#was gonna add more but decided you should get some time to shine

[solarsleepless]

"you... knew madison." ashlyn whispers, barely audible over the crackling fire. "didn't you?"

when she looks over, maddox's face is inscrutable, and she doesn't look ashlyn's way, staring into the fire. "yeah." she says, then laughs bitterly. "i'm sure you've already figured who she was to me."

guilt and something else wells up in ashlyn, as she thinks back to it. how madison had looked at maddox with some kind of infatuation, the words that had been spoken between them. madison had wanted maddox, but in more of that psychotic if i can't have you, no-one else can kind of way.

"you were together." she guesses, and maddox lowers her head, a clear answer. "how were you... why would you..."

"date someone like her?" maddox's voice is a little frigid, but it's trembling, too, and when ash glances over, her eyes are glistening a little. "well, i don't know if you know this, ashlyn, but sometimes when you meet people they seem so pretty and nice... and turn out to be a piece of shit."

and. well. ashlyn can't really say anything to that, can she? she's only ever had one boyfriend, and he's genuinely a nice guy, and they still keep in touch. they're still friends. ashlyn's heart aches though, for maddox, for this strange outlaw who just seems so kind.

so she says nothing. watches her. the glow of the fire makes her face look ethereal, almost otherworldly; she looks like a goddess, including the distant coldness. yet she couldn't be as apathetic as a goddess, could she?

ashlyn doesn't know what did it, whether it was the silence or something else, but maddox's eyes flicker to her briefly before she speaks.

"me, EJ, nini and madison—we used to sneak out of our houses and play together. like, hiding behind houses, stealing food, trying to convince the barman we were 21. you know."

no, ashlyn doesn't know—firstly, her parents liked to keep a sharp watch on her, but they were still mostly kind, and they didn't raise their voice often at her, and so she never felt the need to escape, not like EJ did. and secondly... she was too much of a coward, too afraid of breaking the rules. it was how she'd become the sheriff, why EJ hadn't.

but... if ashlyn had been just a little bit braver... she could've met maddox so much earlier. the idea alone takes her breath away.

"but even then, we all knew EJ was going to join you guys." maddox's eyes flicker over and then stay there. "me and madison, we were from the poorer areas, and we knew we were never going to make it out of there. nini was going to join you guys too, you know that?"

awed, ashlyn shakes her head.

"yeah." a hint of a smile goes on maddox's face for the first time. "she wanted to be with EJ, and ricky. but then her and her moms moved. and then some other, much less kind sheriff... well..." maddox grimaces, and a spasm of grief passes over her face and oh. oh, shit. "that obviously immediately soured nini's opinion of the system as a whole, and her and her mom ended up coming back here."

ashlyn covers her mouth, the idea sickening her. she looks over at the tent, where nini is curled up next to miss jenn.

"yeah." maddox has been watching her, but when ashlyn looks back, her eyes immediately stick to the ground. "so, nini joined me and jet, and we formed the cali hunters. val's story of getting involved is a whole ordeal, so i won't say anything here, but. yeah."

"but why?" ash turns to her, desperate. "why did you form the hunters? why do you have to steal in the first place? you know, we could've had you as part of our group, as part of our department... all of this could've been avoided! so why do you decide to steal, instead? i just don't... why, just, why?"

maddox stares at her for a long time, eyebrows raised, very incredulous. then, she scoffs. "of course you wouldn't get it." she pokes the fire with a stick, and something about it, just, her clear distaste of ash's question—it ignites something in ashlyn.

"what do you mean 'you wouldn't get it'?" ashlyn asks, voice sharp. maddox's eyes meet hers, but this time, it's on the end of her glare. ashlyn's never been on the other end of maddox's glare, and it sends an electric tingle down her spine. she pushes that down and concentrates on this conversation. "what wouldn't you get?"

"you don't understand a thing about me." maddox snarls, and for a second, she's scarily reminiscent of madison, all scowls with no sympathy. but then the light flickers, and she's maddox again.

the northern heights may have taken everyone's horses, but what they neglected to consider was that they could take cash caswell's. ej and ash were 100% going to get the brunt of his anger later when he found out, especially when he realized they'd taken his prize horse, lucky, with them.

ej had gone with them, but maddox had been tempted to sit him down instead because of how unsteady on his feet he was. however, the second mazzara, the ex-sheriff had heard about ricky's disappearance (and, judging by his concerned glance maddox's way, her team's disappearance, too) and come immediately, and ej was in good hands with him. nini insisted on coming along, too, despite her obvious concussion, and, well, she was too determined to sit out of this.

also, obviously, miss jenn, the old leader of the previous team of outlaws came too, giving the outlaws that remained a big hug.

carlos was shaken up, obviously, but mostly pissed off. maddox had seen him kick madison's corpse's ribs. she's sure she heard one of them crack. good. anyways, he's so pissed he's bringing his boyfriend into this—sebastian, with strong arms and who is a decent shot, a cowherd who maddox has only, heh, heard of him, but has never actually met him, and he's nice, but clearly is down to beat up some people.

then there's ashlyn caswell. she's not doing too hot, but resolutely tells them she's ready to take northern heights down. (maddox misses the concerned look mazzara shoots ashlyn.)

seb and carlos go on horse together, mazzara and EJ go on a horse together, and miss jenn and nini go on horse together.

which leaves ashlyn and maddox.

when they see everyone else has paired up, they look over at each other, both having experience going long ways on horseback, and both knowing just how... er, close, you get to the other person on horseback.

"i'll..." maddox looks at the horse (they got lucky himself), and clears her throat to hopefully hide the flush that's risen to her cheeks. "i'll go up front."

"yeah." ashlyn clears her throat, too.

maddox gets on first with only a little difficulty, although this horse is a bit taller than what she usually deals with, so ashlyn steps behind her, hands hovering just in case. she nearly does slip, and ashlyn puts a hand on the underneath of her leg. maddox is glad that ashlyn can't see how bright red her face is as she clambers onto the horse and ashlyn lets go immediately.

ashlyn's next, and as she's a little taller (and she actually uses horses a lot, due to the whole sheriff thing), she gets on without a bump in the road.

there's a few moments of hesitation, but then ashlyn slides both hands around maddox waist and oh. yeah, she'd. she'd. she'd really forgotten how close they would be for this. and they have to do this for what, a couple days?

yeah. this'll be fun.

most of the journey is filled with miss jenn checking maps to make sure they've taken the correct direction and nini almost passing out from heat stroke (mazzara had a towel to cover her up and gave her a spare flask of water to keep her going)

when night falls, small little dens for tents are made around one tree they've found in the middle of the whole desert. there's three sets of tents. so two people in each tent. ej is already taking one of the tents with nini to make sure she's okay in the shade, while jenn and mazzara awkwardly began to build the rest of the tents. leaving ashlyn and maddox on fire making duty.

maddie has found a kit for making a fire in jenn's set of stuff, and begins to prep it all while taking sticks and stones from around the one tree in the middle of nowhere.

they sit in silence while the others are busy doing whatever they're doing. maddox stares into the fire with a mix rage and sadness boiling inside of her. she expects ash to say something during the longed silence, but nothing comes. she counts in her mind but after a while she realises ash isn't going to say anything. maybe she's just fallen asleep?

when glancing over at the girl beside her, though, ash is awake. she staring into the fire too, but not in the same way maddie was. her eyes are glassy and filled with sadness and something else. maddox can't think of what's caused her between the whole time of travelling that ash has looked like this before.

