#sharing a scarf my beloved...

[artisadie]

i am here once again to put gay people on your screen before the year ends

[definitelynotleon]

Peasants, both of you. Match made in heaven. Or hell. Hahaha

i'm just confused now

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’m often fascinated watching people eat. It’s a personal thing and many friends have been like, “Hey stop it,” because I scarfed my food and then watched them finish eating with rapt attention.

Some people are impossibly gross eaters. Horrible lip smacking and open mouthed chewing. In those cases I politely look anywhere else. In general though watching people eat is interesting if they’re not bothered.

One thing I noticed pretty instantly about my beloved when we first started dating was the care and precision with which they eat.

Every bite is carefully controlled and tidy. If they’re having sauce, they will scrape and contain it to their fork and after meals I’ll usually have some food debris of bits too small to bother with and my beloved with happily envelope my plate into their field of spotlessness.

They’re out having dinner with a coworker tonight.

Apparently it is agony to share dips and spreads with me because I couldn’t be that regimented if I tried and I’d rather just eat than try to keep a perfect neat line.

[madwomansapologist]

SOMEONE TO KISS YOU GOODNIGHT | CHILDE

synopsis ; childe can’t accept a reality in which you have needs he isn’t the one fulfilling. so he fulfills them.

tags ; extremely dark content, dead dove do not eat, mother-son incest, major age-gap (20 years), mentioned domestic abuse, explicit sexual content ft. noncon, nipple play, oral sex (reader recieving), and overall childe being creepy and insane.

warnings ; 3.4K (???), reader's husband is pretty much the villain here, that's me trying to get back to writing after a hard time so please don't jugde the writing that much, and again dead dove do not eat.

tagging ; my beloved @madaqueue

Warmth is priceless in Snezhnaya—as are all the things no one sells. Ceaseless as her blizzards, Tsaritsa’s domain stretches into a gelid eternity. It’s easy to get used to it. There’s no space for summer nostalgia in a land of everlasting winter.

Childe used to think Tsaritsa was courteous in allowing his bedroom to be free of her presence. He can see it now. How you, his mom, paid the price for his warmth. Your fingers used to be gelid back then, stroking his hair as you put an end to his nightmares.

His nightmares started around the time coldness invaded more of his house. Unending staircases paired with screamed complaints echoing down through the hallway. Snakes crawled after him when the first bottle of rum shattered on the kitchen wall. Childe can’t remember what he dreamed of the day he discovered you had blood inside your body.

(Childe does remember you cleaning his nose with your sleeves, telling him to keep it a secret when you placed an expensive chocolate from Natlan on his hand. He shared it with you.

Childe remembers waking up to you still there. Tracing back, that’s the night he started growing up. No longer able to continue as a foolish boy, Childe locked the door and stared at the ugly cut on your upper lip. He kissed it better.

It didn’t work back then.)

Childe bleed for the first time not long after. Disciple of a woman as cold as his archon, Childe discovered the depths of his strength in the Abyss. A sting of iron followed his every step, immaculate skin collecting victories. There’s something addicting about taking down beasts larger than life.

His rage made him survive. His rage granted him a vision. His rage showed how much better he was from the beasts hidden within the entrails of the world. For months, Childe was a warrior no one could compete with.

Three months in three days. Childe came back home unlike himself.

All you did was wash the blood from his hair. He had no nightmares anymore, the monsters in his dreams nothing but competitors for him to defeat. His prize, forever warm and soft. What a busy mom he had, praising him in his dreams and hugging him on his bed. He wasn’t your little boy anymore, it didn’t stop you from staying there to make sure he wouldn’t disappear again during the night.

For a while, things got better. The years after his transformation were good. He would read stories out loud to put his siblings to sleep and watch in silence as you kissed their foreheads. Childe started waking up earlier than you, cooking breakfast and checking what the blizzard damaged during the night. He would kiss your cheek and walk the kids to school.

You saw the blood on his clothes, noticed the healing scratches when Childe lifted his sleeves to cook. His mom wasn’t known for recognizing danger unless it was right under her nose. You wouldn’t had married that thing disguised as man if you were better at that.

It surprised Childe that you hadn’t ignored those signs. It surprised him even more when you actually mentioned his behavior. The way you did it.

“Ajax”, you said his name slowly. You never say it lightly. Washing his scarf, hands sensitive from the cold water and blood, you looked into his eyes. “Is it my fault? Did you took your father’s violence because there wasn’t anything better you could take from me?”

His throat throbbed. For a second, Ajax was a boy again. He is his arrogance and hostility and desire for what shouldn’t be his, but Ajax is still that weak boy crying because his mom was in pain. He’s still there, kissing your swollen eye just to discover his kisses aren’t magical like yours.

Ajax cried instead of killing the bastard who made his mom suffer. He defeated beasts with ease. Why hadn’t he act before? What stopped Ajax from freeing you from torment? He killed when he had to. He could’ve started sooner.

“You’re not to blame, ma.” Ajax swallowed a sob. He took the scarf from your hands, drying your skin with his thick coat. A Fatui stands before you, cheeks rosy. “I could never take anything from you. I want you whole, just as you are.”

You rolled your eyes, red earring reflecting moonlight into Ajax’s half of the pair.

Things were good. His bloodlust was welcomed by his duties as a Fatui. His siblings didn’t knew what it felt like to be awaken by cold hands. Those gelid years belong in the past now, unable to hurt them. Then his father started drinking again.

Dinner served, Tonia slept before it due to a fever. Teucer was too young to be trusted with glass, playing with his food on the bowl more than chewing on it. He dropped it on the floor, you and Anthon laughed at his pout. His father let go of the bottle and reached for your arm.

Childe impaled his hand with a dull knife before it could touch you. Eyes widened, you grabbed Teucer in your arms and covered Anthon’s eyes as you pulled him towards his bedroom. Another surprise. It barely took you a second to react.

How could someone not indulge in such a dependable wife? How can there be a man unable of loving you the way you deserve it? Childe can’t understand that.

He found you drying Tonia’s sweaty forehead. Does your selflessness come from being a mom? Or are you a mom only because of how selfless you are? He wonders how you would be if he wasn’t born. If you could rewrite those twenty years of your life, where would you be? Would Childe be there, too?

As whenever the thought comes to haunt him, Childe decided to ignore it.

“You should eat, ma”, Ajax knocked on the open door. Legs visibly shaking, you sat on the armchair and accepted the plate he made for you. He took care of Tonia in your place. “I was careful. It’s not even bleeding anymore. It’ll only hurt so don’t worry.”

You took a bite of the meat he cooked. The red sauce made you flinch. Ajax swallowed thickly at your silence. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Don’t mind me”, you sighed. “I’m nothing but a tired woman sulking on her regrets.”

Ajax tasted iron on his tongue. “What do you regret?”

“Not getting divorced”, you confessed too easily. He spotted an empty wine bottle under Tonia’s bed—your truth fuel. “I thought you’d hate me and grown into a resentful man. What a waste. If I knew it would happen either way than I would’ve rather dealing with it back in Liyue.”

Ajax choked on his tears. Kneeled in front of you, words failed him. He hugged your thighs, staining your pants with blood. “M-ama I never… I don’t hate you. I swear. Don’t hate me, ma. I’m still your boy. Don’t regret me, mama.”

“Ajax, I don’t regret you”, you didn’t hesitate. Stroking his hair, another hand rubbed circles on his back. “Didn’t when you were my darling boy and I won’t now that you’re a Harbinger. My son will always be loved by his mom, get it?”

“Do you resent me?” Ajax whispered. It was all he could do. “Tell me the truth.”

“There’s nothing you can do to change how I felt when you returned to me all those years ago”, you said. Holding his chin, you made Ajax look up and cleaned the warm traces of tears on his face. “Never do that again.”

Ajax wasn’t sure of what you meant. He nodded either way.

It wasn’t always like that. His father used to be a good person before becoming a cruel one. A man made of awful jokes and badly phrased analogies. He used to make you laugh. That’s what kept Childe from taking responsibility.

At his burial, staring at his closed eyelids, Childe wondered about his reasons for the first time in his life. How does a man hit his wife but only give their kids the best he could? How did he taught justice and compassion without burning in shame? Thinking about it for too long left a bitter taste on his mouth.

Childe held his siblings close on the way back home. Teucer was too young to understand death. The night before, Anthon confided to him that he was mostly pretending to be sad. He was ashamed for not being able to cry without you there to see it. Tonia only sighed when she heard the news.

His siblings share the same opinion, each on their own way. A good father that isn’t a good man can’t be truly loved. You think so, too. You regret not divorcing him. It wouldn’t have taken that many years for Childe to deal with the problem if he knew that sooner.

A man stinking of rum shouldn’t hope to wander his way back home during a Snezhnayan blizzard. Not in a land where the wind isn’t freedom but palpable danger. Not when knowing his murderous son is back at home and resenting him more at each passing moment. Not after his wife drunkenly wished to be single again.

An unfortunate yet predictable accident. That would be easier for the kids to deal with and your heart is fragile enough as it is. Childe baked a cake that night. Meringue and all. He sat on his father’s seat, right beside you, and served every kid.

His father should’ve seen it coming.

Childe assumed the duty of caring for his family’s comfort and safety. His money was put to good use. There weren’t any needs inside his family’s home, only welcomed desires quickly to be fulfilled. Fabrics from Sumeru, dishes from Inazuma, Liyue’s ancient books. The more expensive the wish, the happier Childe was to grant it.

Dealing with comrades scheming instead of simply acting with the strength they have, Childe would think about his family. Picture the woman waiting for him, unaffected by the blood on his hands. Picture the kids he loves more than himself, so similar to him they could be his.

Childe thought to be satisfied with the little he had.

You were fixing your necklace when he made home from the market. On the table, he saw red earrings and a purse. Childe inhaled. He washed his hands and came back to sit on the couch, watching as you struggled with a necklace.

“The kids are quiet today”, he commented. Tone soft, eyes sharp.

You’re all dolled up, smelling like qingxin and padisarah soap. Your scent wasn’t half as sweet as the sight of you on that dress. Childe got it for you months ago during a trip to Liyue. Black silken with a high slit showed the pearly lace adorning your thigh.

You wore it as his companion to a Harbingers feast. He still remembers the hatred within his heart when Dottore kissed your knuckles and stained the silken evening glove matching it. He was forgiven by praising him in your presence.

“It’s Sonia’s birthday party. Her dad invited them all, haven’t I mentioned? I’ll get them tomorrow morning.”

You have a date.

It makes sense. It’s been a few years with his dad out of the picture. It was a matter of time before you decided to search for something more. To search for love, companionship or perhaps just a company for cold nights. It makes sense, so why haven’t Childe prepared himself for that?

“What do you want to eat?” Spreading his legs, Childe felt his eyelids twitch. “No need to vote this time, it’s your choice.”

Head tilted, you put on your earrings with a small frown on your face. “I was… Well, I hadn’t talked about it before because you were away for a long time and I didn’t knew if you would even want to know…”

“I’m sorry for being so busy”, said Ajax, interrupting your anxious rambling. If he wasn’t sure of it being a date before then Childe would be now. “I’ve made you feel neglected, haven’t I?”

Sitting beside him on the couch, you hesitated. “I know you have much to do. And I don’t expect you to waste your free time with me.”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you weakly towards him. Hugging you, Ajax closed his eyes. “Waste?” He breathed in, nose against your head. Childe cupped your cheek, thumb smoothing your tinted lips. “I miss you, ma. All the time.”

