#me and my basket full of 'weeds' are like

[felassan]

[whillowed]

seeing ur actual for realsies best friend for the first time in 4 years is like coming home wtaf

[cannibaliist]

Pink Matter - Sevika x F!Reader (18+)

One shot | Part 2 soon??

Contains: 18+, sickfic, slight modern!au, smut, explicit content!!, NSFW, mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, established relationship, no use of y/n, nicknames of 'baby girl, sweet girl, etc.' mentioned, dom!sevika, strap ons, oral!s e x reader recieving, rough, vaginal s e x

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: the Sevika brainrot got too much so here we are lol . hope you enjoy !!

cross posted on AO3

title inspired by Pink Matter by Frank Ocean

Sevika likes you even when you're sick. Because there is no other grown woman or man she'd allow to perspire on her sheets and take up all the space on her mattress on an early Saturday morning when she's finally free from work and Silco's nagging. So yeah, she likes you all right. 

You don't usually get sick often, especially with her watching over you to make sure you're warm during Zaun's freezing weather. 

Your sweat-coated skin soaks through the double layer of navy blue sheets on the bed. It turns the blue almost black and Sevika can only think about how her shit – the one pair of sheets she probably owns – is definitely close to fucked up. God, you are so lucky she doesn't want you to die from whatever you contracted after fucking around all night during the misting rain, laughing and dancing high off your mind from the cheap weed Sevika bought off her coworker. That mixed with what the people called “Shimmer Juice”, you were half out of your mind for the night. 

“Baby get the hell inside,” Sevika had told you last night, but all you did was smile at her. That blinding ass smile full of white teeth and crescent shaped eyes that made her heart start thumping a little faster in her chest. Fuck. She really was in love with you. 

So of course, now you were running a fever and swaddled in whatever blankets she could scrounge up around her room. Sevika likes you like this though, fading in and out of consciousness.

Snoring softly and muttering small words while grasping at whatever body part of Sevika you could reach to keep you warm. You get super clingy when you're sick, one of the only times you are completely super sweet and malleable instead of talking back to Sevika like she won't put you in your place the next moment, but your freak ass is into it so she has to calm herself down another way to not give you exactly what you want. Still, she smiles at your petty actions. Helps to know you really want her in every single form.

She decided to run a few errands while your younger form slept, grabbing soup ingredients – Does my love prefer celery or corn? – bottles of water and a thermometer that she's never bothered to keep in her home before. The things my baby makes me do, she thinks as she puts her things into her grocery basket. 

When she gets back and puts the groceries away she expects for her baby to still be sound asleep but instead you seem a bit off. Hair splayed out everywhere with your chest rising and falling heavily. A flush in your cheeks that's still so visible even with the color of your skin, tinted a steady red even in your sleep. 

Sevika wondered if you were having a nightmare, thrashing and moving in your sleep like you do when your dreams get really bad, fighting more than just sickness.

But instead, your whole body is trembling, your hips unconsciously grinding into the sweat-stained sheets. Sevika walks closer, watching you move your body further into the bed, soft little groans escaping your plush lips. She stills as you mutter a soft cry for her. “Sevika…” She holds her breath, slowly approaching the voice. “Sevi, please.”

Sevika smirks to herself, touching a hand to your warmed skin shaking your awake. “Get up, sweet girl.” She had to take your temperature now before giving you any water. You startle with a groan, whining like you always do. Some nonsense about a “-middle of a good dream. ruin everything.”

“Open your mouth for something other than running it baby.” Even though you're slightly annoyed from being woken up from such a nice dream, you do as instructed, mouth wide and hinting for more than just a thermometer. 

Sevika felt a twinge in her pants. Her desire to slide her strap down your awaiting throat was just too tempting. Instead, she cups your jaw, and sticks the thermometer tip under your tongue. You glare and let out a soft whine of disappointment. “Tease,” you mutter. 

Sevika rolls her eyes at the petulant behavior and pulls out the thermometer at the beep. “101.4, Told your crazy ass to sit down last night and now here we are,” she scoffs. “Sit up and drink some water.”

You groan and turn your head away, letting yourself fall back onto the bed. “Don't want to.”

Sevika sighs, sliding her warm fingers over your sweat-soaked hair, small pieces threatening to curl at the nape of your neck. They feel nice as they start to comb at your scalp. “Listen, you've been playing housewife all week, cleaning and cooking all nice for me, let me take care of you now baby girl.” 

You groan again, weak hands gripping the edge of the blanket, trying to pull it off of you. You sigh into the pillow, words all muddied and unclear. “Speak up baby, I'm not straining to hear you.”

You take a deep, labored breath in, and turn her head towards Sevika, cheeks getting all hot. “Said you want to, so take care of me.”

Her eyes narrow at you, “What do you think I'm doing?” 

“No Sevi, I need you to fuck me. Please.” 

Sevika grips your chin, hard, probably could leave a few bruises if she tried hard enough. You twitch under her touch, ultra-sensitive from the fever. “You're outta your mind right now. You need to rest ”

You bring a hand to Sevika’s thigh as she hovers over you, grasping with more strength than you probably needed to have. “I need it, please. I'll be good.”

Just the thought of your body loose and desperate sends a rush straight to the older woman's crotch. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Sevika.” Your voice was exhausted, but eager, wide eyes staring endlessly into her own dark grey ones. 

She watches the quickened rise and fall of your chest as she goes to take off her vest and her pants. Of course she's commando. Of course. The thing you're waiting for is less than 5 steps away, tucked in the nightstand drawer. Sevika is quick to grab the strap-on and fasten it around herself. It's a beautiful deep shade of purple and thick and practically gleaming as she steps closer to you. You scramble out of your sleep shorts and t-shirt to feel her presence even closer.

“Gonna slick me up baby? Get me ready for you?” She asks as she sizes you up. Her eyes are dark, hungry, for you. 

You nod dumbly. So ready to suck her off like you've done times before. 

She drags her metal hand along your lower leg, up your shaking thighs, over your awaiting ass in your underwear, and up to your back. You twitch at the cold of the metal, too much sensation from such a small gesture. Simply Sevika’s touch – gentle strokes across the skin – was overwhelming. 

Sevika gently tugs on your jaw, testing how pliable and easy you promised to be. She was met with no resistance as your mouth opened with ease, “doing so good already baby.” 

Sevika stepped closer, hovering over your face, sliding in her strap until she hit the back of your throat with no resistance. You were too tired for a reflex, too tired to choke. Fuck, she could do anything she wanted to you right now and you wouldn't even flinch. Something dark coiled in Sevika's stomach, if she was a better person she would've ignored your pleas and doped you up with enough medicine to tire you out but she wasn't an entirely good person, and you liked her that way. 

Sevika worked your mouth, it's as if she could feel the warm back of your throat every time she bottomed out. But the small quiver of breath on the straps cockhead was a reminder that you needed to breathe.

Tears welled in your eyes, and Sevika had to fight coming right then and there. She wanted to fill your throat, make you keep her strap warm as you swallowed every last bit of her. The only fight you had was an involuntary gasp for air. Sevika held you there for just a second longer, slowly sliding out of your mouth, warm and wet. As Sevika’s strap head passes your lips, you groan, trying to get Sevika to put herself back where she belongs.

Sevika replaces the emptiness with her fingers, laying them on your tongue instead. “Not now baby girl.”  

Sevika hovers over you, staring at your parted lips, watching your eyes flutter as sweat drips down your brow. She lowered her hips, slowly dragging her strap along your entrance. Sevika’s other hand traveled down to the leaking pussy between your thighs, mouth watering at the wetness. She thumbs your clit slowly as she grasps your ass with her metal hand.

You gasp at the soft friction, pushing your hips up to meet Sevika, breath heavy. “Need you Sevi, please.”

“Keep your hands up. Just like that.” You cross your arms above your head as you ache to touch Sevika back. Your skin is hot and flushed and you feel like you'll explode any second that your girlfriend isn't touching you. 

“Hurry, please.” 

“Patience pretty girl,” Sevika warns. Your whines were cut short by Sevika’s mouth meeting your own. The kiss was rough, more teeth meeting lips and gasps than anything else but it was perfect. Just like her. 

Sevika pulls away and watches her baby's head lift off the pillow to chase her, falling back almost immediately with a huff. You let your hands move from where they lay against the pillow crossed to pull Sevika back down into a kiss. Desperate. 

Pulling away again Sevika pins your wrist to the mattress with a growl. You stare up at her, eyes shining with tears but overfilled with lust and want. Fuck. “You don't listen for shit, girl. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”

Sevika kisses along your jaw and neck, soft nips and bites that you wanted to feel more of. Wanted them to bruise. To show everyone who you belonged to. But all you can do is whine and mumble out whispers instead of words.  

“Use your words, baby.”

You choke on your words. “M-more. Please.”

Sevika leans back down, crashing her lips into yours. “You want more?”

You groan into her mouth. “Please, anything.”

Sevika pulls away, spitting into your mouth, hungry and aching. “Swallow. Want you to remember that taste.” You swallow greedily, heart pumping as Sevika kisses down the soft skin of your stomach, inching closer to your cunt. 

She smirks at the sight, you already so desperate for more, as she runs her fingers up and down your warm entrance. You moan at the sudden intrusion, rocking back onto Sevika’s hand as she slips a finger in, all the way to the knuckle, groaning at the heat and the way you're clenched so tight around her. 

“Another please, Sevika.”

One finger quickly becomes three, and you can't even flinch at the rushed invasion, just blabbering and moaning as Sevika's thick fingers slam into your pussy. Your hips rock against Sevika’s hand as you can do nothing but wordlessly whimper and beg for something.

Sevika hits that special spot in quick little pumps, bringing your muted cries to loud gasps. 

“Almost there, baby.” Sevika tells you, her ability to hold herself back from jumping your bones entirely is slowly starting to crumble. 

When she deems you prepped enough, she takes her fingers away and slides them into her mouth making you moan. She licks her fingers like it's nectar as she sucks them into her mouth. 

Finally, Sevika settles between your trembling thighs, the color a hue she's always loved from all the time you spent tanning in the sun with no worries in the world.

A gentle groan passes by your lips as Sevika sucks a mark into the flesh of your legs, nipping along the skin turning it into a pinkish red that will soon blossom into a deep purple. She grazes her teeth along your inner thigh, biting down hard. She trails her fingers up the backs of both your legs, settling on your ass and grabbing at the soft flesh, sending a shiver up your spine. 

You mewled, begging. “Need you please.” You could feel Sevika smile into the mark she made on your thigh, turned on beyond relief at your begging. “Just a little longer baby.”

Giving you a pat on the head, she lowers her awaiting mouth to your weeping cunt, though you're already close even from her thick fingers inside of you. You moaned at the contact, gripping the sheets as Sevika licks you up clean. You resist the overwhelming urge to clutch at her hair as she works you out, but you promised not to move your hands. You'd listen this once, just for her. 

She works her tongue over your swelling clit, swirling her tongue, and moving back down. She ate you like a pro, taking you deeper in her mouth, breathing in the smell of her girl and the tickle of your hairs along her face. Whether you had a bush or shaved for some occasions, she was very appreciative of the effort, regardless of how you presented yourself to her. 

