore,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with resignation. She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “You’re gone again.”  

-

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, my voice soft but steady. Over the years, I’ve forged fragile connections with humans, always careful never to push too hard. Yet no matter how gentle I am, the same thing happens—they see too much, fear too much, and never return. And I don’t blame them. It’s utterly overwhelming. There’s no denying that. 

But she’s been visiting me for months and I’ve never been this close to anyone. With her, the world feels sharper, more vivid. Every time she speaks, her words resonate with something deep inside me, as if they echo through places I’ve forgotten even existed. 

She occupies my every waking moment. I’ve started to feel her even when she’s not here—her absence pressing against me like a quiet storm, a warmth that lingers in the air long after she’s gone. Her voice echoes in my mind when it’s silent. Every time our eyes meet, there’s that spark, that electric connection that tells me we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary. 

We’ve talked about taking the next step so many times now. But it’s a huge step. It’s about stepping into a new reality, about making something impossible real. 

She nods, her eyes bright with determination. “I’m sure.”  

She picks up the mushroom, turning it over in her hands as though its surface might help her validate her decision. Then, with a shaky breath, she sets it back down, her resolve wavering. “What if this isn’t real?” she whispers, her gaze fixed on her trembling fingers. “What if I’ve just been…hallucinating all of this?”  

“You’re not hallucinating,” I say gently.

She hugs her knees to her chest, biting her lip. “But what if I am? And if I eat another one, I just sink deeper into this… dream? Or illusion? Or whatever this is.”  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I assure her, leaning closer.  

She lifts her head slightly, her expression torn. “But if I need these just to talk to you…” Her voice falters. “Doesn’t that mean I’ll always be dependent on them?”  

I meet her gaze, steady and unwavering. “You’re already talking to me,” I say. “You don’t need another one to keep doing that.”  

Her breath catches, and for a moment, silence hangs between us. Then she speaks again, “But I can’t touch you.” Her eyes glisten, her vulnerability shining through. “And I want to.”  

Something in me stirs—sharp and undeniable. My chest tightens, my voice trembling, “I want that too.” 

She sighs my name, and it feels like the world is tilting. Her cheeks flush as she hesitates. “I want to…maybe it’s the mushroom talking,” she says quickly, her words tumbling out, “but I want you. I want you to kiss me and hold me and make me feel—”  

“I want all of that too,” I interrupt, my voice low and earnest. “But only if you’re ready.”  

Her shoulders sag slightly, her head tilting as she stares at the ground. “But it’ll never be truly real, though, will it?”

“It’s real,” I say softly. “Maybe not in the way we want it to be—but real enough to feel.” Nodding, she takes several seconds to think, picking at the green moss as a distraction. “What if I ate one too?”

“Would it even affect you?” 

I nod and add, “It gives me a high, but nothing…magical happens.” We both agree to eat one, giggling and talking while we let them both set in. 

“I’m not feeling much different, to be honest,” she says, her voice faltering. “I’m starting to think none of this is real. I’m just… seeing you, but you’re not really there.” Her hand lifts, a trembling finger reaching toward my cheek.

Then it happens.

The moment her skin touches mine, a spark—soft, warm, and undeniable—flares between us. She gasps, jerking her hand back as though it's been burned. But before the space between us can grow too wide, she reaches out again, her palm settling against my cheek, her thumb brushing over the curve with a tentative tenderness.

Her touch anchors me, and for a moment, I can’t speak.

“…Soobin,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re there. You’re really there.”

“I know,” I say, chuckling. “I’m really here. Watch this.” I reach out, dragging my fingertips over her forearm. She gasps again, yanking her hand back. “Are you okay?” I ask, concern flickering in my voice. She nods, slowly and deliberately moving her hand forward. Then, she runs her fingers through my hair and glides them down my shoulder and arm, leaving a shiver in their wake.

“Can I…your wings?” she asks, her voice filled with awe. I let them unfold just enough for her to see. Her breath hitches as she reaches out, the tip of her pointer finger brushing against the delicate edge of one wing. It flutters instinctively at her touch, responding to her presence, which spooks her a bit. 

“It’s okay,” I murmur, watching her hand. 

Encouraged and confident, she places her hand fully on top of my wing, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns as though committing every curve and shimmer to memory.

“Wow…that’s unreal,” she says. “I mean, it’s real, but doesn’t seem like it should be.” She inches closer, the space between us dissolving until our knees barely touch. Her fingers run down my arm lightly before picking up my hand, examining it closely, her thumb tracing the lines of my palm, the curve of my fingers. Then, I mirror her actions, taking her hand in mine. It’s warm, human, and yet so fragile under my touch. 

Her hand travels upward to trace my features with her thumb. She lingers over the arch of my eyebrow, down the bridge of my nose, along the edge of my jaw. When she reaches my lips, her thumb pauses, grazing over the softness of my bottom lip. A breath escapes me, unbidden, and her touch slows, her thumb resting there for just a moment longer before she withdraws, her hand trembling slightly as it falls back into her lap.

I respond, my thumb swiping across her bottom lip and I tug her closer by her jaw until I can feel her breath on my chin. 

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper. 

She nods. 

Our lips fall into one another and move over each other so beautifully—it beats out rainbows and peonies, the sound of water falling, the smell of peppermint leaves. It’s a paradox, making everything else feel insignificant yet illuminating the meaning of it all in the same breath.

It deepens and I hover over her, her legs coming out from under her while I guide her to lay down on the mossy patch, our lips never parting. Her lips feel so magical and soft and we only stop when she needs to come up for air. We smile at each other, our eyes sharing the same redness and glassy daze. I know exactly what I want to happen next, but I’m not so sure she’s ready for all that. I look at her, taking in all her beauty. 

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her.

“So are you,” she slurs. She reaches for my hand that’s already resting on her hip and moves it up to her chest, encouraging me to feel all of her. 

I whisper her name and ask, “Are you sure you want this?” 

“Please.” My lips crash into hers again and our hands are all over each other, on each other’s bodies, in each other’s hair, squeezing and squishing and feeling and rubbing. She breaks the kiss, “Have you ever done this before? You know, with a human?”

“Not with a human,” I chuckle. “But all the anatomy’s the same.” 

“That’s good,” she giggles, grabbing my hair to kiss me again, but she’s quick to pull back. “Go slow, okay?” I nod. With a snap of my fingers, flowers swirl together, carried by a gentle breeze, forming a soft pillow for her to rest her head on. “Ah, thank you. I forgot you can do stuff like that.” Lifting the skirt of her dress up, I slowly move it past her thighs and she asks with a trembling voice, “Will people see us?” 

I shake my head, telling her, “I cast a shadow cloak around us. No one can see us. Not even the other fae.” A look of relief and content falls across her face. “Can I…?” I ask, lifting her dress more. She nods. With each passing inch, my heart thumps as I drag my fingertips over her legs. Lifting it over her head, she’s laying under me, mostly bare. She’s still wearing two tiny pieces of fabric that cover her chest and bottom. 

“I wore these for you,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with a shyness she can’t quite hide. The veil lanterns must’ve loosened her lips.

“You did?” My hands explore her curves, reverent and curious, tracing every inch of her body. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Her skin is soft and inviting under my lips, and I scatter kisses lower, her body responding perfectly with mine. But then, I can’t hide my fascination any longer. I pause, my thumb brushing over the delicate pink fabric that’s still on her body. How do I put this? Ah, let’s just be candid. “What is this?”  

“What do you mean?”  

“These,” I say, running my fingers along the straps and edges of the fabric. “I’ve never seen clothes like this before.”

“Oh,” she giggles, tugging gently at one of the straps. “This is a bra. And these,” she gestures to the sides of the fabric on her hips, “are panties.” I hum thoughtfully, studying her with an amused tilt of my head. 

“We don’t wear things like this. What’s the point of them?”  

Her lips curve into a playful smile. “Look at me.” And I do. She’s delicious. “That’s the point.”  

I smirk, my gaze lingering on her. “Am I—are you—supposed to take them off?”  

“Yes,” she says, her voice catching just slightly, her flush deepening. My fingers brush over the fabric again, savoring the contrast between it and her skin. “Do you not like them?” she asks, her tone almost teasing.  

“No, I do,” I reply, my voice dipping lower. “I have a feeling I’ll like your body even more.” I start to try and pull them off, but—

“Not yet,” she sighs. “Come here.” I sit up and she follows, her hand drifting to my top button. Slowly, she unfastens it, the slinky pink velvet slipping through her fingers with each deliberate motion. Once she pushes my shirt past my shoulders, I tug at the cuffs to free my arms. Her gaze stays locked on me as I fold my wings down, the delicate motion allowing me to slip the shirt off completely.

Extending her arm out, the tip of her middle finger barely touches my chest before she jerks her hand back, still not believing I’m tangible. Then she lets her hand fully press my body, dragging down to my waist. I remember how much my wings fascinate her, so I unfold them for her and she gasps. 

