#it's either bright red or light brown

[linoguy]

every day i get closer to making my hair a shade of lee know light brown despite the fact that i am Also light brown

[sergle]

Why is black a High Commitment Color?

That's something I'd award to literally anything lighter than your original color, which requires you to remove your skin, uh, I mean, bleach your hair first.

[venomfangs]

miguel's eyes are always red, he just hides them behind his sunglasses (that also serves to protect them from bright lights bc he's hypersensitive to it) - and his pupils almost always appear to be white bc of how light-sensitive they are, they reflect light much like a cat or a dog.

[the-merry-otter]

If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!

Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.

Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.

[Plain text description:]

First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing

This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!

Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.

[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]

[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]

Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)

Now with nasty pocketses

[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]

So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.

[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]

There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!

[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]

There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.

[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]

Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.

[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]

[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]

Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)

Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.

(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)

[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]

Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).

[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]

[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]

The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.

[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]

Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.

[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].

Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo

[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]

You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.

As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.

[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].

Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.

[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]

A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.

Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.

[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].

Fifth slide: Hair and headwear

Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.

Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.

[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]

[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]

All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.

[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]

I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.

[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].

[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]

Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?

[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].

Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.

[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]

Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods

These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).

Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.

They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.

[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].

[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]

[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].

Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.

Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.

[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]

Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.

Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)

Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.

[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]

Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!

Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!

Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.

[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].

Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.

[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].

[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]

Eighth slide: Accessories

These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.

Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.

[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].

Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.

[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].

They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.

[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].

Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.

[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]

Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.

[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]

Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.

[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]

Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy

There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).

Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.

[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]

[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].

Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.

[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]

Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.

[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].

Brocade gowns! So pretty!

[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]

Fancy sleeves!

[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].

Dresses that were two different colours.

[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]

And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.

[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].

[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].

Tenth (and final) slide: In summery

(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).

Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.

Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.

If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.

If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️

[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]

A list of helpful YouTubers:

Elin Abrahamsson

Morgan Donner

Opus Elenae

Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).

Now go hydrate!!

[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]

[atyourmerci]

☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

17

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

18

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

19

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[strawburry01]

She Blinded Me With Science

Summary: You and your college bestie Ford go hunt for the Mothman

AN: 2.6k words, there's some flirty friendship moments

Part 2

Hope you enjoy :)

“Forddddd!” you shouted as you slammed at his unfortunately closed dormitory door, “open up Pines I know you’re in there you haven’t left all day!” you continued as you kept knocking louder.

“For god's sake how do you know that?” his muffled voice came through the door.

“Your desk light has been on all night and all day you dork, I know you’re neurotic about turning that light off!” you huffed as you finally stopped knocking. You heard some shuffling of books and chair legs on the ground as Ford eventually opened the door a crack. For supposedly having the nicest dorms in the east coast, you and Ford were both guilty of turning your respective rooms into chaotic mixes of museum, library, archive, and photo studio, in your case. You could see the precarious stacks of textbooks and notebooks behind Ford’s bespeckled face. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night, evidenced by his glasses at a slant and his brown hair mussed up around his forehead.

“Can I…come in?” you asked as you attempted to poke your head in closer, which caused Ford to nearly shut the door in your face. The two of you had met in your first week of university, both sitting in the back of the Physics 101 class, noticing halfway through the class that you were both muttering the correct answers under your breath. Since that class, you had both been the closest of both study partners, and friends. With you being the charming talker, and Ford being the logical brains, you had both moved up the ranks in Backupsmore University. On a drunken night at the end of the first year you’d both revealed to each other that this was never your first choice. For Ford, his project to get taken in by West Tech was sabotaged, keeping him on the east coast. For you, your family couldn’t afford anything else. With 3 younger siblings you knew that your needs were met, but you also had to compromise on a lot of things- for the rest of the family. Ford kept a lot of his own family secretive, only mentioning in the middle of a spring break trip to Canada that he had an identical twin brother which nearly caused you to flip the kayak you were both in. But you were never one to push Ford too far out of his comfort zone. You recognized he was a private person, but also an incredibly bright and witty person. Someone you really liked hanging out with and spending time around. 

“No!” Ford said, “I mean uhm…what do you want?” he corrected himself, still keeping the door only open a sliver. You raised your eyebrow and leaned against the doorway yourself. He was hiding something, and poorly.

“Is there a girl in there Ford?” you whispered with a smirk, knowing there’s no shot in hell it would be the case. His face turned red as he shut the door and unchained the locks before swinging it open fully. You knew he rarely ever hung out with other people, aside from his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons gaming group and fellow student Fiddleford. 

“No, no females in here, just a damn letter,” he sighed as he ran his hand through his hair as he turned, “it’s the grant letter,” he said as he pointed to it on his desk. You stepped in and sure enough, his desk was somehow cleared, most of the mess being moved to his bed now, with a white envelope addressed to him. 

Stanford Pines, Room 313, Backupsmore University.

“Well shit have you opened it?” you asked, standing besides him as you both stared at the envelope. He applied for a large grant for research months ago, and after tedious interview after interview, this could be it.

“No, I can’t bring myself to. It’s Schrodinger's envelope. Until I open it I could’ve won it or not. I can’t do it. I can’t face the certainty of opening it- either one,” he sighed as he pinched his glasses on his nose, going through the same logic he’d been grappling with for the past hours.

You slowly nodded. He wound himself up like this often. Paralyzed with choice. You personally were the type to make a choice and force it to be the right one- somehow make it correct or at least work out for you. Ford on the other hand needed to know that it was going to be the right one from the beginning. Once again, the logical one.

What had worked before though was you distracting him. Getting him out of his head. Or at least his room.

“Want to check out Point Pleasant? Been reports of some unusual behavior from there recently,” you mused, breaking the silence. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning. “My camcorder’s all charged, I just need your car,” you grinned at him. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said as he took one last look at the envelope before grabbing his coat and keys. You silently pumped your fist as you fished your camcorder out of your bag. It was covered in random stickers you’d gotten over the years of owning it, from fruit stickers, to band stickers.

There was another thing that brought you and Ford together. An affinity for the unexplained and weird. It had always piqued your interest since you were a child living in the forest, seeing things that practical textbook science couldn’t explain and going headfirst into the unknown. Ford grew to share your passion for this after getting his skepticism proved wrong after tagging along for a few of your drives out to cryptid and weirdness hotspots. Bigfoots, ghosts, aliens, fairies, you’d hear a rumor and you’d grab your camcorder to go check it out yourself. Ford himself realized that he’d been viewed as something different in his own life having six fingers on each hand. The way that you got so excited and enamored with weirdness though made him feel less self conscious about his own quirks. You thrived on the unexplainable, and it eventually began to rub off on him. He could explain most equations and experiments, but he loved the challenge of not knowing how to explain something, which he seemed to always find when he followed you. 

You slid into the familiar passenger seat of Ford’s red 1960 Popular 100E, which was a little car that suited his personality well. He began the engine as you instinctively began flicking through radio channels trying to find some good music. 

The sun was starting to set which was turning the sky a pinkish yellow hue. You turned your camcorder to the sky and started filming.

“Tonight I come to you with a breaking case joined again by my dearest companion Ford Pines,” you begin as you dramatically squirm in your seat to zoom in on Ford’s face who blushes and laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He prided himself on his safe driving, which often bored you. “Let’s take a step back my friends into a time before humans, a time before these roads meant anything, a time of empty forest and beautiful lands untouched by buildings,” you continued as you turned back to the sunset, “imagine soaring above this beautiful area one day and then BAM!” you shouted, twisting back to Ford trying to catch him off guard. No luck though. “A billboard! A damn city has popped up in your turf! Where you were just chilling one day. Unbelievable,” you sighed as you turned back to the now darkening sky. “That my friends is the story of today’s search, the elusive and illustrious Mothman,” you said, which caused Ford to scoff,

“You’re kidding me Y/N, Mothman?”. You stopped your recording and put your camcorder back down. 

“You’ve already started driving, it's too late to turn back now,” you hummed as you went back to clicking through channels, “just trust me Ford I’ve never let you down,”. 

The two of you kept driving into the night, discussing recent classes and homework, and you trying to fill Ford in on recent gossip. The car rolled into Point Pleasant around 1:32 am, which is where you sat up again and turned on your screen. Slowly directing Ford down an overgrown path outside of town. Stopped by a closed gate warning to turn back you grinned maniacally as you jumped out the car practically before Ford could stop it. You climbed over the gate with Ford trailing behind you, muttering about tetanus and safety. 

“We start here, on an abandoned road,” you said as you panned around the forest “where this Mothman has been reported to be seen earlier this week,” you continued, “once again with my trusty partner Ford,” you added zooming in and out on Ford who was crouched down looking at the mud.

“Seems fresh,” he said as he pointed to a large claw prints on the ground, with what looked like a walking pattern of a human. Ford pulled out his notebook, which was a precariously put together collection of notes and drawings he started once he started going out on these adventures with you. You had your camcorder, and he had his notebook. It was a spiral notebook you’d gotten for him after getting tired of seeing him lose his sketches he’d done earlier on napkins, although the amount of wear and tear it got was already causing the spiral part of it to get stuck in some spots.

You zoomed in on the footprints and kept your camcorder down as you followed them farther and farther until you felt a strong gust of wind. You slowly brought your camcorder up to a tree in front of you, where a pair of glowing red eyes looked back down at you.

“Whoah,” you said softly as you marveled at the size of the creature in the tree as your saw the 7 foot feathered? furry? thing sitting in the branch, staring back down at you. You kept your camcorder and eyes on the creature, bewildered as you felt two familiar hands on your hips slowly pulling you back.

“Y/N we gotta go,” Ford whispered in your ear as he kept trying to scoot you back.

“Ford wait-” you protested as you tried to shoo him, which only tightened his hold and urgency.

“Y/N this thing does not play friendly,” he urged again, grabbing your head and forcing it to the pile of deer and other forest animal skeletons nearby that you had missed before. To seal the deal the two of you both heard the creak of the branch and flapping of wings as the Mothman jumped off the perch. 

Very quickly you grabbed Ford’s hand as the two of you began hauling ass back to his car, knowing it would supply a little bit of safety from the claws of the creature. Above there was a screech similar to a bird as you both dove into the car with you flopping on top of Ford as he started to fumble for his keys and scooting to the drivers seat. 

“A show folks! We have a show!” you shouted to the camcorder as you tried to get a view of the Mothman through the window, “we’ve discovered that our Mothman friend is NOT a vegetarian I fear!”. Ford frantically started the car and began reversing back the way the two of you had come. 

There was a loud thump onto the top of the car as you both looked at each other. It was on top of the car. Shit.

Ford continued trying to reverse down the overgrown trail as you resorted to honking the horn for him to try and get the Mothman off the top of the car. The car jolted as the Mothman jumped off the car, letting the both of you take a breath as you rejoined the paved road. 

“Damn that was crazy!” you said as Ford turned the car back into the road. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by both of your screams as the behemoth of the Mothman slammed down onto the hood of the car, metal screeching beneath the claws as it gripped on. 

“YOU SPOKE TOO SOON!” Ford shouted as he attempted to honk the horn, which only seemed to peeve the creature off more as it attempted to hit the windshield. You fumbled with your camcorder once again trying to film this scene as Ford continued to let out a string of curses. 

“Try and throw him off!” you shouted as you grabbed the side of the wheel and yanked it right, very grateful nobody else was on the road. The Mothman certainly wasn’t expecting it as it lost its balance careening off the side before Ford narrowly dodged it to not run it over. He pressed the accelerator all the way down as he tried to put as much distance between the car and the temporarily stunned Mothman.

You were out of breath as you laid your head back onto the seat, taking in the avoided danger. Grateful it wasn’t any worse. The tinny of the radio was the only noise in the car as the two of you stared at the mangled hood of the car.

“Ford I’m-”

“I got the grant,” he said before you could apologize, “I got the full 100 thousand dollars,”. You punched his shoulder excitedly.

“STANFORD PINES!” you shouted as you continued to hit his arm which made him grin and look over at you, “HELL YEAH YOU DID!”. You were overjoyed for your friend. He was the hardest working student and person you knew and truly deserved the cash to make his dreams happen. “I can’t believe you opened it! You had me going! Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked as you settled back down. He shrugged,

“I don’t know- I couldn’t think of how to tell you. I opened it at midnight last night and I’ve been trying to think of how to since then-” he said, “You’ve done so much to help me get it and- I just needed to do it justice,” he sighed. 

You gripped his arm again and gently shook it,

“I’m so fucking happy for you Ford this is going to change everything!” you smiled, “what are you going to do with it all?” you asked.

He let out a sigh, “I want to do this. Full time,” he said, “There’s a place, in Oregon, over in the Pacific Northwest- there’s something supernatural happening there based on my research and I there’s some land available already,” he continued, “I want to make a lab, a honest research lab, to do this sort of cryptid, oddities, weirdness hunting full time,”. 

The car was silent as he sat with himself.

“Damn that was the first time I’ve really said it out loud,” he laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think that sounds great Ford,” you nodded with a smile as you continued to gently rub his arm to make him feel a little better.

“But I need you there,” he said, confidently, “You got me hooked on this stuff, and you have a real knack for it. It’s only right if you come with,”. 

“I would be honored, Ford are you kidding me!?” you said excitedly as you squeezed his hand quickly on the wheel.

“It’s going to be really messy, and I don’t know how I’m going to move everything, but I need you to be there with me to make this work,” he said with a firm nod.

“And I’ll be there,” you nodded back as you sat back into your seat, looking back out at the dark road. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the future Ford had just invited you to.

[renai-fr]

Perler Flight Banners!

Made the first of these when I made the flight flags a bit back (my flight, Light), and figured it was a good time to make the rest of the flight banners and share the designs! To the best of my ability, they're also to scale with each other, so I think they'd look pretty good if you wanted to make the whole set and put 'em on your wall or something.

Sort of also for Dergtober's first prompt ("Flight"), but uh, ran into that thing with trad media where sometimes you run out of materials, ha! This is also why they're mostly not fused (Ice and Water share most of their mid/light blue beads, for example).

(Crafting info after the break!)

First off, all of these are either 17x34 or 19x34 (these squares are 17x17 on their own). They fit fine on the larger squares, but my big squares happen to all be either bright red or bright yellow, and don't show off the colors very well. They almost all use transparent beads for structural reasons- if you want to cross-stitch these, the transparent beads are fine to ignore! I was just making them so they could theoretically hang on a wall.

Colors used (my best guess, not gospel! I get most of my beads from kits/mixed bags, and they don't always list the color names :/ )

Light: Cream/Créme, Yellow, Cheddar, Transparent

Lightning: Copper (metallic), Robin's Egg, Parrot Green, Glitter Blue, Turquoise, Transparent

Fire: Black, Cherry, Orange, Cheddar, Neon Orange, Transparent

Arcane: Pearl Pink, Cheddar, Raspberry, Pink, Light Pink

Plague: Red, Cherry, Raspberry*, Pewter, Brown, Kiwi Lime

Earth: Brown, Light Brown, Pewter, Dark Gray

Ice: Robin's Egg, Pastel Blue, Gray, Dark Gray, Toothpaste, Light Blue

Shadow: Pastel Lavender, Purple, Dark Gray, Pewter, Toothpaste, Transparent

Wind: Kiwi Lime, Dark Green, Bright Green, Yellow, Rust, Red, Transparent

Water: Denim, Turquoise, Pastel Blue, Parrot Green, Teal, White, Marshmallow, Pastel Yellow, Transparent

Nature: Olive, Bright Green, Kiwi Lime, Dark Green, Marshmallow, Cream/Créme, Transparent

(* I used Raspberry on Plague's flag because I ran out of Cranberry. Cranberry looks WAY better, but like... mismatched didn't work at all. I highly suggest using Cranberry in place of Raspberry in all places it occurs on the design!)

Another color note- when you fuse metallic beads, the shiny stuff makes a lil halo around the bead's center hole. For Lightning, since they have wires/chains on their banner/support, I figured it would work fine, but you could swap the Copper beads out for Rust and it would look good enough, I think. You do lose the shiny factor doing that, though.

A couple of these extend off of the side of the boards; better to use a bigger board for them if you have one (or like, if you have a third 17x17, sticking it to the side of the others and scooting the entire design over a peg would also work!)

As is very visible on the Light banner, it's really easy to get a faulty fuse where the boards meet. The trick where you put masking tape/painter's tape on the back of the beads before ironing (the OTHER side, and then take the tape off to iron its side, to be clear) helps a lot on multi-board fuses. You don't have to poke holes in the tape, but I find that doing so with a ballpoint pen or what have you can help a lot with keeping the beads from moving around, etc.

Happy crafting- if you end up making any of these, please ping me (or um, whatever I'm supposed to call it... still don't quite know how this site works) so I can see!