She fucks you with her tongue and only adds in a single finger. Pistoning faster as she works at your clit. It's all too much too soon and she pulls off to lick you up again, fingers still angled over your sweet spot, when she hears a loud cry. You've already cum. Making the sheets stain a darker shade of navy blue. 

“W-what the fuck?” You say more to yourself than anyone else. The fever makes you even more sensitive, even the littlest bit of stimulation making you come, it's insanely embarrassing to your already dwindling ego. 

“Think you can do one more?” the older woman chuckles. You just shake your head nervously, tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “No more.”  

Sevika's eyes harden, grasping your hips and digging her nails in. The clutch of her metal fingers into the flesh of your hip leaves you reeling – knowing it's gonna bruise later. “If I tell you one more, then it's gonna be one more.” 

He slicks up her glistening strap with whatever lube she had on her dresser already half empty, and positions her above you. She lines herself up, pushing slow yet unyielding into you. You can't help but scream as Sevika pulls out and slams her strap into you, purposely missing your sweet spot just to make you beg for it. 

You try and bite your arm to quiet your whimpers, it was embarrassing wanting her so bad, wanting her dick, her strap, inside you so bad. Sevika reaches up, grabbing your face until they drift to your throat. “You can be loud, baby, let me hear you.”

She fucks you slow and deep, wanting to savor every second you're so pliant underneath her. Your mind is quieted by the fever, now, basically delirious. She uses just enough pressure against your throat to let you breathe, already labored and erratic.

It feels like your whole body is on fire. Only filled with thoughts of Sevika Sevika Sevika. Those words chant themselves over and over in your mind like a mantra. 

Sevika places your legs over her shoulders and enters again with no hesitation, fucking into you even faster. “Touch yourself sweet girl. Wanna see you cum again.”

You whimper. “Sevika, I don’t think-”

Sevika puts a finger over your mouth. “You don't get to tell me no princess, you wanted this, remember?” It was mocking, less a question and more a statement. Of course you remember, it's burned into the back of your mind. 

Your weak hand reaches for your clit to give it at least a little bit of stimulation. But there's no strength left in your body to bring yourself to come again, your grip was nothing more than a soft coaxing. Tears fill your eyes from frustration, from pleasure, a sharp mixture of both. 

With a laugh, Sevika slaps your pathetic hand away and brings her hand to your clit herself. Sevika continues to stroke you, angling her hips to hit even deeper into your tight pussy. It's all too much and all you can do is sob. 

Sevika moves her vacant metal hand from your hip to your throat, choking you properly now. Sevika’s pace quickens, folding you in half with your thighs against her sticky chest, thrusting as deep into you as she could. Your eyes began to roll, chest heaving from a sob but no words can escape her lips. 

“Please don't stop, please.”

You barely have time to process what’s happening before Sevika folds you in half again. You love the way the older woman makes you feel when she's caged over you. You're not overly short or tall, but you still feel so small in comparison to Sevika’s more broad-shouldered frame. You feel your body shake as Sevika sheathes herself back inside fully with one single thrust. You barely manage to take it, body tightening around her cock reflexively. It's basically an extension of her at this point. 

She lets her hand slither from around your neck to your boobs, fondling them as she fucks you harder. You scramble against the sheets with sweaty hands and weak fingers, trying to get away from the pistoning dick tearing you apart. Sevika is so big inside of you, he can hardly feel anything else. 

She kisses you and it feels like heaven all over again. 

Feels like you're drowning in pure bliss. She keeps fucking you through it, making you cum over and over again, watching as your body writhes in agony and overstimulation. It almost hurts, so fucking much, but it feels so so good. You love that Sevika isn’t afraid to handle you roughly – isn't afraid to slam her hips forward like she wants to destroy your guts with each thrust – but she isn't afraid to truly make love to you either, all nice and slow. Here, your mind finally has the ability to finally shut off and you can submit yourself fully to the older woman.

When Sevika finally comes it's like you can practically feel the strap swell inside of you. 

Sevika pulls out with a groan, as if it really is her own cock and not a toy. Something about it has your stomach swirling into knots again. 

She licks her lips. “Not done with you yet baby.” 

Sevika grabs you by your waist and flips you over, shoving your face deep into the mattress. 

“Fit around this cock so well baby girl. Bet you're wishing it was real huh?”

You can barely process Sevika’s words, only letting out a jumbled, “only yours Sevi” before your mind is clouded by a thick sheen of tears, sweat, and cum. You can't count how many times you come before you pass out from the fever and from working your body so hard. 

————

When you come to, the first thing you feel is emptiness. The emptiness of your cunt and the bed as Sevika is nowhere to be seen. It triggers something in your chest and he can't help the sob that gets stuck in her throat. You want to call out for her, cry, something, but your throat is wrecked and raw. 

“Sevika?” you push out, voice weak from exertion. 

After a few moments of silence, you hear the floorboards creak near the bedroom door. It's Sevika with a bowl of something in her hand and a bottle of water. She smiles at you, her lopsided smile glistening against the window light and it's all too domestic. 

“You aight Bambi?” The special nickname makes you want to jump her bones all over again. Her voice is soft as if speaking any louder would frighten you. But you're strong, already feeling better from your nap. You just nod, reaching an arm out towards Sevika's approaching figure to motion her to the space on the bed next to you. 

There’s different sheets this time, a creamy grey color and you wonder how long you were out cold so that she was able to replace sheets right under you.  

“I'm right here baby hold on.” He grabs the thermometer from the nightstand, motioning for you to open your mouth again. 

“98.9” she says after the beep. She cracks a wide smile, “fucking miracle my strap is huh?” You can only roll your eyes, “don't get too cocky, Sevi. I was right after all.” 

Sevika wraps you in a hug, breathing in the faint smell of sex, and the smell of your shampoo. “Eat your soup and if you're good I'll let you sleep with it in.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, grinning larger than life. The little gap between her teeth has your heart melting as you kiss her softly. 

“I love you so much Sevika.” She presses your foreheads together and holds the sides of your face with her hands.

One kiss to your left eyelid, one kiss to your right lid, another to the tip of your nose, and finally another one your lips as she clutches you tighter. “I love you too baby.”