It was a matter of time for you to attract someone else’s gaze and decide to give it a chance. You’re a human being that requires attention and company like all others. But you’re a widower in a home warm with the promise of no more harm.

You stayed home for the night. Didn’t mentioned the date when Childe started cooking or when he told you to take off your heels. He called you fancy and all you did was smile, sitting on a stool as you changed the subject to the opera you went to last week.

You poured the wine, him already taking a sip as you continued to fill your glass to the brim. You always drink more than you should, which is way less than anyone would imagine. Childe finds endearing how lack of endurance is what keeps you away from being an alcoholic.

It was your choice, Childe repeated to himself later as he tried to sleep. You kept on drinking. When eating dinner at the table, on the couch talking about the last opera you watched, on the balcony appreciating the northern lights. It was your choice to keep on filling up your glass.

The sky was a few hours away from sunrise when you made your way upstairs to your bedroom. Childe took you in his arms at the first stumble, carrying your sleepy self with ease as you murmured something about your weight. He put you down on the large bed, covering you with thick blankets, and went downstairs to get water for your future headache.

Childe almost crushed the water jar when he came back to your bedroom.

Your dress was on the floor. So were the necklace and earrings, a pool of silken and gold. The lace around your thigh was still there, pressing against your skin as you opened the wardrobe. It was the only thing covering your body, which only worked to show how bare you were.

Childe leaned against the doorframe, not once thinking about turning away. He admired unashamed, memorizing every detail of you. The black panties at your ankles, your birthmarks, the shape of your hips when there were no clothes to mark it.

A white linen shirt covered your body. He recognized it. The texture of it, the weight it had on your shoulders. It belonged to his father. Childe bit his tongue and corrected himself. It belonged to your late husband.

You dressed up for someone else earlier. The lace and small panties, the lack of a bra. You smelled like something made to be devoured. And now you undress in search of comfort from a late man’s belonging. Still, no matter what you wear, your bed is empty. There’s nothing but expensive blankets to warm you.

How lonely you must be feeling. In need of someone to hold you through the night. Has a long life of selflessness finally came to an end? Did you noticed you spend a life giving and want to take until you’re satisfied? Childe thinks greed would fit you perfectly.

What a stupid mistake he made. Childe truly did neglected you.

Watching your happiness would’ve been enough for him. Knowing the kids won’t remember how often you used to cry would’ve been enough. Telling strangers about his lady waiting back at home would’ve been enough—you’re his home, the one he’ll always belong to and with.

Why did he assumed that would be enough for you? Is that how he’ll go for the rest of his life? Playing pretend while his mother sleeps alone, wearing the clothes of an abusive husband because that’s still better than being completely on her own? Being alone beside each other can really bring any comfort to you?

It all was enough for him but Childe won’t accept a reality in which you have needs he isn’t the one fulfilling.

Childe locked the door. He put the jar on the bedside table, taking off his gloves as you laid on top of the blankets. Loose hair all over your face, your eyelids were already closed. Childe called your name. You didn’t react.

Childe climbed onto the bed, his shadow engulfing you. What are your dreams about? Have you ever had nightmares like he used to? You look peaceful. Serene. Comfortable beneath him. Childe will keep you like that. Forever satisfied, not a need or wish ignored.

He kissed you—mouth pressed softly against your lips. You didn’t even move. In this cold land there’s nothing as warm as your breathing hitting his face. Childe cupped your cheeks, tongue carving a path between your lips. Murmurs go unheard as Childe’s heartbeat echoed on his eardrums.

You tasted like fine wine. He understands you now. Why you’d never know when to stop filling your glass. Childe can’t get enough of it, too. Childe hopes you won’t blame him for being just like you and not stopping when he should’ve.

Childe let go of you, hardly breathing as he admired your swollen lips. Your chest moved up and down, as if a man wasn’t touching you in the way you miss so. His silly mom drinking more than she can deal with. It won’t be a problem. He’ll be there to tell you when to stop, keeping you safe and warm.

Your neck was sensitive. Sighs and weak moans vibrated on your throat. Your eyelids closed tighter, jaw clenching when Childe bit hard enough to mark. He wonders how long it has been since you’ve last been kissed there. Licking the mark, Childe wondered about all the places in need of care.

He groaned when his mouth reached the linen. There’s so much you can wear. All the things Childe got you, beautiful fabrics that don’t smell like him. He’ll take care of it, too. Give it a day and all his clothes will burn to ashes. Starting with this one.

Childe ripped the shirt, revealing the rest of your body to him. The rug turns into shreds. There are no delicate touches when Childe takes it away from your skin and throws it on the lit fireplace. He wastes no time watching it burn, coming back to lay on top of you.

You flinched, breathing loudly. Childe abandons any false decency he could pretend to still have. His mouth waters, drool falling on your rigid nipple. He holds your waist and sucks it, eyes closed as he finally gets to do it again. Mouth full of you, Childe moans as he licks and bites your soft skin.

A palpable reaction finally comes out of you. Deep in a drunk slumber, all you can do is whimper and move your legs in useless attempts at stopping whatever is happening to you. You moan when he sucks your clit. Move your hips up and down unaware that it’s his tongue rubbing against you. Stains the blanket beneath your body, feverish as Childe kept on licking and kissing.

You cum when his fingers tease your slit. Childe thinks you do. Your legs shake, your mouth open as you struggle to breathe. Your chest moves fast, nipples he can’t stop thinking about marking more. You’re dripping on his face.

So defenseless. So fragile, falling apart while sleeping still. You were made to have rough hands keeping your legs apart so you can’t stop yourself from feeling all this pleasure. To have a man in love touching you in all the right places. Your body fits so well in his hands. It’s almost like you’re asking for it.

Childe knows you’re not. It’s just nice to pretend.

He learned through Snezhnaya’s weather that exposure is how one gets used to something. Constancy does what violence and fear could never accomplish on their own. He learned at home that love isn’t conditional. Your son will always be loved no matter what.

Childe will keep going until you awake. Then Ajax will kiss you better.

all my present and future takes on him are severely influenced by how easy it was to defeat him with lv 30 arlecchino. i'm sorry.

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist

[superiorsturgeon]

The Many Faces of Pyrrha

Pyrrha: *bending down and making a silly face so a young fan laughs* 🤪

Jaune: *staring dreamily at Pyrrha like an absolute dork* 😍

Nora: *bumps Jaune’s shoulder* Whatcha thinking about, fearless leader? 😏

Jaune: I’m just thinking how lucky I am to see the real Pyrrha…! You know, the side that the public doesn’t get to see! 🥰

———————————————————

Headline: All-Star Huntress Pyrrha Nikos shares her laser-focused approach to diet for maximum performance!

Jaune/Pyrrha: *scarfing down waffle fries in a fry-eating contest*

Pyrrha: *shoves the last waffle fry in her mouth and jumps up for a crumb-covered victory dance* MMMF-MMFF!!! 😁

Jaune: *slowly munches his last fry* Beat me again, Pyr…! 🥰

———————————————————

Breaking: Exclusive video of Invincible Girl Pyrrha Nikos and her partner attending New Atlas Ball in stunning custom dress to celebrate her recent tournament victory!

Jaune: *playing MushroomKart 6* …come on…come on…almost there…I have you this time…! 😬

Pyrrha: Not if I blue-shell you first! 😈

Pyrrha: *snipes Jaune and clinches first place*

Pyrrha: HA!! Pay up, beloved!! 😜

Jaune: *hands over his hoodie* 🙄

Pyrrha: *commences ridiculous Dork Dance™️ in Jaune’s hoodie* 😁

———————————————————

Highlights from The Invincible Girl’s BRUTAL takedown of an ENTIRE TEAM by KNOCKOUT in Combat Championship!

Jaune: *holds up his Scroll* Hey, Pyr, my sister sent me a video of the kitten she’s fostering!

Pyrrha: *gasp* 😍

Pyrrha: It’s so WIDDLE!!!! Look at those tiny fwuffy paws and his widdle bumper-car tail!! I just wanna cuddle him and nuzzle his fuzzy tummy and kiss right between those widdle ears and-[assorted undignified gibberish]

———————————————————

Top 10 Sports Stories: Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop! Pyrrha Nikos shares her insane daily training regimen!

Jaune: …Pyr…

Pyrrha: Mmm…*hugging Jaune tight and preventing him from getting out of bed* 😪

Jaune: Pyrrha, we need to get up…!

Pyrrha: *squeezes tighter* Nooo…! 😣

Jaune: You need to get up for your morning jog! Also we both have meetings today and I have to make breakfast!

Pyrrha: *drags Jaune deeper into blankets* Can’t we just pick up a muffin on the way…? 😩

———————————————————

Jaune: 😊

Nora: *pokes Jaune’s ribs* Sounds like Jaune-Jaune’s in looo~oove! 😆

Jaune: What can I say? She’s an angel…! 🥰

Pyrrha: *snort-laughing* Jaune! You have to see this video Ruby sent me of her corgi! He’s so-*snort*-so adorable!!! 🤣

[spideyanakin]

I don't know how to keep complimenting your work without sounding redundant or like I'm just kissing ur ass but I seriously do love it and hey yippee more sirius content sirius my beloved!!!!!!!

you are temporarily forgiven but only temporarily because I know you're going to hurt me again

❀

STOP your making me blush! no but flattery WORKS on me. You do not know how rewarding it is as an author to have so much love for projects you are passionate about, and to hear that other people share your excitement!!! ily for it ❀, like this makes me want to continue writing, it keeps me motivated! <3 ily

so because flattery works so well on me, and we need as much sirius content as possible, here’s more fluff and cute banter this time to comfort our little hearts and earn your full forgiveness 💜

all I think about now - masterlist

summary - slytherin! reader, slytherin just won the quidditch game, james swears it was your fault, sirius finds it funny.

warnings - james being totally wiped for lily, and sirius being the same for the reader

"Your girlfriend just made us lose the game."

"Actually, it was his brother," Remus mumbled as he fixed his scarf. "Reg caught the snitch."

"Yeah, but she pushed me! I was going to catch the damn thing!"

"Don't be such a baby, James," Sirius grinned, which only made his friend scowl.

"Don't tell me you're happy they won?"

"Obviously not. I'm just saying that... maybe it wasn't entirely her fault..."

James's mouth fell agape, "Moony, did you just hear what he said?"

"I did," the werewolf hummed under the thick layers of scarf he carefully wrapped around himself.

"Sirius has gone mad! You were there mate!"

"I also saw you get distracted by Lily who was cheering for you just as my girlfriend was passing by."

"Where does his loyalties lie!?" James shrieked and Remus simply shrugged his shoulders.

"There you are, boys!" Your voice came from behind them, and Sirius grinned when he saw you walking his way. You had already changed from your quidditch attire to your crisp uniform, the Slytherin quidditch sweater draped atop your frame.

"Good game was it not?" You smirked, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I think you just got lucky," Sirius playfully scrunched his nose before locking your lips with his, his arm snaking around your middle. "James is pissed though, said you pushed him out of the way so he lost the snitch."

"Pardon?" You blinked at the boy.

James looked like he was going to burst, "I-, you-"

"What? All shy in front of my girl now?"

"I'm not having this conversation," and with another huff, James turned around on his heels and left the other way.

"What's his problem?" You frowned, and Remus simply offered yet a new shrug.

"Lily."

