#chakayla’s royal decree

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021: Body Party

Smut ahead. Read with caution.

Day Four: “Hey beautiful, are you single?” “We’ve been married for a year.” + fun

Read of Ao3

The rays of the late afternoon sun glisten on the wide expanse of ocean, glittering and twinkling so bright that it would be blinding without the large-framed sunglasses perched on her nose. Everything is peaceful here. Howie had wanted to visit this little villa for so long. It’s always in high demand so scheduling had never been in their favor. They’ve always been too busy with work and the kids. Normally, by the time they were able to finally be together alone, it’s the end of the day and they’re exhausted. Maddie had made it her mission to surprise him with five blissful days of just the two of them because life, as wonderful as it is, had gotten in the way and they hadn’t been able to have a real honeymoon and she figured their first anniversary as a married couple was the perfect time for a getaway.

“Hey, beautiful, are you single?” she hears him next to her and she peeks an eye open. Chimney extends out yet another fruity cocktail he’s mixed up. His skin shines from the sunscreen and he’s deliciously golden, his abs emphasized by the past couple days of relaxing in the sunshine. His soft lips are against hers as he hands her the glass, and she can taste the alcohol and fruit on his lips.

“We’ve been married for a year,” Maddie playfully rolls her eyes when they part.

A year ago, had been the best day of their lives, perhaps only overshadowed by the births of their three children. It’s the longest they’ve ever been without their now prides and joys. But the Lees had offered a week of babysitting and who were they to deny themselves a real honeymoon. They had gotten married three months after their youngest son was born, the wedding had been planned and he, just like his sisters, had been a surprise.

“And yet, it feels like just yesterday you said, ‘I do’,” He grins at her. He’s so sweet, always has been. He makes her heart flutter still and she couldn’t be more grateful.  

Those eyes of his, deep and commanding run down her posed body. His favorite color is red, and the scarlet bikini was carefully chosen so she would receive the exact look he’s giving her right now. The one that says he’s all hers and she’s all his and that he wants his hands all over her. He craves her, is crazy about her, and perhaps she had forgotten just how much in their busy life. But he’s reminded her every single day that they’ve been alone and he’s going to continue to do so for as long as they live.

He thinks she’s even more beautiful than he remembers her being all those years ago when he  had set up her security system. Her skin is already tanner than it had been at the beginning of their vacation. The swimsuit emphasizes it and he think’s she looks as good as caramel drizzle.

“Take a dip with me,” he tugs at her hand and she’s happy to oblige, both of their drinks being placed on the small table.

The water is cool, and the sea breeze filters around them. They are weightless together, unencumbered by anything other than just being present with each other. For a few minutes they simply enjoy their close solitude, arms wrapped around each other as they float and bounce from one side of the pool to the other. His nose nuzzles her chin. Her hands run through his hair. The breeze of the ocean cools them while the beating of the late sunshine keeps them comfortably warm. Their kisses are slow, languid, and passionate.

The edge of the infinity pool leads right into the ocean. It’s truly beautiful, but it is no match for his wife. He thinks Maddie’s touch as his wife is just as new as it is familiar. It’s all made up in his head, but he’s more sensitive to her, every touch eliciting a chaotic whirlwind of primitive lust. Chimney kisses the base of her neck, his teeth nipping at her collarbone, and a shiver runs through her.

“The salty air turns you on, does it Mr. Han?”

His chuckle is low, and he presses against her thigh to show her just how aroused he is. She licks her lips, her hands tugging at his arms in what can only be called thinly veiled desperation. That’s all for her, Maddie thinks to herself. Had they not already been standing in the pool; she knows she’d be soaked already. If it were up to her and her constant impatience, he’d be buried inside of her at this very moment, but he wants to make this last because they’ve only got two more nights here in paradise and every moment, every bit of pleasure he can draw from her matters.

“Patience, Mrs. Han.”. Maddie figures she’ll never get over sharing his last name, of choosing to be his just like he chooses to be hers.

He has too much power over her. She’s known that for as long as they’ve had a romantic relationship. So, she wills her fingers to grasp his chin to make sure he pays attention to her and her only, a sneaky smile on her face. Their lips hover over each other, a ghost of a kiss just centimeters from connecting before she leans back and floats away from him. He groans at her teasing, his delayed reach for her hindered by the buoyancy of the water.

Her hands reach behind her back when she has his undivided attention, unclipping the clasps of the bikini top and letting the offending material fall away from her body to float above the water. Chimney’s eyes are practically vantablack in color. He’s frozen for a moment, his gaze focused on the tops of her breasts as they peek out above the water. All it takes is a raised brow for him to be back by her side, to have her pressed against the wall of the pool. His lips are against hers once more but no longer is it that soft, loving kiss of before. Chimney is filled with desire, lust, devotion, excitement, and he wants to show her just how much she affects him.

Maddie is so grateful they have no responsibilities for the first in so long. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to plan. There is just him and her and them and they can touch and caress as much as they want to.

She looks so damn sexy, delectable really. His hands raise from the water, his digits testing the weight of her breasts along with the water. Her nipples hadn’t been this sensitive when they first started sleeping together. Her body has changed, though, and he’s learned every new lesson he needs to. Those talented fingers roll smooth circles around her nipple, the pink nub becoming erect from the indirect touch. Her lip is caught between her teeth as though she’s trying to stave off her moans that threaten to fall already.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Han,” he says, and she smiles at him.

“Yes, Mr. Han?” His own sly grin is enough to tell her exactly what’s on his mind though the hand against her ass and the other stroking her thigh under water were signs enough.

“I have some rules.”

She grunts in vaguely disguised annoyance mixed with euphoria because of course he has rules for her. It only means that he’s going to be relentless in their lovemaking which she welcomes despite the impending torture. Maddie hums to let him know she’s listening. His lips connect to one of her taut nipples and she has to focus on him, on his words, on his rules or else she’ll never last long.

He releases the nipple when her hand starts to tremble against his arm. Chimney looks her directly in the eyes saying, “I want to hear you. Every moan, every word, everything, Maddie Han. Do you understand me?”

She nods. But that won’t do, and he lets her know it won’t. Her breathing stutters before she can verbalize her understanding, his lips distracting her when he leans down to capture the neglected nipple. There’s no one around for miles, the villa being the perfect excluded vacation, so there’s no pressure to be quiet. There’s no one to complain or to make them feel embarrassed about how passionately loud they can be. There will be no knowing glances from strangers. There’s no need for hushed whimpers and sneaky touches. They are completely uninhibited by anything, and the thought alone gets her heart racing and her thoughts of what she’s going to do with him take a turn for the sexy.

Chimney’s lips release her nipple to find her lips, his hands tracing her curves under the water. Maddie’s never been good at keeping her focus on him when he touches her. Her skin sizzles and tingles and it makes no sense, but she can’t think when his hands are on her like this, sure and confident. Simultaneously, he reaches for her bikini bottoms, and she reaches for his swimming trunks, helping each other out of the offending material that floats far away from them, joining her discarded top. She opens for him easily as he slides a single digit between her folds. She’s so good at stroking him, but he’s better at distracting her. The guttural moan that falls from her lips breaks their kiss. Chinney’s deft fingers stroke between her lips with such agility that her own hand falters against his dick. He’s taking over as he always does, prioritizing her and her pleasure over his own, getting her head to swim like it’s in its own pool of water. He pushes her hand away, pins it back with his free one while her other clutches at his shoulder.

Underwater sex isn’t the greatest, but they’re so lost in one another that it doesn’t matter.

“You love this, don’t you,” he huffs into her ear. She can’t take that, the gruffness of his voice that drips with arousal as he talks her through it. She can’t listen to him because she won’t last long if she does. But that’s his entire purpose and they both know it. Maddie immediately needs more of him, much more. She nods her head, says yes against his cheek as he dips one finger inside of her, then another, enjoying the stretch of her around him. He sets the pace somewhere in the middle, not too slow and not too fast and she’s building just a quickly. The curl of his fingers inside her send sparks to the tips of her toes. There’s no stopping them now that they’ve started, there’s no going back until they are completely and utterly spent and exhausted. Maddie wishes she could give back the same intense feelings he’s giving her, but he’s content with her taking because she’s so beautiful and the sounds she makes are euphoric. He’s content with adding a third finger and curling them deep inside, feeling that rough patch of flesh against his fingertips that drives her absolutely wild. His voice is silky smooth as it reaches her ears, guiding her up and up the rollercoaster of pleasure. He lets her hand go in favor of wrapping his own around her thigh, lifting her leg. The angle of his thrusting fingers changes and that does the trick The new angle sends her over the edge, and she climaxes against his fingers, their bodies pressed as close as they could possibly be.

Her arms cross around his neck, the only thing keeping her standing is him and the bouncing of the water. Chimney is still so strong, the years of being a firefighter-paramedic keeping him in perfect shape though it would be easy to let himself go with a wife and three children. Her legs are around his waist in an instant, his lips attached to the valley of her breasts as he pushes against the tension of the water. He moves up the stairs out of the pool and places her back against the lounge chair. He’s not done yet. Chimney won’t be done with her until she’s incoherent and babbling. In no time, her legs are around his shoulder, his lips connected to her still pulsing center. She tastes of the chlorine and salt and the musk that is unique to Maddie and Maddie only. She is honey in a steaming hot cup of tea, scalding his tongue as he readily drinks every last drop of her.

She’s so beautiful, mouth open in a desperate but silent cry of lust. He wishes he could really see her while he tastes her. “Are you dying for me to touch you?”

“Ch-Ch-Chim,” she stutters out, hips still whining at the constant tugging of his mouth at her clit. Maddie knows he won’t stop until she releases against his tongue. but she longs for him to be inside of her right now. “Please…” is all she can get out as her head fogs with pleasure and her breath puffs out in gasps.

All she receives in turn is the vibrations of his chuckle against her pussy that sends her once again careening to an almost over stimulated point of pleasure. Their lips connect. The taste of her clings to his tongue, the smell of her to his beard and they’re intoxicating in a way that could never be compared to alcohol.

She still wants him two orgasms later though she’s tingly and sensitive. It blows her mind because he knows it too. Two orgasms and she’s ready for him to fill her and draw out a deeper sensation. Against her cheek she hears him ask, “You want me to fuck you?”

He has to ask it again because she’s somewhere else, somewhere that has her lightheaded and dizzy. He gets his answer when she whimpers, “Yes…”

He drags his dick along her slit and she’s so incredibly wet he can’t help but groan out “oh fuck.” Maddie’s laugh is weak. She absolutely loves the affect they have on each other. How they can bring each other pleasure with the simplest of touches and how it intensifies the longer they’re together. He teases up and down and up and down until he knows she can handle him fully. It takes a few minutes of soft grinding and whispered nothings, but eventually she nods that she’s ready for all of him.