"you good, sheriff?" maddox asks, as if the answer wasn't fucking obvious.

ash's eyes snap away from the fire in front of them, glancing over at maddox. there's something about the lighting the flame gave to maddox and the scenario at hand, but ashlyn was not expecting to see such a beautiful girl when she looked over at the outlaw. she was an outlaw, ashlyn told herself, remember that.

"yeah." ash replies quietly, going to look back at the flame. maddox was no genius, but she could tell from a mile away that wasn't the truth.

she rummages in her pockets for a second, making ash furrow her eyebrows as she practically empties her pockets right in front of her. out comes two handkerchiefs, a few rings, a quill and then some pennies. maddox sprays out all of the pennies to get a better look at them in the light before picking up the one that looked the best, holding it out to ash, "penny for your thoughts?"

ashlyn takes a moment to see if maddox was serious, seeing the outlaw's proud face. ash tries to hold it in, but eventually finds herself laughing as she took the penny out of her hand. the laugh must have something contagious in it, because maddox starts smiling, too.

ash stares at the penny in her hand and the laughs die down to a giggle, then silence, mixed with the sounds of the fire’s crackles. "i've never shot a person before." she admits finally. "let alone killed." what. the. fuck. but she was the sheriff. how the fuck has the sheriff never- "was trained how to shoot and aim. but never on a real person."

maddie listens to ash carefully, unsure what to say or do. she'd shot a few people, but never killed up until now. madison had deserved it. that's at least what she had been telling herself.

ash laughs but it's not a laugh she'd let out if something was funny. it was as though she was exhausted. "I've spent the whole of my life training to become a sheriff. but i can't even fire a gun at anyone."

"ash-" maddox begins to speak but when ashlyn looks up at her something changes. tears and guilt flood their tension and it makes more sense now to maddie. ash wanted the best for the town, not to get rid of maddox and the cali hunters. "she was going to kill me, you know?" maddox tries to say it casually, but there's no easy way to put it. "you saved my life-"

"by taking another's." ashlyn added on, looking back down at the coin that maddie had gifted her. "if i can't shoot anyone what's the point in being a sheriff?"

the quietness between them is awkward, and ash is pretty sure maddox doesn't have an answer for her, "I think you're a pretty good sheriff." she eventually says, leaning back in the sand slightly.

ash thinks she's talking utter bullshit, "really? is that why you always come back to rob us?"

maddox grows a smirk for a moment, "nah, i'm just a shithead." before she can think it through she then adds on, "plus i get to see your pretty face, then." the lighting from the campfire makes it hard for maddie to see, but ash can feel herself blushing. fuck. why was she blushing? "danger of taking lives comes with the job, ash." maddie tells her, "but the best sheriffs don't immediately attempt to kill. they work around the situation. probably arrest one or two outlaws..."

"they seem to enjoy blowing holes in my cell walls, though." ashly comments, reminding maddox of the last time she was held up in slammer.

"yeah..." maddie just smiles at the memory, "sorry 'bout that..." and then the silence between them returns, with the two of them just staring at the fire once again. ash wasn't a bad sheriff, she had saved someone's life. maddox's life. but was it worth madison's?

[manicpixiefelix]

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

[slxsherr]

Tonight I Feel Like More

read part I here and part III here

pairing: charlie walker x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you attend your first ever stab-a-thon, and finally make it through all of the movies, so charlie gives you a reward under the guise of keeping you warm.

wc: 2014

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of oral sex (m! receiving), public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of crying, creampie

a/n: reader is described as being taller than charlie while wearing heels i'm sorry if you're short just pretend you're wearing ridiculously high heels 😭

Since your first movie night with Charlie, it’s been his mission to finish all of the Stab movies with you. Which wouldn’t be so hard if you could get past Stab 5, but the whole time travel plot confuses you, which means you get bored, and Charlie has come to realize that your boredom manifests in a rather, promiscuous way. 

The first time you only lasted twenty minutes before you were pulling down his pants and busying yourself with his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks until you were swallowing his load. After that, the last thing on either of your minds’ was the movie. 

He tries again and again, but somehow, someway, you get lost. He thinks he should feel lucky, having a girlfriend as frisky as you, and for the most part he does. But he’s worried, with Stab-A-Thon coming up he knows you’d want to go and support him at his last film festival. 

What worries him is that at some point throughout the night you’re gonna get bored, and then he’ll have to find a secluded area of of wherever they decide to throw the party to fuck you silly. A problem he never thought he’d have, but he keeps it in mind while discussing venue options with Robbie. 

Eventually they settle on an abandoned farm, far enough to not be bothered by adults, but not too far to the point where the drive is a hassle. They scope out the farmhouse, making sure it’s not too rundown for a gathering of drunk teens. It’s their last year of high school, last year running Cinema Club, last time throwing Stab-A-Thon, and Charlie and Robbie want to go all out. 

On the day of, a few more involved club members help Charlie and Robbie set up for Stab-A-Thon, handling decorations and seating while Charlie and Robbie focus on the audio and visual. Before people start arriving, Charlie adds some yellow police tape to the stairs leading up to the hayloft, spewing bullshit about not wanting a drunk idiot to fall when someone asks, not wanting to say the real reason. 

As soon as the sun falls over the horizon cars start to pull up, teenagers filing in with drinks, talking over the loud music as they wait for the movies to start. You arrive with Kirby and her friends, visibly annoyed by Jill and Trevor fighting behind you, most likely having had to listen to them argue the whole ride over. 

You find Charlie before he spots you, quickly making your way to him through throngs of people, desperate to get away from relationship drama, not wanting it to rub off on you and Charlie. The closer you get to him, the easier it is for him to notice you. You’re dolled up more than usual, pretty makeup and hair he’s gonna feel guilty about ruining later, a short dress barely reaching past your ass, and matching heels that have you standing taller than him. 

Most guys would probably be upset by that, but he can’t find it in himself to care when you slot yourself at his side, leaning in to give him a kiss. Your lipgloss is sweet, strawberry or cherry if he had to guess, a thin layer sticking to his own lips when you pull away. Your smile is even sweeter, eyes shining when they meet his, and he’s reminded of the phrase ‘the lights are on but no one’s home’, a perfect description of what goes on in your head. 

