#edited with further info

[diathadevil]

Yeah okay I caved in and did some character sheets for Aideen.

First sketch is from tonight and the later two sketches I did 2 weeks ago when I initially got her design started and did the Klaus and Dee illustration, so if y'all see any inconsistency with the style or writing let's not talk about that shall we yeah.

There's so much stuff I wrote about her this past week to my friends I can only give y'all a fraction of what I wrote down here ;;;;;;;

[midnightglcss]

* / elizabeth kleiman.

elizabeth is an evol - her ability is based on glass.

she stands at 5'2", 60 kilograms soaking wet, and her birthday is january 2nd (her zodiac sign is capricorn).

she also uses said ability to help with her projects - especially with her job as a glass blower, which is arguably her main source of income.

like those restaurants where servers sing songs from musical theater, elizabeth will often sing while she works on a project (barring from when she has to blow up the hot glass ofc).

on the previous note - bettie is a classically trained soprano, despite her ability to also sing in a lower range.

if it wasn't obvious enough, her myth/past life is based on cinderella.

in her incarnations, elizabeth either had very poor vision, was born blind, or had perfect vision and lost it completely after some point in her life. in this incarnation, she IS considered legally blind, but she only requires correctional lenses, much to her [current] relief.

elizabeth is mostly divergent from the canon mc route - heavy emphasis on mostly. up until the events of chapter four; she lived with josephine to get away from her own mother, something her father greatly encouraged. bettie still keeps in touch with her father, but she rarely sees him nowadays due to the distance and his line of work as a psychologist.

elizabeth has a childhood friend who lives on a farm right outside the bloomshore district; her name is delaney carmichael [most likely an NPC here but i do write her on discord also!].

she has undiagnosed insomnia; which is likely the result of her having been attacked in her sleep in a few of her past lives - not that she remembers, anyhow. elizabeth DOES try to sleep when she has the chance, she swears.

elizabeth's apartment/living space is right above her store! this link -> ( x ) shows what i envision the floor layout of her flat to look like.

her immediate family consists of-

- alexandre kleiman (father; alive)

- harriet penelli (mother; alive/estranged)

- jason kleiman (twin brother; deceased)

elizabeth's full name is elizabeth taylor kleiman. yes, she was named after the famed actress, it was my personal idea.

[storm-of-feathers]

a?

[petr1kov]

can we get a johnny update? how much more do you think you’ll need to cover his treatment? i’m hoping i can donate once my next paycheck comes in 👉👈

first of all, thank you for asking! i want to talk more about his condition here but i don't want to come across as 'too much', so it's nice of you to show interest in knowing more and helping

i'll say more under the cut since i'll include some not-so-pretty pictures that some people don't want to see:

so far, the only thing we know for sure is that he has a nasty tumor that became infected, and another one growing on the other side of his mouth -- if you compare these pictures with the ones i took of him last week, you can see the difference:

i made that original post before i took him to the oncologist (in part to be able to afford a visit in the first place), so i only had what the first vet i took him to said to go off of, meaning, the surgery. but speaking to the oncologist, she said that given the state of his mouth, the only way to 'solve' this problem would be to completely remove his jaw, which, given his advanced age (don't know if i mentioned it before but johnny is around 16, so he's pretty old for a dog) would be pretty risky and painful and in her words, 'not worth it', given the fact that unlike a younger dog, he doesn't have years to acclimate with a new condition like this, and it would be stressful for him. assuming it would even be viable in the first place, that is.

on top of that, we've discovered that his tumor had not only grown but become infected, which made cytology and biopsy impossible until he healed of this infection first, exams he needs in order to determine the exact nature of his tumor and for the vet to know how to proceed after that. his symptoms and blood test indicate cancer, but there's a small chance that it's something else, so either way we need to do it to identify what it is.

in the meantime, we gave him an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory as well as medicine for pain, and we also took him to a bunch of other exams this week: another blood test, an x-ray, an ultrasound, and an echocardiogram. this is all both how healthy and strong he is overall, and so we can know if this cancer has metastasized anywhere else on his body. we are expected to return next thursday with his results, since by then, his infection will likely be gone (it has already stopped bleeding, at least).

all of that said, when it comes to money, the amount i have received on previous donations has already been a huge help as it has basically covered all we have done so far: the oncologist (180), the medicine (220, 66, and 100 total), the exams (can't remember each individually but it all amounted to 570). this is all in reais, but still, pretty expensive, and i definitely didn't have the money, especially not on such short notice, so i thank all who donated!

given how we still don't know for sure what his treatment will consist of, i cannot say how much more i will have to spend after that. i am very worried about it, believe me, because i know that no matter how it goes there WILL be a treatment and it WILL cost me, but i can't know just how much yet, so i can only speculate. given our previous visit, i think he'll likely need to undergo chemotherapy, but again, that's just my guess for now.

what i do know for sure is that next thursday, i will take him to the oncologist again where we will finally do a cytology test on him, and i'll take him to the dentist following that, since we need to determine exactly what can be done regarding his mouth. i have enough left for the oncologist, but not the dentist and the exam, which will cost about (250) combined. and i'm praying that the cytology will be enough because from what i've been told, a biopsy will cost over 1000, which is basically all the money i have received thus far on one single exam :|

also, as for how he's holding up, the medicine he's taking made him lose some of his appetite and he's a little down, but the vet said that is to be expected. i'm worried about that, because he was at least behaving normally a week before, and i can't say if it's the medicine or the disease making him act this way.

idk man, it's been pretty hard not just for me but for my family (mother and brother). my late father rescued johnny from the streets almost 10 years ago, when he was already an adult dog. he's been a fixture of our lives for a long time, and he's a pretty lively, loud dog. it's weird to see him like this. so yeah, no matter what happens, i just want what's best for him.

[mosneakers]

Reaper's Wardrobe Collection

Everytime a new pack comes out, there's a big haul of junk for Donna to sort through down at Darling Thrift. And when you're part of a legacy so heavily focused on life and death, there's bound to be a HUGE assortment to pick from this season. Whispers on the street say Grim himself dropped off a few things from his own closet 😊

There's a lot I could say about this, but I'll try to keep it somewhat short. I just wanted to be creative and this is my first big cc project, I'm also very new to cc clothing so go easy on me, but of course tell me if any goes terribly wrong!

25 items

base game compatible

ranging of all ages and genders

???💀

includes entire zip folder or individual downloads

more info to be updated soon, my brain is exhausted and I just wanted to get this to you all while it's still friday the 13th ♥

Download [sfs]

Download [patreon]

@alwaysfreecc @sssvitlanz @cosmickittysfinds @mmfinds @occultradioccfinds

edit: Almost forgot! I wanted to give credit to leo_morg from MTS for extracting the original scythe from the game. I edited the mesh and texture. I originally was just using it for previews but since I worked on it I figured I might as well include it in the collection :)

edit-12/15/24: Fixed an issued on the accessory lingerie, where previously it hid any nails your sim was wearing. This is no longer an issue. Please delete the previous and redownload or replace the old file with the new. Both the zip file and the individual file has been updated. Will continue to update if I encounter further issue, thank youuu :)

edit- 12/18/24: Additional Information Packet now available 📝

[starbuck]

i really have to stop being like “my Murder Mystery play is done” as if “done” means “just a few more little bits to write” and not “done”…

[bunni-v1]

wellll since you are taking requests! Can I request Sylus, Caleb, and Zayne with a fem reader who's playful and loves to tease them in public but when their having sex, she's all shy and that?? <33 (I haven't requested something in such a long time, I forgot how this works 😭😭)

Don't Hide~

Pt. 2

🍓Baby, you fucking know you can. My little MC is exactly like this, so thank you soooo much for allowing me to write her vicariously through this ask. I have sooo much fun with brat taming, you have no idea, I should write it wayyyyy more. Anyway, I really tried not to let my favoritism for Caleb show here, but he still has more than the other two. Sue me, I love my man.

TW: Intense eye contact in Caleb's; Brat taming; cat ears mentioned but not relevant in Sylus' part; Sylus is crazy big; teasing; softcore otherwise; editing/grammar errors (i am one college student)

Info: Sylus, Zayne, Caleb x Reader (Separate); NSFW

Word Count(s): Zayne (1.2k); Sylus (1.2k); Caleb (1.5k)

MDNI

ZAYNE

You loved to just push, didn't you? It was an annoyingly charming part of you, one that Zayne just adored in most situations. Playful poking and prodding was part of your daily routine, something he expected and honestly needed from you. If you weren't causing some kind of problem for him, you weren't doing well. He would rather you annoy him than see you sad and quiet.

Still, you really could get under his skin when you tried. Bonuses of knowing each other so well, he guessed. Even framing it like a positive was hard when you were trying your very best to get him to react.

Having your arms wrapped around him was a more than welcome experience in most cases. He loved it when you were so openly affectionate in public; it made him feel better about how badly he wanted to hold you, too. What he was not a fan of was the way your sneaky little hands seemed to be creeping lower and lower down his back. It was cute, at first. Easily mistaken as a comforting gesture when your fingers drew themselves back up after dipping just a little lower.

Yet, they didn't stop dipping a little lower. Each stroke got longer, went further down his back, until your fingers were dancing along the hem of his pants. If that weren't bad enough, you were doing it in front of a colleague of yours. Tara, you'd excitedly introduced. Chirping along happily together like two birds of a feather, like you weren't pushing your luck with each passing second. You knew that, though, didn't you?