His cock is pushed between her legs in one solid thrust that forces her to sharply inhale, her nails digging into his biceps. The stretch is just as delicious as it was years ago. He fills her perfectly, fully. She writhes and squirms, matching his movements stroke for stroke, and the pleasure is overwhelming. Every inch of him is inside of her and he’s not going to last long. She isn’t either. If she were on earth and not miles and miles away in her own pleasure, she’d tease him about the way he tries to focus on something other than her velvety walls. She’s so wet, so smooth, she drips around him.

“You’re desperate. So desperate.” She hears him say. And all she can respond with is gasps of air and meek little yeahs. He’s not going to get more than that, he knows, but he keeps going. “You like that don’t you? You like how good I fuck you.”

Her teeth sink into his shoulder, her nails carving long, scarlet welts in his back, and the sound she lets out is so guttural, so primal, he thinks he’s lost her to her pleasure. He knows her body so well. He hits all the right spots, his hips rolling in perfectly timed rhythm. Every thrust, every kiss to her neck, and she’s being brought closer and closer to the most intense release yet. Chimney is losing control right along with her. She doesn’t have to hold back; he doesn’t have to either. He groans between gritted teeth, accompanying the slap of their bodies against each other creating some type of sensual symphony. Those rough, calloused fingers pulse against her clit, the pleasure relentless.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby. Are you ready?” He knows she is, can tell by the way her walls squeeze and pulse around him. She can still manage her repetitive yeahs and they’re so needy, she’s so ready. Both of their bodies grow taut and suddenly everything is silent as their pleasure snaps and they climax together, their lips open in unison but no sound coming out as he spills inside of her.

He stays buried deep within her; his kisses still being placed to any portion of skin his lips can meet. Chimney knows she loves to feel the weight of him in these afterglow moments, the closeness, the intimacy. They lay together for a beat, simply breathing each other in and catching their breath. Eventually they’ll move, part from each other, and go back inside, but they’ll never grow tired of each other. Not after one year, not after one hundred years.

[artsoupsoupart]

Me, hoping this encourages you to write more Madney smut because 🥵🥵

Lol~ I started writing one thing and then got an idea for another thing and then settled on this, the third thing. So yes it did and here goes some smut. Proceed with caution readers. I call this: 

After Workout Workout 

The tips of her fingers tingle and she’s flushed red with sweat clinging to the edges of her hairline. Maddie is still catching her breath as she makes her way up the three long flights of stairs (she hadn’t wanted to take the elevator) up to Chimney’s apartment after her morning workout and run. Picking up boxing with Buck had been an amazing stress relief and the run she always did afterwards gave her time to simply be with herself for a few minutes. It had been a great workout day. She was quicker on her feet, her punches felt more solid and overall, she just felt pumped and ready for a relaxing day with her boyfriend after her brother had encouraged her to have an earlier workout session on their day off.

Her breathing begins to normalize as she opens the fridge, the pitcher of filtered water calling her name. She’s pouring a glass when she hears the door to the bedroom open. As always, his face brightens when he sees her and he's still shirtless as if he's just gotten out of bed.

His lips meet hers and he tastes of minty toothpaste. “Welcome back. How was the workout?”

“Good. Buck was Buck and did a lot but good otherwise.” In a swift move, he’s trapped her between himself and the counter, his hand sweeping her hair away from her neck. “I’m sweaty, Chim,” she laughs, halfheartedly pushing him away. She really is very sweaty and it’s not the best look and she’s not sure how she smells though she knows he is barely even considering either of those things. His lips press to her neck, nipping and she’s so gross how could he ever think whatever it is he’s thinking. Then his hands are on her shoulders, pressing into the spots that have already become sore.

“What kind of plans do you have today,” his hands are still massaging but have trailed down to press against tense spots in her back and gosh, that feels so wondeful. She begins to relax at the constant pressure and circular motion, melting into his touch and oh, he’s good. He’s got her right where he wants her, and it happened so fast she could have gotten whiplash from it. Maddie hadn’t known just how intense her workout had been but if the knots that are being released are any indication she may have gone a little overboard.

“Nothing much,” she winces but then sighs when his thumb presses on a particularly sore spot, leaning further into his touch. “I figured today we’d relax, catch up on that one show you said was so great.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles against her shirt just between her shoulder blades.

She makes a sound that definitely something between a grunt and a moan when his hands find another sensitive area on her side. Maddie can’t help bending slightly to place a steadying hand on the counter. “I should shower first.”

“Mhm, may I join you” and there really is no reason to say no. She raises a brow at him, the hopeful smirk on his face making it easy to say yes. What’s one more workout before she can really relax?

She grabs his hand and leads him to the bathroom, undressing along the way as she shakes her head at herself at how easily she just gave in. But the water feels divine on her sore muscles and her boyfriend is close behind her, his eyes hungry though she can't see them at this exact moment. Chimney behaves himself for all of three minutes as she drenches herself in the hot water. He helps her lather up, soap covering her shoulders, dripping down her body. They make eye contact, and he smiles before returning to his task. She's covered neck to toe in soap when he spins her to face away from him. Chimney's body presses against her, both of them under the spray of water, his hands touching and stroking and caressing as the soap washed down the drain.

His lips connect to her neck as his fingers circle her nipples. He pinches just enough, and she sucks in a sharp, stuttering breath. He encourages her to lean a bit more fully into him, her head falling into the crook of his neck as one of his hands travels down to her waist, to her hips, then to her plump lower lips. She briefly tenses, lets her lips kiss his to stifle a bit of a moan that slips through as his fingers pick up speed. Their kiss turns clumsy quickly as she gets lost in the pulsing of those lithe digits that have learned her body so well.

“Touch yourself, Maddie,” his hands stop what he’s doing and finds her own, guiding her fingers to her clit. If she had time to think about it, she’d dwell on how wet she is. She'd wonder if it was the added shower, but the truth is that it's because of him. It's always because of him and she wants to tell him to fuck her instead because this teasing has to stop, and it has to stop right now. She says his name, but he shakes his head, knowing how impatient she can be. The hand on top of hers encourages her own to circle her clit, to stroke herself until she finds a rhythm she can get lost in. Their breaths fill the air, combining with the sound of the shower. Chimney watches her, expletives and encouragement falling from his lips to her ears.

Suddenly he turns her and presses her back to the cool tile, ignoring the sound of her whine when her hand falters at her center and he drops to his knees. Maddie continues stroking herself for a second because he didn’t tell her to stop and at this point, she's so close she doesn’t think she can. She definitely doesn’t want to. Chimney's lips press to her stomach, his tongue dips into her belly button and she shivers despite the heat of the shower. His nose nudges her hand out of the way and his lips connect to her core, tongue stroking along her slit. Her eyes roll back, and her hands rake through his wet hair. Nothing compares to Howie’s mouth on her. Well, nothing except him being inside of her.

Chimney loves the way she rides his open mouth, rocking her hips against his tongue. He watches her from below, breast jiggling with each gasp and shudder and moan. He licks and circles her engorged clit. Her mouth drops open in an "O", her lips tremble. He laps up the taste of her as two fingers spread her open before entering her. She writhes against his fingers, pulses around them as his tongue continues to work her closer and closer to the edge. She flinches and rocks as he reaches further and further inside. Maddie can't speak, can't handle any more stimulation, can't handle his mouth against her, his fingers inside of her and she cums and cries out and cums and cries out some more.

With heavy breathing, Maddie turns off the shower before roughly attaching her lips with his, moaning at the taste of herself. They kiss sloppily as she leads them out of the shower and to the bedroom. They fall onto the bed, Maddie straddling his waist, still dripping with water as they become more fully lost in each other. They are definitely going to need another shower before their tv marathon.

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021: Paint Me as You Mourn Me

Day Three:   “I don’t care what happens to me as long as you’re safe.” + angst

Read on Ao3  

“Ch-Chim,” her voice is so far off in the distance, somewhere behind the ringing in his ears. It’s dark, but there are flashes of light pulsing into his line of vision, and he knows he’s hit his head at some point. “Chim, you can get out. Something—”

Her own grunt of frustration cuts her off as he shakes his head, eyes blazing with certainty as his vision clears enough to focus on Maddie, the one person he had secretly vowed to protect from the moment he had met her (even if he didn’t really know the extent of said vow). He looks around for something, anything that could free her from the weight crushing her. “No, gotta get you out first.”

He can think a bit clearer now that the dust has settled, and he’s taken in his surroundings. There had been an earthquake. It had shaken everything and anything, but then it had stopped. The aftershock, though, was quick and intense, and then they were falling, and Chimney was losing everything that meant anything to him. She’s not gone yet; he has to remember that. She’s not allowed to leave him he thinks to himself. Not yet at least. There’s a long trail of blood dripping from her head, thick and oozing, and her eye and side of her face is already beginning to bruise something grotesquely purple. He remembers the ground shaking, remembers thinking this is one of the biggest earthquakes he had ever experienced. He had shielded her with his own body, protecting her in the passageway of the parking garage but then the floor gave out beneath them, and they fell and tumbled to whatever was below.

“Baby, I’m…” she groans out in a pain so distinct that it sinks his heart. “I’m stuck. You have to go. If you don’t,” Maddie winces in pain, her words slurring. “If you don’t—”

“No!” he cuts her off again, his hands cupping her cheeks. “I don’t care what happens to me as long as you’re safe.”

The first time he had picked up a paintbrush, Howard Han was eight years old and at school. It had been the most natural transition from crayons and color pencils to acrylics and watercolors. He had loved it immediately and had gushed to his mother over and over again about how he had wanted to paint for the rest of his life. He painted even the most mundane of scenes. There were canvases of the sky and the moon and the woods behind his home. He had journals and sketchbooks of little moments of ice cream trips and big events like graduating. He mapped out every important event of his life through acrylic and graphite and watercolor.

Setting up Maddie’s security system had been an easy tradeoff for beer and pizza. He had said yes before even meeting her, mainly because he is kind and gentle and the safety of someone is his main priority no matter if he’s on the clock or not.

And then he had seen her. She had said she’d never seen Mission Impossible and what a travesty that is, he had joked. Immediately he takes notice of her, drinking her into his system in the least creepy way possible. She’s blue but not in the dangerous, threatening midnight or oxford blue of a raging ocean where the sea threatens to swallow and drown him whole. She’s nothing like the broad strokes of a pallet knife, thick and aggressive and coarse. She’s far from the aquamarine that drips of hopelessness and grief that he knows so well. She doesn’t make him sad. She doesn’t make an alarm go off in his mind that encourages him to put up false pretenses that will lead to absolutely nothing and drain him of everything he thought he was.