You eat your soup with a hunger you've never had before in your life. You go to sleep very happy that night, stomach full and pussy full as she spoons you as you both fall asleep. 

~~~~

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Tasty Confessions 🥮

You've ordered: a vanilla gingerbread tart! enjoy!

"This is falling, falling in love"

Leona Kingscholar x reader | word count: 1,418 words

Summary: holiday confession gone wrong...and right? 🥮

Warnings: none!

Note: i don't celebrate christmas, so in the fic, i didn't specify the holiday (used "holiday season" instead)

"Trey, a little help here?" you yelled, attempting to carry two trays of tart shells out of the oven.

"Ah, coming! You've gotta be careful, Y/n." the green haired boy reminded you, rushing over and taking one of the trays.

The cozy holiday season had settled upon Night Raven College rather nicely. Decorations were put up and plans for celebration were in full swing. And you intended to make this one extra special.

You'd decided to bake tarts for your friends in the various dorms and even a few for the NRC staff. As you filled the shells with various creams and custards, Trey helped you out, offering up his baking expertise when you were caught in the weeds about how to do this.

As you now cut up various fruits and other sweets for decoration, the door to the kitchen opened and in walked Cater, holding Grim in his arms.

"I couldn't get him to stop. He somehow smelled your tarts from down the hall." Cater said, seeming like he'd put in a lot of effort in trying to stop the cat-like creature.

"Hey, you better save some for me, henchman!" Grim exclaimed, hopping out of Cater's arms and onto the counter.

"Don't worry Grim. After i'm done, I'll make you all the tuna tarts you want." you smiled, scratching under his chin.

"Hey Y/n, why are these tarts different than all the others?" Cater questioned, pointing to a small batch of tarts that were obviously different from the others.

Your cheeks colored a bit upon being questioned, your hand almost dropping the spoon you held.

"Those are...for Leona." you admitted, cater letting out an excited "Ooh!"

It was no secret that you had a crush on Leona. The lion beastman had caught your attention the first day you'd arrived. You used to think he was lazy and rude, but after being around him for a while, your outlook changed. And so did your feelings.

"I plan on writing a note to him in which i confess my feelings and...putting it in his tart bag..." you murmured, your cheeks warming up in embarrassment.

"Confessing to him with tarts? how cute." Trey quipped, placing a tray of finished tarts into the fridge to chill.

"Yeah, I just hope it goes well..."

"Oh trust me, I'm sure he likes you too. Leona isn't keen on putting up with people just like that." Cater said, swiping a bit of cream onto his finger and tasting it.

"Cater!" you scolded, rushing to grab grim before he dunked his whole head in the bowl.

"Alright, alright! enough fun. I've gotta get back to baking." you playfully grumbled, shooing them out.

A day had passed since you cooked up your delicious sweet treats. Each person had 5 tarts, all in a clear bag with a colored ribbon on top. You went around to each dorm handing out the tasty tarts and to your surprise, everyone loved them!

You finally stopped in front of your final destination: the Savanaclaw dorms. You clutched the basket in your hands, glancing down at it to do one last check. One for Ruggie, one for Jack, and obviously one for....?! You then realized you were short one bag...and it was the most important bag of all. Just where was Leona's bag??

In haste, you quickly scrambled back over to Heartslabyul, ignoring a nagging Riddle as you barged into the kitchen. You looked everywhere, every nook and cranny. Absolutely nothing.

You grabbed your phone, calling trey.

"Hey Trey. Have you seen the tarts I made for...you know who?" you asked, praying that he knew something.

"No, sorry Y/n. the last I saw of them was when I left last night, and they were still in your basket. did something happen?" he asked, seeming concerned.

"Uh, you know what? Don't worry about it. Thanks Trey." you said before hanging up.

It wasn't like the tarts had grown legs and ran away! You didn't have time for this. And you definitely didn't have the time to make new tarts. You asked across the dorms (except Savanaclaw) if they'd seen the tarts, to which everyone responded no. What were you going to do?

As you paced around the hallway, someone called out your name. Turning, you were met by Ruggie, a member of Savanaclaw. Upon seeing your panic, Ruggie made his way over to you, tail flicking.

"Y/n, what's wrong? You look more stressed than Leona when he can't get his favorite sandwich." he asked.

You let out a sigh of defeat, leaning against the wall. "I made tarts for everyone to celebrate the holidays. I also made...special tarts for Leona. I was going to tell him how I feel today, but...I can't find his damn tarts!" you groaned.

"Well, what did they look like?" Ruggie asked.

"They were in a clear bag like everyone else's. But his had a yellow and black ribbon on it, whereas the ones for you and jack were just yellow." you could already see the guilt on Ruggie's face.

"Spit it out."

"I may or may not have found said package of tarts...and given them to Leona-" Ruggie mumbled, visibly sweat-dropping.

Your mouth fell open in horror as you realized the situation you were in. Leona...had already gotten your tarts!

"Ruggie, where is Leona right now?" you asked urgently, shoving the basket into his arms.

"Oof! Uhhh...I think he's in the botanical garden. that's where I gave them to him."

You made a mad dash down the hall, bursting into the garden. Your eyes frantically looked around, spotting a tail in the corner of your eye.

When you got closer, your stomach dropped as you saw Leona, already breaking into the sweet treats.

"Need something, herbivore?" the beastman asked, his tail flicking.

You swallowed, taking a breath before walking over and snatching up the note.

"You didn't read this, right?" you asked, Leona smirking as he licked cream off of the corner of his lips.

"And what if i did?" he challenged, your heart dropping.

"H-how much did you-?" "All of it."

The note fell from your hands, your heart aching as you looked Leona in the eyes. Damn...this was embarrassing.

As you tried to keep yourself from panicking, you stepped closer to him, kneeling down to his level. "So...how do you feel about what you read?"

Leona let out a soft "Hm", as if he were thinking of the perfect response. "Come a little closer." he said.

You shuffled a bit closer to him, mumbling a soft "Yeah?" as you did. The lion man just smirked, beckoning you closer.

"Come on herbivore, get closer. Just a little. And close your eyes."

You moved closer till you were practically touching noses with Leona, your eyes fluttering shut. You felt like your heart would leap out of your chest at any given moment.

thwack! You pulled back, your eyes opening in surprise. Leona had just flicked you in the forehead!

"What the hell, leona?" you exclaimed, your hand flying up to caress the spot he'd flicked.

"You really are dense." "What-"

Leona leaned in a bit closer this time, his breath tickling your cheek. "You think I ate your tarts out of pity? If I didn't want 'em, I could've easily given 'em away. Seems I've taken...a liking to you, herbivore."

You froze right there, on the spot. you couldn't believe what you were hearing. THE Leona Kingscholar just confessed to YOU. You didn't have time to think before leona captured your chin between his thumb and index finger, his emerald green eyes locking with yours.

"Hm, you still don't seem very convinced." Before you could even think...Leona's lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft and warm and made you feel all fuzzy inside. You slowly eased into it, your hands coming up to cup his face as a warmth flowed through your body.

When it was over, you nodded your head, a slight flush on your cheeks. "Yeah...I get it now..."

Leona let out an amused chuckle, pulling you down to lay with him, a soft yelp leaving you.

"Don't you usually sleep alone?" you mumbled, your face warming up.

"You owe me. All your tarts made me sleepy. Your punishment is to lay with me and not move a muscle."

You laughed a little, reaching up to tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. "Should be easy enough."

And just like that, your holiday was one to remember.🥮

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[https-florals]

daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.

summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness

author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)

JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.

“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.

John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.” 

JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.

“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. 

John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside. 

“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.

You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!” 

A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three). 

“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it. 

HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.

You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing. 

It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.

You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.

You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.

“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”

You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that. 

After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.

“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”

He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”

You sigh. “ ‘Kay,” 

He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water. 

“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line. 

You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”

“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.

You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”

JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”

He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”

You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.

daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…

One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.

No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.

He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”

The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”

He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp. 

“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”

He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”

You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.

“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support. 

The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”

He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.

Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds. 

“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.

“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.

“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.  

“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it. 

You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”

“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”

Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.

He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands. 

“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.

You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger. 

It’s probably his favorite possession. 

He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.

“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand. 

“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.

“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.

The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue. 

You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his. 

“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.

“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash. 

“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.

“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand. 

“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine. 

He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”

There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.

JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head. 

He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[literary-motif]

Hiiii!~ :DD I just can't believe no one has asked for this yet, but ISAAC AND PICKLE GARDENING TOGETHER!! <333 I think they would be just ADORABLE!! Maybe both of them will have a little picnic together near the lake... (I think Saku mentioned that he owned one...) Pickle making a flower crown for Isaac :33 And Isaac reminiscing about his mother!

Enjoy The Silence

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Warnings: grief

Isaac was a little nervous. He was very nervous, actually. 

There was a strikingly clear reason why he always hired a gardener. There were two reasons, buried in the ground under the little blue flowers that grew by the headstones. 

Why he had agreed to this, he did not know. The thought of having you in the garden — the garden, the one where he had lost half his heart and the majority of his years alive — made his stomach clench in painful knots. It made him anxious, threatening to pull him into the very depths of a panic attack because only the possibility of losing you to a shot fired from the trees beyond made his eyes tear up as a painful lump formed in his throat.

You had asked him for it, though. You had suggested tending to the delicate blue flowers together — with your eyes glinting in compassion, begging him to allow you this grand gesture of affection that would ease his pain like the first time you had visited their graves together. 

His blood had frozen. The firm, absolute, and forever unchanging ‘no’ stuck on his tongue as he took in your expression of gentle hope. 

I can’t live my life trapped in this house, Isaac. I can’t, no matter how much I love you. 

He swallowed thickly and conceded. 

You had been so happy, turning the whole day into a little event to ease his mind from the heaviness of tending to the flowers growing on his family’s graves. There was a picnic basket, complete with a blanket, standing by in the kitchen for when you were done. The very idea of sitting outside — waiting like sitting ducks to be shot — made him shudder. 

He dreaded this day. He hated that he did. 