[sammylkcho]

*fidgets in place. Kicks rock*

Razzle&DazzlexGn!Reader? 🥺 or Boxten if you don't want to write rnd *looks around nonchalantly*

oh my god, i don't know why but your request filled my head with thousands of super sweet reader and R&D scenarios

and don’t worry! I tried to make it as fluffy and romantic as possible (in a healthy way, of course)

Warnings/Notes: first fic about dandys world yay, fluff, romantic, established relationship, reader with gender neutral

After spending a good while in the elevator extracting ichor from the machines, you felt your hands and feet completely sore and numb. All the adrenaline that had kept you alert had faded away, and now you were fully aware of the pain that invaded every part of your body.

If it were possible, your hands would be calloused by now. Instead, a slight tremor ran through your fingers, still covered in dried ichor that you'd forgotten to clean off while working.

You managed to reach one of the few rooms that hadn’t yet been invaded by the twisteds, a place of rest for the few toons still exploring the floors and continuing with the extraction. With tired eyes, you looked around the room until a familiar figure caught your attention. You immediately recognized the two heads (or masks) and the red scarf around their neck. Your eyes lit up in recognition: your duo and beloved partner.

"Razzle, Dazzle!" you exclaimed, waving excitedly as they turned to see who was calling them.

"Oh! Y/N" Razzle called to you with the same joy you felt, while Dazzle also said your name in a soft but sweet tone. Both looked genuinely happy to see you.

They opened their arms, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you reached them. The warmth of their embrace was comforting, and any negative thoughts seemed to dissipate in their company.

"How was it out there?" Razzle asked. "You’re alright.. aren’t you?" added Dazzle a few seconds later, in his calm tone to avoid overwhelming you.

You buried your face into the curve of their necks, savoring the soft texture of the scarf they shared. You made a small sound of negation before replying.

"It went well, though I’m a bit tired right now. And yeah, I’m okay… just a bit covered in ichor" you responded to both questions, letting the hug envelop you.

You felt the rhythmic strokes of Razzle’s white hand (on the right side, you assumed) and the slow pats of Dazzle’s black hand (on the left side).

"We could help you next time you go; you know you have us here to help" Razzle said.

"Mmh… I could extract the machines, so you don’t get so tired" added Dazzle.

A slight warmth colored your cheeks at their words. Normally, you wouldn’t ask for their help since they ended up tired too, but you always appreciated those supportive and encouraging comments they gave you.

A small squeal of excitement and nervousness escaped you involuntarily, and you quickly tried to hide even further into the scarf.

"Thanks guys" you whispered after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

You thought they might simply continue talking normally or stay in silence in each other’s company until you suddenly heard an energetic "mwa" followed by a softer "mwa" leaving you feeling both shaky and nervous.

"Anything for our beloved partner!" "We wouldn’t want to see you so tired and doing everything on your own..."

Their words filled you with a comforting warmth that made your heart race. They were too sweet.

You lifted your head, full of determination, noticing Dazzle’s slight smile and Razzle’s bright grin, both filled with deep love and affection.

You gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks, leaning on their shoulders as you smiled warmly at both.

They were the sun that brightened your days, and you were their burning flame that never seemed to go out, no matter how strong the wind.

[samurai-smoocher]

Self ship blog for my Goemon Ishikawa XIII

Non sharing | DNI if you’re also a Goemon self-shipper please and thank you! :’}

This blog is dedicated to the love of my life

My Goemon, my lover, my samurai.

🩵 About Me

Name: Eris (or Moxie lol)

Age: 18

Pronouns: she/her

Autistic • Bisexual • Hopeless romantic with violent tendencies (affectionate)

This is a side blog! I follow back from @moxanji-real, my main (home of my beloved Sanji!)

This space is just for me and my sweet baby Goemon!

💌 About My Ship

Goemon is everything to me. He’s quiet, serious, disciplined—and yet somehow, he makes my heart scream like a teenage girl at a boy band concert. I love the way he tries to act composed and reserved, even though I can make him blush in 0.2 seconds flat. He’s my strong, silent protector and I’m his chaotic, emotional whirlwind who thinks his every move is a grand romantic gesture.

He doesn’t say much, but when he does, it matters. I can tell he loves me deeply even if he’s terrible at expressing it out loud. I bring the noise, he brings the sword, and together we make a disaster duo in love.

He’s mine. I’m his. Forever and ever 🥹💙

❗ DNI (Kindly!)

– Please don’t follow or interact if you are also a Goemon self shipper. This is a non sharing blog and I kindly ask for that boundary to be respected.

- Also PLEASE don’t interact with me if you reblog stuff from other Goemon Selfshippers or are friends with Goemon Selfshippers. (I wanna stay far FAR away from my doubles and just pretend they don’t exist because I will have legit panic attacks over being exposed to doubles content or finding their account. Please be kind to me and don’t interact with me. I don’t wanna get hurt over this)

-Also please dni if you ship Goemon x Murasaki from the Fuma Conspiracy Movie. That is the only Goemon ship I can’t stand. If you ship other ships I’m fine to interact! The other ships don’t bother me! It’s just that one ship that makes me insecure

– No NSFW. SFW interactions only, please!

– No drama or negativity

Minors of all ages are welcome if you’re respectful!

🏷 TAG GUIDE

#goemis – Our ship name (Goemon + Eris)

#eris speaks – Personal posts and rambles

#goemon gush hour – Shameless gushing about my beautiful man

Thanks for visiting my little shrine to the stoic samurai I’m madly in love with. If you love self-shipping and respect boundaries, you’re more than welcome here. Just know this blog is purely for me and my Goemon.

Goemis forever.

— Love, Eris ♡

Self insert

-You can refer to me as Eris or refer to Eris as a seperate character! It doesn’t bother me!

- If you draw her keep in mind her blue eye is the same color as her scarf! I know it’s kinda hard to see lmao

-Ref sheet done by yours truly 🫶🏻

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . . WHAT A STEAL!

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ not rlly any warnings i think!! basic sashisu x reader (suguru’s is prob a lil more obvious) u r just a victim of sashisu thievery 🫶🏾

SASHISU who steal your things.

your favorite pink beanie has gone missing. you wear it every time you go out, even around the house sometimes, but the hat has suddenly went MIA. last you saw, it was on your desk. and shoko was the last person in your room, but she doesn't seem to have your beloved hat. the four of you are heading out for brunch at some cafe satoru was going rabid about, so you don't want to keep them waiting over a beanie. it’s not until you settle for another and meet the trio at the door that you spot it on satoru’s head.

he doesn't show the slightest hint of guilt as you approach, in fact gojo acts like everything is normal. you'd find the sight of this 6 foot giant topped off with a baby pink beanie amusing if you weren't so annoyed in the moment.

“i have been looking all over for that!” you glare up at gojo, poking a finger in his chest.

and he just gives you a shit-eating grin. “oh, i know! looks like you finally found it, yeah?”

he thinks the little frown you give him is so cute, but gojo still pacifies your angry stare by engulfing you in his blue scarf. he taps a finger on your nose, and his eyes light up when you grin at him. you suppose this is a fair trade.

a brand new pair of pink slides that you just bought to wear around the house have suddenly disappeared clean from your bedroom. you wonder if you left them in shoko’s room, and search for her to ask.

“sho?” you call as you stick your head out onto the balcony. “have you seen my sandals?”

she’s leaning against the rail having a smoke, suguru sitting in one of the balcony chairs. your eyes gravitate to her feet as she asks, “which ones?”

‘which ones?’ you repeat mockingly in your head, staring at said shoes on her feet because she’s seemingly helped herself. along with a pair of your new socks, too, apparently?

"now, shoko-"

"okay, okay." she and suguru share delighted giggles. "can i wear them a little longer, until i finish this?" shoko lifts the glowing cigarette in her hand.

you huff, though unable to fight the way your lips curl up into a smile. "fine. i want them back right after, though. get your own slides."

she brushes you off with a turn of her head, giggling. "love you, y/n."

"yeah, yeah, whatever."

one. two.

one...two...

yep, one of your pillows is definitely missing.

it's not on the couch (like the last time gojo took it when he fell asleep there) and not in shoko's room (which you assume would make the most sense). you're headed to the guest room next to see if it's been misplaced there, but something feels off when you pass by suguru's open door. his eyes are on you as you step back for a doubletake, and find him relaxed atop a very out-of-place pink pillow on his black bedsheets.

"what, are your pillows not good enough?" hands falling to your hips, your head tilts, a brow raised at geto's unbothered reaction.

he replies with a languid smile. "i find yours a little more comfortable."

you hold your tongue on reminding him that you both went pillow-shopping together, so they're the same pillows. he holds his tongue on admitting that he also likes the way your scent calms his nerves and lulls him to sleep. you both decide it's not important, right now, anyway.

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @mysugu @hellkaiserinphoenix :3c

[moviestarmartini]

madridista by choice — carlos sainz x f!reader.

summary: after expressing a small interest, carlos wants to go all in teaching his girlfriend about his beloved club. you’re a bit too proud to admit you’re beginning to understand why he loves it so much. but it also gives him an idea for a great bday gift you could both enjoy.

warnings: none! mostly a smau, short paragraphs as intro. pre-established relationship. few sentences in spanish. part of a series ! ( read part one here )

fc: blanca soler

“So?” Carlos asked after you passed the doorway of your shared apartment after dinner.

“It was fun,” You admitted with your lips pressed into a thin line as he approached your side, fixing the scarf.

Yet you added, “Even though it’s stressful. How do you do it?”

“It’s not always like that, amor,” He laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Would you be willing to attend other matches with me?”

You thought about it for a few minutes. He noticed; he could see the way your eyes looked a few miles ahead of him and your teeth tugged on your bottom lip slightly. The ambiance was electrifying, and even though you didn’t understand much yet, the sentiment of unity and love for the institution was easily transmitted to you.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, and before you could say anything else, he was squeezing the life out of you.

“Only said yes because I don’t know if you’ll find tickets for the final.” You let out a strained laugh. At the end of the day, his happiness was your own.

yourusername recently posted to their story!

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, judebelligham and others

yourusername gracias dulzuras for all the bday wishes 🥰 and hala madrid ! 🤍 best way to spend the evening

see all 5698 comments

carlossainz55 cada vez que vienes conmigo ganamos, de ahora en más vamos a todos los partidos importantes juntos jajajaa (every time you come with me we win, from now on we’ll go to all important matches together)

-> yourusername weird way of saying you want to spend every waking hour by my side but okay

-> landonorris i hate to be like this but you're both so annoying to sit through a match with

-> yourusername celoso 🙄

username GOD WHEN IS IT MY TURN

username jude you're not slick in the likes we see you

carmenmmundt i loved having you over 🥹

-> yourusername thank you for helping carlitos organize my bday dinner 🥲💓

-> georgerussell63 actually i picked the restaurant

-> yourusername um actually 🤓☝️

-> yourusername kidding kidding, thank u too g you’re a real one x

username OMG THE WHITE HEART IN HER TWEET SHOULD’VE GIVEN IT AWAY

-> username mastermind because i would’ve never linked the two together

username seriously? this man only gifted her tickets to a match of his own football club??? that was a gift for himself

-> username fr men be like that

-> username real (i want her tho)

-> username sighhhh why are y’all weird???

A/N: i’m doing a bonus part but !! thank u for reading 🤭 i’m so glad i got to use uk!carlos for this hehe

[jamal127]

Seeing you in a desi outfit for the first time

♡ Ryomen Sukuna version ♡

Authors note: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji versions are in the making! TRUST🔥

Sukuna would be surprised and somewhat weirded out by seeing a completely new style of clothing that is completely different from what he’s used to, which is mostly Japanese traditional and western clothing.

Sukuna knew you were from a completely different culture than him, but hadn't given much thought to the idea that it would include different clothing too. Because he had never seen you in anything like that before.