Instead, the strokes of paint are soft under the round brush. Featherlight but abstract because this is already beautiful but so wonderfully new. Chimney doesn’t know the last time he’s felt like this or if he’s ever felt this feeling before. He yearns for her already though they barely know each other, they don’t know each other. Still, she’s a calming sapphire, welcoming and brilliant. He wants to learn what makes her smile, what makes her laugh, what makes her dream of love and light. She sparkles already and he’s only known her for a couple hours. For just a moment he knows he can’t begin to capture what she makes him feel on a piece of linen wrapped around planks of pine.

…

Takeout and a movie between friends, that’s all this is. It’s all this will be because they’re friends and he’s content with that. For each tomorrow, he makes a vow that says if friendship is all they have, that will do. Because she’s been through a lot. It’s what she needs and what she deserves and he’s grateful to be witness to a side of her that he thinks is reserved for few people in her life. He is witness to her tenderness, to her gentle hands and soft voice. He’s on the receiving end of her bright sarcasm and welcomes it just as she does his (corny) jokes. They are friends, but they’re closer than that. She leans her head against his shoulder when they watch movies. He comforts her when scenes are a bit too much. Being allowed to hold her hands is sage green with wide, smooth strokes. They laugh together. She makes him walk and talk differently but they’re just friends. Maybe.

The thin liner brush traces the blobs on the canvas, outlining, defining the images beneath the black paint. For what it’s worth, the old Chimney is gone. The old Chimney would contrast with what exists now. The old Chimney is replaced with one that compliments the sage of who she is. Perhaps now he is a blush of pink that mimic his cheeks when he’s near her, or a muted orange that is warm in a way he couldn’t be before. Together they are a peach sunset on a sprawling meadow. He’s relaxed when he’s with her. He doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to lie. She laughs at his jokes and leans against his side. They are warm and inviting and everything good pools just from being together.

They’re just friends and he can be okay with that for as long as she is as well. He won’t push. He won’t press without her because they’re friends but somehow they’re also partners. Together, they are free to be, to exist and open themselves up entirely.

…

He told her he loved her. She is who he loves, with cats in her throat in the morning. She is who he loves, dancing together in the kitchen, cuddled together on the couch, the morning after saving a life. He is who she loves, with his jokes and his strength. He is understanding and hope and joy. She loves him just as much as he loves her and that burns across the pages of his sketchbook, page after page being filled with their desire, affection, and devotion to one another.

Her eyes shine as she smiles at him, they sparkle more than stars in the deep onyx of an unpolluted sky. Perhaps that’s what he’ll miss the most if he loses her one day. The way those deep ebony pools of burnt umber darken because he loves her. The look in her gaze shoots him directly in the heart every time, without fail. She’s gold, a brilliant yellow that blazes through his very being, his very soul. The light that they’ve turned on is bright and blinding and he thinks this is the end all, be all for him, for them. It takes every bit of self-control in him to not fidget as he paints their passion against the pale beige canvas.

Then they’re red, scarlet, burning bright as they connect with one another. This time is different, better. They’ve professed their love for one another, and it shows in their touch, in their kiss, in the warmth of skin against skin. The strokes are angled, precise. He thinks of time as he paints. How they’ve spent so little of it together in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because time goes along with space and they’re well beyond that. They care about each other’s most benign details. They are one and will be for as long as they chose to be.

…

Chimney doesn’t know why he brought the paintings. Each one leans against the wall of the hospital room, comforting him, mocking him. His eyes flicker to each one and his heart breaks that much more. The doctors say she’ll be fine. Somewhere in the back of his mind he believes their optimism, believes she’ll wake up and won’t hate him for failing her, for losing his grip on her, for being the indirect cause of why she’s even in the hospital in the first place. She’d never see it that way, see him that way. Still, he can’t help but think he should have held her tighter, protected her better.

He looks over at Maddie, watches the rise and fall of her chest under the skinny tubes connected to her. There’s so many wires, so little sound, so much light in this room and it’s overwhelming. Everything about this situation is overwhelming. He can’t get the flashes of falling out of his head. He can’t figure out why his hold on her hadn’t been strong enough, how he could have possibly let her slip out of his grasp. It’s not his fault, he’s heard it many times in the last two days. But he had let go, he had let her arms go as they fell, and she had ended up pinned beneath thick, unmovable cement and there had been a rebar of her own through her shoulder. And so much blood.

He’ll never get the image of the color fading from her face as she joked that they’d have matching scars. If only he was good enough, worthy enough to be able to wake her up. He wants to hold her while he waits but can’t risk jostling her and making things worse than they already are.

“I’m going to love you for a long time, Maddie.” His hand finds its place back in hers, tears pooling in his eyes as he realizes how cold it is. She runs cold anyway, but this is practically frigid ice against his. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him, he knows. The fact doesn’t stop him from worrying anyway. “So, just wake up now and then you can rest until you’re better.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, or speak or even flutter her eyes.

With one hand still in hers, he turns to the travel easel holding a small canvas frame and picks up a paintbrush, dipping it into the flat wash with a sigh.

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021:  Nice To Meet You Again

Day One: “May I have this dance?” + fluff

Read on Ao3

She doesn’t necessarily want to throw a ball. She doesn’t necessarily want to become ruler of their kingdom because it feels like it’s too soon. She’s not even twenty-one yet, just two years shy of it actually, but Maddie definitely knows she could run the country by herself, with very carefully selected advisors and just as tedious planning. But a future queen definitely deserves a future king (or queen), so it just makes sense to start her search now, when King Philip and Queen Margaret are almost at the end of their reign, though they’ve been at the end of their line as parents for years since Prince Daniel had been killed at war and well, they never really were parents to her and Evan if she’s being honest with herself.

At the thought of her older brother, she sighs. He had been everything a prince should be. Charming. Responsible. Brave. And gone all too soon. If only he hadn’t joined the army, he would probably still be here. He’d be taking over as king and he’d be the one compromising love for power and stability. The thought gives her pause, as she dresses for the morning. He’s been gone for three years. Just as soon as he had joined the military he had been taken away and his death had shaken the lives of their royal family and the country.

Maddie shakes her head, hoping to throw the thoughts of him out of her mind for the time being. She still misses him and probably always will, but she knows he’d want her to focus on being the best queen she could be. She dresses with the help of her maids, their chattering excitement a constant comfort. She had spent weeks picking out the perfect dresses and suits to make a good impression. The burgundy dress sweeps against her ankles and she feels confident in a way that she hadn’t since decided to begin her search. Her clothes will be at least a little comforting for the next week, a shield to show the perfectly prepared façade she hopes she pulls off.

There’s a knock at her door and in saunters her best friend, head-to-toe in his own royal regalia.

“Well, Your Majesty, don’t you look nice.”

She smiles, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not queen yet, Josh.” Maddie checks herself in the tall, ornate mirror one last time before taking off towards the door of her bedroom. “But thanks anyway. I may as well look nice for the teeth-pulling ahead.”

“It won’t be that bad, Maddie.” Josh huffs as they speed-walk side by side.

“Ew, it definitely will.” And she’s rushing through the corridors of the palace, not because she’s late (guests won’t begin arriving for another two hours at the earliest and a queen is never late, everyone is simply early), but because she wants to make sure everything is in order before the first guest arrives, mental lists being checked off with every step as she double and triple checks off item after item. “I am allowing all of the eligible princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, barons and baronesses, and well-respected socialites into my home in the hopes that one of them will be able to help me run a country without their ego getting in the way.”

It’s not that she’s necessarily needs the help. But it’s hard to be princess and harder to be queen, which, for Maddie, will occur in approximately two years. She’s been planning this moment since she was a young teen, even before Daniel’s untimely death, and she’s ready to take on the responsibility. She’s ready for the bureaucratic meetings and the late nights, but she just doesn’t want to do it alone. Maddie had figured it was about time she opened herself up to more possibilities. Sure, throughout high school and now during university there have been a few dalliances between some of the same royals she’s welcoming into her home for the next week. They were never serious, though. There was never that wonderful spark that she thinks she saw in her parents growing up.

“Don’t think about it like that.” Josh says, his hands coming to her shoulders to stop her in her tracks. “Think of it like all the other balls you’ve thrown. A time to get to know people and maybe, just maybe, you’ll have fun and find the love of your life.”

“You’ve always been the optimistic one.”

His smile grows wide. “And I always will be. Now go. You’ve got royals to meet.”

Josh is gone from her side almost as quickly as he came and he’s right. She should try to not put so much pressure on this even though it’s the most important decision she’s made thus far. She’ll try to have fun and keep an open mind.

Maddie stands outside at the top of the grand staircase up to the palace, waiting for the arrival of her guests who she’ll greet before one of the butlers shows them off to their rooms. It’s something she’s done many, many times, but this time is different. She’s on the search for something that probably won’t be love, but maybe understanding and companionship. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?

“Prince Douglas of House Kendall” the footman announces. Doug steps from the limo, his suit perfectly tailored and his hair coiffed, not a strand out of place. He’s smug, as always, flirting with her though it makes her skin crawl. Well, he makes her skin crawl now. He hadn’t a few years ago when he had been someone she thought could have been the one. He’s too arrogant in private, too strict, expects the world to fall at his feet and for it to be perfect. Still, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors and she’d be lucky to have him as her king. At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Evan, or Buck as he’s taken to being called since his own adventures have started to flourish in his life, is by her side in an instant and she knows exactly why when the telltale flags of the stretch limo come into her line of vision.

“Duchess Taylor of House Kelly”, the footman introduces in his booming voice that Maddie is sure will give her a headache by the end of the day. She would be an apt contender, Maddie silently muses, but she’s her brother’s best friend and has been for the past five years and somehow that just feels wrong. Maddie knows that her younger brother spends a lot of time with the duchess, sparring and shooting at flying plates whenever they get the chance (a surprise to Maddie considering how rough and tumble they can be). She also has an inkling that her little brother might have a bit of a crush, and she has a tinier inkling that Taylor feels the same.  

She greets her as Taylor bounds up the stairs, a bright smile on her face. They’re practically family at this point so she really would fit perfectly, but no, she’s already crossed her name from her mental list. Besides, Taylor’s excitement isn’t for her but instead for her best friend who is already talking her ear off. Maddie tells them to go ahead, have their fun while she stays and greets the rest of the guests and the dynamic duo is already talking a mile a minute about what their plans are for the rest of the week.