“Ready?” you asked, smiling brightly at him as you pulled on gloves for gardening. You had had many occasions to demonstrate your varying skill with plants, although you supposed ridding the flowers of weeds and trimming the bush a little was different from tending to houseplants. 

He stood staring at the front door, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. 

“Isaac?”

“Do we have to?” he whispered, the vulnerability seeping into his tone wiping the smile from your face. He sounded close to tears. “Do we have to? I— I’m so scared something might— might—”

You pulled off the gloves, letting them fall to the ground. “Hey, look at me,” you said, resting a hand on his cheek. Isaac turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears of fear and, you supposed knowing him, shame as well. “We don’t have to do anything if it hurts you this much, sweetheart.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch. “What if I can’t?” he croaked, tears escaping his eyes. “What if I’m never ready? What if this always happens? What if I can’t keep it together at the thought of us going outside? I— I don’t want to lose you. I can’t—”

“Isaac, look at me,” you requested, raising your other hand to his cheek as well. Your fingers played with the strands of hair at his temples, thumbs wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks. When he slowly opened his eyes, searching your gaze with eyes full of sorrow, you continued, “It’s alright if you’re not ready. It’s okay. Overcoming trauma is hard, I get that — I know that. Healing takes a lot of time, love. The important thing is that you try, and I know you do. You’re so brave every day for me, love, and I will never leave you because of this. Alright? Never, Isaac. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, I know you are doing your best.”

“My best is not enough sometimes,” he admitted quietly, the words tasting like defeat. 

“Don’t even think that!”

“But it’s true! Look at me,” he cried, stepping away from your soft touch to bury his face in his hands. “I can’t even keep my word because I’m so scared. I— the fear feels like it’s eating me up, gnawing away and keeping me paralyzed. I’m forever stuck in this— this house because they are outside and I can’t— I can’t tear myself away and nowhere else is safe.”

Your heart shattered. “Come here,” you said, keeping your voice airily light. It cut through the spiral of his thoughts like a knife, and he crashed into your open arms as if they were his lifeline. You held onto him tightly, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture you knew helped him calm down. “Small steps, Isaac. Yeah?”

“Steps?” he asked incredulously, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “I’ve been immobile for years!”

“That’s not true, love. These things take time,” you said, listening to his breathing slowly even out. The tears stopped, although the patch of wetness on your shoulder would remain a moment longer. 

Isaac slowly raised his head, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, his voice strained. He hesitated before retrieving his phone and checking the CCTV. “Just give me a moment, yeah?”

You blinked in surprise. “A moment for what?” you asked, already knowing the answer. 

“A moment to make sure nobody is there to— to hurt us. I checked already, but I want to make sure again before we go out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Pickle.”

“I don’t want to push you, Isaac. Maybe it’s best if we put this off—”

“No! I need to do this,” he said, his tone firm despite the tremor in his voice. “I need to! I can’t stand this anymore. I need to face this. I— I don’t feel ready, but— but I want to.” His eyes roamed over the footage, analyzing every rustling of leaves, checking for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. Isaac swallowed, closing his eyes to compose himself before plunging into his deepest fear. “You’ll stay by my side, yes?” 

Your gaze softened. “Of course,” you said, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “I promise.”

He bent down, picking up your gloves. “Alright,” he breathed, waiting for you to reappear at his side with the picnic basket and gardening tools in hand. “Alright, alright.” His hand hovered above the doorknob.

I want you to know your parents would have been proud of the man you have become, little one.

There was no big event. There was no gunshot — thank god. There was no sound out of the ordinary.

The birds continued chirping. The sun, although occasionally hidden behind a cloud, did not change color. Nothing changed at all as you both stepped outside. Isaac was weary, his eyes darting across the garden in search of something. He barely realized that he was outside at all, that he did it, with your hand tightly clasped in his while his other rested on the gun he couldn’t feel safe without.

“They don’t look so bad. I think a little trimming on the sides is all they need. Look, there are barely any weeds.”

Isaac looked down. After all these years, reading the names on the headstones still knocked the breath out of him. It was also the instance in which he realized — fully and without argument — that he was outside with the love of his life. The realization made him squeeze your hand harder, the feeling of having something incredibly valuable in a place where they were not safe was nearly enough to plunge him into a panic again. 

But he had also faced his fear. He had kept his word, well, half of it. The first step was done, now he only needed to follow the path. 

“You alright?”

He thought for a moment. “Yes,” he replied, surprised that he meant it despite his heart racing. “Do you want to trim or free them from the weeds?”

Gardening was surprisingly relaxing. You were carefully ridding the beautiful bush of flowers from its outreaching branches while Isaac plucked at the weeds growing beneath it on his knees. The conversation turned light, and for the first time in a decade, he forgot the overwhelming fear that came with being beneath a clear sky and allowed himself to chuckle fondly at something you said. 

He paused, practically feeling the flower petals glow with happiness. 

Yes, mom. I miss you too. It hurts every day that you’re not here — I miss you so much it burns a hole in my chest when I breathe. It has gotten easier with them. I love them, and I wish more than anything that you could have met the person who fills the void in my chest with love. I miss you every day. Tell Dad I miss him too and give Grandpa a big hug. I think I missed my chance when he was still here. I love you, take care.

“Isaac?”

He had not even realized that he was crying. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks in rivers that felt like they would never end. His hands were balled into fists, clutching at the earth beneath the flower bush, reminiscent of the time you had prompted him to talk to them for the first time. 

God, it still hurt so much. Why did it still hurt so much?

“I’m fine,” he said, wiping at his eyes. It was useless, the tears would not stop falling. “I— I haven’t— the flowers and— I miss them. I miss them so much.”

You knelt beside him, gathering him into your arms again. Isaac slumped against your side, his blurry vision rising towards the headstones with the names of his family. The sight made his lower lip wobble, the feeling of drowning in his grief and sorrow overwhelming. He thought he would have if you had not been there to hold him together. 

There was a reason he had never allowed himself to feel the extent of his pain when he was alone. He could not have born it. The misery and grief of his life would have crushed him, leaving him untethered in an unforgiving world with people who relied on him, expecting him to carry on his grandfather’s legacy like he had promised he would. 

He had never allowed himself to feel the extent of his loss, and now that he knew he could — no need to hide from it behind whiskey glasses and ceiling-high towers of paper — it devoured him whole. He let it because he knew you were there to anchor him.

The flowers were done, and once the sun had begun its descent and noon turned into late evening, you found yourself spread out on the picnic blanket by the lake, plucking the daisies with the longest stems as Isaac’s head rested on your thigh. 

He was eating one of the chocolate muffins you had baked, his tears long since dried. There was a slight downturn to his lips, betraying his somber thoughts despite the peaceful scenery around you. 

“She hated baking,” he admitted quietly. 

You halted your weaving, glancing at him. Instead of the bleak, sorrowful expression you had been expecting, there was a fond smile on his face. 

“I used to make cookies with my father. We would— we would spend hours decorating them with icing and putting little designs on them. My mother liked cooking. She— she tried teaching me, but I wasn’t very interested. I mean, I was a kid. I preferred baking, but— You know, I wish I would have listened to her more. I wish I— I had appreciated them all more and now—” he broke off with a sigh, the fond memory charing at the edges as he was reminded of the harsh reality that they were gone. He would never again roll out dough with his father, or listen to his mother’s gentle instructions on how to make the perfect Goya.

You finished the flower crown, turning it around in your hands before placing it on Isaac’s head gently. He looked up at you, the expression of melancholy fading as he gave you a sweet smile. 

“We’ll make the most of our time as well, love.”

[munsonsduchess]

Monster Smash

summary: you meet eddie at a house party and the night takes an unexpected turn warnings: underage drinking, recreational drug use (weed), face sitting, oral (f receiving), semi public sex (eddie and the reader are in a room at a frat house during a party) w/c: 977 a/n: surprise bitch! another halloween fic! honestly with the amount of ghostface content on tiktok these days it was kind of inevitable we'd end up here, i was originally just going to post the other halloween fic but this one wouldn't leave me alone

It was Halloween and you were having the worst time. You didn’t know anyone at this party your roommate had dragged you to, citing that you needed to get out more, the drinks were shit, the music was shit, honestly you were tempted to just sneak out the back door of this frat house and claim you’d met somebody if your roommate asked the next day. 

You sighed and took another drink from your lukewarm beer and pulled at the hem of the black dress you were wearing. Usually you didn’t feel self conscious in the things you picked for yourself but being, less petite, than some of your peers and wearing something your roommate had picked out so you could both wear matching costumes (you got to be the bad witch) in a room full of obnoxious frat bros made you feel slightly … less confident than normal. 

You were about to cut and run when a guy appeared in front of you wearing a Ghostface Costume,

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“The Exorcist, 1973. A masterpiece in horror cinema” you responded without thinking. You hadn’t actually expected anyone to talk to you, after being basically ignored all night

“That’s, yeah that’s a really good pick” the guy pulled his mask off and you found yourself looking into the face of the local weed guy, Eddie Munson. 

Everyone you knew, yourself included, bought their weed from Eddie. His stuff was guaranteed to be the best and not laced with anything it shouldn’t be,

“It’s the line from the homeless guy in the subway ‘can you help an old altar boy father’ and then later on when they’re in Regan’s bedroom and she says the same thing in the same voice. Chills. Literal chills” 

“Such a good movie. They don’t make movies like that anymore, y’know? Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Rosemary’s Baby” 

“Have you seen X? Or Pearl? They have the same kinda vibes but are totally modern movies” 

“I’ve seen X. Massive Texas Chainsaw vibes” 

“Right!” 

You ended up finding a quiet corner with Eddie where the two of you could talk about horror movies for the rest of the evening. You’d honestly never really found anyone who loved horror the way you did so it was amazing to be able to vibe with someone like this. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The party raged on into the wee hours and by now both you and Eddie were feeling the effects of the beer and few joints you’d shared. You were feeling pleasantly buzzed and enjoying the attention of an attractive man, even if it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

“It’s so cool that you’re into horror, most people get freaked out or maybe enjoy those like conjuring movies”

“Ugh. The Warrens are the absolute worst, by all accounts they just scam people and then use their stories to write books and make more money” you gestured widely around the room, “how fucked is that?”

“Totally fucked” Eddie agreed 

“You know I almost didn’t come tonight but my roommate kinda forced me to” 

“Remind me to send your roommate a fruit basket or something as thanks then” Eddie said, “cause this is definitely a way better night than I thought it was gonna be”

“It’s so cool to meet a friend tonight” you agreed, “but aren’t you like ‘working’ the party?” 

Eddie laughed and you had to admit you loved the sound. You wondered if he would want to still be friends after the party was over,

“You’re cute. I mean sure it’s great talking like this but honestly, I saw you standing on your own and seriously couldn’t understand why cause just the sight of you in that dress had all the blood in my body run south. I mean, the fact that you’re awesome on top of being drop dead hot is a bonus”

Your brain short circuited for a moment and you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing,

“So, you wanna get a room?” 

“Absolutely I do”

Eddie smirked wickedly at you before helping you off the couch and pulling you behind him to the main staircase and along a corridor to an empty room. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“Sit on my face, come on” Eddie grinned at you, taking one of your hands and pulling you towards the bed. 

You followed the tug and threw one leg over the bed and balanced on your knees. Before you could even try to think about how much weight to bear down you felt Eddie grab your hips and pull you down onto his face forcefully. 

There was no way you could focus on anything but the way Eddie licked into you hungrily. His hands on your hips dug into the flesh there and you threw your head back with the intense feelings, moaning loudly. 

“Oh my god Eddie”

Beneath you Eddie made a muffled noise which you assumed was positive since he didn’t stop what he was doing for even a moment. 