Leaning closer, our lips fall into each other and I guide her to lay down again just the same as before. My thumb drags across the apple of her cheek, trailed by my pointer finger down column of her neck, following a line between her breasts, down to squeeze her waist. Holding her bra strap between my pointer and middle finger, I slowly pull it down, leaving kisses along the way and hoping I’m doing this whole bra-and-panties thing correctly. Then I do the same with the other side, watching as she effortlessly reaches behind her, making something snap so it falls off her chest, hanging loosely. She pulls it off herself, although I think I’m supposed to be the one that does that. Next time.  

Looking down at her bare chest, I can’t help but feel giddy. The way her chest curves on itself, creating a gorgeous shape I desperately need to feel. 

“I love these,” I say, kissing the side of her breast. She hums in question. And I nudge the marks on her skin with the tip of my nose. “These,” I say. 

Her gaze follows mine as she glances down and asks, “Oh, my stretch marks?” 

“We call them life lace.”

Her expression softens, her eyes meeting mine. “Life lace,” she repeats quietly, as if testing the words, a touch of wonder in her voice. I search and scour for every bit I can find—the most of it on her tummy, hips, and thighs. She’s still got that last bit of clothing around her hips she hasn’t taken off yet. That final barrier between us. We’ve knocked every other barrier down but something about this last one feels utterly real in a way the others didn’t. 

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I pull her gently so her legs wrap around my ears gently, shoving my face into her center over that last bit of clothing, inhaling. I’ve never been this close to a human before. She smells so different from the fae I’ve been with. She’s intoxicating and delightful—my mouth waters at how delicious she smells. 

“I take this off, too?” I nudge at her entrance, earning a jolt. I must’ve nudged something sensitive. She nods eagerly, helping me take them off her. 

“You too,” she reminds me and I shuffle to get rid of the rest of my clothes. Looking down at her, she’s giddy and completely entranced, which twinges my heart. It’s just the veil lanterns, the cynical part of me reminds myself. Her legs are casually spread open, giving me a full display of her glistening pussy. I skate my hands up her legs, feeling her ground herself in the feeling of my hands. 

Teasing her entrance with my thumb, she’s hot and wet as she flutters around nothing, waiting for anything from me. I gather just enough of her wetness to make my pointer finger slick and tap her clit, making her flinch. Then, I rub the slowest, lightest circles over the nub and she lets out a ragged sigh. Her tightened muscles relax as she allows herself to feel every move I’m making, letting her head gently fall to the pillow of flowers. 

Once she’s practically dripping, I slide my two middle fingers inside her, curling them to tease the most sensitive bit with the pads of them. Bending, I flick my pointed tongue against her clit, eliciting a whine while she desperately reaches for my hair. I’ve never tasted a human either, I realize. I’m not sure anything will ever be as delicious as her again. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpers. Every sound she makes is gorgeous but I can’t wait to hear what she sounds like when she comes. I bet it's the most beautiful in the world. “W—wait…” she trails off, her hip thrusts betraying her words. “Soobin, wait—” she gasps. This time, I stop. Gently wrapping her hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “I want you…all of you, please.” 

I take the time to memorize what her face looks like, how her hair is splayed out against the flowers, how kissable her lips look. And I don’t resist them. Pressing my lips to hers again, they mould into each other like we should’ve never been apart in the first place. She tries to place her hands on my back, stumbling as she realizes my wings are in the way, which rustle in response. Instead, she rests them on my waist, squeezing delicately. 

We hesitantly part so I can sit up on my knees. This time, I take the time to memorize everything about her body—her stomach rolls folding from holding her legs open, the life lace at the tops of her thighs, the swell of her ass squished by the ground. Everything is absolute, utter perfection. 

Slowly gracing my hands to follow the curve of her waist then down to her thighs and hips, little bumps cover her skin. I forget what humans call them. Finding her clit with my thumb again, I rub agonizingly slow circles, forcing her hips to roll involuntarily. Barely prodding her entrance with my cock, I watch her shiver and whine, quickly getting impatient. When I back off, her pelvis bucks, her body begging for me on its own. 

Aligning myself at her pussy again, I push myself in, only letting myself about halfway inside her but she still takes my breath away. Just as she’s about to let out a sigh of relief, I pull out of her again. 

“Stop…” she whines. “Stop teasing me so much.” I chuckle with her—I guess I should get to the good stuff. “Please…please stop teasing me so much.” 

I concede and when I’m finally fully inside her, everything feels so…much. It’s all so much. I feel like I’ve never felt before, like nothing has ever had any impact before her, like nothing will ever feel as good until we’re together again. I bend at my waist, supporting myself with my elbows around her face and her eyes flutter shut.

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.” 

When she opens her eyes and looks into mine, still nothing matters—not that she can’t see me without the veil lanterns, not that I could disappear from her view any minute, not that we could never truly be together. The way she feels overshadows all of that. 

We don’t have much time, I remind myself. I sink deeper inside her, digging my face into her neck.

“Look at me,” she reminds me and I follow her instructions. We find a rhythm we both like, desperately thrusting in and out of her. “Kiss me…kiss me please,” she whispers. Our lips meet furiously as my hips dig into hers. “I need to feel you as much as I can,” she says. “Before I can’t anymore.” Resting her arms against my lower back—right below my wings—she squeezes around me, rubbing her hands up and down my waist. Delicately and hesitantly, she slides her hands up, letting her hands rest gently where my wings meet my skin. 

There’s a vulnerability to it I wasn’t expecting. It’s not something I’ve thought about before—no one’s ever touched me like that there before, not even another faerie. My breath catches when her fingers trace the delicate ridge where my wings connect to my body. I shudder, the sensation overwhelming and pleasant. Her eyes widen, searching mine, unsure if she’s crossed a line. 

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

I press my forehead to hers, nodding. “It’s okay,” I respond. “More than okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, her thumbs brushing lightly against the base of my wings.

“You won’t,” I promise, though my voice is raw, barely audible. “You couldn’t.”

Her lips find mine again, gentler this time, like her touch softened the urgency between us. The rhythm slows, turning into something deeper, more deliberate. Her hands never stray far from my wings and the trust in her touch makes my chest ache in the best way. In this moment, she sees me—not just with her eyes, but as someone she wants to hold onto, even when she knows she can’t forever.

“You feel,” she gasps. “I can’t—”

“I know, baby…” I sigh. “I know.” I silence her whimpers with my mouth, swallowing any whines that escape past her lips. I argue with myself trying to decide if I should close my eyes to savor how she feels, never leaving her lips or if I should keep them open to make sure I commit the sight of her underneath me to memory. Either way is a win for me to be fair. 

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips all over her body, tasting every inch of her. She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever tasted before, slightly salty and warm against my tongue, different from the typical sweetness of other faeries. Every time I press my lips to her, I kiss away a hardship. I kiss away the stress in her shoulders, kiss away the problems she faces in her day-to-day life, kiss away any anxieties she feels. I’m desperate to make her feel good, to remind her that none of that matters here. With me. 

When I flick my tongue over her nipple, her back arches, a gasp following her movements. I keep my thrusts steady, feeling her release building up in her stomach. I watch as her tummy muscles tighten then she desperately reaches for my hair, pulling me closer so our bodies are pressed together again. Her arms are wrapped around my torso and I can feel her clenching around me, teetering on the edge of something incredible. 

“Soobin—” she gasps. “Don’t—” Her back arches. “Hmm…I’m close,” she says, a smile evident in her voice. “Please, please…” I don’t think she even knows what she’s begging for anymore. Begging for anything—my cock, my hands, my lips, a release. 

Then, her nails dig into my lower back as she bites my shoulder, groaning loudly against my skin as she comes around my cock, pussy pulsating around me as she whimpers and whines through it. 

“Oh my god,” she pants and just as she starts to twitch from overstimulation, I slow my movements, peppering her neck and face with kisses. She catches her breath, whispering incoherent things in my ears, things like my name, swears, giggles. 

“Use me,” she whispers. I hum in question. “Use me to make yourself feel good.” I lift her legs, pressing them toward her chest, letting me reach the deepest parts of her. And everything about her feels incredible. Pounding into her quickly, I squeeze one of her tits with one hand and use the other to hold her waist in place. 

It doesn’t take long for something inside me to twist and turn, begging to be snapped so I can fill her up. My stomach ties itself into too many knots as a white hot fire burns in the pit of it. The noises she’s making adds fuel to the fire, burning and burning until I can’t hold back anymore. With a few final thrusts, everything inside me breaks, like it’s all been building until this moment. I make a conscious effort to take my time and feel everything, thinking about how her pussy feels wrapped around my cock, how her tit feels in my hand, what she smells like, what she looks like. Everything is magic. 

As I catch my breath, I pull out of her so slowly she shivers and I watch as my cum spills out of her while she giggles bashfully. I panic as I realize I didn’t prepare to clean up. Why didn’t I prepare for clean-up? She finds that little piece of fabric she was wearing earlier—what was it called again?—and uses them to wipe herself clean before folding them meticulously to store in her bag. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask. 

“Eh…” she hums. …Eh? “Just kinda bittersweet is all, you know?” I shake my head in disappointment. “No, no!” She runs her fingers through my hair, looking at me sweetly. “That was amazing.” She kisses me deeply. “I should’ve started with that. I’m sorry.” 

