#im only halfway through so far though

[buggzrfaeries]

people when they find out goth is actually about loving the death and the gross and not just dyed black hair and fishnets

[thrucrax]

the veilguard curse.....i just want to play older bioware games; ALSO small rant where i really started losing hope in the story

I HATE GAMES....that make you go through a dialogue tree only to leave you with only ONE option to choose. i am thinking of one conversation with solas where rook's final and only option of dialogue is "I will do whatever it takes" or whatever and UGHHHH

I HATE THAT especially when i'm trying to run a character that would NEVER say that???

ugh i love roleplay games that make you play a character you didn't at all make /sarcasm

this is just an excuse to make a post about how rambert would never "do whatever it takes", he won't lie even to save face or earn trust.

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[sirompp]

luca and babymouse would get along

[vamptastic]

MASCULINE METALLIC NOISES

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[ninthwonderoftheworld]

Guys im trying so fucking hard to read the new Scoops fic but my adhd is kicking my ASS

[hypno-matt]

Taking Notes

CW: Spirals, Edging

This morning I was talking to @mastern3ro about my love of spirals, especially being made to watch one and then post about just how blank it made you feel.

So I decided to turn that concept into an even better one.

The task I was given for this was simple. Watch a spiral for 20 minutes while repeating the phrase "I'm a needy hypnotoy." Very basic.

The fun part, however, was that i decided to track howni was doing every few minutes, in order to properly show what a sub goes through when they spend such time staring.

I figured I could use the Notes App to record how I felt every now and then, while using my PC to do all the heavy hypno-lifting.

I sat down at my desk, and put on my favourite spiral from an array of almost a dozen, pairing it with a nice looping set of binaurals.

I pressed play, and began taking notes.

"Minute 1: The spiral is pretty and the binaural is great but nothing too far out of the ordinary so far.

Succint and to the point. As every great piece of information should be.

Nothing had really happened yet, besides me starting to repeat my mantra, very quickly finding a rythm that did not require much effort on my part.

I continued staring for couple of minutes, unaware of what was going to happen down the line.

"Min. 3: mm it feels nice, its hard to focus on the spiral, the hournal, the repeatimg amd the audio. It feels lile im cinfusimg himself ><

Im a needy hyonotoy.."

And here i had encountered my first problem. I had uknowingly overwhelmed myself. The audio, the video, the repetition and the note-taking were fine on their own, but too taxing for my brain combined.

I couldn't really stop now though, I didn't want to give up on this idea so soon. Besides, this overloading, while tiring, felt pretty great.

I had to keep going.

"Min 5;

I aasumed a better position, my legs sprea andd my baxk hucnhed iver. Hunchedf. Over? Is that how you sau it? Theres so much to keep track of and my brrtain is laggign.. i thinkk

Ik. A needy hypnoyy :)"

My brain was lagging. But it felt amazing. Arousing, even. So much so that i had decided to sink into my chair and spread my legs a little.

The overloading factor of this task was in full effect. It was already hard to remember to do everything. To listen, to stare, to repeat and to jot down what i was feeling. My voice began to trail off, the cadence that i had built up going away almost immediately.

"7: i gott caught up in takimg photos thw light of the apirall is so prettty ans so is my facee"

Just after the 5th minute I had noticed how adorable I looked. How relaxed my body was, and how much my eyes were fluttering.

Plus, the light from the spiral was coloring my otherwise dark room in warm pinks and purples. I would have been a fool if i didn't take a few photos, even it if overloaded me more.

"10:ii look so pretyyy im drooling..

Im turned on the lighht so i can photo myssefl"

By this point, my mantra had escaped my mouth, now only occupying space in my quickly fading mind.

I lazily turned on the light, ready to look at myself again, only to realize that the spiral was all i needed right now.

I was halfway through. I had to stare.

"12: toyyy neewdyyt wdsgiunggg rewlwqttong is aurkmaric drooolimgg"

Toy was needy,edging and relaxing. Drooling automatically, my thoughts slowly leaking out.

When did i start edging? Or touching at all really? I had forgotten, but i did not care.

"13 ddrrooollinng ii sshhoyld kbeell.

Oii ttottyyy"

What was once "I'm a needy hypnotoy" became reduced to "I'm toy". Maybe I took "succint" too far.

It didn't really matter though. Toy had to kneel. It's what seemed most proper. It's what seemed the hottest. It had to be done.

"15 beeetyer onn. Mym kenes

Im aneedy hypnotttoot im soo good"

Toy felt better on its knees. I felt so happy, so empty, my blank face more apparent now than ever.

Toy was beggining to become completely broken.

"17 mmfmcm imm so bbapnk imm a needy hoypnotoy

I forgot ot repeatt

Mmy mouutu iiis so drooollyy.."

After a few minutes of looking at itself through its phone's camera, toy realized that he had forgot his mantra.

Its mouth was occupied with drooling. It didn't have the brainppwer to do anything else.Toy went even blanker as he stared so intently at the spiral and himself.

"18 mminnn ttook liiikeww nn hoyrr"

The 18th minute did feel like an hour. Toy's mind couldn't really grasp time anymore. It was almost there, just 2 minutes left, but the time felt like it took ages.

Toy didn't mind. It loved staring. Listening. Drooling. Taking notes.

Toy obeyed.

"220000 oiikmm gonnww

Ttoyyy

.........."

And just like that, toy was gone. Its mind completely cleaned out, its body relaxed. It finished its task, and it felt great.

Toy closed its computer, and went to bed, repeating the words "needy hypnotoy" to itself until its mind returned about 45 mins later..

It had a great idea to write all this down. Just reading through, seeing the reactions and remembering them fully, it makes toy drop all over again.

I'm a needy hypnotoy. Please use me.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

escape from isla nublar

words: 2.6k

warnings: jurassic world alternate universe, dinosaurs, violence, brief mentions of gore (but not detailed), illusions of sex but not actually written out, established relationship, soft!rafe, death tw, proposal, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks

a/n: im having a lot of fun with writing aus, so here! take another one!

“thank you so much for bringing me here, rafe.” you coo out, getting onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

rafes arm slides around your waist, keeping you tugged in close as the boat approaches the dock of the island. you squeal along with all the children gathered around impatient and ready to jump off the boat and explore.

“welcome to isla nublar!” the voice of a friendly sounding woman says over the speakers. “please disembark slowly and carefully and enjoy your stay in jurassic park!”

“baby, can i just say-” rafe begins as the crowd shuffles forward, most with bags in their hands or suitcases being wheeled behind them, but rafe has already arranged to have them brought to your room so you can get right to exploring. 

“mhm.” you hum, encouraging him to continue.

“that you've been so chill this entire trip so far. proud of you.” it might sound weird to anyone else, but you've always gotten nervous when leaving your home for too long, worried something bad would happen. rafe saw it on your first trip he took you on where you tried and very much failed to hide your anxiety.

“im so excited there's like no room for nerves.” you giggle as you walk down the gangway. “and the fact that you let me plan everything. you know how much i love a schedule.”

“we are so different.” rafe shakes his head, hand squeezing yours as you step into the concrete, turning away from the crowds heading to the resort and towards the main street and the iconic innovation center.

“opposites attract.” you state, and it couldn't be more true, but rafe loves you more than he could ever envision caring about someone.

as you round the lagoon, trying to see if you're able to catch a glimpse of the giant mosasaurs in its depths, you feel your excitement levels only elevate more.

“oh my gosh, there's the petting zoo entrance.” you turn and pout to rafe.

“isn't that mostly for kids?” he raises a singular eyebrow.

“i mean yeah, but you also get to pet baby dinosaurs. totally worth it.” you tug him towards the entrance.

--

“okay.” you sigh, placing your hands on your hips. “i guess we should slow down so we have things to do for the rest of the trip.” 

“im already exhausted.” rafe chuckles. “how about dinner then to the hotel?”

as tired as rafe is, he's certainly not going to complain about being run around isla nublar when he gets to see the gleaming smile on your face every time he looks at you.

“sounds good… we could go to winstons steak house,” you point in one direction, then the other “jurassic cafe, or the brachiosaurus restaurant.”

“how about whatever is closest.” rafe rubs his hand over his face.

“okay steak house it is.” it's your turn to take rafes hand. 

he barely manages to stay awake through dinner, and by the time you're back at the hotel, he's passed out on the bed before he can change into his pajamas.

--

“what would you like to do today?” you ask rafe. “anything but that hang gliding, you know how i feel about heights.”

“the gyrospheres look fun.” rafe shrugs and looks at the map pulled up on your phone. “or kayaking.”

“why not both.” you toss your phone to the side and cup rafes cheek, bringing your lips together in a kiss.

“you're the best boyfriend ever.”

rafe places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you down onto the mattress, laying you back.

“we can wait a little bit though, right?” the smirk on his face gives him away.

“i think that would be fine.” you giggle, pulling rafes shirt off over his head.

--

“that was actually so fun.” you hum out.

“it was when you let me drive and we could finally go fast.” rafe says. you were halfway through the gyrosphere tour when you handed the controls over to rafe, allowing him to speed through the ankylosaurus herds.

“but we will not be doing that on the kayak.” you hold your finger up.

“yes ma’am.” rafe says, slipping the attendant a $20 bill to move you to the front of the line, not wanting you to have to wait.