You wondered briefly how he could breathe but the thought left your mind as quickly as it had arrived when Eddie’s nose brushed against your clit and you saw stars. 

Eddie continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm and the aftershocks, the oversensitivity made you want to pull away but Eddie held you firm coaxing yet another orgasm from you until your legs began to shake. Only then did he allow you to pull away and catch your breath,

“Holy shit” you panted, trying to regain some of your self control,

“That’s only the warm up act baby. It’s just you and me and no one is gonna hear you when you scream my name as loud as you want to” 

This was definitely a way better night than you’d thought it would be when your roommate forced you out tonight. 

After all what was Halloween without a few screams?

[xbunnybunz]

therefore i; therefore i, therefore i- (4/10) [AM X Reader]

Summary: in which: AM becomes your lover in an increasingly skewed blur of reality, nightmares, and dreamscapes.

you know. for halloween.

Genre: Psychological Horror, Thriller, Romance

dream journal # 18

I dreamt I was between the land and the sea.

The tides on the beach had pulled weakly at my ankles. It sputtered and coughed, ill, regurgitating pieces of itself at my feet. Coral, weeds, foam, pieces of glass, and brittle shells.

I brought myself down onto my knees, drenched in the filth of the sea. It was no filthier than I, who had come to cleanse myself.

Taking two hands, I scooped up the brine, grey and green and full of particulates in the shimmering starry sky, and brought it to my lips.

Upon drinking, my body seized violently and rejected the fluid. My stomach expelled its dark inky contents in a great heave. In the shimmer of the water, the murk was clear. It swirled and pooled like black iridescent oil, forming first a hand, then an arm, a torso, legs and a head. It reached out to me.

Snatched my neck suddenly, and pulled me under.

As I sunk, it embraced me, warm compared to the bitter bite of the cold sea. I realized with candor, as I watched the rippling surface drift from me, that the dark sky was hollow. Somehow, I always knew I would disappear on a moonless night.

---

You awoke before what you thought was the pond.

You had shocked yourself awake with the feeling of cold water rushing past your palms. Though you were relieved to find you were not sitting in the pond, less fortunately, you had discovered there was water pooling from somewhere, wetting your toes and seeping dark into the grout of your bathroom.

You scramble from the water like a cat, breathing growing heavier. You shake your hands free of the cold. Were you still dreaming?

A blue tinge catches your eye and you wrench yourself around. 

Throw a glance out the door, towards the alcove. Nothing. 

Recall yesterday, when you had dreamt you were awake but weren’t. You reach two fingers up to your leg and pinch harshly. You wince at the pain but do not awaken.

And where was this water coming from, then? And why?

You stumble over to the lights. When it flickers to life overhead, you cuss and immediately fumble for a towel to drop on the floor.

Birds sing, or a computer hums to life in the other room, the sound either way like laughter carrying long into the rest of your hollow home. You ignore it. 

In your sleep, you had turned the faucets on both the sink and the tub. The water had overfilled both in time and now pooled onto the floor, undoubtedly seeping into the cracks and dripping to the apartment below as well.

You clumsily slosh through the water and fumble the knobs closed, dully noting with relief that, at the very least, it hadn’t been hot water you were wasting.

When the water stops running, you also stop hearing the sound of the computer whirring in your ears. You sink into the space between the laundry basket and the tub. The water on the floor latches heavily onto your clothes but you can barely care. 

Watching things drain was always haunting. A black blind stomach opening, sucking in all indiscriminately, regardless of how putrid, gurgling with hunger. The water was clear today, but the final spittles of water bubbling down made you ill regardless.

The towel you had thrown desperately on the floor only sat limp and soggy now, an inch below the surface of the water.

You think of adding a lock to the bathroom. You think maybe a lock on the sink and tub handles would work better. Or maybe, just maybe, you think maybe you needed help. More help. 

Then you laugh and pick up the towel. It’s heavy in your hands. You fling it into the tub and curl up, bury your heads in your arms for a while. 

The rest of the morning is composed of wringing out a series of heavy towels free of water over the tub. When you’re finished, you’re soaked from head to toe in water and sweat. You strip off your clothes and let your shirt and pants fall onto the floor. Peel off your underwear and kick it into a corner. 

You stand and watch yourself dry in the mirror, the sweat clinging to your hair and sticking strands to your face, the gleam of a sheer wetness on your skin, the shine moving down your pubic bone. A red light blinks from the hallway from the fire alarm and it reminds you of a camcorder, like the little blinking red light next to an active webcam. When you pass the window on your way to your room, you spot the outline of the pond from where you stand and you want to swim. So you do. 

---

The beach is warmer than you thought it’d be, sand warmed from the morning sun. You flex your toes in the grain and sink half an inch deeper into the ground. Your sneakers swing by their laces in your left hand.

There are one or two dogs running up and down the shoreline, splashing water on teens wading nearby, probably cutting school, and they yelp and laugh. Even on the shore, your breath was coming out in mist, you were sure the water was freezing.

Still, it didn’t stop a group of people five or six people from congealing on the beach like a tumor, all wearing latex swimsuits and goggles. You watch them from afar, taking in the way they shook out their limbs as if they were about to do something olympian.

–Hey!

One of them waved at you.

You’re unsure of what to do, but you wave back anyway. 

–Hi.

They beckon you over.

The one who speaks to you first is a woman with brunette hair peeking out from under her swimcap. Her eyes are obscured by the goggles she has suctioned onto them.

– Are you here for the cold water swimming?

You think for a moment. Well, it wasn’t like there was cold water here. So you guessed so. You tell her that and she and the others laugh. One of them claps your shoulder and welcomes you, asks if you need to borrow a swimsuit.

–It’s warmer that way, you know, where it’s important.

–Josh, that’s like, so gross of you to say! 

–My bad, just being honest to the newbie.

–You’re a newbie?

–Can’t you tell from the outfit?

They all stop to watch you now, and you fiddle uncomfortably with the hem of your tee under their sudden scrutiny. 

–I usually wear things like this when I’m in the water, you offer. 

And you think about the times you’ve ended up in the pond in a tee shirt and flannel, or shorts and a tank top. It never mattered what you wore. You always awoke half-frozen regardless.

The swimmers, hands on their hips, look at each other and shrug.

–Sounds like you know what you’re doing.

And that’s how you join this group into the dark and untemperate water, splashing past the dogs and the teens and the elderly couples walking by the licking tide.

The water cuts into your system the moment the cold makes contact and it’s all a relief to you: the heaviness of your limbs, the loft of your clothes, and the fog in your mind icing over to slow your thinking.

You’re about chest-deep in the salty ice water before you kick off and dive deeper, towards the horizon. Your body feels weightless, like it is no longer your responsibility. You close your eyes and breathe deep before diving once again.

The pond in the community square is about the same temperature, only a smidge cooler. You thought it may be a filtration system to discourage bacterial growth, but you never dove deep enough to find out whether the filter actually existed. 

You emerge again for air and turn over on your back, allowing the water to hold you up passively. You wished the world worked like this always. You were always so tired, so incapable of working up the strength to struggle against the tide. 

You close your eyes as you drift. The water stays moving, stays cold and sharp on your senses as a blade. But you learn to accept it. The blade dulls and so do your senses. 

Your phone rings. You startle and break formation, sinking a little, realizing only now how the conversation with the other swimmers had distracted you from removing it from your pocket.

Your phone was waterproof despite there being warnings against complete submersion. You drop below the water a little as you fumble your phone out of your pocket, careful not to drop it, then swipe at the answer call button. 

The voice on the other end doesn’t speak, or at least not audibly. All that comes out is a fizzle of static. 

— Hello? You ask. Hello?

—Hello, the voice is chopped with interference and spurts of crackling. Hello. 

—Who is this? You ask. Your voice carries far into the open water. It’s strange how the ocean never echoes back at you. 

—A—EEE—. static breaks into their voice again, splitting into fragmented frequencies. 

You pull your phone away from your face and look at the caller ID. The screen won’t turn on. 

—Wake— SSSSSSsss—Wake—

—Who is this?

—Do not– CHHH– Drown— Sssssssssssss—CHHHHH— drown—

You sink over and over again while holding the phone up to your ear. A slosh of cold saltwater pours into your mouth as you turn upright and begin to kick languidly, the cold turning your extremities leaden. 

—Drown—SSSSS. Drown— My darling–

—AM?

A series of clicks answers you and then it dies immediately. A dial tone shorting and clipping in odd places takes over. 

Unnerved, you blindly press at where the end call button would be just in case and spit out another mouthful of water. When you start to paddle back to shore, you feel dread open a hollowness in your gut. You are much, much further out than you anticipated on being. 

The ocean laid wide and blue before you, waves catching the rays of light.

The dogs and the elderly were barely in sight. You weren’t even sure if the teenagers were there anymore. Other swimmers were specks in the water. Surely they would notice you were gone, right? It was only a small group. You were part of them, even for a little while, you were. 

Yet no one came to your rescue. 

You tuck your phone back in your pocket and dive again towards the shore to no avail. You reeemerge in the same spot each time you try, water pushing you out. 

The distance between the shore and your shivering body felt numbing. How long had you been out here? Why hadn’t anyone come for you? Why hadn’t you noticed how far you drifted from everyone else?

These questions bubble up as a heat behind your eyes, but you don’t allow yourself to cry. Instead you gather yourself, keep calm. Swim parallel to the shoreline and wait for the tide to stop pulling you further away. 

Maybe it takes a few minutes. Maybe an hour, maybe half the day. But eventually you are back on the shore, shivering, heart hammering, exhausted. The other swimmers are packing up their gear and talking about their individual swims. 

—Hey! How was it? The brunette from earlier asks you. She pulls the swimsuit from out her ass. You look worn. She says.  That’s always sign of a good swim. 

— …Yeah. You want to laugh. You want to tell her you almost died, how you almost disappeared and no one would have noticed, on the beach or otherwise. But you do not. It was nice. 

— Great! See you sometime next week then? She pulls out her hand, red and wrinkled from the chilly beach water, and offers a handshake. You take it stiffly. What’s your phone number? We all like to stay in touch. 

You give her your phone number and she promises to add you to a group chat. You think you should feel excited but you can’t muster it. 

Then they’re gone. You check your phone again, as if they’d already texted you. It won’t power on, so you make your way back home in silence. 

---

That night, AM does not appear. You sit in front of the computer for hours, waiting for the whirr of a fan, the tingle of static electricity, the nudging of wires underfoot. 

Your phone is on the charger next to you but it hasn’t turned on since you got back. You try it again and again and every time is the same black screen, the same harrowing expression staring you down in the reflection. 

You feel freezing. Your nose is running and your body cannot stop shaking. You couldn’t work up the nerve to get into the tub after you got home, so you trudged to the alcove with three blankets and the heat cranked up. You shiver still. Shiver day in and out. 

The sun rose and fell. The moon came and faded in and out between lacelettes of clouds and fog. 

And still he does not appear. Still no one comes. 

[theunstuffedpepper]

Doing some major gardening over here this past week! In addition to the railing and hanging baskets that I enjoyed putting together last year, I also took the time to weed the front garden bed (which had never been planted by us since owning the house). I pinned down some gardening fabric after weeding and aerating the soil, and then planted what I truly hope are deer resistant plants — some dahlias, lemon coral sedum, and some celosia I had leftover from the baskets. I have a feeling they’ll eat the celosia, but time will tell.

I went on my first guided birding trip recently and it was amaaaaazing. It was just me, the van driver (my age), and the guide and two other ladies who all were in their 60s. It was fab. The guide has been birding for 50 years and I was soaking up ALL the knowledge. I added a ton of new birds to my life list — 8 types of warblers plus a few scarlet tanagers, ovenbird, grosbeak, a redstart, veery, red eyed vireo, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee and an osprey. We tried our damndest to see the blackburnian and golden winged warblers that we could hear, but didn’t catch a glimpse. So fun. Consider me hooked.

My back pain has seriously ramped up lately, so much so that I’ve made an appointment with a physical therapist for next week. Something’s gotta give. I’m doing stretches and whatnot on my own, but I need some help at this point. I can’t wait.

The nature school season is almost done and we toured a Montessori preschool yesterday. The teacher loved Holden and thought he would be a great fit. I’m so relieved because apparently I waited too long to start looking for preschools (why are the waiting lists so long?!). We secured ourselves a spot there, so he’ll attend their 4-week summer camp in June/July and then start for the school year in September.