He can tell you planned your outfit for fashion over function, which is the case for most of your outfits. If you’re not whining in his ear to sneak off he’s sure you’ll be complaining about being cold. But he lets those thoughts fade, focusing instead on your warmth at his side, offering you a sip of his drink. 

“What time do the movies start?” You ask, face scrunched up at the bitter taste of whatever alcohol was poured into the jungle juice. 

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Charlie answers, pulling his hand out of his pocket to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. 

“Actually, we should probably get up there and do our kickoff,” Robbie says, seeing the seats mostly filled in. 

“Be right back,” Charlie whispers to you, following Robbie to the projector screen. 

Their introduction is short and sweet, poking fun at the franchise’s clich��s, while also promoting underage drinking. The crowd cheers, ready for the movies to start, quoting the iconic opening scene as Charlie and Robbie make their way to the back of the crowd to the projectors. You’re sitting on some bales of hay set up for seating, thin blankets keeping the itchy straw from irritating your skin, confusion etched in your features when you see Charlie walk out of the room instead of joining you. 

Before you can follow him, Robbie takes a seat next to you, going into a rant about the movie that you only half listen to, convinced Charlie has given you the same rant during one of your private movie nights. You don’t have a chance to interrupt him and ask about Charlie though, jerking away when you feel an arm around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Charlie laughs at your reaction, sitting down next to you. “Got you a drink,” he says, offering you a red cup. 

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him, leaning in for another kiss. 

“Uh-uh, watch the movie,” he says, refocusing your attention to the screen. 

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, watching the movie silently. The two of you sip on your drinks, moving closer together as more people join you on the bales of hay. By the time the second movie starts, you’re forced into Charlie’s lap after getting up for refills and losing your spot. Not that you mind, sat sideways on his lap and tucked into his chest, you’re surprisingly able to focus on the movies for once. 

He entertains you, imitating the killer’s voice and repeating the dialogue for only you to hear, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers the lines. Your giggles are muffled by his chest, his playfulness and the steady beat of his heart comforting you through the jumpscares and violence that you’re still getting used to. 

The two of you allow yourself to relax into one another, comfortably watching each movie as the crowd slowly dwindles. You’ve traded your jungle juice for soda, caffeine and sugar slowly sobering any tipsiness as dawn approaches, eyes blinking slowly as you both fight off sleep. You’re so close, the closest you’ve ever been to finishing all seven Stab movies, and he can’t help but bounce his leg nervously, your whole body shaking from the force of his movement. 

“Stop that,” you mumble, and he does, but it’s not long before his leg is shaking again. “I thought you’ve seen all of these before, shouldn’t I be the nervous one?” You tease him when he still doesn’t stop. 

“Shh, pay attention,” he scolds you, because it’s the final act of the last movie, and you’ve come so far. 

You don’t put up a fight, attention easily grabbed as the kill scenes get messier and the main cast dies off one by one. Charlie’s buzzing with excitement during the last few minutes of the movie, watching for your reaction. Your reaction is dampened by your exhaustion, but even the slightest tell of shock has his lips stretching into a smile, holding you closer as the credits begin to roll. 

“Wow,” is all you say, stretching out in his arms. 

“Well, how do you feel?” He asks you, leaning over you as you lay back. 

“Scared, tired, a little cold,” you answer, his hair tickling your skin as his face nears yours. 

“Hm, well let’s go to bed then,” he says, sitting up and pulling you up with him. 

You follow him to a set of taped off stairs, a thin blanket dragging on the straw covered floor behind him. He holds your hand all the way up the stairs, not wanting you to trip in your heels, spreading the blanket out over the loose stack of hay. The two of you fall onto your makeshift bed for the night, or early morning, laying on your sides as he pulls your back to his chest.

“How about now?” He asks, arms holding you close to him. 

“Less scared, less tired, more cold,” you answer, wishing you had also grabbed a blanket.

“Let me warm you up then,” Charlie says, an impish smile on his face as one of his hands moves between your thighs, tickling your skin as his touch trails up.

“Really? Right now?” You ask, and he can’t tell if you’re excited or not, words slurring from exhaustion. 

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, teasing your inner thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up. 

“Of course I want you to,” you say, his advances reassured as you open your legs for him. 

Since your first night together, both of you have learned a lot about each other’s sexual preferences. Although Charlie doesn’t have much experience, he found that it doesn’t take much to turn you on. You’re rather needy, and despite being the one guiding him most of the time, he’s the one doing all the work. Not that he minds.

When he dips his fingers past the waistband of your panties, he’s not surprised to find that you’re already wet, teasing your clit with soft circles as his other hand gropes your tits over your dress. Your hips buck in pleasure, thighs closing around his hand as your leg falls from the force of gravity, ass barely grinding back against him as you seek friction. 

“You did so good tonight,” he says, undoing his jeans to pull them down. “Finally watching all of the movies like I asked,” he says, thick head of his cock stretching your slick walls as he pushes into you, your panties merely pulled to the side. 

“Anything for you, baby,” you say, pushing back against him, needing to feel him deeper.

His hands hold your hips in place as he thrusts into you, building speed and tempo as he stifles his groans by marking your neck. You bite your fist, painfully aware of the people asleep just beneath the hayloft, struggling to keep your voice down. It’s unfair, Charlie thinks, how good you feel wrapped around him, milking him as you get closer to orgasm. 

“What’s that?” He asks, hearing you mumbling something through your fist. 

“Harder, please,” you moan, hiding your face in the blanket.

He holds you against him tighter, hips bruising your ass as he fucks you harder. It’s almost like you’re running away from him, grasping at the straw beside you, failing to silence your moans. He has to move one of his hands over your mouth, hearing your voice begin to echo, his other hand holding your hips in place. 

Where once the cold nipped at your skin, you’re now sweltering, Charlie’s body heat warming you up from the inside out. With the way he’s pounding into you now, there’s not much you can think about aside from the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, how it makes heat flare in your belly, and that you’re so fucking close. You don’t realize you’re crying, your vision having gone blurry a while ago, but now you’re seeing stars, hurtling over the edge as he chases his own pleasure.

You’re limp, twitching in his hold, drool and lipgloss smeared against the palm of his hand. It doesn’t take long for him to finish after you, grinding his release into you as he fills you with his hot cum. You whimper from the overstimulation, breathing heavily as both of you ride out the high.

“Goodnight, baby,” Charlie whispers, arms relaxing around you as you both begin drifting off to sleep, still buried deep within you.

[usernameforaboredcat]

I’ve Got My Eye On You (Law X Blind!DoflamingosDaughter!Reader)

He had wished he had met a girl like her in a different time, a different way, with different people, with more time. More time for her.