He shoots you the subtlest look when your hand hovers over his behind, a warning. One, you do not heed, clamping your hand down and pinching his cheek with a Cheshire grin. And he squeaks, despite expecting it, the feeling still takes him off guard. Your grin only widens, especially when Tara blinks in surprise.

"Are you okay, Mr. Li?" She asks, befuddled at how such a stoic man could make such a noise.

He clears his throat, glancing at you, less subtly, "Fine. We should be going, though."

"Aww," you and Tara pout at the same time, though yours is far less genuine than hers.

"Well, it was nice to see you. Have fun with the rest of your day!" She waves, skipping away, oblivious to the tension between you.

Zayne lets out a deep and heavy breath, annoyance leaving him all at once. His eyes zero in on your smirking face, expression even despite the intent clouding his green eyes. He tugs your hand away, wrapping it around his waist in a firm grip so you don't do the same thing again.

"You can't behave for a second, can you?" He sighs.

Another self-satisfied smirk, "It's not my fault you have such a cute butt! It's just begging me to grab it."

He hums, pulling you along with him without another word. He can feel the excitement rolling off you in waves, practically leaping and bounding at his side to get home. How obnoxiously adorable. Your ability to manipulate him into giving you what you want was admirable; he'll give you that. Besides, it's not as though he'd be the one feeling embarrassed by the end of the night, so he'd let you have your little victories.

--

He'd had you on your knees before the front door could even fully close. Shaky hands struggling with his belt, fumbling futilely a few times before finally wriggling it out enough to unzip his pants and slide his member out. It bobs uselessly in front of your mouth, begging for some semblance of friction. Naturally, as if magnetically attracted, you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

A firm hand stops you before you can, making your face scrunch up in confusion, fluttering up to his. The intensity in his eyes is enough to burn you up from the inside, heated and full of intent. You look away quickly, trying to ignore the heat searing beneath your skin. He doesn't allow you to run, gripping your chin and bringing your eyes back to him.

"Use your hands," He commands, "and look at me. Understood."

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. Not good enough.

"Words."

You swallow, "Yes, Zayne."

The grip on your chin softens, stroking the skin there as if apologizing for the roughness, "Good."

Your shaky hands come up, spitting on them for lubricant, then carefully wrap around his cock. Gentle, easy, practiced. You know what he likes, slow and easy. You watch the way your hands glide along his shaft, smiling when the sticky pre-cum coats your fingers. So pretty.

He clears his throat, and you correct your mistake like you've been Pavloved. Looking up at his flushed face, chest heaving, and body, eyes watching your every move. Nervousness tends to build up in your chest when he looks at you like that. No walls or hidden meaning, just sheer desire. You want to hide away from it, but you know he won't let you. All you can do is swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat and let your face burn hotter and hotter.

You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some of the need between your legs. It's useless, as expected, and only serves to make you feel more pathetic. You don't stop, though, obediently tugging his member at an even pace. His breath grows more shaky with each stroke, mouth slightly ajar and puffing the hot air out unevenly. Much prettier.

His fingers trace along your chin, down the sensitive column of your neck, and back up again. Mirroring your movements from earlier, giving you a taste of your own medicine. It makes you shy away a little, flinching back when they dip between your collarbones. He spreads them out as he comes back up, pausing in the center of your throat and giving the smallest press, prompting you to swallow against them. He shudders when you do, having to use the door to keep himself upright.

He was close, so close. It made you want to speed up, but you don't. Not unless he tells you to.

"Are you sorry?" He suddenly asks, low and gravely, like it was hard to get out in the first place.

You bite your lip, shrinking into yourself as you mumble, "'m sorry..."

"Clearly," he commands, "or else I'll make you stop right now."

You jolt, shaking your head adamantly, "I-I'm sorry. I am! I promise, please?"

He scoffs a laugh, "Brat... open your mouth, now."

You comply, sticking your tongue out, and within a few moments, he's spurting out onto it. You lap up his release obediently, never breaking eye contact, no matter how much it drives you insane. The hand on your chin comes up to pet your hair, a silent praise for your good work.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asks lowly, scratching your scalp gently.

You nod, proud to please. It's cute. Really cute. But he's not quite satisfied. With a low hum, he helps you off your knees, nudging you through the house on a straight path to the bedroom.

"Why don't we test that theory, then?" He whispers, a promise that you were in for a long night of behavioral correction.

SYLUS

Sylus was a tease at heart, always pushing your buttons and getting on your nerves with little to no effort at all. He'd admitted to you on more than one occasion that he found your feisty reactions positively adorable. You were his little kitten, after all, what kind of man would he be if he didn't get you swatting your claws at him?

However, teasing him was a difficult endeavor. One that you'd become an expert in. See, you couldn't just whisper sweet nothings into his ear or draw your hands along him sensually. He didn't react to that; he found it more funny than alluring. Calling you needy, which you weren't. No, if you wanted to get something out of him you had to be smarter than just sheer sex appeal.

You had to be cute.

Not so cute that you came off as childish and stupid, he would catch on to things too fast and ruin your fun. Just cute enough that it would get his heart racing, make him pause, and take a second to admire you. When he did that, you knew you got what you wanted.

Which is why you were walking hand in hand with him now, swinging your arm just slightly between your bodies. You were in some expensive shopping district, looking around for something to wear for a mission you were assigned to. He'd insisted on buying you a dress when you'd mentioned it offhand. Who were you to deny him the privilege of seeing you spin around in glittering dresses like a teenager picking out a prom dress?

You'd gotten a bit... off track, though. Purposefully, of course, not that he needed to know that. Excitedly bounding from shop window to shop window, gazing in at the silly souvenirs and cute little stuffed animals like a kid on Christmas. Sylus allowed you to tug him around, a soft smile on his face as you rambled about how cute that little teddy bear is, then in the same breath refused to let him buy it for you.

You stopped short when you came across a little standee outside of a costume shop, laughing at its contents. Cat ears of various types hung on the little turnstile, the perfect killer. You bounded up to it, scanning across the different types before plucking two off the rack. You turn back to Sylus then, a giddy smile as you show him your little treasure, lifting it up with pride.

He leans down without another word, letting you set the white pair on his head. His eyes softening when you clap your hands. You know you've got him right where you want him. You just needed the finishing blow. You set the second pair on your head, pointing your chin to the sky like a proud lion.

He smirks at the sight, petting your head like he would a regular cat, "Aren't you cute?"

You bite your lip, going in for the throat, "Now I really am your kitten, huh?"

He pauses, visibly processing your words and realizing just what you were up to. A scoff tumbles out of his mouth, eyes rolling from the sheer idiocy. He'd fallen for your cutesy little antics, again, just like he always did. Steady fingers grip your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes settled on him.

"I wasn't aware she was so prone to misbehavior. Tell me, are you looking for punishment, kitten?" He purrs lowly.

Mission successful, "I'dunno what you mean, Sy..."

--

Riding Sylus always felt impossible thanks to his incredible size. You always managed to fit it, but it was more than just a little fight. This is what you asked for, though. Your little cry for attention earlier rewarded with a brand new pair of cat ears, and Sylus’ lazy smirk as you struggled to adjust to him.

Your hands weakly kneaded at his chest, trying to ground yourself from the intensity of the stretch. He merely watched you, red eyes drawing across your figure slow and steady, pleased to have you on display for him. His calloused hands rested at your waist, thumbing over the skin there in approval as you settled down.

It was impossible to hide from him like this, making the burning sensation across your body all the more apparent. You just couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the way he seemed to drink you in, savoring you with every sense at his disposal. You were sure he had a secret sixth one made just to relish in your humiliation. Yet, he does not say a word to shame you or make you feel less than. Just watches and appreciates you as you are.

Somehow, that was worse than degradation, melting your mind to a mushy pile of nervousness.

Still, you’d practically begged for this, and as always Sylus had given it to you as you wished. You wouldn’t want to disappoint both of you, so you took a deep breath and began rolling your hips. Slow little circles at first. Unsure, but gradually building as you grew more comfortable in your place on top of him.

Each movement set your nerves alight, sending shocks of pleasure across each inch of your skin. The heat building in your core, spanning across every nook and cranny of your body, wrapping you in a blanket of warm pleasure. Sylus seems to track it with his eyes, drawing up from the sensual roll of your hips, to the way your muscles tense, across your bouncing tits, and landing on your scrunched up little face.

You could practically hear him purring — no, he was purring. A low grumble shaking his chest, traveling through your trembling fingertips and sending the signals directly to the heat between your legs. To be admired so much was just too much for you to handle right now.

You lean over him, tucking your face into his shoulder. It’s a weak attempt to hide at best, not that you’d be able to hide no matter what you did, but you make it all too easy for him to pull you up with a gentleness that seemed too loving for the moment. All too Sylus as he eased your pouting visage back into his line of sight.

“Running away already?” He coos, fingers massaging your neck as if placating you.

You’re far too embarrassed to argue with him, so you just nod, “It’s too much.”

He hums, mocking thought as he takes in your weak excuses. You’re far too cute for him to know what to do with, but he would figure it out, “Do you need my help, kitten?”

In the second of clarity you have, you debate telling him no. Yet, he twitches inside of you when you open your eyes to take in his all consuming stare, and the thought evaporates from your mind. You do need his help, very badly. You’ll probably burn alive between the scorching pleasure and his fiery gaze without him there to placate the flames.

