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[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — green with envy

"wanting to be special to you. wanting to be the only one you touch. wanting you."

You were Malleus’s first true friend.

He treasures you in every form, in every mood you come to him in. There’s a glow about you when you’re happy, a cloud around you when you’re upset, and a flame around you when you’re angry. There’s a myriad of other emotions he sees in you, disgust and love and amusement and awe and calmness and anxiety, and each one is more fascinating than the last.

He wants to draw every single one out of you and see how you deal with them. He wants to pick you apart and know every single thing about you because it seems wrong not to know.

But others know.

Others know you just as well, if not better than he does, and it irritates him.

There’s a small, immature part of him that feels the urge to summon lightning and strike down his competition because that’s what they are, right?

He believes humans call his emotion jealousy. He wasn’t aware he could feel something this gut-wrenching, but he supposes you’re such a curious little thing that you’d spawn feelings like this within him without even knowing.

That’s true, you don’t know what you do to him, do you?

Naivety doesn’t suit you.

He wants to be your first friend. He wants to be as special to you as you were to him. He doesn’t want to lose you. No one has ever touched his heart the way you can, and Malleus knows nobody else will ever get as deep into his soul as you did.

You dug your way through the towering stone walls with your own two hands, and the second you broke through, the whole wall he'd built over centuries and centuries crumbled completely. He wishes you weren’t so kind. He wishes your presence wasn’t so comforting and he wishes there was a feasible reason to hate you because he can’t stand being this dependent on you.

You would tell him that you’re not the only kind person in the world.

As Malleus sees you talking and laughing with friends that are him, he hopes you’d be wrong.

He doesn’t want to feel this jealous feeling ever again.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — orange blossom

"gentle sunlight in the morning. waking up still feeling tired."

There’s a bird chirping outside. The red tinted shadows behind your eyelids slowly dissipate as you open your eyes, squinting as the sunrise. There’s still a sleepy haze floating around your brain, but you do your best to dispel it as you sit up.

“Where are you going?” Leona grumbles, rolling over to face you.

His eyes aren’t even open, you observe with a chuckle. He must still be half asleep.

“To get food. I’m hungry and you’ll be just as cranky as me if we don’t get something.” you pat his head, and he bumps against your palm as if seeking more of your affection.

“Mmm…Ruggie can do that.” he mumbles, hands wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you back down into the bedsheets, “Don’t go.”

“Don’t go.” Ruggie mocks playfully, stepping into the room with a smug grin on his face, “Does this mean I can take your wallet, Leona?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” he growls, soft demeanor gone, “Just get back here in a hurry. The herbivore is hungry.”

“On it.” Ruggie chuckles, swiping his wallet off of the dresser and scurrying out of the room.

You watch him go with an amused grin. It’s amazing how close the two are, even if it may seem otherwise to other students. Actually, now that you think about it, they’re more likely to marvel at you and Leona than at Ruggie and Leona.

“There, see? Problem solved.” Leona grumbles, butting his head against your thigh insistently, “Now lay back down. You’re being annoying.”

You roll your eyes at his neediness and do as he says. A deep sigh escapes him when you slip back into his arms, and before you know it he’s snoring softly into your ear as if he never even woke up. As you run your fingers through his hair, you fall asleep, his heartbeat thundering in your ears.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — midnight blue

"the glow of a pc in a dark room. the stars outside at night. the chill in a bedroom as evening creeps in."

It’s dark. Idia knows he should be asleep by now, but instead he continues to stare at his computer monitor and fidget with a lock of his flaming blue hair. He hears your soft snoring as you sleep but elects to ignore it, knowing how dangerous it would be to acknowledge how this makes him feel. He isn’t allowed to have nice things like this, but you keep giving them to him and he doesn’t know how to cope.

A bright GAME OVER pops up on the screen when he finally turns his attention back to the screen, but he’s not even mad. The game pitters off into silence as the loading symbol appears at the bottom of the screen, and his headphones do nothing to block out your soft murmur of his name.

Idia partially throws the headphones off his head, whipping around in his chair to stare wide eyed at you. You’re still fast asleep, arms tossed out on the bed and head flopped against his pillow. His heart squeezes in his chest, and he wonders how you ever managed to get so close to him. Ortho always said it was a good thing, but really. How good was having someone over?

Idia doesn’t understand why you haven’t called him weird and creepy yet. He knows he is.