Warning: SPOILERS for Laws Backstory

It was early, too early to be awake. The sun was barely up, the sky still a dark colour before it could rise too high. I had opened the door to the library, not hearing a single sound. Getting in some early morning studying before any of my training.

"Hello?".

I shiver as I hear a soft voice. I look around, not seeing anyone. Am I going crazy? "Is someone there?". The voice calls out again. I find the voice, seeing a girl sitting by the window sill. "I can hear your footsteps, please tell me who's there". She says in a scared voice. "Who the hell are you?". I finally ask her. She turns to look at me, confusion in here face. "I don't think I know you, please tell me your name". She requests. "It's...Law". I answer her. She smiles softly at me. "I'm (Y/n), it's nice to meet you". She says happily. "I've heard the adults talk about you, when they think I'm not listening". She tells me. "So, why are you here?". She asks, suddenly changing conversation topic.

"Just some early studying". I answer. "You?". I ask. "This room has the best spot in the house to feel the sunrise". She answers. "Why not just go outside?". I ask. "I'd get lost". She simply answers. 'Seriously, how could she get lost so easily?'. "You see-". She smiles, then waving her hand over her face. "I'm blind!". She says happily. 'Shit'. "I can't go outside by myself or else I'd get lost, and I don't want my daddy to get worried about me". She explains. "Your father?". I ask her. "Yeah, he's the captain". She answers. 'HER FATHER IS DOFLAMINGO!? NO WAY!!'. "Tell me, what do you think of him?". She asks me. "He's my teacher, what else is there for me to say?". I respond. She hums, turning away to face the window. "What do you think about uncle Cora?". She asks. I tsk at her question. "He's a clumsy idiot, he hates kids so why would you care?". I ask her back.

"Come, sit with me". She requests. "The sun will be rising soon, it's nice and warm". She adds. I decide to join her, walking over and taking a seat next to her on the little sofa in front of the window. She moves to lean against the window, resting her arms and chin on the ledge. "It's been a long time since I've seen a sunset, I'm scared I'll eventually forget what they look like". She admits. She turns to face me, I look deep into her eyes. "You're still here, right?". She asks. "Yeah, I'm here". I reassure her. She smiles happily, laying her cheek on her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm just used to people leaving. Since I can't see I don't notice when they leave". She explains. "I don't get why they do that, like I'm not gonna forget that they left but...I never have the courage to bring it up". She adds.

"You said before that you could see, what happened?". I ask her. "I-...". She hums. "I ate a devil fruit that my father gave me". She answers. "He gave me the fruit and I ate it, seconds later I couldn't see a single thing. Asking him 'who turned off the lights? why is it so dark?' and he figured it out, explaining that I had lost my vision. With eating a fruit you loose the ability to swim, I lost that and my vision. That was 2 years ago, I was only 5". She explained. 'So she's only 7'. "So what's your power then?". I ask. "Funnily enough it's called the Vision Vision Fruit, I can see visions of the future when I touch someone skin to skin. Daddy doesn't let me touch anyone, he doesn't let me see anyone's future other than his". She explains. She turns away, resting her head to look out the window again. She smiles softly as the sun finally rises high enough to shine through the window, enjoying the warmth.

"We should chat like this every morning, it's nice to finally talk to someone".

~

And that's what I did. I met with her every morning and we'd chat, she mainly talked to me and I would listen. I could never tell her about my little remaining time left, or let her touch me so she'd know. I couldn't tell her or let her see my death, I couldn't do that to her. Despite her disability, she was always too happy and positive for her own good. My three years are almost up, I feel guilty to leave her but there isn't much I can do.

I walk into the library, walking straight over to where (Y/n) usually sits. I walk over, smiling softly when I see her. She's sitting in a fetal position, smiling with her head tilted to the side slightly. 'Damn she's pretty'. "(Y/n)". I call, she sits up and faces towards me. "Law! You made it! I was worried for a minute that you where still asleep and I'd have to wait for knows how long". She giggles. 'God she's cute'. "I could never, you know that". I tell her, walking over to sit next to her. As if feeling my body heat, she leans over and rests her head on my shoulder. "I know I know, but I never know you might just be tired and need a little more sleep. You do study and train a lot, you're allowed to rest". She tells me. A hot, wet drop hits my shoulder, my eyes widen. 'SHIT! SHE'S TOUCHING ME!'. I push her off, seeing her looking at me crying. "Law...". She whimpers out.

Her tears continue to roll down her face, her eyes wide. "Yeah...I know". I admit. "I know I don't have long left, I didn't want to tell you". I sigh. "Law". Sher whimpers get louder. "I don't...I don't want you to leave me". She cries. "WAAAAAAAAHAHAAAA!". She cries out loudly, sobbing. I don't know what to do, all I can do is watch her. Let her cry, let her get out all her feelings and emotions.

BAM!

The door to the library opens, I look over to see Corazon standing in the doorway. The loud noise makes (Y/n) jump, the loud noise scaring her and making her cry more. He walks over to us, looking down at us. I scowl up at him. 'Go away! She doesn't need you right now!'. He kneels down, placing his hand on (Y/n)'s back. She sniffles, feeling the hand on her back and turning to look up. "Uncle Cora?". She asks, he gives her a simple soft pat to confirm. "Uncle Cora *sniffle* please *sniffle sniffle* please save Law! I don't want him to die". She begs him, reaching up to clench his shirt sleeve as she starts to bawl again. He looks over to me, I glare back up at him. Suddenly, he grabs me by the shirt and scoops (Y/n) up into his arms. "Hey! Put me down!". I snap at him. "Shut it Law!". (Y/n) snaps, my eyes widening at the first time she's ever yelled at me. "Uncle Cora is gonna fix you, and you'll be all better, and we'll be together forever!". She cries. I huff, rolling my eyes and cross my arms.

~

A lot had happened.

Shortly after leaving the house, (Y/n) fell asleep comfortably in Corazons arm, sleeping against his chest. He had taken me hospital to hospital, trying his hardest to find someone that could help me. Fail after fail, he kept trying his hardest to find someone. Why was he trying so hard anyway? Because he secretly cared about me? Or because his niece begged him to while balling her eyes out. Her and I stayed by his side for a while now, (Y/n) not leaving his side and I not leaving hers. He was...nice. No wonder (Y/n) seemed annoyed by my answer from years ago. It felt nice, the three of us together happily

Until that day in the snow.

His smile printed into my brain, (Y/n)'s cries ringing in my ears. She tried her hardest to bang her way through the chest, screaming and crying. I knew what she needed, she needed Cora-san to place his hand on her head and tell her that everything was going to be okay. She needed protection. She needed comfort. Nothing I could give her. All I could do was take her hand in mine, she turned to me with shock in her eyes. I know she saw something in my future, I don't know what. But I didn't want to know. I didn't care. She jumped at me, clinging me as she balled her eyes out. All I could do was hold her, be strong for her when all I wanted to do was scream and cry.