“You swear?”

“Of course,” she sighs. “That was incredible. It’s just…”

“I know,” I say. “How much time do we have left, you think?” Averting her eyes from mine, she looks down to fiddle with her thumbs. 

“You’re already starting to fade.” 

“Then look at me,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me until you can’t anymore.” She chuckles, bringing her eyes up to meet mine. We stare at each other, running our hands over each other’s bodies until we’ll no longer be able to feel the other. Once the Veil of Touch separates our hands again, we hesitantly get dressed during the last few minutes before the Veil of Sight and Sound completely separates us. She pulls her dress back over her head, closing off my view from her. 

We sit again, facing toward each other, anxiously waiting until I fade from her view. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. I start to reach for her, until I remember I can’t touch her. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Soobin,” she sniffles. I scoot closer to her. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she gestures between us. “Only seeing you when I’m on some kind of high from those mushrooms? This would never work. I can’t just…not see or hear you when I’m sober. I can’t—this isn’t—” Her words puncture my lungs and I can’t breathe. The ache in her voice echoes into my chest and I hate these fucking Veils. What’s the point in them anyway? Can’t they be destroyed?

“Don’t say that,” I plead.

She shakes her head, tears spilling over as she wipes at her cheeks with trembling hands. “I can’t keep falling deeper for you, only to lose you every time the spell fades. It’s breaking me apart.”

My throat tightens. “You’re not losing me. I’ll always be here. Always. I promise.”

“But I won’t really be here, will I?” she says, her voice cracking. “I won’t ever be in the right state of mind when we’re together.”

Her words hang heavy in the air and all I can hear is the soft babble of the creek. I try to reach for her again, forgetting again I can’t. My hand hovers uselessly in the air before falling back to my side.

“There has to be another way,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “Something we haven’t tried. A way to get rid of them so we can be together.” She looks at me, her expression a mixture of longing and heartbreak. 

“And if there isn’t? What then? Do we keep doing this forever?”

Leaning closer, I say, “You’re worth it.”

Her face crumples, and she presses her hands to her face as if to shield herself from my words. “Soobin, I—” I know the edges of her vision are starting to blur, the Veil is about to take me from her. Again. “Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. “Not really. I’ll always be here. Waiting.” And then I know I’m gone by the sound of her cries. I turn the water a rich, warm shade of yellow with deep golden and earthy undertones—turmeric—so she knows I’m still there with her. She stands slowly, turns and starts to walk away but stops a few steps in, she looks back, somehow right into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

[turnfires-secret]

" Experiment "

ALBEDO X MALE READER SMUT

Bottom Albedo, Aphrodisiacs, Biting / Marking

Sex with Albedo is never boring. Being an alchemist, he comes up with all sorts of strange devices, elixirs and creations. Most recently, he had developed an enhancement elixir. One that could boost the taker’s combat and elemental abilities. The only drawback, however, was that before the effects begin to take effect, the elixir basically worked as an aphrodisiac. Since this was his latest creation, and creations needed testing… the amount of intercourse the two of you have been having had increased significantly. 

 Its calm in the living room of your shared house, reading wasn’t usually one of your hobbies but on certain days it just feels right. From within the room Albedo had turned into an at-home lab you could hear some light crashing and the sound of something, or someone bumping into things. It wasn’t too uncommon of a sound. Though, 2 minutes later Albedo walks out of his lab looking more dishelved than usual. His hair that was usually done up and tidy had strands out of place, the result of running his hands through his hair. The collar to his blue button up shirt was undone aswell. 

He looks dazed as he walks over to where your sitting, taking the book from your hands, closing it and gently setting it aside. It’s cute how he straddles your lap and cuddles into your shoulder. You can tell his body is starting to burn up, his breathing is deeper than usual. Tell-tail signs that he had been experimenting with more aphrodisiac. 

“Again? I’m starting to think your just experimenting with that stuff so you can have sex”

Theres a small audible groan from him before he replies.

“Flase, While i do enjoy engaging in such acts with you, i have infact been making significant steps in my research…”

“Mhh~ whatever you say”

Using one hand, you push him backwards against the couch and pin his hands above his head. Your free hand goes down to work to unbutton his shirt. You decide not to take off his shirt fully, leaving it unbuttoned, and hanging off his shoulders. The blond haired man lefts out a small hum as you kiss his neck while your free hand fumbles with his belt and the zipper of his pants. His neck has always been one of your favorite places to mark, to kiss, to bite. Though Albedo doesn’t particularly mind the way small bluish-red bruises seem join the star that has marked his neck since his inception. It was pleasurable, a sign for your bond to him, a constant reminder. 

Freeing Albedo’s cock from the confines of his boxers, you reach down to his hole to find that Albedo seems to have already prep-ed himself for this. How cute. Using some excess lube, you lean down into his neck and slowly start to jerk him off. Using your full hand, then just afew fingers to play with the tip, then just your fingernail to run against the small slit at the top. Compared to your own, Albedo’s cock was smaller, was is strange to think that was hot? Repeating these motions, over and over rewards you with the blond haired man’s breathy moans in your ear as you work your ‘magic’. By way of the aphrodisiac in his system, he cums quicker and more than he usually would. 

Getting back up from where you were previously in te crook of Aledo’s neck you undress yourself, you push his legs forward in order to gain easier access to his hole. Leaning down, you let your lips meet his before slowly pulling away and pushing in. You find yourself buried in his neck, kissing and biting as you set a slow yet rough pace. Your hand comes down from pinning his arms, now more focused on keeping yourself stable. A pace that the chief alchemist clearly enjoys by the way his nails dig into the skin of your back and the small pleasured hums that escape his lips. It was slow but rough and hard. It jolted Albedo’s body back every time. It made it feel like every time you pushed in, it’d hit deeper and deeper. Each thrust was like clockwork, your cock hitting so deep inside that he swears he could feel it in his head. It sent the equivalent of a shockwave of pleasure through his body every single thrust.

“M-mh~ Ah~ Y-You can go a-a bit faster”

You do and the small hums turn into audible breathy moans and whines. This new faster pace only served to intensify it all. The pace, forceful and rough was almost violent. Despite this Albedo found his aphrodisiac infused body enjoying the sensation to the fullest. Usually it’d feel like his body was being ripped in two, however the aphrodisiac worked it magic making this near-violent somewhat painful pace you set feel like celestia on earth. 

Albedo had moved on from simply digging is nails into your back, now he was holding you against himself as a way to stabilize himself, as a way to not stray too deep into pleasure. However, you can tell the alchemist is close by the way his insides clench around you, the way he gets louder. 

“Ah- Mh~ aah~! I’m going to- mh~! Y-Y/N~”

With such an angelic voice like that, how could you resist? Fucking him just abit harder you both eventually cum in tandem with each other, both of you taking afew second to catch your breath. Albedo, the ever hard worker, uses his arms to prop himself up as you slide your dick out of his body. Staring down as your cum begins to leak out, ee lets out a almost tired sounding hum before mumbling something along the lines of:

“ Be a shame to let this go to waste, perhaps i could use it in an experiment…”

He turns his attention to you, kissing you gently before getting out from under you, his pants left disgraded on the living room floor and his shirt unbuttoned. He was always so resourceful, weather that was a good thing or not way yet to be seen… 

Oh well… It’s not like you could be mad at him for too long. 

[elden-hicks]

A note for the fellow strugglers in TS1

Hey, it's Seth! I know how frustrating TS1 can be (considering it's age and being the first game in the franchise), so I am here to introduce a list of personal must have mods and programs, which I always use whenever I re-install the game to make it more user-friendly. The list itself is quite short, actually, since it only consists of my personal gameplay choice mods. So there's no building objects, deco, skins and heads there.

MODS AND CC

This calendar will report the day of the month to your sims and -- and this is amazing -- even introduce a concept of days off. Sims should have about every 6th and 7th day off. - THE ABSOLUTE MUST HAVE. It's in the painting section and costs 15 simoleons. Works a bit wonky with children, but otherwise a very useful mod to have.

Call work/give interview job phone plugins to give your sim a day off. - I use those mostly when sims have to take care of the baby.

A family mod by Gothi_family_4ever. - another must have in my collection, introduces the familial relationships in game! No more inappropriate relationships between relatives. It's a 0 simoleon painting, which you can delete once you've done.

A hacked frigde mod by the same author. - allows your sims to put their food into the refrigirator, call the household members for the meal, and requires the usage of products (like meat and in-game vegetables) in order to cook a dish instead of insta-paying. You kinda have to build a grocery shop for your sims, so they could buy the required products, I prefer to install the stalls into the pre-existing farm shop in Old Town area. P.S DON'T FORGET TO READ THE INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE INSTALLING BEFORE DRAGGING ANY FILE. As much as I love this mod, I don't, for example, use their cereal add-on.

The Elixir ExpressiBuy Computer. - a computer that allows you to buy any in-game buyable product (like vacation gifts, grocery, tonics, etc etc) in stock. They won't magically appear overnight but would be brought by a special courier npc. It also allows your sim to research logic, creativity, culinary and mechanical skills. I'd also recommend diving further into their site, since they have a lot of cool and unique gameplay content as well!