“life vest.” rafe says, slipping it over your head while he just grabs his and throws it into the kayak, not planning on putting it on unless something happens.

rafe helps you step down into the kayak, grabbing the paddle knowing he's going to sit in the back and do all the work.

--

“this is so beautiful.” you say, leaning back into your seat as you look at the stegosaurus and it's long neck reaching up to grab the leaves, his feet submerged in the water as you paddle past.

“this might be even better than the velociraptors.” rafe says.

“wait-” you sit up. “whats that sound? is that a radio?”

it takes a second for rafes ears to pick it up, but he can hear the frantic static of voices over a walkie talkie.

rafe continues to paddle, realizing suddenly that you've separated from all the other kayaks and can't see anyone. he brings the kayak closer to the side when he hears the radio as you reach out to pick it up from the muddy bank.

you turn the volume knob up as you try to make out what the voice is saying through the water logged speaker.

“we sent the containment unit out with nonlethal force and they're all dead! immediate evacuation, get everyone inside and back to the hotel!”

“rafe…” you turn towards him, eyes widening in fear.

“im sure it's just some kid pulling a prank.” rafe takes the radio, finding the speech button and pressing it. “what is going on?”

“who is that? this is an authorized channel.” one voice says before another cuts it out.

“whoever you are, seek shelter immediately. the indominus rex is on the loose, currently heading towards-” the radio sparks and then dies out.

“shit.” rafe hits it against his thigh, but it's clearly no use.

“rafe.” your voice is already shaking. “the indominus rex. i don't know what it is, but it doesn't sound good.”

“okay.” rafe stands up and steps out of the kayak, pulling it onto the bank before helping you out. “baby-” he places his hands on your shoulders. “i need you to stay calm. you know this island like the back of your hand. where are we?”

“we-” you take a deep, shaking breath. “we are halfway through the kayak adventure. we should head just west and find the road to the aviary.”

“okay.” rafe presses a kiss to your forehead. “let's go quickly and quietly. im sure they've already contained whatever dinosaur escaped.”

“yeah.” you nod, gulping, not so sure.

rafes steady hand stays in yours, helping you over bushes and downed trees.

“shouldn't be much farther.” you bite your lip, hoping you didn't get the direction wrong.

“hang on.” rafe whispers, placing a finger over his lips. 

before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he's tugging you down under a giant tropical plant, the leaves hiding you as you hear whatever rafe did, the pounding footsteps of dinosaurs.

“that's the stegosaurus we saw earlier.” you remember the distinct marking along its side.

“get over here.” rafe pulls you in tighter, not allowing you to see as he presses you against the stem of the large plant, covering your body with his own.

“it's okay, it's a herbivore.” you say, when you hear the second set of dinosaur footsteps following it. you tense up, and you can feel a panic attack setting in as you pick your head up to see some sort of giant rex running after it.

you both stay still and silent until it's clearly far enough away.

“rafe.” you tremble as you turn into your back, his body still hovering over yours, protecting you, willing to put himself in the line of danger if he needs to.

“it's okay.” his voice is betraying how scared he is as well, but he's going to try his best to not let you see it. “let's just get to the aviary.”

“i-i can't.” you shake your head. “im fucking terrified.” 

“me too, baby.” he says. “but we gotta get under cover somewhere before that thing catches up to the stegosaurus and comes back for us.”

you swallow deeply, eyes closing for a brief minute, gaining all your courage you possibly can.

“okay.” you're up and moving quickly, running towards the aviary. your steps are no longer balanced and cautious, moving quickly through the jungle until you make it through the trees to the grassy plane.

“the aviary!” you point at the large glass dome, just in time to see a helicopter careening into it, smashing a hole that instantly has pterodactyls flying out.

“shit!” rafe shouts, tugging you back into the treeline.

“we're gonna die.” you sob out, not able to hold back your tears as you crumple to the ground.

“no.” rafe says firmly. “i will not lose you.”

he knows he needs to move, especially as the pterodactyls come closer, and he doesn't have time to console you enough to get you ready to move.

rafe reaches down and pulls you into his arms, hugging your shaking form against his chest as he follows the same path of disturbed leaves and muddy footprints back to the river.

“i need you to paddle.” rafe says, glad your kayak is still in the same space. “i know you're scared, but you need to help me here. we need to go fast.”

you sniffle and look up at rafe, your big eyes filled with tears causing his heart to pang out in pain. “okay.”

rafe bends down, pressing your lips together in a soft and caressing kiss before climbing onto the back of the kayak.

you both immediately begin to paddle hastily, not knowing where the next meat eating dinosaur could be.

“the river goes underground then should let us off near main street.” you tell rafe, eyes briefly closing to envision the map in your head before putting your entire focus back onto paddling.

“baby, still.” rafe says softly, both of you pausing as you look upwards, seeing pterodactyls wings flapping over, thankfully not seeming to notice you under the treetops, yet you still wait until they pass over before beginning to paddle again.

“there's the cave.” you say, pointing as the river bends and you head underground, lights strung along the cave ceiling as you paddle underground, able to take a deep breath now that you're under cover.

“are there any dinosaurs in this cave?” rafe questions, helping you move back so you're leaned against him. 

“shouldn't be.” you say, eyes closing as your adrenaline drops now that you're mostly safe.

“go ahead and rest.” rafe hums as he paddles, looking down at you in relief.

--

“y/n.” rafe shakes your shoulder and you sit up with a gasp, looking around, waiting to see the indominus rex charging at you.

“it's okay.” rafe says. “we're just leaving the cave.”

“so that wasn't all just a nightmare?” you sit up, knowing you must not have been asleep that long, but already feeling majorly refreshed.

“im afraid not.” rafe sighs as you grab your paddle to help steer.

“so this let's out…”

“near the resort. we should be safe there.” you squint into the dying sunlight as the kayak leaves the caves and enters into the large man-made lake.

you both quickly steer to the side, glad to be out of the kayak and on your own two feet.

“to the resort.” you say, able to tell that there are still people running from main street in that direction.

rafe is about to toss the paddle back into the boat when a screech comes from overhead and you both look up to see a pterodactyl perched over cave entrance.

“run!” rafe yells, not turning his back from the dinosaur to see that you haven't moved an inch, not leaving him.

the pterodactyl lunges forward just as rafe swings his paddle at it, hitting it in the beak, but it only enrages the dinosaur more.

you move quickly to grab your paddle, joining rafe in hitting at it, keeping the snapping beak away from pecking at your skin.

“baby, go.” rafe grunts out.

“no! im not leaving you.” you keep slapping at its beak and head until it gets annoyed and roars before taking off to the sky.

“fuck.” rafe groans. “i hate dinosaurs. sorry baby.”

“that's okay.” you say with a slight laugh. “i don't think i like them that much anymore either.”

you take off towards the resort, keeping your oars held tightly in your hands, just in case any pterodactyls try something.

“onto the ship or into the resort?” you question, seeing people trying to get into both.

rafe opens his mouth to respond when a roar rips through the air.

he looks around quickly, pulling you into taller grass, not having any other close cover.

“some of the gates must be down.” you whisper.

“why?” rafe questions, not doubting you as his eyes search through the field before you point at the crowd of people, even more frantic as you watch from a distance.

“because there's a metriacanthosaurus.”

the name makes rafe blink harshly before he sees it, the dinosaur flinging people around as it takes advantage of the hoards of people trying to get to cover.

“oh my god.” you cover your mouth, watching as the carnivore rips someone in half.

“don't watch.” rafe pulls you further into the grass, tucking you against his chest.

you close your eyes and focus on his arm wrapped around your shoulder instead of the screams.

“i got you.” rafe whispers, free hand tapping his shorts to make sure the box is still there in his pocket.

“i know.” you press your lips into his neck. “i know.”

gunshots ring out and rafe looks out of the grass to see that the dinosaur has finally brought down and everyone is safely inside.

“okay, let's run.” rafe helps you stand, deciding to head towards the boat instead of the hotel, knowing it's just one step closer to getting you safe.

you take off in a run, entering up the gangway you went down just yesterday morning.

“inside the cabin.” one of the staff says quickly, ushering you through the glass doors into the packed hallway of people, but rafe keeps moving, tucking you into him until you're towards the front of the boat, able to move up a level and find a place to sit down.

“we're okay.” you say as you relax into the sofa. “we’re alive.”

“i love you.” rafe says, head dropping to your shoulder. “im never talking you on another vacation like this again, but i love you.”

“and i thought you were protective before.” you chuckle, breathing out heavily.

“really ruined my whole plan though.” rafe knows that you both just experienced a trauma that will no doubt need to be unpacked later, but you're just happy to be safe inside the cruise ship.

“what plan?” you lift your head up.