You knew that and therefore thought it would be fun to surprise him. Your mom had given you a lot of her old clothes and one of them was a Rajput dress. As you were fixing the scarf in front of the mirror you saw Sukuna standing in the hallway to your shared room

“What are you wearing?”

“One of my mom's old rajputi dresses. What do you think?” 

“I have never seen you in anything like this before.”

You turned around and smiled softly at him. Seeing you more clearly now he examined the outfit and looked you up and down. The thoughts he first had of surprise and something strange and foreign had left him and been replaced by ravishing beauty. What he saw now was a queen. His beautiful Queen.

“Always suited to be a queen,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“It’s alright I guess,” Sukuna said as he walked out of the room

You didn’t blame him for the dress not being to his liking although you had hoped. You turned around, facing the mirror once again to admire the dress. You saw something moving in the mirror and once again caught your beloved peeking through the hallway. What you also saw was the corner of his lips slightly tugging upwards.

©jamal127 ✧ all rights served. || 2025  (≖ᴗ≖✿)

[ducksido]

Crewel's Valentine

Valentine’s Day

In the Crewel household was nothing short of elegant. Everything had to be perfect—flawless, stylish, and befitting a couple of such refined tastes. At least, that was how Divus Crewel approached the occasion.

His spouse, Y/N, on the other hand? They knew better than to expect a traditional romantic gesture. Crewel was meticulous and demanding, but when it came to them, his love was always evident—even if it came with a scolding or two.

And this year, love came in the form of a candlelit dinner… shared with their beloved dogs.

Y/N stepped into the dining room, immediately greeted by the sight of an extravagantly decorated table—white roses arranged in crystal vases, candlelight flickering against fine china, and a decadent meal perfectly plated.

And sitting at the table, looking just as composed as their master, were their two pampered dogs, each with a gourmet steak dinner set before them in polished silver bowls.

Y/N had to bite back a laugh. "You really went all out, didn’t you?"

Divus Crewel, dressed in his usual tailored perfection, adjusted his gloves before giving them a proud smirk. "Did you expect anything less, my dear? Valentine’s Day is an art, and I refuse to allow anything subpar in my household."

Y/N chuckled, moving to sit across from him. Their two dogs—one a sleek, regal-looking setter and the other a lively, fluffy pup—were already digging into their luxurious meals, tails wagging happily.

"You know," Y/N mused, taking a sip of their wine, "I think the dogs are getting more pampered than I am."

Crewel let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Ridiculous. You’re the most spoiled of them all." His sharp eyes softened just slightly as he reached for their hand. "Though, I suppose I could remind you."

Y/N raised a teasing brow. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

Crewel leaned in, his voice low and smooth. "For starters, you’ll find that I spared no expense in curating only the finest gifts for my beloved spouse." He motioned toward an elegant gift box resting beside Y/N’s plate.

Y/N opened it, revealing a stunning silk scarf embroidered with delicate roses—clearly something Crewel had made with great care.

They smiled, running their fingers over the fabric. "It’s beautiful, Divus. Thank you."

Crewel gave a satisfied nod. "Good. I’d hate to have failed at impressing you." His lips curled into a smirk. "But if you think that’s the extent of your spoiling, you underestimate me, my dear."

Y/N laughed. "Alright, alright, I get it. You win Valentine’s Day, as always."

Crewel lifted their hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against their knuckles with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Of course, I do. But only because I have such a magnificent spouse to impress."

Y/N felt their face warm at the intensity in his gaze. They had seen this look before—sharp, calculating, with just a hint of amusement beneath it.

And then, Crewel stood, brushing off his coat before extending his gloved hand toward them. "Now, darling, while our dear pups have had their feast… I do believe there’s another matter that requires my undivided attention."

Y/N tilted their head, a playful smirk forming. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Crewel leaned down, his breath ghosting against their ear as he murmured, "You, of course."

Y/N barely had a moment to react before he tugged them up from their chair, his grip firm yet careful. "Come," he said smoothly, his voice dangerously soft, "I do believe you deserve a proper lesson in how truly spoiled you are."

And judging by the heat in his gaze? It would be a long night indeed.

[mimisempai]

A love celebrated every day

Summary

Crowley has forgotten about today's special date, but Aziraphale doesn't hold it against him and instead shows him that there's no need to do anything special to celebrate their love.

Notes

Warning : Fluffy fluff…

Whether you're a couple or not, I wish you all a joyous celebration of love.

On Ao3

Rating G - 567 words

"Angel, I'm home."

Crowley tapped his feet on the doormat outside the door to shake off the snow that had stuck to his shoes before entering the warm house. Once the door was closed, he hung his coat, scarf and hat on the coat rack in the foyer before heading into the living room.

He was surprised to find the room in semi-darkness, and as he approached the sofa, he saw a figure lying on it as the gramophone made the little repetitive sound that indicated the end of the record.

The demon smiled tenderly when he saw that Aziraphal was fast asleep, with a blanket over his knees, an open book on his chest, and his small round glasses askew on his nose.

He approached him and knelt down to gently remove the book, taking care to insert the bookmark before closing it, and placed it on the coffee table. He slowly pulled the blanket up a little higher than the angel's waist. 

He leaned in a little more, and just as he was about to take hold of Aziraphale's glasses, the angel opened his eyes. Crowley straightened the glasses on the angel's nose before gently stroking his cheek with his knuckles.

"Angel, I'm home."

Aziraphale replied, his voice still sleepy, "Welcome home."

Then he pushed himself against the back of the sofa to make room for the demon and, lifting the blanket, continued, "You must be freezing after those long hours outside, come and get warm."

Obviously unable to refuse such a sweet invitation, Crowley immediately lay down against the angel on the sofa, wrapped his arms around his waist, and curled up against him.

Aziraphale pulled the blanket up to cover them both, then with a slight movement of his hand, started the gramophone, which immediately played some soft music, and with a second movement, rekindled the fire in the fireplace.

Crowley snuggled up even closer, and with his face buried in the angel's neck, he hummed, "Hmm, that's perfect."

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the red hair and then asked quietly, "Do you know what day it is?"

Crowley shook his head.

The angel tilted his head slightly and whispered in the demon's ear, "Happy Valentine's Day."

He felt the demon gasp against him, but he gently stroked Crowley's back as he continued in a soothing voice, "Hey, it's okay. I don't blame you for forgetting, you know."

"But didn't you want to go to the Ritz to celebrate? To mark this day? Our first-"

Aziraphale took the demon's face between his hands to make him look up at him, then said quietly, "Actually, there's only one thing missing to make this Valentine's Day perfect."

"And that would be?" asked Crowley, looking puzzled.

"A kiss from my beloved demon."

Crowley's face lit up with a smile and, moving his face closer to the angel's, he replied softly, "Then let me make this day perfect. Happy Valentine's Day, my angel." 

The demon closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to the angel's soft ones in a tender kiss, wanting to do everything to make this celebration of love perfect.

And perfect it was.

There was no need for fancy food, roses, chocolate, heart-shaped boxes. They had waited so long to live their love openly that the preciousness of it was celebrated each time they shared a simple and tender moment like this.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[quillaffinity]

Know that Home is Your Name (art by @puowei my beloved)

_

Grim munched on the warm samosa gripped between his paws, his sharp teeth making easy work of the delicate layers of filo dough that covered the savory meat filling inside. Founding Day at Ramshackle was in full swing before him, with all his classmates and upperclassmen appeared to be enjoying themselves quite a bit. Even the teachers seemed pleased, surveying all the new growth and hard-won repairs made to the previously dilapidated grounds. Maybe Bramble waking him up so early to finish decorating hadn't been such a bad idea...

"Now why would the Great Mage Grim be sitting all by his lonesome?" His ears perked at the sound of Bramble's gentle teasing. His hench-human (fairy?) looked a bit tired from cooking and playing hostess all day, yet she still smiled down at him, brighter than the spring sun. The familiar quickly turned away from her with a huff, his stomach twisting uncharacteristically.

Then came a rusle of fabric and grass as Bramble slowly sat herself down next to him. The deep red color of her blouse and skirt bringing out the warmth of her skin and the luster of the long alizarin curls flowing down her back. She was wearing one of those complicated, pleated outfits from her world. Her world, Grim thought, the place where she left her younger brother behind.

The person she loved the most.

He heard about the guy. How could he not? Every chance she got, his hench-fairy would talk about how great a guy her brother was. How much she missed him, how she couldn't wait to see him again.

Ugh.

"What'er you doing here Bramble? Shouldn't you be out there making sure all those dolts don't start a fight?" Grim quickly finished off the pastry in his arms, unable to even taste it. But then she laughed and Grim had to look back at her. He'd rather give up tuna forever than ever admit how much he liked the sound.

The golden embroidery on her clothes glinted warmly in the dim light around them. With Grim in a newly tailored Ceremonial Robe and Bramble glittering with loaned jewels, they made a rather odd but dashing picture as they sat side-by-side. She, a human turned half-fairy. He, a monster turned student of magic. And to think that when they both arrived at their dorm they had been at such odds...

"I have faith in them to keep it together for a little while, at least."

"Myeh, that's stupid."

She smiled at that. One of those eye-crinkling small ones, the ones that made him feel like they were sharing a secret. Like this, it would be easy to believe they'd always be here, be together. But the more Grim looked at Bramble', the more he felt that Bramble was moving further and further away from him. And closer and closer back to her home.

And he hated it.

He didn't want her to go home. Screw her stupid brother! A man ought to take care of himself! He didn't need Bramble, he had her for all his life. But Grim? She had just come into his, she couldn't leave so soon.

"Grim...Why are you sitting so far from me?" Her voice was soft in the way she reserved only for him. The same tone she used when they were curled up together for warmth in Ramshackle as she sang him little lullabies in languages he didn't know. She rested a soft hand on her knee as she tilted her head ever so slightly to meet his eyes. Her blue scarf flowing between them, a teal connection from her to him.

Grim looked away once again.

It felt like something was stuck in his throat, but no amount of swallowing made any food dislodge itself. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs, but no words came out. Stay. Stay here with me. With all of us. I don't take care of you very well right now, but I swear I'll do better than your home ever did. You won't even miss that selfish brother of yours!

Bramble reached out, curling her thin, work-worn hands around to rub and scratch at his face the way he liked. Subtly turning the monster's furred face back in her direction as he smiled unwittingly. Her fingers always gentle, her nails just long and sharp enough to scratch pleasantly.

It was Bramble who cooked their food and cleaned their dorm. It was Bramble to woke him up in the morning and made him brush his teeth. It was Bramble who made sure they had money for necessities and that Grim finished his homework on time.

But maybe he could learn?

Maybe he could figure out how to do more things, enough things that the idea of staying with Grim wasn't such a bad one. That way she wouldn't go back to that stupid world with that stupider brother of her's.

"There's that smile I love!" There was a golden glint of mischief in Bramble's eyes that gave Grim half a mind to turn away and pout once more. If only to keep the fairy's attention on him. He, half-heartedly, batted her hand away with greasy paws. But Bramble simply wrinkled her nose and leaned over to press a kiss between his ears, smelling like home the only way Grim knew.

No one and no thing had ever cared for him like her. Bramble had made sure he was fed, clean, and ready each and every day to accomplish his dreams. Having believed in him since day one. Heck, if he asked, Grim was sure she'd let him sink his fangs into her arm if she thought it'd help him. But what had he given her?

Not enough.

Not enough to keep her from going home, anyway.