MagiCo's Bookshelf of Dimensional Storage - the official Maxis item, that was in the 'Get Cool Stuff' section. Allows your sims to keep their magic coins and ingrediends in special bookshelf storage, I mostly use it so the kids could get the ingredients for their spells from the adults. It is in the Magic section, btw

The Magic Mirror - the only outright cheat object that I have in my possesion. This mirror refreshes your sims needs, builds skills, friends, stardom, etc. Saves headaches when you are not in the mood to fullfill your sims' mood, ha-ha.

PROGRAMS

SimEnchancer 3D - basically a program that allows you to change the basic sim's attributes, including their heads and bodytypes. If you are familiar with TS2's SimPE, you'd have the idea how it works. NOTE: if you have to run your TS1 game as an administrator, you'd have to open it up in the same vein as well. And don't forget to backup your UserData files when you are working with it, just in case!

The Sims Creator - the official Maxis program for players to create some basic skins content. The program is only suitable to work with head and skins textures and not the meshes! Likewise, if you have to open the game as an administrator, you'd have to do the same with that program.

NEIGHBORHOODS

This section for the fellow premade enjoyers out there, who mostly played TS2 before and decided to give the local premades a chance as well

Here you can download the original UserData 1 and 2 if you want to reset your neigborhoods as they were if you had already played the neighborhood before and want to start anew. The Sims Wiki also gives you an instruction for how to do so.

And here you can download the additional Maxis families like The Hatfield, The Maximus, The Mashuga, The Snooty, The Jones and that weird agent White House familes. For some reasons, some of them refused to function in my game, so I had to install the empty houses and recreate them by hand, using the SimEnchancer and Wikia to give them appropriate skills and careers.

OTHER

Sims 1 Alternative UI - refreshes your game by a margin. I really recomend this one!

Well, that's basically it! I hope, my list would help you as well!

[supernova41st]

Scent 🕯️

Tf2 mercs scents

A/n: I was gonna say something about Medic shaving but then I got flash banged by that one picture of him with the hairy chest.

Scout

He took the term ���cologne king” and ran with it.

He puts on like 10 sprays of cologne every morning guys it’s bad

Tries to cover his sleep stank with cologne every morning but it’s very much there

He does use deodorant because he’s not THAT stinky (tho spy is the one who forces him to wear it)

“Scout, did you put on your axe this morning?”

“ughhhh I don’t wanna 😒”

Uses 2 in one because he’s lazy asf. He’ll only use the good stuff if it’s from spy.

He doesn’t rlly care for face care, he uses the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ass and it works fine surprisingly

His rooms smells kinda musky but it’s subtle,it mostly comes from his mattress that he’s been using since childhood (which he barely fits on)

Heavy

Have you’ve ever been inside the car of a guy who works out frequently? Yeah

He smells musky asf, he does sweat a lot so it makes sense!

He has a subtle Cinnamon smell to him, no one knows if it’s from something he uses or if it’s natural

If you ever give him a hug god rest your soul cuz all your gonna be huffing in that day is his scent.

Def uses Dr squatch deodorant cuz he’s classy like that. Wont use cologne unless it’s a gift from someone

Spy

You’ll never catch this man being stinky, EVER.

He uses the good shit, Le Male Elixir, showers every night, and every now and then has a Smokey scent to him.

Scout begs and begs for his cologne but he’s a gatekeeping king so he won’t budge.

“SPY PLEASE JUST GIMME THE NAME”

“Absolutely not.”

“CMON-SPY WHAT ARE THE TOP NOTES? WHERE DO YOU NORMALLY SHOP??”

His shampoo has no scent + he doesn’t really care for buying the expensive stuff cuz his hair is always covered anyways.

His skincare is pretty good, uses face wash serum and moisturizer. No anti-aging stuff tho, he personally thinks aging is a privilege.

Pyro

If you can smell these two photos, you’re smelling pyro

Medic

He just smells like a hospital, but when finishing a mission he smells like straight blood.

His hospital smell mostly comes from the latex gloves he has to wear, the blood smell is from surgery’s or brutally killing enemies. (Obv)

Definitely doesn’t mind getting blood on him, so if you complain about the smell to him he’ll shrug it off.

Cologne wise he’d use something minty, he’d only ever use it when going somewhere fancy. Other than that he sees no use for cologne.

He’s quite high maintenance, so he never stinks nor does he necessarily smell good. He just smells like.. medic.

Demoman

You’ve ever took a whiff of milk to check if it’s expired? Yeah.

Sorry but he does not gaf, there’s a puke stain on his shirt from like a week ago + he uses pretty cheap cologne.

Def uses Irish spring cuz I said so, it fits him.

Would have a sleep stink but getting a sleep stink would come from a bed, lord knows he’ll make it to his bed before passing out drunk.

He doesn’t shave, he uses child safe scissors to cut his beard 😭 someone help him.

Engineer

ITS BAD.

but it’s also like, hot?

He had that garage workshop scent, he’s also sweaty cuz of course he is. For god sakes he’s in his 50s and doing garage work he shouldn’t be doing that he should be sitting down and having a fucking glass of water.

No cologne for him, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that being all the sweat he collects from making shit he probably shouldn’t be making !!

Showers at night cuz that’s when he gets all the sweat off, he takes those piping hot showers that would burn off a normal persons skin off.

Sniper

He hangs around piss jars all day, I’ll let you do the rest.

No sleep, no cologne, just him. He just smells like rain and spoiled milk.

His camper van smell interesting to say the least, it’s not necessarily clean so it just smells like straight coffee, not the good kind.

He’s not that musty! He is quite hygienic.. in a way

He had a skincare routine, and spends half and hour in the shower cuz he ends up dozing off after a while <//3

He does NOT play about that skincare routine btw, if he sees a pimple he’s tracking down what he used to cause it.

Once he does he’ll use it as target practice lol

Soldier

This guy smells like 1000 things at once.

If you took a whiff of him he’d smell like straight dirt at first, but then it somehow transfers to a wet dog kind of smell, with a hint of oil.

*need a cologne of that

If you offer him deodorant/cologne he’ll deny it. He says that the way he smells is how god intended

His helmet smells FOULL, if you take the tiniest sniff you’re gonna pass out.

[kenzan-brainrot-mp4]

talk more about the white whale/whale symbolism in general whatever thoughts you have on the whale stuff i want to hear it 👂

GRAHHHHH YEAH (This one got. Long (again lol) So be prepared (series-wide spoilers but I feel like that's a given atp))

First of all I just wanna say that I love how rgg drags the player along around the final chapter title. With how upfront the other chapter titles are in what they're referring to, you might end up wondering why they chose White Whale for the final chapter title once you see the title card (or at least I did). Of course, this could just be referring to the treasure that everyone's been looking for, but with how nonchalantly they react to the fact that the treasure isn't actually there, it doesn't seem to completely fit the bill.

But then you beat the game (and by this I mean beat the final boss) and lo and behold, there's an Actual white whale, and so you think "Oh! Duh, the chapter's called White Whale because there's a literal white whale and it pretty much just finished off the final boss!" But that still doesn't make that much sense. Why name the final chapter (arguably the most important one) after some whale that appears in the last like 15 minutes of the game? Like, take the final chapter name of (Kiryu) Gaiden, it's literally the name of the game (The Man Who Erased His Name) so it's gotta be something more significant than that, right? (But then of course take into the account that by this point the player is still convinced that nothing really in pyih is too deep/serious, so maybe it could just be something as simple as that).

Then you get to the credits, and they reveal that the "elixir"/the ambergris is found in the stomachs of whales. Damn, that's pretty crazy/cool, but once again, nobody that was actively seeking the treasure (Rodriguez, Jason/Noah, Spade Tucker, etc you know the drill) seems to hung up on the fact that they didn't find it, and they didn't even encounter the whale, so they wouldn't get that same sense that they just missed it either, again, it's not a big deal really, so why make that the final chapter title?

Of course, we all know what this builds up to: the big reveal, the fact that Majima, who we've been following along with this entire game, was looking for that elixir this entire time, was the only one to actually encounter a whale in the game, and then there's the insane line drop from Saejima.

"Kiryu Kazuma. You never could give up on that one."

Ironically, the final chapter title has nothing to do with that whale you saw earlier at all, rather it's a summary of what Majima's motivations/actions for this game, and the past. Almost every game, has meant for him. It's what Saejima spells out for us at the end of the game, but said in even fewer words.

An all-consuming obsession that only leads to your destruction. An impossibility, something that you can destroy yourself over but never achieve/obtain. This is what the white whale means, metaphorically. And it is this, exactly, that Kiryu is to Majima.

Kiryu is larger than life itself, to just about everyone. He's a legend, he's the one Majima has had his sights on since the very beginning, the legend he chases after game after game and also what he destroys himself over game after game.

(see:

Yakuza 1 -> Majima just straight up taking a full-on stab wound for Kiryu. Like, buddy, I literally saw one of my favorite characters die that way in another game, there was No guarantee you were surviving that.