“not the best time but-” rafe sits up and pulls a box out of his pocket. “i planned to ask you in front of the waterfall, all romantic and sweet. but i don't want to waste a single moment longer.”

rafe flicks the top of the box up to reveal a glimmering ring. “will you marry me?”

you let out a squeal and jump into rafes arms, “yes!”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[wszczebrzyszynie]

Hey!! Could you give a little context about this drawing??: https://www.tumblr.com/wszczebrzyszynie/770499218761711616/brutus?source=share

Btw, beautiful drawing <33

thank you for the kind words and the interest! its a bit long as i went into more detail about the relationships between Kowalewicz family members... thought that might be nice, as i dont really share much about them. peace and love. its under the read more

its Eliza in three stages of her life; childhood, her wedding day and present time (around 1895). "Brutus" is a reference to the song by the buttress because its the song i associate with her (mostly in her relationship with Artur and her former husband). Shes the oldest of the Kowalewicz siblings and the one who against all odds ultimately inherited the palace, even though she seems to stay as far away from it as possible; as a character she doesnt come back until spring, so about halfway of the story, but her presence is always there. The main theme of DNS is loneliness and she as the owner of the palace is kind of the epitome of that; someone who felt sidelined for the majority of her life and even after decades have passed isnt able to feel normal and create what she considers "normal" relationships (the way she treats Stanisława and Artur come to mind; The first one is her lover she leaves in charge of the palace when shes away, unable to stay with her for long periods of time, and Artur is her brother she somewhat hates, mostly for being what she couldnt and for depending on her). Even her child-self is meant to resemble Mika (titular ghost of the attic), as being a "ghost" is the repeated motive for loneliness (all "ghost" characters, so Mikita, Eliza and Jelena are the ones whose loneliness is so central to their character it fundamentally changes them). The blood on her wedding veil is there because she killed her husband (family friend and Arturs artistic mentor). it sounds like a lot but its not very important to the main plot, it happened ages ago but its probably one of the many reasons she doesnt like the palace. but well she would never get rid of it either

since im already talking about the Kowalewicz family i feel like i should also mention Piotr, the other brother; hes not really too important to the story but he does show up and Eliza hates him as well. He got richer through foreign investments. Eliza doesnt really like her brothers in general but with Artur its more quiet and she still respects him, with Piotr its more open and well known among everyone living and working in the palace. which isnt a lot of people. He doesnt like her either and would like to buy off the palace just to spite her. Well he doesnt like Artur either. Artur doesnt care for whatever Piotr is doing but hes slightly hurt about his relationship with his sister, though he is also intimidated by her. Not exactly because of the murder hes always been a bit intimidated by her but well the murder doesnt help? but he doesnt hold that against her either. Stanisława is intimidated by all of them except for Eliza, though i imagine she has a rather lovely relationship with Helene even with the language barrier. Helene and Dominic only know Eliza; she likes them both, though its a pretty distant kind of "like". its just generally positive but nothing deep or special, though she always tends to treat women better, and she also isnt the kind to hate on a 13 year old. also i think i should mention Mikita in the picture? I feel like she couldnt care less about what he does. I wouldnt be surprised if she forgets hes there. Not in a malicious way shes just like that i suppose. Stanisława likes him plenty for her own reasons. He respects both of them deeply and tries not to cause them much trouble

[fishermanshook]

ASK: pretty pretty please… fools gold.. smut if you can.. I CANT KEE EDGING TO HIM WHENEVER I MATCH AGAINST HIM 😞💻 I GOTTA TAKE HIS CRYSTAL ROCK COCK

ROCK HARD!

( fools gold sex h/c’s ) + gn!reader

# MINOR WRITING SMUT , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

I suppose it is your fault, you shouldn’t have underestimated your boyfriend's ability to fuck you raw in his bedroom, not caring who hears either of you or if his Survivor counterpart walks in as you do it on his bed. 

His opposite shouldn't be back for a while though, as he's stuck in a match against that Ivy chick. Guess you'll just have to stick it out for a while, huh? Don't worry, he'll make it worth the wait. 

꒰wc꒱ 535

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who is undoubtedly rough with you in the bedroom. Leaving marks in their wake decorated across your soft and delicate flesh unlike his own. Bruises from your last session have only just started to fade away to make room for more to come.              (He doesn't mean to hurt you, it's just that you're so much tinier than he is and he can't help but toy with you a bit.)

↳ on top of this, jealousy runs through the Hunter's veins. The cuts and bruises and hickeys and whatever else he does to mark you up is an indication of who and what you belong to. He can’t stand watching you interact with the other Survivors and, hell, that pesky Prospector who takes up far too much of your time. Time that could be better spent splitting you in half. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold is such a tease too. He'll mess around with your tiny little body and force you to leave for your match all hot and bothered. It's all part of the plan though because it means you'll just come crawling back to him for relief, not realizing what you're getting yourself into. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who loves to get messy in bed and uses his hands and fingers to make you cum 1, 2, 3 too many times, leaving your body overstimulated and all too sensitive to his rough touch. It doesn't matter how many times you beg or whine or claw at the rocks on his back, he doesn't stop. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who is always the one on top. It doesn't matter if you start it or end it, you'll always manage to find him towering over you with that same devilish smirk that adorns his face. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who has the stamina of a 10-time gold place Olympian runner. He can go all night and then morning and then night again if called for. But know that once he starts, he won’t stop. The little sympathy he has goes toward calling it a night after round 5 or after you've passed out in his arms. He gets it, it's hard having a boyfriend who could last longer than he could. (Norton.)

The sound of keys unlocking the door pulls you from your aroused state as both you and Fools Gold turn your head toward the door. 

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Norton sighs while turning his head up towards the roof. 

"Speak of the devil, could you leave? We're kind of in the middle of something." Fools Gold says, still halfway inside you as you cover your body in embarrassment. 

"That’s it, both of you, OUT!" 

note: I picked this up b/c I thought it'd be interesting especially because I've never written for him before,,,also annon im going to haunt your dreams now b/c you didn’t read rules (I’m calling you rocky annon now if you ever decide to send in something else)

also you guys help I have 37 (36 after this post) drafts

(2024) ©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[hannieehaee]

hiii could you do an au where svt reacts to their partner doing the don't go insane by dpr ian belt dance challenge haha love your posts ♡!

their partner doing the don't go insane by dpr ian belt dance challenge

content: smut, mentions of bondage and choking, mentions of sex, etc.

wc: 919

a/n: thank u so much anon<33 hope u enjoy!

masterlist

seungcheol -

he didn't see it coming, though he should have. you'd already be halfway through the dance by the time he realized what was going on, becoming a mixture of flustered and annoyed at you doing something you knew would get him to blush and look away. despite his initial flustered state, he'd drag you to the bedroom after, now taking off his own belt to tie you up with.

jeonghan -

at first he'd be shocked but he'd quickly recover and just smirk at you throughout the duration of the dance. would lean back and manspread, simply enjoying the show. oh? you learned a whole little choreography to try and seduce him? it'd give him a huge ego boost, motioning at you to come to him when you were finished.

joshua -

also super cocky about it lol. this probably wouldnt be the first time either of you tried to seduce the other, so he wouldng be too shocked at the sight. he'd still be unable to prevent the obvious hard on invading his pants, even becoming shameless about it and getting you to come sit on his lap after you finished, giving you a teasing kiss and telling you you had to take care of the problem you caused.

jun -

he's always done similarly sexy and provocative dances for his solo songs (and also just svt in general), so he was quite used to seeing such dances. but not from you. so when he realized what dance you were doing, he'd have half the mind to stop you, knowing that he ran a great risk of getting uncomfortably hard at the sight.

soonyoung -

he'll either hype you up or sit there staring up at you dumbly. if managed to not become hypnotized by the sight of you doing that dance, he'd hype you up and try to copy the dance right after you were done (and would do it perfectly on the first try bc he's knwon soonyoung)

wonwoo -

completely frozen at the sight. it's not that he wasn't enjoying it, he just wasnt sure how to react at first. but then he'd spot the smirk on your face, which would trigger a mean side of him that would only come out on special occasions. he'd have half the mind to interrupt your dance and bend you over, but would wait to see the entire thing, maybe even asking you to do it again and again, refusing to fuck you until he was satisfied with your show.

jihoon -

he knew you were some sort of detriment to his health (you affected him far more than he ever liked to admit), but he never thought you'd take his breath away so easily. one thing was to do a sexy dance or try to seduce him in one way or another, but it was a whole other thing to wrap yourself in a belt and give him 'fuck me' eyes while doing so. this 🤏 close to cumming in his pants.

seokmin -

when you told him you wanted to show him some new tiktok dance you learned, he assumed you meant a cute little twice choreo or something like that, not a dance that involved picturing what it'd be like to tie you up. this would quite literally ruin his life, as he would now think about choking you and tying you up on a daily basis.

mingyu -

if you wanted to play around with a belt and have yourself be tied up, you could've just asked. he wouldve been willing to deliver. but no, you had to go and do this whole dance that had mingyu salivating at the sight of you, knowing he couldnt touch you until you were finished. would pick you up and throw you on the nearest bed immediately after, taking the belt with him for research purposes.

minghao -

as the resident tiktok challenge doer, he knew of the dance. he had considered doing it but thought it'd cause too much or a ruckus online if he did. so he absolutely wasn't expecting you to suddenly start doing it in front of him. im 100% convinced minghao is into bondage (i have no evidence but also no doubts), so he'd really enjoy the sight of the belt wrapping around your neck and wrists.

seungkwan -

another member who thought you'd be more into cute dances, not whatever the hell this was (but please keep doing it, he'd think) his eyes would widen so much theyd take up half his face as they tried to avoid your own seductive ones. would become so shy and sheepish at you, mumbling compliments to you afterwards but still avoiding eye contact to not reveal his red cheeks.

vernon -

oh, nice, a tiktok challenge. wait. oh. oh. what were you doing with that belt- oh! you'd catch him completely off guard the moment you wrapped the belt around your neck, making him sit up straight and pay full attention. he'd get hard without meaning too, being fully out of breath when you finished your dance.

chan -

laughs in shock. just does not know how to react. it was a bit hypocritical of him, really. seeing as he's constantly doing dances that are quite sensual in nature. but this was different. you had caught him completely off guard, knowing he'd become a complete mess at the sight! you were playing dirty! would still beg you to let him hit afterwards.