You give him a weak little teary eyed nod, and he eases your face back into his shoulder. He was always so accommodating with you, so gentle and loving that it made your stomach tie into knots. Only forgetting the feeling when he helped to work you along his length, humming sweet words of praise into your ears, letting you hide away from him all you wanted. That’s what you wanted after all, right?

CALEB

Teasing Caleb was an art form that only you had mastered. You would think that after knowing someone for so long, it would be easy to rile them up. Yet, Caleb was the most controlled man you had ever met when it came to handling your light-hearted jabs. Part of it was thanks to how well he knew you, but the other part was simply because he was good at ignoring his own feelings. He could push and push and push them down to the depths of his mind until they were practically non-existent, and your teasing was no different.

The most you'd get for your efforts was a smirk, maybe a ruffle of your hair as he scolds you, and if you were really annoying, he would chase you around the house and tickle you for your crimes. Rarely was it anything more intense than that.

Rarely. Not never.

There was one way to get Caleb hot and bothered enough to do something, and that was your favorite game of all time: Look, don't touch. It was fun to see just how far you could get, doing all his favorite things with an air of innocence, just to see how long it would take to get him to crack.

Your personal favorite method of torture was to find a shirt of his - dirty, preferably - slide it on and walk around the house with nothing but it and a lacy pair of red panties. (His favorite, judging from how often they go missing from the laundry.) It's a long game you have to play, because winning against Caleb's disciplined ability to pretend was always a long game. Luckily, you were just about the one weakness in his mental fortitude.

You start in the morning before he leaves for work, or else it won't work. If he's at home all day, he'll just take care of it without thought. You walk out of the room, and his eyes catch on your legs. They rake over the exposed skin like trying to burn it into his memory, as if he hadn't done that a million times before. Then, like clockwork, he realizes what he's doing and tries to look anywhere but you as you waltz around. Knowing he has a responsibility that he can't skimp on, even for you, keeps him stiff and robotic as you kiss him goodbye.

Then, step two kicks in: text him frequently. Keeping yourself at the forefront of his mind (which you always are, mind you) and letting him know you're thinking of him makes him squirm in a way that's unbefitting of a soldier. He can't stop himself from thinking about your legs, the way his shirt rested against your body, and what was beneath it. Waiting, begging him to get a peek as you stretched your arms over your head. His eye twitches when you send him yet another suspiciously worded text - never incriminating, but always implicative.

Then, when his shift is nearly over, when you spent your whole day playing coy, you reach the final phase of your plan. You send pictures. Nothing explicit. That would ruin the fun of it all. Just cute, mundane tasks. A downward angle of you cooking dinner, reading a book on his bed, or maybe just a picture of a movie you're watching with your bare legs in view. All visual reminders of what he left at home, all reminders of why he needs to get back now.

--

Normally, Caleb prefers you to tell him what you like in bed. He's soft, attentive, a little sloppy, but entirely obsessed with your pleasure. It's not as though he's neglecting that part of himself, quite the opposite, actually. You were the one who had made it abundantly clear that you wanted- needed him to put you in your place. He knows your little games, he knows you like no other person on the planet - in the galaxy, hell, the entire universe.

So, of course, he knew you wanted him to fold you in half and show you what happens to misbehaving, teasing little pipsqueaks like yourself for all your efforts. Who was he to deny you of what you'd been begging for all day? Wouldn't that make him a bad Caleb? It almost means that the way he makes you look at him, knowing full well that the eye contact sends you into a flurry of embarrassment. He's just so... intense, in every sense of the word, especially when he's having sex with you.

One leg bent up to your head, the other wrapped around his waist, and two strong arms boxing your head had you surrounded. Chest to chest, buried to the hilt, there was no escaping the little prison of pleasure Caleb had built for you. Your reward equaled your punishment, and you wished you could complain, but you knew your voice would catch in your throat and Caleb would tease you for it. You had no choice but to sit there and look up at him, hoping he'd be a little nicer than you were to him today.

His eyes are hot as they trace along the planes of your face, eating up the sight like his last meal on earth. The subtle shift in his expression as you squeeze around him, feeling the intensity of his gaze far more deeply than you'd ever admit out loud. His eyebrows twitch up in surprise, before a lazy smirk crawls over his face, leaning down to kiss along the apple of your cheek to the shell of your ear.

"Y'know," He starts in a low drawl, sending your head spinning, "If you want me to take care of you, you can just ask."

You shake your head, though there isn't a real purpose for it. You're just a little too flustered to think right when he's got you like this. His dominance really is something all-consuming, and it reminds you why you don't tease him like this often. You would be a dead man if you had to put up with his relentlessness every time you had sex.

"No?" He asks, as if he's confused, but the condescension in his voice gives him away.

He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing against your walls just enough to get you to tremble a little. Then, all at once, he pulls himself out to the tip and pushes his way back inside in a fluid motion, "You don't want me to do that? Then tell me what you need, won't you?"

You whimper, tossing your arms on your face like that might help you here. Nearly forgetting how easily he overpowers you in your hazy headspace until he seamlessly pulls your hands over your head, interlacing your fingers as if they belonged together.

"No, no, no. None of that, you gotta look at me, 'kay?" He hums so sickeningly sweet it makes you want to swing at him.

A whine tears through your throat, tossing your head to the side to bury into his arm. Defiant and bratty to the end, as always. He huffs out a laugh that's all too affectionate for how annoying he was being, then chases your face with his own. You feel the warm press of his sweat-slicked forehead against yours, heated breath fanning over your face. You don't budge, not even when he nudges your nose with his own as encouragement.

He's reaching the end of his limited patience; you can feel it in the way his fingers tremble around your wrists. He could hold back all day when you weren't physically near him, but he was inside you for god's sake. Any man - well trained soldier or not - would collapse under the extreme pressure of a nice warm pussy. Your nice warm pussy was simply one of the greatest weaknesses he had, second only to your oh so pretty eyes he was being deprived of right now.

"Pips," He whines, voice uncharacteristically squeaky, "Lemme see your pretty eyes, yeah?"

You curl your hands into tight fists, trying and failing to fight him off one last time. A little voice in your mind reminds you of how mean you were to him today. Listen to his voice, he needs you just as bad as you need him. It's okay to give in, Caleb will take care of everything, it whispers so sweetly. You can't refuse its logic, not when it seems so totally right as he twitches inside you again.

You slowly peel your eyes open, nearly jumping at the way he's staring so intently at you. Brows worried, lip caught between his teeth, and pretty purple eyes darting across your face. You expect some kind of comment from him, some words of praise or thanks, but all you get is his hips pulling back and slamming back into you. It gets your toes curling instantaneously, a moan ripping from your vocal cords in surprise.

You shouldn't be, though. This is what you wanted. Caleb was just giving it to you. He would always give it to you.

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

Please read this post too from my other blog before you tell people don’t donate to gfms:

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers and sometimes the asks are edited only to add new phrases to them in time.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks. Usually some may even be an hour old and reusing a familiar pfp/ask.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search. You may find verified fundraisers too.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from. Sometimes the text is just reused from past scams such as asking for insulin that doesn’t last long.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

10. If you do see a GoFundMe link on a blog, don’t immediately assume it’s a scam just because it’s a relatively new account. Check the post notes to see if anyone’s verified the account yet or wait a bit as it takes time. You likely can search around to see if anyone’s posted anything where the blog has been vetted by others. You may also see if the GoFundMe is referred to on other socials or on lists that compile verified and vetted fundraisers.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

[vhstown]

please stop scrolling and take the time to read this.

i don't think people understand the extent of the horror happening in palestine right now. "death" means nothing to people because of desensitisation so let me just tell you what white phosphorus is. it's being used in israeli munitions and has been and will continue to be fired across gaza and the palestinian borders.

white phosphorus burns when it comes into contact with oxygen (at nearly 800°C or 1500°F. the human body can withstand ~50°C for reference.) the air you breathe in ignites and it is near impossible extinguish. it sticks to clothing and skin and is very difficult to remove because it will continue to ignite in air. it burns flesh up to the bone and even past the bone because it penetrates tissue and is absorbed VERY easily. if you inhale it it'll destroy your respiratory tract and lungs. it can cause failure in multiple organs including the liver, kidneys and heart. it is being released in one of the most densely populated places on earth.

the only way to treat someone exposed to white phosphorus is to submerge them in saline or water and to pick out the substance with forceps, and when you undress a wound the substance can re-ignite. this is just ONE weapon that is being used to kill palestinian people right now. palestine does not have access to medical care, humanitarian aid, power, or internet. their hospitals are being bombed. gaza is one of the most densely populated places in the world with over 50% of the population being children. many children are the sole survivors of their families. there are videos of children experiencing panic attacks and symptoms of ptsd. the fact that israel has committed war crimes in plain sight means that we can only imagine what will happen to the palestinians in complete darkness.

israel has and will continue to deny this. your interests and fandom will still be here, you will wake up tomorrow morning and see your friends and family, but an entire nation of people are being wiped off the map. being silent is being complacent. reblog, spread information, tell people in real life, attend protests, sign petitions, call your government offices, at the very least be angry and upset and horrified because once you become numb and indifferent and hopeless the oppressors will have already won.

what's happening right now is more than a genocide and once it becomes a part of history we'll wonder how the world let this happen. genocides have been part of all nations. just because it is far away does not mean you don't have to be concerned. the fact that YOUR governments and YOUR idols and the people around YOU are supporting the mass eradication of an entire group of people should scare you. it shouldn't make you feel anything less than sick and angry and disgusted. DO something about it, no matter how small you feel your voice is, because palestinians no longer have one.