“But I like your hair, Idia. It’s so radiant and soothing. It’s a very pretty shade of blue and it’s so warm.” you murmured, gently scratching at his scalp as he curled into you, “And I like your smile, too. Your teeth are really cute, I’m glad you don’t hide them from me.”

Great Seven, you spoke about him like he was a treasure. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t know if it ever will, because he knows you’re not leaving and you’ll forever be this weird.

“Idia.” you breathe, and he squeaks at how you say his name.

Climbing into bed with you is so appealing that he thinks he might just do something as stupid as that. Fuck, that is total normie behavior. He’s way out of his depth here. This is like fighting a final boss at level one. He isn’t ready. He isn’t ready.

“Idia.”

He isn’t ready.

Idia turns back to his PC and puts his headphones back on. He clicks the retry option on the screen, and as the loading screen pops up again he sneaks a peek at you.

If you ever want to sleep over again, maybe he’ll have the courage to retry this level too.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — lilac snow

"the soft gentle chill of winter. sleeping under a tree & snuggling for warmth."

Silver is a sight to behold.

People at NRC don’t appreciate his facial features enough. It’s always Vil this and Leona that and sometimes even whispers about Malleus, but never his quiet guard. Silver, with his silky platinum hair and shimmering violet eyes. Silver, with his soft smile and gentle voice. Silver, with his strength and limitless kindness.

And you’re lucky enough to call him yours.

Ramshackle’s front lawn was coated in fluffy white snow, the chill of the breeze carrying snowflakes down to the Earth. You look over at Grim, who's sitting in the kitchen and clutching a mug of hot tea in his paws. He’s staring out at the world outside, comfortable in the very minimal heat Ramshackle retains. Silver is a little ways down your walkway with a shovel, scooping up snow and tossing it away from the stone path. You clutch the hot tea closer to your chest, watching him just in case he starts to get tired.

Of course, he isn’t Malleus’s guard for nothing. This is nothing to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” you call out, brow furrowing.

He turns back to look at you and smiles, and you nearly pass out.

“You’ve asked me that seven times now.” he says softly, shaking his head, “I’m okay. You should go inside.”

“Don’t want to leave you alone out here.” you mumble, taking a sip of the tea to hide your undoubtedly flustered facial expression. “Seems cruel.”

“It’s not.” he murmurs, stabbing the shovel through the snow to keep it in place, “What would be cruel is it I made you stay out here to keep me company.”

“It’s not like it’s warmer in Ramshackle. Damn place has swiss cheese for walls.” you huff, and Silver laughs.

You almost drop your tea, you're so shocked. Silver schools his face to seriousness again, and you wish you could plead for him to show you that beautiful sound again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. You’re funny.” Silver offers you his hand, “Tell you what, I’ll take a break with you. Let’s get you warmed up, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you.” you pout, taking his hand.

Silver’s expression softens. He leans in and kisses your forehead, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Come on, we shouldn’t bicker.” he tugs you inside, “There’s more important things to worry about.”

“Like warming up?”

“Like warming up.”

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — baby blue

"playful and youthful. light and happy. screaming and throwing hissy fits."

“Hey Shrimpy?” Floyd asks, swinging your arms back and forth as you hold hands, “Do ya ever think about the future?”

“...Floyd? Are you okay?” you snicker, looking up at him, “You don’t usually think about the future.”

He gives a half-hearted shrug and a harsh swing of his arm that nearly sends you stumbling into the pavement.

“Ya make me think about things sometimes.” he mumbles, and it’s only then that you realize he’s far more mellow than usual.

“If everything goes according to plan we’ll have a long future together.” you say.

Your words pull a giggle from Floyd, and before you know it you’re being swept into his arms and pressed against his chest. He presses his nose to your hair and breathes, squeezing you tighter and tighter.

“Never wanna let you go, Shrimpy. Never.” he huffs, littering butterfly kisses all over your forehead.

Oh, that’s why he was asking.

“Don’t worry.” you coo, reaching out and cupping his cheek, “I’ve thought about the future too, and I know that right now, all I want is for that future to have us.”

Floyd shrieks with joy, twirling around the pavement as he swings you around like a ragdoll. At this point, he’s done it so much that you don’t even feel dizzy. 

“Think I might die of boredom if you weren’t around anymore.” he pouts, finally setting you down on your wobbly legs.