Maddie is there for another hour, doing princess duties and greeting each potential suitor and nosy guest who’s only attending for good gossip. Her feet are tender and her face stiff from the plastered on smile as one final limo pulls into the circular driveway, those familiar flags stopping her heart and slowing down time. Out steps one Howard Han, sleek in his country’s royal colors of bright reds and vibrant golds. She hasn’t seen him since she was sixteen, a few months before Daniel had died. It had been two weeks after his eighteenth birthday and his father had forced him to return to their country or abdicate the throne. He had loved being a prince and his mother had always said he would be a great king, but his father had rushed him into the more serious side of his princely duties earlier than he would have liked.

No time has passed at all before he’s standing in front of her with that same boyish grin that still feels so friendly yet now with an underlying hint of something she can’t quite put her finger on. He’s a bit taller than that last time she’d laid eyes on him, more muscular too.

“Princess, it’s good to see you again.” He must see the shock on her face because he’s scratching at the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t ruin your guest list. I was a late RSVP.”

For a moment she just stares at him before shaking her head with an almost shy smile. “It’s good to see you too. And it is absolutely no problem, there’s a room waiting for you.”

“Good, I guess I’ll see you later at the welcome ball.”

She nods her head, blush still coloring her cheeks as he follows the last butler to his room.

…

The orchestra plays as she enters the ballroom at the top of yet another grand set of stairs. She notices her parents have deigned to show their faces, knowing they’re only there for the press.  All eyes on her and somehow in the crowd she finds Howie’s. As much as she wants to talk to him, Princess Maddie kicks in and her smile is bright and cordial while she greets her guests. She makes a short speech and then the ball begins, and she’s swept away to mingle and dance and scope out her future spouse.  

As she dances with yet another forgettable suitor, she catches Howie’s gaze as he leans against a high table, and he pulls a face that makes her snort and hide in the shoulder of her dance partner. She shouldn’t be so focused on him, it’s not what a good hostess would do. But Maddie can’t help it. In the three years since they’ve seen each other, he’s changed. His jaw is sharper, his hair messier. He’s clean shaven and she wonders if that’s new or if he sometimes has stubble that would feel rough against her cheek… She stops herself, shaking her head and abruptly but politely excusing herself.

She stands on the side of the dancefloor, shaded by the cover of a gigantic pilar as she stops to take a deep breath. Maddie doesn’t think she expected to find the love of her life here. Love at first sight doesn’t exist, not to her at least. But if she really thinks about it, that’s not what this is either. She didn’t just see Howie for the first time and fall in love. She definitely didn’t romantically love him when they were children. But he’s so familiar, and his smile warms the pit of her stomach and that must mean something.

“May I have this dance?” Her eyes settle on the glove-covered hand, following up the sculpted arm and curved shoulder. They settle on the brightest eyes of Howard Han of Manicague and yeah, this means something. Maddie nods and her hand slips into his and they’re off to twirl around the dance floor.

He sweeps her across the room, their focus completely on each other as though they’re the only two in existence, everyone else fading to the background.

“What have you been up to, Prince Howard?”

“You know, some people call me Chimney now,” he smiles, standing a bit straighter.

Intrigued by the change of posture, she tilts her head and flashes him a dazzling smile that definitely affects him if the sparkle in his eyes mean anything. “And why is that?”

“That’s a conversation that shouldn’t be had on a ballroom dance floor.” It’s innocent but there’s something in the way the timbre of his voice drops that shoots right to the butterflies that flutter inside of her. Her foot just catches his toe enough for him to feel it. Howie winces, but chuckles through it, “Still stumbling after all this time, my Princess?”

Maddie’s steps falter yet again, her cheeks flushing scarlet as she scoffs. Because she’s been Princess Maddie and Her Royal Highness Madeline her entire life, but since she was five years old, she was his princess. Back then, she was his princess in purely innocent, best friend ways. And maybe they could be best friends again and maybe she could be his princess. His Queen.

“From what I remember I never missed my marks unless you tripped me.”

“Me? Trip a princess? Never”

She laughs again. “Please, I remember at least twice when you purposefully tripped me.”

“I was nine!”

“It was still purposeful!”

He holds her closer, the room and music from the ochestra fading away even more than it already had as warmth fills her entire being. “Well, maybe you’ll fall differently this time and I’ll be right there to catch you like before.”

Maddie’s chest rises and falls deeply as she stares into his warm, kind eyes. She nods, lip between her teeth. “Maybe.”

She has to remind herself to tell Josh that it probably won’t be that bad after all.

[artsoupsoupart]

I don’t know if you’re doing prompts, but if you are.. Can you write a hicsqueak fic, please. A spell mishap of meddling young witches resulted in Cackle’s and Pentangle’s castles merging. Hecate and Pippa woke up on their now joint bed. Their wardrobe and chambers are merged too and it took them a whole week (maybe longer) to fix it and find the culprits. Thanks! Love your hicsqueak fics btw

It’s not exactly the prompt but I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, it’s been like 3 weeks but it kinda got out of hand lol! Also: I’m not not taking prompts, but I write slow so if anyone sends one, sorry if it takes a while to get it filled! 

Cacktangle’s Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270871 

“Lights out, girls,” Hecate bellows as she glides down the corridors. Around her, doors shut closed and lights turn off as young witches clad in matching pajamas scurry into their rooms from their friends’. Each one bids her goodnight (some more confidently than others), something that didn’t use to happen, and she can’t quite pinpoint when it had started. Perhaps she had gone soft in the last few years. Not that she necessarily minds. Anymore.

She’s just about finished with her rounds when one Azura Moon slips out of her door and wraps her arms around Hecate’s middle. 

“Good night, Miss Hardbroom” the girl says as she smiles, as wide as she ever does. Hecate still freezes at the contact she should be used to after two years (especially because Azura takes every opportunity to hug her and for some reason she just can’t tell the girl to stop) but she does eventually return the embrace, tapping the tips of her fingers against the girl’s shoulder, silently noting not for the first time how much taller she’s gotten. 

Then she’s turning the perpetually exuberant witch away from her and to her room. “Good night, Azura. And do tell Miss Jones she has precisely three seconds to return to her own room.” 

Hecate doesn’t even get the opportunity to begin her countdown when the other girl pokes her head out of the room with a sigh. Azura simply continues to smile as she hugs her friend and they part ways for the night. When the door shuts behind Azura, Hecate stops and listens. With Isabella securely in her room in the Citrine hall, the castle seems quite enough. Even Mildred is tucked away in her room, though she’s not sleeping by any means. But Hecate won’t disturb the girl tonight. Not when she knows Mildred has been staying up later and later to research witching colleges (a fact that brings the older witch a bit of joy). Instead, Hecate transfers directly to her rooms for the night. 

She takes extra care getting ready for bed. Her shower is hotter and filled with lavender essence. The last few showers had been quick spells after long, tiresome days and they definitely weren’t as satisfying. She chooses a softer, silkier nightgown and takes her time moisturizing. By the time she settles at her vanity to call Pippa, Hecate is relaxed and pliable and she begins brushing out her dark locks. 

“Good evening, darling,” Pippa grins through the mirror when it connects. She’s already lying in bed, propped against her plethora of pillows. Her hair is slightly wavy from being freshly washed and it fans out against the pink silk, her face free of makeup and her freckles on full display. This is perhaps Hecate's favorite Pippa, relaxed and serene, unencumbered of being headmistress and modern magic activist. She’s delicate in a way that she can’t be during waking hours and Hecate feels a bit of pride at being one of few who has gotten to see her this way. 

"Evening, Pippa," Hecate smirks. "You look comfortable." 

The blonde snorts and launches into the events of her day. The tale is one filled with students who could stand to be more observant, mischievous fae friends, and strict council members. All things Pippa had had to deal with more or less by herself due to her deputy being otherwise preoccupied in securing more scholarships for next year. 

"But that's all in the past, Hiccup. I'm already better," the blonde breathes out. "Tell me about your day, darling." 

As Hecate recalls about her day, she notices the glassy, dreamy look that passes over Pippa’s eyes. That look that lets her know that while the blonde is definitely still listening, she’s daydreaming, most likely about her hair. Pippa has always been weird about Hecate’s hair. Smitten. That’s the look. Hecate now knows that she saw this look many, many times when they were teens and she’s been on the receiving end of the look more times that she can count since they’ve started dating, but it still makes her heart flutter. 

“I love brushing your hair,” Pippa mumbles. It’s as if she just let out a secret as tanned cheeks blush a brilliant red and the blonde looks away from the mirror. 

“Yes, I know you do,” Hecate says, as casually as she can manage. 

“I would do it every night if I could,” she says, referring to brushing. It only makes Hecate smile wider and she reminds her that while that would be fantastic, they have other responsibilities that prevent that. The petulant look on Pippa’s face is almost comical as she huffs and pouts. Hecate simply placates her that she’ll be able to do so when she visits, whenever time allows. The two go on to talk in soft hushed tones as Hecate herself settles into bed for the night, falling asleep together without ending their call. 

Meanwhile, back in the Ruby corridor, two very awake and very excited witches sit in front of their mirror, whispering away to their friend. 

“Come on, Izzy! Think of it! Addy is going to be at Pentangle’s most of the time. And we’re going to be here. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just open our wardrobe and boom? We’re there or she’s here.” 

The redhead purses her lips in thought. The Addy in questions has hope in her eyes as she holds up the spell they can do to essentially make a portal connecting the two rooms. It’s restricted use of magic but it would be nice to visit whenever they wanted. “Okay, fine! What do we do?” 

So, they set to work. Addy lists off the ingredients and directions while Azura mixes them together. Izzy then takes the combination of ingredients and crawls into the wardrobe. 

“We should put in a clause! That no other people here or at Pentangle’s can find the door.” 

“Especially, HB.” 

“Oh yeah, she’d go bats.” 

So, they add a few lines to the spell and with slightly shaky hands, Izzy closes her eyes and begins the spell. Her hands trace the back panel of the closet and then she knocks three times. All three girls wait and wait and wait, confused until the light pulls at the edge and a new door forms. 

“It worked! We did it!” Azura whisper-squeals before crawling through the new door.

Hecate wakes slowly as her alarm charm tings to life at 6 AM. With eyes still closed she lifts a hand to silence the charm, breathing deeply and stretching like a cat, back arched and limbs straight. And suddenly there is a set of arms and legs, warm and secure around her own body. Her eyes shoot open. She stiffens. She wants to panic immediately. A voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like a certain blonde tells her to Breathe, Hecate. Assess. Her gaze looks down to the hands now around her middle. Pink nails, tanned arms. Pippa? 

“Pippa?” She questions out loud, voice still raspy from sleep. And then she turns as gently as she can. It doesn’t stop her from startling the blonde, whose hazel eyes fly open as she lets out a high-pitched squeak. 

“Hiccup?!” The blonde puts a bit of space between them, chest heaving as she stares at her. “What are you doing in my bed?” 