After sometime, she fell asleep in my arms. Tears running down my cheek as I hold her close, clinging to her warmth. The chest we where in had shaken and we where taken to who knows where. I slid her out my arms, peaking out the chest to see we've moved. I shake her awake, seeing her red puffy eyes. "Law?". She hums. "We need to leave, we can escape and never have to deal with this again". I tell her. "Law...I'm scared". She whimpers out. "We have to go, or we'll die". I tell her. 'I'd die, you'd have your dad hovering over you for the rest of your life'. "We'll be fine, I promise". I promise her. She nods.

I grab her hand, she clenches my hand tightly as I take her out the chest. A sudden jolt on my arm makes my eyes widen, turning around to see a familiar tall man standing over us, his arm on (Y/n)'s upper arm. "There you are sweetheart, where do you think you're going?". Doflamingo, he asks his daughter. "LET HER GO!". I snap at him. I try to pull her away from him as hard as I can, but she lets go. "Run!". She cries. "Please! Go!". I break out into a sprint, running for my life. "RUN ALL YOU WANT KID! YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED!". Doflamingo yells. "LAW! SURVIVLE! LIVE! LAAAAAAAAW!".

~

I jolt up out of bed, trying to catch my breath as sweat covers my body. 'That dream again'. I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair. "Captain!". I hear through the other side of my private living quarters door. "We'll be arriving at Dressrosa soon". Penguin tells me through the door. 'It's been 16 years, I need a break'.

~

The city is as loud and filled as I expected, I'd rather just go back to my study or dealing with whatever Luffy thinks about dragging me into again. But, my body freezes, my eyes widen, my blood runs cold. Those eyes, that hair, that damn smile. A young woman stands at a bakery stall, making an order. Her covered body in a turtle neck long skirted dress with gloved, a cane in one hand. 'No way, it has to be'. I watch as she reaches into her bag, seemingly struggling to find her berries. I walk over, placing the berries she needs on the little counter. "I'll take care of it". I tell the baker, he nods and takes the money.

(Y/n) looks up at me with a worried upset look. "Oh no no it's fine, I can pay for it myself". She tells me in an upset tone, waving her hands in defense. "Saves you from struggling to find the right amount of money". I tell her. She smiles softly, giggling. "Well aren't you sweet then! Thank you so much, Mr...uh...". She trails off. I don't blame her from not knowing my voice, my voice hasn't exactly stayed the same over the past 16 years. Speaking of, puberty did her amazingly. Back when she was 7 she was adorable and sweet, now she's absolutely gorgeous and stunning. She'd be what? 23 now?

"Law...Mr.Law".

Her eyes widen at my words, her lips quivering. "Law? As in-". "Trafalgar D. Water Law?". I ask. Her hands cover her mouth, tears building up in her eyes as she looks at me. Well, looks at my chest. "Eyes up a bit, I'm not as short as I used to be". I tell her, a soft smile. She tilts her head up, looking me dead in the eyes. "Sorry it took so long to see you again, I'm sure you thought I was dead". I apologize to her. Her hands leave from her mouth to sit on her chest, smiling brightly. "Not for a second, I knew you would come back". She tells me. "That day, the last day I saw you. When you touched my hand, I saw you in the future, you'd made friends, you're happy". She explains, her hand touching my arm and sliding down to taking her glove hand in mine. "I saw you, you had grown up so much". She giggles. "And quite the looker, I was very exited to SEE you again". She states playfully, causing me to chuckle.

It has been so long since I've seen her and been with her, it felt like a nostalgic breath of fresh air. She takes her hands away from my, taking her gloves off and tucking them away to take my hand back in hers. "Your hands are so big and warm, I wish to hold them forever". She hums to herself, lacing her fingers in mine. Her skin felt so soft and silky, like a cloud. She hums and smiles to herself, closing her eyes. I know she sees something with me, and it makes her happy. "And from what I can see, my wish will be filled". She says happily.

"But first, tell me about that silly black haired guy! The stretchy one!".

"I'd rather talk to you about anything else".

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What happens in the Apothecary... doesn’t stay in the Apothecary.

When the Core 4 return on the Isle, Harry is just finishing his shopping in Maddy’s Apothecary. It is only natural he decides to steal their bikes and run. It is... probably less natural that Maddy decides to join him and Gil on the ride.

I borrowed Malvina from @tiredflowercrown cos I’ve got plans for this and I think Audrey and Chad would have absolutely marvelous time babysitting Malvina Mim.

Harry stalks through the hovering shelves of Maddy’s Apothecary, idly pushing the odd item just slightly out of its proper place, and only raising the corners of his mouth in a parody of smile when darling Maddy hisses at him. 

Gil sighs as Maddy’s hisses slip into ancient curses – probably – and Harry doesn’t know what’s the fuss about, really.

He’s gonna pay.

Eventually.

Probably. Maybe.

But even so: Uma is not there to see. Uma is not there, and so Harry hardly finds it in himself to care.

He blinks away the memory of her and sweeps away a little package of poisonously coloured candy; it lands with a dull thud. (It doesn’t break and shatter, scatter all around. He isn’t suicidal enough for that, is he?)

„Oops,“ he says with approximately no regret in his voice as he grins at Maddy.

Fine, so maybe he was lying earlier, but can you blame him? There’s no one to hold him accountable for his lies. No Captain to answer to.

For that thought, another package joins the first one on the floor, and a phial disappears into his pocket. He doesn’t bother reading the label.

Gil says something that must be an apology to Maddy, who in turn points to the rules scrawled violently vivid over the grim wall.

We do not give first aid.

We do not give refunds.

Do not ask about correct doses, do not ask about opening hours.

Keep your relationship problems outside. 

Harry giggles: As if Maddy would actually throw him out, what with all the profit he’s been making her lately.  She’s a bitch, alright, but she does have a mind for business, that she does.

She screeches something that sounds suspiciously like „Go have your existential crisis somewhere else and stop sulking about your non-existing love-life in my shop,“ and Harry slips another vial into his pocket.

And he won’t be paying – that’s just what she gets for the love life comment.

Cold-hearted bitch.

Harry gives it a moment of consideration and sneaks another – different – package into his pocket. Maybe if he mixes all this stuff together, it’ll be worth a damn. Worst case scenario, it kills him, and considering his current predicament, Harry figures there are worse things.

He figures not to push his rotten luck any more and disappear the english way before Maddy notices the disappeared proviant; he turns to Gil to tell him so.