[sun-kissy]

hola!! can i request a remus imagine where you’re in their friend group at hogwarts and remus has a huge crush on you and james and sirius are constantly teasing him about it in front of you and you’re just all confused and then remus finally breaks and tells you how he feels? only if ya want! thank you love!

thank you for your request <33

like | r.l.

tw: fluff

remus lupin x reader

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” James smirks as you stomp down the stairs of the common room and collapse into the couch.

A loud sigh escapes you as you throw your head back dramatically. “Mary’s just gone out with her new boyfriend!”

“So?”

“Lily and Marls aren’t here either,” you pout, turning your head to face him on the other end of the sofa. “Who’s gonna paint my nails for me?”

Sirius grins at you from where his head rests on James’ lap, feet pressing into the side of your thigh. “Don’t you worry, babe. Moony is so ready to help you with it.”

Remus looks up from his book, a crease between his eyebrows and pink dusting his cheeks. “No, I’m not.”

He regrets saying the words as soon as he sees the smile leave your face. You turn to him, looking as though you were a puppy he’d just kicked to the curb. “You’re not?”

Your soft voice seems to have cast a spell on him, weaving its way into his heart and pulling words out his lips before he even had time to think. 

“I – I mean, I am. Of course I am. I’d love to paint your nails for you,” he blurts out immediately, words stumbling over one another. His cheeks turn a shade of red only you seem to be colourblind to, the heat rushing to the tips of his ears.

Your face lights up with a beam, and he knows in that moment that he’d do anything to make sure that smile never left your lips.

You move to sit in front of him on the ground, soft knees bumping against his torn, tattered ones. A slight wave of embarrassment comes over him, immediately leaving to make way for butterflies when you casually flatten your palm on his thigh to balance yourself.

He makes a fold in the corner of the page before setting his book aside. You hand him a bottle of nail polish, pulling your knees up to your chest as you get comfy on the plush rug.

“Do you like the colour?” you ask hopefully as his eyebrows scrunch up in concentration, preoccupied with twisting the cap open. “It’s brown with golden sparkles, just like your eyes, you know?”

“Huh?” he looks up at you dazedly and abandons his efforts of opening the bottle, feeling his heart stop.

“Yeah,” you smile casually, like you hadn’t just told him that you chose to paint your nails the colour of his eyes. “You’ve got these really deep, dark brown eyes, and in the sunlight they’ve got pretty golden flecks. I think it makes you look quite like an angel.”

There’s a loud whistle instantaneously audible from the other side of the room just as Remus murmurs a soft, “Oh.” He didn’t think he could like you any more than he already did. But you had just told him he resembled an angel, in that honeyed voice with those bright eyes – who could blame him for falling into the abyss of love?

It had always been difficult for Remus to see you as just a friend, someone on the same level of familiarity as Sirius or James. Because truth be told, he would let you do to him whatever you pleased – yet he wouldn’t trust the boys around him even in his sleep. But these days it was downright impossible not to feel his heart throb for you, like his body was hardwired to love you. Like it was fated for him to fall for you.

He tears his eyes away from you to find the source of the repeated, screechy cheers with a look that could shoot daggers.

Sirius had his fingers to his mouth, wearing a grin and a pair of wiggling eyebrows. “Way to go, Y/N!” he cheered as he nudged his best friend, who was clapping as though he’d just witnessed a circus.

“Will you shut up? James, get him to shut up,” Remus hisses with no real venom in his voice, glaring at the pair who were now making kissy faces and lewd smooching sounds.

He turns back toward you to find your pretty face dampened by a small frown. You’re eyeing your friends suspiciously, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“What’s going on? Are you guys okay?”

“Are we okay?” James snorts, like you just said something blatantly hilarious. “You should be asking Moony that, sweetpea.”

As you open your mouth to argue that Remus was, in fact, perfectly fine, you feel slender fingers tugging gently on your own. 

You turn to your right to find the scarred boy staring down at the carpet with an almost perplexed look on his face, like there was a burden resting on the tip of his tongue but he was trying to swallow it down. He clears his throat once and lifts his gaze to Sirius and James, who immediately quieten at the burn of his glare.

You open your mouth to question Remus but he beats you to it, turning toward you expectantly. The look in his eyes softens into something more delicate, something reserved just for you.

“Actually,” he swallows as he unconsciously begins to drum his fingers on your wrist, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You arch an eyebrow, head tilted adorably in confusion. “Okay, what is it?”

He sucks in a shallow breath.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Just spit it out, Rem.”

Remus blows out a wisp of air, heart feeling close to explosion – from nerves or affection, he couldn’t be sure. “Fine, I…” He sighs and purses his lips, running a hand through his curls haphazardly. 

You couldn’t help but think that Sirius and James were being astoundingly quiet, big eyes unashamedly staring from where they were perched on the edge of the couch.

“Remus,” you mutter impatiently. “If you don’t say it right now, I’ll –”

“Okay! Okay, okay,” he mutters, hands going up in surrender as his eyes dart to the ground. “I… I like you.”

You blink. “And…?”

“No, like –” he runs a hand down his face frustratedly, which was getting pinker by the second. “I like you, you know? Like not just like, but like like, like –”

“Remus,” you breathe softly, cutting him off. He looks up to find you smiling. Really smiling, like one of those beams which could light up the whole town. His heart was going to explode, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah?” he whispers back before he could stop himself, sucking in a shaky breath.

“Me too,” your smile widens. It feels like you just lifted the world off his shoulders and kissed his worries away. “I like you too. A lot, actually.”

Like they’d been summoned, your friends begin to shriek raucously until you flip them off and mouth at them to zip their mouths. If they noticed how the smile on your lips never faded, they weren’t going to say anything about it.

Remus grins almost smugly, but his shyness is still obvious in the way his mouth forms several different shapes before he settles on, “Let me take you out to coffee,” like you hadn’t gone out together a million other times before.

You pretended to think about it, but eventually agreed. Remus felt like the luckiest man in the world.

He felt even luckier when he held your hand up to his face to compare the colour of your nails to that of his eyes, and you leaned in to sneak a kiss to his cheek.

[lewisvinga]

mayor que yo | max verstappen x pérez! reader

summary; max doesn’t care that checo’s sister is older than him. he just wants her no matter the age difference.

warnings; age gap but only by like 3-4 years😭 mentions of sex, reader is implied to be mexican ( duhhhh ) a bit of google translated spanish bc im too tired to mentally translate english to spanish

word count; 740

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; this song is so good too

masterlist !

back to old school masterlist.

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Max always cherished the few quiet moments he had in the roaring world of Formula One. He liked having moments of peace in his motorhome between practice sessions and media duties.

This is partially why he was so annoyed when hearing loud and quick Spanish followed by laughter coming from the motorhome of his new teammate.

Max liked Checo. He’s a cool guy. However, at that moment, he did not like him for bringing whoever it was making all the commotion.

He checked the time and sighed, knowing he had to leave the comfort of his motorhome. He grumbled as he put his phone back in his pocket, and opened the door. He didn’t expect to be met with deep brown eyes and a warm smile.

“Oh, Max! This is my baby sister,” Checo quickly introduced his sister to his new teammate who looked confused.

Before he could say anything, he was pulled into a tight hug by his teammate's sister. The warm scent of jasmine filled the air as he nervously hugged her back. “I’m Y/n. It’s so great to finally meet you!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her accent peeking through from excitement.

Max cleared his throat, ignoring the way his heart began to race. “Yeah- It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ever since that day, Y/n was constantly on Max’s mind. Whenever she attended races to support her brother, the Dutch driver could never keep her eyes off her.

He knew she was older than him but just by a few years. He was used to dating women either his age or a bit younger, never older. But the Mexican intrigued him with the way her brown-lined lips always curled into a warm smile when greeting him or the way her hips swayed under the bright lights of a club after a successful race for Red Bull.

She had him curled around her finger. Everybody knew it, even she did.

If she was hanging out in the garage and wanted water? Max would rush to go and grab her one even if he was about to get in his car. If it's cold and windy outside? She’s immediately wrapped in his jacket. Her feet hurt from walking around in her expensive Jimmy Choos? He’ll carry her around in his arms.

It was no secret Max was fond of the younger Perez even though she was older. The other drivers, especially Lando, often teased him about the Dutch driver finding an older and experienced woman.

“Max found himself an older woman and never wants to be with us anymore!” The McLaren driver teased as he saw Max walking by with a pink smoothie in hand.

“You’re just jealous I found a girl.”

“I just don’t want to! Besides, I could find someone my own age.”

Max rolled his eyes as Charles, Daniel, and even a few other drivers started to make teasing remarks. “Age isn’t important anyways.” The Red Bull driver mumbled, mentally cursing at how his ears began to turn red.

He left the group quickly and huffed as he still heard their teasing when mentioning he had to give the strawberry smoothie to Y/n. Frankly, he couldn’t care about their teasing.

Y/n was older than him, yes. But he liked her, a lot. She was experienced, she knew her stuff. It was something he quickly learned late at night when he had her in his arms.

She traced the red lipstick marks on his neck with a long acrylic nail. There was a comfortable silence surrounding them as she quietly hummed a song.

“Max?” Her soft voice broke the silence.

Max simply hummed in reply. His eyes were closed as his head rested on the silky pillows.

“Does me being older not bother you?”

His eyes immediately opened, revealing the blue eyes she fell in love with. He leaned up and rested against the headboard. “What do you mean? I’ve told you countless times, that I don’t care. It’s only a few years, it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s just,” Y/n huffed. She rested her head against his bare chest as she looked up at him. “People talk, y’know.”

“No me importa.” [i don’t care] The sudden switch to Spanish made her heart warm up. She knew Max had been trying to learn, wanting to connect with her. He leaned down to place a kiss on her plump lips.

“No me importa que seas mayor que yo.” [i don’t care that you’re older than me]

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Night Night, Nugget!

PAIRING || Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Fem!Reader x Toddler!OC

WORDCOUNT || 2.3K

SUMMARY || Your nighttime routine may not always be the most conventional when married to an Avenger, but you two have found a way to make it work for your little family. Bucky is often away for missions, which makes the evenings he is home with you and your toddler even more special, and the three of you make them unforgettable each time.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Established relationship. Dad!Bucky Barnes. Kid fic. Use of nicknames. Referenced pregnancy.

SMUT || Grinding. Spooning. Light dirty talk. Praise. Fingering. Sleepy sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Orgasm delay. Multiple orgasms. Cream pie. Cockwarming.

A/N || This one-shot is written based on the request I received from the lovely @pipsqueakkitten! As soon as I saw the request come in, I had a plan for it, and I hope it is everything you've wanted! I want to give my endless thanks to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this fic, even though you have a hectic schedule! I'm so proud of you for everything you're doing, bestie, I love you! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist || @fandombingo || Dinosaur cookies Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || Broken silence Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || Sleepy sex

Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Spooning Masterlist || @multifandom-flash || Glasses are sexy Masterlist || @seasonaldelightsbingo || Buck Bean

GIF: Source || All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sunday has been your favorite day of the week for as long as you can remember, but they have become extraordinary since the birth of your now two-and-a-half-year-old son, Onyx. Your happy-go-lucky toddler brightens every room with his excited laughter and endless talking. The fact that he looks exactly like your husband, Bucky, is the cherry on top for you.

Today has been a fun day for all three of you, as you and Bucky have taken Onyx to the large playground Tony has built on the grounds of the Avengers Compound as soon as you told him you're pregnant, and now you're preparing dinner for the three of you.

"Mama is back!" Onyx cheers as you enter the dining room. Bucky is sitting at the table beside his son, waiting for their dinner to be plated.

"Yes, Mama's here! Are you excited for dinner, Nugget?" Bucky asks, and your toddler nods happily, his dark brown curls bouncing with every move of his head. You bend down to kiss him on his head before moving to Bucky, who tips up his face to kiss your lips softly.

As soon as the food is plated for all three of you, Onyx dives in while you and Bucky talk about your husband's day at work, which was surprisingly uneventful for once. Being an Avenger has downsides, especially when he can be called away without a warning.

"Dada?" your son asks after practically smearing half his dinner onto his face and hair.

"Yes, Nugget?" Bucky answers, trying not to burst into laughter as he looks at the macaroni smeared across his forehead and curls.

"I love you," he says shyly, and your heart melts slightly at the sight as your son's cheeks turn a bright shade of red as he says it. It's not unusual for the three of you to show affection towards one another, but his sudden shyness is charming either way.

"I love you too, little Nugget. More than you'll ever know," Bucky tells Onyx with a smile before kissing him on the head, expertly avoiding the cheesy pasta sticking to his curls. A small giggle leaves your son's lips, instantly making you and Bucky smile.

"Mama?" Onyx then asks in a soft tone.

"Yes, little Nugget?" you answer with an arched brow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you already know what's about to come.

"I love you!" Onyx exclaims, bouncing up and down in his high chair. His baby teeth show in a broad, goofy smile, and his eyes shimmer with happiness. Your heart fills with pure joy as you look at him and then at your husband.

"I love you too, Nugget," you say before planting a giant kiss on his cheek, exaggerating the kissing noise as you do. Bucky looks at the both of you with a soft, love-filled expression. The rest of dinner is finished quickly, and then you take Onyx upstairs for a much-needed bath while Bucky clears the table and does the dishes so you two can relax after your son is asleep.

"Are you ready for your bath, Nugget? I put your favorite duckies in there!" you say, and he quickly rushes to the bathroom to watch his colorful array of rubber ducks floating in the bathtub.

"Duckies are swimming," he says excitedly as he points at them. It doesn't take long for Onyx to be between them as you're washing the pasta out of his hair, and he's happily babbling away.

You consider yourself very lucky to be the Mom of such a happy-go-lucky toddler, and being married to the man you fell in love with a little over a decade ago is everything you could ask for, and more.

As you wash the shampoo out of Onyx's hair, your mind drifts to the news you want to tell Bucky later tonight. It's something you had to keep secret for a little while. Today is officially the day you can tell him, and you can't wait to tell your husband the amazing news that you're expecting baby number 2 later this year.

"Do you want me or Daddy to read your bedtime story today?" you ask Onyx as you're drying him off. He doesn't like to stay in the bath for too long, so you pull him out and wrap him in a big, fluffy towel as soon as he's done.

"Daddy tells a story!" he answers, and you nod. Seeing how Bucky isn't always home due to his meetings, he wants his Dad to read to him, and you do it on the nights he's not there. And sometimes he asks for you both to do it, making it a family activity.

"Okay, but first, we must put a diaper on and get you into some jammies. After that, we will cuddle with Dada, and you can get one or two of the dinosaur cookies you love so much," you tell him, and he agrees. Onyx will do practically anything for his dinosaur cookies, and you always have a stock of them on hand, just to be sure.

Soon after, Onyx changed into a clean diaper and his favorite pajamas before you sent him off to Bucky, who made the couch comfortable for the three of you with your toddler's favorite blanket and cookies.

"I'm ready, Dada!" he says as he walks into the living room. Bucky spreads his arms, ready to grab Onyx for a much-needed cuddle. Onyx gets comfortable on Bucky's lap, and Bucky wraps him in his favorite blanket as the cartoons he loves so much play on the TV.

While your son is cuddling with Bucky on the couch, you take a quick shower before changing into one of Bucky's henleys and some sleep shorts combined with your glasses, which is Bucky's favorite thing to see on you. In all fairness, he'd rather see you without clothing, but if he has to choose, he prefers it to be his.

As you walk into the living room, you see Onyx nibbling on his cookie while his gaze is fixed on the TV, but you cross Bucky's gaze as he takes in your appearance. He's having an absolute field day right now, from the wet hair to the glasses, his henley, and your bare legs.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Barnes?" you ask as you sit next to him on the couch, your brow raised as a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth.

"You," he says with a fond smile, and you immediately smile at him.

"What do you mean, Buck Bean?" you ask, and he can't stop laughing at the nickname.

"I just think your glasses are sexy. They make you look like a sexy librarian or something," he whispers before capturing your lips in a longing kiss. But you don't get to enjoy it for long because Onyx is wiggling his way between you two.

"She's my Mama!" he says before pushing Bucky away, making you both laugh.

"Well, that may be true, but I was here first," Bucky challenges his son, to no avail. He crawls closer to you before cuddling in your lap, his head against your collarbone as he gets comfortable.

"My Mama," he says with a slight pout, and Bucky gives in.

"Okay, you win. You can have her until your bedtime, but after that, she's mine again. How about that?" he asks, and Onyx nods, now smiling again, before grabbing another cookie, which he happily munches on until his eyelids are getting heavy and he's almost asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, Nugget," Bucky tells his son, who is quickly scooped up before being carried to his bedroom. As always, he gets to pick a story, but before Bucky can get through the entire thing, Onyx is fast asleep. Your husband tugs him in carefully before turning on the nightlight and monitor, and then he joins you on the couch again.