“Your bed? Pippa, you are in my bedroom.” 

Pippa looks around, gathering her bearings, surprised that she is in fact not in her own bed, or even her own room. So many of her things, however, are perfectly placed. Her soft pink silk pillows differ greatly with Hecate’s deep burgundy duvet. Her creme bedside chair had made it to the room. Her favorite blanket and the plush donut Hecate won at the All Hallows’ Eve festival the year before sits on said chair. Her jewelry box and makeup reside on Hecate’s otherwise bare vanity. It’s as if she’s moved in overnight. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Neither. Do. I.” Hecate’s brows are furrowed as she looks around. “But we’re going to find out.” 

With that, Hecate throws on her leather robe. She pauses briefly to hand Pippa one of her others, opening the wardrobe to find it clustered with bright sky blues and soft pinks. Light washed jeans that increase to pairs of black leather are neatly hung. There’s pumps and sneakers and flip flops in just about every color. It’s as if her wardrobe has been split right down the middle, the two sides now contrasting so vibrantly. One being a rainbow of color and the other darker and subdued. Hecate’s eyes almost bulge out of her head, but Pippa silently places a hand on her shoulder as she reaches for her own robe in the wardrobe. 

As a habit, Pippa slips her fingers between Hecate’s and all but drags her from the bedroom. The living space is even more spliced than the bedroom with the large windows from Pentangles’ front and center letting in the bit of sunlight that has already started to peak through the morning clouds. It stops them both in their tracks, but Hecate quickly recovers. They don’t have time to dwell on just how strange this is. They have to figure out what’s going on and fast. 

They twist and turn through the castle until they reach an equally distraught Ada, who is attempting to calm a fuming Miss Tapioca, whose kitchen is now cluttered with items from the other school and arranged differently. Hecate and Pippa cautiously approach when the familiar faced teachers arrive. Dimity rounds the corner with Abigail, Pentangle’s fitness witch. Peter and Christopher, the flying instructor and librarian, arrive with Theodore Daisy and Lavinia Crotchet, Cackle's new chanting instructor. Soon the entirety of both staffs are ushered into the Teacher’s lounge, which unsurprisingly has also been combined with the one at Pentangle’s. 

“Did anyone cast any renovation spells recently, any chants?” Ada asks when Hecate finally gets the room to quiet. 

All the teachers shake their heads in unison. 

"No, a staff member didn't do this.” Hecate says, eyes squinted in thought. “A student did. The magic, while definitely strong is highly simple and misguided." "Well then," Ada starts, "we need to find the stu-" 

An eruption of chatter and a knock at the office door stops the headmistress in her tracks. Hecate flicks her wrist to reveal Mildred with the rest of the sixth years behind her. Surely the other young witches are not far away. 

"Miss Cackle," Mildred stumbles inside, eyes wide and confused. "I woke up early because I just know we're going to have a pop quiz in advanced myths and legends, and I got out of bed and Melinda Merriweather from Pentangle's was in my room! And her things. Her bed, her posters, her clothing. Everything." 

"Mildred Hubble," Hecate begins. The girl starts to say something, but the witch holds up her hand. "All students are to report to the field. Pentangle's and Cackle's, organized by year and name." 

Mildred's mouth drops open, but she simply nods instead of rebutting. Perhaps she has learned something in her two years as head girl. Ever the lead, Mildred turns around and addresses her fellow classmates and the girls shuffle outside. It's loud and the lines will definitely not be neat, but Hecate has at least bought the two staffs a bit of time to devise a solution. 

"So, the whole school has been, what? Merged?" Pippa asks. 

"It would seem so." Hecate flexes her fingers in thought. "We'll have to do a thorough inspection, but with the amount of merging that seems to have happened it might take weeks to undo." 

Dimity, who had been watching the girls file out to the field, adds, "It could take months." 

The entire room stops. Eyes searching eyes for some type of hope that it doesn't take months to restore order. 

"Well," Ada tries to smile, "Let's hope that's not the case. Now, let’s quickly find a solution for today. Those students can’t stand outside forever.” 

It takes all of five minutes for the headmistresses and deputies to quickly form a plan. The students will be given a free day of no classes while the staff members catalogue the damage done, that is after they find the perpetrators. Then they’ll decide how to best proceed in educating their students. They are, after all, witching (and wizarding) academies first. 

With a plan for the witches and wizards, the teachers file outside after casting freshening spells and changing their clothes. Pippa and her deputy address the Pentangle’s students and let them in on the details of what’s happening. Hecate, though, immediately turns on her strict and scary facade (though she’s quite pleased at how well the girls have followed direction. She wants to praise them, but now is not the time). 

"Mildred Hubble?” She stands in front of the girl, brow raised. 

“It wasn’t me, Miss Hardbroom. I promise! I haven’t caused any trouble in months. Promise!” 

Hecate squints her eyes at the teenager. The deputy head scans the lines of girls, eyes blazing. Some cower, some look utterly bored. She turns to the next trio of suspicion. Beatrice, Sybil, and Clarice all shake their heads when her eyes land on them. No, not them. Hecate lifts her head, sniffing the wind as a lioness to her prey. Her feet lead her to where the third years have lined up. Head tilted; she walks the line. Walks and walks until she stops right in front of the exact girls, bending down slowly to meet them eye to eye. 

“Azura Moon and Isabella Jones.” 

“We’re sorry, Miss Hardbroom.” The young redhead blurts out immediately. For once, Azura, the perpetually cheerful girl, looks positively stricken with fear. “We didn’t mean to merge the booth schools. Just our doors. Like Narnia.” 

“We just wanted to see Addy.” Azura interjects. 

The girls talk in tandem, explaining their reasoning. Adelaide cautiously takes her place by the girls, with Pippa in tow. All the while Hecate grows more and more red, her back straightening to her tallest height. 

“Silence!” She hisses as her eyes blaze into the three very shocked, very scared third years. Had this been another time, perhaps a few years ago, Hecate thinks she would simply snap. Instead, she lets the steam shoot from her ears and lets out a stiff breath. Pippa’s doing. With clipped words and fire still in her eyes, she continues. “Azura Moon. Isabella Jones. And Adelaide Peppercorn. You three will have detention every day until this is fixed.” 

Azura opens her mouth to speak but thinks differently when Miss Hardbroom’s piercing cold eyes snap to her. “Get ready for the day. Breakfast will be served early, and every student must return to their newly merged room until Headmistress Cackle and Headmistress Pentangle formulate a solution. No student will be caught outside of their room without permission lest they want to join these three in detention.” 

And with that, the Cackle’s witches were dismissed, shuffling away with the softest whispers. Pippa then dismisses the Pentangle’s students, who follow the others inside. 

“Well, I suppose we should join the students for breakfast and then take inventory of the damage.” Ada says. 

Breakfast is.... a struggle to say the least, but they manage it well enough. Miss Tapioca and Miss Cassava have their spats resulting in a mix of a meal. There’s a mix of cold oats and bright fruits. None of the dishes match, which Miss Tapioca scowls at in disgust. The now enlarged Great Hall luckily added the necessary tables and even extended the teacher’s table to sit everyone, so they’re not strapped for space. The hall is buzzing with chatter as some of the young teens fawn over being with their friends, others over the wizards they’ll be sharing space with for the foreseeable future with. (A message will have to be sent out to the parents. There will definitely be quite a few upset families). Hecate has half a mind to punish everyone and make the students eat separately and in total silence but her own thoughts of how to separate the two schools overtake disciplining at the moment. 

After breakfast, the students are all sent to their rooms and the staff begins their inspection. Most of the classrooms are heavily bound together. The bedrooms too. The only rooms that can realistically be separated sooner rather than later surprisingly seem to be the storage rooms. Everything else will take at least a week, some more. Even some wards from Pentangle’s have replicated themselves at Cackle’s, making some of their own unstable. It’ll take well over a week to reverse those. 

The stress of the situation radiates off the blonde, but she gives Hecate no chance to comfort her, choosing instead to fully delve into the title of headmistress. But Hecate knows it’s clawing at her to see her school not be her school. Pippa and her deputy depart soon after a plan is made to begin the separation to check on the Pentangle’s location. In the meantime, Hecate busies herself with potions needed to fix the wards. 

Pippa rings about two hours later and to the untrained eye she looks reasonably and understandably stressed. But Hecate notices the red that rims her eyes, the way her mouth is down turned. There’s a brittleness to her voice. She knows Pippa won’t let it show (she never does) but the blonde is positively devastated.  

“At least the young wizards’ rooms aren’t combined with the girls. It’ll be easy to get them back to Pentangle’s when the time comes.” Pippa attempts to find some silver lining of this situation before she informs them that they’re headed back. The subtle wobble in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed to Hecate. Had she had the time, she’d call her privately, let her cry and rant and feel. Instead, she has three third years in detention to attend to. 

Azura, Isabella, and Adelaide arrive to the potions’ lab five minutes before Hecate. They’re seated at the cauldrons, with guilty faces. The dark witch materializes at her desk in the middle of the room, the palms of her hands planted on the spokes of her chair. 

“Open your witches’ code.” She speaks lowly. Knowing this punishment will last at least a week, she’ll start their disciplining simple enough. For every code they broke, the girls will write and rewrite and rewrite line after line until it’s memorized. Then she’ll figure some other punishment, perhaps a particularly challenging potion. Either way, she’s certain they’ll never use magic so recklessly again. 

When she returns to her rooms after detention and bedtime rounds, Hecate is both shocked and pleased to see Pippa already there. But her heart immediately breaks when she sees her sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring off into space as if she’s lost in thought. 

“Pippa?” 

The blonde turns to her, tears hanging just off the edge of her eyes. Though the room isn’t very large, Hecate transfers right to Pippa, pulling her against her chest. Pippa’s breath shudders. No tears fall, Pippa’s holding back the urge to fully sob. Hecate holds her tighter when she feels her press her nose to her neck, puffs of air hot against it. Pippa’s body shakes and shudders but she never lets the tears come, something worries Hecate immensely. 

“Pippa,” Hecate tries again. She receives a small shake of her head, so they sit there silently until Pippa mumbles that she’s ready to go to bed. 

The next morning Pippa is as bright as she can be, refusing to talk about the situation outside of what needs to be done. For the rest of the week, the two schools attempt to find some sort of common ground. For the most part, they can continue as they normally would. Some classes have been combined. Dimity and Abigail have a blast sharing exercises for the students while Lavinia and Pippa mesh together traditional and modern chants. Others are left as they were before, something that relieves a bit of Hecate’s stress as she doesn’t have to share her classroom or curriculum. They continue on and slowly, day by day, something gets undone and returned back to its proper place. 