Yakuza 2 -> Majima fights off an army of yakuza for Kiryu. That man was beat to total Shit (which is Not something that happens often) and we all saw it

Yakuza 3 -> Majima re-enters the Tojo Clan for Kiryu even though he is (extremely likely) aware that it is already entering its steady decline that we see throughout the rest of the series up until its dissolution. And while he's willing to do it for Kiryu, we can't exactly say that he's happy about the situation as a whole.

Yakuza 5 -> Majima's willingness to die for Haruka, specifically stated because "She means more to Kiryu-chan than life itself." Like, of course he wouldn't just let Haruka get killed, but to choose to mention Kiryu as part of his reasoning in that moment? Christ

While I (surprisingly) can't say anything particularly self-destructive happened in (Kiryu) Gaiden and Infinite Wealth, you could argue that Majima trying to more and more directly tell Kiryu not to leave ("No need to rush outta here yet... Alright?" -> "Don't leave! Don't you dare leave, Kiryu-chan!"), knowing that it's likely pointless, knowing Kiryu, is not doing himself any favors.

Pirate Yakuza -> *gestures at the entire game*

Also his reaction to encountering that giant squid ("Sure is a helluva way to die. I think I'm into it!"). Like, okay. I don't want to try and read too much into it because it was very likely just a one off line. But I'm still gonna side-eye it.

Honestly now that I think about it, if Majima Had died fighting that giant squid (that is such a way to begin a sentence thank you rgg), you could argue that that would've been his nail in the coffin for the white whale metaphor. If he had, it would've meant that his obsession for Kiryu is what got him dragged down into the literal depths of the ocean, and even if it wouldn't be Kiryu physically dragging Majima down like the white whale to Ahab, this is a situation that is completely, entirely, fueled by Majima's obsession towards him (Majima had no real interest in the nuclear waste cleanup project, after all, Kiryu was his one motivation this entire time), and it would've drowned him.

Guess that means he got real lucky with the last part, but we all know he sure as hell isn't beating the allegations.)

All this and yet Majima seems to fail to reaching Kiryu time and time again.

Majima does not obtain the Heart of the Dragon, found in the intestines of the literal whale. He does not obtain eternal life for Kiryu. And he (arguably, though the final scene of him walking to Kiryu's hospital room could oppose this) does not resolve the indefinite limbo that has been sitting between them throughout the entire series. What he gets at the end of the game is the acknowledgement (through Saejima, everybody thank him) that he has been obsessing over this, and perhaps the realization that Kiryu was, in fact, this white whale that he would never truly reach ("Well, still just a dream in the end.") Of course this is something he already knows/has acknowledged deep down, and it's a feeling that is hinted at in some of his dialogue in scattered moments, but this is the first time he ever says it in such an outright manner.

I guess in a way, you could say that Pirate Yakuza is a story about the newfound success of all the people Majima helped and supported in achieving their dreams, and the continued failure of Majima in pursuing his own (Kiryu), and him needing to acknowledge/accept that. And the post-credits begs the question of what he decides to do with the aftermath and what he has left. (An oversimplification definitely but still. augh. Augh)

Naming the final chapter White Whale was yet another crazy move on rgg's part. Its so unassuming, seemingly straightforward yet also seemingly insignificant, but once the realization dawns on you it slaps you right in the face, just like everything else about this game does. It's yet another instance of how rgg managed to pull its big reveal so well, with all the small details, all the reframing, all pointing back to the same topic that it had spent the entire rest of the game dancing around.

Majima recounting his story of how he went to Hawaii -> Majima recounts his story to Kiryu in the exact same way at the very end

The treasure everyone's been looking for/known about + Majima, the one guy who didn't have knowledge about any of this legend stuff prior? -> Wrong, he was after the treasure from the very start (before the amnesia at least). For Kiryu

Majima originally being on course for Hawaii so he could help with the nuclear waste cleanup even though he'd be bored as hell? -> Nah. For Kiryu (Ohhhhh you know what this is reminding me of some screenshots I took from near the beginning of the game)

(I'm sure this meant nothing of course. Lol. Lmao)

Majima's dream during pirate yakuza being to fulfill Other People's dreams -> Haha. Well, I think you get the point by now

Kiryu, Kiryu, Kiryu. It all goes back to Kiryu, every single time, without fail, in an obsessive loop that Majima has been dragging himself around over for Years. He is the white whale, seemingly untouchable, the constant object of Majima's attention and devotion in so many forms, his consistent weak point, that only seems to dig at him deeper as the games go on.

Like I said before, while the white whale metaphor is undeniable, and essentially spells doom for Majima, it's not over for him yet. Because, hey, he didn't drown at sea, or die on the beach. He was saved, and he's survived enough to retell that tale and reflect on it all with Saejima in the post-credits, brief as that reflection was. I mentioned before how he really only said one line of any actual substance during that specific part of the exchange, but the significance of it says so much.

"Well, still just a dream in the end"

As much as it hurts to here Majima address the hopelessness of it all, to hear him say something like that after Saejima basically just laid out his sheer devotion and refusal to give up on his dream for everyone to see, I think the bittersweetness is. Good, actually. Captain Ahab never gave up on that pursuit on the white whale, and it destroyed him; that whale dragged him down until he finally drowned, and it feels like all Majima has been doing over Kiryu since Yakuza 3 is drowning himself in him.

Don't get me wrong, I (for now at least) do not take that line as a complete admittance of defeat, or Majima finally giving up on Kiryu, on that dream he could never let go of. (Like I've been saying, it's an acknowledgement, not exactly a declaration.) I do not think it means he is just letting go, full-stop.

But I do hope it means he can stop himself from self-destructing completely. I hope it means that he can slow down with the wild chase, (and that he and Kiryu can just. Sit down and talk like fucking normal people. Which i guess they are doing in the post-credits, supposedly) and I hope it means that he won't drown completely, especially in the case of the worst possible scenario.

[millenianthemums]

Chapter 6 of Mabel’s Guide to the Power of Friendship is up!!

Writing this one took me a while, and then the art also took a while… everything took a while. i always enjoy writing this once i get to it, though! hope you enjoy this one too.

PREVIOUS

INDEX

chapter text under cut:

It was hard for Mabel to really relax, knowing that Bill was lurking just below the floorboards. But by the time the sun was low and her family was gathered around the dinner table, she’d mostly put it out of her mind. It was hard to be miserable with them around.

“You think Soos will bring more empanadas when he’s here tomorrow?” Dipper asked, picking at the strangely opalescent casserole on his plate.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were insinuating something about my cooking,” Ford said wryly.

“Whaaat? No! No, don’t be– that’s ridiculous,” Dipper said. “This is great! I mean, it’s a million times better than last time, this one didn’t even come to life and attack us–”

“Don’t jinx it,” Stan said.

“Hey, c’mon, guys,” Mabel piped up. “It’s the thought that counts, right? It’s really sweet that he tried. Besides, even Grunkle Ford can’t be perfect at everything.”

Ford chuckled. “Thank you, Mabel. As far as backhanded compliments go, that’s quite nice.”

“It’s true!” she said. “So what if you’re not a chef? You invent, like, six magical contraptions a week!”

“That’s a wild exaggeration,” Ford said with a grin. “It’s been at least a month since the last one. Although Fiddleford and I have made some real progress on our current project…”

“New project?” Dipper perked up. “What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if the details will interest you that much–”

“Shaaare!” Mabel demanded. Dipper immediately joined in, both of them pumping their fists and shouting “Share! Share! Share!” until Ford laughed and gave in. They all knew he didn’t really need that much encouragement, but it was fun anyway.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you.” Ford waved his hands to set the scene, the way he always did when he started talking about science stuff. “So, we all know that unicorn tears have remarkable healing properties, right? But we also know that unicorns aren’t generous creatures, and trying to obtain some tears by force often creates more injuries than they could ever heal.”

Stan snorted. “And how many tries did it take for that lesson to set in?”

“Not the topic, Stanley. Anyway, our goal was to synthetically recreate the healing properties of the tears, eliminating the need to seek out the real thing. This has been in the works for a long time; in fact, our biggest breakthroughs came from studying the sample Mabel and her friends obtained last year…”

Dipper extended a fist to Mabel, and she proudly bumped it.

“...And I must say, we’ve had some very promising results with the latest prototypes! There have been some hiccups here and there– we really should have fireproofed the lab sooner– but I think in the next few weeks, we might even end up with something that could surpass the healing properties of unicorn tears!”

“Nice!” Mabel held out a fist to Ford. “Take that, you overrated horses!”

Ford laughed, accepting the fist bump. Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Here’s hoping you get it workin’ before we set out again. It’d make things way less stressful on the boat. Heck, the coast guard medics might even have time to forget our names!”

“Wait, you’re setting out again?” Dipper asked. “When?”

“End of the summer, same as you kids!” Stan said proudly. “First thing in September, we’re headed right back out there.”

Ford nodded. “We still have a lot more to investigate. I expect we’ll be very busy once Fall comes around, which is why I’m under strict orders to ‘take it easy’ while we’re here. Otherwise, the elixir would probably be finished by now–” Stan crossed his arms, and Ford quickly added “--but I completely understand the point of it. Rest is important, kids.”