[edit] links to some helpful reblogs: one & two

post on how you can help palestine

learn about palestine with this masterlist of info

+ a further reblog of mine

[edit 2] about palestinians "not having a voice" at the time i wrote this post internet connection was cut off entirely and even journalists weren't able to report for a period of time — that is all i meant by that. they of course have a voice and i never meant to undermine how people are risking their lives in gaza to get information out there and i apologise if thats what people took from it, it was not my intention but it is entirely my bad. please continue to spread information and updates from gaza as they come.

[breelandwalker]

2024 Witches' Calendar

For all my witches out there, here's a handy list of the 2024 dates for the solstices, quarter days, full and new moons, and special events. I've listed my sources at the bottom.

Dates and times for all events are calculated for Eastern Standard Time, USA, Northern Hemisphere. Adjust for your location as needed and check the DarkSky Placefinder to see what special events will be visible in your area. Enjoy!

Solstices, Harvests, and Quarter Days

February 1-2 - Imbolc / Candlemas

March 19 - Spring Equinox / Ostara

April 30-May 1 - Beltane / May Day

June 20 - Summer Solstice / Midsummer / Litha

August 1 - Lughnasadh / Lammas / Summer Harvest

September 22 - Autumn Equinox / Mabon / Fall Harvest

October 31 - Samhain / Halloween / Final Harvest

December 21 - Winter Solstice / Yule

Full Moons

January 25 - Wolf Moon ♌

February 24 - Snow Moon ♍

March 25 - Worm Moon ♎

April 23 - Pink Moon ♏

May 23 - Flower Moon ♐

June 21 - Strawberry Moon ♑

July 21 - Thunder Moon (aka Buck Moon) ♑

August 19 - Sturgeon Moon* ♒

September 17 - Harvest Moon* ♓

October 17 - Hunter's Moon (aka Blood Moon)* ♈

November 15 - Frost Moon (or Beaver Moon)* ♉

December 15 - Cold Moon ♊

*- Supermoon

Fun Fact: The title of Harvest Moon is given to either the September or October full moon, whichever falls closest to the autumn equinox. Once again this year, that month will be September.

New Moons

January 11 ♑

February 9 ♒

March 10 ♓

April 8 ♈

May 7 ♉

June 6 ♊

July 5 ♋

August 4 ♌

September 2 ♍

October 2 ♎

November 1 ♏

December 1 ♐

December 30 (black moon) ♑

Special Celestial Events

January 3-4 - Quadrantids meteor shower peak

March 25 - Penumbral Lunar Eclipse

April 8 - Total solar eclipse

April 22-23 - Lyrids meteor shower peak

May 6-7 - Eta Aquarids meteor shower peak

August 11-13 - Perseids meteor shower peak

August 19 - Sturgeon Supermoon / Seasonal Blue Moon

September 17 - Harvest Supermoon / Penumbral Lunar Eclipse

October 2 - "Ring of Fire" solar eclipse

October 17 - Hunter's Supermoon

October 21-22 - Orionids meteor shower peak

November 15 - Frost Supermoon

November 16-17 - Leonids meteor shower peak

December 13-14 - Geminids meteor shower peak

December 30 - Black Moon

(Check the DarkSky Placefinder to see what will be visible in your area!)

Mercury Retrogrades (in case you need them)

April 1 - April 24

August 4 - August 27

November 25 - December 15

Happy Witching!

SOURCES & FURTHER READING:

Bree's Lunar Calendar Series

Bree's Secular Celebrations Series

Moon Info - Full Moon Dates for 2024

Calendar-12 - 2024 Moon Phases

Full Moonology - 2024 Full Moon Calendar

AstroStyle - All the 2024 Full Moons

Your Zodiac Sign - Astrology Calendar 2024

Old Farmer's Almanac - Mercury Retrograde Dates 2023-2024

Lonely Planet - Best Star-gazing Events of 2024

Sea and Sky - Astronomy Calendar of Celestial Events 2024

DarkSky International - Dark Sky Placefinder for Stargazing

Pagan Grimoire - Wheel of the Year: The 8 Festivals in the Wiccan Calendar (2024 Edition)

=

If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊

EDIT: Mercury is stationed direct on Jan 1st, 2024. The source I used which stated it was in retrograde until the 18th had a typo.

EDIT: Fixed the zodiac signs for the full moons using a new source.

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)

You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.

But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.

(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"

From the 404 article:

A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”

So please, go click that opt-out button.

(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"

Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”

It should make a difference! Go click that button.

(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"

This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:

This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.

And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:

zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.

So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)

Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)

(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"

I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.

Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:

The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.

So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*

But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:

The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.

On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:

For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.

Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.

If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.

Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.

I hope this helps!

[honeytonedhottie]

honey's it girl magazine november edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the november catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion.

before we go any further i'd love to thank you all for the wonderful year we've had of it girls magazine, writing every catalog is SUCH a joy and im glad that u guys like it to. i'll continue to work on the magazine and make it more enjoyable for u all. i hope that as the magazine grows and evolves i'll have more lovely girlbloggers featured in my catalogs. this is THEE magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.

THE HISTORY OF HELLO KITTY ;

hello kitty was born in the suburbs of london. she lives with her parents and her twin sister mimmy who is her bff. her hobbies include baking cookies and making new friends. as she always says, “you can never have too many friends”. but what else is there to know about this 3 apples tall ray of sunshine? SOOO much actually which is why i decided to write about hello kitty’s history.

hello kitty was created by the japanese company sanrio in 1974. she was initially designed by yuko shimizu. hello kitty quickly became emblematic of the cute culture in japan and a global symbol of nostalgia and girliness. hello kitty’s representation of girliness played such an important role in defining and popularizing kawaii culture in japan. hello kitty became a subtle statement of empowerment in the 1970s and 80’s.

the average apple is 3 inches tall. take your height in inches and divide it by three to find out how many apples tall you are! im 21 apples tall…💬🎀

during the 70's and 80's expectations for women were shifting, and with this context hello kitty emerged not only as an adorable kitty but as an emblem of a new type of femininity—one that embraced softness and strength simultaneously. hello kitty is associated with things like happiness and joy. in the 21st century, hello kitty’s presence in pop culture exploded.

a lot of celebrities are seen with hello kitty items, hello kitty collaborated with high-fashion brands, artists etc. they all appreciated her mix of innocence and global acclaim. and i think that the fact that shes maintained her grip on society even now says so much! hello kitty just RESONATES.

and honestly, hello kitty's longevity is a testament to her universal appeal. over the decades, hello kitty has gone from being just a character to becoming a pop culture icon that resonates with people of all ages and regions of the world. whether it’s a child picking out their first hello kitty backpack or an adult rocking a limited-edition hello kitty x gucci collection, she bridges generations with her timeless charm 💖

the success of hello kitty has a lot to do with her straightforward yet unmistakably unique design. her iconic bow, the lack of a mouth—on purpose, so that she can "speak from the heart"—and her endless versatility only cement hello kitty as an open canvas for self-expression. she’s playful, she’s nostalgic, she’s even edgy, depending on how she’s styled or reimagined.

hello kitty became a symbol of softness and femininity because she showed that being gentle and kind could still be powerful. when she was created in the 70s, women were stepping into new roles, and hello kitty stood for a new kind of strength—which wasn’t about being loud or aggressive but about connection, joy, and kindness.

SELF GRATITUDE. YOU'RE SO AMAZING ;

gratitude is a feeling thats really emphasized during november and i think that we should always be most grateful to ourselves! no one puts as much effort or loves u as much as u do. so lets take some time to appreciate ourselves and everything that we've done for ourselves as 2024 comes to an end.

take a moment to recognize everything that you've achieved this year, challenges that you've overcome and things that you've done for yourself this year to create a better more glamorous life for yourself. dont forget to say thank you and celebrate yourself cuz ur literally so cute and amazing and capable 💕

some ways that u can celebrate yourself and show gratitude towards yourself include…💬🎀

♡ pamper yourself with a spa day ♡ book that appointment you wanted ♡ write a love letter to yourself ♡ buy yourself a bouquet of flowers

PREPPING FOR A SUCCESSFUL YEAR ;

2025 is right around the corner so we should prepare and set ourselves up for success in this new year. so to start off prep for the next year we should make a MANIFESTATION list. title the list "2025" and write down everything that u want to manifest that year in a list fashion.

an important aspect of setting urself up for success in the new year is to reflect on the year we just had. reflect on your year so that u can see what u accomplished this year/what u can do better in the next year…💬🎀

i break up my year into 4 quarters (each lasting 3 months) that way i can see my year broken up and i have a clear plan and i can be organized. quarter one (january - march) quarter two (april - june) so on and so forth. and after every quarter i do a little analysis. and finally wrap up some things projects, assignments and things of that nature so that u can go into the next year on a clean slate.

WHAT THE IT GIRLS ARE LISTENING TO ;

first im gonna start off by talking about txt's new album SANCTUARY cuz if u guys didn't know im a moa 🙈. i LOVED everything about this album, the concept EVERYTHING. my favorite song on the album is 41 winks and over the moon is also incredible, i loved all the songs!! literally u cant name one bad song txts ever released cuz it doesnt fucking exist their discography is perfect. 10/10. i highly recommend giving it a listen if u have not.

tyla also released push to start and the music video is just a work of ART. tyla has been consistently giving us hit after hit, shes so incredibly talented and i LOVE push to start. i love the choreography also, but something that i love the MOST about this music video is the fashion like HELLO?? tyla rocked tiny tops and big boots in this music video and im lowkey living for it. the fringes in her tiny top in the opening scene, her teensy denim shorts that she leaves unbuttoned to show off her blinged out panties like YES.