...

Wednesday morning breakfast announcements the next week begin with a chiming of bells. Cackle’s is full of life in a way it has never been before. Students in purple vests file in next to witches in grey dresses, chatting a mile a minute even at the early hour as they pile oats and fruit into their bowls. The setup of the great hall is awkward and a bit too crowded, but surprisingly it’s been an easy adjustment. The easiest parts of Pentangle’s have been returned to their proper place. Spells and potions have been brewed for the corners. The two schools have only been joined for six days, but they’re working like a semi well-oiled machine. Each morning Ada or Pippa announce what part of the school has been returned and an estimate of their time remaining. It’s not much of one as they try to keep hope alive but not too high. Only a few of the students have been caught sneaking out to the wizards’ corridors and vice versa, joining Azura, Isabella and Adelaide in detention. 

Pippa is just finishing her announcements when someone from the crowd interjects, “But, Miss Pentangle, what about movie night?” 

“It was supposed to be this Friday,” another little wizard steps forward to say. 

“Oh,” Pippa starts, stumbling in surprise. “Well, I suppose we will just have to postpone the movie night until we return to Pentangle’s.” 

Every single wizard and witch from the modern academy groans in disappointment. It radiates throughout the room as the Cackles’ girls’ mouth “movie night?” at each other. 

“I know you all were looking forward to it, but good witches and wizards always look for the bright prospect in gloomy situations. A postponement is not a cancellation.” Pippa reminds them. That gets them nodding and some even try to convince their friends that it’s alright, but the atmosphere in the great hall is discontented and unhappy as students file off to classes for the day. 

Hecate transfers directly to the potions’ laboratory when breakfast ends, checking the supplies. Between practically doubling the amount of ingredients used in class for both schools and the amount necessary for the separation, each ingredient must be heavily inspected and accounted for. Her back is turned to the young first year witches who dutifully take their places at their cauldrons when she overhears one mention how unfortunate it is that Pentangle’s can’t have their movie night. Another agrees in a soft whisper. What causes her ears to perk is when one of her students mentions Pippa and how the headmistress seemed just as disappointed as her students. Normally, she wouldn’t give such gossip a second thought, but she can’t help but question how Pippa is feeling after having to console her more than once. 

And they’re right. Pippa has been off kilter since announcing the postponing of their school wide movie night. Hecate definitely remembers the blonde gushing about how fantastical it would be a few weeks ago. They had been on a mirror call and the blonde had gone on and on about popped corn and fizzy drinks and a movie or two projected outside, under the stars. 

Hecate enters Pippa’s office after detention, tapping on the open door. 

“Pippa, you need to rest.” 

Unbeknownst to many people, Pippa is a worrier. She’d like to be known as the put together, awe inspiring super witch many have made her out to be, but the truth is she stresses more than she would ever let on. She had worried herself sick when applying for Weirdsister’s. Every competition, every presentation, every speech she’s ever had to give has been rewritten, rehearsed, and regurgitated to perfection. Because she is Perfect Pippa and right now Perfect Pippa’s perfect academy is a jumbled mess.

“My school, Hiccup,” her eyes water just as they did the first night. This time, though, they streak down her face, the dam finally broken. 

The brunette kneels at Pippa’s feet, taking her hands in her own. “Your school isn’t a building, Pipsqueak. You know that.” 

The blonde nods, “I know.” 

“And you know you’re doing the best you can to still adequately provide for every student and faculty member.” She goes on to say. Pippa nods again. “It’s not just you who has to fix this and it’s not your fault.” 

Pippa sighs and presses a hand to a pale cheek. “Between waking up here and seeing Pentangle’s empty, like a dismembered puzzle and just having to figure things out I...” she trails off, a lump in her throat and tears welling up once more.

Hecate raises up to grab a few of the light pink tissues in the desk. She brushes away tears that threaten to drip down Pippa’s chin and hands the blonde a couple more. “It’s alright. You can’t let yourself take on all of the responsibility, Pippa.” 

Then she smiles. It’s watery and sad, but Pippa smiles and Hecate thinks perhaps it’s the first time she’s seen a true one in days. “When did you become the sensible one?” 

Hecate scoffs, “I always have been.” And with that, she presses the smallest and sweetest kiss to the hand that is still clutched in her own. The one against her cheek guides her forward for a real kiss. The dark witch finally convinces Pippa to leave her office, to return to their room and rest just a bit. They sit in silence, curled together on the couch before Hecate must take her leave to ensure every witch and wizard are in bed. 

During her nightly rounds, Hecate takes the stairs to the old but still familiar room in the tower. She silently greets the bats that hover outside before transferring into the room unannounced. 

“Mildred Hubble,” Hecate begins, startling the girl who had been studying. “I require your assistance. Report to the potions’ lab after classes tomorrow.” She raises her hand to transfer away but she pauses. “And do bring Miss Spellbody, Miss Hallow and Miss Foxglove.” Then she’s gone, leaving a stunned Mildred, mouth in a small “O”. 

The next afternoon, after classes have finished for the day, Mildred finds herself leading Maud, Ethel, and Felicity down the corridors of Cacktangle’s. She already feels her head throbbing after trying to convince a still skeptical Ethel that she wasn’t trying to play a prank on her. Though, she should get her back for the soap incident that may or may not have happened in the Pentangle’s pool a few days before. She puts it on her mental to-do list. (Just because they’re older and fight with each other less doesn’t mean they can’t play a few tricks every now and then). 

“And Miss Hardbroom didn’t tell you why she needed us,” Ethel asks — well, states — for the tenth time. 

“No, she just said to bring you,” she sighs, growing more and more frustrated with the blonde. 

“Weird. Miss Hardbroom always has a reason for whatever she wants,” Ethel mutters to herself. “Are you sure?” 

“Ethel! Why would I lie about Miss Hardbroom needing us?” Mildred tries her hardest not to shout as she pushes open the door to reveal a potions’ lab littered with small bags for popcorn and candy and sugary drinks. Isabella is cutting red and yellow card stock while Azura twines on little twist-ties around baggies filled with lollipops and bubble gum. In another corner, Adelaide is taking inventory of the beverages. Hecate is in the back of the lab, finger pointed as she checks off item after item on a piece of paper, and she looks up when she hears the girls gasp in shock. 

Without wasting a second, Hecate puts Felicity on movie duty, her maglet instantly unlocked as she tracks down the topmost popular movies and activities for the uninterested. Ethel, having just mastered a penmanship spell, is set to work on signs and labels. Maud and Mildred are sent to round up any and every spare blanket, comforter, and pillow for their guests. 

Detention (or extra tutoring as most consider it but would never let Hecate know) normally lasts an hour. When Hecate had gone to dismiss the girls, saying they’d rather help, she’s shocked that they refused and continued going on. They continue for another two hours until they’re finished. It’s a gesture she’s not sure she’s really received from anyone outside of Pippa, Ada and the Cackle’s staff, this extra voluntary assistance. Hecate definitely isn’t one to ask for help outright. So, they stay until it’s time to ready for bed. The potions’ teacher shuffles the girls, who are both exhausted and buzzing with excitement, off to their rooms. 

Hecate is just about to transfer away when Azura calls her name. The instant she turns, head high and brows raised in question, she’s enveloped in that familiar hug again. 

When the girl pulls away, she sports a sleepy smile after she yawns into her elbow. “It’s really cool of you to give the Pentangle's students their movie night.” She giggles at the pinched expression on Hecate’s face before skipping back into her room with a soft but cheery “Good night, Miss Hardbroom.” 

Breakfast on Friday morning is quiet, none of the Pentangle’s students are very talkative. They're all still upset of their postponed movie night. There had been talk that there would still be one as most were skeptical of Felicity and her inquiries the day before but since word hadn’t come from any of the teachers, the students shrugged it off as Felicity simply being an aspiring journalist. Had she not been so utterly exhausted the night before; Hecate would have told Pippa and they would have had an announcement at the ready. Instead, she had showered and brushed out her hair before slipping into the warmth of the bed that's only been increased by the presence of an extra body. She still has some last minute preparations to do before the first class begins (and to tell Ada -- something she had neglected to do in her haste) so instead she'll just have to announce the movie night at lunch. 

The time rolls around and she stands from the teacher's table and walks to the front, following slightly behind Ada. Pippa had been obviously confused when she had walked away with an almost ominous smile. Everyone grows silent and suddenly Hecate is transported to the countless amounts of times she had been forced to speak in front of her peers. Her palms sweat. The unnoticeable tendrils of hair that have fallen from her bun tickle at her neck. But like then, she looks out to the crowd and finds confused hazel eyes waiting for hers and she breathes easier. 

Ada starts with a sweet “Good morning, everyone” and then launches into a reminder that Pentangle’s magical maze is still off limits as it continues to change every hour instead of every Friday, making it very easy for any and everyone to get lost. She then turns to Hecate for their special announcement. 

She sniffs, tilting her head upward, “All students will be excused from their final periods in order to prepare for,” Hecate pauses for effect. “Special cinematic viewings of select entertainment beginning at 6 pm.” 

There’s chatter instantly which Hecate lets go on as she steps down from the stage and back over to the teachers’ table. 

“Hecate, did you?” Pippa starts to say. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

“You did!” The blonde’s eyes brighten and glaze over slightly. She drops her voice. “That’s why you were working late last night. Oh, Hecate you didn’t have to.” 

With shoulders high and a smile, she tries not to let show, Hecate says “Yes, well...” 

There’s absolute hearts in Pippa’s eyes. She leans closer to Hecate who tries her hardest to keep a neutral expression when she says, “Remind me to kiss you silly later.”

The school vibrates with energy after lunch. While most of the Pentangles students are out for the day (Hecate still finds Pippa’s insistence of having four day weeks strange) the halls are cluttered, and excitement is in the air. Cackle’s has never had a movie night. Hecate can recall previous students mention is once or twice, but she’s sure she had always turned down the idea with a stern look and a hissing denial.

Now, however, she’s sitting on a blush pink plush quilt on the grass as the sun sets, behind over one hundred students, waiting for the blonde to return from the makeshift concessions. Pippa had known she’d want a bit of their privacy and picked a near perfect spot. The nearest students happen to be Mildred and company and even they are well out of earshot. Dimity and Abigail are to the other side, though they’re a bit less covered in shadows. 

There were supposed to be only two movies shown before curfew began, but Hecate had been convinced by more than one student and staff member for just one more. She folded. It’s not like she’d be watching it anyway. She had already sat through two supposed classics, one being about a group of teen witches dabbling in dark magic with no thought of the repercussions and thus reaping what they sow. When the second movie had ended she turned to a very comfortable Pippa, who had been laying against her side at the back of the audience and asked if she could transfer them. Now they’re taking the final stairs to the top of a quiet tower. 