„We’re–“ he says before he notices unusual movement outside. It’s barely recognisable through the cloudy, scratched window, but Harry knows a traitor when he sees him. Not that he could mistake the red-black-white of the youngest deVil anyway, no one’s clothes shine like that on the Isle.

Disgusting, if he can say so.

He twists his features into a smirk as he finishes a different sentence than he started: „– going on a field trip!“

A heartbeat of silence, and then: „Maddy, darling, you should join us.“

„And why the fuck would I do that?“

„Also, where are we going?“ adds Gil.

Well, Harry is only too happy to explain: „Oh, why. The traitors are back. They just run by on bikes – we’re gonna nick them and we’re gonna be out in a nick of time, we’re gonna find Uma!“

„Amazing,“ deadpans Maddy, insultingly unimpressed, „Go do that and get the fuck out of my shop.“

Harry blinks as the possible scenarios shift through his mind and no, no, he can’t just jump out there and expect his Captain to do all the work. He ought to figure out some means to find her; he zeroes on Maddy. 

She’s magical, innit, she could find Uma–

She could find Uma, and therefore she must go. He tuts in response to her crude comment and raises on hand: „Oh, sunshine. We can get out. Out is Mal. And magic,“ he raises both of his hands, as if weighting the words, „Mal. Magic. Perfect revenge.“

„…I’m listening,“ allows Maddy reluctantly.

„Amazing,“ Harry states with such amount of poison it rivals some of Maddy’s substances, „Now lets hitch a ride and get the fuck out of there.“

He stalks to the exit, Gil half-a-step behind, but Maddy’s voice stops him.

„Wait.“

Great, what the fuck does that harpy want now?

„Malvina!“ she screams at the top of her lungs, „Move your bones and get up there this instant.“

A scrawny figure scurries just barely into sight and Maddy pulls her into a ray of light. The child blinks in confusion as Maddy says „We’re going out,“ with a decidedly nasty smirk.

Ah, that’s terrific. That little bloodsucker is coming along for the ride – Harry glares at the Mims and mutters curses in a language he thinks the kid doesn’t understand yet though Maddy does, and he makes sure she hears, too. 

She only smirks more as she says: „And if you complain, Hook, I’ll curse your mouth shut so bad not even your beloved Uma will be able to fix it.“

Harry sneers at her. He‘s sure Uma could fix it. She might just decide to wait for that a little bit.

And either way: „Let’s go, there’s no time to loose.“

„No time to die like today.“

„Cheers.“

[giggly-squiggily]

Nailed It! (Blue Lock)

Heyo! It's been a minute since I've written for Blue Lock! After fangirling over Bachisagi with the wonderful @intheticklecloset- this fic came to be! :D I hope you like it friend! :3

Summary: Bachira finds fake nails and decides he wants claws. Shenanigans ensue.

Bachira all but threw the bag in his face the second he came in. “I bought claws!”

“Claws?” Chigiri asked once his initial shock wore off. Bachira grinned as he dug into the bag.

“CLAWS!” He cried once more, presenting the pack of stick on nails. Plain in appearance, they shined under the fluorescent lights of the facility. “See?”

“Pfft-” The redhead giggled, taking the box and examining them. “Claws indeed. Why’d you buy fake nails?”

“‘Cause.” Bachira didn’t add more, dumping the remains of his goodies across the futon. An assortment of colorful nail polish and stickies fell out. “I wanted claws!”

“....You want me to do your nails?”

“Yeah! Give me claws!”

Chigiri blinked. Then he laughed, nodding. “Alright, I’ll give you ‘claws’.” Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

~~~

Unsurprisingly, Chigiri was amazing at this stuff.

With the precision of a surgeon, he held Bachira’s hands in his own as he carefully placed each fake nail. His hair was loosely tied back, falling over his shoulder as he leaned in to check if they were straight. “Good- you don’t want these crooked- it hurts.”

“You’ve worn claws before?” Bachira smiled happily, kicking his feet under the table as he watched. His other hand was already adorned with fake nails. The urge to tap them against the table and make a clicky sound was strong, but Chigiri insisted he waited until he had them painted.

“No- I’m allergic to the adhesive. Makes my fingers turn red.” Chigiri wrinkled his nose as he adjusted the remaining finger. “My sister wears them all the time though- I used to help her out. She could never get them to stay.”

“Hm.” Bachira nodded. “Do you paint your nails?”

“Not lately. They always chipped after practice. Hopefully these will stay on.” Just before Bachria’s turn, the dribbler insisted on painting his friends. Chigiri’s fingers were now coated with a surprisingly even set of pink.

Except for his ring fingers. Those were orange. “Kuni nails.” Bachira winked, making him blush and roll his eyes.

“I’m a good claw painter! And you are too- oooo.” Bachira forgot what he was saying when the first layer of blue touched his nails. It looked so much like Isagi’s eyes. “That’s pretty!”

“You picked them out- I assume you knew what you were doing.” Chigiri gave him a teasing brow raise. Heat creeped up Bachira’s collar as he averted his gaze, watching the redhead work. “Don’t squirm- you’ll mess up the design.”

“Design-” Bachira leaned forward to look, only for Chigiri to push him back in his seat with a pointed glare. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know you could draw!”

“I er..can’t. I can make squiggles though.” Chigiri laughed softly, making Bachira smile. “I hope you don’t mind them.”

Bachira took his hands, posing them the way his mom did whenever she got her own nails painted. Stripes of yellow cut through the blue on his ring fingers, the rest a beautiful application of blue. Chigiri even managed to put some of the sticky gems on them, really making them pop.

“I love them!” He breathed, giggling as he hugged the other. “Thanks Chi-Chi! I’m gonna wear them forever!”

“Heh, no problem. C-Careful, they’re not dry yet!” Chigiri called after him as Bachira ran off, giggling the entire time.

He couldn’t WAIT to show Isagi!

~~~

“Look look! My claws!” Bachira shoved them in pretty much everyone’s face, wiggling his fingers for the full effect. As soon as they were dry he was waving them around, clicking them against water bottles and anything that would make noise. Kunigami jokingly told him he should do ASMR with them- Bachira tried but was far too loud right off the bat.

“Wow, look at those. They’re pretty!” Isagi giggled as he took Bachira’s hands, taking them in. “Chigiri painted them for you?”

“No, I did.” Raichi called out, earning a small burst of giggles from the others. His own nails were painted black- courtesy of said redhead. “I’ll do yours next, Isagi. Give me your digits!”

Isagi rolled his eyes as he turned back to Bachira, finding him no longer there. “Bachi-”

Something blunt but ticklish trailed against his neck. He shuttered with a sharp yelp, diving forward. “Ahah!”

Silence, the rest of Team Z looking at him with looks of both curiosity and amusement. Isagi felt his face burn.

“Ooo…” Bachira cooed from behind, something dangerous in his tone. “Was that…”

Isagi had two options. Stay and take it or run and get it anyway.