"Welcome back," you say as you kiss Bucky again after he sits down, this time without interruptions. His Vibranium hand is cold against your cheek, and the metal digits softly rub against it, but you don't mind.

You moan softly in his mouth as you fist his shirt, pulling yourself closer to him, and without a second thought, he pulls you onto his lap, where you can already feel his growing erection pressing against your slowly dampening core.

"God, I can never get enough of you, Doll," Bucky whispers against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as you slowly grind your hips over the bulge in his dark jeans. His hands grip your hips as he guides you, and the fabric of your shirt gives you precisely the friction you need to reach your high not long after.

"Hmm, have I told you how sexy you are with these glasses on?" Bucky asks after you've come down from your peak.

"Maybe once or twice," you say with a whisper, and you capture his lips in a soft kiss that leaves him wanting more as he follows your lips when you pull away.

Bucky looks at you with fondness in his eyes, and you can't help but smile as he takes in your features. You're the best thing that has happened to him since he was released from his past in Wakanda, and to this day, he's thanking his lucky stars every day for you.

"I have to tell you something," you tell Bucky, breaking the silence between you. His steel blue eyes are focused on you as his hands lie loose on your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin under the henley you're wearing.

"You do?" he asks, and you nod.

"I'm pregnant," you blurt out, despite the ''speech'' you had prepared. Now that the moment is here, you couldn't care less about that; instead, you want your husband to know about the baby growing inside you as a token of your shared love.

"Are you serious? I'm going to be a Dad again?!" Bucky asks in disbelief, and you nod as the tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

"You're going to be a Dad again, Bucky! And Onyx is going to be a big brother!" you tell him proudly, and Bucky quickly lifts the fabric of the henley to touch your belly. The contrast between his Vibranium and flesh hand feels comforting, as it reminds you of your husband.

"I-I don't know what to say," he whispers, tears trailing down his cheeks. He already thought his world was complete with you and your son, but this proves how wrong he was about that because his universe could only get better with the addition of your baby.

"I love you so much, Doll," Bucky says before pulling you into a hug. That evening, you two share a whole lot more tears and laughter, thinking back to your first pregnancy and everything you've gone through since giving birth to your son.

Now, you find yourself in bed with your husband, both completely bare and his chest pressed against your back. His Vibranium hand is splayed over your belly as he presses many soft kisses on your shoulder and neck while whispering the sweetest things to you.

"I can't wait until you're showing again, Doll. When your belly is nice and round with my baby," he whispers as he ruts his hips against your butt, his erection trapped between your bodies. You're already starting to get sleepy, but Bucky can't stop lovin' on you since you've told him about your pregnancy.

"B-Bucky," you say in a breathy voice, and his hand trails lower until his cold, metal fingers make contact with your heated, dripping core, and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling of the metal digits playing with your sensitive clit.

"You're doing so well for me, Doll," he whispers as he keeps peppering your neck and shoulder in soft kisses, your breathing getting heavier as he lets his fingers glide through your folds before teasing your entrance.

"Please," you beg softly, and Bucky won't deny you anything when you beg this sweetly for him. Two of his fingers disappear into your entrance, and you bite your lip to supress the loud moan that threatened to escape.

His fingers keep working their magic as he brings you to your high again, but just before you fall over the edge, he pulls out your fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing - however, he's quick to soothe you and your longing pussy.

"Don't worry, Doll, I wanted to be buried inside you as you cum for me; I want to fall over the edge together," he whispers before lifting your leg and hooking it over his, giving him enough space to work his magic between your legs.

"Good girl," he says as he lines up with your entrance. It doesn't take long for him to be buried to the hilt, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. His pace is slow, but it has you feeling every inch of him in this position, feeling him deeper than you thought possible.

"Oh god, you fill me so well, Bucky," you groan as you work your hips in tandem with his, and he keeps up the slow pace as you're both still lingering between wake and sleep, making the fuzziness in your head even more enjoyable.

"Hmm, and you feel so good when you're wrapped around me, Doll," he responds, his thrusts slowly picking up as he gets closer to his high, yours being built up right alongside his own.

"I'm so close, Bucky, please make me cum," you beg again, and his Vibranium fingers move from your hip to your clit, and with a few quick, tight circles on your sensitive bud, you're clenching and milking him for all he's worth, his cum spilling deep inside you.

"I love you so much, Doll, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Bucky whispers after working you both through your highs, and you sigh contently. Not long after, you fall asleep with Bucky buried inside you, and you both have some of the best night's sleep you've had in a long time.

[clottedscream]

um. she haunt on my hill til i house?

finished reading the entire back half of the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson in one sitting overnight instead of sleeping and it had an interesting effect on my brane. thangkfully i thimk im still norgmal though

[image ID: a digital illustration of the character Eleanor Vance from The Haunting Of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, depicted as a pale skinned woman with wild, twisting brown hair colored red by the off-cast light of a bright scarlet sweater. She is depicted in two figures, both ascending a pitch-black iron spiral staircase. The foreground is cloaked by oak leaves and acorns, which dangle upwards as though upside down, and in the background there’s a faint impression of an upside-down tree. Both figures of Eleanor have their heads angled to stare straight at the viewer with almost inhumanly wide eyes- her mouth isn’t visible on either figure. The leftmost figure is near the top of the stairs, climbing with her back mostly turned, while the right hand figure is just peeking up from around the curve at the bottom. The right hand eleanor holds a brandy snifter with one pinky extended- the left hand eleanor holds a white teacup adorned on the inside with scarlet stars. the coloring is chaotic and sketchy, with lots of hatching and scribbled lines giving it an erratic feeling. With the way the foliage hangs upside down around eleanor, it almost gives the impression that she’s walking down along the underside of the staircase, descending rather than ascending. END ID]

[3uthym1c]

𓆩⚝𓆪 ☒ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝! 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳

𓏲 ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖    ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑  ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪   ˑ ֗⭑  ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪   ˑ ֗ ˖    ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ࣪ ˖    ⋆ ࣪. ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪  

Ꮺ Read before getting into your group please! THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR EVERYONE AT THE END!!!

Hey y'all, it's me and I'm back. I told y'all I don't have a PAC uploading schedule 😭. I honestly just do it whenever I feel that I have the energy and then recharge. Perhaps when I'm in my "tarot reading hibernation" I'll take free requests so stay tuned (I'll have to figure out rules for requests first 😭).

Remember that you can pick more than one and to choose what resonates and STAY HYDRATED!!! I've never done a love reading before so feedback would be very appreciated.

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ

For physical features I see that they have brown hair (light or dark brown). For some, your partner might have dreads, locs, or very intricate braids. Their skin may be brown or tanned (or tan easily). They have such an infectious and bright smile, it's like their whole face lights up and it's so beautiful to everyone seeing it. They're muscular, but in skinny way? I don't know how to explain it. Kind of like runners? As for their clothes or clothing style, they might wear either all black or white with a few pops of color. Like an example would be a dark t-shirt with a bright red collar thing and a necklace with a big yellow crystal.

They carry so so so much enthusiasm. Right off the bat they just bring a light very few can bring. They bring so much to people just by existing. inspiration, hope, enlightenment even? They don't even have to be extroverted they just have and give so much energy. They have so many silly little thoughts they share every now and then that seem to come out of nowhere. Their biggest character strength is gratitude. They feel so thankful for everything and everyone and they'll let you know. Oh my god pile 1 you're so lucky this person is so in love with life and will make you in love with life even more than you currently do. They will make you love being human the and feeling and tasting and dancing and experiencing that come with it. It'll have you seeing beauty in the everyday things.

Right now they're going through some really intense spiritual transformation. They need to learn to ask for help when they need it. They'll do well though. They'll find a lot of things could've been solved by just asking for help. Both you and them are at the beginning of your journeys (that doesn't mean your journey is long though), so if you guys think things are already good then I'm thinking of the phrase "universe, show me how good it can get". They're such a good cook & baker by the way. They have a lot of earth and fire placements. Extremely romantic in both the loveydovey type and the artsy sense.

When you come into their life it's very much random and unexpected. My sister just unexpectedly found an item that cleans her flute so I'll take it as a sign that you guys meet at a music / dance event or concert. Perhaps in the same class taking music lessons. Also random message: this meeting is just unavoidable, no matter what you do they'll find their way to you so don't worry. Even if you guys meet, have a conversation, and leave, you guys will keep bumping into each other. Months into your relationship, both of you will look back at this meeting as something purely magical. If they don't believe in fate or magic or some higher power, this will change their mind.

I'm also hearing, "It's so beautiful how deeply you feel." You may have been looked down on for being "overly sensitive" and "caring too much" but they very much appreciate it. Also hearing "Whatever you say, beautiful." like if you told them to do something crazy they wouldn't even question it. Literally remembered this image:

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: The Chariot (representing them), Ruby, the word "baroque", Soprano, Clownfish, Horses, Bells, Lemons, roses, letter S.

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Straight dark brown or black hair, they like wearing more simple outfits most of the time with neutral colors but there will be days where they're like "screw it I'm going to dress all fancy just to go to the library". Often carries a backpack or suitcase or purse everywhere. Worst case of RBF (resting bitch face) ever, but their face is so gentle and pretty too. Maybe wears black glasses (maybe prescription maybe not). A little random but you might find that they look so hot when they're focused? Really nice hands, they might like to wear rings or gloves. Would probably let you paint their nails.

But when you get to know them they're actually goofy and sometimes they don't even know it. "Apartment complex? I find it quite simple actually." vibes. I think a lot of people don't like how confident they look and say stuff like "They think they're better than us." when they never even act like that. Warning they have so many haters and it isn't because they even did or said anything, people see them and their confident energy and assume so so SO much about them. They don't know that though, because to them it seems like they hate your S/O for no reason and they're so confused. In reality they're so soft and kind hearted.

Random thing - they might really like penguins? They have ungodly amounts of patience for everything and everyone it's mind boggling. They're either interested or uninterested in things, so if they're interested they will put their heart and soul into whatever it is. You can see it so well in their work and career, whatever it may be. Embodiment of the word "Meraki". Btw your S/O doesn't want me to "spoil any surprises" take it as you wish.

EDIT: Holy shit there was whole entire paragraph about what I'd guess is the "surprise" that somehow didn't end up in the reading when I copy / pasted it from Notion to tumblr?????

Going to add more to this, it seems that your partner is super shy and a little awkward if that makes sense? Like, if you ever have done readings about specific people, while you may not HEAR their voice, you can kind of feel the vibes of them talking? They kind of remind me of the smell after the rain (which if you're curious, no it was not raining at the time of me doing this reading).

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Meraki (obviously), Cats, purple & blue, the letter R, birds visiting your backyard often, 777,

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Instead of starting with physical appearance I think I want to start off with what they're like. Right off the bat their energy is very easy to tap into (in a good way). In fact, after I was done with pile two, I kept on getting intuitive messages for two whole days on what they're like. This whole entire pile I didn't even have to draw a single card. at all. They're extremely talkative, and I wouldn't be surprised if you constantly recieved messages and signs from them. I'd imagine it would be like recieving a loud notification on your phone because honestly whatever chance they get, their higher self constantly is there checking in on you.

They have an incredible sense of humor first of all. They will never fail to make you laugh. I hope this makes sense, but they're almost like a walking four leaf clover or lucky charm. Wherever they go they just bring good luck to themselves and people around them. Perhaps their very existence is a miracle. Their birthday may be in May. This is going to sound weird and no shade to your S/O but they're the type of person you wouldn't expect to be so smart. Usually people think of smart people as like, these serious nerdy looking people, but this person is genuinely so so smart and good at talking to others.

I bet how you guys will meet is that you'll be struggling with something and they'll walk into your life and help you. They have the sort of magic of a teacher that can explain the hardest topics so easily. One of their weaknesses is that they're a little too afraid to ask help for themselves. This person isn't JUST good boy/girl/joyfriend material, but also a great spouse.

Wouldn't be surprised if they have light hair or are ginger. If they have dark hair it's probably dyed. Their hair is so fluffy and if it's long it's very nice to just run your hand in. A very comfortable style, I could imagine that they sometimes wear soft pastel colors (Blue, green, orange mostly) or neon. Hoodlies, loose clothing, handmade clothes.

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Four leaf clovers, 444, cats with different colored eyes (kinda specific), spiders, random light colored yarm / wool.

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

Your partner is probably much taller than you. They probably have silver jewelry and long hair. They put in a LOT of effort into how they look, they always look so fashionable. They also take great care of their body too. I don't think it's to the point where they're vain though, they just take care of themselves and like dressing cool. They may have blue, green, or grey eyes.

First of all, this may come to a shock to you but your partner is very spiritual. When you meet them they'll probably have already spent years learning about and practicing their spirituality. Everyone that meets them thinks that they're mentally just wise beyond their years, and I don't mean when it comes to academics (though that might be the case). There's just something about them that makes them feel like they've been on this earth for a long long time and have witnessed many things and met many people.

They may actually be a historian, anthropologist, archivist, librarian, psychologist, or sociologist. Okay I've just been having this stuck in my head while doing this reading but I'm imagining like, a rock or statue with moss growing on it. Also I'm feeling strangely calm and warm right now. I don't know if "calm" would even describe it, it's like complete serenity.

When you meet them it might be in somewhere incredibly crowded, but it'll feel like it's just the two of you. You could maybe meet them through a friend and have a nice long night drive talking to each other. They genuinely love you. I mean obviously this is a future partner reading so of course they would, but this love runs so deep. There's not any way that I can get you to fully understand the depths of this love, so you'll just have to wait and see!

They're the type of person that makes people comfortable enough to be themselves without worrying about judgement, mostly because to be honest this person is seen as "weird" themselves. You make them love humanity, is another message I'm getting.

Also a note that I didn't even pull cards for this, it was all intuitive so usually I take it as a sign this person's energy / presence is strong and you probably receive messages and signs from their higher self a lot. Or maybe their 3d human self consciously sends positive energy your way, a sign of this is randomly feeling warm and cozy and calm for no reason. P.S. they probably think about you as much as you think about them.

ALSO!!!! PILE 4 don't stop reading it yet there's a message I got for you guys but I feel called to put it at the end separately for all of the piles!

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: 888, blueberry, lights that flicker for no reason, or maybe dreams where you see some sort of light floating around, rainbows, bees, Magician card, the word "arbiter"

𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕐 ℙ𝕀𝕃𝔼!!!

I know someone (not all of you) is thinking "Nahh this sounds too good to be true", well 1. that's the magic of soul connections and love & 2. Please stop lowering your standards because it's "unrealistic" because I swear you're not asking for much from a person. You deserve something "too good to be true" bestie (And also, remember, YOU are a dream come true for them too 😭).

"Why me what's so special about me 🫤 " on god you're the type of person who asks for signs from your spirit guides and then ignores them like they're tiiiireeedddd. Real talk though, you don't know how beautiful you are to a strangers eyes because you grow accustomed to your face. You don't know how smart and amazing you are (and yes knowing a lot about a random show or book or random subject counts as being smart shhh).

You are so perfectly human you just DON'T KNOWWW. I

f you think like this (or even if you don't because we should all do this), I'm giving you homework. Make a list of everything you are grateful for yourself for doing / being, what topics and interests you have, your favorite fashion style, achievements, color, animal, your favorite song, things you have around the house that you like and why, etc.

YOU ARE AN INTERESTING PERSON!!!! If you have a good relationship with your parents / guardians or grandparents or aunts or siblings, ask them what they love about you. Get to know yourself!!! A lot of things are cool and special about you!!!!!!!!!

-Eiki

[screamingoverfiction]

Sleeping In

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. No house mentioned. 18+ smut ahead minors DNI!!

Also, I'm sorry for disappearing, I was stressed, and writer's block took its toll! Hopefully, I'll be able to do a request I have sitting in my drafts.

Word Count: 2.24k

--------

"Oi, George, where's your sodding twin?" Y/n shouted, throwing her hands in the air as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Er, I think he's still in the dorm," George replied, nodding toward the stairs. The younger twin was sitting on the couch, playing cards with a few other students, his girlfriend Angelina resting her head on his shoulder.

Y/n huffed annoyedly, mumbling incoherently as she ascended the stairs, her nostrils flaring.

She reached the twins' dorm in no time, turning the knob and stepping inside, flicking the light switch.

"Ah, fuck me," A voice cried out, which Y/n immediately recognized as Fred's.

"Rise and shine fuckface," Y/n spoke, grabbing a random jumper off the floor and chucking it at Fred, who was busy rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

The cloth hit him directly in the face, making him reel back.

"Ow," Fred mumbled, yawning again and blinking a few times.

"You were supposed to meet me in the library an hour ago," Y/n said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to her hip.

"Shit. Did I sleep that long?" Fred said, his eyes widening. He looked at his nightstand, and the small clock read 11:23 am.