[m2ok]

Golden Salvation Pt.2

pt. 1 Pt.2

cowboy!Ghost x m! reader

A/N: There will be one more part to this just to wrap everything up :)

Your pulse thundered in your ears as the stranger loomed closer, hand gripping lethal iron at his hip. Fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive - this was no ordinary burglary; you could see it etched in every predatory line of his body.  

This man had come for blood, your blood.  

Slowly, you raised your hands in a gesture of peace even as your mind raced. One wrong move and you’d be pushing up daisies come morn. These were the dark shadows Simon lived in, the enemies he’d made through his notorious work. And now they were coming for him...through you.  

.“Don’t want no trouble, mister,” you said, keeping your tone calm and even like you didn't know why this man was here. As if there could be any other reason for someone to break into a home as dingy as your own. “Just a simple bartender is all – barely got a dollar to my name”  

This snake didn't need to know how deep your bond with Simon went, especially since hiding your relationship was the only way you could see to get out of this situation.  

The man cackled at your words, rolling his eyes as the smile dropped and he stalked closer to the bed, aiming the gun at you as he cocked it back with a sickening crack.  

“ Mhm... as if you weren't all nice and cozied up to him not mere hours ago – ya really think im gonna believe you?” He gave you a mocking grin 

 “No no im not stupid sweetheart. Im not here to collect any of his debts from you – I care more about the eight men o’ mine your Ghostie killed. Those boys were my family, he didnt think twice about that though when he shot em’ dead where they stood. Figure I should make him feel the same hurt I do, hm?”  

“You won’t hurt him none-” You tried to reason “His heart don't belong to me, he won’t spare a second glance past this cabin. Hell, He's probably halfway across the desert by now” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, lies seeping through your lips at the risk of your life. You knew what you meant to Simon, no one else was able to get into his space as you did- at least not if they wanted to walk away with their life.  

The man's smirk dropped, new anger burning in his eyes as the grip on his gun tightened, “I saw the way that mongrel looked at you, you’re his boy and that's clearer than any mountain river” he scoffed, finger moving from the side of the gun to rest on the trigger.  

You closed your eyes, praying in your head, but not to any god. No, your prayers were aiming for Simon's rescue, praying that he would somehow know you were in trouble and come rescue you from it. 

Simon sat astride his horse on a dusty ridge, watching the moon rise silver over the desert wastes. A half-smoked cigarette dangled idly from his lips; he’d been nursing the same thoughts over and over since dusk fell heavy as a shroud across the badlands.  

 Thoughts of you.  

Somewhere deep in his gut, an uneasy feeling roiled. Like an invisible string tugging at his soul, trying to tug him back the way he came. Simon growled low in his throat, frustrated with his own foolish longings. You���d made your stance clear – this life wasn’t for you, not truly. And he had no right to ask you to join him.  

And yet... 

A crack suddenly split the still night air. So faint and far that any lesser man may have missed it entirely, but not Simon.  

In an instant he was vaulting onto his horse’s back, boots pounding twin paths in the dirt as they flew towards the distant lights of your little town. Another shot rang out, louder now, and Simon’s blood turned to ice in his veins.  

He knew that sound – deep in his bones he knew something was horribly wrong.  

Choking the reins in a near stranglehold, Simon rode as if all the demons of hell were nipping at his horse’s hooves. Towards you. Towards salvation or damnation, he did not know. But by God, no son of a bitch was gonna harm one hair on your head if he could still help it.  

Help was coming- you just had to hold on.  

The man fired the gun, a sharp sting hitting your side before it blossomed into agonizing pain. You let out a pained cry, one hand instinctively going to land on your wound while the other covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. Your hand was soon coated in dark crimson, entire body shaking with adrenaline as the man cocked the gun once more.  

“Was gonna just end you, but I figured I should make this painful the same way he did. Should fill you with so many bullets he won’t be able to recognize you” he hissed, aiming the gun at your other side.  

Simon was little more than a blur of dust and primal fury as he crashed through the remains of your splintered front door. For a split second, time seemed to freeze – taking in the scene with a single, piercing gaze.  

You,curled onto the bed clutching a bloody wound. And him. That snake. Gun pressed sickeningly against your body as he spewed his venomous threats. With an almost guttural roar, Simon’s Colt leapt into his hand like it was part of his very being. Two blooming shots rang as one; his aim was true as bible scripture.  

The intruder pitched backwards, scarlets blossoms exploding from where his eyes once were. He was dead before he hit the floor.  

But Simon saw none of it. Already he was at your side, tatty serape ripped and pressed desperately against your weeping injury. Brown eyes wild and scared met your own, and for a moment the steely outlaw facade slipped entirely.  

“Darlin’...” he choked, voice thick. “Talk to me, baby. Stay with me now, ya hear?” Working frantically to stem the flood, Simon tangled scarred fingers gently through your hair, anchoring you to this world with his touch alone. 

“That’s it…keep breathin’, just keep breathin’” His voice dissolved into ragged prayers mere ghosts could hear. Help was still minutes away - but for now, you had Ghost. And he’d be damned before he let the reaper take you from him. 

You were sobbing, your brain mangled with confusion and fear as the adrenaline ran out and the full pain of the bullet lodged in your abdomen had you reeling, 

Red painted everything around you, hands, clothes, and sheets underneath you drenched in it. 

“Simon-” you rasped, breathing labored as you looked around with wide eyes at the gruesome scene in front of you. It was too much, you could feel your head going light- brain fuzzy and ears ringing as you fought not to close your eyes. 

“It hurts” you choked, trying to shove his hand away from where he was pressing down on the wound to stop the torrent of blood flowing out. “Simon I cant-” you said, throat raw from the sobs that came out. 

You wanted so badly to stay with him, to be able to wake up tomorrow with him, but you didn’t know if you’d get that with the way you felt your strength leave your body.

“It hurts- it hurts” You were almost begging, for what you didn’t know. You just wanted the pain to go away. 

You were terrified- not ready to die yet, and especially not like this, not when you had so much left to do. The thought alone sent a new set of tears streaming down your face, hand shaking- clutching the bleeding wound on top of Simon’s own to try and ebb the pain that burrowed deep in your skin. 

Simon felt his world crumbling as your agonized crimes tore through him, sharper than any bullet ever could. Seeing you in such anguish ripped open a fissure in his battered heart, letting the demons of his deepest guilt and self-loathing spill forth in a torrent. 

“I know, baby, I know it hurts…” he choked, pressing you close as if trying in vain to absorb your pain into himself. His own broad shoulders shook with ghosts of rage and grief, tears cutting rivulets through the dirt caked on his cheeks. 

Goddamn it all, he should’ve been here. Should have followed his instincts and never left your side. Now it may be too late to hope for forgiveness, your blood staining his hands a brand of failure he could never outrun. 

“Please, darlin’, please hold on…’ Simon begged, voice breaking as he spoke. His bandana was wrung out and useless now - in desperation he moved to cradle you fully, applying trembling pressure with his bare hands and what remained of his coat. 

Distantly he heard the clatter of the approaching horses, but paid them no heed. You were fading, slipping away before his eyes, and all the strength and guns in the world couldn’t stop it. 

“Don’t ye leave me now…I can’t do this world without ya…” A broken whisper, barely audible above the thunder in his ears. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the same ragged breaths, two souls more tangled than any root or vine. Hanging on a blade’s edge against the dark. 

You stared up into Simon's eyes, eyebrows cinched in pain and eyes soaked with fear. 

“I don’t wanna die, Simon” you whispered, voice shaky as you clung to him - like he alone could save you from this fate. 

You could feel your heartbeat slowing, breathing ragged as you gasped for air that just wouldn’t enter your lungs….

Soon enough the doctor burst into the room, medical kit in hand as he came barreling over to you. He very carefully took you out of Simon’s arm with some convincing, to lay you back on the bed before he opened up his kit. 

He handed you a flask filled with whiskey “You’re gonna want to drink this - it’ll help ease the pain” He said. 

With shaky hands you drank the bottle, a scream ripping from your lungs as the man began to carefully dig into the wound, grabbing hold of the bullet with sterile tweezers before carefully pulling it free. 

With practiced care he cleaned the wound, a harsh whimper leaving your lips at the sting of pain before the wound was stitched up and bandaged. 

You were shaking, sobbing so hard your throat was raw and your lungs burned - the pain was unbearable and a large part of you wished you could just die to get away from it. 

The doctor had you drink another flask, the alcohol numbing the pain receptors in your brain just enough to allow you to fall into a light sleep. 

Simon sat vigil at your bedside through what felt like hours, not letting go of your limp hand once. Your cries of pain echoing loud and endlessly in his mind, driving spikes of pure anguish deep into his soul.