“Darn right,” Stan grunted. “Far as I’m concerned, we’re both on vacation for the summer.”

Dipper tapped his fork on his chin. “So you won’t be studying Gravity Falls for a while?”

“C’mon, brobro,” Mabel chided. “Grunkle Ford’s willingly taking a break for once, let’s not remind him of all the extra stuff he could be doing!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Dipper protested. “I’m just saying…”

“It’s a fair question,” Ford said. “There certainly are plenty of mysteries left unsolved around here. But I think Stanley and I have broadened our focus a bit too much to give special attention to Gravity Falls anymore. Just our brief stay in the Arctic Circle alone has raised so many fascinating questions, and we still have so many more places to investigate… there’s just not enough time to solve all the world’s mysteries, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, relax, Poindexter,” Stan cut in, shoving Ford’s shoulder. “We’re not the only ones working on this stuff. Something tells me Gravity Falls’ll be in good hands, even without us.” He gave Dipper a meaningful wink. Mabel couldn’t help but smile at the way her brother’s face lit up.

“Hey, guys?” Dipper asked, leaning back in his chair and trying to seem subtle. “Can we talk after dinner? I was hoping to get some feedback on this project I’m working on…”

Mabel’s smile faded. “Is it about that dumb thesis contest?” She turned to the Grunkles and pointed accusingly at Dipper. “He won’t let me help with it! He wouldn’t shut up about how cool it would be to win and get a big smarty-pants paper published, and now that he’s allowed to start working on it he won’t even tell me what it’s gonna be about! I could have done like fifty illustrations by now if—”

“I told you, there’s nothing to share yet!” Dipper protested. “I’ve… kinda been putting it off. I’ve still got a week until the topic proposal’s due…”

“Then what do you need Stan and Ford’s ‘feedback’ on?”

Dipper tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh… it’s…”

“I could help,” she said, voice a little louder than she’d wanted. “Even if it’s something I’m bad at, I could help make it look cool. If you just told me a little bit about it…”

Dipper sighed. “Look, Mabel, I promise I’ll share it with you soon, okay? I just… I want it to be a surprise.”

Mabel looked at him doubtfully over the rim of her water glass. She wanted to keep prying, but it was clear she was just making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her help, he just didn’t know how to say it. She could tell.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to sound hurt. It was fine, really. She had high-speed bike riding; Dipper was allowed to have things just for himself too. It was normal for twins to grow apart. She drained the rest of her glass and stared down at the tablecloth.

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Then Stan spoke up. “Speaking of surprises. Hey Sixer, remember that thing we ran into off the coast of Greenland in March?”

Ford laughed. “How could I possibly forget? Now, kids, I don’t know about you, but nothing in my paleontology education gave me the impression that wooly mammoths were aquatic…”

Soon Mabel was too wrapped up in seafaring stories to be sad about anything.

——-

Bill must have fallen asleep at some point. He’d been lying there, in the basement, in the dark, with the Pines’ infernal voices ringing above him, but then something had happened. The voices changed. And suddenly he wasn’t in a basement anymore. He was lying on an exam table, and his arms were strapped down, and his eye wouldn’t close, and the air was thick with antiseptic. And there were voices all around him, moving around him, but he knew he couldn’t look, he just had to keep his eye focused on the stars overhead, just don’t look, just don’t look at them, just pretend they’re not there, pretend you’re among the stars and nothing’s happening, nothing hurts. So he didn’t look away, not even when the quiet voices he could hear through the pain changed again, became painfully familiar, he still didn’t look, even when they started screaming, even when their cries and pleading were drowned out by the sounds of flames, even when the heat waves twisted the air and the crunching, sizzling, tearing sounds and the smell of burning meat drowned out all his other senses he still didn’t look, he didn’t look down, he wouldn’t–

And then he was back in the basement. It was dark and still. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

He sat up and scrubbed at his face with the blanket he’d been wrapped in. Dreams. He hadn’t been ready to deal with dreams. Other people’s dreams were a riot. Not his own.

He’d been distracted too quickly to dwell on the last one. He’d foolishly hoped that would be the last one for a while. But no, of course not. This world couldn’t allow him even a moment of peace. Every sleep was going to be like this.

In the dark, he staggered to the small bathroom in the back of the room. He ran the cold water in the sink and rinsed his mouth until he forgot the taste of the smoke. It was so vivid. So convincing. Even though none of it had made any sense, it felt real.

He stared numbly at the mirror. Their voices. He’d remembered them, of course. Despite all the worlds that had sprouted and withered between then and now, despite everything he’d tried, he’d never been able to stop remembering them. But he never thought he’d have to hear those voices again.

Someone knocked at the door.

His first thought was “thank god”. He’d been desperately hoping for anything else to think about. His second thought, as he heard the door unlock, was “that could be anybody”. So he stood just at the edge of the room and prepared to run for cover, until a small, high-pitched voice said “It’s me.”

Bill relaxed a little. Not a lot, but more than zero. He scrubbed his face dry and straightened his bowtie before she entered, trying to look as stoic as possible. She didn’t seem to notice anything amiss as she rushed in and slumped against the door to shut it. Both her hands were busy carrying an overloaded paper plate.

Trying her best to not let it fold under the weight of the food piled onto it, she glanced around for a surface to place it on. The curved lid of the wooden chest was considered, then quickly rejected when the plate started sliding. She winced before resorting to setting it down on the floor beside the beanbag. Finally, she retrieved a packet of plastic utensils from a takeout place and laid it beside the plate, trying to make it look presentable.

“We need to get a table or something in here,” she muttered as Bill drew closer to inspect the offering.

“YEAH, SOME APPLIANCES WOULD BE NICE TOO,” he joked. “I’M THINKIN’ A STUDIO APARTMENT KIND OF SETUP. WASHER AND DRYER OVER THERE, THAT CORNER’S THE KITCHEN… FULL-SIZE JACUZZI ON THAT SIDE, OBVIOUSLY…”

“I have six dollars,” Mabel piped up.

Bill laughed before he could stop himself. Encouraged, she went on: “I mean, there’s an empty fish tank and a car battery in the garage. We could make a hole in the side and stick a blowdryer in there for a jet. That’d be fine, right?”

He laughed again. “I LIKE WHERE YOUR HEAD’S AT, KID. IF WE SHUT OFF THE SPRINKLERS, WE COULD SET UP A FIRE PIT IN THE KITCHEN CORNER!”

“Perfect plan!” Mabel laughed along with him, but then seemed to think better of it. “But okay, hold on, we can start with the home renovations later. For now, you should eat.” She pointed to the plate. “It’s just some leftovers from tonight. Figured taking more snacks would look suspicious. But if it, uh… disagrees with you… then just let me know tomorrow.”

That wasn’t a glowing review. Looking dubiously at the alleged “food” on the plate, he didn’t see much reason to doubt it. Still, he tried to look grateful as he picked up a plastic fork. “WILL DO,” he said, trying not to look down.

“I’ll come back down tomorrow, before the others wake up,” she said, crossing back over to the door. “Including Grunkle Ford… ugh, that’s gonna suck. But once I’m back, we’ll figure out a plan, okay?”

Bill glanced around the room. “I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE PLAN,” he said.

“C’mon, you can’t just stay in one tiny dark room all summer! This isn’t Guacamole or something.”

Bill snorted. “GUANTANAMO?”

“Whatever,” she said, flushing. “The point is we need to get you outside once in a while. You have scales, things with scales need sunlight or they get sick. And what’s the point of all this work if you get sick and die??”

She had a point there. Bill shifted uncomfortably, realizing he wasn’t totally sure if the sun thing would apply to him or not. “YEAH, FAIR ENOUGH. KEEP FORGETTING THIS…” he gestured to the body, “…THING NEEDS ‘VITAMINS’ AND SUCHLIKE.”

“Relatable, honestly. But there’s a bunch more stuff to plan out, too! We need to be able to contact each other in emergencies. And, like, a secret knock so you know when it’s me, and a code to communicate…” as she spoke, her hands started flapping with excitement. “Oh my gosh, it’s like one of those spy games Dipper likes. We could make a guidebook with all this stuff! Like a, what, codex? For the code? We could make our own code! You can handle that part— I know that’s your thing, it’s literally your name… I get to do all the art, though. It can have a scrapbook vibe— I gotta find my craft scissors with the zig-zags—”

“KID.” Bill cut her off. “I KNOW IT’S IN YOUR NATURE NOT TO TAKE STUFF SERIOUSLY. IT’S A GOOD TRAIT! MAKES LIFE A LOT MORE BEARABLE. BUT THIS ISN’T SOME SILLY SUMMER CRAFT PROJECT. THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH, GOT IT? CAN WE TRY TO ACT LIKE IT’S IMPORTANT?”

She looked hurt. “Silly things are still important,” she muttered. “We could hide it in here. And even if someone finds it, it could be any goofy old thing I made! Dipper showed me how to do that invisible ink thing; I could act like the empty space is just unfinished parts! I dunno, I just… I thought it’d make this whole thing a little more fun.”

