#ruth sharpe

[ulrichgebert]

Ein Liebesfilm. Da manche Mädchen einfach nicht von dieser Welt sind, informierte ich mich vorsichtshalber nochmal, wie diese auf Parties korrekt anzusprechen sind. Für Außerirdischen gelten zwar im Prinzip anderere Regeln, welche hier aber keine Verwendung finden, weil die kleinen Punks in Croydon annehmen, so sonderbar wie sie sich benehmen, sind es wohl Amerikaner. Muss als einer der besseren Filme mit Nicole Kidman gewertet werden.

[waltricia]

I never noticed before how fitting this casting was:

(Claudia Jessie and Ruth Gemmell)

Especially considering this:

(Claudia Jessie and Rupert Evans (Edmund Bridgerton))

Also LOL I just noticed this:

(Rupert Evans and Calam Lynch (Theo Sharpe))

I think mayhaps Eloise might have a bit of a complex.

[didanagy]

BRIDGERTON SEASON 2 (2022)

[nofatclips]

All I Know of Love, a film by Emma Ruth Rundle and Geert Braekers

[suzannahnatters]

HEY GUYS I'M COMING TO THE US LET'S MEET UP ~ Book Signing Event!!! ~ WHERE: Barnes & Noble Polaris in Columbus, Ohio WHEN: June 11th from 2-5 PM WITH: RJ Anderson, W.R. Gingell, Rosamund Hodge, and Joanna Ruth Meyer!

Let me just rave about my chums for a minute - - R.J. Anderson, who writes wonderful, old-school YA fantasy about fairies and faith! (Try KNIFE, I couldn't put it down)

- W.R. Gingell, author of beloved Aussie urban fantasy series THE CITY BETWEEN (my fave is BETWEEN WALLS but you have to read the whole thing)

- Rosamund Hodge, author of dark and bittersweet parables of sin, redemption, and stabbing things (if you haven't read CRIMSON BOUND what are you even doing with yourself)

- Joanna Ruth Meyer, author of heartfelt and evocative YA fantasies (INTO THE HEARTLESS WOOD is the cottagecore tree siren story you never knew you needed).

- And ME, your favourite author of ridiculously over-researched historical fantasy!

(- Also possibly a sixth MYSTERY AUTHOR watch this space)

IF you want to purchase books, you can snag a copy of DARK CLOUDS on the day, or if there's a specific title you want, be sure to call B&N Polaris at (614) 854-0339 and ask them to order it in for you.

11 June! Please come! Bring any books you want signed! It will be SO thrilling to meet you!

[kismetmoon]

i just realised i never talked about it before, but here’s Ruth’s full form under her cloak :

[ID: a digital monochrome drawing of an original stylised Flatland character, Ruth, on an off-white background.

Ruth is a humanoid character who has dark grey with light grey patches, a round half-lidded eye with a point on the top and four bottom eyelashes, a rectangular body, thin limbs, a ‘dent’ on the lower half of her body and a short tail.

On the left, Ruth is standing and waving out her left arm while the other is at her side. She is absently staring to the right. There is an arrow in the middle, which leads to the other drawing of Ruth on the right. She is holding her cane in her right hand and looking down to some white bandages covering the dent in her torso.

End ID.]

it’s essentially the flatland equivalent of traumatic lumbar scoliosis. she’s been left with a sort of indentation that pushed back her lower torso and goes in her right side and out her left. because of this, it throws her balance off slightly when walking (and having a shorter tail than usual doesn’t help in this situation), hence she uses a cane when she needs to leave the house for food, errands, etc. the bandages are just to prevent her from scratching the healed scar bc it’s almost always itchy.

[ID: two digital drawings of an original stylised Flatland character, Ruth.

In the first photo, it is a close-up of Ruth’s dent as seen from the side. There is an orange line to highlight the scar left in her torso from the dent. There is orange hand-written text on the left that reads “scar”. The black text on the right reads “side view”. The background is off-white.

In the second photo, it is a black, colourless outline drawing of Ruth. She is looking down towards the scoliosis back brace on her torso, with her arms held up and away from her body. The background is white.

End ID.]

if she had gotten proper treatment she would have had a brace similar to this. however, her mother wasn’t willing to wait long enough for it to heal like this and hated the sight of it, so she lied to Ruth about there being no proper treatment - or even just pain relief help - available for her case.

there’s a more in-depth explanation of what happened to Ruth under the cut, but warnings for murder, assault, accidental murder, child neglect and disownment.

what i’m working with is that Ruth was waiting outside a shop with her mother while her father went inside to get something. an isosceles who came rushing out of the adjacent alleyway (who had just got into a heated argument ending in the other party being shattered) fled the scene so quickly that he ended up running straight into a tween Ruth on his way out of the alley. he was able to catch himself before he got sliced up, but ultimately left Ruth with her ‘dent’ and left himself with a nasty crack that nearly completely ran down the middle of his frame.

he would later on succumb to this injury, leaving Ruth feeling immense guilt for being involved in another’s death (even though it wasn’t ever her fault).