He watched in heavy silence as the doctor worked, breath caught tight in his chest, hardly daring to hope. But then - your ragged breaths evened out, color returning sluggishly to waxen cheeks. Alive. You were alive. 

It was nearly two hours later when the man was done, wiping his hands on a rag as he stood up on shaky legs. 

“He’s stable” The doctor said simply

Choking back sobs of relief, Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of gratitude-laced kisses amongst salty tears. “That’s it, darlin’...you fight. Got too much left to do in this world.” he’d whisper to you, voice so soft only you could hear

 “Most important thing now is cleaning that wound twice a day lest it get infected. If it does…” The doctor ordered, his words trialing off though his intentions were clear. He put down a set of bandages and cleaning solution on the nightstand for Simon’s use. 

“It’ll take a long time to heal, I reckon” The doctor said “but my work is done here, y’all know where to reach me should he take a turn for the worst” He said, tilting his hat to Simon before he gathered his tools and headed out of the shabby cabin. 

Simon took the doctor's words as gospel, nodding along to every word before the man left. He spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess that was now your little home. He dragged the body out back to deal with fully in the morning, cleaned your sheets and changed you into new clothes, boarded up the broken window, and finished by fixing the door that he had come barging through. 

His own hands were gentle as churches doing their appointed duty, cleansing and dressing the angry wound each time without fail. Whatever it took to coax your stubborn spirit back to the land of the living. 

Days bled into each other without notice. All that mattered to him now was you. And slowly, so slowly - full color seeped back, fever broke its hold. Eyes fluttered open to meet his own once more, full of pain but oh-so-blessedly alive. 

“Hey there, sunshine…” Simon whispered hoarsely, like a parched man dying of thirst at an oasis. Finally, finally, he allowed himself the ghost of a weary smile. 

You were going to be alright. And by God, he’d spend his last days making sure of it. 

You slowly sat up, a soft whine leaving your lips with the movements as you aggravated the still raw wound. “Simon” you mumbled as you held his hand, reaching over to take a swig of the whiskey on the nightstand to ease the searing pain. 

You rested your head back against the pillows with a soft sigh. It had been a few days now, and the pain was still a dull yet constant ache in your side. 

You took the sight around you in, everything was clean and neat including your bedding and clothes. Even the floor had been mopped, the only reminders of your near death being the hole in your side. 

“Simon you did all this?” You asked simply, eyes wide as you gazed up at him. 

Simon huffed a soft, weary laugh at your question, gently squeezing your hand just to make sure you were really here and he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Course I did, darlin’. Weren’t about to let ya recover in filth,” He replied gruffly. Truth be told, tending to your every need had been the other thing keeping his demons at bay these long days and nights. 

Keeping busy spared him time to think - and thinking led down paths too bleak to tread. Like how terrifyingly close he’d come to losing you forever.

Holding your gaze with quiet intent, Simon softly brushed calloused knuckles along your cheek “Reckon it’s about time i started pullin’ my weight ‘round here proper. Ain’t no safe place for ya out here alone” A question lingered in the subtle quirk of his brow, the hopeful yet wary gleam in tired eyes. After all that had passed between you both, was there still room for him at your side? A Ghost finally ready to lay his soul to rest, if you’d have him. 

You could only hum softly at his words, sleep still filled in your bones. You didn’t answer him, instead you patted the empty side of the bed “Come sleep next to me, Si. You need the sleep” You said, your words a silent confirmation that you still wanted him. 

Simon gave a soft grunt of approval, too weary in body and soul to do anything but obey your gentle prompting. Careful not to jostle your healing injury, he stretched his long limbs out beside you with a satisfied sigh. 

It felt strange but right, sharing your space in such an intimate way after so long living apart. Like the final piece of a puzzle slipped neatly into place. 

Turning his head, Simon watched you watch him through half-lidded eyes, drinking in every beloved feature as if to confirm this wasn’t some whiskey-fueled dream. Reaching out, he lightly touched the graceful curve of your cheek before letting his hand come to rest against the steady rise and fall of your chest. 

“Sweetest sound there is,” he murmured, voice sleep-roughed and thick with meaning. A tousled head tucked itself beneath your chin with a contented sigh, tension seeping from tense muscles. 

Come what may with the light of dawn, for now all was peaceful. You were alive, you were safe. And against all odds, Simon had finally come home to roost. 

You held him close in your arms, gentle fingers carding through thick hair as you let his head rest against your now steady heartbeat. He needed the comfort, you could tell, and you were more than happy to give it to him. 

“Rest now, Si. I'm not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me that easy” You assured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

It was a funny thing, holding such a toughened man in your arms, keeping him close and coddled despite the almost laughable size difference. 

SImon made a low sound of gratitude at your soft reassurance, melting bonelessly into your gentle embrace. Your gentle fingers winding through his hair brought forth a wave of lethargy he’d fought to stave off this long week past. But no more - here in your arms, he was finally allowed to let his guard down. 

It still struck him sometimes how two souls so disparate could fit together so seamlessly. But you’d always had a way of easing even his most ragged edges, soothing demons he thought long beyond taming. Lithe as you were in your current state, your strength ran deeper than any show of force ever could - and he found solace there like nowhere else. 

“Missed this…” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible even in the stillness enclosing your little world. One arm curled protectively around your middle, thumb brushing idle patterns against the slowly healing wound beneath the bandages. 

A prayer of thanks on parched lips, Simon let weary eyes slide shut. Sleep rose like a gentle tide, carrying him off to oblivion sheltered in the piece of heaven he’d begun to call home. You’d brought him back from the brink of darkness once more, anchor in the storm. And for that, he was eternally grateful. 

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - part 1

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara finds herself in a weird place in the museum

warnings: none

word count: 1700+

author's note: this was a request (find here)! hope u guys enjoy :D the english major in me really popped the fuck out in this one 🤭

next part

Spending a rainy Sunday in the Museum of Modern Art was far from what Tara wanted to do, but she had been outvoted by the rest of her friends, all of whom thought that it would be fun (well, all but Chad, who wanted to stay in and have a movie marathon).

She found herself wandering aimlessly through the halls, glancing this way and that at different exhibits, though nothing really piqued her interest. Sam and Danny had escaped to the Egyptian gallery, Chad and Ethan were exploring the gift shop, Mindy and Anika had rushed off on their own almost as soon as the group walked through the front doors--if Tara had to put money on it, she would guess that they were making out in the bathroom--and Quinn was flirting with the ticket booth guy.

Tara pulled her phone from her back pocket.

Tara (3:46pm): can we go soon im bored

Sam (3:48pm): Danny and I are only halfway done!

Chad (3:49pm): anyone got some extra cash??? really want this weird t-shirt

Ethan (3:49pm): i got u buddy

Mindy (3:51pm): fh2p9hr2$!8tn

Sam (3:51pm): Mindy, what?

Mindy (3:52pm): sorry butt text

Mindy (3:52pm): me and nika r busy

She huffed when no one in the group chat seemed to be on the same wavelength as her and shoved her phone back in her pocket, continuing her shuffling. She wasn't even sure where in the museum she was, and she didn't really care.

Or, at least, she didn't care until she heard that voice.

"And here we have a painting depicting the celebration that occurs in the beginning of one of Shakespeare's earlier plays, Titus Andronicus."

Tara looked to her right, where the voice was coming from, and was met with a large sign that read Pop-Up Shakespeare Exhibit! She frowned. Shakespeare? she thought. Seriously?

"Now, this celebration is quite important to the rest of the play as..."

The voice was luring her in. Okay, maybe I can dig Shakespeare.

She wandered into the room, eyes flitting around as she searched for the person that the voice belonged to. Instead, she was met with numerous paintings of different scenes from Shakespeares' plays, or people that influenced him or were important during his time period.

And why the fuck is this man so iconic? she thought as she quickly scanned over each painting, finding nothing extraordinarily special about them. This shit is boring.

Still, she ventured farther in, determined to find the reason she had entered the exhibit in the first place. She wasn't, however, paying much attention to her feet or the paces in front of her, and the next thing she knew, she had bumped into someone else.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"It's okay! That's my bad!" you replied, and Tara's eyes widened as she glanced in your direction. You were the voice that she was trying to find, and now that she had found you...well, she wasn't really sure what to do.

Honestly, she hadn't expected you to be so, in layman's terms, hot, and she could feel herself blushing up to her ears as she stared at you, awestruck and nervous and itching to talk to you all at once.

You offered her a wide grin and gestured toward the painting the two of you had ended up in front of. "Big fan of King Lear?" you asked.

Tara glanced at the painting. Two men stood in a vaguely grassy area, one old and the other younger. The older one had his arms thrown out, and despair was clearly controlling his emotions. The younger one was simply standing back and watching. What the fuck is this shit? she thought before realizing that you were awaiting her response.

"Yeah, definitely!" she lied. "It's probably my favorite Shakespeare play."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Really? You strike me as more of a..." You trailed off as your eyes flitted down her body, taking her in. Tara gulped. "I would say Twelfth Night kind of girl."

Tara shrugged. "Well, I can be surprising." She pointed lamely at the painting. "Besides, I love history plays."

"Oh!" You raised your eyebrows as your eyes widened, and you chuckled. "King Lear isn't a history; it's a tragedy."