THE ADVICE COLUMN ;

Hi! Question for the advice column. I'm going on a trip for my birthday to a retreat, with a group of 10 friends in a couple of weeks. It's only 3 days but I am so excited. I am in a part of the world where it's summer right now, so my question is: what are your essentials for a summer trip? Swimming gear, accessories, skincare etc, I'm planning all my outfits in advance, so any advice is appreciated. Thank you! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

��︎ SPF (between 30-50)

❤︎ lacy/frilly bikinis and swimsuits. they make u look like an absolute beach doll 🍬✨

❤︎ a yummy body butter + body shimmer (during the summer, we show lots of skin so its important to stay moisturized like a glazed doughnut and also to sparkle like the star u are)

❤︎ as for clothing i typically opt for tube tops, mini skirts, sundresses and things of that nature. i LOVE summer fashion

❤︎ blinged out water tumbler for fashionable hydration 💦 and ofc a portable mini fan

Do you know how to make yourself look more exotic/tropical in appearance? Like I want to look like a tropical mermaid - cotton candy doll

❤︎ use a bit of shimmery bronzer on ur cheekbones and collarbones to achieve that glowy sun kissed look

❤︎ when i think of cotton candy key west kitten doll i think of BEACHY WAVES and bubblegum pink lips so braiding ur hair overnight can help you to achieve beachy waves in the morning, and invest in a bubble gum pink/glossy coral colored lipgloss (i recommend candy baby 🍭 from victorias secret)

❤︎ use fragrances with notes of fruit and coconut

NOVEMBER TRENDS ;

one of my favorite trends this november is the women in male dominated fields trend. its been all over my tiktok and essentially the trend is just women behaving the way many men of today behave towards women and giving them a taste of their own toxic medicine.

this trend reminds me a lot of ciara's song "like a boy". some of my FAVORITE moments from this trend are as follows…💬🎀

♡ when hes pouring his heart out in front of me and i start practicing my jumpshot mid-argument

♡ when hes got tears running down his face explaining to me why my actions hurt him but i just ask him "why are u with me then" and carry on with my day

♡ when he catches me in a lie but i just hit him with the "alright believe what u want"

this trend puts into perspective the toxic and dismissive behaviors that are becoming more and more common and that are normalized in relationships, now that the roles are reversed. it also serves as a reminder of how important mutual respect and empathy are in any relationship.

[mooncakebun]

The hungarian edition of Qiang Jin Jiu Vol 1 is now in production and scheduled for release on the 6th of June🎉

Here is one of the five interior illustrations I did for the book 👁️

So excited 😭

For fellow hungarians, further info on the FB page of the publisher:

[crushmeeren]

࿐ megumi’s turn! dabi’s version can be found here. again, this is short and sweet so I could focus on editing, but I hope the pacing wasn’t too fast. it’s also softer than I intended it to be, soooooooooo enjoy. :D

⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere (ish?) vibes.

⇢ ⇢ megumi art by saucy britt ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing an oni mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as delusional about him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Whenever someone asks you “hey, what do you love about Megumi?”, well, a plethora of amazing things fill your mind. You could, and would, write love poems about that man for days.

But, there are two quirks of his that you love to mention.

First off, Megumi is truly horrendous at keeping secrets. His apathetic attitude may not broadcast that, but he’s a gossip. Only those closest to him know that it’s his guilty pleasure.

Secondly, if you looked up the definition of obsessive personality, Megumi’s pretty face would be pictured there.

You’re not complaining, no, you’re so in love with your boyfriend it makes you sick. It’s just, for as long as you’ve known him, he’s never had the ability to keep a secret. Not even to save his life. You’re privy to much more restricted info involving Yuuji and Gojo than you ever thought you’d be.

To piggyback off that, he’s also constantly worrying about your safety. He checks in on you often, and he gets this stormy expression whenever you refuse to take his concern as seriously as he wants.

The pathway to and from your work is all but seared into your brain. You’ve walked it alone so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. So you’re not quite understanding why now, of all times, Megumi has deemed it unsafe. You’ve remained unscathed thus far.

And that’s why, when your sweet, obsessive boyfriend began stalking you on your way home from work late at night in an Oni mask and hoodie to cover his hair, you felt…. flattered. Were you creeped out? No. Should you have been? Probably. There’s no denying that the thrill of it gets your blood rushing, and the adrenaline high gives you goosebumps. You enjoy it, for lack of a better word.

Megumi, you assume, is more than likely trying to make a point. As misguided as it may be. When you first saw the masked man the night after yet another argument, you reasoned it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. At that time there was no proof connecting him to Megumi, but you had your suspicions.

When he asked about your walk home that very night, his forced nonchalance raised a red flag for you. Still, you didn’t mention you thought it was him. You did however snuggle close to him and rant about “your stalker”, begging him to protect you. Megumi sure as hell resembled a self satisfied cat when you did.

Afterwards, Megumi ended up pinning you to the bed with your knees touching your ears, whispering about how he’ll kill anyone who touches you. Now he does that each time you mention seeing “the stalker”, on your way home. A win - win, truly.

Granted, you were still wary about whether it really was him or not for the first few incidents. Then he made the mistake of hiding just around the corner of the alley you frequently pass and you caught a whiff of his extremely familiar cologne.

Not to mention you found the exact same Oni mask peaking out from under his bed a few days later. It looked as though he shoved it underneath in a frenzy, confident that it would suffice as a hiding place.

It didn’t.

You pretended you hadn’t seen it, waiting until Megumi went to get snacks from the kitchen before casually kicking it further under the bed and out of sight.

Safe to say, you’ve been allowing this to go on for much longer than you should have. It’s been almost an entire month. You’re curious to know if Megumi has any hunches that you’re aware it’s him, if only because you haven’t mentioned hide nor hair of filing a police report about it. Which would be the next logical step that any sane person would take.

In the back of your mind, you distantly wonder if you should be concerned that Megumi is so obsessed with you that he’s willing to go to such lengths to push you further into his arms.

You end up shrugging it off because you can’t judge him too harshly. You probably would’ve ended up doing something similar sooner or later if he hadn’t beaten you to the punch.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Things come to head one night as you’re heading home.

The moon is bright, the stars are beautiful, but it does absolutely nothing to tame the trail of fire you’re leaving in your wake.

Work had been… enraging, to say the least. Your insufferable coworker had been on shift with you, and you’d seriously rather shove bamboo shoots under your nails than work with them.

They’re selfish, incompetent, a pick me, and you can’t fathom why your management keeps them on staff. Those motherfuckers.

After you had angrily tugged your coat on and gathered your things, you stormed out the door after having a rather heated conversation with your manager. You hadn’t checked your phone all night, and it completely slipped your mind to text Megumi when you left, as you usually did.

About halfway through your fuming journey the light of the street lamps bounce off of something shiny and it catches your eye. Your heart beat falters, head snapping towards the alleyway only to see a figure lurking in the shadows. Peering straight at you. The person is clothed in all black, hoodie securing their hair, but once you spy the Oni mask, you realize it’s Megumi. Again.

You roll your eyes, your only recently fading irritation sparking back to life. You exhale harshly through your nose, stuffing your hands further into your pockets and speed up. You are not in the mood to deal with this. The distance sound of sneakers scuffing the sidewalk as someone walks briskly has your fingers balling into fists.

Normally, the cold blooded thrill of being stalked switches your adrenaline into lust, leaving you drooling for Megumi by the time you get home. But currently it’s twisting into something ugly. The sensation of eyes constantly being locked on you has you desperately wanting to crawl out of your skin. It’s overwhelming, and not in a good way.

You speed up once more, jaw tightening to the point that your teeth may crack when Megumi matches your pace. You’re this close to breaking out into a jog as you turn the last corner to your block, but your ears start to twitch at the sudden absence of footsteps.

You whirl around ready to give your boyfriend a piece of your mind, but you freeze when you realize he’s gone. You grind your teeth in irritation because he obviously slipped away without you noticing. Clicking your tongue behind your teeth, you practically stomp past the last few houses toward your shared home.

Megumi better be ready to argue when he shows up.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

As soon as you get home you toss your stuff carelessly onto your bed and return back to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, you sit stiffly, shoulders tense as you perch yourself on the edge.

A part of your brain scolds you, telling you that your boyfriend doesn’t necessarily deserve all the built up rage from the day. Megumi isn’t innocent though, and he does play a part in the chaotic mess you’ve created, so it’s obvious you need to talk to him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Megumi to show his face. The door creaks as it opens and closes, your palms starting to sweat the closer he gets. Megumi calls out to you in greeting, but the silence is deafening when you don’t bother to reply.

Megumi rounds the couch and freezes when he eyes your tense posture. His face is carefully blank, eyes flitting over your figure as he gingerly sits down next to you. You barely spare him a glance, Megumi’s brows pinching in concern as you return your stare to the TV in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is apprehensive as he rests a large palm on your knee, slender fingers squeezing reassuringly. You stiffen under the touch, unable to stop yourself from glaring hotly at him.

“Why the fuck have you been following me?” Your tone drips with venom, the slightest bit of guilt brewing when Megumi’s head jerks back as if you slapped him, lips parting and eyes widening.

Okay, so you definitely didn’t plan to get to straight into it, but evidently you can’t hold your tongue.