"Fuck," He mumbled, running a hand through his hair and glimpsing at Y/n, flashing her an embarrassed smile.

Y/n just rolled her eyes with a sigh, running her tongue along her cheek. She walked over to the curtains, pulling them open and letting the light shine in.

Fred cringed from the brightness, sitting up with his back against the frame, admiring her from behind, sucking in a sharp breath.

Y/n turned around, her eyes widening slightly as she saw him.

He was shirtless, his muscles on full display, wearing only his plaid pajama pants beneath the covers. His red hair was messily falling over his forehead, and his eyes were still drowsy with sleep.

She quickly looked away, her eyes focusing on everything but him, the curtains, his dresser, the wall.

After all, they were only friends.

"Get dressed and meet me in the library," Y/n said, starting to walk to the door.

As she walked by, his hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her down on top of him.

A light gasp escaped her lips when his hands found themselves tightly grasping her hips, steadying her on his lap.

"I didn't mean to oversleep," He spoke softly, his eyes a pool of warm brown as they stared at her.

Y/n couldn't say a word, her mouth was open, but no sound came out, and her heart was beating a million miles an hour. She feared he could hear the rapidness.

"I did actually get up, brushed my teeth and everything, but then I took a...'five-minute nap.'"

"I looked like an idiot waiting for you," Y/n whispered. Her breath was shaky, full of nerves. She just now noticed her hand placement, both on either side of his neck by his collarbones, but he didn't seem to mind. Her legs straddled his waist, and the only thing separating them was the thin covers.

Fred let out a dry, breathy laugh. His eyes flickered to her lips before he lifted his gaze to hers.

Slowly, his hand raised to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, making her inhale sharply.

His pupils were blown with what seemed to be lust and desire, and his eyes bore into hers, hesitant yet yearning.

Y/n's core burned with intense heat, her mind told her to back away, to save their friendship while she could, but her body's urge was far more powerful.

"Allow me to apologize," He said quietly, swallowing thickly as he gradually leaned forward, his hand still gently holding her face.

Y/n closed her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. With her lips trembling softly, she closed the gap.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. It was timid, slow, sensual, the calm before a raging storm.

Fred sighed against her lips, bringing his hand to the back of her head and drawing her closer, deepening their kiss.

Y/n leaned into him, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his strong shoulder. Her other hand traveled to his jaw, holding it tightly.

A soft whimper-like gasp left her lips as Fred's free hand snaked under her shirt, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of her waist.

Like a bolt of lightning, desire shot through his spine from the noise. His tongue clashed with hers, and soft moans escaped their lips as the kiss dragged on.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, wanting nothing more than to rip off her clothes and ravage her completely. Hear her cry out his name as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Freddie," Y/n breathed, both of her hands now laced in his hair, lightly tugging it.

"Y/n, fuck. Can I?" Fred said, his fingers toying with the bottom of her black shirt.

She didn't hesitate to nod her head, a chorus of yeses quickly escaping her lips.

Fred lifted the fabric up and over her head, briefly disconnecting their lips.

Y/n didn't give herself time to feel ashamed, instead opting to connect their lips before he could scan her body.

Fred's fingers danced over her hips and around to her back, sliding upwards toward her bra clip.

If he died from kissing her lips, he'd die happy. There was no other taste in the world that could ever amount to her. She was the finest meal of them all.

"Can-"

"Yes, please," Her words came out in a whispering whine, a plead. She knew there was no going back to how things were, but hell, she didn't want that anymore.

Fred smiled, softly biting her bottom lip, kissing her passionately as he swiftly unclipped her bra.

He tossed it off the bed, pulling away from her lips and casting his eyes down.

If possible, his pupils expanded even more. He was so full of desire and passion that he felt he might explode.

Her body was perfect, exquisitely, and seemingly made purely for him.

Y/n could feel the shame rising on her cheeks. She felt the world slowly swallow her in the seconds before he responded.

"Bloody hell. You're so beautiful," Fred murmured, his lips attaching to her throat, kissing and biting downwards, making sure he left marks.

Y/n let out a soft gasp as he trailed further down, her head knocking back when he started on her breasts.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut as his lips thoroughly covered her nipples and breasts in hickeys.

"You look so fucking pretty covered in my marks," He said, smiling against her neck, kissing the sweet spot below her ear.

Y/n laced her fingers in his short red hair, breathing heavily, subconsciously rutting herself against him, searching for some sort of friction.

She hastily sat straighter, pulling the thin covers back and straddling him completely, feeling his erection through the cloth of his trousers.

Her lips found him again, and it was her turn to scatter love bites along his skin, which she did without hesitation.

Her teeth nipped and marked the skin around his throat, leaving a skillfully placed hickey just below his jaw visible to everyone.

"Making me yours, I see," Fred mumbled teasingly, his hand now drifting to her arse, head knocked back in pleasure.

"Not like you didn't do the same," She replied breathlessly, pulling back to admire her work, tracing her fingers over the various marks on his neck and jaw.

Fred smirked, taking her chin in his hand and dragging her back to his lips, kissing her deeply.

"Do I look pretty?" He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Very," Y/n answered, gasping as his hand ran over her arse, stopping at the waistband of her sweats.

"Take them off," She says before he can even ask, already assisting him in sliding them down, kicking them off and away from the bed.

Y/n's fingers hooked into the hem of his trousers. He soon helped her take them off and quickly discard them with the rest of their clothes.

Her panties were next. Fred practically ripped them off her legs, too impatient for anything else.

The cold air hit her bare pussy, and she shivered, but as soon as his warm body touched hers, her mind was clouded yet again.

She wasted no time taking off his boxers as well, the bubbling warmth in her core only growing larger when his large erection brushed against her inner thigh, teasing her.

"Do you- Do you have-" Y/n started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Top drawer to the left," Fred said quickly, an audible displeased groan leaving his lips when she pulled back.

Y/n would've rolled her eyes at his whines, but she was too wrapped up in lust to even care.

She opened the top drawer, took a condom from the box, and handed it to Fred.

He ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the plastic out and carefully sliding the latex over his aching cock.

Y/n could do nothing but stare and drool, the mere sight of him making her cunt clench in anticipation.

He was half propped on his elbow, one hand traveling to her neck, pulling her lips to his while the other held her by the hip.

Y/n kissed him deeply, aligning his cock with her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto it, breathing rapidly.

Airy moans left both their lips as he bottomed out, her tight muscles clenching around him.

The covers were hanging off her lower back, but she didn't care. There was no way in hell she would get cold.

His warm body pressed against hers as she started rocking her hips. Chest to chest, their bodies worked together, his hand on her back, pressing her further into him, her hand on his bicep, nails digging into his muscles as she moved.

"Ah- fuck, just like that, love," Fred groaned, his handsome features scrunched in pleasure.

He looked down to see where they connected, her back arching ever so slightly to take him all, her perfect pussy stretched around his cock.

He was able to hit every perfect place inside her, rutting against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure shooting up Y/n's spine.

But oh fuck, he needed to be deeper, needed her moaning and mewling his name like it was a prayer.

So without missing a beat, he flipped their positions, her legs locking around his torso as he started thrusting.

She wrapped her arms around him, encasing him closely, their chests still touching.

"You're so good for me, angel, taking my cock so well," He grunted, breathing heavily from the sensation of her walls clenching around him.

His thrusts weren't overly rough, but they didn't need to be. He didn't want to fuck her. No, he wanted to love her, cherish her body like the temple it was, and make her cry out in intense pleasure as she came on his cock.

"Freddie," She whimpered, arching her back to meet his thrusts, each perfectly timed. Tears of euphoria welled in her eyes, starting to slowly drip and roll down her cheeks as her orgasm quickly approached.

He looked so pretty above her, eyes closed in pleasure, messy hair, the freckles dotting his pale skin shining from the droplets of sweat trickling down his body.

His forehead rested against hers, fingers digging into her waist as he chased his climax. His breathing became more labored and rapid with every passing second.

Y/n felt the knot in her stomach coiling, the bubble of heat ready to pop with just a few more thrusts.

"Fred, I'm so close," She whispered, pushing her body closer to him, back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, me too. Come for me, Y/n," He said, his warm breath tickling her neck, the sensation sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm washed over her in waves of immense pleasure, lightning in her veins, a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Her legs shook, and her core was on fire, burning through the high as she came with his name on her tongue, crying it out.

Fred finished a few moments after, his hips sputtering as he filled the condom, his stomach burning with heat and pleasure.

The first few moments after having sex with someone new are the most pivotal. They decide if it's a one-time thing or something more.

Fred swallowed, resting his forehead against hers and sighing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

Y/n's hand wrapped around his neck, lacing in his hair. She smiled softly when he let out a breathy laugh. The sound was always music to her ears.

"I think I need to sleep in more often," Fred whispered, pulling his head back to connect their gazes, admiring her fucked out appearance, bruised lips, hickeys everywhere, and dried lines of tears running down her cheeks. She was beautiful.

"I think..." Y/n breathed, propping herself on her elbows and cupping his face in her hands.

"I could go for another apology," She finished, a smirk toying on her lips.

A shit-eating grin spanned across Fred's lips, his eyes lighting up at her insinuation.

"If I ever say no to that, kill me,"

----

Hope you enjoyed! If there are spelling/grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. I wrote this at like 1 am.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hiya!! I’m obsessed with your writing. You’re my favorite writer on here, I dream of your stories!

Would it be possible to request (either with Ghost or Price, I love them both equally) something like they were young love but he breaks up with reader cos he wants to keep her safe and thinks he knows what’s best for her. Then during a mission gone wrong, they need a safe house but somehow the enemy found out all the locations of their approved safe houses. He remembered her place is close by and tries his luck. Maybe she gets mad at him for making decisions for her or maybe he learns about her difficult past that happened without with. But with a happy ending? ☺️

Only if this inspires you! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful writings!

If You Bite My Hand Again

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.

WORDCOUNT: 6.6k

WARNINGS: Heavy angst, abandonment, arguments, mentions of death, blood, insinuations of torture & mental illness troubles, Simon's comic backstory, hurt/comfort, sort of suggestive?, anxiety attack, somewhat happy ending, etc.

A/N: This was really fun to write, lol, enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You never should have met him. In fact, it seemed like the universe had been adamant to make you not run into each other on that chilly October morning almost…well…it has to be more than thirteen years ago, now. So long. 

As you head to your kitchen and glance at the clock, the hands point to a perfect three-fifteen—an hour of pitch-blackness and whispering winds that dash past the musty glass of the windows. The thump of your footsteps blocks out the heaving sigh that falls from your mouth; rubbing at your eyes like a cat as great bags sag from tired flesh. 

The dreams weren’t uncommon. 

Simon still reigned supreme in the conjuring of them, ingrained into the sinews and pulled thin by a hand constantly working them—knitting a sweater of memories addled with age. Moth-eaten. 

As you snap on the light of your tiny and run-down kitchen, the bulb fizzing and the dishwasher still emitting that squeal as it always does, you think about him before grabbing a glass. Water hits and fills the thing up as your eyes blankly stare, fatigued but yet never more awake. 

The tremors in your hands persist.

You never should have met him.

—

Your feet take you to Primary, laces a mess atop your little shoes caked in mud and grass—you’d chased after a butterfly through the front yards, getting caught in your neighbor's bushes and having to slip your way out before she could rampage outside with her broom. 

It was no surprise that your face was lit with a bright smile, eyes shining like fire that your teachers had given you a special name for—“Ember.”

The very thing that could start a blaze over and over again as long as it still was alight.

Laughing and peeing out leaves from your hair; flattening out your uniform, you stride with pride ingrained into your body. Well, you did before you heard the soft sniffling coming from down the alley. 

Halting, your ears perk at the sounds, smile freezing as you blink quickly. Looking to your left, you lock onto the hunched figure of a boy. 

Perhaps only a year or two older than you, you stare in curiosity as he consciously paws at his cheeks, walking out of the alley in broken and odd strides. His uniform is ruffled, wrinkled, but not in the way yours was.

He must have fallen and hurt himself, you reason with a child-like frown pulling on your lips. Blinking at his blond hair, you get a glimpse of red-rimmed brown eyes.

The boy halts, looking at you widely, fear and pain emanating from his expression. You’re the first to speak, brightness still in your eyes but a deep innocence that comes with youth. All you saw was a boy your age in pain—that was strange to you. You knew what getting hurt was like; you fell and scraped your knees often, or hit your elbows on corners. Sometimes you would cry from that…did the same happen to this boy?

“You’re crying, aren’t you?” Brown-Eyes stares, hurriedly pushing at his face to wipe tears but only succeeds in making his face red from the material of his uniform. “Did you fall down? I do that pretty often—it’s okay, my Mum says you’ll be better after a hug and a kiss!”

You smile and stand straighter. 

“I,” the boy begins, sniffling. “I didn’t fall. I’m not clumsy.”

You tilt your head, confused. “Well…then why are you crying?” 

“That’s none of your business!” He snaps, brows pulled in as he comes forward on the sidewalk. Your face twists as you huff in annoyance. 

“My Mum says to treat everyone nicely. That wasn’t very nice.” 

“I don’t bloody care, do I,” you’re sent a scathing glance as he passes. “I didn’t ask for you to speak to me. Leave me alone.” 

Naturally, you follow after, cheeks gaining heat.

“You’re being mean! Apologize!” 

“Would you run off already?!” The boy shouts, and perhaps something fires in that small brain of yours—a thought and a semblance of self-realization at the shame that emits from his tone. A tight squeeze of vocal cords. 

He was ashamed. Ashamed you’d caught him. Seen him. 

Your feet slow back to a stop, watching him hurriedly continue on and hearing the quiet gasps of breath. After a moment, you grit your teeth and run the distance; seizing him around the middle in a hug of stubby fingers and tightly closed eyes.

The boy startles, body hardening and a cry escaping his lungs. “Get off of me!” He shouts, hands snapping down to yours and digging under your hold. 

“No!” You call, stubbornly. “My Mum says that hugs make everything better—”

“Stop talking about your Mum!” The boy stomps his foot to the ground, chubby cheeks turning crimson as he tilts his head back to look at you, tears still dripping off his chin. 

A stiff silence falls but like a green branch on a tree, Brown-Eyes’ form twitchingly loosens, his prying hands softening as you hold tight—digging your nose into his spine. He minutely flinches, but you only hug him more. 

You’re both late to the building, and your teachers are going to give you scoldings. But right now, on a chilled October morning, you hug this strange, crying boy and blink your fiery eyes up at him. 

After he relaxes fully and the sniffling stops, you let go and smile brightly again, looking up into his open expression of innocent confusion. Whatever had happened, he must have fallen pretty hard, you thought, pulling out another leaf from your hair. You giggle and hand it over as a gift. 

The boy hesitantly picks it up and looks at it before turning back to you. 

“Call me Ember.” 

A pause. A hesitation. But your eyes shimmer and he relents with the memory of the hug in the front of his mind. Such a strange encounter. 

He speaks, looking away from you with flushed cheeks, muttering out as his tear streaks dry.

“...Simon.”

You walk together the rest of the way.

The reality was, if you had gotten caught by your neighbor, had snatched that butterfly—had even stayed in those bushes for three more seconds, you would have missed him. And if Simon hadn’t run out of his home crying, he never would have locked onto the burning reality that was with you. 

—

You put the glass to your chapped lips and take a long sip, throat bobbing as you take down the liquid with tears burning your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you swipe at the water at the sides of your mouth and shake your head, sighing. 

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” Your voice bounces off the walls, peeling paint and moving the dust stuck atop the fridge. “Damnit, Simon.” 

Today was worse than the others—everything building and stacking like some castle of misery and pain; windows too narrow to let in any light and your form stuck in shadows longer than an endless rope. There were just so many things that suffocated you now. 

And in the endless nights, the brain desperately looks for comfort. 

You hate that it only comes from the memories of him. 

“I have to go to work tomorrow.” Your subconscious reminds you as you blankly stare out the window above the sink, seeing the streetlights and the cone of warm light—it flickers every so often, a blinking taking place like the eye of a large, brutish, wolf. 

Work, then the grocery store, then back home to eat a tasteless dinner and fall back to sleep. An empty house with empty walls and empty memories. 

Your hands put the glass in the sink, coming back up to rub and dig into your eyes until the itch behind your flesh stops. A thump of a low pulse is felt in the thin skin, orbs of your optics moving before you pinch into the bridge of your nose and drop them with a slap of a hand to the counter. A harsh breath exits your mouth, but it’s quickly strangled away into a sound of ragged shock. 

Outside, under the light, the silhouette of a man leans heavily on the pole, feet shaking under him and face pressed into the shadows as his shoulders heave. You stare, wide-eyed, as your heart jumps to a rapid pace. 