"Now that you've finished pouting...I have some good news to share." The monster's stomach sunk and roiled. Suddenly he wanted to spit fire, he wanted to turn and set Ramshackle ablaze. Because, if he destroyed it, he wouldn't have a home and if he didn't have a home Bramble couldn't leave. She wouldn't. She'd stay and she'd take care of him and treat him so kindly he'd burn down another dorm just to keep her in Twisted Wonderland. He flattened his ears, fire bubbling behind his throat.

"...what?"

"Crowley's finally approved of my request to add my mother's last name to my file. I'm officially Bramble Euricide, Housewarden of the Ramshackle Dorm!"

Grim blinked.

Huh? That's it? She...She wasn't going home? She wasn't leaving him? She...She was staying. She was staying! Here! With him!

"And..."

Grim froze.

"I asked him to add 'Euricide' as your last name as well...but only if you want to! I-If that's to much I can't just let him know, he probably hasn't even glanced at our files since the first day so-" Bramble leaned a bit away from him, flustered. She looked away hurriedly, lashes low and shy over her pale pink-gold eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do I need a last name? Ain't that for your family?" Bramble went very still. Even the vines swirling and sprouting behind her slight pointed ears froze as if caught in a sudden frost. Slowly, her eyes widened as she turned back to look at him. She was silent for one, two, three heartbeats. Then her brows furrowed and her eyes softened in shock.

In heartbreak.

"Grim. Grim, you are my family."

Bramble reached for him, opening her arms just enough to welcome him. But she didn't pull him to her. She hesitated, hands just outstretched in front of him. Wow, Grim thought.

She's so stupid.

He leaped into her soft arms, and, immediately, was surrounded by her warmth. In fact, Bramble was so warm that it even made the back of Grim's eyes burn ever so slightly. Darn things even started to sweat. He knew his claws must have hurt her skin as he clung to her, but she held him too tightly to care. Grim made a small noise in his throat, rubbing his cheek against hers as her vines began to sprout soft lilac-colored flowers. Bramble stifled a soft sob against his fur, hugging the little creature close with every ounce of love she had.

"We've been through too much not to be, b-but if you don't want to be-"

"I n-never said that you dummy!"

A family. A friend. A companion at the start and end of the world. How blessed he was, Grim thought, how happy his life finally was.

-

i commissioned @puowei to draw bramble (my twst oc) and she did such a beautiful, wonderful, kind job that couldn't help but add a hopefully-equally sweet snippet between my Ramshackle duo. puo has an immense talent and skill only rivaled by her unyielding kindness and i cannot recommend her services enough. thank you for all your hard work, and for bringing so much life and beauty to sweet, tragic little brambleberry <3

-

tagging - @le-monchou and @twstnettle

[yewphoric]

Updated reference sheet for my beloved LDB, Ragnar! (he/it)

I'm so fucking happy with how this turned out!! Ragnar hasn't had a reference (or frankly a design) I've ever been truly happy with, but now it does!

I lightened its color scheme and added a few more details that I'm happy with, properly plotted out scars (and made the burn scar much more accurate, and better positioned imo), and gave it a casual outfit heavily inspired by @/sothasil 's Khajit fashion concept art. Specific post I used as inspo is here!

I'm also happy with his new weapons. Previously I'd just been using ebony war axes for his weapons, but I really like the idea of him getting them custom made. In keeping with Ragnar's very heavy Kyne association (which I'll talk a bit more about here in a sec), they have a sapphire core that catches the light and appears quite blue, and are enchanted with lightning magic.

As for the casual outfit, I wanted him to wear something that's a mash of Khajiit and Nord culture. Growing up in a caravan, Ragnar would have dressed like most Elsweyr-born Khajiit, which, going by the linked post, is typically just a tunic with a scarf. However, all of that clothing and such was destroyed when Alduin attacked Ragnar's caravan, and so it had to get new clothes. So, everything it wears is sourced from Skyrim, but tailored (by our resident tailor's son and Ragnar's qpp, Jenais) to be worn by a Khajiit, with more Khajiiti influence.

The amulet of Kyne was also hand-crafted! I like to think Ragnar carved the token himself, and then scavenged dragon teeth and hawk feathers for it. There's no enchantment on it, but it's spiritually very important to him because it represents his connection to Kyne. Hell, maybe Kyne has blessed it in some Moon-and-Star-esque way so that it grants a boon to Ragnar and Ragnar only.

Oh, and his burn scar! I've done much more research on burns and burn scars since his last reference sheet (2023....) and I made it more realistic. This injury occurred when Alduin destroyed the caravan and left Ragnar with a scar to remember him by (didn't kill him outright because he wanted to have an honorable battle). It took months to recover from, and Ragnar was made to do stretches and have massages frequently so that he could keep his range of motion. Exercise was also important to avoid muscle atrophy in such an important area. Even still though, the restoration magic couldn't completely fix it, and he suffers chronic pain that fluctuates day by day. It also frequently itches, and on certain days he can hardly move. I'm thinking about giving him mobility aids for those days potentially?? If anyone is more knowledgeable on that and has ideas for what kind of aids he could use, let me know!!

But yeah um. I'm so normal about him. My dragon kitty thing. Not sure if any of this rambling makes much sense (I never remember how much I've already shared about him here) but uh yeah!! I'm always open to questions about it, if anyone wants to know more :>

Oh, and shoutout to @oblivions-dawn for the screenshot I used for the background!

[2kverrr]

SAM GIDDINGS || BESSIE'S BREWS

UNTIL DAWN || 8.9k Words

Bessie's Brews is a small, hidden café amongst many attached buildings on Fallings Place, safely nestled between a florist and an antique shop. For almost 40 years the cosy coffee spot has been a beloved local gem, cherished by residents and visitors alike. The charming exterior, adorned with creeping vines and hand-painted signs, beckons passers-by to step inside and escape the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

Your grandmother began the business way before you were brought into the world, even customers from the 70s still pop in for their afternoon tea of a Sunday.

Ever since you were little you've helped out in whatever way you can, the building became that of a second home to you. You've memorised everything, the tinkle of the bell above the door, the sharp tingle in your nose the first time you were allowed to handle the coffee beans, how the till has failed on you time and time again, but never seems to fail when tinging as it springs open.

You look forward to picking up your weekend shift all week at school, usually with your mother and cousin, who've been working there their entire lives as well.

"Sweetie, are you sure you two will be okay on your own? I can call in Bes-" Your mother calls as she finishes up starting the till and slides on her winter coat and scarf.

You assure her with a confident smile, "It's fine, we'll be perfectly fine," Your mother picks up on a shared conspiratorial glance between you and your cousin, to which she quirks an eyebrow, "I promise.”

With a satisfied nod, your mother finally relents and steps out into the crisp evening air, leaving you and your cousin alone in the café. You both share a knowing grin that ignites a spark of excitement; the café is yours for the next few hours.

"God, let's turn that ancient shit off," The brunette cheers, plugging his phone in and playing some old-school DnB, "Bessie's brew and bass, baby!”

The boy bops his head as you dry off a few mugs, lightly giggling at his antics, and through the framed stained glass you notice a regular smiling inwards. Wearing his stripy tie along with his casual double-breasted coat, his blinged-out walking stick pushed open the door, ringing the small bell hanging above, “Morning, you two! I see the shop is in good hands,” Sean says with a warm smile, his voice as familiar as the scent of coffee that lingers in the air.

You wipe your hands on a dish towel and return his greeting, eager to serve him his usual order—a steaming cup of your grandmother’s famous Earl Grey and a slice of homemade carrot cake.

As you hand his tea over the counter the bell rings again, routinely your eyes glance towards the door a blonde head of hair walking through the door, face covered with a scarf and a beanie.

"Looks beautiful, as does the barista." Sean smiles making you chuckle, he rummages through his pocket for loose change, "One mome-“

You grin with a tilt of your head, "On us, Sean. Jay will bring out your cake in a moment, fresh batch.”

"Oh, you're a good one, just like our Bess. Thank you, darling." And he shuffles his way over to his usual corner seat.

In a world of you're own, you don't notice the customer who walked through the door, leaning down in front of you as she examines the baked goods.

A pair of bright blue eyes finally meet your own, a moment spared to examine your face before she removes her outer garments and reveals a toothy smile. A smile you knew too well, that belonged to Sam Giddings, a pretty good friend of yours - well a friend of a friend.

"Sam? How are you?" You lean over the counter, glancing at the clock behind her that read 7:14, "You're up early.”

She grinned widely, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I’m great! Just on my morning walk and thought I’d swing by for a something to warm me up.” Sam brushed her hair back, revealing golden hoops hanging from her ears that glimmered in the soft café light.

She scans the small business still holding a grin, "I've heard good things about this place. I didn't know you worked here!”

You can't help but feel a sense of pride swell within you. "It's a family business," you reply, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. The walls are adorned with quirky artwork by local artists and all memories dated for the past 30 years. "We make everything from scratch. My grandma’s recipes," you add, beaming.

Sam leans in closer as she inspects the display of pastries, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the freshly iced lemon drizzle cake and the rich chocolate brownies. "Everything looks amazing," she exclaims, her excitement infectious ", and might I say so do you, I think aprons might be your thing." She smirks.

You offer her a genuine smile as you ignore the blush swiftly racing up to your cheeks "What can I get for you, Ms Giddings?”

“Surprise me! I trust your judgment," she replies, her voice playful, and you immediately decide on a cappuccino alongside an apple turnover (specifically chosen because you'd made them the previous night).

The blonde eagerly watches your every move with focus as you craft her drink, steaming the milk just right, the froth rising to create a delicate heart atop the cappuccino. As you sprinkle a dash of cinnamon on top.

“There you go, one cappuccino and an apple turnover - that is currently a one-time special, and of course: made with love,” you say, placing the warm treat on the counter. Sam’s eyes widen with delight as she picks up the apple turnover, the crust perfectly flaky, glistening with a light dusting of sugar. “Wow, this looks incredible!” she remarks, her smile now as wide as her ears. “How much is it?”

"On the house.”

"Oh don't, just tell me.”

"It's good, Sam. You said I looked good in an apron, that's all the payment I need." You smile playfully as you smooth out the creases in said apron.

Her eyebrow quirks, mischief taking over her tone, "Oh, is that so-"

Interrupting your conversation, Jamie paces out of the back room, yellow rubber gloves dripping soapy water onto the floor behind the counter and he crosses his arms. "Who's wage is this one coming out of now, cuzzo?" He sasses, shooting a look at the two of you, and eventually over to Sean in the corner.

You sigh with a roll of your eyes. “Keep your gloves on, Jay. Nothing’s coming out of anybody’s wage," you respond, suppressing a giggle at his mock disapproving glare.

"As if. You just can't resist flirting, can you?" he retorts, feigning a dramatic sigh as he gestures to Sam. "Even old Sean'O over there, don't think I haven't heard about the dates he wants to take you on.”

All three of you turn your heads to the man, who contently continues to read his paper, oblivious to the conversation.

Jamie disappears back into the washroom, leaving you and Sam with each other, "It's rather quiet for a Saturday morning.”

“Stick around, Sam,” you propose, “We’re just getting started.”

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

Every Saturday morning, Sam makes her entrance shortly after Sean, she's soon introduced to your Mother and Bessie herself. And each visit, she'll order the same cappuccino with the same 'one-time only special' apple turnover (that you still insist on making the previous night just for the girl).

You'd never had the chance to get to know Sam so well, the two of you kind of just merely existed to each other outside of your friend group. In under two months, it felt as though she knew you better than yourself, and you couldn't quite pinpoint when it all started to shift. Maybe it was the way she laughed at your jokes, or how her eyes sparkled when she discussed her latest art project. With every cappuccino served and every apple turnover shared, a comfortable intimacy began to blossom.