“That’s not, I mean —,” he starts to fumble over his words as he tries to come up with something convincing. His fingers dig into your knee and you sneer slightly, shifting to grip his wrist so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Megumi,” you warn. “I know you’ve been following me. I found the Oni mask under your bed. Tell me why. Now,” you stress the last word and lock your heated gaze with his. His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face as he stays stiff for an ungodly amount of time. Just as the silence is becoming unbearable he wilts in his seat, sighing as his chin touches his chest.

Some of your fury fades when he lifts his head and looks at you with such sad eyes, a small frown on his mouth. Your hold on his bony wrist loosens considerably.

“I just,” he pauses, pursing his lips as he searches for the right words. “You make me feel, okay? Too much sometimes, and I get worried about your safety. I wanted you to see how dangerous it can be for you to be out there alone. I need you to need me, the same way I need you...” he mutters, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he averts his gaze.

All the fight drains out of you, chest welling up with a warmth so intense it burns the tips of your ears.

“Gumi,” you say softly, moving to tenderly cradle the side of his jaw. He leans into it, eyes hopeful as he reaches up to place his hand over yours. “I do need you. You’re the only one I trust to protect me. You didn’t have to stalk me to get your point across,” you say with slight amusement, resting your forehead on his.

Megumi sighs softly, lids lowering. “I wasn’t going to keep it up at first, but then… I started to like the thrill of hunting you down,” he admits, sparking the tension between you. The warmth in your belly turns you gooey as you process his confession.

You hesitate before answering shyly. “I…liked it too.” Megumi’s expression shifts into something more humorous, a faint smirk quirking his lips.

“Oh?” He teases. You bite your lower lip, trailing your fingers feather light down the side of his throat and his breath hitches.

“Yeah,” you whisper, catching Megumi staring at your mouth with a dark hunger. He smoothes his hand up to your inner thigh, inching his face even further into your personal bubble.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You moan lowly, tilting your head to get the perfect angle. Soft lips meet yours slowly, repeatedly, and the slick noise of it makes your pussy ache to be stretched by his cock.

You make out with your boyfriend until you’re seriously debating crawling into his lap and riding him right here on the couch. Delicately, you place your hands on his chest, the soft t-shirt brushing your palms, and you push to break the kiss.

“Go get the mask, Megumi.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s a rush to see who can get naked first.

Your clothes, and Megumi’s, are scattered along the floor of your bedroom. Megumi had eagerly pulled the mask from his back pack, and now you’re in bed spread out on your back, watching Megumi with bated breath as he slips it on.

Megumi has settled on his haunches between your thighs, adjusting the mask until it fits comfortably and covers his entire face. You have to bite your knuckles as he looms over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head while you stare up at him with stars in your eyes.

You’d practically begged him to make it rough, not wanting much, if any at all, foreplay involved.

You gently run your hands down the soft skin of Megumi’s taut stomach, fingers brushing over the thin patch of dark hair that leads to his cock. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, the decent weight of it against your palm turning you on just that much more. His hips twitch involuntarily when you squeeze playfully, slowly stroking as he moans your name.

Too soon he’s snatches your wrist away, causing you to pout up at him. He shakes his head and tugs your hand away from his dick.

“Turn over baby,” Megumi instructs, backing off enough to allow you to wiggle and shift freely until you’re flat on your belly. Your cheek squishes into the mattress, hands resting by your head, and your blood starts to sing when Megumi straddles the backs of your thighs.

The tingling sensation in your fingertips reminds you of the first time you had sex with Megumi, and it’s as if you’re experiencing that night all over again.

Your stomach clenches when a hard cock suddenly nestles against the swell of your ass. The smooth, warm skin dragging back and forth as Megumi rolls his hips for the friction.

“Are you gonna fuck me like this?” You ask excitedly. A sharp swat on the ass is your answer, a startled gasp ringing out as you fist the blanket.

“I never said you were allowed to speak. Bite your tongue unless I tell you otherwise, whore,” Megumi says coldly, spanking you once more to get his point across. You capture the tip of your tongue between your teeth and nod vigorously, your skin already warm to the touch and swelling.

The insult has your cheeks on fire from the inherent shame, but it feels incredible. Besides, you know he’ll be calling you a good girl soon enough.

Megumi shuffles down, rising up to his knees as he uses a thumb to spread your pussy open. It’s a slow press as he tries to work his cock inside you. His tip’s on the edge of popping in but then he slips, sliding down and bumping your clit instead. The jolt of sweet pleasure startles you, causing you to shove your face into the blanket and moan.

“Sorry,” Megumi snickers, but the bastard doesn’t carry an ounce of remorse in his voice.

He readjusts his angle, lining up his cock a bit better and then he’s sinking a quarter of the way into your tight pussy. It burns, you’re nowhere near wet enough to take him, and you think you could cum from the sensation alone.

He rocks his hips and steadily inches himself the rest of the way inside, using rolling motions until he’s pushed in to the hilt. Megumi decides to stay there, cock jerking and applying firm pressure to your cervix.

You hiss on your next inhale, a stab of pain making itself known. The feeling blends with the pleasure of being stretched so well and your pussy flutters involuntarily. Megumi gasps softly, supporting his weight with palms pushing against your upper back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight like this. You were made to take my cock,” Megumi praises, voice rising in pitch when you wiggle underneath him. You whine quietly in agreement, remembering to stay silent, and an approving hum comes from behind you.

Megumi looms over your back, fingers closing around your wrists to effectively pin you to the bed. He draws his hips back and snaps them forward powerfully, pelvis smacking loudly against your ass.

He builds up to a rough pace, the unyielding grasp on your wrist has your fingers going numb. Your boyfriend mercilessly pounds you into the mattress, cock pushing so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You cry out endlessly as overwhelming pleasure swells behind your bellybutton. You struggle to get free, but Megumi doesn’t allow you to budge.

If Megumi is making any noise, you can’t hear it over your own cries. Well, except for the few husky moans that spill unabashedly from his mouth before he can stop them. When you start to cum you shout his name so harshly into the sheets that it wrecks your voice. Your boyfriend curses hotly, slipping his cock free completely and flipping you onto your back before you can blink.

He pushes one thigh to your chest and shoves his cock back into you, his other hand latching around your throat as he leans in close.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking without permission?Are you deaf?” He snarls, the angry, distorted expression of the Oni mask becoming much more threatening in your fucked out state.

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, both hands flying to grip his forearm.

Megumi clicks this tongue and squeezes hard briefly before shaking himself free of your hold.

“You’re sorry?” He sneers, pressing his palm to your face and covering the entirety of your mouth and nose. He completely cuts off your air and your eyes go wide, a burst of panic building in your chest. You can’t fucking breathe. “I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to me. If you don’t want to pass out baby, you better cum on cock before you run out of air.”

You fist the sheets until you’re sure they’ll rip, eyes rolling back as Megumi fucks you into the mattress. The intensity of the situation and lack of oxygen fills your brain with molasses, ears ringing as your sole focus remains on cumming.

Mercifully, your pleasure starts to crest and peak into that familiar edge, the one that’s similar to the anticipation right before the big drop on a roller coaster. The smooth glide of Megumi’s cock continuously splitting you is more than enough to dangle you over the edge.

Your chest starts to heave, lungs burning as no air makes it way inside. You fumble with Megumi’s wrist, tugging desperately, but he whispers muffled encouragement through the covered mouth of the mask.

“C’mon, you can do it baby. You’re almost there, I can feel it. You’re such a good girl. Make that sweet pussy cum for me and I’ll let you breathe.”

The backs of your eyes start to sting, heart thumping so hard it pulsates throughout your entire body. Your vision swims and your thighs tense, Megumi’s nails biting into the sensitive skin on the underside of your thigh. White hot pleasure suddenly crashes into you, flowing like warm honey. The base of your skull digs into the mattress as you cum with a muffled scream.

Megumi immediately frees you and you gasp loudly, throat like sandpaper as you swallow oxygen the same way you drink water. The sensation of air filling your lungs drags your orgasm out ten fold and you start to push at Megumi’s chest when it gets overwhelming.

“Megumi,” you all but sob, pleading as you stare up at him with glazed eyes. He drops your thigh as he sits up, slipping his cock free with a hoarse groan as he strokes himself quickly. His lean body sags with relief as he cums, streaking your pussy and stomach with white.

He lets go of his still twitching cock, tip leaking pitifully onto the blankets, and pushes the mask off to throw it haphazardly aside. He pants harshly, cheeks scarlet as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair to keep it from sticking to his forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to regain your bearings. You’re sure a headache is on the horizon as you rub your eyes with your knuckles.

The air in your room is humid and stuffy, the only noise being you and Megumi trying to catch your breath. Your boyfriend eventually slides off the bed to find his discarded shirt from earlier. You stay limp as he helps get you clean, Megumi opting to crawl up beside you and lay on his stomach afterwards.

He twists his head towards you and you mirror his position. Your entire being feels like jelly and you sigh contentedly when Megumi rubs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“Are you alright?” Your voice is scratchy as the adrenaline wears off and sleep starts to seep into your limbs.

Megumi snorts. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who’s half asleep.”

You punch his shoulder halfheartedly and he laughs. “Whatever, can we go to bed now?”

“As long as you promise to take my concerns more seriously.”

“Fine, only if you promise not to stalk me through the streets like a lunatic.” Your eyes drift shut as you speak.

Megumi huffs. “Deal.”