"Right! I--That's what I meant," she rushed out, trying to backtrack. "But, I mean, couldn't all of Shakespeare's plays technically be histories? They're all old."

You giggled, and Tara found that she liked that sound even more than she liked your voice. "That's not really how it works." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and glanced at the watch on your wrist. "If you want, I could give you a tour through the exhibit and explain some of the plays to you. My next group isn't coming for another hour."

I would rather Ghostface pop out of one of these paintings and attack me than have these boring-ass plays explained to me. She wanted to say that--god, did she want to--but you were looking at her with a soft smile and even softer eyes, your hands buried in your back pockets as you shifted on the balls of your feet, and her reply was tumbling from her lips before she could stop it.

"That would be great!"

* * *

You were only halfway through the exhibit, talking about some lady named Portia who could only marry the man that chose the correct casket--how fucking stupid, Tara thought--when you turned to her, a pitiful smile pulling at your lips.

"You find this boring, don't you?" you asked, though there was no judgment in your voice. If anything, Tara could detect a hint of teasing.

She shook her head. "No, no. Portia and Bassanio and caskets are all very...interesting." When you tilted your head at her, your eyes sparkling with disbelief, she sighed in defeat, allowing her shoulders to slump slightly. "Yeah," she admitted, "it's kind of boring."

You shrugged half-heartedly, a crooked smile on your lips. "That's okay. Shakespeare's definitely not for everyone." You looked back at the painting you stood in front of. "I mean, even I hated half the plays when I first read them."

"Then why are you a tour guide for this exhibit?"

"Money," you confessed. "I'm a broke college student who has tuition to pay for. Plus, I've read all of these plays ten times over, so I know them pretty well."

Tara wrinkled her nose. "Why would you subject yourself to that?" she asked. "I couldn't even imagine reading these plays once, let alone"--she gestured in the air--"as many times as you've read them."

"I'm an English Lit. major, so it's kind of my thing." You sighed in a dreamy sort of way, and Tara couldn't help as her eyes flitted down to your lips, her tongue dragging across her bottom one. She quickly shifted back to your eyes when you looked at her. "But it's not everyone's thing. I get it."

She frowned. "Sorry if I, like, wasted your time."

You waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I like talking about the plays, and if anything I said in the last fifty minutes got through to you, then I did my job."

Tara nodded. "Oh, it definitely did. Yeah, I learned so much about Shakespeare today," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You chuckled. "Sure you did."

She took a deep breath in and then rushed out, "If I could prove to you that I learned something, would you let me take you on a date?" She watched as your eyes widened in surprise before being narrowed by the smile that took over your face.

"Okay," you agreed. "I'll ask you a question, and if you can answer it, then I'll give you my number. How's that?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "That works."

You glanced around the parts of the exhibit that you had taken Tara through, and she watched as you thought for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration and your hand scratching at the side of your neck.

"Oh!" you said after a minute. "I've got it." You turned to her, a wicked smile on your face. "In Twelfth Night, what's the name of Viola's brother?"

Oh shit, Tara thought. I should've listened harder when she was talking about that play. But it's not my fault she looked so cute when she was talking about the different theories of human gender.

She blinked at you, trying to come up with the name, or, frankly, any name that you had mentioned during your little tour. You waited patiently, watching her as the gears turned in her head.

Orsino? No, no--that's the Duke. Was it Cesario? Toby? Malvolio? None of those. Oh! It was--

"Sebastian!" she practically yelled.

You giggled at her enthusiasm and pulled the pen from your front pocket. As you clicked it open, you said, "I guess you do listen." You took her arm, pushed up her sleeve so that you had enough skin to write, and jotted down your number on her forearm. She looked at it when you were done, blushing at the sight of a poorly-drawn heart at the end. "Text me, yeah?"

"Totally," she breathed out. "Yeah, I'll do that. For sure."

"Okay." You glanced at your watch. "My next tour's starting in, like, a minute, so I've gotta run." You quickly looked around the exhibit and, upon finding no one near, leaned close and pressed a short kiss to her cheek. "Bye!"

Tara was left in the center of the Shakespeare exhibit, watching as you walked back toward the entrance, with a burning cheek and butterflies stirring in her stomach. She looked at the portrait on her right.

"Shakespeare, you're not good for much, but apparently you're good for getting cute girls' numbers," she muttered.

bonus: "so, what exhibits did you go to, tara?" sam asked as the group sat in a little coffee shop down the street from the MoMA.

"uh, the shakespeare one," tara mumbled.

everyone's eyes widened. "what?" came the resounding reply from all of her friends.

"you hate shakespeare," mindy stated.

"yeah. when they tried to teach us about it in senior year, you literally left the classroom," chad said.

"why the hell would you spend all your time in a shakespeare exhibit?" sam asked, furrowing her eyebrows at tara.

anika reached over and pulled at tara's shirt sleeve, revealing the numbers hidden beneath. "i think that might be why."

tara groaned as everyone started talking over one another, asking questions (sam) and squealing (quinn and mindy) and grumbling (chad and ethan).

"god," mindy started when everyone was finally quiet, "you are so gay, t."

[boxbugdotcom]

poo poo pee pee oooohh you wanna tal;k about mumscarian asooooo bad ouuhohhhhh you wanna discuss tehem and tyour headcannons on them SOOO ABADDDD

OUHH I WANNA TALK ABOUT MUMSCARIAN SOOOOO BAD

(guys, obviously this is not about the content creators, those are real people. this is all about the characters!! ty 🫶)

guys literally ENOUGH trying to chose between Grumbo or Scarian or Redscape. they all have two hands. And it’s not Just Grumbo + Scar or Scarian + Mumbo, THEY ALL HAVE WONDERFUL CHEMISTRY!!

Grian and Mumbo CLEARLY like each other— summoning circles and bothering each other every single day (not so much this season), they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, love being around each other— a good example could be in secret life, Grian’s first task to make bad puns and have no one laugh. And what did he do?? Immediately goes to find Mumbo, despite knowing Mumbo is the world’s giggliest person!! Another one is Mumbo’s complete and total regret when making that deal with Grian for his permits— when he took the bit too far and Grian backed out he felt so bad about it!!

Scar and Grian, I mean. C’mon. We have everything about third life, and then double life— and they have such a fun teasing sort of relationship! They laugh with each other and poke fun and that’s how they are !!! They are NOT bad for each other or mean to each other or anything, they play off of each other and don’t hold grudges for their bits. Like the snails bit, or the on hold bit (all from this season), they’re just ! fun and playful together.

Mumbo and Scar are absolutely wonderful together ! their personalities work well together and they’re so hilarious— i love me a crazy bitch (scar) and the seemingly normal guy said crazy bitch totes around with him (mumbo). That’s not to say Mumbo’s normal, he’s only regular because everyone around him is batshit /j still though! Scar does all his crazy shit, and Mumbo’s along for the ride bc they like hanging out together! Mumbo loves Scar’s builds and takes inspo from them, they based next to each other on magic mountain, they’re just so !!

And let’s not forget !! the buttercups! All of season nine! The fact that they’ve based together every season since Grian’s joined!!!

as for headcanons i. literally could talk for hours about it but my phone is dying and its late,,, so have this short list!!

- Grian falls asleep in the sun SO often and whenever Scar or Mumbo finds him, they just ! join him !

- Scar’s the strongest, Grian’s the lightest, and Mumbo’s the weakest. Grian has hollow bird bones and therefore is really light ! Mumbo just is,,,, such a twink im sorry its gotta be said. He may haul redstone components around but he is NOT buff. Scar is buff okay it just Makes Sense. He can pick both Grian and Mumbo up easy

- Mumbo’s the most easily flustered, and Grian and Scar tag team flirt with him SOOOO OFTEN. It just ends in Mumbo being a red and stuttering mess

- Mumbo also is the worst at flirting— Grian’s the best, and Scar isn’t good at it but his insane demeanor and strange behaviors are so captivating to the other two. Mumbo cant flirt to save his life. He once tried a simple pickup line on Grian and forgot how it went halfway through. He’s tried to flirt with Scar and fell face first into the dirt.

- Mumbo still has insane loserboy rizz and autistic swagger. how??? no one knows! but his nervous demeanor and autistic rizz bagged both scar and grian idk

- The Buttercups was a resistance to Doc, yes, but it was ALSO Grian and Scar inviting Mumbo into their relationship. Mumbo did not realize this until FAR into the buttercups. He was not complaining

- On that note, Grian and Scar were dating first, absolutely. After 3rd life??? there was no way they weren’t. But they saw Mumbo, in all his autism, loserboy, anxiety disorder swagger, and both fell head over heels.

- Mumbo has like. Always been in love with Grian and Scar. Since they became friends, basically. But he was nervous to say anything, and then they were dating, and it was okay! Mumbo was absolutely smitten, but it was manageable. He loved them both so much— it was a bruise that only hurt when you pushed on it. But he loved being around them! He loved being their friend, so it was okay! He was their friend, and he loved them, and he was okay with that

- Of course, they DID love him back. Mumbo just didn’t realize that,,,, for a while,,,,,

I’m sure i could come up with more! but like i said it’s late and i need to sleep lmao

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 11.