her parents (a square family, with Ruth being their only child) tried to have her lasting depression dealt with and this ‘dent’ straightened out. while it was considered that one of her sides could easily be pushed back in, it was nearly impossible to pull the indented side back out - so they had to leave it for ruth’s ‘survival’. her depression only worsened and she developed extreme isoscelesphobia (it is what you think it is).

it comes up to her 18th birthday and she’s suddenly kicked out of the house five days later as her mother doesn’t want their family name “tarnished with an irregular daughter” that she’d be “ashamed to marry off to a poor soul”. so Ruth is forced to leave, but fortunately her father (who had no say in the disowning, and whose hand was completely forced by his wife’s decision) had bought the small cottage in the woods as her 18th birthday present as a place for her to reside to prevent her from becoming completely homeless. (but this is sad because he was obviously in on the discussion of her getting abandoned and wanted to guarantee her some shelter before she left, so he knew to purchase a house…but he still didn’t warn her about her impending eviction or fight to keep her with the family).

she’s 25 now and has lived there ever since, and Liz moved in with her about six years ago.

[manicpixiedepressedwitch]

some fave looks from the gq man of the year party

[witchvvolf]

[flora-file]

sit a spell

don't mind that giant agave with plans to draw blood

[mungdou]

DANDELIONS

PR. ushijima x reader; semi x reader

W. swears

GR. angst

WC. 2.4k

AN. Oh I live for ushijima angst. Anyways, requests are open as of 06/2024 :)) go ham pookies. Inspired by dandelions by Ruth. B.

(pt. 2)

『Maybe, it's the way you say my name Maybe, it's the way you play your game But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you』

"y/l/n. May I ask you a question?" Ushijima turned around to look at your distant figure, clipboard in hand.

"Mm? What's up Toshi?" You replied, smiling up at the larger man.  

His bulky body blocked most of your vision, but he wasn't clumsy. His voice was deep and commanding, but never once did it demand anything from anyone. He was the gentle giant in your life, but you couldn't help but wish he were your gentle giant.

Of course, you weren't the only one who felt the same for the man, but he had always been oblivious to any advances.

"Why do you not have a second manager to aid your business? I notice you tend to rush around, so for your sake, please recruit another manager." He wiped his sweat-covered neck with a small white towel and took a sip of water before running back out on the court to continue practice, called back by the sharp whistle.

He cares about you.

He didn't stick around for your response, but you made sure that you took up his suggestion.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

During lunch the day after, you posted flyers around the school asking for assistant managers. As expected, the applications came rapidly and your eyes landed on one.

Aoi Nishiyama, second year, experience with managing outdoor youth sports clubs

She was perfect.

Two days later, after her confirmation, you found a girl peeking through the gym doors.

"Hello? Is there something I can help you with?" As you approached her, you noticed that it was Nishiyama. "Oh! Nishiyama-"

"Oh, you can just call me Aoi." She shyly grinned, turning towards you.

"Aoi. I'm so glad you decided to join us! Come with me, I have to give you a tour and- oh! What size are you? I need it for your uniform fitting-" Once again, you were interrupted, but this time by the olive-skinned ace.

"y/l/n. Who is this?" Ushijima looked at the timid girl with interest.

"Oh yes! Toshi this is-"

"Aoi. Aoi Nishimiya, but you can just call me Aoi." She stumbled out, her face flushed red with... embarrassment?

Ushijima greeted her, his hand lingering in the air before he turned away to get back to practice. He almost looked flustered, though someone could have easily missed his changed expression.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

After a month of Aoi working with us on the volleyball team, the team outing took place. It was in a large field, perfect for leisure games and a summer barbecue.

The third years sat in a field, covered in fluffy white dandelions.

"Let's make a wish!" Tendou proposed, leaping onto his lanky legs, and running around to face the rest of the third years before plopping back onto the ground.

"We're too old for this, you dumbass." Semi glared at the redhead.

"I've never partaken in this wishing process. How is it done?" Ushijima furrowed his eyebrows.

You took two dandelions out from the ground and handed one to him. He inspected the hollow stemmed plant, rotating it every so often. His actions were mesmerizing, you didn't want to pull your eyes away.

Tendou plucked his flower out of the ground, smiling, "So! You take the dandelion and you blow it and make your wish, but make sure you don't-"

"My wish is to be in love with someone on the volleyball team." Ushijima bluntly stated before huffing at the delicate flower.

Something about the statement startles you, and your face begins to heat up.

"-say your wish out loud... but anyways... who is it Wakatoshi-kun??" You do like girls, yes?" Tendou peruses, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed.

"Yes."

"Hmmmm... There are only two girls on the team, yes? Aoi-chan and y/n/n-san... Which could it be... WAIT! Everyone everyone, place your bets! Y/N/N-SANNNN you're part of this bet so you can't participate~" Tendou muses, whipping out his phone to take notes.

At this point, your face is beet red, buried in your hands, your eyelids shut closed. Tendou runs around, asking the other 3rd years for their thoughts.

"AND THE BETS HAVE BEEN PLACED!" The guess monster beamed, "Now, state your reasons!!"

"I think it's the way he looks at Aoi. He's always looking in her direction with some kind of determination or something"

That's because you're with her, right?

"Nah~ it's probably y/n, I mean, they've known each other since middle school, and he's super open with her"

Exactly, you've known him for so much longer, it only makes sense.