“Keep the mask though, gumi.” You crack open an eyelid to smile playfully at him. Megumi lets out a startled laugh, but he agrees not to throw it away. He snuggles in close and kisses the side of your cheek several times.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ad perpetuam memoriam III

I II III IV

summary: taking on problem with only the help of a mysterious penpal and an unlikely savior type of post: series includes: riddle, jack, ruggie, silver, sebek, ??? additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu, this is all AU, not making predictions for how twst will end, a blood, vomit, tears, and other fun things like that, NOT EDITING THIS AGAIN IT'S BEEN HOURS

Dearest Reader,

I understand that today, the first of October, makes one month of tenure at Night Raven College.

I apologize, for I cannot think of any words of comfort.

I am pleased to hear that my study recommendations have kept your mind and hands at peace with one another.

And to answer your request as per your last letter, I am afraid I can't give you my name. Call me whatever would please you.

Yours truly.

The absence of a name and address on each envelope should trouble you, shouldn't it?

Your pestilent stay at Night Raven College has been plagued by names without form or face, words that weigh like stones in your stomach. Conversations with boys whose eyes hide when you speak, wanting for something, someone else.

You suppose this is different. This is a boy without a name, not a name without a boy.

Its words are his face, his delicate features the trembling of the quill, his body the paper, soft and pale, his clothes the envelope, which eternally smell of smoke.

These letters, cold and unalive, are your friends.

You're not as sure about their writer, though.

From what he'll tell, and from what he'll not, those lingering breaths between each word, the blank space beneath each line, which you must read, you know little things.

You know he pities you.

You know he knew the person that came before you.

But not well.

You know that two terrible things have happened to him.

You know that he wants to help.

And you'll catch yourself, in moments of pity and melancholy and cold, sweaty silence, with these letters held tight to your chest, as if they really were a person.

As if they really could help you.

You don't have a name for the boy, but you write to the post-box that makes the bottom line of each letter nonetheless. A paper person is still more of a person than you.

In this world, at least.

In his last letter, the one you had just read, he told you to give him a name. It's only a word, but what are words here if not weapons of a warring past? Giving a name is a holy act of sovereignty. This stranger has handed you his weapon.

You wield it awkwardly and call him "Smokey".

Your mind is still clouded from last month's fever.

"I don't get it,"

Silver lowers his sword. Sebek, leaning against the stables, scoffs.

"It's simple," Housewarden Vanrouge says, pushing his silver locks out of his eyes. How many times has he done that? He's nervous.

"Hands on the hilt. Remember, strength in your shoulders. Swing with your torso, and the sword will follow."

Sebek scoffs once more. "If they hurt themselves, I will NOT carry them to the infirmary!"

Lies. He would.

How strange, that you can make such assumptions about strangers, and with presence of mind. Have you tricked yourself into thinking you know them?

"That's fine. I will," Silver says, ignoring Sebek's schemes for attention. "And Riddle is here. If anything happens, he'll tend to them."

Riddle's eyes come from around his horse, narrowed and dark. He points his brush at you, accusing you of some crime you didn't commit. "Yes, but I would not like to have to tend to anyone, so be careful, would you?"

Sebek smiles triumphantly, and Silver rolls his eyes.

"Steady. Find your balance," the Housewarden mutters. The hilt of Sebek's sword slips from your hands. They're sweaty.

"Oops," you say, not all that sorry. Your shoulders ache and your arms are trembling from the weight of the sword.

"They tire!" Sebek shouts. "May I have my sword-"

You hand him the hilt with no further interrogation. Silver's shoulders slump. "Maybe next week,"

But you're already thinking up enough excuses to get you out of a year's worth of Equestrian Club meetings.

At least you got out. Sebek and Silver squabble about the sword, and Riddle brushes his horse, seemingly busy mastering the art of not listening to them.

It's a good day. The sky is blue, the wind smells sweet, the earth is soft and inviting. You could fall asleep here, if not for the nearby bickering.

At least you got out.

"I should go," you announce, both to yourself, and to your friends, the strangers.

Silver's eyes widen and his voice warms. He always speaks softly when it's to you. "Are you certain? We-"

"I'm going to see... uh... the Headmage. For a thing,"

Sebek and Silver share a look of antipathy, but neither say anything against you. You suppose they don't quite know how to speak to you- you, not a friend, not an enemy, not a dormmate, not a guest, but a ghost, something revered and respected, but that couldn't be touched, that couldn't be befriended, that couldn't be spoken to as if it were a person, like them, but a specter, a space between the walls, there but unseen and unfelt.

"...If you must. Take care,"

You weren't going to see the Headmage. Obviously.

He sought you more than you sought him, and only to yield the letters you'd come to welcome like warmth in the cold of winter. Crowley had committed himself to the daily ritual of delivering your mail, something that he had described as "an honor".

...For you, of course, not him; not just any student has the Headmage himself hand them their morning mail.

You know he's suspicious, and that's why he's been insistent on holding the letters before they're in your eager hands. They're undisturbed, unopened, though, confirming that Crowley doesn't read them. Good, you think. You don't want him to know what you've been saying about his college.

Your college, you figure. Though that still feels unfamiliar, unnatural, nothing in this world could ever really be "yours", could it?

You aimlessly wander the atriums of the castle, hand lost in the cavernous pocket of your uniform, the welcoming warmth of the last letter against your skin. It had been bent by your sword-swinging, crinkled, the ink smudged against the sweat and salt of your fingers.

Pity. You haven't thought of what to write in return, yet.

SMACK!

Your hand soars to your nose, you stumble and spin and eventually hit the wall behind you, bloody and startled.

"Oh, crap!"

You would have thought that your own body had become sentient and started talking, if a warm cloth hadn't suddenly taken your hand's place. "It's not broken, is it?"

You sound stuffy. "...No," How should you know?

This boy sighs, relieved, but not reprieved of punishment. He tugs off his tie, which is what he'd been holding to your nose to take on the trickle of blood that'd come from the collision with his head. "Here, I don't got a handkerchief on me,"

That's a first, you think. "Fanks,"

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says. It must be bad, if someone's being this nice to you.

The boy, blond and scrawny, digs something out of the deep pockets of his uniform and puts it in your hand. It's a crumpled wad of paper. "Uh... here, sorry again, but I gotta run."

Weird. But nice.

Maybe getting smacked was just what you needed.

You smooth out the crumpled papers on your dorm desk. The bleeding had long since ended, leaving you with a stranger's tie and six or seven emulsified, mulchy coupons for doughnuts.

Expiration: a month from now. You'll have plenty of time to appease your appetite, if you ever find it.

Fried foods would do awful things to your stomach today.

Knock, knock. Two soft raps on the door. It's Silver. "Hello?"

"Good evening," he says, his voice muffled through the thick oak. "...Are you feeling better?"

He doesn't know what else to say. Silver, and Sebek, and the others, are pressed by some imaginary commitment, a duty that tiptoes around you, silent and soft but not tender, but not honest.

You are, too.

"...I'm fine," you lie, scooping the coupons into a desk drawer and slamming it shut.

Silver says nothing. Has he left?

"...Did you need something?"

"Oh, yes," apparently not. "Jack Howl would like to speak with you."

Jack Howl? The name feels unfamiliar, even though you know who he is. "Why?"

"...I don't know," Liar. He only knows you won't like it.

You stand, anyway, pushing yourself to open the door and join Silver in the hall. He's holding something in his pocket, his hand tightly curled around it, quivering in the cloth.

"You okay?" you question, following him to the foyer- the lounge, that's what they call it.

"I'm fine," he says, and that's the end of that.

Jack Howl is waiting in the doorway, either too well-mannered or too wary to come inside Diasomnia dorm. You almost try to smile, but you can't seem to move any muscle above your neck.

"Thanks for comin' on such short notice," he says, "I-I didn't wanna have to burden you with this, but somethin's happened and no one can find the Headmage."

"Crowley?" you ask, giving him an odd look. "You can't find Crowley?"

He begins walking, obviously not wanting to waste any time standing in the door (or he just feels uncomfortable with the intense stare Silver's been giving him). You walk beside him.

"It's not that weird. It's a big campus," he mutters. "Could be working or 'somethin."

For some reason, you find that hard to believe. Crowley isn't difficult to find- if anything, he hasn't left you to yourself in weeks. You're sure if you rounded a corner he'd be standing there, perfectly happy to hand you another letter and exchange pleasantries.

"No one can find the Headmage" Psh.

"Why me, then?"

"Well, you, uh..." Jack trails off. "You spend a lot of time with him."

You give him another look, and he bites his tongue, tucks his tail between his legs, and turns away.

"What's the problem?" you try for a better answer than last.

"We, uh... um... housewarden situation,"

That's even worse than the assumption that you'll know how to handle a Headmage-level problem because you "spend a lot of time with him". You suddenly feel quite uneasy about leaving the mirror chamber, empty and quiet by this time of evening.

But, you're already here. And it wouldn't be good form to flee back to your bed and hide under your blankets.

You're not sure if Silver will let you get away with any more of that.

Savanaclaw, a place which you had heard the name of, which you had seen the striped band of, but had never beheld the body of, is as unsurprisingly surprising as anything else at this peculiar school: it's big, it's foreboding, it smells of blood, sweat, and sand.

You can hear the distant beat of barks and broken glass, the thud of bodies hitting the broad walls, shouts and cries that go beyond dorm bickering. You give Jack a look, this one worried, and unapologetically so; you think you deserve to be wary, this time.

"Don't worry," he says. "I just need you to talk to them."

You suddenly forget how to walk, your feet falling silent and sinking into the soft sand.