Summary: It's good to finally getting back home to Saltburn. There's just a few things to work out, such as where Oliver's staying, and why.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: implications of child neglect

A/N: 3989 words. I think about Jacob Elordi saying that Felix would have Artic Monkeys on his personal playlist, about once a day. um okay so not only is this uneditd, but i definitely got very drunk halfway through it, so that's.... that. (im drunk as i publish this) BUT WE'RE AT SALTBURN AND OLLIE GETS HERE TOMORROW!! (which means the next chapter, which dw will be tomorrow irl) ((is this anything?? im worried its ooc please feedback??))

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

There is no reverence in you anymore for the castle in the countryside that is Saltburn.

Once it had towered before you, trembling, a child alone in every way that mattered until the doors opened before you. Saltburn was a haven away from the bitter hypocrisy of both expectations and apathy, though it took you quite some time to learn as much. At first, there was reverence; Saltburn was the place where every script you'd learned to smile through, every societal expectation you'd been trained to uphold, would be put to the test.

And if you couldn't keep up, if you messed up in this holy house in the face of their kind smiles, you were sure their gazes would turn blank with inevitable disappointment.

But that was years ago.

And mistakes made you interesting, your quirks made them laugh, and Saltburn became less holy each Summer as you found it to be far more human.

It's what occupies your mind for the entire trip back to Saltburn, with you and Felix sharing an earbud each from his iPod, and Farleigh reading - pointedly not not ignoring Felix after he'd found out the news.

You wonder what Oliver will see in the house; the sum of it's parts, or each room and inch of the grounds as their own storage space for memories worth so much more.

Felix hums along under his breath like nothing in the world could ever worry him. Farleigh licks the tip of his finger, glancing with ire at his cousin for just a moment before turning the page of his book. Play. You squint at the cover; Richard the Third. Shakespeare. Farleigh holds the play up further to hide the rest of his face from you both.

You'll get to the station before midday, and a town car will be waiting for you all. Most of your things from Oxford are on their way to a storage facility in the city for the Summer, but you've still got a few precious things you're bringing back to the estate in a suitcase a the front of the carriage, and a bag overhead.

Felix has been trying to look nonchalant and look out the window for a good part of the trip now, but he keeps glancing at you with a strange look.

"Does this change us?"

This time, you make sure to catch his gaze before you reach for the iPod. Most of the ride has been on shuffle, quiet otherwise between you two, if not for his humming, or yours. Flipping through the few albums he had saved, you clicked through to the one you had been looking for. The sunshine is beating down on him just outside the window, almost directly overhead, shining on him and everyone in behind him in the window seats, painting them in sharp relief if they had their curtains open.

You pressed play on You Probably Couldn’t See for the Lights But You Were Staring Straight at Me by the Artic Monkeys.

Felix, who knows and loves the song, can't look at you. Actually, properly can't look at you, hiding his embarrassed smile behind his hand as he forced himself to look out the window.

And you hum along, grinning, leaning just past him to also focus your gaze out the window.

"Stop that," he mumbles under his breath from behind his hand, clearly still smiling. All you do is continue to hum along as the band thrashes along in your heads. After a moment, you slide the iPod towards him, as if taunting him, daring him to change the song himself.

"- they're not half as bad as me," you sing under your breath. Felix is turning pink around the ears, but flips the iPod over onto it's face, letting the rest of the song play out, "say anything and I'll agree -" your smile grows wider and you sit back, but continue to hum.

If Farleigh's judging either of you, he doesn't lower his book enough to indicate as much.

The town car ride back to the estate was far more eventful, as the three of you began to properly discuss Oliver's impending arrival. Apparently he hadn't thought much about packing up his room at Oxford, what little there apparently was to pack up, so he was taking the extra day students were allotted to gather himself together for the Summer. That meant one night at Saltburn before he'd be there.

"I actually, genuine can't believe you sometimes," Farleigh had started two separate tirades in the past twelve hours exactly like this, and both about Oliver. It was no secret what this third was going to be about, "you honestly couldn't give me six weeks of peace? Six weeks?"

"You'll have plenty of peace, mate," Felix had insisted, eyes wide and pleading with his irate cousin, "and honestly, I think you'll really start to warm up to him."

"I appreciate that your optimism springs fucking eternal, Felix, but -"

"No, seriously, give him a chance outside of all the academics and what everyone else thinks," Felix was beginning to plead for a moment, all big brown eyes and imploring tone of voice. Farleigh, however, was not as well swayed as the rest of the world would be by his theatrics.

"I'm not going to play nice with your little -"

"Hey, he might be into that," you cut Farleigh off before he could say something too incendiary, but Felix still cast his frown between you both.

"Not helping, Y/N," he admonished, turning back on Farleigh who was suddenly overcome with mild revulsion at your implications. When Felix wasn't looking, you wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively, teasingly adding to the bit. He fake-gagged, much to Felix's disappointment.

It wasn't a long journey, however, and soon enough the three of you were pulling into Saltburn, and there was something amusing about the collective sigh of relief you all shared once the door opened.

"Feels like ages since we've been back," Felix stretches, leaving his bags for the chauffer and doormen, as did you. Farleigh made a start towards the trunk of the car before the chauffer climbed out, giving him a confused look and he thought better of it.

"Christmas, right?" Farleigh stuck his hands into his pockets, sauntering up the steps beside you all, gazing up at the large, blue doors.

"Duncan taking his time," Felix muttered under his breath after a moment, to which you grinned.

"Probably wants to keep them closed on us as long as possible," though just as you say that, as Farleigh and Felix snicker, the doors creak open, and there, gaunt as you've ever seen him, Duncan somehow manages to loom impressively large, even as you've grown into an adult.

"Master Felix," he nods to each of you with the same stern civility he's always carried, "Master Farleigh, Captain Y/N." You nod in turn, voice turning cordial as you greet him warmly, despite your two companions barging through ahead of you.

"Duncan, always lovely to see you," you incline your head towards him the way you always have, and for a brief moment he allows himself a faint, but genuine smile.

"God, you're so fucking weird sometimes!" Farleigh calls over his shoulder at you. You roll your eyes, but Duncan is stone-walling again, so you slip past him to catch up. In time to hear Farleigh's voice lower and ask, "have you told your mother yet?" Felix makes a face.

"I texted her before we got on the train," it sounds uncomfortable, "she sent me an incomprehensibly long text back which I only got when we had service again. I think she's fine with it."

Farleigh hangs his head, his last defence against Oliver's impending arrival foiled. After a beat, he forced a smile, sliding up to get in step beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Oh, we're gonna be best friends this summer," he tells you, as if you have no say in it, "you, me, and my fucking weed guy -"

"Say it fucking louder why don't you," Felix rolled his eyes, but you simply shook your head at the altercation, wrapping your arm around Farleigh's middle and giving him a squeeze.

"You're impossible, Farleigh," you told him, "and so lucky I love you."

Farleigh quietly cheers for what small triumph he had won, before both you and him look to Felix's vaguely sceptical expression, taking in the both of you.

"It's a fair trade," Farleigh told him easily, "you get your new best friend Oliver -" still yet to say the name without disdain, you note, "- I get Y/N."

"I did also promise Venetia I'd spend some time with her," you chime in, but Farleigh can't help himself but snort.

"You sure she won't pick a fancy for Oliver too?" You can hear his lip curl, but Felix pulls ahead where he's been casually leading you all through the house to his room. You can't see his expression.

"Fuck off, Farleigh -" you start, coldly pulling away from him, but Felix's tone is light, almost forcibly casual as he cuts you off.

"Ollie's lovely but I don't think he's much of her type."

"Everyone's Venetia's type," Farleigh spits, unable to stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth. The implication hangs in the air for a long few seconds before Farleigh catches himself. The unneeded reminder. The real reason for the sudden coldness. Felix turns, smiling bright with nothing behind his eyes as he cheerfully tells Farleigh -

"You know where your room is, right?" And says he's going to rest before hunting down the rest of the family amongst the estate. Farleigh meekly nods, and departs from you both. Both you and Felix follow him with your eyes; Felix's smile doesn't drop before the door closes behind him, and it's the two of you in the blue room, alone.

And you know he's thinking about Eddie.

You wish Farleigh knew how to keep his mouth closed, how to stop pressing buttons when he always knew what they did.

"Where's Ollie going to be staying?"

Felix's eyes flash to you, and you wonder if it were the right or wrong question. Is there a question in this moment that isn't loaded? Is there a question you could ask that wouldn't make him think of Eddie right now?

Eddie had stayed in Felix's room. In Felix's bed. At least he was supposed to. But Oliver wasn't Eddie, so he needed his own space.

Oliver was different to Eddie, you reminded yourself, and hoped that Felix was thinking it too. That was good. That was good.

"Dunno," Felix finally admitted with a sigh, draping himself over the cream sofa, looking up at the ornate ceiling. You sat on the stool for the broken piano, lifted the lid and idly played a few notes, listening to the little hammers in the instrument tap uselessly against broken strings.

"Vennie wouldn't do that again, would she?" Felix muttered so quietly you almost miss it. He doesn't call his sister Vennie often; you know he's dwelling, he's hurting the way he tries to pretend like he doesn't.

"Farleigh's talking shit because it's his job at this point," you tell Felix flatly, and he angles his head towards you, even if it looks like it hurts, so you see him contemplating, "but Ollie isn't Eddie."