"No it's totally Aoi, what do you mean y/n?? Do you see how quickly he got along with her?"

He got along with you quickly too, though.

"Guys I'm right here-" You sighed, your face remaining the shade of a cherry. "But continue I guess."

"Aoi." His deep voice resonated in your body, shocking every bone in it. His face lightened as he lightly smiled.

Bouts of cheering, groans, and laughter filled the air, but all you could do was stare at Ushijima and try not to drop your jaw. The thoughts began to rush through your brain, laced with insecurity.

How did she captivate him like that?

What does he like about her?

What does she have that you don't?

You looked down at the fluffy flower in your hand. Its delicate seeds could carry your wish far and wide, but would it even be received?

『'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on everyone that you'll be mine, mine』

It doesn't matter, right? You might as well try, even if it doesn't work.

"Fuuuuu" You exhaled onto the delicate ball.

I want Toshi to realize I'm perfect for him... No no... that's too creepy...

I want Wakatoshi Ushijima to like me.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

That day, he confessed to Aoi. The boys had run around the field looking for the girl, and when they found her, they practically picked her up and transported her to Toshi.

It wasn't hard for him to confess to her, he was straightforward, as usual. She ended up saying that she reciprocated his feelings, and they started dating.

It wasn't too hard to bear in the beginning. They would sit at your table during lunch and chat with the other members of the team, Ushijima would hold her much smaller hand in his callused ones. As they ate, Aoi would lean on his shoulder affectionately.

I wish that were me.

Not long after, you noticed you had become shunned by the others at the table. If you put a word in the conversation, you would either be ignored or spoken over as they continued the conversation. Most of the time, it was Aoi speaking over you. It hurt, admittedly. Your friends. People you had known for years had, for the first time, left you out of a conversation, attracted to the sweet and innocent voice of Aoi Nishimiya. The girl they met only 2 months ago.

Eventually, they forgot you were even there.

This began to creep into your practices and hangouts, all of which Aoi attended. you acted as you did, caring for those there, making jokes, being... yourself.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

About a week later, you were approached by Ushijima, who had an extra serious face. To be honest, he looked almost constipated. His walk had a hesitant swagger to it as he came towards me. Far behind him was Aoi, fiddling her thumbs and looking the other way.

"Y/n."

『'Cause it gets so hard to breathe When you're looking at me, I've never felt so alive and free When you're looking at me, I've never felt so happy』

"Tosh... Ushijima-san" You smiled, the stress washing away. Finally, someone wanted to talk to you, to be in... no... to acknowledge your presence.

"We should– hanging... together. It... Aoi uncomfortable." Ushijima muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" You couldn't believe your ears... Was he saying what you thought he was? "I'm sorry... could you repeat that? I couldn't understand you."

"We should–" He pauses, clearing his throat. "We should stop meeting. It makes Aoi uncomfortable."

Your head jerked up. "What?" You whispered, though your voice seemed to bellow through the silent indoor court, bouncing off the walls. "What... I... Follow me." Your voice lowered and you grabbed his wrist, dragging the ace out of the room.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" You demanded, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

"Excuse me?"

Your face contorted with fury, your hands balled into fists. It took every ounce of your body to hold yourself back.

"Does me being around... make you uncomfortable?" You quivered in anger, looking straight into his unbothered eyes. "Does it?" Your voice was unnaturally cold and it took every ounce of you to not shout

"It-" He began.

"WHY-" Your voice shouted before catching yourself, "Am I that annoying? Is there something I can change? I'll do anything you want me to, just say what's wrong with me, I'll fix it."

A person in love will do anything to be appreciated by the one they adore.

All you want is for him to be happy, but you can't.. no you can't live without him. You can't imagine your life without him, even if it isn't in the way You want it to be.

"You do make me uncomfortable." Five words, and you began to crumble.

"If you'd like to know the truth, you are overly affectionate."

crack.

"You cannot set boundaries, even though you know I am in a relationship."

snap.

"You don't know how to stop being a people pleaser who can't help but say yes."

crack.

"You are nothing but a thorn in my side. You often distract me from playing right and you've created a rift in my romantic life. There is nothing for you to fix because nothing is there to fix. You have always been this way and you will always be this way."

crumble.

Satisfied with his words, he walked back into the enclosed court, greeting his girlfriend standing behind the gray doors. She peered out towards your frozen body, pity and satisfaction lacing her face.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The air in the gym was cold, not a noise to be heard throughout the massive building. They all heard him say that. They all knew it was wrong. You weren't a nuisance to Ushijima, but no one wanted to say anything otherwise to the ace.

"Y/n-" Semi stepped forward, reaching out to try and comfort you, but Leon put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from rushing out. Tendou and Goshiki looked towards the ace trudging back to practice, Aoi running up to him with big eyes and a volleyball in hand to toss for practice.

You couldn't move. you didn't want to move. Semi shrugged off Leon's hand and stepped outside. "Let's go. C'mon." His hand dropped to the small of your back and guided your back out. It felt like all of the blood left your body and all that was left was your dull husk. You walked for a while. You don't know how long it took, but soon you could see the local convenience store in the distance. You plopped down on a brick fence and fat, warm, tears began to fall. You guessed the initial shock wore off, but the tears wouldn't stop, and soon your eyes were blurry with tears.