As you pass in the hallway, you both spare an eager but subtle wave with a grin, the both two of you seeing Saturday mornings at Bessie's as your time, time to treasure and look forward to.

This morning was no different to any other, Sam strolled in with Sean about an hour before the rush hour with their arms linked.

“Hey there, Blondie,” you call out, your voice mingling playfulness with a hint of affection. Sam's head snapped up from the old man, her expression brightening even further as she saw you.

“Good Morning!” she replied, letting go of Sean’s arm and making her way toward the counter, her steps light and bouncy, as if she were floating. “How’s my favourite barista today?”

You glance around the café—Bessie’s is still waking up, the smell of fresh coffee beans wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries baking in the oven. “Just another day of slinging caffeine and baked goods. Can’t complain when I get to see your face,” you say, your heart lifting at the sight of her.

Sean, now carefully navigating a newspaper as if it were a map, chuckles softly at your exchange. “Looks like she’s more than a favourite, eh?” he teases, winking at you before disappearing into a corner booth. You could feel your cheeks heat up, though you quickly swipe it off with a playful eye-roll.

That was until Jamie walked in carrying a large amount of necessary supplies, an amount definitely more than he could handle.

"Well, maybe if my joke of a substitute manager spent less time flirting with every customer to walk through the door and actually helped, all this shit would've been moved 2 hours ago.”

"Well maybe if the bitching pot washer stopped knocking back all of the sugar sachets in the store cupboard, we wouldn't need to order any more boxes of them." You snap back with a roll of your eyes.

His face was a picture, a silent comedy of disbelief and paranoia as he retreated to the storeroom to begin some impromptu camera checks. It did make you wonder why you aren't paid more on his shifts.

Sam slowly sips on her drink, eyeing you as you tidy the counter with a damp cloth and some surface spray, in a complete world of your own.

Her eyes still followed your movements closely, and God could you feel it, it was off-putting but you didn't want it to stop.

You kept your eyes fixed on the counter, the damp cloth squeaking against the laminate as if the repetitive motion could somehow anchor you back to your cool, calm and collected state.

How long had it been? Couldn't be that long, her drink was still half-full. Your concept of time had gone completely out the window. Does it look weird that you're still cleaning this side? Shit, she looks like she's clocked on. Cool, calm, collected.

"So," The blonde began, her voice a low hum that vibrated through the space, "You're not usually this dedicated to the counter. Has Jamie really caught you out? Do you flirt with every customer you serve?" She mischievously questions with a tilt of her head and a sly grin.

The signals are mixing. They're weaving in and out of each other, knotting and knotting. And you've no clue where to start if you were to untangle them. You're unsure, is Sam coming onto you after your many attempts? Is she not freaked out? It seems like she likes it.

Okay, you've got this, cool, calm, collected and charming, piece of piss.

A nervous laugh bubbled up, though you managed to quickly smother it with a cough. "Dedicated is my middle name," you quipped, throwing the damp cloth to the side and leaning against the counter, mirroring her tilt with one of your own.

"Don't worry about Jamie, he just likes to be a windup. Besides," you added, a playful glint entering your eyes, "someone has to keep him in check. As for flirting with every customer? Only the ones with the best taste in coffee... and company." You let your gaze linger on her until it became uncomfortable for even yourself, you've never been one to back down from a challenge.

Sam's grin widened, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes, a side of her you'd never seen before. At school she was the friendly face you'd pass in the corridors, not shy, but not overly confident. She'd rarely been heard of seeing anybody at school, or trying to, she stuck to our group of friends pretty much.

Seeing her speak and behave like this made something bubble in your chest, you've never felt this before.

"Is that so," She blinks slowly, "How about we take this company somewhere else? I'd hate to interrupt you flirting with any other customers.”

You quirk an eyebrow, giving her a slow nod to continue, "You're going to Matt's- Well, Emily's party at Matt's house later this week, aren't you? How about we hang out before?" She suggests, and only now do you see a slither of hopefulness and nerves.

You just stare into her eyes, malfunctioning for a few seconds so you can process her invitation before you combust.

Looking into her eyes sends you into a whirlpool of emotions, a refreshing sight you look forward to. It was intoxicating.

This wasn't the Sam you knew from the school hallways, the one who offered a polite smile and a quick "hey" as she navigated the crowds. The girl who sat in the background when with your friends, a hidden treasure you wish you'd discovered sooner.

This Sam was sharper, more confident, with an undercurrent of something thrillingly new. Nobody you've met has ever compared to this. You weren't sure what to say, the usual cocky banter you used with everyone else felt inadequate, almost childish.

You're definitely not joking with Sam.

"That's of course... um- if you're not too busy on any other dat- things. You know, since you're wooing every customer.”

Finally, she cracked, now you can proceed with acting like a normal human being. "Busy?" you echoed, tilting your head slightly as if considering the possibility; the question came out as a challenge to her, "There's no one I'd rather spend the time with." The words left your mouth before you could censor them and you let them hang in the air, out to dry in your attempt to lay your cards out on the table.

Worry vanished from her face and refilled with relief as she stood up from her seat, "I'll message you later," Sliding on her coat, she paused and stared longingly into your eyes. Neither of you dared to look away, neither of you wanted to in fear you'd waste a single moment away from each other.

"I'll see you soon, Sam" You bid goodbye as much as you hated to do so.

The blonde showed a small smile, she looked timid, which was interestingly contrasted with her previous behaviour. "Bye." She nods, turning away and pushing her way through the door, the small ding of the bell knocking you back to reality, back to work.

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

SAM: Heyy, thought we could meet up after last period. (7:32)

SAM: Mr Peters usually lets us leave early so I could meet you outside your class. (8.23)

YOU: Sounds good, think i should be in room 21. Don't get lost on your way, Giddings ;)

SAM: Wouldn't dream of it sweetie.

Your phone remains in your hand with a smile you couldn't keep to yourself, grinning like a lovesick schoolgirl as you throw a top over your head, your eyes unable to detach themselves from the screen.

“Sweetie?” The word echoed, throughout your shell of a mind, repeating non-stop.

By the time you'd bid your mother goodbye and left your house, you were already 20 minutes late to your first period. Your usual morning routine had gone out of the window and everything was out of place, the only thing you're sure of is that your clothes are in your bag and that you have maths in room 21 last, everything else was clouded with the thought of one Sam Giddings.

ping, ping... ping-ping.

Ignoring the notifications, you neared the school's entrance, driving through the gates and scanning for your usual spot.

Your back pocket vibrates a number of times, so you slide it out and give it a quick check, your eyes widening at the flood of notifications, you didn't even take in who all these were from as you struggled to comprehend the unnecessary amount of messages. Christ, had somebody died or something?

Nope. Just Emily. And a whole lot of her.

The screen was practically vibrating with her trademark 'eye roll' energy, every message a string of breathless words and exclamation points, even some angry-looking emojis.

You sigh, opening the text and scrolling up to see where you'd left off.

EMILY: that fucking bitch! she's just viewed my profile again!

YOU: lord, let's get her shot.

EMILY: no, she went active, immediately viewed my profile, clearly scrolled through ALL of my posts, completely copied my "be the change you mean to see" post from 5 months ago then just logged off!

EMILY: and then she has the audacity to view my profile to check for any retaliation - i mean how pathetic can you get?

YOU: right, i'm going to sleep, feel free to continue yapping but do be warned, you're muted for the next 12 hours.

Wow, is she still going? That was the last message you'd sent. Normally Em just shuts up and writes it all in her little pink diary, 'my 'bestfriend' is such a bitch, but you know who's a bigger bitch??...'

Something along those lines.

You continue to read the next couple of texts, just after you'd switched your phone off and gone to sleep. Each message read aloud in your head in your best Emily voice.

EMILY: god you're like an abusive boyfriend

EMILY: speaking of, jess is currently obsessed over ex-boyfriend arson aaron, you know the one that dropped his cigarette out of a care home and lit their flower bed on fire. what a fucking freak

EMILY: please come back

EMILY: haha i sound like jess

EMILY: if you're reading this, i know you laughed at that ;)

To be honest, you did giggle at that, as high-maintenance as Emily is, she doesn't fail to make you laugh.

There were way more than just 5 messages, it's getting a bit concerning now, what if Emily was getting kidnapped and you were the person she trusted to get her out of it? What are you on about, nobody would want to kidnap Emily Davis.

The next few messages are from earlier this morning, you must've missed them when Sam was occupying your phone, mind and heart.

EMILY: i'll wait out in front of the store by the sushi place

EMILY: oh and don't forget that hairbrush and lipgloss i left at yours

Oh shit, you were meant to pick her up at 7:50 this morning and take her with you to school. And when it comes to Emily, 7:50 means 7:35 on the dot. It's currently 8:39.

Oops.

Nice one, you're late to school, plus your best friend will be on the warpath for the next month.

Opening your passenger glovebox, you search for either a hairbrush or lipgloss to soothe the pain with the dark-haired girl, and just your luck - nada.

You didn't even want the look at the rest of the messages out of guilt, but you forced yourself to since you couldn't bring yourself to get out of the car and walk into your and Emily's first class.

EMILY: i'm here a little early (7:30)

EMILY: okay so i'm just texting you to look busy, please hurry up i look so awkward.

EMILY: you're officially late to pick me up, i'll give you 5 then i start walking

EMILY: ok fine. i guess i'll just WALK to school, and if that isn't bad enough, i'll walk ALONE

EMILY: you CUNT

You really prefer Sam's messages, being called 'sweetie' is slightly better than ‘cunt'.

The guilt punched you square in the jaw, and rattled you like a bell, now you really didn't want to face her. Emily didn't tend to trust much, she isn't like Jessica.

Jess was friendly, if anything she was over-friendly. She didn't have that resting 'get-the-fuck-away-from-me' face that Emily wears so well. In short words, the guys see Jess as easy and Emily as stand-offish.

You rarely let her down and had never seen the consequences.

EMILY: just so you know i luckily haven't been kidnapped (fyi if i was, i'd leave note blaming it all on you)

EMILY: oh look, the sky is blue and I walked to school. completely on my own. like a poor, abandoned orphan

EMILY: don't worry i won't burden you anymore as it seems that's all i am, just wanted to lyk that your favourite mascara is going in the trash

Your guilt slowly washes away as you notice her pettiness creep in.

Your head bangs on the steering wheel and rests there on the hard leather. You'd fucked it.

You lift your head out and just stare at the message box, do you profusely apologise? Threaten her? Disappear off the face of the earth? Yeah, that last one sounds good.

Your fingers hover, should you mention Sam? She did postpone your morning slightly, but then it's just something for her to tease you with. She was already volatile this morning, no need to further complicate it with the mention of prioritising somebody else.

YOU: em, i'm so sorry, you were still muted by the time i woke up (which was very late if it makes things any better). I've just parked up and about to make my way to class.

You waited a solid 8 seconds before huffing, seeing she'd not read the message you moved on to your fourth unspoken option.

YOU: I'll buy you that ridiculously expensive iced coffee you always crave 4 period. And maybe we could go and retrieve my mascara from the trash before it gets contaminated with... trash can juice?"

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

You slowly saunter through the door to your English class, there could only be about 15 minutes left of the lesson, but you wanted to catch Em early.

You scanned the room, immediately spotting Emily, facing the front from the back row, the rigid set of her shoulders a silent declaration of her displeasure. She was pointedly ignoring the open textbook in front of her, instead tracing patterns on the desk with her fingertip. 