Right. Because everyone aside from Jade and Azul has left him. Everyone else finds him much too hard to deal with, skirting around him in the halls and avoiding his affection. It isn’t easy being one of the people that he sets his sights on, but it also can’t be easy being rejected by so many people. Even if it doesn’t seem to bother Floyd much, the way he attached himself to you so quickly reminds you that at the end of the day, Floyd Leech is still a teenager with emotional needs.

”Do you ever get lonely?” you blurt, still holding onto him even when he’s set you down.

“Not anymore. I have a cute little Shrimpy now.” he beams, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight, “Never really cared about anybody else anyways. You’re special.”

“It’s rare to see you this soft.” you mumble, intertwining your fingers again, “But I like it a lot.”

Floyd laughs loudly and starts swinging your hands again, both of you happy under the baby blue sky.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — fiery red

"loud and devoted, prideful in those he loves. worshipping the ground they walk on and giving everything for them."

There’s something in the way you simply exist that makes Sebek want to serve you.

He’s well aware the feeling is blasphemous, that he should be focusing all the energy he spends on you on Malleus, but he can’t help it. He finds his mind wandering to you every time he sees people talking and laughing, wondering if he could possibly come up with a jab or jest funny enough for you to laugh like that towards him. He finds himself contemplating what he did in training that day and wondering if you’d be proud, despite never once dwelling on those trivial tasks before.

There’s a sparkle in Master Lilia’s eye when he sees you run up, calling out Sebek’s name. Sebek waits for permission from Lilia to go and see you (and Lilia won’t tell him this, but Sebek looks so pleading when he does that.)

Sebek straightens his back and smiles (in the condensing smirk only Sebek would use to express such an emotion) as he makes his way over to you. You smile back, carrying a brown paper back and with his name and a smiley face written on it.

“I brought you snacks.” you hand him the bag, “Sorry it wasn’t super fancy...Grim insisted on using the box I usually use for your snacks for his lunch today. Also it’s not Salmon carpaccio but I hope you think it's good anyway—”

“Human! Stop your incessant chattering!” Sebek booms, taking the bag from you, “I am...thankful! For your...pitiful excuse of an offering!”

“Say thank you properly!” you huff, pinching his cheek, “You need to learn that you can’t keep treating me like that just because I’m human!”

“They’re right, you know.” Silver mumbles, offering you a smile in greeting, “Thank you for taking care of Sebek. He was whining earlier because he wasn’t sure if you’d show up.”

“I was not whining!” Sebek yells, face turning red, “Be quiet, Silver!”

“Aww, don’t worry Sebek! I’ll be here whenever you need me.” you tease, your lips splitting into a wide grin, “If you miss me just give me a call, okay darling?”

“Whuph?!” Sebek jerks backward, face flaming, “Do not call me darling! You—! You infernal—!”

“Cutiepie?” you flutter your lashes, and Sebek’s state only becomes worse.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — lavender lace

"soothing and elegant. soft and gentle."

The package on Ramshackle’s front door makes you pause.

You don’t usually have mail, and you know for certain that you didn’t order anything. The soft purple gives you an idea as to whom it may be from, and so you pick it up (thank the Great Seven it’s a light package, you’re too tired to deal with lugging this and your various textbooks into your dorm) and carry it inside.

Unsure of what’s inside, you set it gently on the couch and throw your jacket next to it. The Octavinelle crest on the corner of the package captures your attention, and right beside it in flowery script the name Azul Ashengrotto is written.

You tilt your head in confusion, snatching it up and shaking it gently. The action does make you feel a bit childish, especially when you hear nothing inside.

Azul wouldn’t send a stink bomb or something, right?

You make your way to the kitchen and take the closest thing you have to a box cutter (a bread knife, unfortunately) and saw the tape off. The top flaps pop open and you waste no time pulling open the next set of flaps, revealing violet wrapping paper. A small, creme colored note sits on top.

Dearest angelfish,

Enclosed in this package is the outfit I expect you to be wearing tonight. Although I am not familiar with two-legged fashion, I believe you will be pleased with my selection. I have also taken the liberty of supplying you with one of those golden seashell necklaces your people adore so much. I’m sure it will look stunning on you.