After a while, a blue fuzzy object appeared. You blinked away the salty tears, drying them with your sleeves, and saw a soda ice pop on your lap. "Here. Sweets help the tears." Semi gently said, smiling at you. In his hands, he had an unopened pack of tissues.

"You must think I'm pathetic. Hah, everyone probably thinks that at this point, ooh what's y/n without Ushiwaka, she's his dog." You waved your hands around, mocking god knows what. You looked down and opened the packaging. "Why are you here anyway? Don't you have practice? Coach Washijo's gonna yell at you again. Anyways... Thanks for the pop... you didn't have t-"

"I wanted to be here. And it's not like I'm that important to the team, after all, we have Shirabu now for setting. I'll probably get yelled at a bit, but it's worth it. I'd rather you be with someone than alone." Semi blurted, he was trying his best.

You giggled, snorting before catching yourself. Semi looked reassured by that. "Mmm... it feels nice that someone's still on my side." You sat there in silence for a while, and soon your pops were down to the stick and the sun had set.

"You got a free pop." Semi pointed out, before grabbing the stick and walking into the store to redeem it. You can't understand why he's here, He could literally be anywhere else, so why here of all places?

"Y'know, she's not all that." He spoke, walking out and gesturing with you to walk with him. "But anyways, you should talk about it. At least let out how you feel, if you're comfortable, that is. It's better than bottling it up."

You looked down, not sure what to say. "I mean, I don't think that he's the kind of person to throw away a friendship for a relationship this early- or even ever. But I don't want to fight it, he can figure it out by himself." I ran a few feet ahead before whipping around to face Semi. I gestured to myself and bounced on the balls of my feet, "All I can say is that he's gonna be missing out on the joy I bring to the table." Semi paused, then doubled over laughing.

"You certainly have a way of getting over heartbreak." He walked up to you, hooking your arm in his. You smiled softly, leaning your head on his arm and holding his arm tightly as you walked back to the gym.

"Thank you, Semi-Semi." You murmured into his sleeve.

"You're welcome y/n... never tell Tendou I let you call me that" He smiled and looked down at the top of your head.

"No promises." You looked up, matching his serene expression. "Can't wait for the lecture we're gonna get in about 5 minutes."

Semi froze. "Shit."

AN: lmk if you want a pt. 2 :)

masterlist || request

[m-musings]

Headcanons: TF2 Mercs + Dumb Pickup Lines

Word Count:268 Warnings/ Other Notes: just spoutin' bullshit here, pre-established relationships, just fluff obvi

Scout:

"Are you Babe Ruth? Because you're knocking me outta the park!"

"Scout, that was the dumbest thing i've ever heard."

"Why are ya blushin' then?"

"... shut up..."

"Love you too, doll!"

Soldier:

"You must be a rocket because you're blowing me away!"

"Did Sniper make you say that?"

"No! Demo did!"

"Oh, well that's very sweet of you either way!"

Spy:

"Is your name Bond because you've got a license to thrill!~"

"Very cute, mon ange, but I am a much better agent than that hack."

"Well damn, that's the last time I try to be romantic."

Engineer:

"Are you a gear because you've got all my wheels turnin'!"

"Wait, that's actually so cute!"

"'Course it is, darlin', it's about you!"

Medic:

"Are you a surgeon because you've taken my heart!"

"Alright, Who did you dissect this time?!"

"Nobody!... At least- uh, not yet..."

Demoman:

"Are ya a sword because ya look sharp!"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Yeah and I've got a glass righ' here for ya! Wanna join me?~"

Heavy:

"Are you a sandvich because I want to eat you up! Is a good one, no?"

"You have to spend less time with Scout, honey..."

"Awww, but I thought line was clever!"

Sniper:

"I must be a rifle, 'cause my sights are set on you."

"Feeling love-y today, are we?"

"What can I say, darling? I'm a romantic at heart."

Pyro:

"Murr hurr mmh huddah? 'Crpyha mhph srphha hrt!" (Are you a fire? 'Cause you're smoking hot!)

"Thank you, but, you're not actually gonna set me on fire, are you?"

"Nrht hrrdsh erh phrnt mur drh!" (Not unless you want me to!)

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

 He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see. 

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him. 

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’ 

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily. 

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys. 

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor. 

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear. 

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for. 

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….” 

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?��

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.” 

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?” 

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else. 

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin. 

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open. 

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said. 

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there. 

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in. 

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit. 

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you. 

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you. 

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed. 

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it? 

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked. 

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama? 

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.” 

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.” 

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it? 

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home. 

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.” 

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew. 

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.” 

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.” 

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge. 

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.”  Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life. 

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language. 

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again. 

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you. 

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill. 

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening. 

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure. 

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would. 

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running. 

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them. 

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought. 

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation. 

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing. 

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.” 

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one. 

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers. 

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box. 

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there. 

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week. 

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare? 

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still. 

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming. 

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did. 

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, ���Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core. 

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up. 

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time. 

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows. 

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night. 