A few heads turned as you entered, but most were engrossed in whatever Mr. Harrison was droning on about. You slid into the empty seat beside Emily, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her like a furnace, far enough to avoid being physically assaulted. You could practically see the cartoonish steam billowing from her ears. She didn’t turn her head, didn’t acknowledge your presence beyond a slight stiffening of her spine.

You fiddle your thumbs timidly, "Um, good morning." You mutter, daring to look at the side of her head.

She just snorts, like that of a bull, "Total fucking bitch." You know she doesn't really mean it, in most cases, Emily just loves to be angry at something... or someone.

It was a tightrope walk with Emily, knowing precisely when to placate and when to simply let her rage burn itself out. You decide to go for a gentler approach, opting for a playful nudge on her arm, a move that usually elicits at least a minimal reaction.

"You know, you're the only person that can make 'good morning' sound like a death threat," you say, your voice a soft murmur decorated with a light smile.

Emily's jaw tightened further, a muscle in her cheek twitching, but she didn't bite your head off. Progress. "Maybe because it is a death threat, coming from you," she grumbled, her voice dangerously low. "Slept in, ignored my texts, left me completely on my own in a parking lot, probably forgot I even existed.”

A sigh escapes your mouth as the girl recalls everything you had done, "I didn't forget you, Em," you whisper, ", you were muted on my phone until I parked up, I- I'm just really sorry.”

But there was no response - looks like you'll have to remind her of your bargain.

"And the iced coffee offer is still on the table, plus whatever else you want. My treat." You raise your eyebrows, "And forget about the mascara, we can leave it.”

A flicker of something akin to interest sparked in her eyes, though she resolutely kept her gaze fixed on the desk. Her finger stopped its restless tracing, a subtle shift in her posture indicating that perhaps, just perhaps, she was willing to consider a truce.

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

"Fine," she conceded, her voice still gruff but with a hint of the teasing sarcasm that you knew so well, "but this doesn't get you off the hook. You're still the biggest pain in my ass, you know."

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

The final period at last. You'd never experienced a day this long... or this expensive.

Emily sits beside you in your maths class, performing an over-exaggerated slurp, she'd been doing it since you bought it her at the end of lunch, loud and long slurps from her 9$ iced coffee.

You felt like you'd aged ten years in the span of a single school day, but it was all worth it, Emily went back to gossiping about anybody that walked into her line of view and getting your opinion on her online basket of clothes.

Your mind had been all over the place, finally, you could set it straight, maybe answer a question or two in the lesson, make sure you haven't missed any other messages, anything that Emily had disrupted.

Time passed, and you intensely stared at the clock, each minute passing like an hour.

"Are you even listening to me?" Emily asked, her voice laced with a playful annoyance that warmed you slightly. You had been staring blankly at the ticking second-hand, and you know that she'd been recounting stories of her weekend. "I was just thinking about the quadratic formula, you know, the one with negative 'b' plus or minus the square root and... oh who am I kidding, I was talking about Matt's party, well it's mine really but- you know what I mean.”

"Oh shit, yeah. I forgot about that." Your eyes widen, 10 minutes until the end of the lesson you briefly check, "What are you going to wear?”

Emily's eyes lit up at the question, the storm cloud of her earlier mood seemingly banished by the promise of party attire. "Okay, so, I was thinking... either the black dress, you know, the one with the slit? Or maybe I should go for the blue top and those leather pants? Or, plot twist, what if I actually wore the skirt, the little one? I know, I know," she cut herself off, a dramatic hand flying to her chest, "It's scandalous, but also, fabulous, right?”

She holds her gaze on you, awaiting your verdict, "You do you, I'm sure you'll look great, Em.”

Emily narrowed her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "You're being suspiciously agreeable," she said, her tone laced with suspicion. "Trying to butter me up so I forget about your morning sins? Don't think I haven't noticed you conveniently sidestepping the mention of why you were late. Was it another Josh situation?" Her voice dipped conspiratorially.

You stayed silent, very very awkwardly. You don't want to give her the wrong idea... nor the right idea.

Josh had been interested in you for a pretty long while. 2 years maybe?

You tried it once and dated for about 5 months but it led nowhere. He's a sweet boy, real sweet - but it wasn't for you.

"Whatever, I'm onto you honey," She tilts her head, "I will find out.”

Her eyes don't detach from you, it's unsettling and concerning because you're sure she hasn't blinked for 30 seconds, that was until the bell rung and the students surrounding you began to stand up and disperse, that was when her eyes left you and instead turned to the door.

"Oh, hey Sammy, what're you doing here?" Emily greeted the blonde who stood leant up against the doorframe.

She smiled brightly, offering a quick wave to the dark-haired girl beside you, "Hey, I messaged little ol' barista this morning, you still okay to get ready at mine?”

No. No no no no. This could not be happening, your face froze as you watched Emily's drop. You're in such deep shit. Glancing back to Sam, her face contorts into a look of confusion at the silence hung in the air.

"Oh." Emily nods slowly, turning her head to you even slower, even the teacher had left at this point, just the three of you alone, "I see how it is, you have time to message 'pumpkin spiced latte' over here while you leave me alone and abandoned in the middle of nowhere!”

Your eyes burn holes into the table in front of you, "Like I said, Em, you were muted and I woke up late.”

"Muted?" Emily's voice dripped with sarcasm, each syllable a carefully placed dagger.

"Muted so you could 'bestie' with her in peace, no doubt. Don't even try to deny it, you were probably swapping heart emojis while I was being kidnapped by the parking lot predators!”

Her eyes darted between you and Sam, clearly piecing together the fragments of a narrative that perfectly confirmed her suspicions.

You place your hand further towards her on the table, leaning in cautiously, "Emily, be so for real, you were not kidnapped, Sam and I made these plans days ago and you're seeing Matt soon any-“

You're harshly interrupted, "I don't care." It's brash and quite painful, you'd just made up with her now look at you again.

Silence.

"You know I'm really sorry, Emily. I never meant to forget about you this morning and I promise I'll properly make it up to you.”

She quickly packs up all of her things and stands up, "Whatever - I'll see you later, whore." And she leaves the room, brushing past Sam without another word.

Sam huffs, "God, what's up her ass?"

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam's room spoke volumes, it was just so... her. Photos of her friends and family, animals and a corkboard full of odd tickets and notes. A half-finished sketchbook lay open on the desk, filled with a few sketches of random creatures, items and abstract patterns.

You spent the couple of hours you had after school getting ready, helping each other out with hair and makeup, Sam even let you borrow one of her hairclips. Yeah, she's not getting that back.

You're lying down on your stomach on Sam's bed, facing the girl with your hands holding your head up.

As Sam delicately applied eyeliner in the mirror, humming a tune under her breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over you. It had been a long, confusing day, and the comfortable silence between you and Sam was a much-needed balm.

You watched her, a small smile playing on your lips, appreciating the effortless way she moved, her easygoing nature a constant source of envy. You admired how she could be so unflappable, even after Emily's dramatic exit.

"You know," you began, your voice soft, "This is the highlight of my day - I don't think I want to face Em again today."

She glances at you through the mirror, smirking lightly, "She'll live." And she continues the delicate task of applying her eyeliner, eventually placing it down and making her way over to the bed.

Resting back on her arms, she looks at you, "One question though," You nod in return and she furrows her eyebrows, confused or deeply thinking about whatever she's going to say next, "What did she mean by 'pumpkin spiced latte bitch'?"

You couldn't control your laughter, rolling onto your back holding onto your belly. "Oh, that," you managed, still chuckling.

She lightly punches your arm, patiently waiting for your answer, "Hey! I wanna' know!"

But as you continue to laugh she grows less and less patient, shoving and pushing you, "Sam, I've got to give her credit, she's a bitch, but that was really funny." You speak, calming down.

"She's basically calling you a basic bitch, Sam."

"Oh," Sam replies, her brow still furrowed, a hint of amusement starting to tug at the corner of her lips. "So, I'm basic now, huh?" She reaches over and grabs one of the throw pillows from her bed, playfully holding it up like a shield.

She throws it gently at you, and you catch it, returning the playful gesture with a mock pout. "I wouldn't say 'basic'," you say, getting up from the bed and placing the pillow back, facing her. "More like 'popularly pleasing and undeniably charming'." She raises an eyebrow at your ridiculous explanation.

"She's just jealous of you Sambo. Take no notice."

"Popularly pleasing? Oh, you're such a smooth talker." She leans forward, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You giggle, "What? This just comes naturally when talking to you, would you rather me cuss you out, ho?" You kneel back down onto the edge of the bed.

"Only if you mean it with the utmost affection, bitch," Sam shot back, her grin widening.

God, you can't drag your eyes away from her, it's simply impossible. You found yourself completely absorbed in the moment, basking in the warmth of her presence, the late afternoon light filtering through the window casting a golden glow on her features. You studied the way she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, a genuine and unguarded expression that made your heart feel a little lighter.

Jamie would call it 'pussywhipped' and rip you to shreds for acting like this, but you really don't care. You just want to stay like this forever.

But a party awaits, and you've never been one to miss out on a party.

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam only lives a street down from Matt, so the walk was over quick. You just wanted the Emily greeting over and done with and straight to the drinks.

Music pulsed from the open windows, a mix of bass and laughter spilling out onto the street. You could already feel the party's pull to you.

Sam knocks on the door a few times, to both of your surprise, Mike swung the door open with a wide, wonky smile, "Hey girls!" He slurs, moving to the side letting you through, he clearly must've had one too many pre-drinks.

He leads us to the living room, chatting his head off about the party, there're quite a few here, more than you were expecting. But really, it's Em's party she invites people she despises and their friends.

You soon eye the counter full of drinks, excusing yourself and heading straight towards them. A shot glass rested besides the bottles, on its one, no other cup in sight.

Grabbing the lone glass, you fill it with the nearest bottle labelled over 30% and begin pouring then shotting, you managed to get away with 3 shots before Sam appeared, clearly hot on your heels.

"You not going to pour me one?" She quirks an eyebrow.

You just smile to yourself, concentrating on pouring the drink into the the glass, "Here you go party-girl."

Right down the hatch, you don't think you'd ever seen Sam drink before, but this is the exact wild side you love so much.

As the drinks went down, the music got louder, the crowd got fuller and you and Sam found yourselves somewhat looser as you dance together. Somewhere along the way Josh, Hannah and Mike had joined in the mix, bopping their heads and waving their arms.

For a fraction of a second you see somebody, alone, but soon walking away.

'blue top and those leather pants? Or, plot twist, what if I actually wore the skirt, the little one'

The outfit matched the person, maybe you could patch things up, no better time than the present.

You shuffle your body through the mass of bodies and flashing lights, catching a glimpse of the retreating figure heading towards the back of the house, perhaps the garden. You stumble as you try to follow her, a supporting hand pushing you along the wall, you could feel the air getting fresher as you get closer to the open door.

You poke your head out, nobody on the left - Wow, this air feels so good.

"Are you lost?" A sharp voice calls, making you jump slightly. She's leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she pulls the cigarette from them.

You sloppily raise your eyebrows, your head moving along with them loosely, "No, no. Can I sit?" You're only returned with a brief nod.

You slowly plant yourself onto the wooden step next to Emily, "I am really sorry. I hope this doesn't break our trust, Em. You are a really good friend," You whine, head lolling side to side with your words, but she doesn't respond, she just stares at you, "Oh, and I did laugh at that message, about Jess."

"And Pumpkin Spice, that was funny too." You add, but she just stomps out her cigarette and crosses her arms, "Em, can you please speak - my voice keeps on echoing in my head and I'm not sure whether its you or me."