“What the fuck?” Your mouth utters, watching the man push off the light and stagger with a heavy limp and a jerking body of immense stature. Whoever this guy was, he was out of his mind—and coming right for your front door. You startle to go and secure it, feet slapping the ground and face twisted. 

“What the fuck?!” Gasping, you re-check your locks and frantically look for something else—the stool where you place your keys meets your eyes. You grab it and place it as a barrier to the handle, tilting it on two legs and blinking quickly as whatever sleep-sheen that had been in your gaze leaves in one swoop of adrenaline.

Grunting wafts in from under the door, haggard inhales and a sudden slam of a body hitting the door. You stifle a scream and back up quick steps, slapping your hands to your mouth.

Sure, you might live in a shitty neighborhood, but no one had ever tried to just straight-up break in high or drunk off something. Your mind slashes to the knives in the kitchen drawer as the wall shakes again—something sliding down to the ground and a grunted whine. 

Just before you run off, you hear it. An utterance; a disruption of airwaves. A whisper, a plea. Your brain ceases to function with one foot back the way you came, hand on the frame with the knuckles tight. 

In one instance it all comes to a screeching halt. 

“Ember…” 

Who called you that anymore? The rare instance where you’d meet your classmates in the world they would mutter it; also be asked a few questions before they went on with their lives. You pause in your panic, slowly gazing back at the barrier and the stool like you’d just discovered you’re under the sights of a sniper. 

There’s a sliver of something that inserts itself into your brain. Fear or hope, you can’t tell. But that can’t be right. 

He left. 

“Ember!” You flinch, the deep Manchester accent grating your heart into shreds. No. “It’s me!” He says, followed by a horribly gritty cough. 

There’s a weak thump against the door, mumbled curses, and growls as if a wild animal mimicking human speech. You almost wished for that, considering you now knew the exact person behind the door down to his atoms. The brown of his eyes and the way his cheeks looked as they were stained with tears. 

His laugh. Simon’s voice. Everything.

Simon.

You’re rushing to rip the stool away with a clatter and a jerk as it hits the far wall, undoing the locks with shaking hands as you grasp the handle and wrench it sideways. 

His form slams to your feet with a loud grunt as the door hits the wall. 

“Fuckin’ hell! Mind your bloody—!” Whatever he said was lost to you as you stare at the bloodied form of the man you had thought you’d seen the last of. Tactical gear, terrifying skull mask, black on black with weapons galore. But that voice told you all you needed to know.

Simon Riley is alive and very much breathing. 

The same boy you still loved. 

The same boy who’d broken your heart.

—

After October the years with Simon seemed to strengthen. You always walked together in the mornings—or, at least, you always waited for him. The dawn of your friendship strengthened and hardened to an unbreakable amount of mid-day rays; vast and sunny. 

When he was sixteen he asked you to be his girlfriend, hand in his pockets and ache on his chin as he grunted out broken sentences. Stuttering and awkward. You’d smiled with your bright eyes and giggled before kissing his cheek—feeling his sigh and him melting into you with a grin of his own, unable to meet your eyes for a moment. 

Later, when he said he’d wanted to leave his apprenticeship at the grocery’s butcher shop and join the Special Air Service, you’d been along for the ride—anything to get him away from his father and brother. You knew what was going on, even if he was still so hesitant to allow you any glimpse of his home life.

When he’d shy away at the Halloween decorations of skeletons as if the skull would jump off the page and tense at loud cheering, you knew. You did what you could, but there was only so much for you to suggest or say without him shutting down. 

When you’d offered your flat as a safe space after graduation, desperate to help your Lover, he’d stared and blinked in shock; tilting his head at you before smiling softly and taking you into a hug. Wherever he went, he knew he’d always have a place by your side.

So, throughout his leaves of absence from the military, he’d come home to you—bruised and tired, but still the same Simon you fell in love with. You’d cook for him, tease at his shaved hair as he gave you those puppy-dog eyes, and talked him through your classes at University.

You would fall asleep on his chest, feeling the hard strength he was gaining and the way he held you tighter than he ever had; conscious of himself but not wanting to part with you. 

The love the both of you had was akin to a blaze of fire, and you often found Simon simply staring into your eyes in times like those—watching silently and rubbing his thumb along your spine until your face burned. 

He was always so gentle despite everything; you loved his perseverance, his drive to be good despite nearly every factor telling him he couldn’t be. Slowly but surely, he was forging his own life. 

In 2003 he managed to take a break from the military to get his family straightened out. His brother, Tommy, went to rehab—Simon stayed with his mother and a year later he kicked his father to the curb and out of his and his family's life entirely. Finally free. 

You managed to meet his lovely mum, still so bright, and even interacted with Tommy once he got out; went to the younger brother’s wedding in ‘06 and met Beth, his wife. When you saw Simon’s mother and the way she carried herself, you knew where your Love got his pride from. The two were so alike it was a sight to see. 

While it may not have been conventional by any standard, Simon proposed to you in the back garden of Tommy’s cheap wedding venue. Alone, so as not to cause a scene. Willow trees and a small stream of water. Fireflies. The words ring in your soul with every waking moment, and they will stay there until it all goes silent with the grip of death.

He didn’t want to use his mum’s ring—the one that holds so many bad memories for both parties. He’d used the gold from it though. Went to a man who bled him dry for money to have it re-cast. 

It was simple. A small, glinting, ruby pressed in the middle. 

“It was always goin’ to be you, Ember, yeah?” he’d muttered in his deeper voice, formal attire holding you both tight. “So…don’t make me beg too much, Sweetheart. You know the old lady’ll kill me if I get stains on my suit.” 

“Beg?” You responded, tears in your eyes but such a wide grin on your lips. The stars above you twinkle like the pupils of your eyes—the same burn still trapped. “Oh, Simon, come on, now.” He connects his forehead to yours, hand still in the middle of you and presenting the accumulation of all of his love. The other wraps your waist. 

He was shaking slightly. 

“I would never make you beg for my love, Brown-Eyes.”

You both share a breathless chuckle and lock lips, smiling like fools as he sighs into you. 

In a happy world, that would have been the beginning of a perfect life. A happy house. A happy wedding. Happy deaths. 

But something went wrong on one of his deployments. 

Missing for months, he came back…wrong. With a fiery temper and sharp snapping words—wounds on the outside as well as inside. His eyes were feral, like a dog held back by a broken chain carting around its feet. 

Simon never spoke about it—the missing days. The weeks. The months. 

You broke yourself over it, trying to help but not knowing what would make it better. Some days there were flickers of soft expressions, but it was as if he were dragging himself up from a pool so deep it was bottomless to show them to you. Simon rarely smiled. He rarely sent an affectionate glance. 

He didn’t let you touch him. 

And then he called the entire engagement off with a letter on your counter only holding four words. 

‘Don’t look for me.’ 

And then Simon’s mum, Tommy, Beth, and his nephew had all died. Been killed. And you were just supposed to move on? Live with that? There were times when you had breakdowns so bad you couldn't leave the house for days—the house that Simon and you had bought together. 

All of those years. 

All those vows and shared nights.

And he disappeared on you.

—

You have him sitting on the couch, watching silently from the chair across the room as he finishes wrapping his leg with the bandages from the first-aid kit you’d provided. 

More like chucked at his gut.

No one had said a word, and the air was as tense as a noose—choking any oxygen that traveled into your throat. Simon was getting blood all over your flat cushions, the crimson saturating the fabric as you sit rail-rod straight, hand clenched on your thighs. 

Simon’s avoiding your eyes.

“Take off the mask,” you hiss, pupils slits. If he wasn’t going to address it, then you were. Simon freezes, not breathing as his hands fall stationary around the bandages. 

“I’ll be fine in a while—”

“Take off your fucking mask, Simon.” You can’t help the way you snap, face burning with shame and hate. How dare he show up now, after all of these years of mourning him and the relationship you’d built as kids. Simon wasn’t just your boyfriend—your fiancé—he was your best friend. 

And all he’d done was left you a four-fucking-letter note before leaving you behind.

The geared man sighs silently, and you see his shoulders sag. His grip travels up as he straightens his spine in a fluid motion, pain medication working through him in waves of numbness. 

His brown eyes bore through you as if he were a ghost. Under the fabric, his mouth thins. “Ma’am.” 

Even his voice is older. More dead. How could this be your Simon?

Your heart bruises your ribcage as he grasps the top of his skeletal mask, gloved fingers peeling back the sown layers until you get the full image of a man more damaged than before. You have to stop yourself from sobbing right then and there; your throat going dry.

So many scars. Milky white and spread vastly—they weren’t pretty. Up his cheeks, down his brow line; even at the corner of his mouth and seeping down his neck. A crooked nose with damaged cartilage. Strangling a gasp, it comes out as a great expelling of horror, eyes going wide with shock. 

You hate how you want to rush to him, take his face in your hands, and try to brush them away as if marks on paper. But you don’t make any such movements beyond a hunch of your shoulders. 

“Not pretty, eh? Guess I should’ve warned you.” Simon rubs at his forehead, blond locks, hanging around his temple, and the black of face-paint stuck in his sockets. “Didn’t mean to fuckin’ drop in like this, Ember. Bloody bastard thing for me to do.” 

You flinch at the name, looking away as you’d been peeling back his skin with your eyes. “What are you doing here, Simon?” Anyone with a brain could hear the cracking hardness in your words. Face blank. 

He studies your features, taking in the changes and the bleakness of your expression. Brows furrow slightly before they go back to a state of nothingness. Simon glances around the room, finding the condition of things concerning but doesn’t show it. 

“Nothin’ you need to worry about comin’ back to you, Sweetheart. Just work.”

“It is when the bastard who abandoned me shows up years later, bloody on my doorstep. Stop acting so self-righteous,” you growl, snapping, “I should toss your arse outside and let them have you. And don’t fucking call me that.”

Silence descends, and your words echo. It’s like now that he was here everything hurt ten times more than when he wasn’t. 

“I never wanted us to end up like we did—”

“Bullshit!” You’re on your feet and stalking to him, pointing with your finger as he hurriedly stands up as well and looks down in shock as you press your digit into his bulky vest. “You shut your mouth, Simon Riley, and you let me explain something to you.” 

He keeps silent, mouth parted and scars shifting around his stubble. His hands slightly held out at his sides and hovering over your hips—not touching you but there just in case. Simon’s brown ords are carefully widened at your tight exclamation. The sound of his clearing throat enters the living room before you speak again. 

“I waited for you, hoped and prayed that you would show me at least a,” your throat bunches, but you push through. “A modicum of respect and show your stubborn self up at my door with apology flowers and a guilty smile on your lips. You know who took care of your family's burial plots, you fucking piece of shit,” his eyes flinch closed a bit, turning his head down as his breath hitches. “Me! You fucking disappeared!”

You know you shouldn’t be yelling, shouldn’t be pounding on his chest with a fist as if he was a door and you the knocker, but, dammit, it’s been years and he just shows up? Like this? Ten times the size he was—scarred and torn to shreds; laced with muscles and an expression of vacancy. Simon holds to your words, hanging off of them with a down-ward turned chin and eyes that lock with yours through pale lashes. 

“Maybe I-I did, o…or pushed some things that I shouldn’t have,” you hold back your tears, but your voice still wavers, tapering off like a line without a hook, “but I didn’t deserve that, Simon.” The first traitorous sob breaks through. “I didn’t deserve that.”

His eyes shatter into a myriad of kaleidoscope bits and pieces, brows flicking from one point on your face to another in quick slashes of guilt. But he still doesn’t touch you. Not until you tell him it’s what you want.

Simon opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly, unable to find any words that would even matter. You let your tears slip down your cheeks, dribbling off your chin. The man’s chest hurts, pulse thumping to mirror yours. 

“I waited for you and you broke me,” you whisper, mouth twisting with odium towards the man under your fist. “I wanted a life with you, Simon, no matter the trials.”

“I didn’t mean to…” The man trails off, clenching his jaw. You scoff, backing up a step and pressing your palms into your eyes. 

“But you did.”

“I had to keep you safe, Ember.” Simon’s fingers twitch outward, eyes frantically moving around as you sniffle and shakily walk away to the kitchen. He follows, desperately on your heels as your spine bows forward with resounding cries of anguish. “I...I wasn’t right in the head, I need you to understand I didn’t want this! I never wanted to fucking hurt you!” 

Your hand connects with the junk drawer, tearing it open and digging a hand inside as he pleads with you to listen. 

“If I didn’t leave I was worried I’d do something—!”

“Then you should have trusted me!” Your hands rip out the ring held on a small leather strap. The ruby glints where it always sits, held in tarnished gold. You chuck it at his chest and suck down breaths so you don’t pass out. “I would have listened! Gotten you help! We don’t abandon the ones we love, Simon! Not us!” 

Simon catches the object by slapping a hand to his chest, pinky finger latching through the leather cord before he jerks his limb back up. When he looks at the ring, he goes utterly still, gazing back up at you slowly. 

“We were supposed to be different,” you sob, trapping it behind your hands. He’s shaking, brows tight and lines along his face as he brings a free hand to run through his locks, gripping the strands for a moment and pulling. “Simon,” you say again, and he looks back at you with glossy eyes. “We were supposed to be better.”

“What did I do to you to deserve that,” he stares, his jaw is loose and he can’t stop clenching and unclenching it. You can see his heart working through his breast. Bloodied. Beaten by fists and slashed with knives. “What did I do to you?”

“Nothing,” he gasps, taking a step forward. “Fuck, Ember, you didn’t bloody do anything to me besides love me.” 

You sputter out, “Then why did you leave me here alone?” Your knees buckle and he darts forward, catching you under the arms as you wail out, shoving on his waist, “You never should have come back. Never should have come back.” 

He lets you push him off; lets you back up to the counter as Simon tilts his head higher to stave off the tears in the sides of his eyes. He’d known coming here was a bad idea, for lack of a better word, but after the Op went bad and all of his safe houses were compromised, he didn��t have a choice. It wasn’t to say he didn’t regret his actions in the past with you, or that he didn’t punish himself for them, yet at the time it was the only thing he could do to give him the sense that you would be better without him. Safe. 

After everything that had happened, he wasn’t in the right state of mind anymore. You deserved so much better. But hearing all of this…

Christ, could he have been wrong? Everything blurred; hurt. Hearing your sobs was like a knife to his heart every time, digging and cutting with serrated edges at the veins and pumping muscle, carving away flesh to shed the pounding redness to light. You held that heart in your hand and in his he held the ring—the ring he’d given to you as a promise of love and honor. 

A pact of loyalty. 

Simon doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the blurring edges of his vision make itself known. His eyes bore harshly, prodding into you as he makes known what he’s been broken since he first locked gazes with you again. The man’s voice shakes, accent deep and tight.

He asks the first thing that comes to his head.

“What happened to your eyes?”

“What?” You ask, incredulously, brows furrowed as your hand digs into the counter to keep you upright. Simon stares deeper, the sides of his eyelids wrinkling with a not-so-hidden sheen of great concern. Unbearable pain.

“What happened to your bloody eyes?” Where had the spark gone? That flare that grew and spread like fire that was the entire purpose behind your name. An unconquerable ache for life. 

You only watch him with a parted mouth and tear-stained lashes, sniffling. Simon tries again, taking a step forward on unsteady feet. 

“Please, Sweetheart, d…don’t, don’t…” He can’t finish, the leather cord intertwined into his fingers as he comes closer. “Don’t tell me I took it away. Not my Ember. Not my Girl’s fire.”

Your eyes are so overflowed you can’t even see him as he hovers over you, fingers coming up to brush your cheeks as his mouth is open in hard pants of breath. “No, no, no. Fuckin’ bastard, not me. Not over me, please.” It’s like Simon’s not even talking to you but rather himself. 

He mutters in fast sentences, eyes panicked. “You were supposed to be better off—‘posed to move on. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you find someone else?” 

“You’re an idiot, Simon. An idiot,” you sag into his neck, nose digging into his pulse as he quivers, legs having to reset themselves. His heat melts into you as your body gives out with a final sob, “It was always going to be you.”

His arms snap around you like a vise, dragging you into him as he breaks and stifles his whimper on your scalp, breathing right by your ear; gasping for breath. 

“M’sorry,” he mutters, so silent below his sniveling stutters, “M’so sorry, Sweetheart. This is all my fucking fault.” 

You shake into his chest, face nuzzling and desperate to smell his scent again—tired from all the yelling and fighting. It was still late, you still needed to go to work tomorrow…but Simon. 

Oh, Simon. How could he be so…him?

Your sobs are quieter than his, tiny cries that make the man’s arms tighten around you every time. Hands coming up, you can’t stop the way you want to hold him; how you wish to keep him close to you and push him away all at once. How dare he? 

How dare he still make you love him after all he’d put you through? 