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up. 

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps.  “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling. 

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[fairyk133]

Ruth Beautè

Minor facts:

Has a southern dolly accent, so American and sweet voice. (Voice Claim: Cherry Valance from The Outsiders.)

Has an animalistic view on students.

Knows how use a gun. (At the age of 9.) She keeps pistol with her in her workbag when she’s out, for protection.

She was illegally emancipated, her mom and her went their separate ways when she came back from catholic school

She was homeless for two days until she met an old Italian man and took her in, making him a father figure onto her, but he died due to “loan sharks”, which was on her birthday, she owned the house all to herself ,and redecorated the whole house.

Her biggest secret was she was the daughter of the famous French Somalian actress Vivian Beau.

She is neurodivergent, and showed signs of Autism while growing up.

Loves 60s fashion, adores it, she is one of the most fashionable girls at school, even if her uniform does scream.. “50s church gal.”

She knows French, Spanish and the Somali language.

While Lola is called the Queen, and Pinky is called the Princess, Ruth is labeled the Duchess of Bullworth.

She plays electric guitar, Cello, Violin, Piano

The large rosary she wear is ACTUALLY disguised as a dagger, if you take off the silver cap of the bottom of the cross, and swing it, a sharp blade will come out. It was gifted from her past lover who died.

She calls people by their last names, which gives her a look of maturity and authority

When she’s harming a person (who deserves it) she gets violently annoyed when they start crying, she believes in equal punishment.

She works at a fancy restaurant in Old Bullworth Vale and gets tips either from lonely, weird divorced men or because she plays the violin well. The people who go to the restaurant are from rich families.

Works at Aquaberry Outlet too sometimes.(Lowkey was thinking about leaving because some young girls said she looked like “Vivian Beau”)

Knows Sign language thanks to her past lover. (Yes he was deaf.)

School Titles:

“Class Representative”, — Non Cliques/ People who respect or scared of her

“Villainess Nun”—Lola, Earnest

“Miss Beauty”— Jason (My Oc), Juri, Chad

“Babe Ruth”—Vance

“Doe eyes”— Vance, Gord

“Sociopathic Bitch”— Mandy, (Pre game) Gary, Earnest, Davis White

Mini Mrs.Peabody—(Pre game) Gary

Clique relationships:

Bullies: Ruth does like not bullying, at all. Considering her past lover died by suicide, because of bullying, she is a shadow dictator of the school. But, nonetheless she does use the bullies in her rule of authority. She pays them about 80 dollars to 50 in cash, to spill her the details on other students, specifically males, and to beat up perverts or anyone trying to roof girls drinks in parties. Most bullies are scared of her, but she does allow them to beat up Earnest, when she sees them attack him she turns a blind eye to it, considered later one she found out his…rather perverse picture of Mandy. (She may hate Mandy’s guts, but she’s a girls girl at heart.) Later on after her public trial with her mom, she ends up dating Tom. They actually first met bumping into one another, they had a goofy conversation, him mess in up on her last name, she liked him, but Joetta said she liked him so she killed her feelings for him immediately, only for it to fail and they end up being together.

Nerds: They see her as their, savior, at least some of them. She once saw Algie crying in a corner when she was coming from Chemistry class, and he complained to her about the jocks and their vile behavior towards him. This gave Ruth the idea for the Halloween party. She dressed up as Billy Loomis from Ghostface and seduced Casey Harris into the woods, leaving him there for awhile. Casey ended up seeing Algie’s fake dead body lying there, flies around him. It looked bloody, his stomach was cut open, which looked like the work of an axe. (Ruth gave Algie some sick looking makeup and a clay belly, and filled it with pig intestines to make it look like it was his actual organs, she even gave him some white contacts to give him that dead look). Ruth came out of the woods dressed up as the actual Ghost face, holding an axe. Before taking her mask off and yelling at him like a cinematic sociopath (she’s a good actor to be honest), he fell into a ditch, a deep one. Algie got up and revealed with Ruth to Casey he wasn’t dead, they saw his body in the ditch and left him there. (Casey also took spiked punch, so later that day, he couldn’t prove that Ruth’s a sadistic bitch.) She doesn’t like Earnest, not only he is weak, scaly, and a hypocrite, but mostly because of what he did to Mandy. Some of the nerds did want to turn on to her because she joined the soccer team and she looked more…”jockey” but she had to remind them of who she stood by, even if Earnest tried to make her seem like an villain of their midst. She uses the Nerds coding abilities to get into the teachers digital files and keeps an eye on her enemies grades and social media, along with their…dark pasts. Really dark. Some nerds even have crushes on her, so easy on her part.