"God you're a mess," She finally looks at your face as you massage your temples, "Okay, I'm about to do something and we're never going to speak about it ever again."

Your head perks up, but you didn't even get the chance you respond before she threw her arms around you, hiding her face in your arm, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, i've missed you so much. I wasn't even that mad I just haven't been angry with you out of all of our friends - and that's like a stepping stone for me... and you're not a whore" She weeps a hundred mile an hour.

It seems she was just as much of a mess as you.

"Actually, that's a lie, I was pissed this morning - but that doesn't matter." She slurs, "Please still be my friend."

You squeeze her back, "Of course, Emily." Her breath smells exactly like the drink you and Sam had shared, at least your on the same page in more ways than one, "Wow, I'm hearing triple," you managed to slur out, your words thick and heavy.

Emily remained in your embrace, her eyes wide and a little watery. "Triple?" she giggled, a sound that was both familiar and somehow foreign given the circumstances.

Attempting to move away from the girls hold, you're immediately pull back tighter, "Stop. If I move, I throw up." She mumbles into your shoulder.

"No, Em, I think if we stay like this, I might throw up." You detach yourself frantically, standing up and offering your hand out to the Mathlete.

"One last thing," She pauses, "Is there something going on with Josh? I tried to find out but nothing came around.'

You shake your head with a sigh, lightly pressing your lips together but not answering.

"Oh, okay." She takes a couple deep breathes before taking your hand, you stroll throughout the house back into the living room, picking up a fruity looking drink on the way.

The party is slightly more relaxed, more people sitting down, Jess and Mike are basically lap dancing one another in the middle of the room, Matt and the Washington sisters chatting, Chris stared at Ashley from across the room as Sam attempts to hold a conversation with him.

Emily's eyes narrowed, following the sloppy movements of Mike and Jess with a distaste that could curdle milk. "Look at them," she hissed, her voice a low growl, "practically humping on the floor. Honestly, have they no shame?" She rolled her eyes dramatically, a gesture that somehow didn't feel as performative as it usually did. "And the way he's laughing, like a hyena with a drinking problem. It's pathetic."

You continued scanning the room, only half listening to whatever Emily was on about - offering her a nod, hum or a "bitch" every few seconds.

Unknown to you, as Emily complained away, a tall figure made their way over and stood in front of the two of you. "Hey party people!" Josh cheers, his voice booming slightly louder than necessary, effectively cutting through Emily's rant about Mike and Jess.

"Hey Josh," you managed, your voice still thick with the effects of the alcohol.

He grinned back, seemingly oblivious to the tension radiating from Emily, and draped an arm casually over your shoulder, “Having fun?” He asked, his gaze flickering between you and Emily.

Emily just scoffed, turning her nose up at Josh, “What do you want?” She spat, not hiding her animosity,

Josh, although taken aback by her sharp tone, didn't back down. He held his ground, his smile still in place. "Just checking in on my favourite people,” he shrugged, a touch of playful sarcasm in his voice, before winking at you. 

Ugh, you want to throw up so bad. Is he really still trying it on with you? You couldn't even fake a smile now, his weight dipped onto you as a result of his alcohol intake and his breathe reeked of something strong.

Josh’s wink, intended to be charming, felt more like a taunt, a reminder of a past relationship that hadn't quite settled into the comfortable territory of 'just friends'.

You really didn't want to be stuck in the middle between them right now, but you were too drunk to even think, let alone move. “Well, aren’t we special?” Emily huffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

You could feel his breath on your cheek, a potent mix of cheap beer and something you couldn't quite place. You desperately wanted to escape, go somewhere quiet with Sam and just talk, literally do anything besides this.

"So..." He drags with a sloppy grin on his face, "You two are looking cute as ever."

You could feel Emily's eye roll without even looking at her, "Oh my God, somebody kill me." She mutters just loud enough for you to hear though Josh was oblivious.

The cogs in Josh's head were turning as it became evident on his face, eyes zoning out and a smirk slowly forming.

"Maybe we could... you know..." he trailed off, his eyes locking onto yours, a drunken hope glimmering in their depths that switched between you and your friend. He wiggles his eyebrows to the both of you and bites his lip.

You knew what he was going to say, something about 'getting back together' or 'seeing where things go'.

Oh how wrong you were.

Looking for a possible exit, you spot a certain blonde making her way towards you, you make a promise to yourself that if she gets you out of this mess, you'd owe her your life.

She looked so beautiful, her golden hair catching the light in all the right ways, radiantly smiling as she approaches.

Though Emily is a lot less concerned about an exit and more fussed about Josh, "Did you just ask for a threesome Josh!"

You were so focused on Sam you pitched out of the conversation, unaware on what Emily and Josh were talking about.

"Wait, what?" Your eyes widen, diverting from Sam and back to Josh. "What the fuck!"

Your jaw dropped, a mix of disgust and disbelief warring within you. It was so out of pocket, sure he couldn't see straight and has had more shots than you have hot meals, but you did not expect this.

You could practically see the steam rising from her ears as she glared at Josh, who was now sporting a sheepish, almost innocent expression, like a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Sam's arrival was almost biblical, an angel descending from the heavens, although she was probably unaware of the shit storm she just entered.

"Okay, I'm just gonna-" You carefully remove his arm from you and lean him up against the wall behind you, "There you go, it's a no from me. A 100% no, Josh."

Sam had seem to have caught onto the situation, her smile turning crooked and her eyebrows furrowing in concern. She extends a friendly hand that you immediately take, shuffling your way through the crowd.

As you pushed your way through the edges of the party, you could still feel the weight of Josh's gaze, heavy and lingering as he mumbled something about it being a joke, but the buzz of the crowd drowned him out.

The last thing you heard before you left the house was Emily's voice, "Can you fucking believe him?"

The blonde led you onto a bench placed on Matt's porch, the sky was dark and cold, but it didn't bother you. Settled onto the porch bench, a sense of quiet descended, Sam still hadn't let go of your hand, only looking ahead of her. You glanced at her, your stomach flipping when you noticed how the moonlight illuminated her face, highlighting the soft curve of her cheek and the slight furrowing of her brow as she gazed into the distance.

You broke the silence, as much as you didn't want to you also didn't want Sam to overthink it too much, "I mean, it's a little bit funny, don't you think?"

She hums quietly, "A little bit, I guess." Sighing, she turns to look at you, "He was talking about earlier today."

"He was talking about having a three-way with me and Emily earli-" You repeat, confused as to what she's leading onto.

"No, not that. He was telling me how he was going to 'win you back', wink, charm, remind you how you're made for one another." You scoff amusedly, letting her continue, "I wasn't nice to listen to, you know."

You glance at her, an eyebrow raised with a small tilt of your head.

Her head drops, all of a sudden focused on her lap, looking slightly nervous or timid. She picks at a loose thread on her cardigan, her gaze fixed on her free hand, "I kind of... told him that was a terrible idea." A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she admits this, a blush faintly colouring her cheeks. "Because... I really wanted to do it."

Sam, the girl who always seemed to effortlessly radiate confidence, was now a nervous bundle of fidgeting fingers and hesitant glances.

"I couldn't let him ruin our night... our... well, you know." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, which only seemed to highlight how stunning she really was. She sighs, "Whatever this is."

You mentally scold yourself for not responding, but words just can't form. Your thumb swipes over her hand as a substitute for your lack of words.

"You've still got time to- you know, do a better job than Josh." You suggest, trying to stop your smile from beaming, looking at the blonde through your eyelashes.

A soft giggle escaped Sam's lips, finally meeting your gaze, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of nervousness and something else, something that made your heart flutter. "Oh, is that a challenge?" she teased, her voice a low, melodic hum that sent shivers down your spine. The hand still engulfed in hers tightened slightly, a silent question lingering in the air. "Because I'm pretty sure I could do a much better job than that moron."

Her eyes flickered down to your intertwined hands before darting back up to meet your gaze. "I mean," she continued, a bashful smile playing on her lips, "I've been wanting to... well, to do this for a while now."

"Well," you finally managed, your voice a little breathless, "I wouldn't want to deprive you of the opportunity, would I?"

"So, what are you waiting for?"

She leaned closer, her free hand rising to cup your cheek, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through your skin. Her thumb brushing lightly against your skin, sending a wave of warmth through you. Her gaze dropped to your lips for a brief, tantalising moment before returning to your eyes.

As she leaned in, your eyes fluttered shut, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. Her soft breath fanned against your lips, and a million stars seemed to explode behind your eyelids.

The gentle pressure of her lips against yours was a sweet shock, a soft meeting that sent your head spinning. It was different than any kiss you had had before, not rushed or desperate, but patient and tender, like she was savouring the moment. Your hand instinctively moved to cup her face, feeling the soft curve of her cheek, deepening the connection between you.

When you finally broke apart, a breathless hum hung in the air, thick with unspoken words and a thrilling anticipation for what would come next.

"You're a lot better than Josh." You giggle, only earning an eye roll in return.

"Let's not mention that name, please."

Her lips found yours again, this time with a little more urgency, as if reclaiming a space that was rightfully hers. The kiss deepened, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips before sliding in, a spark igniting between you both.

You could feel her smile against your lips, a hand on your waist and another resting on the back of your neck. There was only the sensation of her lips, warm and intoxicating, and the soft press of her body against yours. Every touch sent a shiver of delight down your spine, and you found yourself wanting more, needing more. You tangled your fingers in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to etch this moment into your memory.

The moon above watched, an accomplice to the scene unfolding on Matt's porch, as you and Sam kissed, the world fading into a blur.

"What. The. Fuck." A voice speaks, instantly the two of you break apart a blush creeping up your neck as you turned to see Emily standing at the edge of the porch, her eyes wide and bewildered. Her jaw was slack, a half-chewed pizza slice dangling precariously from her hand. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?" The girl questions, without the intent to get an answer.

"Uh, no, no interrupting. Just, uh… catching up?" You managed, the words sounding weak even to your own ears.

You glanced at Sam, hoping she'd pick up the slack, but her eyes were glued to Emily, panic flickering across her face. The moment stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, filled with unspoken questions and lingering sensations.

Emily, still looking dumbfounded, finally broke the silence with a strangled laugh, a sound that was half-amused, half-agonised. "Right," she said, shaking her head slowly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "catching up. Got it."

She took a large bite of her pizza, the chewing perhaps a way of processing what she'd just witnessed. "Well, don't let me stop you from... catching up more." She wiggled her eyebrows, before turning and walking back towards the house. "I'll just... leave you two to it."

|| - - - - - - - - - - -

"So, I'm assuming you and Emily made up." Sam questions, brushing out her hair and placing a large clip in it.

You nod, massaging in between your eyebrows, "We had a bit of a heart to heart an hour or two into the party."

Sam walks around the bed, sliding in next to you, "A heart to heart, huh?" Sam teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she settled beside you, the bed dipping slightly with her weight. She leaned close, her arm brushing against yours, sending another wave of warmth through you, that familiar flutter returning to your chest. "Was it filled with dramatic declarations of friendship, perhaps a tearful 'I'll never let another man come between us' moment?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "More like an 'I'm sorry I called you a whore' and 'please still be my friend' kind of thing."

"So, now that the Emily drama is behind us," she continued, her voice lowering to a husky murmur, "what are we going to do with the rest of this night?"

The memory of the kiss on the porch, the feel of her lips against yours, flooded back, making your skin tingle with a renewed sense of longing. "Well," you began, trying to keep your voice even, "I have a few ideas." A slow smile crept across your face as you reached out to take her hand, your fingers intertwining with hers.

~ not proofread!!