"Talk to them?" you repeat.

Jack's eyes widen. "Uh, yeah. I thought... maybe you might be able to... get through to them or something. I haven't been able to..."

"Me?" you say. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Why not? Why would you? Why would anyone listen to you? They won't even talk to you. They won't even look at you- their stares and stolen glances are hollow- they only see their own reflections in the whites of your eyes. You're nothing more than a piece of glass, broken from a beer bottle or a battered lightbulb, something worthless, tossed to the sea without a thought, without a moment of bothersome musing or emotion, to sink to the bottom, and to be smothered by the water. You weren't the waves that crashed at the walls of Savanaclaw; you weren't the tide that had brought you to them; you weren't even the careless creature that had tossed you here, whoever or whatever that may be, without a second of consideration. You weren't the storm above the sea, the one you could not see nor hear, but could sense in the trepid respite of the water.

You had nothing to give, and, then, by process of thought, you deserved nothing to take. You were nothing, and you would die this way. And here- perhaps not your body, but your spirit, your will, the thing that made you walk and talk and come with a stranger to solve a dorm problem past dark.

And all you had was that thing. All you had was yourself; if you lost that, if you became soft, if you forgot what it was like to have jagged edges and ugly curves, what made your feet stuck in the sand, what made your heart beat, if you became like the one who was here before you, weak and witless and pitiful and worshipped by their friends, the classmates who thought you could be Them- the soft, smooth, soulless thing that came from the parting sea and put itself on a shelf to be loved- then what would you have? Nothing. Not a thing but your body and the meat in it, a supermarket bargain, a deal, four for five donuts at participating locations.

The thought was as terrifying as the thought of being bitterly hated- and it all became very obvious, then, that Jack had asked for you because he wanted you to throw yourself into the sea, into the frozen aisle at the supermarket, and be beaten and battered by the waves, and to be bought and cut up into pieces one could swallow without chewing because it would make you smooth and small and easy to love.

It would prove to everyone that you deserved to be here- because you were worthy, and honorable, and selfless, and Good, and a someone like Them, something that could be loved. You could be made beautiful, like sea glass. And you had come because you wanted that, too. Didn't you? You want to be Them. You want to be loved like a child is, tucked in at night and protected from all the pain in the world. You wanted to be a dearly deceased, beloved and remembered.

Who are you? What are you? And what are you becoming?

You had been mirroring your classmates recently; their mannerisms, their movements, the way in which their mouths opened and closed as they wanted for words to say, yes. But you had been mirroring Them, too, this Someone, this smile, this unspoken name in the dark, because it was demanded of you. Because you wanted to be them, perhaps. Or because you wanted to be something- anything at all. A corpse is still a corpse, a thing you can touch, a thing you can dress and kiss, even without a soul or a light in its eyes.

It was easy to say that no one cared for you; that it was obligation, or bitter resentment, or both. But had stopped caring about yourself, too, some time ago, to be here; to be desperately trying to fill this role, to fit in these clothes, to find the eyes and hands of these people who were repulsed by the thought of seeing and touching you. You were begging for absolution, you were punishing yourself in penance for a sin that was never by your own hand; for weeks, you had been telling yourself that you were useless, unneeded, but that wasn't quite right. You were needed. You were simply unwanted, and that was all.

An unforgivable thing.

You shake yourself, and hunch your shoulders, and put your hands over your ears to silence the shouts of the students and the sound of your name, empty and meaningless, as you ran back to the mirror.

Somewhere between the mirror chamber and mail room, you remember yourself.

That is, your body, your presence, your place in the world and your proximity between each wall. You remember that you're a person, not glass, not meat, not a ghost, and not Them, and you feel your feet stumbling over one another, and you fall.

Nothing is broken, but you can't get up. And you're alone here, anyhow, the ache in your nose making itself known again, accompanied by a throb in your head, behind your eyes.

The endless, dark hall becomes blurry for a moment. Had you thrown up earlier? Your mouth tastes salty and bitter, like you had been drinking seawater, and your throat burns, but you can't remember having vomited.

You can't focus on anything. You can feel the hard, stone floor beneath your hands, but it's blurry, fuzzy, as if you had suddenly lost your vision, which would be a bad thing to have happen now. Not because you would have minded blindness- perhaps then you could have pretended you were somewhere pleasant- but because you had finally thought of a response to that letter.

You wanted to tell it- him, you mean, him (your head hurts terribly, now)- about the sword, this morning. How you kept trying to hold it, but your arms were too weak, and your will weaker, because you hadn't even wanted to swing a sword around while you felt sick, but you wanted to try, like Silver was trying for you. And how that had made you sicker, because you weren't doing it for yourself, and you weren't doing it for Silver, either, you were doing it for Them- this thing you didn't know, this thing you hated, this thing that was more human than you. The sword, the parties, the pleasantries, Jack, and Deuce, and Riddle, and Silver. You were living on someone else's behalf. You were being who you were supposed to be- you were becoming the someone that was wanted. But you were doing it badly.

You were failing at the one, the only thing they all needed from you. You couldn't be selfless enough, or friendly enough, or smart enough, or good enough, or anything, you couldn't be anything, to fit in these clothes. You couldn't be anything but yourself, and yourself wasn't what was wanted. Or needed.

But that thought only made you feel sicker.

You still don't remember throwing up, but you can at least feel the stuff beneath your bruised fingers, black and blue from the intensity you were holding the hilt of the sword with. Someone will have to mop this before morning, and you feel awful about that. You've been leaving messes all over the place, lately. Most of them have been of your mind, though, and have smelled much better.

You feel, for a moment, something come over you, something unfamiliar, and you wonder what would happen if you were someone else. Would your classmates come to your side? Would they kneel in your wettened woes without a care that wasn't for your own comfort? Would they scoop you up and carry you, magically or otherwise, somewhere warm and safe?

And you only realize that you hadn't been in someone else's body, you hadn't been having a dream or delusion of being loved, when you no longer feel weightless, when there's fluff and comfort beneath your battered and bruised body.

Someone had come for you, but it was not who you thought, or, rather, who you had really wanted. Which was silly for someone like you to complain about.

"Sleep, now, you must have taken quite the fall,"

You don't want to listen. You're sick of people lecturing you on who you ought to be, even if they never say the words aloud, even if they never even think them. Even if they're only felt, carved into their ribs and hummed by their hearts, in a song you aren't allowed to listen to.

Or, perhaps, that you can't.

But your body has had a will of its own, lately, and so it does as its told.

Dear Writer,

I have a name for you, but I've decided to keep that to myself. I think I rather like having something of my own here, something that no one else can have.

These last few days have been difficult. The Headmage says I have a concussion. He found me half-conscious and crying last night. I thought I had thrown up, I guess, but I'm fine. It's not too terrible, a few days of rest should help.

One of the dorms here doesn't have a housewarden, and a fight broke out last night. The Headmage and I have been talking about it, but neither of us had a good solution, until I remembered what you had said about your own school's student council- and an intermediate council has been elected for the dorm to democratically choose a leader.

So, thank you, I suppose. I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours truly.

[kaluxsims]

Yet again, a small thought spiraled into a fairly big project. I noticed a vertex weight issue with some old CU pants by @rented-space. I was just gonna fix them, but then I also wanted more cold weather bottoms for kids, so...why not do both together? The end result is an absolute ton of options that will continue in a second post. Sneakers now, boots soon.

If you only want the mesh edits for RentedSpace's pants, get that here: SFS or MediaFire

If you wanna download all of the pants in this post right now:

Download ALL: SFS or MediaFire

If you want a closer look, more info, pick and choose, etc...

For simplicity or something, individual downloads are below each of the previews. The big all together option is down at the bottom again too.

First up, JeansSlimChuck(s). This is an edit and a bunch of recolors for @rented-space's conversion of the TS4BG kid jeans, with hightop sneakers. I fixed the vertex weight problem and edited the shoes a little. The jeans textures are from @madameriasims4's Peter Pants, with five extra recolors by me. The mesh keeps RentedSpace's file name and will also update the jeans from this post and any other recolors using the same mesh. I'm not sure where the shoes are originally from. Everyday only, with fat morph.

Swatch here

Download: SFS or MediaFire

Up next, recolors and mesh update of RentedSpace's 4t2 EP1JeansSkinny with lowtop sneakers. More MadameRia jeans textures, but these are from her Gene Jeans. The shoes are from the H&M SP, with recolors by me. This mesh will also update Rented-Space's jeans found here, and any other recolors. Everyday only, with fat morph.

Swatch here

Download: SFS or MediaFire

And some sweatpants, with options. These are originally from this post too, BUT these two meshes will not replace the original converted mesh. For a fixed version of that mesh, look a little further down. I added a sized-down version of the TS4BG AF Crosstrainers, converted and recolored by me. I also did barefoot versions, which are repo'ed to the ones with sneakers. The pants have the little decals removed, and some (you guessed it) recolors by me. There's no standalone version of the barefoot ones. I weirdly couldn't get the Repo Wizard to make working standalone files and I didn't feel like doing them myself. Set as Everyday and Gym for the sneaker version and also PJ for the barefoot ones. Both have fat morphs.

Swatch here (same for both versions)

Download w/sneakers: SFS or MediaFire Download barefoot: SFS or MediaFire

Download ALL: SFS or MediaFire Download edited RentedSpace meshes: SFS or MediaFire

Credits: @rented-space for 4t2 mesh conversions, @madameriasims4 for jeans textures