Jocks: Due to their actions, Ruth sees them as, brainless animals. The weak ants to her. But, Mandy Wiles was an huge problem to her. Mandy was jealous of Ruth to most extent. Ruth has beauty, hell, her last name literally means beautiful, she’s smart in academics, getting complements from the Head, and the teachers. Mandy did try to befriend Ruth, but once she had showed her true colors by purposely tripping Bucky at lunch, Ruth immediately told her to stay the hell away from her. Mandy also made fun of Ruth for being a “virgin purist girl”(Internalized misogyny), so Ruth felt annoyed, so she exposed the fact Mandy had been with Jason….which wasn’t good to explain to Jason in the nurses office. And because Mr. Burton is weird and didn’t give a damn about Ruth’s feelings of being uncomfortable, Ruth’s soccer shorts were tight on her, showing her hips were more… wider than most girls and Ruth is a mostly modest person— so obviously this didn’t turn out so well. Wiles gave Ruth the nickname, “Ruth Bootay”. And because Ruth had a “purity” complex this gave her a deep state of discomfort and depression in how her body looks, even the male jocks talk about her body, which made her feel like a hoe, a harlot. When she almost catched herself about to almost cry like a loser, she realized she can ruin Mandy’s life by tormenting her back, you know— the norm? This was by telling girls what Mandy has said about them, isolating people she found close to her, ruining her skin products, by sneaking in her dorm, pouring dirt in there, maybe some cooking oil in that mix. She even got help from her best friend Joetta, to write nasty articles on her, calling her whore, making her worse than Lola. Ruth would also tell on her vaguely to Mrs. Peabody, claiming she was mentally ill. (Guys this is Bullworth, okay?) but sooner or later, they got their issues worked out when the Headmaster assigned them together to get their act together. Bo Jackson is the only chill guy she can stand, a few jocks stopped talking about her body when they knew who serious she was in soccer, along side Jason. (Soccer ain’t even her passion.)

Preps: Ruth gets respect from them because she handles her situations well in mock trial, she even won against Derby in many trials, which eventually leads Derby feeling concerned of his title of being a Harrington, “they never lose”, this leads him to buy a win from the holder of that club, Mr. Hatwick, this makes Ruth have an internal hatred for him. He reminds her of “Donna” a girl from her past in catholic school, she’s also the reason why Ruth was ashamed to be rich in the first place. Due to superiority complexes , Ruth and Derby weren’t the best at being civil with one another. Each room they were in gave tension, you’d need a chainsaw to cut that tension. Chad and Gord along with Parker had admitted into finding her attractive, but the guys do find her “scary” especially since she had made witnesses cry and have emotional reactions. Pinky and her had minor tension because of all the good things people said about her, saying stuff like, “she’s not even that special”, but they became decent friends since Ruth also shops at Aquaberry from time to time and works there, and gave her good advice on clothes. Parker did ended up dating her and that’s when Pinky and her both ended up getting closer as friends. Ruth has been invited to Harrington house parties, sometimes came over for club discussions, mostly to see Parker when they were together, and she wouldn’t mind playing the piano for them. Ruth in my roleplay saved Derby from Raymond Chester, a politician’s son, who was trying to get Derby’s Harrington name ruined, including his family, Ruth exposed them in a special event she was invited to, which made her and Derby be…somewhat decent.

Townies: She barely knew them, but she began to know a few of them, when she saw Jason hanging out with them, that’s when she knew about Jason a little more…the townies only become a serious topic when Ruth got fully and properly adopted by a sheriff, she asked them for clues and ask them what happened on things, since her present self is in her “riverdale” era and helps her foster moms cases.

Greasers: Ruth at first they were just some Outsider/Grease wannabes, but couldn’t be hypocritical since she dresses like she’s from the 50-60s, she was sadly forced by the head to tutor most of them. She believes the most attractive greaser of them all isn’t really Johnny Vincent, but more so Ricky. But she doesn’t have a crush on him, just thinks that way. She and Vance get along fine, he’s helps her with guy troubles, and when I mean “guy” troubles, more so on Jason because of the fights they have on his…living situation. Vance and her poke fun at Ricky and Johnny sometimes, they act like annoying siblings to them sometimes. She ignores Lola and Johnny’s problems because their relationship isn’t worth any fixing or respect they don’t really intimidated her. Her rep is somewhat debatable with them, she doesn’t snitch on them if she sees one of them egging Harrington house. And since she has the preps moral respect with preps, the greasers between trusting her and seeing her as one of them, but soon they realize this girl really doesn’t give a damn, even when she got adopted by Miss Rodriguez. They trust her.

Outfit models:

Based off of/ Mentality:

Beth Harmon - Queens Gambit

Cherry Valance- The Outsiders

Blair Waldorf- Gossip Girl

[solanasreality]

†⠀⠀ㅤֺ⠀ INTRO 2 DESIRED REALITY : FOLK OF THE AIR .

﹒RIN ROSEMARIE RUTH — the youngest (foster) daughter of madoc is a human born amidst the enchanting land of the fae. despite her mortal origins, she has grown accustomed to the intricate politics and dangers of Faerie, where beauty often masks treachery as easily as a smile conceals fangs, and a single misstep can feel like slipping into quicksand.

﹒physical characteristics — a girl of striking beauty, though not in the delicate, crystalline beauty of the fae. her polished brown skin glows with a warmth that seems almost defiant, while wild, dark curls frame a heart-shaped face dusted with freckles. expressive eyes—deep pools of amber that hold secrets far beyond her years, seem to hold a captivating touch of mystery that draw the fae, somewhat daringly, closer. to mock or to adore? the answer isn’t always certain.