Best Regards,

Azul Ashengrotto

You feel your face grow warm at his flattery and set the note aside. You gently peel back the tissue paper to reveal the most stunning outfit you’ve ever seen. The light lavender color shimmers like the ocean, and as you lift the beautiful clothing out of its box it unfurls just like the waves. You gape at the seashell details and the seashell necklace nestled at the bottom of the box. For someone with supposedly no knowledge of “two-legged fashion,” Azul Ashengrotto could put together a pretty outfit.

…How does he know your measurements?

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — rusty red

"rusted like metal. hard work in the sun. sunburns, too."

You straighten your spine and breathe out as it cracks, the sunlight pouring over your figure as you rest your weary muscles. You’re not sure what compelled you to head outside with Rook on this hot summer’s day, but you know he needed the assistance. Trey’s too busy preparing for another Unbirthday party to help Rook pick the plants he needs for his newest project, so you just stuck with the job.

Which, ironically enough, is a love potion.

“My darling Trickster, I do so appreciate your help. Your radiant kindness never fails to make my heart stumble in its confines!” Rook swoons, a bundle of pink flowers in his hands.

“Of course. I’m always willing to help you out.” you smile, and Rook flutters his lashes playfully.

“Tell me Trickster.” he coos, bringing the bundle of flowers up to your nose, “What do you see when you smell these blooms?”

You don’t question him, knowing that despite his reputation, he would never do anything to hurt you. You shut your eyes and breathe them in, and the blurry image of Rook appears in your mind. It must be some sort of association trick since he’s the one there with you. 

Opening your eyes, you laugh at his expectant expression. Rook looks so excited, eyes wide and gleaming.

“Well...I saw you.” you say, and Rook squeals loudly.

“Oh, Mon Dieu!” he beams, tossing the flowers aside and taking you into his arms, “My dear Trickster, those flowers are famous in Twisted Wonderland for showing you a vision of what your heart longs for! Oh, you are far too adorable!”

“Rook!” you squawk, clinging to his arms as he nuzzles your cheek.

“Oh, don’t you fret, my sweet, ” he chuckles, the pet name rolling off his tongue like honey, “When I smell those flowers, I see you at your best, beauty and radiant and shimmering with pride, just as you should be. And I see me, by your side.”

You feel your face grow warm, and Rook’s grin turns wicked at your embarrassment.

He really is quite a handful, isn’t he?

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — yellow finch

"playful and bright. spreading your wings to reach freedom."

“Make sure you hold on real tight, okay Prefect? I wouldn’t want ya falling off and banging your pretty little head.”

“Oh, be quiet.” you huff, wrapping your arms tightly around Ruggie’s waist, “I can handle a broom. I don’t need you babying me like this.”

“Are you sure?” he snickers, lifting a bit off the ground, “That big talk doesn’t suit a magicless student like you. I don’t know if you can handle something like this.”

You roll your eyes and jab him in the side. Ruggie yelps, shooting you an unamused glare. You stick your tongue out at him.

If he’s going to be a little shit, then so are you.

“You asked for it.” he sighs, ears flattening against his head, “Hold on tight.”

At least he starts slow, bobbing up and down like a buoy out at sea, swaying side to side like a branch on a windy day. There's a certain calm that comes with him controlling the broom, a calm you could almost mistake for consideration.

(Except Rugie doesn’t do any consideration, especially for free.)

Actually, now that you think about it, why didn’t he bring up pricing? You’d think he would have jumped on the opportunity-

A strong gust of wind smacks you out of your head, and you clutch his waist tighter in an effort to stay on the broom. Ruggie huffs and straightens out the broom’s course effortlessly, shooting you a look of soft concern.

“You doin’ alright back there?” he calls, a light shishishi whispered in the air like an afterthought.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you grumble, annoyed at yourself for being rattled, “You alright with doing this for free?”

Ruggie goes quiet for a few beats before he laughs again, this time louder and freer.

“Aww, you wanna pay me back?” he teases, tilting the broom straight up and flying into the clouds, “We can talk about that next time.”

There’s not going to be a next time at this rate! Screams your mind, but Ruggie’s joyful laughter halts that worry…just for a little while.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — royal purple

"a prestigious shade. a deep, rich color fit for a queen."

vague book five spoilers

There’s a second entry from NRC in the Song and Dance Competition.