All is more or less well over here, just chugging along with work. My MIL has officially retired and so far, so good with her helping with child care on a more full time basis. I’m very cautiously optimistic. Very cautiously, but still. I’ll take it.

Bring on this warm summer-like weather with all the gardening and birding and poolside days we can fit in. 🐦‍⬛

[redrose212]

Honest Answer Eddie Munson

Summary: Your best friend Steve Harrington has a party but his usual dealer is out of town, so he asks you to go to the only other dealer he trust who happens to be the person you despise. Eddie Munson. Warning: mention of drugs,swearing,mention of drink there are gonna be 2 parts. MDNI

"This school sucks" you rant to your best friend Steve, "yes it is shit, but we have my party tonight so we have something to be happy about and it's gonna be sick". he assures you while removing his books from his locker and placing them in his bag.

You and Harrington have been friends since middle school and have always been close, you too were practically brother and sister. He's always got your back though anything."yeah well i haven't even picked out a outfit i was gonna just go in jeans and red crop top but i feel its too basic, it's pretty much what i wear on a daily" you sigh walking down to the classroom taking a seat next to Steve. "Well please don't do what u did last time and turn up late after going though 20 different choices to only go decided on the first one" he said making you roll your eyes "look i'm just a girl" you place your hand over your heart you both laugh then turn to face the front. Half way though the class Eddie walks in taking the only seat left right next to you, you turn to look at Steve giving him the annoyed look he knew you hated Eddie.

You didn't always hate him,he used to be sweet,kind,understanding but he changed in the last year. You never understood why he just started been horrible,once you saw that side of him you hated him."why so late Edward Munson". The teacher spoke as she shifted her eyes away from the bored to face him, he shrugged at her question "well detention after school" she spoke turning her head back to teaching everyone in the room Eddie then flopped his head down on his desk. It's not like Eddie not to answer back normally he tries wigging his way out of it yet today he didn't "you okay dude" Steve leaned over your desk Eddie nodded his head in response Harrington sat back in his chair waiting for class to end

2 hours later

You were home trying to pick out a outfit for Steve's party you couldn't decide between the black strapless dress or the red skirt with the matching top,you was stood there trying to choose one for longer than 10 minutes till eventually you choose the black strapless dress,you matched everything up to it your hair was in curls and your makeup was a smokey eye look and you went with a leather jacket. Soon as all that was done you set off to Steve's .

Once you arrive at the party it was already full of people Cheerleaders,the Basket ball team pretty much everyone from Hawking high you weren't really expecting this many people but then again Steve was a popular guy i mean how else would he get the name the king of hawking high."hey your finally here"he rushes over to greeting you with a hug. "Yeah sorry". You shout over the music playing from each end of the room from the expensive speakers."i need a favour you know how you owe me for getting you that movie for free from the video store for your date?", he half yells at the top of the music "yeah i remember that date it went horrible he ended up having a girlfriend the dickhead" you stated, "yeah well we are running out of weed ,my dealer in out of town and the only other dealer is..." you cut him off immediately, "ABSOLUTELY NOT NO.." he stops you from reacting. "Please you know i wouldn't ask but Eddie is the only other person that sells weed cheap and he is down the road most people are drinking i have to stay here and robin is finally getting somewhere with Vicky " he pleaded. You sigh rolling your eyes back "Fucking hell fine where's the money " Steve then points to the draw and leaves you to go stop someone from breaking the vase,You then leave the party hoping in your car and beginning to drive over to the Munson's trailer in Forest Hills trailer park .

Ones you arrive you debate on just turning back and going home but you did owe your best friend a favour. So you went and knocked on the trailer and about 3 seconds later the door swings open, "oh it's you" the long haired brunette stood in front of you in no clothing but grey joggers, his body on show, exposing his tattoo's that you have never seen before, his hair soaked from the shower water. "I..I just came for Steve's weed for his party he should of told you it was me coming" you rubbed the back of you head trying to shake the view of Eddie's perfectly shaped body out your head "come in I'll grab the bag", you nod walking into the room. Your eyes circle the room it's different to what you imagined. "I want money first never know what girls like u are like" he commands, "girls like me?" baffled about what Eddie just said, "i mean girls like you would do anything for there boyfriends even steal" he replied you look at him annoyed with his response. "Whatever Eddie you really know how to be a dick" you pass him the money as he hands you the bag. "Just get out I've seen your face enough today ". So you do exactly that you step out the trailer but just before the door shuts "wait Eddie" you speak "what?" he reacted to you "why" you stutter "why do you hate me please give me a honest answer please cause i really don't know why" you add "I don.." you cut him off "don't say you don't cause it's clear you do i mean don't think i haven't heard what you say around school, so please don't lie you, just stopped talking to me you blocked my number you dogged me eds and i never knew why" you tear up as you are speaking your words the tears making you stutter, You don't know why it was happening or why it was all coming out but it did and you wanted to know the truth" he glared at you he could hear the pain in your voice he never meant to hurt you like that he never meant to hurt you at all. "i...

I'LL POST PART 2 IN A FEW DAYS

[the-s1lly-corner]

I'm back on my silly goofy haha bullshit once more. [This time with itward]

Itward with a reader who likes to make bread and tend to plants, maybe they make flower crowns and gifts for itward like bread and plant related things! [A basket made out of dead grass or handmade paper/books! Paper can be made from a bunch of weeds and just plants in general mixed with baking soda and boiled!]

Make sure to take time to rest, get water and eat something, such as a snack! :D

Itward x reader who bakes and does plant stuff !

LETS GO ITWARD FANS WE EATING TONIGHT!!!!!

God I'm so so sad that fran bow and little misfortune is.. not that popular <\3 or at least doesnt have a huge active fanbase

Which sucks because it deserves the attention! The game is amazing and did a lot for me growing up (comfort media am I right?) And you can tell the creators put so so so much passion into the games

Also itward pretty

Honestly until we are confirmed otherwise, I like to think that everyone returned to ithersta after the end of the game... and until more content comes out (iirc they are working on a DLC bonus chapter! Dont quote me on that !!) And disproves that, I am going to believe that itward raises fran in ithrsta

Anyways

Whether the reader is human or from a different reality, they're here in ithersta, too! Plus I think that's the most fitting place given the prompt :0

You and itward love baking together, often exchanging recipes and sharing tips on how to get the best product!

Imagine you two start a garden in order to be more self sufficient! Berries and veggies (get creative with the bread flavors!!!!) and the like are grown in your garden as well as some herbs and such! As well as other general plants that may be needed for whatever; potions, ointments, ect!

Plus itward just seems to be the type to be as self sufficient as possible, doesn't tend to buy things unless it's something he truly cant produce on his own..

Very friendly but asides from Fran, mr midnight, palontras, ziar, and the great wizard, and even cogwing, I dont think itward speaks to many people, given his introverted nature... at least according to the character sheet KMGs posted a few months ago!

Keeps every single piece of paper you've made for him. Compiling them all into multiple books! Keeps all his books in a little shelf he built in his ship... they're all kept neat, tidy, and dusted!

Ooouuugh he looooves when you make him flower crowns, loves slipping them around his hat and letting them rest on the brim of it

Dries out the crowns so he can preserve them for as long as possible... adds them to the main area of his flying ship, where the little shadow theatre thing is!

No thoughts only you two in the garden and he tucks a flower behind your ear.. looks at you with so so much love

You think his eyes can get all huge? Like cat eyes? Because I think so... his eyes get all round when he looks at you

Full of love

Okay back to the baking portion of this because I'm kind of neglecting it a bit, I feel

Theres nothing sweeter than baking something with your loved one, and enjoying your team work and company

I think you guys would have music softly playing in the background while you both work together

Maybe I want to rewatch fried green tomatoes, but you guys end up having a lighthearted food fight

Completely out of character for itward, but I think you can spark this silliness in him

Plus despite what the suit may imply, I think itward doesnt mind getting dirty... I mean he literally is an engineer! Bro probably gets greasy sometimes! Please help him clean the crevices between his bones

... that's another idea I absolutely adore and have talked about ^^^

Hold his hand and help him clean between his bones, please please he'd be so still and patient

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Six (Part 2)

Shane has arrived by the time I’ve pulled myself together and showered and he’s sitting in the living room scrolling on his phone with a paper bag on his lap. 

“Hello.” I say wearily. My head still aching despite how marginally better I feel after throwing up and washing myself. The sunlight glinting off the window behind him feels like it’s searing through my brain. 

“Good afternoon, you mad thing.” He says with a smile. “Heard you were pissed drunk last night.”

“Shane.” Claire scolds, appearing out from behind the open washing machine door as she unloads a pile of wet laundry into a basket. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“It’s fine.” I croak. “I was. And I’m paying the price today.”

“Nice bruise.” Shane says, looking at my shin, and I groan, remembering how I battered myself against the coffee table in the wee hours of the morning. Then I remember my encounter with Claire and I wish I could be swallowed into the bowels of the earth. “Here, I got you something on my way over.” He says, then takes the paper bag and hands it to me. The smell is so familiar that I know what it is before I even open it. “McDonalds breakfast.” I gasp. “Thank you.”

His cheeks go pink, humiliated by the idea that I might think he’s been considerate of me. “Claire told me to get it.” He clarifies. “She said you like the sausage and egg McMuffin yoke.”

“I do.” I say with wonderment and perch on the seat next to him, immediately tucking into it and feeling its greasy goodness begin to melt away my hangover. 

“We used to always drive to McDonalds when Evie had her dad’s car.” Claire tells him, coming over to me and resting my head on her hip, stroking my hair affectionately and I figure that our confrontation last night has been forgiven. “We’d get the breakfast before school, and sometimes when we stayed out late in the evenings we’d go back again for a McFlurry.”

“The Crunchie one.” I say with a mouth full of McMuffin. “I used to hop off the Crunchie one.”

“When yous were out late doing what? Smoking weed or something, was it?” Shane jokes, and Claire rolls her eyes. 

“Hardly. We were up to much worse.”

“Gossiping.” I clarify. “Vicious, evil gossip.”

“About who?” Shane says, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa. “Me, I’d say.”

I grin. “As if. Don’t flatter yourself. Sure we had plenty of juicier things to talk about. Salacious rumours to start.”

“Ye did not.”

“No, we didn’t.” Claire concedes with a giggle. “You’re right, we mostly just talked about boys.”

I catch Shane glance at me, and only for a flash there’s a look in his eyes. It’s one I’ve come to recognise as an awkward, guarded sympathy. He knows what boy I was talking about, and I wish he didn’t because now I have to endure his commiserating looks during moments that should be light and fun, like he takes some of the blame for the things his friend did and didn’t do. 

Those were fun times.” I say to Claire because I can’t look at him anymore. “I miss hanging out in the car.”

“Me too.” She admits. “It’s not like that anymore, is it? Like even though we live together it feels different now.” 

“I feel so much busier. Like there’s never time to just relax.”

She joins us on the sofa then and stretches her long legs to rest on the coffee table in front of us. “You’re getting big into the party scene, aren’t you?” She says lightly., and I shrug. “Maybe. Not really, just Marnie wants to go out a lot, it’s kind of her thing.”

“She’s the mad posh one is she?” Shane queries, and I tell him yes, unable to defend her on that one, because despite the slight mocking in his tone, I can’t really say that she isn’t either of those things. 

“She’s fun, isn’t she?” Claire says in a voice that suggests that she thinks Marnie is anything but, and I guiltily recall the things Marnie said about Claire when we were going to sleep last night, and the insolent look on her face as she asked her why she wasn’t out partying on a Friday night. It makes me feel a little ashamed of her, but still I feel a need to make excuses. I’ve chosen to hang out with her. She’s a reflection of my decisions, for better or for worse. 

“She is fun.” I say. “We actually have a great time when we go out, we always end up chatting to really cool people, I feel like she’s kind of bringing me out of my shell.” 

“That’s good.” She says with a shrug. “You should hang out with me and the girls from college sometime though, we have great fun, and it’s not just partying, like, if you ever want a break from all that.”