Bill squinted at her as she stared at the floor, arms crossed tight over her chest. Then he rolled his eye. Maybe he was being a choosing beggar here. This was Mabel Pines; of course she’d want to make some stupid game out of this. And the whole plan was to humor her. If this was what it took to keep her invested, he should probably just play along.

“OKAY, FINE. I’M IN,” he sighed. “WE CAN MAKE A BOOK OR WHATEVER.”

She lit up again. “Really?? Yes! Awesome! It’ll be so fun, I promise.” She paused and glanced at the dark window. “But we can start that later. I gotta go get at least a tiny bit of sleep first.”

Bill shrugged. “SURE. CAN’T KEEP THIS BODY ALIVE IF YOURS GIVES OUT.”

“Thanks for the concern,” she snorted. “And see you in the morning.” She gave a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Watching the door, he heard the heavy “clunk” of the lock clicking shut, then rapid footsteps bounding up the staircase. He sighed and pinched his forehead. That much youthful energy couldn’t be sustainable. She probably wouldn’t live past 20.

As he waited for the various noises and occupants of the house to settle, he wolfed down the food as fast as he could. The kid was right to be apologetic, but if he ate quickly, he didn’t taste it much. It was just fuel anyway.

When the plate was finally empty, he dropped it back to the floor and picked up the plastic fork. He rinsed it in the sink as well as he could, wiped it dry with the paper napkin that came with the set, then bent one of the tines away from the others. He leaned one side against the crack in the door, listening intently to the silence from above. There wasn’t a whisper of movement.

He stuck the tine of the fork into the lock.

It was more stubborn than your typical household lock, but Bill had bested much worse with much less. It only took a little finagling before he heard the “clunk” he was listening for. Slowly, cautiously, he eased the door open. The hallway was dark and empty. He stashed his impromptu lockpick in his hat, locked the door behind him, and crept up into the house.

—-

The place was as quiet and dark as he’d hoped for. He’d been right to judge by the footsteps above him that they’d all gone to bed. And thankfully, even without his usual glow, the stars outside were bright enough to see by. He crept along with his back against the wall, testing each floorboard before he stepped, scanning his surroundings.

The decor was about the same as he remembered, with a few notable changes. A lot of the ceiling and walls had been replaced; probably necessary after they turned it into a big stupid robot last year. And it seemed like someone else might have moved in. There were some new decorations that weren't anything close to the “style” he’d come to expect from the place. Lace doilies hung from the tops of chairs and sofas like dusty cobwebs, and handmade blankets and wall hangings were scattered all around. Shooting Star was crafty, sure, but these didn’t look like her handiwork. The colors were way too easy on the eye, and there wasn’t a crumb of glitter to be seen. If they were her doing, they were a big step down in quality.

But if they weren’t, it meant an extra person to deal with. Better keep his eye out.

He turned a corner and a massive shape blotted out the hallway ahead. He scrambled back, clenching his teeth tight beneath his eyelids to stop a yell from escaping.

Then his eye adjusted, and he had to stifle an irritated growl. It was just that stupid pig. He’d forgotten how huge it was now, and it looked a lot less pathetic from a low angle. It was sitting in the middle of the floor, directly in his path, staring down at him. Its eyes glittered in the moonlight like two tiny black teeth.

Bill glared up at it defiantly. Just let it try and make a move. He might not have magic, but he still had claws and teeth. A ripped throat wasn’t as flashy as immolation, but it was still perfectly fatal.

The pig returned his stare with no discernable expression. A few silent seconds crept by.

Then the pig gave a grumbly snort and laid its head on the ground. It flopped onto one side and closed its eyes with an indifferent sigh.

Bill hurried on, telling himself to thank his lucky stars instead of feeling indignant. Still, his ego stung a little. Not even livestock saw him as a threat anymore.

To his relief, he had no more surprise encounters as he cased the second floor. The layout of the rooms was about the same as before, which meant the sounds of walking from above his little home base would still be a reliable method of tracking the inhabitants. He steered well clear of all the bedrooms and kept his back to the wall, and the floorboards beneath him kept silent. He was out of practice with walking, sure, but nobody who grew up causing problems ever forgets how to sneak through a hallway.

Once he’d made mental notes of all the storage spaces that might have supplies he could use, he headed for the portal. On the way through the gift shop he snagged a small notepad and pen from behind the desk. Scanning over the portal wreckage, he made a list of the missing components and tools he’d need. In code, obviously; secret codes were literally his name, after all.

Once the darkness outside started to lift away, he cut his work short and headed back. He tore the used page from the notebook and placed it and the pen back where he’d found them, exchanging them for a single paperclip that he stashed in his hat with the paper. That was all he felt comfortable taking for now. It was much too early to start gathering supplies. Anything left out of place would definitely make the kid suspicious. For now, he’d just plan. Make sure everything went as smoothly as it possibly could. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all the power tools and steel he’d need down to the basement without being noticed, but there was no point freaking out about it now. He’d figure out logistics later. He could pull this off. He was going to pull this off. He had no other choice.

By the time the first pink rays of light had breached the horizon, he was back in the cell. The paperclip made a perfectly serviceable lockpick to latch the door behind him. Like nothing ever happened.

He curled up in his nest of blankets, trying to hold his eye open. Hoping to ward off the dreams a little longer. But eventually his exhaustion won the battle. His eye slid shut.

Maybe the next dream would at least be over quick.

—-

Bill’s wish came true. As soon as he jolted awake, he regretted making it. It felt like he’d been yanked out of a tar pit by his eyelashes, but his brain stayed behind. His head, chest and eye socket all felt like they were stuffed with wet cotton, and his bones were shaking with this sudden painful chill. His thoughts were so slow and muffled that it took a second for him to even realize that someone was staring him right in the face. He lurched away and fell backwards off the beanbag.

Mabel poked her head over the beanbag and beamed down at where he lay on the floor in a tangle of blankets. “Morning!” she said in a bright half-whisper. “How’d you sleep?”

Bill glared up at her with silent disdain. After a moment, she seemed to take that as an answer. “Yeah, me too. Had a lot of stress dreams. Anyway, time to figure some stuff out.”

She disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared at his side with a fuzzy pink notebook and a chunky pink pen with a glittery pom-pom topper. She leafed through the book for a minute, then looked up at Bill. “You ok?”

“I’M DYING,” Bill croaked. It was barely hyperbole. That freezing, sinking pain just kept getting worse. Every second he kept his eye open, it felt like gravity increased tenfold.

Mabel hissed through her teeth. “Hold on a second.” She vanished from view again, then popped back in with a mason jar full of what looked like the fluid from inside a neon pink glowstick. She propped him upright and shoved it into his hands. “Drink this.”

Bill ought to have been at least a little suspicious of a drink presented so vaguely. But a billion years of drinking cocktails made from substances meant to power quantum reactions, combined with the weight of sheer exhaustion muffling all his thoughts, meant that he barely hesitated before lifting the jar to his eyelids and taking a gulp.

A second later, his eye shot wide open. “WHOA!” he shouted, blinking rapidly.

“Ooh, I might’ve put too many pop rocks in that batch,” Mabel said. She grabbed the jar and shook it, sending frozen fruit shapes and plastic dinosaurs clattering around in a glittery whirlpool. “Mixing it usually helps. Dipper keeps telling me to warn people before I give them this stuff—”

Bill grabbed the jar back. He took an approving glance at the crazy-looking drink— now that his brain was working, he could fully appreciate the vibe— and then knocked back another mouthful. A rush of energy buzzed through his brain, setting his neurons alight like christmas lights hooked up to a nuclear reactor. The dangerously sugary concoction stung the inside of his mouth like acid, but this was a fun kind of pain. “OH, THIS IS PHENOMENAL.”

Mabel’s face lit up. “You like it??”

“DO I?!” One more swig and the jar was empty, and Bill was actually bouncing in place a little. “I FEEL LIKE A WHOLE NEW TRIANGLE! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“It’s Mabel Juice!” she beamed. “My own personal secret recipe! It’s so secret, not even I know what the secret is! Seriously, I hardly ever write the ingredients down.”

Bill laughed. “WELL, COLOR ME IMPRESSED, KID! I HAVEN’T HAD A DRINK THAT GOOD SINCE THAT BATTERY ACID DAQUIRI I MIXED BACK IN THE ‘30s. AND THIS ONE DIDN’T EVEN DISSOLVE MY STOMACH!”

Mabel’s smile dropped for a second, then returned. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” she said proudly. “I’ll bring more down later. I’ve got a million different brews you can try! The others don’t drink much of it, they always complain about how there’s ‘so much sugar’ and it ‘burns their mouths’ or whatever…”

“HEY, THEIR LOSS! I’LL TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS! EXTRA BURNING ON THE SIDE, IF YOU’VE GOT IT,” Bill offered. He had to hand it to the kid; she made pouring on the charm pretty easy. In a better world, he would’ve hired her as a barista in the Fearamid.

Mabel grinned, but then her face froze. From somewhere upstairs, the familiar sound of heavy, clomping footsteps rang through the ceiling.