“What will the students think?”  

Hecate rolls her eyes at the playful tone, “I am a very powerful witch, Pippa. The students wouldn’t dare say anything to me. They’d have to be worried for an entirely different reason.” 

“Oh? You would finally pretend to be the big, bad potions’ mistress you aspire to be?” 

They exit the door to the tower, high up with the stars when Hecate pulls Pippa to her, nose to nose. “I do not pretend. I am all that you say and more.” She takes Pippa’s breath away, who melts against her embrace. Pippa wouldn’t have even looked away had it not been for Hecate’s own urging her to look around. Red candles outline the group of fluffy pillows, a darker burgundy blanket and darker plush blankets are scattered around for when the wind gets to be too much. There’s wine and dessert and the twinkling stars in the night sky. Hecate twirls her hand and the soft melody of a timeless chant begins to play around them.

The couple settle against the pillows, making themselves comfortable. Hecate pulls Pippa close, one arm around her middle and the other resting on her thigh. They laugh together in hushed tones as to not give away their location. Pippa keeps her promise to kiss her girlfriend silly and Hecate almost, just almost, concedes to sleeping atop the tower for just one night Hiccup, please? They don’t, though she does let Pippa lean against her as she rests for a few precious minutes before transferring them to their shared room. ... One late afternoon, after almost three weeks of domesticated life, Hecate sits at the desk in her rooms, marking the last few fourth year quizzes feeling... different. She’s not as tired as she normally would be. She hasn’t even taken a wide awake potion in maybe a week even with the amount of magic she has expended in the separation process. Her mouth isn’t down turned in a frown at the missed questions and miscalculated math. She’s lighter, and her heart beats a little stronger, a little faster in time. Hecate realizes perhaps for the first time in a very long time that she’s more than content, she’s tranquil. 

Hecate is lost in this thought when Pippa breezes through the door with a smile and small skip, her ponytail swinging happily behind her. As always, Pippa greets a lounging Morgana and a stoic Artemis before she primly sits on Hecate’s lap in an attempt to not wrinkle her dress (though she is done for the day) with a greeting and a kiss, arms sliding around her neck. She nuzzles her nose against Hecate’s temple as the brunette returns her embrace and it’s the most natural thing Hecate thinks she’s ever done before. Because it’s become so normal. It’s second nature, like brewing a levitation potion. Pippa, not surprisingly being headmistress, works longer days than Hecate and while she has always greeted her in this manner, the hugs and kisses seem better, warmer, just right.  

She can’t have this forever, she knows. Pentangle’s is almost back to normal and then Pippa will be off again, and they’ll be distance lovers once more, meeting when they can. It tugs at Hecate’s heart that eventually she won’t wake to warm puffs of breath against her neck. That she won’t fall asleep to Pippa’s gentle snores. She won’t have to set out an extra mug for tea. The laundry will decrease, dishes too, and she’ll be left to her own devices. 

“Hecate, darling, are you alright?” Pippa voice pulls Hecate out of her thoughts. 

The brunette nods her head. “Just thinking.” 

Pippa hums softly, “About what?”  

Could she be completely and totally honest? Why not? It’s Pippa. She’s Pippa’s girlfriend (though she abhors the word) and who else could she be honest with.  

“I’ll miss this.” 

Pippa softens, holds her a little closer. She readjusts on Hecate’s lap, soft smile on her lips. “I’ll miss it too, darling. So, we should enjoy it while we can.” … Ada and Hecate had been sitting in the headmistress’s office the next day, chatting numbers over tea when there’s a knock at the door. Hecate stands and flicks the door open to reveal Adelaide, Azura, and Isabella with Mildred behind them. The older girl gently nudges them forward and when they give her an apprehensive look at Mildred, she just gives them a more confident one back. Hecate raises a questioning brow, noticing how the younger girls shift from foot to foot, fingers twirling around their sashes. 

Azura steels herself and turns to Ada and Hecate with her head high. “Izzy, Addy and I want to lead a project to properly sendoff everyone from Pentangle’s.” “And to apologize again for the mess we caused.” Isabella adds while Adelaide nods her head in agreement. 

Mildred steps in, “They’ve got a plan for music and food and decorations.” She pushes Adelaide forward. The younger girl shuffles to Ada and Hecate, waving her hand to produce a booklet of plans only three fourteen year olds could produce. 

She and Ada look over it. It’s not a horrible itinerary, some things will have to be changed and adjusted for practical reasons but for the most part it’s doable. Hecate has to stop herself from giving them too positive a reaction. They can’t know she’s proud. Not yet at least. 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Miss Cackle sweetly smiles at them. The girls brighten instantly, looking to each other as if they had had their fingers crossed in hope. 

And thus, begins the preparation for a farewell dance. Like preparing for the movie night the previous week, Mildred, Maud, Ethel, and Felicity join Hecate and the girls during detention to assist. There’s decorations prepared and stored away, menus to give to Miss Tapioca and Miss Cassava, and posters and fliers to hang up though Felicity’s post on her blog will no doubt spread the news fast enough. (In fact, the girl had known about it before Mildred even asked if she wanted to help. Hecate still doesn’t know how she does it.) 

Instead of transferring to her room when she and the girls had finished, she finds herself tapping on Pippa’s still present and ever open office door. For some reason, Pippa’s office has been one of the most difficult places to return to Pentangles, coming second to the ever changing maze. The pink witch looks up above her equally pink reading glasses and instantly smiles. 

“I’ve almost finished this last page. I promise, darling.” 

Hecate takes her place in the chair across from the desk, a flippant hand waving away the promise. “No need to rush.” 

They exchange a brief gaze before Pippa silently returns to whatever paper she was reading. One minute passes. And then another. And then another. Hecate has to stop herself from tapping her foot as the minutes tick by. Her eyes study Pippa. The way her lip is caught between her teeth, her nose scrunched ever so slightly as if something doesn’t make sense. Earlier her hair had been pinned up into a low chignon bun at the nape of her neck. She must have taken it down when classes had ended as it’s now in a slightly higher ponytail. Her matching jacket hangs on the back of her chair. 

The brunette is still studying her when Pippa looks up and finally removes her glasses, fingers already pressed to the bridge of her nose. 

“There’ll be a farewell dance at the end of the week,” Hecate bluntly states. 

“Yes, I heard! It’s supposed to be a fabulous event, you know.” The lift in her voice lets Hecate know the woman’s being playful. 

The brunette hums as she leans forward, fingers tapping against the quartz paperweight on the desk. “Indeed, it is. Of course, as headmistress and deputy of our two academies we’ll be expected to attend.” 

“Hecate Hardbroom, are you asking me to be your date to the farewell dance?” Pippa bats her lashes and props her head against her hand, a silly but pleased smile playing on her lips. 

“I was attempting to be modest, Pippa. Perhaps some sly wizard got to you first” she jokingly says with a roll of her eyes but then looks expectantly at her. 

“And I would turn down each one for you.” Finally, the blonde stands from her desk, smile still perfectly in place as she reaches for Hecate with one hand and flicks the door closed and shut with the other. “I’m done here, transfer us, darling?” 

“With pleasure.” ... The night of the Farewell celebration, Hecate is a ball of nerves and she can’t really say why. Sure, Pentangle’s and Cackles have been perfectly separated. There’s spare rooms still in place for everyone to sleep in for the night but otherwise they’ll return to normalcy in the morning. She should be happy, and a part of her is. But another dreads the silence that will come when they’re officially two separate schools again. She doesn’t think Cackle’s should be coed but teaching young wizards had been a pleasure she hadn’t expected. The food might lose its flare. The halls will be less congested. There’ll be no Pippa. That really grates at her nerves as they silently ready to the sounds of Pippa’s modern chanting records. 

“Zip me?” Pippa asks, already turning her back to Hecate who silently slides the zipper up and up and up. 

“You look beautiful, Pippa.” 

The blonde smiles brilliantly as she puts the back on her earring, turning to Hecate. “As do you, darling.” At the risk of ruining both of their lipsticks, she presses a light kiss to her lips. “Now, let’s go before we’re late.” 

“We could just not go.” 

“Hecate,” Pippa almost scolds. 

The brunette rolls her eyes as she smirks. “Fine, fine.” And they take their leave, twisting and turning down corridors that no longer have large modern windows to the great hall. 

The room sparkles with warm yellow lights. Students are already dancing to whatever pumping beat is playing. Hecate immediately shifts into chaperone mode, finding a place on the wall that she can see the entirety of the room. Ada joins her for a moment while Pippa goes off to mingle with the students and staff, but for the most part she’s alone as she listens and watches, scanning the room for sneaky young witches and wizards. Azura, Adelaide, and Isabella stop to bring her cookies they know she won’t eat but are really hoping she does. She nibbles at one of the plainer ones as she spies Mildred on the dance floor, her movements still as clumsy as they had been years ago. 

The night goes on and some begin to take their leave when Hecate finally moves from her spot, transferring across the room. 

“Dance with me?” Hecate asks as she appears next to Pippa. The blonde doesn’t flinch like she used to when the brunette would unexpectedly transfer next to her, Hecate notices with a quirk of her lip. 

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask me that,” the blonde beams, hand reaching for Hecate’s before leading her out to the dance floor. 

A Hecate before would have never put herself on such display, a thought that is ridiculous to her now. She loves dancing, has always loved twirling and stepping around a dance floor, her dress flaring at her ankles. But for years she prevented herself from being the center of attention, hating the eyes on her. With Pippa, dancing is even better. She holds and is held closer, tighter. Their steps are synchronized to perfection. They’re cheek to cheek and the students and staff fade to the far distance of her mind leaving just her and her Pippa. 

“Marry me?” Hecate asks softly in Pippa’s ear. It’s not exactly how Hecate pictured she’d propose, without the roses and the low light and the ambiance. Perhaps she should have done it the week before when they were alone atop the tower. 

Pippa is speechless. Absolutely and fantastically speechless. But also, she isn’t. She has been waiting for this day since who knows when. She has been hoping that would happen sooner rather than later. Perhaps sooner rather than later meant well over thirty years. They’re standing still when she looks into Hecate’s eyes and she pulls them away. Away from young ears and the gazes that don’t even know the question asked. Pippa drags her away until they’re alone and she can breathe and make sure this is real. “You don’t think we’re moving too fast? I mean, we’ve only been together for-“ 

“One year, six months, two weeks, four days, five hours and,” Hecate takes the moment to open the time piece hanging from her neck. “Twenty six minutes.” Pippa, as stunned as ever, asks through a small chuckle, “Why do you know that?” 