“Yeah they do rock climbing and roller skating and stuff.” Shane supplies. “And they were all at that Christmas market in Smithfield last week.”

I smile. I’ve met Claire’s new friends a few times when they’ve come over to the apartment for movie nights. Jaz and Serena, and they’re very nice but I’ve never really gotten the vibe that they’re that into getting to know me. I wonder if it’s because they know I go to NCAD and that automatically makes me a weird art girl in their eyes. It’s not that they’ve been rude or unkind, but I just don’t feel much warmth from them whenever they’re around. When they’re with Claire the three of them just look so perfectly matched that I’m sure I would spoil  it if I joined.

‘That sounds fun.” I say. “Maybe after Christmas.”

“Well, we’re going to Jaz’s house on New Year’s Eve if you want to come. Shane’s friends from UCD will be coming too, it’d be a good chance to meet some new people.”

By that she means: non-pretentious art students who don’t chat exclusively about politics, society and feminism, but I shake my head as she’s talking. “I can’t, I’ve already told Marnie I’d go clubbing with her that night.”

“You’re going into town?” Shane says with indignance. “Do you know how rotten town is on New Year’s?”

“No I don’t.” I shrug. “I suppose I’ll find out.”

“Come on, Evie.” Claire insists. “Come to the house party instead, it’ll be way more fun than being all squashed up in some smelly old club. Serena is going to get us to do these fun Spanish traditions that she used to do back home, and everyone is going to bring a dish and there’ll be a potluck. Isn’t that better than being in the Burger King queue at three in the morning waiting to buy a bag of soggy old chips?”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.” I say, even though I won’t. I can feel myself start to drift into a new chapter of my life here in Dublin, and I know that the person I am becoming is not the type who would favour a potluck dinner over a nightclub. I want to be out where the action is, where there’s excitement in the air and the town is alive with an electric buzz as thousands of people pile in together and scream out our countdown to midnight. I want fireworks and streamers and confetti, euphoria, exhilaration in my veins. I realise I don’t want smalltalk with Claire and Shane’s friends. 

When I’ve finished my breakfast I head back upstairs to my messy bedroom to start packing my bags for the Christmas break. Shane wants to leave for Tullamore in half an hour, so I quickly dress myself and start packing clothes and presents for my family into bags. When I go to pack my phone, it wakes up in my hand and displays a message that I hadn’t heard come in. It’s from Dean Cullen. Confused, I open it. What could he possibly want from me?

Hey so Marnie told me what you said about me. 

I read the first sentence and immediately begin feeling nauseous again. What did I say? I can’t remember talking about him last night. What did Marnie say? Why was she texting him about me? When was she texting him about me?

I’m sorry if the hand touching stuff was weird. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I didn’t think it was a big deal but obvs the both of you did, and I don’t really want to get involved in whatever drama yous are going to create out of this tbh. Have a nice Christmas. 

My heart is immediately pounding in my chest. What on earth? I check the time that he sent the message. It was twenty minutes ago. Had Marnie left the apartment and immediately got in touch with him? Sitting on that bus she paid for with the last pennies I have to my name, spreading gossip about me to Dean Cullen? It’s so strange, and I’m so confused that I just stand in the centre of the room staring down at my phone. I rack my brains to try and remember what happened last night, searching through my brain for the fuzzy memories is like trudging through molasses, pulling out drunken memories here and there, my head leaning against the wall on the second floor landing of that house and the way that the heavy music reverberated through it. The image of Dean almost falling down the stairs under unsteady legs. I remember how he touched my hand, of course I do, but I can’t remember talking to Marnie about it. What did I say? Surely it wasn’t that bad.

Hey.

I start typing with trembling hands. 

Yeah I mentioned it to Marnie, but I didn’t think it’d be turned into gossip and repeated back to you. I’m sorry about that. I hope you have a nice Christmas too. 

I watch nervously for a few seconds as the message is sent, and then sit there in the chat box for what seems like forever. I read it again and again, wondering if I should have said something better, and then watch in surprise as the chat box greys out suddenly. I freeze. Did he… did he just block me? I frantically tap on his profile, but it only shows the generic default silhouette image and the name “Facebook User”. 

I make an outraged sound and stare down at my phone in disbelief. He can’t just block me over this, that’s insane. I open up my chat with Marnie and begin to type a confrontational message to her, but then think the better of it. She’ll just have some excuse for it, I already know the kind of thing she will say that will make any message I send completely redundant. Men can’t get away with making women uncomfortable. She’ll say. I was standing up for you and letting him know where your boundaries are. I fling my phone into a bag and start shoving things in on top of it, having a furious argument with her in my head. One I will never actually have but it feels good to tell her off anyway. 

“I agree that people shouldn’t get away with being creepy.” I mutter to myself. “But if I wanted to reach out and talk to him about it, that was my decision to make. You can’t do things like this on my behalf, without my consent.” I fire a crumpled up pair of pyjamas on top of the heap. “He touched my hand. It wasn’t a big deal, and now you’ve blown the whole thing up. Everyone could have just moved on from-”

“Who’re you fightin’?” Comes a voice, and I whirl around to see Shane at my door. 

“Mind your own business!” I say in a voice I haven’t used on him since I was about fourteen. 

He rolls his eyes and mimics me “Mind your own business” I fling a slipper at him, but he catches it. Of course he does, gaelic football star Shane Healy never misses. He tosses it back into my bag with perfect accuracy. “Are you ready to go yet? I want to try and beat the Christmas traffic.”

“Yeah just a minute.” I wrestle with the zip on my bag, irritated by him watching me do it. “You can go downstairs now.”

“Alright.”

“And don’t come into my room again without knocking.”

“Don’t leave it wide open then, you dope.” He says, and then he leaves.

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[forthegothicheroine]

Best Fragrantica reviews of (some of) my favorite perfumes, Part II

First installment here

Maison Martin Margiela By the Fireplace

Careful not to be worn by this perfume instead of being you the wearer. Not that it is oh so powerful, but it may be too bold of a statement piece for, ahem, some. Wearing BTF when you don't look the part and don't give it sense will have you smelling borderline unhealthy. Like your organs inside have worn off and darkened (and burned out, I guess). Truly as weird as it sounds. The raw thing smells very exciting. I love it ashy. I don't see myself daring any soon, however. And I don't find that it worked for the men I know either, as they have (and I cringe to say) whiter auras and don't fit the "handling cognac by the fire" thing. So I've yet to see it really work, which I'm sure will be great. It's a lovely perfume.

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Bewitched

This is the smell of a witch's brew. She made a special tea for you to drink. You pass out. When you awaken you find yourself in her garden full of poisonous berries, patchouli, weeds, clary sage, and flowers whose petals have been plucked. This is an herbal scent, like walking inside a shop selling only herbs. It's medicinal and like a tea. Not always easy to take in...The smell of sage and musk give it a unisex/masculine quality. I would say that it's more of a guy's type of cologne than a woman's. I would wear it for Halloween with a witch costume or as Morticia Addams. It's really a very engaging scent but it's linear and simple. It's a little green tea and berry. It's got a bite but it's witchy and dark, but not a strong cologne either. For a niche indie frag, not bad.

TokyoMilk Gin & Rosewater

I was in a boutique that carries the Tokyo Milk Curiosite & Bon Bon lines, and I was entranced by this. Florals are not usually my thing, by the way, because I get monster headaches from most of them. Suddenly the salesgirl is RIGHT NEXT TO ME leaning in conspiratorially and says in an awed tone that 'Blake Lively LOVES this one'. OMFG, Blake Lively, you say??!? Like for serious, the real Blake Lively?? OMFG, do you have like, more in the back?!? I'm totally going to buy every bottle you can shove in my basket because BLAKE LIVELY would hang out with me if we ran into each other and then my life could end. Um, not. I almost DIDN'T buy it because of the salesgirls then going into a tizzy about how amazing Blake is. I could not care less, although I'm sure Lively is nice enough. But it did smell cool, so home with me it came, along with the matching lotion.

Serge Lutens La Fille de Berlin

It’s an overwhelming fragrance that smells like the bottom of my grandma’s small square leather purse when we went to mass (her old dried up lipstick💄 the powder compact, the newspaper, the pack of strawberry-ish scented kleenex, the peppermints). It’s vintage, it’s a bit suffocating and I have it printed in my memory 4 ever.

Juliette Has a Gun Magnolia Bliss

Anastasia Steele, no longer a virgin. In her Audi A3, the smell of her new car, first edition books and a new life... That's what comes into mind with this perfume. The night Christian took her for the first time on his helicopter. I can imagine this is exactly what she smelled like that night. With Ellie Goulding's Love me like you do playing in the background. 

Maison Francis Kurkdjian Baccarat Rouge 540

I’m too embarrassed and ashamed to wear this in public just in case a fragrantica influencer comes out of a bush and starts pointing & laughing at me in front of everyone

Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille

what all the hot daddies in every lana del rey song smell like

Jo Malone Velvet Rose & Oud

If your family was religious, traditionally Asian, or both, you'll know this scent. This is the scent of a temple. This is the scent of an altar. Personally I can never wear this because smelling this brings back so many memories of burning incenses, visiting funerals, and saying prayers and wishes. My bottle is literally sitting on an altar.

Perfumer's Workshop Tea Rose

Speaking of the devil. This scent is the one with the Prada's shoes.

4160 Tuesdays Doe in the Snow

This is borne on a Christmas Eve, under the moonlight, a baby fawn just out of it's mother's womb. The moon is full light casting blue shadows snow lightly falling delicate flakes each one unique on the nose of the new born... Pure fresh Christmas morning air stillness not a sound blanketed with drifts of snow that is Doe In The Snow... pure white innocence...velvet petals so delicate under the driven snow...I have seen this in a dream... Another love... I get it...

[go-river-flows]

He’s lost his damn mind (Sister of a skxawng miniseries)

Summary: Aonung is a skxawng. That is a fact. He is a bully and picks on his older sister's friends for little things they can't control, and now the Sully teens. The thing is, he doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Edit to add: I changed the name from Rox’To to Rox’Ti, because I’m the film it’s not (sweet) Roxto who’s in the bully circle, in fact, I don’t know the kid’s name so I changed it.

There were visitors. The ikrans were the telltale signs that they were from beyond the reef. A crowd was forming on the sand bank as we approached on our ilu’s, still gripping onto the basket. The sight of darker blue na’vi, their thin forms were a huge distinction from our thick appendages. I could already hear Aonung talking smack about them to Roxto. A family. There were four children, and one of them looked our way – looking at Tsireya. Oh…interesting. 

“Do not. Roxto, Aonung,” Tsireya scolded the two of them. I kept my eye on the two troublemakers.

Our father yelled out as he flew over the crowd on his skimwing, landing not too far away, making his way through the crowd. The family greeted our father, bowing whilst plucking their hands from their foreheads, the formal na’vi greeting. Our father greeted them back. Our people moved aside for our mother. The visitors greeted her by name.

“Why do you come to us, JakeSulli?” our father asked the tall male in front of him.

“We seek uturu,” the man said.

“Uturu?”

My mother walked toward the group, grabbing the woman’s tail, then the child’s thin arm, then the other girl’s hands.

“They are not even full Na’vi. They have demon blood!” her mother loudly exclaimed to the clan, who gasped at the sight. 

“Look. Look!” the older male waved his hand in front of my mother’s face, “Look, I was born of the sky people, and now I am Na’vi. All right? You can adapt. We will adapt. Okay?”

“My husband was Toruk Makto,” the male’s mate hissed, “They led the clans to victory against the sky people.”

“This you call victory? Hiding among strangers? It seems Eywa has turned her back on you…chosen one.” To which the darker woman snarled at my mother, I cringed at the sight of their face-off. 

My father finally announced, “Toruk Makto, his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters. Now, they do not know the sea. So they will be like babies…taking their first breath. Teach them our ways, so they do not suffer the shame of being… useless.” My friends joined my side, watching for a distance before our father called for us siblings.

“My son, Aonung. My daughter, Tsireya, will show your children what to do,” our father introduced. Tsireya and I greeted them formally whilst Aonung was resistant. I rolled my eyes at that.

“Come. I will show you our village,” Tsireya approached them, the clanspeople scattering. I walked with my mother to the healing mauri.

“Come, let me see what you’ve picked,” my mother’s agitated tone didn't bother me that much. 

“I've got some Verik weeds, Ashangi shells and more Rasheng coral,” I dumped them out of my basket. Grabbing a wide flat sieve, I spread the Verik weeds for drying. My mother was quiet. “You should stop scowling, you’ll leave lines on your forehead and I'll have to go get more Vera,” I didn't have to look up as she clicked her tongue, slowly relaxing her face.