He opted for the latter.

“Isagi!” Bachira called after him as he took off, flying over futons and people as he bolted out the door, the dribbler hot on his trail. “Come back here!”

Nope, no way! Not happening! It was bad enough that Bachira knew his worst tickle spots. With those nails…

He was gonna kill Chigiri. He’ll plan his revenge later.

For now, he needed to RUN-

A dead end! He turned with wide eyes as Bachira began a slow ascent, glittery nails wiggling with devious intent. “Isagi~”

He looked both ways, knowing it was useless. Bachira had him cornered. “Bachira! Bachira- now wahahit just a mohohment!”

“No can do! The monster’s telling me to get you, so here I COME!” Bachira charged, easily trapping his boyfriend against the wall as his fingers skittered and danced against the exposed skin of his neck. “Tickle tickle tickle!”

“AH! Ahehahahahahhaha! Bahahhachihihihirahahha! Heahhahahahahha!” The other boy squealed as he sank to the floor, half trapped by Bachira’s legs as the other pressed into him. Those dastardly nails danced against his skin, sending waves of sensitivity across his nerves. “Wahahahahait, wahahhait- thhehehehey’ll fahahhahahall oohohohohohofff!”

“Silly Isagi- I know they will! That just means I’m gonna have to use them to their fullest potential!” Bachira giggled, tugging his boyfriend gently until he was half-lying, half sitting up against the wall. As he went down, a strip of skin revealed itself, giving Bachira a new opening.

“Bahahahachi- Bahahchi- WHAHAHHAIT!” The brunette all but shrieked when Bachira’s new “claws” found the soft skin of his waist, gently tracing the skin along his lower ribs and sending him through the roof. “DOOHOHOHON’T NOOHOHOHT TEHEHEHEHERE!”

“Oo, someone’s ticklish! Tell me- does it tickle more or less with the nails?” The bob-cutted player snickered as he stuck a hand up Isagi’s sweatshirt, clawing at his skin as Isagi squealed and thrashed against the floor. “I bet it’ll tickle way more if I do this~” He dragged them slowly, watching as his boyfriend arched and wheezed at the feeling. “Am I right, Blue Skies?”

“BAAHAHCHIHIHIHIRAHHAHA! GEHAHAHAH PLEHAHAHHASE!” Isagi was sure he was going to die- he was starting to see stars and his body felt light. If he were being honest, he didn’t mind it all that much.

Then Bachira yelped and pulled his hands away and his ascend to the afterlife came to an abrupt halt. “Ehehehahha..yohoohu gohohohod?” He gasped out, hands coming around his belly as he weakly looked up.

“Ow…I didn’t realize that would hurt.” Bachira moaned, rubbing his fingers. Two of his fake nails had popped off, and a third was hanging on by a few strands of glue. “My claws..”

Isagi sat up with some effort, taking in the dribbler’s hands. Gently, he took them in his own, rubbing soothing circles against the aching fingers. “Sorry they popped off. They were cool while they lasted, though.”

“Hmm.” Bachira nodded, sounding a bit glum. Isagi smiled as he brought his hand to his lips, kissing the dribbler’s bruising fingers. The gesture was enough to shock him out of his pout.

“There. All better.” Isagi grinned after kissing the last of his fingers, scrunching his face up when he got a taste of nail polish. “Gross- how do people eat with this stuff on? I feel like it’d make everything taste weird.”

Bachira stared at him. Then he busted out laughing, falling against Isagi’s shoulder. “Ehehehhe! I lohohove you so much, Bluuhue skies!” He pulled back until he and Isagi were face to face, their foreheads pressed together as he gave him the sweetest of smiles. “Do you want me to kiss it all better?”

Isagi only laughed, nodding as he closed his eyes, Bachira’s lips capturing his own soon after.

Thanks for reading!

[o-sunny-day]

Oh boy this is about to be a double whammy…

Ive got an amv idea! Im probably not gonna start it for a bit though cause im *cough* busy

but also! Ive got an UNDERTALE ANALYSIS!!! so thought id share now…

“Merry Christmas, Please Dont Call” by Bleachers has been getting quite popular on tiktok, and OHH its soooooo good…

Listening to it on repeat though… It got me thinking… and appreciating sans’ character…. a LOT MORE??

Like yeah I already did really like/appreciate him, but this song is giving a LOTT more words to those feelings- AND YEAH.

This is gonna be a wonderful spiral of AMV visualizing + Undertale character/theme analysis… SO ENJOY! IF YOU WANT!

Heres a visual for the lyrics I have most in mind!

We start off strong, in an ending where you’ve gone and killed Papyrus and/or an inexcusable amount of Monsters-

The subject of this song is about Frisk/You as the player. Its even more fun this way cause Sans in game calls you “kid”…

and its even BETTER with this spesific line from the Empress Undyne Ending (w Papyrus dead) in mind AUGH

You Left Me On The Line Kid, Holding All Your Baggage.

Sans believes that “the anomaly” is doing all of this for SOME reason, subconsciously or not. Maybe they’re just missing something in their life, and thinking this will all fill their void??

But…In an ending where you’ve killed way too many people/Papyrus, I imagine Sans cant exactly justify whatever reason he believes the anomaly has anymore.

So, the wording “left me on the line with all your baggage” is him basically saying “you took out all your personal problems on people that were not in any way involved, and ruined my entire life. what the hell, man?”

Then the rest of that verse carries that same vibe/meaning.

Oh Golden Boy, You Shined A Light On Your Home. And At Your Best, You Were Magic, I Was Sold.

This part then takes place in the Pacifist route. At your BEST. When Sans has the most hope that the anomaly has found what it’s looking for.

Ofc, Sans doesnt REMEMBER anything you did, but the proof of time jumping seems to leave him with the same impression. (Also he’s pretty confident you’re responsible just cause of your expressions n all that) He even says so himself in the geno route that ORIGINALLY, before the routes you decide to go on/the humans appearance, hes always believed/wanted to believe whatever/whoever was causing this just wanted to be happy.

So in this ending, he’s hopeful that you’ve found whatever you’re looking for! he was sold…

But Don’t Tell ‘Em What You Told Me, Don’t Even Tell ‘Em That You Know Me. Id Rather Hurt Forever.

This line then switches to a potential Roommate Toriel Neutral Ending

“Don’t tell em you told/know me” referring to how he wants to keep what happened with Papyrus secret from Toriel,

“Id rather hurt forever” being an add/on to that: him preferring suffering in silence over Toriel feeling responsible for what happened.

THEN! LAST VERSE! This one is just tying everything up we’ve already discussed in a nice bow, but we still gotta digest it in chunks-

But You Should Know, That I Died Slow. Running Through The Halls Of Your Haunted Home.