Vil stares at the stage with wide eyes as you step onto the gray patterned floors, wearing an elegant piece of formal wear that accentuates all of your beautiful features. You’re alone, a magicless student facing off against groups of singers and dancers that have magic and have been practicing forever and are far more accustomed to these things than you are.

You’ll be singing.

You don’t waste time, you cut to the chase. You grab the microphone presented to you and take a deep breath. You don’t look nervous at all and your voice is calm when you begin, and oh, oh, you can sing really well.

When have you had the time to practice? Vil was under the impression that his spudlings had been running you ragged. And yet here you are, performing in front of people you don’t know, in an environment you don’t know, in a competition you had very little time to prepare for and you’re actually up there.

If Vil feels something akin to pride in his heart he refuses to acknowledge it. Now is not the time to contemplate his emotions, now is for you.

If you keep singing like that, he'll dedicate eternity to you.

Your voice fades out far too quickly and the audience explodes.

“Isn’t that the magicless student?!”

“How did they get accepted into this competition?”

“That was beautiful! Who knew they could sing like that?!”

“Prefect, what the hell! You were secretly talented and didn’t tell us?!”

You wave out at the crowd and blow them a kiss, to which another round of screaming and applause starts up. Rook is tearing up beside him, proclaiming something about beauty that Vil can’t make out.

He rushes away to find somewhere quiet.

Why didn’t you audition for his performance?

Vil breathes in, pushing the thoughts from his mind. He needs to focus on his goal, proving once and for all that he’s better than Neige.

“Mira mira, tell me something. As of this moment, who is the most beautiful of all?” he asks his tablet, furrowing his brow as he stares at the screen.

The air is sucked from his lungs as he receives his answer.

Mira mira says your name.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — neon yellow

"bright and eye catching...also very unique. a little too unique."

dedicated to a friend on quotev, who wanted him to have the "most atrocious pissy neon yellowish green" paint color <3

You’re not quite sure what to make of the bright, multicolored lights surrounding the booth to your right. There are four giant speakers strategically placed in front, projecting the already loud music across the entirety of NRC. You manage to squeeze through the side of the crowd and get a better look at the stage, only for your jaw to absolutely hit the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the blinding multicolored lights swirling around the light messed up your vision somehow, because there’s way Lilia is just casually levitating while slamming on his guitar.

No, no. You shake your head and spare a glance back up at him. No, Lilia would absolutely do that. You know him too well. There’s gotta be strings or something, right? He can’t be serious, since when can he fly?!

“Hey there, firefly!” Lilia calls, waving at you wildly from the stage.

You want to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but you’re too flabbergasted to make out the words. Lilia grins, showing off the fangs he usually doesn’t display, and backflips. You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth and he lands right on one of the lights. It doesn’t break, it holds his weight, and he continues playing like he didn’t just jump on valuable equipment.

Once you’ve calmed down from his stunts and gotten more accustomed to the atmosphere, you find yourself cheering Lilia and his clubmates on. Though you’re not sure how or why they managed to put this thing together, you’re glad they did.

After all, you’ve never heard Lilia scream quite that loud.

“What was that all about?” you ask him, snatching him up the second his show ends and he steps off the stage.

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he grins, feigning innocence.

You roll your eyes and scoff, and Lilia laughs with delight. He really does talk a lot of pleasure in teasing you, doesn’t he?

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — ruby red

"intense and yearning, bold and powerful. confidence. i am who i am."

book four spoilers under cut

“It’s him or me.”

Jamil’s room is silent after he says that sentence, the words are like raindrops on a lake before a hurricane. They ripple in your mind as he stares at you, clearly expecting an answer you aren’t sure you can give. It’s not because you don’t know the answer. You hesitate because of the consequences it will have.

Do you help him overthrow Kalim? Do you help him get revenge? Do you help him break free of his parent’s expectations and the fate he’s been cursed with to live forever in the dark, shrouded by Kalim? Is there a better way?

There’s no time for questions. Jamil isn’t letting you think too hard about this.

He wants your answer now.

“It’ll always be you.” you say, solidifying your fate.

Jamil smiles, wide and scheming. You expect your heart to plummet at the uncharacteristic expression of loathing, but it doesn’t. Your heart does nothing but beat like it’s supposed to.

Like it’s supposed to.

Like you’re supposed to take his side. Like you’re supposed to support him no matter what. Like you’re supposed to be his.

You try not to feel like a possession or a tool. You aren’t.