Something lights up in the back of your mind as you read faint disappointment on Felix's face as he processes your words. Nodding, he sighs again, looking up at the ceiling.

"Last night was fucking beautiful," Felix's tone turns wistful; he hasn't told you properly about what happened between him and Oliver, but clearly it went well, "I hope Ollie likes it here." Then, closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath before offering, "I've been meaning to thank you, actually," he admits. You shift from the piano stool to sit on the arm of the sofa he was laying across, "for giving me space to spend those moments with Ollie last night."

His face scrunches up a little, then, as if sensing you by his head, he cracks an eye open. Slowly, almost embarrassed, he starts to smile.

"He's like you, you know?" He says gently, before he really considers what he means, and his face falls; you watch, you wait patiently, "can't go home ever again," apology in his eyes, "that's what he said to me."

There's that love, that desire to do good, to be good, that Felix has always craved. He's in his own head, all kinds of thoughtful and melancholy that he often isn't around the rest of the world. Felix shuffles himself over on the plush, wide sofa, making himself as small as possible, and you know it's an invitation. One that you take. It's awkward, but he holds you tightly so you won't fall off.

You wonder if he even realises that you're there, that you're in his arms and listening to the way his thoughts spill out of him from a moment of connection he craves but doesn't often get. If you're so much of his mental wallpaper that holding you like this, the way you listen, the way you are so gentle in these moments, if you're more like a simple diary, an easy, comfortable way to get these thoughts out of his head without the fear of his secrets being spilled upon someone who might use them against him.

"I don't think I'll ever understand not being able to come home," Felix admits softly, "I can't even wrap my head around how Ollie became the man he is with parents like that; and after all he's gone through, for this to be straw, the thing that means he'd rather live in a world alone than be around the people - person - who was mean to love and protect him and yet failed him over, and over, and over again? He's so bloody strong for how long he's gone through it all."

Swallowing hard, you're surprised by the way your eyes are clouding over. Trying not to break the moment, you press your face against his chest; Felix doesn't seem to notice, still trapped in his own thoughts, but he instinctively holds you a little tighter.

"'Home' doesn't mean the same for you as it does for me," Felix whispers softly, almost to himself, and it hits you square in the chest. The tears start to come, and you can feel them dampening his shirt, "that's what he'd said to me," oh, Felix hadn't even realised you were crying.

It takes another half a minute before he even seems to realise something is wrong, but you assured him you were fine, that you were just very glad that Oliver would be staying here instead for the Summer. He'd almost connected the dots at the start of the conversation, but now he couldn't seem to see them.

Still, you knew Felix, and you weren't sure if his heart could handle making you cry twice in two days. So you lie, and he lets it go.

Felix is sitting up and stretching, his mood having improved for having voiced his thoughts it seems, and you're drying your eyes when the door to the Blue Room opens.

"Darlings, Duncan just let me know you'd arrived and were on your way to freshen up before the afternoon," Elspeth was as bright and flighty as always, looking between you both, "so glad I caught you both." Felix is the first on his feet, warmly greeting his mother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, which she returned in kind. Seeing your red-rimmed eyes, she's immediately concerned, but you brush it off quickly, telling her that you and Felix were simply discussing Oliver's situation and that you were incredibly excited to have him joining you all. She, of course, lit up at that.

"It will be such a treat, if I'm to believe my darling son," and of course she is to believe darling Felix, everyone at Saltburn always did. His admiration was worth it's weight in gold to the people who loved him, Elspeth especially. She latches onto the elbow he doesn't offer and you're left to catch up to them as they make their way through the familiar rooms to Felix's, her voice filling the space all the while.

"You must tell me all about dear Oliver," Elspeth insists; she, like her son, was made for Saltburn. She catches the light, beautiful and timeless and made to live amongst its timeless walls. Your face still feels hot; you don't know why but you feel out of place - home doesn't mean the same thing for you as it does for me - Felix pet's his mother's hand on his arm and assures him that she'll love Oliver. He's thoughtful. He's gentle. He's beautiful. Her eyes shine; even his mother is not immune to his light.

"Now, I hope you don't mind," Elspeth begins when the three of you get to the long gallery before Felix's room, "but it was rather last minute, so it's been something of a rush to get everything ready -"

"Get what ready?" Felix asks, and you watch them like a play, like a film, like a third party without any kind of say.

"I thought it would be best if Oliver stayed in the room attached to yours," Elspeth said, and it takes a moment, but you feel your stomach drop. This was worse than last Summer; at least then you had your own room.

"Y/N's room?" There's some victory to be taken in the way Felix seems ready to fight for you in this matter.

"Oliver is a guest, dear," Elspeth didn't even look at you in this moment, "we didn't want to have him set up, all alone, on the other side of the house." She smiles, and gives a fond, if condescending look over her shoulder to you, "you'll be alright, won't you sweetheart? It's just a bedroom, it's not a big deal." You try and smile, and nod, and be placating -

"They can stay with me," Felix insisted, "sleep over, like when we were kids." For a moment, he looks to you. The nod he gives is solid, is reassuring; it eases your heart.

"I don't know if that'd be appropriate."

Elspeth knows. Everyone fucking knows. No-one will say it, but it effects every damn thing they do. How they treat you. You know this, but no-one talks about it out loud.

Saltburn thrives on the unspoken.

"Why not?" Felix forces his mother's hand, "Y/N's my best mate, has been for years, we share a bed all the time." And Elspeth is too polite to do anything but concede, and lets you both know with a faint, awkward smile that your things will be moved to Felix's room before the day is out.

"And Y/N, darling," she does finally, properly acknowledge you, taking both your hands in hers, kissing you on both cheeks, "it's wonderful to see you, of course, so glad to have you home."

Home.

You smile warmly at her. After a beat, however, she casts a faint frown to the window.

"And I feel I'd be remis not to tell you that Venetia is refusing to get out of the pool until you go down and join her."

"Oh," there's an amused kind of warmth that blooms in your chest at that, at being sought after and missed; Felix rolls his eyes but it's fond, "how long has she been there?"

"Not long before you arrived," Elspeth gives a genuine, warm smile, clearly either wilfully or genuinely ignorant about the nature of your relationship with her daughter, "please just take it as a sign that we have all missed you dearly."

She leaves you both to it, reminding you of when supper was to be held, as if the time ever changed, and you and Felix quietly made your way into his room. Your room.

You watch from the doorway as your best friend breathes in familiarity of it all. His childhood bedroom, always left immaculate and untouched, a museum to him whenever he was away from the house. A place of so many of your firsts, yet never a place you'd really called your own. Felix falls onto the bed, face-first, swearing muffled by his expensive duvet.

"Every bloody person's determined to get on my nerves today," Felix sighed, flipping himself over, legs hanging off the end of the bed. "Not you, you don't count," he adds idly, flicking his wrist in your general direction, but still managing to warm your heart, "I'm glad Ollie's staying close by, but can you believe she thought you'd stay anywhere but here?" He sounded genuinely miffed, finally turning to look at you. When he sees the abashed way you're smiling at him, his frustration drops, "what?" He can't help but match your softness in this moment, and you shake your head, trying to tell him it's nothing. "It's not nothing, look at you," he insisted brightly; your smile widened, as if on cue, "you were getting teary thinking about Ollie just minutes ago; go on, what's on your mind now. Is it Venetia?"

"'s not Venetia," you insisted, finally joining him in the room, sitting yourself on the edge of the bed looking around.

Your room; the room you share with Felix, and so close to Oliver too.

"It's our room, isn't it?" It's like he can read your damn mind, practically giggling like a high schooler at the mere thoughts of what the two of you were bound to get up to.

"You were so insistent," you finally teased, grinning wide and leaning back against him, "it's almost like you like me or something."

"That's fucking lies and slander!" Felix crows, your head on his chest, "I'll sue you for that -" but you're already moving, straddling him, pinning his hands to the bed either side of his head as you grin down at him.

"Felix Catton's sharing his bed, call the tabloids!" You teased, leaning in, and when he captures your lips in a kiss, it's like he wants you to taste how sharp his amusement is. He bites and teases and frees his hands to pull you in. Quickly everything shifts and moves and there's something possessive about the way he kisses you, holds you, has you under him and pinned and breathless before you realise what had happened.

"You think I'd let mum kick you out like that?" His pupils are blown so wide with want you think they could swallow you whole in this moment; "never want you that far away if I can help it," it comes out as a breathless admission, almost like it escaped him, like he's caught up in the moment, and you never want him to stop talking to you like this, "can't say that at Oxford - fuck Oxford," he mumbles, his lips on your neck in the next instance. His teeth sting without breaking the skin, sucking with intent to leave an ache that would remind you of him every time you touched it for the next few days.

"Us and Ollie," his lips are gentle when he kisses across your chest, your collar bones, "I'm sure between the three of us we'll end up getting into proper tabloid trouble," you can feel his smirk, and there's something electrifying about the possibilities you find yourself considering.

"Us and Ollie," you agree with a roughish grin. Felix captures your mouth once more in a kiss, matching your energy, your enthusiasm, but adds, "Ollie tomorrow."

And at that, you remember; giddy laughter escapes you.

"Our room," you can't help but remind him, and Felix's grin stretches wider.

"Venetia can wait for you a little longer."