Simon sags to the floor with you in his hold, head bowed and trying to gasp down his vulnerability as tears stain your shoulder. It’s as if the realization that he’d made a mistake had broken him back down to when he was young, past hatred of messing up infesting his brain like maggots. A fear of it, even. 

The man presses quick, panicked kisses to your neck as his breath hitches every other second, rocking you back and forth. 

“Didn’t mean to do it,” Simon utters. “Didn’t mean for it to hurt you—” 

He breaks off and you realize that despite the years Simon’s mind was still very much fragile when it came to home life. You blink and take a deep breath, unable to get out of his unrelenting grip. 

Your hand travels up to find the back of his head, spreading through his hair and massaging his flesh. When things got bad you used to do this with him. Give the man something to focus on so he could pass through his hysteria quicker.

Simon’s ribcage bangs against yours, nearly hyperventilating with how he’s trying to hide his small grunts and whines.

“Simon,” you clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down as seriousness sets in your tone. “Simon, breathe.” 

Your ears twitch, noticing him listen to you as he takes down a long gasp of air and breathes out in puffs on your neck—hot and humid. 

“Ember…”

“Shh,” interrupting, you shush him in tiny whispers, still rubbing at his head. “Brown-Eyes, just sit here, okay?” You feel a jerky nod, his fingers squeezing your flesh off and on as he mimics your own lung pattern. 

It’s a few minutes before he goes completely still again, and you feel the burn of shame from his face in your clutch. The relationship was strained—or whatever you could call this—but you never wanted to see him in pain. Never.  

You knew he was better when he sighs deeply, completely going limp in your arms; great weight leaning into you as you lean back to the cabinets to help with the pure might of his physique. With a slow hand, you un-velcro his vest and his gear, letting it hit the floor with dull thumps and clatters. 

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t move to help or hinder. You would give anything to know what he was thinking. 

“M’sorry,” Simon whispers and you respond accordingly, softly.

“You’ve already said that, Love.” He grunts, taking in a long, deep breath. 

“Need you t’know it.” 

“...I do.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes and stave off your anger at everything happening right now. While it would feel better to yell at him until dawn, what would that even achieve? Everything had needed to be said, had been. And you’d never felt lighter than at this moment. 

You knock your head against him, the both of you panting for breath and hands vibrating with leaving adrenaline. Sweaty and twitchy. 

“You never should have done that, Simon.” Whispering, you sigh. “I needed you. I needed you here. With me.” He stays still, but you feel his lips press deeper into your pulse. You’re practically in his lap, back to the woodgrain. 

In a moment of weakness, or pure longing, you pull his head back and situate your hands at his cheeks, looking over his scars and his broken skin as he lets you move him how you wish. His half-lidded, red, eyes stare—grip around you not letting up. 

Simon doesn’t speak as, unprompted, you kiss the shattered bridge of his nose; you only feel the fluttering of his lashes as they tickle your cheeks. 

“I was scared of myself.” He mutters. “After they died…” His family. “I didn’t want to put you in danger, Ember. Not you.”

“We would have figured it out, Simon. You know that, deep down, you do.” Brown eyes find yours as you tilt his head. 

“You sure?” He asks, desperate for an answer even though he doesn’t know himself. 

Thumbs run up and down his stubble. Your face creases, “...I don’t know. But we could have tried.” 

Simon’s eyes close tightly, and his face tilts to press his lips to your palm, quivering breath exhaled with the strength of an open balloon. Your ring was still stuck in his digging grip, and it was never going to leave for the rest of the night. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, gravely voice lax. 

Studying him now, in this light, knowing he was so afraid of what he might do if he got into an episode, you were stabbed with agony in your heart. To be that afraid of yourself to that magnitude was nearly unimaginable to you.

Nearly. 

“What now?” You ask lowly, the last remnants of tears drying as Simon opens his eyes slowly, looking back at you. 

“Don’t know.” He admits. “I have to leave.”

“I have work tomorrow,” you relate. Your teeth find your lip, biting it. 

A small awkward chokehold captures the both of you. The reality was that both of you were akin to strangers again—such was the curse of lost years and trials you’d faced along the way. 

Brown-Eyes and Ember were dead, yet you still called their names like phantoms of sleek black fabric and chained recollections of a boy with red cheeks and a girl with muddy shoes. The walks to school were there, the dates, and the late nights spent in good company. Touches to skin and open-mouthed kisses. Fireflies that whizzed and the glinting of gold as wind ran through the willows.

Dark corruption stained the faint idea of happiness; of a good world. This was not reality. It was some joke of an existence. 

If life were fair, Simon Riley would have never grown up in that house—his father wouldn’t have latched onto his brother and done dark deeds to wrap the little brown-eyed boy in red tissue paper and barbed wire. A present and sheen of mild sociopathy; separation of any pain or torment. A fighting boy. A boy born with blood on his hands and stuck behind his eyes every time he swung a fist. 

It was a curse to love him. And it was a curse that burned your soul with his very name. 

“Are you going to go?” You ask, eyes blank but yearning for what little comfort you can grab. It had been so long.  Simon blinks, his head still in your hands; body not moving.

He knows he should. He isn’t sure if there’s anything left for him here or not. 

Simon connects his head to yours and you still. “Do you want me to?” 

“Do you love me?” You blurt, blinking at him and confused. Simon’s lips part. “Or if you walk out that door do I plan on never seeing you again?” 

You're about to open your mouth and continue before his own slots perfectly against it.

You gasp lightly, taken aback but in no way opposed. He still felt exactly the same, flesh still tasting metallic and tinged with violence down to his DNA; raised with survival instincts as his greatest ally. Until you. 

With you survival became secondary. 

Your hands go to card through his hair, latching and lightly pulling as Simon’s body shivers; growling against your lips in a dance of heated flesh and damp cheeks. Hearts hammer with the restraint of years. 

“I would never make you beg for my love,” he murmurs between lapsing passes of his mouth, open kisses and dark glances. “Tell me where you want me to be.”

You whimper against him and he goes back in, pressing the base of your skull to the cabinet as hands grip and slide, kneading your skin. 

“Tell me,” Simon whispers. Pleads through grunts. “Ember, tell me.”

“Here,” you admit brokenly, pulling him closer to you as you’re lifted and placed on the countertop. “I need you here, Simon. I need you with me.” 

Fingers capture your chin, keeping your head angled up as your eyes beg. Lips bush with every word, gazes wild as if two leopards locking jaws over a kill. 

“Fight to get me back.” Brown sparks with purpose, a small puff of air hitting your mouth as eyes darken over. In this moment, you do not know if you’re dying or living. “Make it right.”

“Affirmative.” Simon moves his head back, taking your ring and looping the cord around his neck, he keeps it there as you watch, breathless. Your face creases with question. The man’s lips flicker when he sees this, coming back and grasping your hips as you instinctually latch to his waist. 

“I’ll give it back when I’ve earned the right for you to be called mine again. Seems I have work to do, Sweetheart.” He kisses you once more, firm and true. “First, I’ll ‘ave to figure out if my Girl can get her spark back, yeah? I’ve proper gone and fucked it up.” 

That night you lay in the heap of limbs and sheets that couple the both of you together. In the morning the questions would start, and Simon knew you’d take nothing short of the truth. 

And he’d give you it. All of it. 

Because Simon Riley knows well enough that you don’t go and bite the hand that feeds twice. Certainly not when it was you. Certainly not when it offers a love he would never hope to find again, in this life or the next.

So you keep the other close and sag into a deep slumber, not to wake for a long, long time. 

And you’d both never slept better

TAGS:

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[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 4: This thing called love, I just can’t handle it

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 4 preview:

Jade! I’m so happy to see you! You look wonderful today. I mean you always look wonderful, so handsome! Oh, you look so cool as a human, not that you don’t look cool as an eelmer, but you’re always so cool and handsome and I just love you so much! I love, love, lovelovelovelove— Oh…  Jade (unfortunately) was looking back at you, thoughts of affection ramming through his head.  Darling! You’re so cute! You look so ethereal under the lights of Octavinelle, the blue reflects wonderfully in your eyes. You always look so angelic, though, but especially now that the color of the sea can act as a scenic environment for your presence. Oh, I love you~ I love you, I love you, I love you— Between the two’s thoughts fighting for space in your cramped mind, and you’re pretty sure you could feel a migraine coming on. 

[wc} - 8,150

[notes] - *crab raves* finally, struggled with it but it's out. i got done kinda setting up the characters and their dynamics so chapters should have an easier time getting out

back to chapter list

Chapter 4: This thing called love? I just can’t handle it

The liquid in your cat shaped mug (courtesy of Cater) slowly turned from a light purple back to a soft creamy brown as a few drops from your small vial of mauve liquid dripped into your drink.

One, two, and that’s three drops for me and for Grim…

Placing the vial back in your pocket, you set Grim’s own morning drink, a small cup of hot cocoa with the tiniest of marshmallows, to the side. The barely rising sun indicated it was just before 6 in the morning, so Grim, and most of the dorm was still asleep. 

You settled in on the nook of the windowsill facing the entrance of the dorm. From here, you could see the Hall of Mirrors, Sam’s shop, and the alchemy building. 

A loud yawn startled you as James entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and blinking at you owlishly. 

“Good morning James.” You said softly, waving. James mumbled what you assume was a ‘good morn’ back as he opened 

Frustrated grunts and growls emanated from James as he wrestled the, evidently well sealed, package of cereal. You think it was this world’s version of Captain Crunch, the image of a well-dressed pirate in red with a gleaming hook and mischievous grin staring back at you across the kitchen table. 

“Damn this—why do they make these things so hard to open!?” James hissed, throwing the colorful cardboard box across the room, nearly hitting a sleepy Tony in the face.

“Ack! Ayo?” Tony rapidly looked back and forth between the offending material and James, who was now yanking at the plastic bag of cereal with his teeth. Growling, he used his canines to rip the bag apart so that he could finally have a core part of a valuable, healthy breakfast. 

He was failing miserably. 

“Can you watch it? I’m walkin’ here—are you fightin’ a bag of cereal?” Tony asked incredulously. 

Taking a pause, James looked up, bag still in mouth, and gave a muffled “Yesh.”

“…and losin’?”

“…” Flushing, James let go of the bag and responded, “It’s my favorite.”

He yelped as one of the other freshmen walked past him and flicked his forehead. 

“Hey, what gives Yakub?”

Yabuk, one of the Scarabia students in your care, shoved James aside with his broad shoulders and tall frame, as he began to take out items from the small pantry in the corner. You weren’t sure what Yabuk was, you think either a beastman or fae based on the slight point in his ears and the way his bright red hair was ever so slightly feathery. 

In fact, you're pretty sure that it was actually feathers, the plumy hairline starting from the peak between his eyebrows and turning into a prominent widow’s peak. His hair, which was undercut and slicked up like a parrot, was quite striking against his dark brown skin and sharp yellow eyes. 

Framing his narrow face were a pair of red macaw feather earrings, which you think might’ve been plucked from his own head, as the blue and green ombre matched that on the tips of his hair/feathers. 

Yabuk sighed, deciding to turn and address James, who was back to gnawing at the bag. 

“How about this, how about you fight the rest of the cereal by yourself, and I’ll courageously make pancakes for those of us who want a little warmth in our mornings.”

James sneered at him, deciding that the best course of action was to vigorously shake his head in order to tear the bag open. He succeeded, after the bag split down the middle and spilled half of the yellow, red, and blue contents on the floors, where it would no doubt be vacuumed by the never-ending ravenous Grim. 

You lifted a hand to cover your mouth in an effort to hide the fact that you were seconds away from laughing your head off. 

…Uwwwah. 

James dejectedly poured himself a bowl of cereal, careful to not spill the rest of it. Deciding to be helpful, you walked over from your nook in the corner, surprised no one had yet noticed you. 

“Here, I’ll get the broom—”

“GWAH!” James shrieked at your “sudden” appearance. You wonder if it was just early morning fatigue that made him forget you were there, or if he genuinely didn’t process you sitting at the windowsill. 

“H-housewarden—I mean Prefect—I mean (Name)—” The poor man yelped as he knocked his bowl off the counter with his elbow. 

OH SHIT—

Yabuk, also squawking in surprise, managed to catch the bowl before it fell on the ground, wincing at the cold milk dripping down the slides onto his hand. 

“Hah—got it.” Clearing his throat, Yabuk gave you a nod. “Good morning, Housewarden (Name), would you like a pancake?”

You too had been reaching for the bowl, bent over in an awkward position between Yabuk and James (who was internally screeching at the proximity between you two). 

“Ah, it’s fine, thank you, Yabuk.” You stood back, slightly puffing your chest out as you stretched your back, sighing in relief at your upper spine popping. 

“I have to go in here soon anyways, I’ll be out of the dorm for most of today.” 

Tony, who had poured himself a cup of coffee from the still warm pot you’d brewed earlier, piped up, “Oh yeah, ain’t we ‘upposed ta be going over to Octavinelle in halfa-hour?”

You winced and nodded. “Yep…that’s right.” 

Going over to the dragon’s lair. Or would it be the eel’s lair? Octopus’s lair technically…

“Ah yes! I’ve been ready to head back to our actual dorm for sometime now!” You jumped, noticing that Aspen had been watching your interaction from the doorway for who knows how long. 

Aspen gave a closed mouth smile, tilting his head. Can’t even be bothered to wake up early in the morning? Pathetic.

You raised your brow at that, deciding to return his smile with a polite one of your own as you greeted him, “Good morning Aspen, yes I’m aware—”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t keep us waiting, Prefect.” You didn’t miss the way he nearly hissed your nickname as he walked over to Tony and swiped his cup. 

“Hey! That was mine—”

“Ah, well, I’m sure you didn’t mean to do so on purpose.” Ignoring Tony’s grabby hands, he continued, “After all, being a magicless human for so long, and just becoming a housewarden so recently, I’m sure you’re still trying to manage everything.”

He made a face as he sipped from the cup, disgusted, most likely from the quality of your 2 thaumark grounds from Sam’s. Aspen decided to hand back the coffee to a pouting Tony, who was giving his friend the side-eye. 

“I have to wait on you anyways,” He sighed, turning around to head to the common area. “I’ll be in the living room, once you’re ready!”

He ended his sentence in a sing-songy tone, waving over his shoulder. You sighed, the 9 hours of sleep slipping away into exhaustion rather than rest, as you finished your now cooled coffee in just a few gulps. 

Myah! What’s this guy’s problem? Did someone steal his tuna? I bet it was Wynfred. Definitely Wynfred.  

Grim trotted on all fours to you, using the island barstool as leverage to jump onto your shoulder and affectionately smash his cheek into yours. 

“Mornin’ Henchman! Why did you leave the bed so early?” Grim pouted, hanging off of your shoulder as he winced at the sight of the hot cocoa you’d prepared. 

Mrrah, I don’t like the lavender taste! Grim grumbled in his head, taking the small mug with his paws and downing the now lukewarm drink like a child with a cup of bitter cough syrup. Next time, I get to choose the taste, sashimi-flavored, hehe!

You sighed, grimacing at the thought of a tuna flavored coffee syrup, “We gotta go to meet with Azul, remember?”

“Nooo!” Grim whined, fiddling with his mug. You tsked as cocoa spilled over. “I still don’t trust that shifty octopus, I still have nightmares of waking up with an anemone on my head again.”

Grim was still whining as he finished off the cocoa at your insistence. You yourself also finished your drink, placing both cups in the sink. A Heartslabyul student rushed over to clean them for you, muttering something about Riddle warning them to be helpful. 

Please tell him I’m good, I don’t want to get collared my first week like that freshman last year.

You withheld a snort, biting the inside of your cheek instead. You leaned down to whisper, “Thanks, I’ll tell Riddle that you’re doing a good job.” to the student, smiling at his beaming face. 

“Grim, let’s surprise everyone with our dorm uniforms today!” Grim whooped and jumped back down from your shoulder to climb up the stairs. He’d been so excited that you two had gotten proper uniforms, as he claimed that it was time everyone started taking him seriously as a mage. 

Once again, the ghosts had taken liberty to create your dorm uniform. Eliza had given them some of her old dresses from when she was alive as an apology for taking over your dorm. They’d decided to take those, as well as some of their own clothes to get you all dressed up. Your dorm uniform was relatively simple, compared to the other’s, but was comfortable. 

They’d given you two versions, noticing your affinity for both skirts and pants. Your top was made with a striped cream button-up blouse adorned with a silver collar chain sporting two mauve crystal ball pins. The top was accompanied by a dark blue cloak, reminiscent of the ghosts’ own capes. Of the two outfit variants, they had managed to find a dark gray and blue, front corset dress from Eliza’s collection. She had suggested to Bernard that you wear it over the blouse along with dark tights and her old, brown chunky-sole loafer shoes with the dress. 