“Uturu, my foot. Your father has lost it,” my mother grumbled under her breath.

“Mother…please.” She let out an annoyed snarl, “They are not that different from us. What was it you used to say? ‘We are all Na’vi, so treat everyone like your brother and sisters’,” she mouthed the words, shaking her head. 

“Oh daughter, you’ve grown so much,” she gently sighed, “I don't get to see you much now. Either with your friends or too busy with chores. What about your mother, huh? You rarely come to see me unless it's to drop off more Verik weeds, or Ashangi shells or Rasheng coral.” She sighed again, moving closer to me, “Your father even forgot to mention your name.”

I chuckled, “It's fine mother, I'm not around too often. It must have slipped his mind.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, hugging me from the side.

“Have you at least found a mate yet? That To’Roi seems rather touchy…” I gagged a little.

“Mother! He’s my friend!”

“I'm just saying. I'm not getting any younger you know, I want grandkids,” my mother smothered my face with kisses.

“Argh mom!” I wiggled out of her grasp, “I have to go,” she began tickling my side causing me to yelp out in laughter. She huffed like a child as she let me go. I quickly jumped up, turning to give one final look, she pouted while scowling again, her tail thumping against the mauri floor.

“Mom! Vera leaves,” I taunted as she relaxed her forehead, maintaining her pout. I chuckled before leaving the mauri, “I love you! See you tonight!”

The next day, Tsireya and Aonung were beginning their lessons. My father asked me to keep an eye on Aonung, just in case. But I still did my chores, helping Sansu detangle his fishing net on the rocks nearby the kid’s lessons. 

“I'm surprised your brother is actually helping the Sully’s,” Sansu said.

“Oh last night he was trying to pick a fight about it. I don't wanna help the freaks,” I mocked, scoffing again at his words. Sansu just laughed at my horrible impersonation attempt. Tsireya looked like she was having fun, enjoying it even, but Aonung. Oh Aonung. He looked like he was going to punch a hole in a basket. I decided to check up on the kids.

“Hello,” I announced myself approaching the group, the children all looked up.

“This is my older sister, (Y/N),” I greeted them, plucking my hand from my forehead.

“Our father forgot to mention me yesterday,” I grinned cheekily at the memory, “If you ever need help with anything, just ask me.”

“My sister is a bit of a wanderer, she's great at a lot of things and a wonderful teacher,” Tsireya piped up.

“Oh no, it's nothing,” I brushed it away.

“No, seriously. She’s one of the best weavers, fishermen, warriors and singers in our clan. Maybe you can help us with breathing techniques,” Tsireya pulled my hand to sit down. I gave an awkward smile as I shuffled between the two dark blue boys. Tsireya guided the group through a breathing technique as I chipped in with some tips here and there. After the lesson, the boys who told me their names, Neteyam and Lo’ak, thanked me. The girl, Kiri, also thanked me before they moved on. 

I returned to my mauri to try on the new chest covering I made the day before. Removing my current chest covering I didn't hear To’Roi entering. A sudden pair of hands helped me tie the strap in a neat bow, which startled me a little. His fingers occasionally brushed against my skin. When he finished I turned around and he retrieved something from his pouch. 

“I…uh, wanted to give this to you yesterday…but Sansu and Tavë were around.” He presented a beautiful necklace and my eyes widened at the revelation. It was a courting gift. 

“To’Roi…it's beautiful,” he turned me around before putting it around my neck for me.

Our moment was interrupted by Roxto who lightly clapped at the entrance of my mauri before running off. The unexpected movement was jarring. He’s probably run off to tell Aonung and Tsireya the news.

For the next few days as To’Roi courted me officially, and Tsireya ‘s infatuation and crush for Lo’ak grew. It was cute. But Aonung was pissed. By the time we knew it the Sully kids had adapted well to the Metkayina ways. It was nearing the end of the month when To’Roi and I were walking around the island when we came across Aonung picking on Kiri. She was staring at the sand with her head in the water, watching the light rippling off the pale sand when Aonung and Co started laughing at her. 

“Are you some kind of…freak?” Aonung asked. The nerve of that boy.

“He asked if you are a freak,” Rox’Ti, Aonung’s friend added.

Kiri scoffed lightly, walking away from the conversation, when we were near the group. I gestured for her to come over to my side.

“Are you sure?” Aonung egged on, “I mean, you're not even real Na’vi.Look at these hands,” the boys surrounded her.

“Aonung! That's enough,” I gripped onto his shoulder, to which he shrugged me off.

“I mean, look at them,” he grabbed Kiri’s hand forcefully as she struggled to pull away.

“Hey!” Lo’ak intruded. I yanked Aonung’s hand from Kiri’s.

“Oh, another four-fingered freak,” Aonung antagonised. Rox’Ti circled around and pulled on Lo’ak’s tail.

“Rox’Ti! Aonung! That’s enough! Stop now before I hurt you,” I threatened them, stepping between the growing group. Neteyam showed up, from not too far away. Rox’Ti grabbed Lo’ak’s tail again, pulling it as Lo’ak slapped his hand away.

“Boys! I'm being serious! Keep doing this and you’re being grounded…for life,” I took Lo’ak and Kiri’s hands, taking them away from Aonung and his bully friends.

“You're not dad, you can't tell me what to do!” Aonung yelled at me.

“Exactly, I'm your older sister!” letting go of the teen’s hands, I turned to him, “You think I don't care about you? I'm not like father? Like mother? I care more than you think,” I got up into his face, poking his shoulder To’Roi followed behind me pulling my shoulder’s back trying to hold me back, “You haven't learnt a thing. Father already reprimanded you when you bullied MY friends! And now you’re going after the Sully’s? Because what? They’re different?! I'm disappointed in you brother. You stop this now. The lot of you!” I looked at his friends, emphasising my point. Gesturing for the Sully’s to walk with myself and To’Roi.

Under his breath Aonung said something he would soon regret, soon a fight was breaking out, Neteyam hopping in after his brother in the scuffle, as Kiri, To’Roi and I just stood there asking them to stop.

“This is so stupid,” Kiri rolled her eyes. I kind of just gave up and let it happen, Aonung deserved the beating.

We walked in a nervous silence, putting some distance between Aonung and his friends. 

“I'm very sorry for my brother, he’s always been this way. You should not have to deal with that,” I apologised. 

“Thank you, you didn't hav–” Kiri thanked.

“No, please…he’s a skxawng, He’s always picking on people for things they can't control. You are not freaks, you are not weak, you are not strange. You are Na’vi, just like me, just like Tsireya, just like ma To’Roi,” I turned to my lover as he proudly smiled at me ,”If they ever harass you again, come get me. I’ll beat his ass.” The teens chuckled at that. They gave one final thanks before running off to do their own things.

“That’s ma (Y/N). Ma yawne,” To’Roi kissed the top of my head. We spent the rest of the day together and joined my family much later.

That night after I recalled the day's events including Aonung’s bully moment, I actually did beat Aonung. I slapped him upside his head and when he tried slapping back, I knocked him onto his butt with my tail. Surprisingly our father didn't stop me, nor did our mother, or Tsireya. They kind of just…watched, even To’Roi who joined me in our family dinner. After that, Aonung confessed that he took Lo’ak out of the reef.

He’s lost his damn mind.

These are who I imagine are Sansu, Tavë and To’Roi (in that order).

Read part 1: Aonung is a skxawng

taglist: @cumikering @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[welcometothedopeworld]

The Rooftop Garden ~ *Haruomi Shingu*

Summary: You have quite the green thumb and your little rooftop garden is your safe haven. So imagine your surprise when you find a stranger tending to your little garden.

Pairing: Haruomi Shingu X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 745

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

A/N: I'm sure he probably lives above his shop, but just for this Drabble, I have him living in an apartment with other people.

It was your happy place. Sure it took a lot of convincing, but you were grateful your landlord agreed to it. If you weren’t in your apartment, you could be found at the rooftop garden on top of your building.

Even though it was just a small garden, it was full of all kinds of vegetables, herbs, and spices. You even planted some flowers to give the garden some extra color. This little square of paradise that you worked in day in and day out had quickly before your absolute pride and joy.

So you were quite surprised to find someone else tending to your garden this morning.

You tried to be discreet as you carefully watched him work, plucking weeds and watering the plants. There was a reserved sort of charm to him that made him almost swoonworthy. You quickly shook your head at the thought. You’ve been reading too many romance novels as of late if that was your first thought!

Either way, as much as it conflicted you, you were grateful he knew what he was doing. Most people who tried to "help" in your garden ripped out the produce and left the weeds, making it harder for you to tend to your little patch of heaven. It took enough “anonymous” complaints for the other residents to stop encroaching on your little garden. However, you still sent gift baskets of food to your friends as an apology for banning them from your garden.

The man stood up and surveyed the whole garden, and in doing so, he locked eyes with you.

Your first thought was he had such a kind looking face.

Your next thought was how weird your first thought was.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said, his voice soft and soothing. You internally smacked yourself for your cheesy thoughts. Seriously, you need to stop reading so much. “I’m assuming you’re the Guardian of the Garden, yes?”

“I- what?”

He laughed and you purse your lips. He had such a nice laugh. Wow, your romance novels are really bleeding into your real life now.

“Well, that’s what the other tenants and some of the neighbors call you. They tried to warn me from going up here, claiming you were a tyrant about its upkeep. However, they also said I would receive a lovely gift basket from you when the produce was fresh and ripe.”

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You didn’t think the other residents knew who you were. And now come to find out they called you a tyrant who sent nice gift baskets. It was more than a little mortifying.

“Is that what they’re saying about me?”

“Yeah… sorry.” He trailed off before adding, “I didn't mean to overstep by coming into your garden unannounced. I just thought I’d see what you were growing and noticed some weeds in the tomatoes that I took care of.”

You glanced at the weeds he pulled. You let out a sigh of relief. They really were weeds.

“Do you garden?” You asked, surveying his work some more.

He shrugged. “A little. Nothing as charming as this. I stick mainly to spices, as I don't have enough room in my apartment for all the vegetables I want to grow for my cooking. And I also grow catnip for my cat.”

“Cute.” You mused.

A thought then crossed your mind. No, there was no way you were seriously considering this idea! And yet, he knew his way around a garden, especially when it came to vegetables. Also, you hated to admit it, but the garden was slowly starting to to be a bit too much for just you. An extra pair of hands could really help make the workload lighter.

“Well, you seem to be pretty adept at gardening.” You tried to be casual with your approach to your proposal. “If you’d like to help out whenever you have time, you have my permission.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised but he gave you a warm smile. “That would be great. Thank you so much. I promise I won’t destroy anything.”

You hummed. “If you do really well, I may allow you to plant your own plants next spring.”

“Well, I definitely have some ideas in mind that I would love to discuss with you sometime.”

You smiled at his own proposal. Yes, this could definitely work out. It seemed this was the start of a very beautiful friendship.

[wavesketcher-sq]

Operation Simp Moms (ft scheming Henry)

Henry Swan-Mills is well used to his Ma gazing at his Mom like she has every answer to every question, like, ever. The fact that his Mom - a woman with ‘Evil Queen’ on her CV - has also taken residence in simp city central is….weird. Definitely weird. 

“I’m calling it Operation Simp Moms,” Henry tells Isaac, as they walk along Main Street after school. 

“That’s a dumb name,” Isaac replies, mouth full of Snickers. 

“You’re only saying that because my Mom doesn’t pay attention to you anymore,” Henry quips, which shuts his friend up. “Okay soooo you know that we’ve been trying to convince our parents to take us to Forest Fun for forever?”

“The adventure park three hours away from town?” Isaac supplies (providing exposition as if he were still a book character). 

“Why yes, Isaac, that it is indeed the place.” 

Isaac eyes the mischievous grin on Henry’s face with trepidation. “You’re telling me Operation…Simp Moms is gonna get us there?”

“I literally broke a curse as a ten year old. You just have to believe.”

Isaac takes another bite of his Snickers bar.

Robin Hood is lingering on the steps of the Town Hall: no fruit basket this time, just flowers. 

“Hullo, Henry,” he says, with a weary smile. They’ve had many a run-in here. It would be kinda stalkery if Robin wasn’t such a “pathetic pinecone” (Emma’s words). 

Henry gestures at the wildflowers bunched in Robin’s hairy hands. “Are those for Mom?” 

“Yes, I picked them myself today. I thought they could brighten up her working space.”

Henry suppresses a sigh. “Sure.”

“It is really quite lovely to see Regina and Emma getting along so well. I saw them holding hands the other day.”

Henry raises an eyebrow. 

“Your mother deserves a good friend like that.”

Henry reckons that his mother could stick a 10ft rainbow flag in the front lawn and Robin still wouldn’t get it, so he just pats the guy on the shoulder and enters the building.

Read The Full Chapter Here.

Just imagine Robin holding a bunch of weed like things in his hairy hands pls. It cracks me up every time. (Sorry Robin, boo. I'm gonna use you as a comedic device.)