﹒her beauty is her weapon, her intelligence her armor. but beneath it all, a quiet ambition stirs— an unspoken longing for more than survival. she seeks something greater, something only the fae may never understand, and yet, none can resist the pull of what she offers.

── LIFE IN FAERIE .

﹒my mornings are usually a blur of routine— rising early, before the rest of the court has stirred, when the last traces of moonlight still lingers in the corner of my room to prepare for the day ahead. the fae are creatures of the night, only beginning to wake when the sun is low and the world seems coated in twilight. i’ve learned to dress quickly, the silks and leathers slipping over my skin without the hestitation of someone unused to the finer things. the fae, with all of their beauty, never tire from their endless grooming rituals, their vanity. the mirrors in the halls have caught me too often doing things out of my leisure, but today, it doesn’t seem like they would. i take my tray and swiftly make my way to the courts, where i can watch the twilight while eating.

﹒my breakfast is simple, though far from humble. a collection of impossible foods—exotic foods that don’t exist outside this world, pastries too perfect to touch, and drinks that could be sweet or bitter depending on how the wind blows. the tray i carry is laden with delicate pasteries, glistening with honey and dusted with powdered sugar, golden crusts soft to the touch and, surprisingly, lukewarm. there are bowls of fruit too—vibrant pomegranates and blood oranges. a sharp, fragrant tea steams beside it, the scent a strange blend of jasmine and something earthier, something ancient that lingers in the air long after the first sip.

﹒the fae court, though still sleepy, is never entirely still. as i sit, i can hear the rustling of distant chatter, the rustling of silks, the occasional click of a glass, as if they too are awaking, albeit slowly. it’s still quiet but there is an undercurrent of anticipation—a silent countdown for when the true business of the night begins. for now, i am at peace, watching the twilight stretch across the gardens outside.

﹒ the hours slip by as the court’s rhythm comes to life—slow at first, then gradually, like the slow unfurling of a flower. the fae are always meticulous in their rituals—visits to the mirror, exchanges of honeyed words, preparing for the coming hours. i’ve learned to ignore the whispers that follow me, the glances cast from behind half-hidden eyes. they don’t speak to me much, but they watch. their attention is a heavy thing. as the day—or rather, the night—progresses, i find myself moving from one gathering to the next, slipping through conversations, trailing my fingers along the stone walls that hum with secrets of their own. each word that passes through these halls could be a thread leading to something more—something darker, something useful.

﹒ by the time the ball begins, the court is alive with color and music. the grand hall opens, and with it, a river of guests pour in, their laughter like an eerie melody echoing off the walls. masks are donned, as is customary for the fae, and the atmosphere shifts into something tangible—a moment of stillness before the storm of social maneuvers begins. the music plays softly, rising in waves of lilting, haunting notes, as the fae drift into a slow waltz across the marble floors. there is always a certain grace in their movements, their bodies so fluid they seem to glide, floating more than walking. the masks they wear are carefully chosen, not just for beauty but for power—a symbol of what they wish to be seen as, a façade to hide their true selves.

﹒ i, too, put on a mask, though mine is less literal. my gown is a study in black lace and silver thread, catching the light of the chandeliers just enough to draw attention but not enough to linger. i slip through the crowd, unnoticed at first, moving like a shadow among shadows, listening more than speaking. conversations float past me like fleeting moments, and i am careful with my own words. each exchange is a delicate dance, and i never step too far. i let the music pull me deeper into the rhythm of the court, where the secrets are traded in the space between glances and soft words.

…

── MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER .

﹒JUDE GREENBRIAR — the youngest daughter of eldred greenbriar, jude is a fae born of bloodline and power. growing up in the shadow of tragedy and neglect, she hides a ruthless ambition behind a polished, cruel exterior. often overlooked by the court, jude is patient, calculating, and unshakably determined to seize the power she believes is hers to claim.

﹒physical characteristics — striking, though not in the ethereal, untouchable way of most fae. her beauty is sharp, almost dangerous, with high cheekbones and strong, soft features that give her an air of authority, even when she’s lounging in apparent indifference. her dark hair falls in waves, often loosely braided or left to cascade over her shoulders, framing her piercing golden eyes—the kind that seem to catch and hold the light like molten metal.

TROPES ✹ rin & jude — enemies to lovers, in COMPLETE denial, royalty meets warrior, oblivious to love, forbidden love

(yes, i made jude take cardan’s place in the book cause i needed a wlw romance okay)

[suzannahnatters]

Hello! I am a big fan of your books (especially Miss Sharp and Miss Dark), and I'm SUPER excited for the upcoming book signing. On that topic, I have a question. I know that, for at least some of the authors, we can't buy books day-of; we have to preorder or special order them. Is that true for all the authors? Or will some of y'all have books available to buy the day of the event? And, if there is a difference, do you happen to know who will have books available for day-of purchase and who won't? (I know W.R. Gingell has said she won't, but I'm uncertain about you and the other authors.)

(Oh, and a side note — this event is what convinced me to finally read Echo North, and it is SO GOOD, so THANK YOU.)