Bill froze in place too, his eye locked on the ceiling. His teeth clenched tight behind his eye socket as he tried to repress his anger. Like a favorite song after you set it as your morning alarm, that sound made his blood boil on contact.

“Grunkle Ford’s up,” Mabel whispered. Bill glanced over to see her watching the ceiling too. “I thought he’d at least sleep ‘til five…”

“RISKY GAMBLE THERE,” Bill muttered. “FORD DOESN’T HAVE A SLEEP SCHEDULE, HE JUST WORKS ‘TIL HE KEELS OVER.”

“He’s working on it,” Mabel said defensively. Maybe Bill hadn’t kept all the derision out of his voice. He kept his mouth shut, just to be safe.

“Okay. Alright. This is fine.” The kid was clearly reassuring herself more than him. “He shouldn’t hear us down here. Nobody heard you screaming your head off the other day, they shouldn’t hear us just talking… we should be fine for now. As long as he doesn’t wander down here and happen to just randomly get close to this room. Or wander upstairs to his office and pass our bedroom and happen to look in and notice I’m not there. So as long as he stays on the exact floor he’s on now, we’ll be okay…”

“KID, RELAX. YOU SOUND LIKE PINETREE,” Bill laughed. “WITH HOW LOUD THOSE STEPS ARE, WE’LL HAVE A TON OF WARNING IF HE HEADS FOR ANY STAIRS. JUST CUT TO THE CHASE SO YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP FOR NOTHING.”

She shot another worried glance at the ceiling, then nodded. “Okay. Sure. The chase… hold on.” She grabbed her notepad and pen again, then started rooting around for something else in the backpack she’d brought. “The Chase, part one. Secret messages. Ooh, that’s good.” She opened the book and labeled the first page with that title. Bill bit his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that huge pink bubble letters weren’t the best choice for subtlety.

“Now,” she said, throwing the notebook down like a frazzled detective presenting her notes. “I would’ve loved to, like, build a two-way radio out of soda cans, or find a way to send smoke signals through the A/C system or something. But I think we should wait on that ‘til later. Right now, simplicity’s the name of the game.” With a victorious flourish, she revealed the thing she’d fished out of the bag. It took a second for Bill to parse what the battered old thing even was. A cell phone. An ancient, blocky brick of a flip-screen cell phone.

“YEESH!” he exclaimed as she shoved it into his hands. “WHAT ANCIENT BURIAL GROUND DIDJA DIG THIS THING OUT OF? IT’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR DAD!”

Mabel snorted. “Give me a break! It was the best one I could find in the closet where Grunkle Stan keeps all his burner phones.”

“WELL, I’D HATE TO SEE THE COMPETITION!” Bill remarked. “WHAT WAS THE WORST ONE, A CLAY TABLET? A BONE CARVED FLUTE TO CALL THE NEANDERTHAL TRIBE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN?”

Mabel hid a giggle behind the turtleneck of her sweater. All according to plan. Jokes were a great way of lowering a mark’s defenses, even if they didn’t land. And despite her best efforts, Shooting Star was a good audience.

He held down the power button and marvelled as the dusty, scuffed screen actually lit up. “WHAAAT! LOOK AT THIS LOGO! THIS COMPANY WENT UNDER IN 2002! THE CEO BURNED DOWN THE OFFICE TO HIDE TAX FRAUD AND MELTED HIS EYELIDS OFF!”

Mabel clapped her hands over her ears. “Ugh!! Why would you tell me that?”

“BECAUSE IT’S HILARIOUS! THE GUY WAS A TOTAL LOSER ANYWAY, HE WAS TOO UPTIGHT TO TAKE MY DEAL AND COULDN’T EVEN HANDLE A WEEK OF NIGHT TERRORS BEFORE HE CRACKED—”

“Anyway!” She cut him off. “This was the only phone I found in the closet that could send texts. We need to be able to keep in touch, so you can let me know if you’re hurt or need more supplies, and I can warn you if people upstairs can hear you practicing your evil laugh or something.”

“WHA— HEY! WHO EVEN— NOBODY NEEDS TO PRACTICE THEIR LAUGH, THAT’S JUST STUPID.” Bill hoped he didn’t sound too defensive. There was no way she actually knew about that, right?

She just rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. “Point is, that phone is yours. Nobody’ll recognize that number. My number’s in there already, you can text me in morse code if you need something.”

Bill looked up from the phone screen to squint at her. “MORSE? C’MON, KID.”

“What’s wrong with morse?”

“THAT’S THE MOST BASIC CODE IN EXISTENCE! YOU REALLY THINK ANYBODY IN THIS HOUSE WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE MORSE WHEN THEY SAW IT?” he said. “YOU THINK THEY’LL SEE YOU ANSWERING TEXTS IN MORSE FROM SOME RANDOM NUMBER AND HAVE ANY OTHER THOUGHT BESIDES ‘SHE’S HIDING SOMETHING’?”

Mabel sighed. “Okay, fine, Mr. Code Snob. What should we use?”

“WE SHOULDN’T ‘USE’ ANYTHING. WE JUST KEEP THINGS VAGUE AND SIMPLE,” he said. “ANYTHING THAT EVEN LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE CODE WILL JUST GET PEOPLE’S ATTENTION. BESIDES, IN A HOUSE FULL OF CON ARTISTS AND MYSTERY DORKS, I DOUBT THERE’S ANY CODE WE COULD USE ON THIS THING THAT NONE OF THEM WILL RECOGNIZE. THESE TEXTS NEED TO BE AS BORING AND UN-MYSTERIOUS AS THEY CAN POSSIBLY BE. SO BORING THAT NOT EVEN PINETREE IN HIS SNOOPIEST MOOD WOULD GLANCE AT ‘EM TWICE.”

Mabel pursed her lips. “Spam!” she said after a minute. “Dipper and I get spam texts from random numbers all the time. We can make up a system where I know what you’re saying based on what you’re trying to sell me. Like a scam alphabet!”

Bill’s eye crinkled with his version of a grin. “NOW YOU’RE TALKING!”

Mabel grabbed her pen and started rattling off scams to list in her notebook. Stan had clearly taught her well, and between the both of them they soon had a massive list to work from. On the opposite page, they listed phrases to match with each scam. “NEED FOOD”, “NEED SUPPLIES”, “INJURY”, “FIRE”, “RACCOON GOT IN”, and so on. As soon as they had a workable “alphabet”, the kid insisted they start deciding on secret knocks. They’d just started to argue about whether “shave-and-a-haircut” was too uncreative, when suddenly Mabel stopped short and held out a hand. Before Bill could ask what was up, he realized what she’d heard. A voice from upstairs. A voice that was much too prepubescent to be Ford’s.

“Dipper’s up,” Mabel hissed. “Why is Dipper up? He never gets up this early on his own… Did he notice I was gone? Is he looking for me?? How am I gonna get back up without—”

“GEEZ, RELAX,” Bill said. “LOOK, THE STAIRCASE TO THE ATTIC IS RIGHT ACROSS FROM THIS ONE. JUST WAIT UNTIL HE’S IN THE KITCHEN…” he pointed to that corner of the house, from where Ford’s voice was now ringing through the ceiling, “AND YOU CAN SNEAK BACK UP WITHOUT BUMPING INTO HIM. JUST DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU LEAVING THE BASEMENT, AND WE’LL BE FINE.”

“I don’t like how much you know about our house.”

Bill pointed to his eye. “REMEMBER HOW HALF THE DECOR IN HERE USED TO BE MY EYES?”

“Yeah, duh. Doesn’t mean it’s not creepy.” She shuddered, and Bill tried not to laugh. At least the memory of his powers still inspired fear… but he didn’t want her knowing how happy that made him.

Mabel gathered up her stuff and headed for the door. “I gotta go before he notices I’m not sleeping. Soon as I get a chance, I’ll sneak back down and we’ll sort out the other stuff on my checklist.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. BE SEEING YOU, KID.” He couldn’t resist putting a little extra emphasis on that word, pointing to his eye again with a smug, half-lidded smile. Shooting Star was his ally for now, sure. But she shouldn’t forget where things really stood. He was the one who was really in control here.

“And I’ll use the We Will Rock You knock.”

“UGH, COME ON!” Bill protested. “I’M TELLING YOU, SHAVE-AND-A-HAIRCUT IS THE GO-TO FOR A REASON, IT’S PRACTICAL—“

“See ya later!” She winked and vanished through the door. The lock clicked heavily into place.

Bill glared daggers at the door until the sound of footsteps had faded away. Then he took off his hat and rifled through the lining, taking a reassuring glance at his folded-up notes. And the paper clip fastening them in place. That dumb kid put way too much trust in that lock. Did she really not realize the danger she’d let into her house? Did she really not know what she was dealing with?

His eye was drawn in by a soft gleam from deep within the hat. He brushed some fabric aside and stared at the fragment of his dimension. It caught the dim light in the room and threw it back much brighter, twisted into colors that didn’t exist anymore. It hurt to look at it with this new eye. He let his gaze rest on it longer than he should have.

Then he tore his eye away and shoved the hat back on. No, she definitely didn’t know. The fact he was still here— still alive— was proof enough of that.