The other outfit was recommended by Albert, who claimed he was rather fashionable while alive (Earnest gawked at that, so you’re not sure how true that claim was). This one had a vest, the same color as the cloak, with dark gray, high-waisted pants decorated with silver buttons along the waistband and pockets. You wore the same shoes as with the previous outfit, as they were in surprisingly good condition despite their age. 

Eliza must have taken really good care of her stuff before and after she passed. I hope she and Puffy are happily married in the afterlife. Maybe they’ll visit again…without the whole suitor stuff, though. 

You hummed as you decided to put on the dress version of the outfit. It was obvious that the clothes were older, time and dust took a toll on them, but you had to admit it was nice having a dorm uniform. Plus, the age of your clothes matched the appearance of a now fixed, but still full of character Ramshackle. Like an old Victorian ghost still trapped in their home. 

“Henchhuman! Help me with this cloak thing!” Grim was grumbling as he had trouble tying the bow of his own mini-cloak. He really looked like a mini-version of the ghosts, he just needed a hat! 

“Coming, coming!” You crouched down to help him, humming. “There we go. You look great, Grim!”

Hmph! Of course, I do! You don’t look bad yourself, henchhuman. 

Grim grinned as he jumped up to your shoulder, watching as you grabbed the hair pin with the Ramshackle crest and clipped your hair back. 

“We look like the real deal! Finally, gonna get some respect here, mehehe!” 

You and Grim shared a soft laugh as you pressed your foreheads together. The two of you rushed down the stairs, Grim gripping your shoulder so as to not fall off. Aspen and Tony were dressed in their school uniforms. Though, you noticed, Tony’s uniform was more hastily put together, vest and jacket unbuttoned and the tie messily put together. 

Aspen, who was prim and properly dressed, fussed over Tony’s appearance before noticing you and slamming his hands back to his sides. 

“Hello Prefect, took your time to look nice I see” Trying to impress? I still don’t see the appeal. “May we leave now? I’d like to actually be on time.”

Tony shoved an elbow into Aspen’s stomach, the latter smacking the former’s arm in retaliation as they shared a look. 

“Um, yeah. Follow me.” You gestured as you passed by Wynfred by the front door, who was currently trying to yank something out of Silas’s hands. 

“Give that to me—Oh! Prefect!” Wynfred happily greeted you as he managed to take the item from Silas’s hands and shove it in his pocket. “Off to Octavinelle? Will you be coming back for us Pomefiore students?” 

You nodded and replied, “Yes, but probably in the evening since I’ll have to do Scarabia and Heartslabyul first. Grim and I will both be out all day…”

Humming, you narrowed your eyes at Wynfred and listened to his thoughts. 

How nice, my club meeting was canceled today, so I’m bored. Maybe I’ll just watch everyone and see what they get up to.

“Hmm, hey Wynfred?” The redhead perked at the mention of his name. 

“Yes?”

“Can you do me a favor? Watch over Ramshackle and make sure no one gets into any trouble or anything like that. I have a chore board for tasks that Grim and I normally do around the dorm and school, but…”

You gestured to Aspen and Tony, the former looking and thinking about the inconvenience of stopping. 

“Well, we’re pretty busy now, so it would be a great help if—oh!”

Wynfred grabbed onto your hands, eyes dazzling and shimmering with glee. He yanked you close to him until your noses were nearly pressing together as he started yammering. 

“Of course I’ll be in charge! Oh, I’m so flattered that you’d ask me of that. You know I’m an exceptional leader of my coven, and I was back home as well, so you can depend on me! I’ll make sure everything is in tip-top shape, don't worry bout a thing! Off you go now!”

Wynfred gently pushed you out the front door, Aspen and Tony following, as he turned to start calling out to the remaining freshmen. 

“Alright! Housewarden (Name) put me in charge, so listen up!”

Geez, I hope this isn’t going to bite me in the butt later.  

The walk to the mirrors was short and quiet, on your end at least. A few steps behind you, Aspen and Tony trailed along, softly conversing between themselves. Based on their thoughts, you think they were arguing about something, or someone.

Gah! You’re more jealous than the nereids!

Tony’s voice rang through your head as you turned your head to look back at the duo, who was now muttering angrily at Aspen. The latter looked almost pouty, looking at the ground as he hissed back something to his friend. The image was actually pretty funny, with the near 1-foot difference between them, Aspen had to lean down fairly drastically to whisper with Tony. 

Gods, you’re so annoying, like a suckerfish, just take my side!

Tony, on the other hand, craned his neck up to reach Aspen’s ear, and kept darting his head into his friend’s eyesight every time Aspen looked away to pout further. 

Blah, blah, blah, jealous my ass, maybe I just don’t like them!

“It’s too early for them to be this loud, henchhuman! Make them stop!” Grim whined from his place in your arms, glaring at the pair over your shoulders. You cradled him as he sleepily rested his little chin on the crook of your neck.

“Let them be, they’re not that loud, be honest.” as you said that, you decided to turn your head to look back at the freshmen. 

Aspen locked eyes with you as he looked up at the same time you did, narrowing them as you turned back forward. You could still feel his stare burn into your back as the four of you turned the corner to the Hall of Mirrors. 

YOU! You’re nothing special, just a stupid human. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you, IhateyouIhateyouIhateyouIhatehatehatehatehatehate—

You abruptly turned around as you arrived in front of the Octavinelle mirror, disrupting Aspen’s little chant of loathing, to address the pair. 

“Before we enter, a few things!” You smiled at the pair, listing out your tasks with your free hand as you spoke. 

“First, I need to meet with Azul myself to work out the schedule for you and your two other dormmates. I believe you’ll get fitted into your dorm uniforms with your vice while I do. Second, you’ll get trained for the working lounge while I go meet with Heartslaybul’s housewarden-”

Grim jumped from your arms to place his paws on his hips and continue your sentence confidently. 

“The Great Grim will come get you after your training since my henchhuman will have to move on immediately to the other dorms, so you better do what I say-” 

“Wait, is the cat actually our vice housewarden?” Tony asked with a deadpan expression. “I thought that was a joke.”

“Hey! How dare you mock the greatest mage of all time? Bow down and beg for forgiveness—mmpphh!”

You quickly snatched Grim up and covered his mouth as you gave a tight smile. 

“Third, once you're back at the dorm, please make sure the Heartslabyul students all leave with Grim, and let the Scarabia students know that they’ll be next. Afterward, you can do what you want as long as you're back to the Ramshackle lounge by 5:30! Any questions?”

You could see the metaphorical roll of Aspen’s eyes as he thought, No-

“Yeah!” Tony raised his hand up, akin to an eager kindergartener in his favorite class, as he asked, “Is Jade gonna be meetin’ us at the Mostro Lounge or somethin’? He’s usually off hikin’ in the mornin’.” 

Yep, just as I intended. Thank god he’s consistent at least, same as last year.

You let out a sigh of relief at that, making Aspen and Tony share a look. Though, they seemed to think your sigh was for a different reason. 

Hmpf. “Disappointed, are we?” Aspen grumbled, hissing as Tony jabbed an elbow in his ribs in response. 

Tony chuckled, “Aw, don’t worry Prefect, don’t be sad, I’m sure he’ll be back soon! You can say hi to him then!” Ain’t that cute, Jade sure knows how to pick ‘em. 

“W-what?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, noting that both of their faces matched your expression. Your grasp on Grim’s squirming body had weakened enough for him to slip out and climb up your arm to sit on your shoulder. 

“Why would they be disappointed?” Grim questioned, “Jade’s too scary for my henchhuman to be hanging around!”

“Grim! Be nice! No, it’s not that, I just hardly know him.” you hurriedly clarified as Aspen’s face turned to one of elation and Tony’s of disbelief.

Thank. The. Fucking. Sea Witch.

No fucking way?!

“Whaddya mean ya hardly know him? All summer, he’s been-ow!” Tony yelped as Aspen pinched his side, glaring at him as he instead turned to give you a smile. 

“What he means to say is: you’ve been a hot topic all summer, Jade speaks…highly,” Aspen’s face soured as he said that. “Of you, so we assumed you were rather close, is that not the case?”

Grim snorted as his thoughts spoke to you. Yeah, I bet he wished he was reeeeal close to ya, huh (Name)?

You let out a nervous laugh as you stammered out, “No, uh, we’re not close at all. Now come on.”

Gesturing to the pair to follow you into the mirror, your vision was blinded by the light of the mirror. Its lavender shimmering morphed into the underwater dorm, a bubble developing around your small group once you’d made it far enough in. The tranquil ocean that Octavinelle resided in never ceased to enchant you, with the soft bluish gray seabed and the light purple reefs, not to mention the clear glass walls of the actual dorm building itself, built right into the lavender reefs. 

Despite it being so early in the morning, you could see a numerous number of students running through the halls of the dormitory from the aquarium walls. Peeking behind you, you smiled at Aspen and Tony’s faces of delight, the latter pressing against the bubble until his face was smooshed against it, grinning like a madman.

“Yooooo, this looks sick! Aspy, look at all the reefs!” 

“Aspy?” Grim asked while you hid your smile behind your hand. Aspen’s cheeks turned a light purple as he kicked the back of Tony’s knee. 

I thought I told him not to call me that here!

“It’s a childhood nickname…” Aspen trailed off, his eyes lighting up as the Mostro Lounge entrance came into view. “Woah…it really is in the skeleton of an ancient whale.”

You tilted your head at the two as you asked, “Is this your first time in your dorm? You guys didn’t get to see it after orientation?”

Tony shook his head. “Nah, when we found that we’re crowded, we’re sent over to ya right awayyyYYYEEH-”

The bubble, once past the magical barrier separating the water from the café entrance, popped, causing you, Grim, and Aspen to land on your feet just fine, if a bit unbalanced. Tony, who’d been leaning down farther and farther against the bubble, fell face-first into the ground. 

Aspen chuckled in response, looking back at you with pursed lips. So if you hardly know him…then why…

“So back to what I was saying earlier…what’s the nature of your relationship to Azul and the twins then? They, Jade especially, spoke of you quite often.”

The thought of a love struck Jade talking off Floyd and Azul’s ears all summer with the same level of intensity that his thoughts betrayed made a strange feeling pit in your stomach. 

Ugh, maybe I’m getting sick. I think…

“Like what Grim was saying, I don’t really know Jade outside of class or even Floyd. Actually, I’m closer to Azul though…we’ve been through…a lot together last year. Plus, we hung out over the summer!” 

Aspen nodded, grunting as Tony used his arm to yank himself back up.

“Right…you and the other overblot students had to meet with Crowley, right?” 

You perked up in surprise, as did Grim, who whipped his head around to Aspen and growled.

“Some random freshman ain’t supposed to know that. Have you been snoopin’ around? I’ll cast a whole spell of hurt at cha if ya have!”

“Grim!” You growled, gaze strict, at your familiar as the fire in his ears grew in his growing ire. “Behave yourself. He's right, though, Aspen? Please explain.”

Aspen tensed while Tony abruptly explained, “Our families are…tight-knit! They all do business—”

“Heh, you mean ‘business’?” Grim air-quoted as he scoffed. 

“We do business together. When the headmaster told his parents, they told ours, so we learned pretty soon after it happened.”

Aspen, quick to agree, nodded along. “Yes! We all…grew up together?” 

You squint your eyes at the pair, hoping that your, admittedly halfhearted, glare would provoke one of them to either blurt out a further explanation, or their thoughts would betray something. 

Instead, a synchronized screech was echoing through both of their heads. You took a long, deep breath, and sighed heavily. 

“I’ll ask your housewarden about it later instead, how about that?” With a cheeky smile, you turned back around briskly walking to the host stand of the Mostro Lounge as Aspen and Tony  quickly followed after, resuming their earlier bickering.

Looking over your shoulder, you smiled again, softer this time, at the two. The way they bantered, brushed and shoved each other with their shoulders, reminded you of your own favorite duo.

I’ll have to make sure I say hi to my boys before I see Riddle.

Aspen eyes met yours, widening slightly as a soft lilac blush formed on his cheeks. He looked to the side instead, huffing in his head.

What are you smiling at, stupid human. Turn back around and…huh?

Still smiling, you turned to see what had taken Aspen’s attention, before running face-first into someone’s chest. You and the very tall stranger tumbled a bit before they grabbed your shoulders to help steady you, grasping you gently like you were a precious stone. 

“Oof! Sorry, I—”

“It’s quite alright, Prefect.” My pearl~ “Perhaps you should pay more attention, you might bump into someone less savory, fuhuhu!”

“EEK!” You rapidly jumped back, Grim falling off your shoulder with an ‘oomph’ as your back smacked into Aspen and Tony. “Jade! I thought you were hiking! You usually do on Saturdays.”

Jade, his tall frame now in full view, smiled as he leaned down to tower over you. “Oh? I hadn’t realized that you’ve memorized my schedule.” 

Aaaah! Did you want to make sure we’d bump into each other, too? My sweet, you can ask for my time any day of the week!

“NO!” The volume of your yelp made everyone jump as you turned a deep pink. You laughed nervously, waving your hands rapidly. 

“Ahaha! No, I just remember from last year that you’d be out by the woods near Ramshackle! I figured you’d keep up the same routine.”

Oh, of course. Still, I’m so happy they remember, my darling pearl! I love you~

“I see,” Jade closed his eyes as he continued smiling, chuckling, “I usually would, but today I decided to make an exception.”

You heard Tony mumble under his breath, “Gee, wonder why.” Aspen shoved an elbow into Tony’s ribs, shushing at his friend before smiling shyly at Jade, a small lilac blush on his cheeks. 

“Hi Jade,” Aspen waved, voice soft and almost meek. 

Jade! I’m so happy to see you! You look wonderful today. I mean you always look wonderful, so handsome! Oh, you look so cool as a human, not that you don’t look cool as an eelmer, but you’re always so cool and handsome and I just love you so much! I love, love, lovelovelovelove—

Oh… 

“Hello Aspen. Tony. It’s wonderful to see you again so soon,” Jade’s attention shifted to the two momentarily. “It’s like we never left home.”

He (unfortunately) was looking back at you, thoughts of affection ramming through his head. 

Darling! You’re so cute! You look so ethereal under the lights of Octavinelle, the blue reflects wonderfully in your eyes. You always look so angelic, though, but especially now that the color of the sea can act as a scenic environment for your presence. Oh, I love you~ I love you, I love you, I love you—

Between the two’s thoughts fighting for space in your cramped mind, and you’re pretty sure you could feel a migraine coming on. 

“Ugh, my head.” You rubbed your temples as Grim climbed back up on your shoulders, hanging himself off you. 

“Ya good, Prefect?” Tony asked. His voice sounded concerned. 

“Yeah, um, are you going to be training the two while I meet with Azul?” 

Jade’s smile grew as he leaned down, just slightly, to meet your eyes. 

“Floyd will be training them, and you’ll be meeting with me instead.”

What! Nooooo! Not Floyd, he still pinches my cheeks…

Aspen seemed upset, both internally and visibly, as his face soured. Tony, on the other hand, brightened and pumped his fist. 

“Yes! Floyd, my boy!” 

Jade chuckled and reached over to ruffle Tony’s head. “Do try and stay out of trouble, for poor Aspen’s sake. I’ll be too busy with our dear Prefect to keep an eye on the three of you.”

“Oh, yes.” Aspen drawled, “Our ‘dear Prefect’ will need all the assistance they can get. Did you know, they didn’t even realize that they had to sign off on their students’ club registrations? Our paperwork was barely submitted to the guidance mage yesterday!”

Hmph, I still don’t see the appeal in them. They’re such a clumsy human. Barely a housewarden. You can do so much better, Jade!

Ooooooh. That makes more sense now…wait, NO.

“Are you sure that I’m not meeting with Azul?” You laughed nervously, the panic setting in. “I double-checked with him yesterday, he said that we were still set!”

“Something came up.” Jade explained. The image of Azul’s bedroom door with a broken lock, door shaking as Azul’s muffled voice shouted through the wooden door, entered your brain. 

You raised a brow and slowly replied, “Oh. Should we go check, or?”

“Nope. If you’ll please follow me, I will drop off our newest employees with Floyd.” Jade turned, looking over his shoulder. “You and I will have our meeting in the VIP Room.”

Alone~

You cringed, a shiver going up your spine as you gave Jade a tight smile, gritting out, “Greeeeat. Cool. That’s fine. Yep.”

Jade is either oblivious or maliciously ignorant to your distress as he guides the small group to the dining room. As you approached, you could hear the bickering of familiar voices, one angrier than the others. 

Near the bar was an irate Azul, arguing with a bored looking Floyd. Based on what you could hear, Azul was asking Floyd about why his bedroom lock was jerry-rigged to lock him instead. 

“IDK Azul, I didn’t do it, wasn’t feeling up to anything like that today.” Floyd whined, flopping his head around before looking over to your group’s direction. He perked up as he noticed you, more specifically, noticed Tony. 