Thank you for your help! <3

Hey!!! I'm so excited you'll be coming! And so thrilled you're enjoying ECHO NORTH! So, for the 11 June book signing in Columbus, OH (details here) the Polaris Fashion Center B&N will be stocking one title per author EXCEPT for W.R. Gingell. The titles are: RJ Anderson: SWIFT Rosamund Hodge: CRUEL BEAUTY Joanna Ruth Meyer: INTO THE HEARTLESS WOOD Suzannah Rowntree: DARK CLOUDS IF you would like to buy other titles by any of these authors (we all have lots available!) OR any of WR Gingell's books, then please do call the B&N on (614) 854-0339 to order the books in! That way you can pick up your order on the day AND get it signed =)

[lambilegs]

Sucking Lee’s dick under the table while she is talking to her mom (porn plot but still hot)

sucking lee off when she's on the phone 🤭

♥︎ note to anon: this request is SO hot thank you so much!! also I just changed the character lee is talking to from ruth to carter just bc that felt more realistic to what lee would be okay with, as well as just more personally comfy for me!! but yes obsessed w the whole phone-call-under-the-desk thing, so so good <33 ♥︎ contains: g!p lee, blowjobs, reader's body parts aren't mentioned, semi-exhibitionism

"yes, I, uh -- I got the file, carter."

you nearly giggle on her small stumble, pausing to let her gather thoughts before continuing to nuzzle the heavy length of her, peppering small kisses along the smooth length of her.

your poor girlfriend had been severely overworked this past week, coming home late into the evening, her eyes weary and the skin under them dusky and dark. you know she loves her work, and wouldn't trade it for anything, but you can't help but ache at the sight of her so worn out and stressed.

things have finally started easing up by friday, lee arriving home at a semi-decent time and actually being able to share dinner with you. but, right after, carter had her called up and at her desk again, looking over details of different files. after watching her from afar with a slight frown, you had slithered up to her from behind, pressing your hands into her strong shoulders and beginning to use the pressure of your fingers to rub small circles.

sensitive thing she is, she immediately loosened and relaxed under your touch, eyes fluttering shut from your ministrations. her head lolled back, small hums leaving her lips as she answered carter's questions. at the sight of her neck being exposed, you combed it back, leaning down to kiss at her neck, igniting a small gasp from her. you knew it was risky, but you couldn't resist. and lee must've been pent up too, considering her weak protests diminished in a matter of seconds. and just minutes later, you were giggling at the tent under her grey sweats.

which led you to where you were now. under her desk, mouthing sloppily at her dick. fuck, you had missed this so much. tasting the creamy tanginess of her precum, feeling the swelling of her head as she gets all deliciously pink and stiff. you pressed your lips around her from the side, sliding them up and down her entire length, a motion that has her gripping tightly on your head, her hips bucking up.

"what... what did you say, carter?" she weakly asks from above you, her words ending with a sharp intake of breath when you stat fondling her balls, pressing your fingers into the soft weight of them, nearly moaning yourself at thinking of how come-filled they are.

"yeah, I uh -- ah, yeah, I got it."

you start swirling your tongue around the tip, lips snug around her, your hand wrapped around the base of her cock, stroking languidly. her mouth falls open, head tipping back as she squeezes her eyes shut. you need to brace an arm against her stomach, pushing her hips down so she's not thrusting too deep against your throat.

her teeth grit in clear irritation as carter's voice continues rattling on the other end. "yes, sir. yes, I, ah, I got it. yes, I'm okay." her voice is flat as usual, but all the micro-twitches of her face show the mix of arousal and annoyance she's feeling.

she nods once more, firm and lips clamped. "mm, okay. goodnight."

when she hangs up, a low moan immediately flies from her mouth, fingers tightly pulling you on your hair. her hips start pounding into your mouth, slick and coated in juices and saliva as it drags against your lips. her tongue rolls against the insides of her mouth, a little drop of drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. her eyes crinkle from how tightly they're latched closed, and small, little whines and cries spill from her pretty, pink lips.

"it's good, like that," she quietly gasps.

you hum around her with a self-satisfied smile, bobbing your head and sucking her harder and faster, relentlessly toying with her heavy, swollen balls. and the vibrations of it seem to do that for her, her nails digging into your head as she cries out, her warm come shooting into the pit of your mouth, painting your tongue sticky and wet. a long groan rumbles in your throat from the feeling of it, eyes shutting as you swallow down every drop, relishing in all the little twitches of her in your mouth.

when you pop her out of your mouth, your lips creamy with her seed, her chest heaves as she breathes deeply. her hand brushes against your face, thumb stroking the corner of your mouth. "you're, uh, you're insatiable." the words tremble as she says them, her eyes wide and burning.

you plant one last delicate kiss to the tip, delighting in the way she hisses. "you love it."

"I do," she immediately responds, her entire body (and mind, it seems) pliant and utterly relaxed. "can we, um... can we do more now?"

you laugh, crawling out of the desk, lee cupping your head to avoid any blows to it as it grazes past the edge. when you land on her lap, you whisper, "mhm, of course."

"but, maybe not during phone calls," she dryly says, tilting her head closer. "I don't think I can take the embarrassment."

"fine, fine," you whisper, pressing kisses to her nose. "only during conversations where someone is in the room, then."

she snickers, laugh lines sweetly deepening. "yeah, that's wishful thinking."