“I’m glad you made that choice. Truly, you are the only one I can trust.” Jamil pulls away from you, beginning to pace his room.

You watch him move and mumble to himself, forming a plan in that genius mind of his. Part of you wants to try and convince him that it isn’t worth it, that he would be better off if he didn’t try to hurt someone, but you know that’s not the best solution. The other part of you wants him to go for it, wants him to overthrow Kalim because he would be a better Housewarden and Kalim always takes him for granted, but you know that’s not the best solution either.

Is there any way to win this?

“We’re going to win this.” Jamil murmurs, a gleam in his eye that spells trouble.

And the hurricane sweeps through your heart.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — moss green

"muted, soothing, & lovable. slow growing and resilient."

“I’ve got you.” you murmur, running a comb through Trey’s fluffy dark green tragically snarled hair, “Stop squirming. You need to rest.”

“Ah...sorry.” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries his best to sit still for you. Trey had been running himself ragged this week, and nobody but you seemed to have noticed that toll it had taken on his body. It was a shame Riddle didn’t realize exactly how hard Trey worked, or that his Vice Housewarden just so happened to have a “I can’t be taken care of because I have to take care of everyone else” complex.

In the most affectionate way possible, it was really starting to get on your nerves.

“You need to take better care of yourself. I know you’re used to working hard, but this is too much.” you huff, pinching his cheek gently to get your point across, “You haven’t been getting enough sleep and you skipped breakfast this morning to make a grocery run. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?”

“I’m really sorry.” he apologizes again, looking slightly regretful, “I didn’t mean to worry you. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

There he goes again.

“You can rest, damnit.” you sigh, expression softening as you make eye contact with him in the mirror, “I care about you, Trey. Riddle’s a teenager, he can take care of himself. You don’t have to baby him all the time.”

“You’re right.” he shakes his head, taking a deep breath and slumping back in the chair.

You hum softly in acknowledgement and set the comb on the vanity. The soft clink sound serves as a reminder that you’re in his room right now, alone. Before you can think twice about it, you maneuver yourself in front of him and grab his hands. Trey looks at you weird, clearly amused as you lean back and try to yank him out of the chair on your own. He stands up and allows you to pull him over to his bed, where you pat the bedsheet and stare at him expectantly. Trey sits down, hands still clutching yours.

“Now rest.” you whisper, leaning in and pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead, “You deserve it, sweetness.”

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — rose red

"instead of painting the roses red, why not stop to smell them?"

“Is there a particular reason why you invited me out today, Prefect?” Riddle asks, smoothing out the windswept edges of your picnic blanket.

“I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?” you tease, carefully opening the picnic basket beside you, “You’re always working, Riddle. Someone had to steal you away.”

He huffs with red cheeks as the blanket flies up again, and you stifle a laugh. You unpack the sandwiches and carefully cut fruits, courtesy of Trey. Everything he makes looks so delightful and you don’t know if you could ever measure up to his presentation, but you wanted to try your absolute best for Riddle. Speaking of Housewarden Rosehearts, he looks as though he’s on the verge of collaring a natural force with the way he’s fighting the wind for reign of the blanket’s corners.

“Riddle, please sit. It’s okay if the blanket gets a little tussled.” you call out, extending a hand to him in hopes that you can coax him closer, and by extension, convince him to relax.

“Ah.” he flushes, and he seems to realize that he’s been keeping you waiting (which is terribly impolite of him,) “My apologies.”

He sits on the checkered blanket with an all too familiar stiffness about him, and you barely manage to hold back a sigh. He still isn’t relaxing, no matter how much you try to sooth him. Looks like Trey was right when he told you Riddle would likely treat your outing like one of his tea parties. If it were up to you, you’d have the Queen of Hearts’s entire list of rules obliterated for an afternoon.

Thankfully, you didn’t come unprepared for this obstacle. There’s an ace up your sleeve.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not offended.” you shoot him a friendly smile before digging out the thornless rose from the bottom of the picnic basket, “Buuut, if you really want to make it up to me, you can accept this gift.”

You pull the flower out of the basket with flourish, and Riddle’s eyes go wide when he sees it. His mouth begins to open, but you give him no time to respond as you tuck the rose behind his ear. And just like that, his face becomes even redder, and his mouth opens and closes as if the words he wants to say aren’t forming right in that pretty head of his.