The brunette shrugs as if everyone knows exactly when they made things official, fair skin deepening to a full blush. “I’d tell you the seconds but I’m sure I stopped breathing when you said yes the first time.” 

Pippa loses her own breath. Curse Hecate and her way with words. She doesn’t think she can breathe without this dark-haired, even darker eyed beauty. So, she kisses her. Pippa kisses Hecate until they are both gasping and out of breath. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you.” 

The brunette grins, beams. And they kiss. And something about this feels like a next step. Something about this feels final. Something about this feels right. Like forever.

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021: Rise With The Sun

Day Two: “Mmm, your kid before five in the morning.“ + parenthood 

Read on Ao3 

It had taken months to get their precious bundle of joy to sleep through the night. Chim would read stories of watermelon men and little brothers playing with their older sisters, his soothing voice an aid to get her to calm enough for her brown doe eyes to flutter closed. Maddie would sing soothing lullabies until their little girl drifted off to sleep, only for her to awake two or three hours later crying for milk or simply entertainment from her doting parents. Like most newborns, Claudia Joyce had deprived her parents of sleep night after night for months until one day she began sleeping soundly for a solid eight hours. It had been exhausting in the best possible way and they wouldn’t have it any other way because she’s the most precious gift they could ever want or ask for.

Then she turned three and suddenly the little girl rose with the sun. No, more like she rose just before the sun as though she had an internal clock that woke her up. Nothing could keep her asleep past five in the morning. She’d wake and find a way to crawl out of her bed and toddle her way to her parent’s bedroom, blanket and bunny in hand. Most days, she just wanted to cuddle, and they’d return to their peaceful sleep for a few more hours. Other times, the ever energetic three year old would encourage her parents to wake up and make her breakfast and entertain her (and subsequently her baby brother), which they would still be happy to oblige albeit after a cup or two of coffee.

At four, Claudia learned that Christmas meant presents and presents meant shiny new toys and even prettier new clothes. For an entire week she’d awake before the sun even rose high enough in the sky to illuminate the earth, screaming Merry Christmas to all that would hear her. Now, CJ was accompanied by her little brother, who, at a little over one year old, looked to her as if she were the sun and moon and everything in between. Of course, Carsen didn’t understand but he followed along with her excitement just the same.

Just after Claudia turned five she started daycare and her excitement was palpable. Claudia had talked nonstop about all the friends she would meet, about how she had to be very careful about the two toys she was allowed the bring to daycare with her because it would determine who she would be friends with and who would have to try again another day. When the actual day arrived, the five year old woke up at precisely 4:30 AM and dressed in the tackiest, most colorful outfit that Maddie couldn’t even be annoyed at being awoken at such an absurd hour. She was promptly changed back into her pajamas and encouraged to go back to sleep for a little longer.

Now, the day of her sixth birthday, she’s bubbling with excitement that she just has to share with her parents and her still sleeping little brother. As quietly as she can muster, Claudia springs out of her bed and down the hall to her brother’s room, who’s quietly awake with a blanket of his own clutched between his tiny fist. Every morning Carsen waits for his sister to help him out of his bed and together they make their way to their parent’s bedroom.  

The party isn’t until one in the afternoon, but as always, the excitable ball of pure joy bounds into their bedroom, bright-eyed and bushytailed as she sings, “Good morning Mommy! Good morning, Daddy! It’s party time.”

Chimney groans, waking in an instant.

“Mmm,” Maddie lets out a sigh of her own as she burrows a bit further into the duvet and her pillow. “Your kids before five in the morning.”

“Daddy!” CJ immediately climbs onto her father’s back, laying on him while her brother choses instead to sleepily find his way into his mother’s still warm embrace.

“Must you wake up before the sun, little bug?” Chimney huffs again, feeling her tiny fingers poke at his still closed eyelids. She giggles in response, shuffling between him and Maddie.

“We’re gonna be late!” their daughter whines, though there’s still a good seven hours until the party even begins.

Chimney finally opens his eyes, staring into bright ones that look just like his. He softens, arms wrapping around his daughter. “How about we make a deal? Give mommy and daddy,” he gazes at the clock on the nightstand to check the time. “three more hours and then we can get up and get ready for the party.”

The little girl blows her bangs out of her eyes, her face scrunching comically in thought. He looks expectantly at her, silently hoping she’ll agree because he really doesn’t want to be up earlier than necessary (it’s going to be a long day, after all).

Then she gives him that bright, sweet smile and says “Okay, Daddy,” and shuffles under the covers to join her mother and brother back into dreamland.

[artsoupsoupart]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Characters: Hardbroom (Worst Witch), Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Additional Tags: Hicsqueak, Bedsharing, lil bit of romance
Summary: A group of students at Pentangle’s pull some pranks causing the entire school to seek refuge at Cackle’s for the weekend. Pippa and Hecate find somewhere for Pippa to sleep. ~~
Quick little one shot bc that’s all I know how to write lol based off @blackdistractionart‘s piece: https://blackdistractionart.tumblr.com/post/169722604789/i-dont-know-how-you-can-sleep-pipsqueak-i-feel

[artsoupsoupart]

A Hicsqueak Ficlet: As Dew Settles

Summary: A lazy, loving morning between lovers. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521469 

Pippa’s favorite way to wake up is to the soft sounds of morning birds welcoming the sun, which is barely peeking up behind the horizon, wrapped in the arms of her love, nose pressed against tangled tresses that smell of lavender and cedarwood. Hazel eyes blink open, a wall of dark hair obscures her sight, but she can still make out the early beginnings of the day. She’s overly warm but perfectly comfortable. She had fallen asleep with Hecate’s back against her front and they seem to have stayed that way through the night. The little puffs of air against the crook of her arm are a sweet comfort to the slightly sweaty press of her hand to smooth skin. When her hand had made its way under Hecate’s sleep shirt, she did not know.

Pippa always wakes before Hecate. During the school year, she woke to get them breakfast. No matter if they were at Cackle’s or Pentangle’s, the two would eat together and then, if it wasn’t the weekend and they had indulged in being together on a school night, they would part ways with a hug and kiss that lasted longer that they should allow, still unwillingly to part for any period of time even after so many years. In the winter, she’d wake to light a fire, knowing how much the brunette detested the chill of the season which is only emphasized by the drafts of the castles. Though, when they went on winter breaks, Pippa still liked the heat of the fire at their holiday home.

It’s where they are now, with one week left of their summer vacation. The summer wind cools the room through the open windows. They both preferred when the sweet scent of wildflowers by the small home filtered inside. The night chill will eventually fade into a mild heat and they’ll be forced to part to prevent their impending sweat from making their cuddling uncomfortable. For now, though, Pippa relishes in their closeness, would draw her girlfriend closer to her if it didn’t threaten to wake her from her peaceful sleep. She wishes she were turned the other way, that they were face-to-face so she could gaze upon features she’s loved since they were children.

The tails of sleep cling to Pippa and just as she thinks she’ll close her eyes and return to dream land she feels Hecate’s breath stutter slightly as she wakes. The brunette presses her cheek to Pippa’s bicep and mutters something about it being too early, and the blonde just knows she’s fighting off wakefulness. Pippa finally shifts, brings Hecate closer as she places a kiss to her cheek. Hecate smiles that sleepy smile that melts her heart. It’s one that’s so at peace with the world and she’s sure she’s the only one who gets to see it.

“Good morning, darling,” she whispers into the air, receiving a hum in return. Hecate turns in her arms, still riddled with sleep, and presses her face into the crook of Pippa’s neck. She kisses it once, twice, and then three times before settling again. “Is that what today is going to be, Hiccup? Have a lazy day?”

The brunette hums again, “I like that idea.”

Pippa pulls back so that their eye to eye, heart almost bursting in her chest. “I love the way you look in the morning light.”

The words fall from her lips before she even registers that she thought them. Sharp cheeks tinge scarlet and Hecate attempts to look away, to break the gaze not because she doesn’t believe Pippa’s words but instead because she knows they’re true and it’s a lot to handle even after years of being together. Pippa catches her chin and hopes she pours all the love she can muster into her eyes. The brunette knows not what to say so she presses her lips softly to Pippa’s, a mere sleepy caress of lips that’s somehow just as filled with love as any other.  

With a clearing of her throat, Hecate whispers in the millimeter of space between them, “A look from you is oxygen.”

Pippa gasps. Hecate has always been quiet poetic in the words she chooses, has always taken the time to scour that beautiful mind of hers to find just the right thing to say. Pippa knows it’s something that bothers her, that she can’t just speak off the top of her head, but Pippa loves it. Loves that the brunette is methodical in everything she does. She loves her and wastes no time telling her with her own words and her own kisses and her own body cuddling closer to Hecate.

It takes another twenty minutes for the couple to extract themselves from the bed. Breakfast is light and relatively quiet. Normally they would eat across from each other, however, this morning Hecate feels a bit more affectionate than usual and chooses the chair next to Pippa’s, her hand securely placed low on the inside on her thigh. While there’s a certain heat there that always accompanies Hecate’s touch, there are fluttering butterflies in the pit of Pippa’s stomach that have her blushing and leaning her head against a relatively sharp shoulder.

With their meal finished and dishes washed, Pippa suggest that their lazy day officially begin with a warm bubble bath. She’s grateful for once that the oval, free-standing bathtub is in front of a large window looking out to the meadow of flowers. She opens it as she draws the bath, Hecate close behind her retrieving their preferred bath cocktail and plush towels.

As they have many, many times before, Hecate and Pippa undress each other, letting silk and satin drop to the floor and reveal smooth skin interrupted with infrequent scars of a life lived. They touch and caress and pet until Hecate finally turns the blonde and motions for her to get in the tub. She takes her rightful place between her legs and settles back to front.

Their words are whispered and comfortably lagged. They talk of plans for the rest of the week and jokingly entertain the idea of permanently moving in together though it would be absolutely implausible. However, two witches can dream, can’t them?

And as the couple escapes the cooling water and as the dew settles on luscious green grass, the couple dresses in their most casual, lazy day clothes. Pippa in a sophisticated pair of sweatpants and one of Hecate’s shirts and Hecate in an olive sundress that floats around her ankles. They settle into their lazy day, cuddled up on the couch, content and completely at ease.

[artsoupsoupart]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Characters: Hardbroom (Worst Witch), Pentangle (Worst Witch), Drill (Worst Witch), Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Feelings, Shameless Smut, in which Pippa just knows, and Hecate is so soft, Hicsqueak
Summary: For her 40th birthday, Hecate is taken out to a club to celebrate.

[artsoupsoupart]

Lol I got another tattoo. My friend said it looked like two people dancing but it’s two faces about to kiss 😏 I’m really in love with it and now I really want to get a few more tattoos