“HEY! TONY!” 

“HEY! FLOYD!”

Tony ran up to the taller man, dodging his attempts to grab him and ruffle his hair. The two played a small game of chase as Azul came up to you with a pleasant smile. 

“(Name)! Welcome back, I see you’ve taken on the role of housewarden quite well.” Azul nodded his head at you in greeting, directing his gaze to a stiff Aspen as he continued, “None of my students are giving you any trouble, I hope?”

You had the theory that his question wasn’t really for you, as he eyed Aspen up and down. His thoughts confirmed it, though. 

Aspy, you better have not been a pain, I know how you can be. 

Said individual was pointedly staring at one of the aquarium walls, pretending to be enthralled with the reefs and fish. 

Why do you even care, it’s not like they’re an actual mage. Just, stop staring… Please…

“Yeah, they’ve all been great, don’t worry about it.” You answered, smiling as you noticed the freshman relax. 

Yeah, I’ve been great! Hmph! Take that Zully!

Zully? Huh.

Azul smiled back, shifting his weight on his cane. “Good, I’m glad to hear. I apologize for not coming to greet you myself, it seems that someone—”

He directed a glare to Jade, who was still standing next to you with a small smile.

“—tried to lock me in my room, you wouldn’t happen to know who that was, would you Jade?”

“No, I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.” Damn, I should’ve added a spell too. I was in a rush to get to them first. “Would you like me to investigate?” 

“WoULd yOu LiKE mE TO INvesTIgATe” Oh shut up Jade, I bet it was you. 

“Yes please, that would be quite helpful, thank you, Jade.” Azul gestured for you to follow him. “Shall we?”

“Oh, we’re meeting, right cool, yes!” You sighed in relief as you rushed away from Jade to Azul’s side. “Just us right?”

“Us and Jade.” You screamed internally. “He’s in charge of the schedules, training, and position placements, so he’ll have to be involved.”

Aaah, at least we’ll be together in the same room again. I wonder if you’ll get flustered if I sit too close? Maybe I can get Azul to step out so we can be on our own…

Jade tapped you against Azul’s desk, hands reaching down to caress your thighs, before trailing down and making you wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress was unlaced and shirt unbuttoned to reveal your chest and neck, covered in hickies and bite marks.  Your hands were running through Jade’s hair tenderly, holding him close as you shared a deep kiss.  “Mmm~ Jade! Hurry, we’re gonna get caught if we—AH!” You yelped as Jade reached under your dress to tear a hole into your tights for easier access. Jade shushed you with another kiss, swallowing a loud moan as his hand worked you.  “We’ll get caught if you don’t stay quiet, unless you want to get caught~ Is that what you want? For everyone to know that you’re mine? For everyone to know that the one making you cry out in pleasure is me?”

Your face was rapidly turning red as you tripped over your feet, stumbling as Azul and Jade both reached out to catch you. Instead, you straightened and rushed out of their grasp, looking at Grim with a strained smile. 

It’s just for a bit. You can deal with Jade for a bit. 

“Okay! Grim, please go take care of the Scarabia students, and tell Kalim and Jamil I said hi. I’ll see you later!” 

Hmm? Oh yeah. “Got it! Hehe, I got a whole group of henchhumans to be in charge of now!”

Grim ran off, happy and in blissful ignorance, as you turned to address Azul, “I just remembered, I will have to go to Diasomnia today as well, so I can’t stay for long.”

Azul raised a brow, humming, “Is that so? I thought you didn’t have any Diasomnia students on your roster.”

“They don’t.” Jade answered, fond thoughts bouncing around his brain as he watched you walk. 

“I believe they should only have ours, Heartslabyul, and Pomefiore’s freshmen. I’m surprised that you also have Scarabia students, Prefect.”

Are you stressed? Are all the students too much? I can help! Ask me for help and I’ll make sure you’re never bothered by your freshmen again! 

You huffed at the suggestion, replying, “Jamil let them take residence with me to have a bit of extra space, since they were getting close to being overcrowded. Silver didn’t want to burden me with more. That’s all.”

“How kind of him, though I have to wonder if it was really a decision all his own, or if a certain prince asked~” Azul let out a musical laugh, smirking at your glare. 

“Tsk, please.” You opened your mouth to refute Azul, pausing as you felt a dark, angry presence from behind you. 

Hmph, as if they’d need assistance from him! He’s off in Briar Valley while I’m the one here with you, he’s hardly reliable. I don’t like what you’re implying Azul, did something happen between them over the summer that you’re not telling me?! Do I have to ask your mother for your baby pictures?

Slow blinking, you kept your gaze straight ahead, Azul’s words becoming gibberish as Jade continued ranting in his head. He was becoming increasingly more annoyed at the thought of you interacting with Malleus over the summer. 

I’m willing to bet that you would’ve enjoyed visiting the Coral Sea instead, hm?

Huh? Seriously?

I hear it’s dreary in Briar Valley, I think the warm waters of the Rosarian reefs would’ve suited your disposition much better! 

It’s not dreary, only a bit… you’re one to talk, don’t you live in the cold deep sea? That’s probably drearier than anything else, you can’t even see anything!

I would’ve shown you the perfect sightseeing location at Atlantia! I’m willing to bet my terrariums that he would’ve taken you to see gargoyles.

So? I find them quite delightful, you know?

“Prefect? Is your head in the clouds?” Azul lightly tapped your forehead as he stopped in front of his office. “You seem a bit out of it. Tired?”

“Uh.” You shook your head and stuttered, “No, just lost in thought, let’s get started.”

Azul opened the door to his office, gesturing for you to enter first, as he and Jade quickly followed after. Surprisingly, the whole ordeal was rather smooth sailing, if Jade’s constant barrage of what you could only describe as internal love bombing.

Cute~

Azul had brought out 5 student files, one for each student in your care and gave you the copies of their information. Class and club schedules, student ID numbers, and lots of information about their school before NRC. Interestingly enough, Aspen and Tony’s files were... sparse, with only their student information on the file. But no mention of their life, hobbies, or family before NRC.

I like that dress on you, it makes you look quite posh. 

Aw, are you nervous? You always tap your leg when you are, is it Azul? Is it me? HOW CUTE! There’s no need to be nervous around me, darling~ I only wish to make you and every other being in this school know that you belong to me~

You tapped your leg faster before pausing and shifting in your seat instead. 

Geez, just how much are you watching me to notice stuff like that?

“Based on their schedules, they should all be able to work their 15 hours throughout five week days.” Azul handed you a few files to look at the class and club schedules of your Octavinelle students. Each did have about 3 hours per day that they were free for a shift. 

“That leaves their weekend open for any duties they may have for Ramshackle and club activities. Are there any issues that could occur on your dorm’s end?”

Shaking your head, you looked through the student’s schedules with mild curiosity. 

“No, probably not. The Heartslabyul students have taken up most of the chores at the dorm.” 

Oh, Tony’s one of the ones in Spelldrive? Heh, ironic. 

“I’m pretty sure Riddle instilled the fear of the Seven in them, before sending them off to me.”

Oh, looks like Aspen’s in Pop Music Club? Huh, doesn’t seem like the type. Man, I really didn’t pay attention to their club paperwork…

“My my, that does seem like the Riddle we know.” Azul chuckled, nodding as Jade refilled his cup of tea. “Not surprising knowing how fond he is of you, isn’t that right, Jade?”

“ISn’T thAT riGHt JAde?” Yes, I’m aware, quit mocking me you're not too skinny to make a meal of.  

“Oh yes, I’m quite aware. I’m sure you enjoy having such a protective friend, Prefect.” I can be protective! He’s nothing compared to me! “You do quite need it, with all the trouble you’ve gotten into.”

“Really?” You nervously laughed, half-hearted and soft. “I guess? He’s just being a good friend, that's all, I’m sure.”

Azul scoffed, “For being a friend, he does underestimate you. I still remember how you almost took Jade’s head off when we first met. Remember, when you charge in here demanding I free everyone?”

You blinked rapidly in confusion. “What? I never did that, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t remember? Hah! Jade, they don’t remember nearly smacking your face with a server’s plate!” Azul laughed as you continued to look on in confusion. 

Jade smiled, chuckling along. “Oh? I do. Quite vividly, really.”

An image, or you guess a memory, passed through your mind of you, very clearly, brandishing a large silver platter like a weapon. The memory's vision shifted, dodging your hits as you tried slamming the plate into Jade’s face. 

“You were quite angry that we took your 3 friends as anemones. A rare sight, seeing as you’re tended hearted, hm?”

Aaaaah! I look at that memory so fondly, you looked so beautiful, angry! Fighting is always the first step to a moray’s heart~ 

You choked on the cookie in your mouth, frantically reaching and gulping your own cup of tea. Choosing to ignore Azul’s snickering, and Jade’s internal fretting, you nervously gasp-laughed. 

“Oh, I guess? Probably why I don’t remember, aha.”

“Perhaps. Back to the topic at hand,” Azul gestured to the schedules and continued, “do you foresee any issues with the shift schedules Jade assigned?”

You looked again, noticing the blocks drawn in a few of the spare spots in blue pen. 

“Ah, no, it all looks good.” You looked at the clock, peeking at the time. “Did we cover everything? I’m supposed to be meeting Riddle in about 15.”

Azul and Jade turned to look at it as well, the former clicking his tongue in disappointment. 

“Oh my, yes, this has gone far longer than needed.” Azul squinted at Jade. “Jade, I thought you were keeping the time?”

I know you’re lovesick, but please! Your brain isn’t made of sea foam, you know?

“Apologies. I have been quite focused on the schedules, I do have to ensure that they are able to fill in a position at work.” Jade replied, humming as he cleared the table of your empty plates and cups. 

I was just so enthralled by my pearl’s loveliness. They’re breathtaking…my love. 

You’re not sure what’s worse: the raunchy daydreams, or these. Sentences so full of yearning and devotion that it almost made you feel flattered. 

I want to hear what they sound like out of breath, can you even moan with no air in your lungs? How could you when I’m eating them up with my tongue~

Nope. Actually, the raunchy ones are worse. 

“Well!” You got up, dusting the imaginary dirt off your outfit. “If that’s all, then I’ll be heading to Heartslabyul. Grim will be bringing the remaining Octavinelle later for training, they all had clubs this morning.”

Azul nodded, holding the VIP Room door open. “That works perfectly. I’ll have Jade escort you over.”

“What? No, no, no!” You laughed, waving your hands and shaking your head. “I’m perfectly find walking myself-”

“Nonsense, we are a dorm of gentlemen after all, Jade?”

Say something this time, I beg. I don’t want to hear you whining about clamming up again. 

“Of course, if you will, Prefect?” Thank you, Azul, perhaps I won’t eat you after all.

You stiffened, eyeing the arm Jade held out. With a resounding sigh, you nodded and ever so lightly wrapped a hand around his bicep. You chose to ignore the cheers in Jade’s head. 

“Okay, fine. Bye Azul, I’ll see you at the next housewarden meeting.” You waved as you and Jade made your way through the hall into the lounge’s main dining hall. It was fairly full, the Mostro Lounge was always busy over the weekends, and you could see Tony running around with Floyd. He was carrying two trays in each of his hands with ease, balancing drinks with little concern. 

What are you doing! Let go of Jade’s arm, you whore! Die die die diediediediediediedie—

You quickly swiped your hand back from Jade’s arm, noticing the small pout he gave at that. From the corner of your eye, you could see Aspen (and the rage that was practically emanating like an aura) seething at you. He was muttering to himself as he angrily cleaned the inside of a glass tumbler. It seemed that he was put at the bar to “train” though based on Floyd following around Tony, who was gossiping with him, Aspen wasn’t actually getting much training in. 

That’s right, you better take your filthy hands off of him, you’re a sorry excuse of a mage and an even worse excuse of a human! You’re not even that pretty, you gross little—oh crap you’re staring, look away look away!

Aspen turned a deep lavender, looking down at the glass in his hand like it was the most interesting thing since sliced bread. You gestured at Aspen and suggested to Jade, “It looks like Floyd kinda left Aspen to fend for himself, maybe you should help him out? I can make it to Heartslabyul just fine.”

“Hmm? Oh dear, I suppose you are correct.” Jade sighed, eyeing Floyd as he and Tony leaned against a wall, chatting away. 

“Though, I’m sure I can escort you and be back in a reasonable amount of time. It would be rude of me to abandon you so, especially when Azul asked me to do so.”

“It’s not that big of a deal…”

“Nonsense, let’s be off now.” Jade shushed any further concerns of you as he gently pushed you to the exit. He nodded to Aspen as you two walked by, mouthing ‘I’ll be back’ to the young man. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Aspen physically deflate at Jade leaving. Floyd noticed and gave his brother a wink, while Tony briefly frowned, looking between you, Jade, and Aspen. 

Just let me be around you a bit longer, my pearl.

You sighed, relaxing as Jade’s hand remained comfortably on your upper back. Though the thought of Jade cornering you in a spare empty room as you headed to the mirror made you warm up, Jade seemed remarkably relaxed around you, for once. 

It was weird, him just humming along without any screams or daydreams of fucking you. 

Weird…wait no! This is ideal, don’t jinx it! Knock on wood, or he’s gonna think of something! Wood, wood, wood?? AH! It’s all glass and metal here!

“After you, Prefect.” you’d been so distracted that you didn’t notice that Jade and you made it to the lounge doors. He was holding the handle of the exit, motioning for you to enter the bubble forming at the door. 

You made a small sound of surprise, rushing forward to push your body through the bubble. You weren’t quite used to the bubble, so It took a bit of effort, which caused you to fall forward. Jade’s arm wrapped around your waist, catching your fall. A small gasp left your mouth as he pulled you flush against his torso, your cheeks warming. 

Ah, you’re so soft. And clumsy. You need me to care for you, don’t you?

“Careful,” Jade purred into your ear. “I would hate to see you hurt, though I’d be happy to tend to you if that happened.”

You felt your stomach flip and heat settle as Jade’s hand tightened its grip. If it wasn’t for the warm breath tingling your ear and the rumble of Jade’s chest against your back while he spoke, you’d think this was another one of his fantasies. 

I can feel your heart pounding, are you nervous? Do I make you nervous?

Jade leaned farther down, his body nearly covering your own. Ironically, he was nervous himself, if his quick breaths were anything to go by.

You feel so warm against me, I wonder if you’ll feel just as warm when I’m inside…

Oh Sevens, seriously? Now!?

I would make you feel good, give you the most incredible pleasure ever known…

Please, bubble, move faster! Eek! Jade, where are you putting that hand!

Jade’s hand trailed upward, resting just below your chest. 

Ah, is this really real? It is!! I can feel your heart. 

“Just ask, and I’ll serve. I’m sure you could use the help now and then.”

Just say something, please! I want to hear your voice. 

What am I supposed to… god, why am I so flustered?!

Despite your thoughts, you couldn’t find yourself trying to get out of his grasp. Maybe it was due to the nerves, or the way the warmth in your belly almost felt pleasant, but you weren’t sure how to respond to Jade. 

“Uh, n-no that’s fine.” You mumbled, shifting as Jade continued to hold you, though it seemed his hand was loosening. “I’m good…by myself.”

But you’re never by yourself, are you? You have many friends, ready to come at your beck and call. Why won’t you add me to your little roster? 

“If you say so. Just know I’m always ready to be of assistance.” Jade finally let you go as the bubble finally floated up to Octavinelle’s mirror. It pressed against the now glowing mirror, allowing you to push into the flickering glass of the mirror. 

The familiar Hall of Mirrors was comforting, the air filling your lungs as you took a deep breath to  calm your racing heart and nerves. Jade followed, though he stayed close to the Octavinelle entrance. 

“Ah, I should be heading to Heartslabyul before I run late.” You nodded at Jade as you walked away. “Take care of Aspen, I think he’s nervous.” 

You omitted ‘around you’ for Aspen’s sake. 

Oh, that’s sweet. Is that so? How can you tell?

Jade smiled as he walked away, “How kind, I’ll be sure to keep an extra eye on him.”

The teal-haired man gave a small wave as he disappeared into a soft light through the mirror. 

See you soon, my love. 

You briefly watched him leave, before sighing and turning back around. 

Geez, that was intense… I’m surprised a that you didn’t freak out more—

GAH! I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!!!!!!

You brought up a hand to cover the snort leaving your mouth. 

Ah, there it is. Okay, I guess you’re a bit funny sometimes…

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[manysad]

The shirt also isn't her regular shirt, it's still plaid but it's a different plaid and the collar + button up area is sewn differently.

So Reverse Alya is just Alya but with a blue coat over her regular shirt? I know I shouldn’t expect total redesigns but that’s kind of lazy.

No? She also has some lipstick, a different haircut, and a choker.