A shame, truly. You were looking forward to having conversations with him (but seeing as though he can’t exactly handle talking right now, you suppose you’ll let that slide.)

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — sapphire blue

"the stone of the same name symbolizes power and kindness."

Deuce sits silently, glaring at the floor. He’d lost it again. The blood on his knuckles proves it. He’d seen those people bothering you and he’d failed. He resorted to violence and that did no good because you were right in front of him and he’s pretty sure he scared you and that after you’re done dressing his wounds and lecturing him you’ll leave and never come back and his momma would never get to meet you, the person he cares about almost as much as her-

“Deuce.” you murmur, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

“Yeah?” he says, flinching at how rough his voice sounds.

You don’t seem bothered, only sighing and getting back to bandaging his knuckles.

“Thank you.” you whisper, and Deuce furrows his brow in confusion because he thinks that mean right hook he took to the side of his head must have messed up his hearing.

“Wh...What?” he rasps, tears blurring his vision, “What are you thanking me for? I fucked up. I fucked up again and I’ll never make you or my mom proud and-”

“Hey, hey.” you grab his hands and now he can’t even wipe away his angry tears, “Deuce, who said I wasn’t proud of you? Who told you that?”

“Does it matter who told me what?” he chokes out, hands trembling with fury and self-hatred, “I can’t do shit for you and I can’t make my momma happy! I can’t make you feel safe because I fly off the handle and I can’t succeed in school no matter how hard I try because I’ll never be like Riddle or Trey and I can’t- I just can’t-”

Deuce sobs, the sound so broken and depressing that he hates himself more.

But you don’t hate him.

You pull him into your chest and shush him, holding him so gently. You’re not scared, you’re not afraid, and it's then that Deuce realizes you’re crying too.

“I hate it when you say those things about yourself.” you sniffle, “You’re more precious than you’ll ever know, you make me proud every day, you’re one of the only people I’d even dream of entrusting my safety to because you’re always there when I need you-”

The rest of your words are muffled in his hair, but as Deuce cries into your chest he doesn’t think he needs to hear them.

He knows what you want to say.

[cloudcountry]

NRC'S PAINT CHIP PROJECT! — sweet pea

"the flower of the same name symbolizes friendship, gratitude, a heartfelt goodbyes."

There’s a soft knock on Ramshackle’s front door in the early hours of the morning that has you throwing yourself out of bed and racing down the rickety old stairs. The smile on your face is stubborn, and no matter how many times you try to pull down your cheeks it doesn’t work. You’ll look like a fool in front of him, but you suppose he won’t care. If anything, it’ll make him happier.

You fling open the door with gusto, the blanket wrapped around your body fluttering in the chilly breeze. Jack jumps at your enthusiasm, eyes wide as he hides his hands behind his back.

“Hi.” you whisper, beaming.

“Hey.” he looks away, coughing awkwardly into his fist, “Uh, I heard about…today’s Spirit Week…uh, showing your gratitude…you know?”

You almost roll your eyes at the mention of Crowley’s “NRC Spirit Week, an opportunity for the student body to grow closer together! Oh, how gracious and kind I am for coming up with such an idea!” Somehow you refrain from doing so.

“Yes I diiid.” you tease, leaning towards him, “Didja get me something?”

“Yes, actually.” his ears twitch but his expression doesn’t change (he’s still as stoic as ever), “I…hope it’s not disappointing.”

Jack removes his other hand from behind his back and presents you with a delicate bouquet of sweet peas. You gasp in surprise and then laugh at the slightly crushed stems—he must have done that by accident when you threw the door open.

“Don’t laugh.” he mumbles, “I…grew these myself. I wanted to give you something to show how glad I am that you’re around.”

“Jack…” you accept the flowers, cradling them like they’re the most precious thing in the world, “Thank you.”

He shuffles his feet and looks away, and you barely hold back a giggle at just how small he looks right now. You’ve never really seen him embarrassed like this before, but it’s a welcome change.

A very welcome change.

“Would you like to have breakfast with us?” you say, not willing to let him go back to his dorm just yet, “I promise I’ll make enough to feed you. Grim eats a truckload of food every morning, it’d be a shame if you missed it.”

“Actually, I think I would want to miss Grim.” Jack grumbles, and your heart plummets for a moment before he meets your gaze, “But..I wouldn’t want to miss you.”