BACK TO THE GENO ROUTE! Sans is dying/dead-

“running through halls of your haunted home” is kinda perfect for Chara though since…this home WAS theirs, and it is currently very haunted- with them and Asriel dying there- n all that….

And The Toughest Part Is That We Both Know What Happened To You. Why You’re Out On Your Own.

At this point of Sans laying down in The Judgment Hall, accepting death, he’s also accepting defeat. You both know why you’re doing this. That “Why” being….nothing. There was no reason, you just COULD. Thats why you’re “On your own” (in this game ofc this is not a personal attack-)

Merry Christmas, Please Dont Call.

AUUGH. The whole gang is celebrating Christmas in the Pacifist Route, but transitioning to a leaderless ending where only Sans remains, on the phone and saying his farewells to the thing that destroyed his world.

aaaand, see thats why i’m antsy about making this…I wanna get it out as a Christmas post ☹️

BUT YEAH! I really like considering this whole thing from Sans’ lense, cause honestly I DON’T believe he’s that nihilistic! Yeahh its a super horrible and soul crushing situation- and it is hard to “give it your all” when you have iron clad evidence that everything you’ve ever done/will do will just repeat and go on and on, not having true consequences, therefore, not matter.

But… if him not giving a shit were the case, why would he do ANYTHING he does??

He still shows up for the people he cares about/care for him, thats the main thing. He does things that matter to HIM, things that make him happy. He enjoys his life to the fullest. If the day is repeating, why not make that day the best day of your life??

And ive already went over how he sees you. I dont think he…likes?? you persay?? at least definitely NOT in endings where you clearly are killing people to see what will happen- but he has FAITH, hope, even. That you’ll do the right thing…..Eventually.

side note: I also know Sans and Papyrus are absolutely contradictions of each other for interesting dynamic/slapstick reasons- but they’re also REALLY SIMILAR??? Flowey is a reflection of the player… and Papyrus has faith in HIM! Idk, i also just think the connections between a lot of characters are really interesting!

[marilynthornhilllover]

🥂🎉End of year statements 2023🎉🥂

Alright so, where do I start. I know you guys are probably reading this and your probably like " omg why is this random girl tagging me in her post"💀😭 sorry if I'm misjudging, but last year I did an end of year statement on my Instagram it was one for editors ( the editing community) , so me and my friends kinda made it a tradition👍🏼😅.

- { Inspiration }

Honestly when I first started this tumblr account I had no intentions of making fanfics or even being " a writer" I had a wattpad account that I ditched because i simply got tired💀 so my friend @slut4milfsss who is no longer active told me she started an account for marilyn Thornhill, where she's gonna be writing fics, and if you can't tell by my name already I love marilyn, so I created an account and decided to support her and then she told me I should start writing, obviously I told her NO, but after I gave it a thought and then I started writing.

Now if you go wayyyyy back to my very first fic to be honest it wasn't that bad💀but it was bad, over time I got better but still😐....When I first started the first three blogs I followed was @regalbootie @daydream-cement and @littledollll and oh. My. GODD everytime I read their fics I felt as if I was in HEAVEN, their so talented and so very well creative and to me they were just perfect writing Gods. Then I followed @cissyenthusiast010155 and @v3nusxsky and I swore I died because again their fanfics were completely amazing and phenomenal and so well put together and it was crazy how realistic the fanfic seemed, it was like they made it come to life and then your imagination does the rest. From theses extraordinary and inpowering writers I found my inspiration to write and for them I'm honestly so thankful because I would have not been writing fics.

Guys I'm so sorry for the random tag, i dont wanna seem creepy 😭. but anyway I love you guys so much and please continue to shine your light and do keep writing because you guys are epic!<3.

Of course then I followed other amazingly talented writers such as @abbyromanoff @brienneoftarth1989 @willalovexx @prentiss-theorem @ilovehugslikealotalot @inlovewithgreta @daddy-heather-dunbar @m1lfsh4ke @m1lflov3rrr @yellowjacketsgayfanfic @agnessharknes @storiesofsvu and honestly the list goes on😮‍💨 but as we go into this new year I just wanted to show my gratitude for theses writers because they are truly amazing!<3.

Also to @geistergreen and @vivendraws because I love your arts!!! So creative!!

And of course to @resident-lover for blessing us with that scrumptious amazing game of theirs. ( I'm obsessed with Miranda's , Cassandra's and alcinas route)

Alright, moving on.

- { Mutuals }

I have some of the best mutuals on here and I'm so eternally grateful for them, they're so supportive and kind and loving. And I honestly couldn't ask for better friends than them, so I just wanna say thank you to @willalovexx @willowshadenox @prentiss-theorem @luisa323 @ilovehugslikealotalot @tryingmybest233333 @heidsworld @m1lfsh4ke I honestly couldn't be more thankful for you guys, when I get notifications that you liked my post, comment or messaged me I get so happy, you guys are just so cute and adorable and so wholesome, thank you for being by my side and I'm always here if you need me<3

- { account and followers }

I celebrated my first 1 year tumblr account anniversary on the 10th and I honestly couldn't be more grateful to be able to write fanfics for you guys and make content. I get so happy and excited when I see a fanfic requests might I add that you guys are extremely wild with your imagination, because some of the requests I get are beyond amazing and so well put together and well taught of and I'm so happy and grateful that I get to write them for you guys. Just remember all requests are seen and I will do them also about thoses kinkmas requests, i know it's not Christmas anymore but I will still be working on them and I will post them, just give me some time.<3.

When I tell you guys being a badged psychologist is not easy believe me💀the amount of notes is unbelievable sometimes I feel like my hand is gonna drop off because my fingers become sore and I can't even type😐sooo yeah, also I have my office now, honestly so happy!!! Although I'm still majoring in forensic for a couple more years🙄ugh anyways.

I hope you all enjoy your 2024 ( new year ) I hope it's kind to you all, I hope there is a lots of opportunities in store for you guys, love especially, peace and just everything that your hoping and wishing for, goodnight!<3

[shanofarcadia]

i’m bored, here’s a list of tales of arcadia characters that are main characters that nobody treats like main characters:

(it’s probably going to be a long list)

varvatos vex

the movie doesn’t do him justice at all, but he’s quite literally the secondary lead of 3below just below aja and krel. the deuteragonist, if you will. he’s one of the 3 in 3below, its pretty self explanatory. also raise your hand if you’re attracted to him.

steve palchuk

i dunno if this is a hot take, but i’d argue that steve’s been a main character since the very beginning and i personally see him that way. yeah, he’s not really a lead in trollhunters (though i’d argue he’s could be 3below’s tritagonist), he does have a major role in the first half of the season with the play + bullying jim, and the second half with the spring fling competition season B plot. and by season 2 we of course get the creepslayerz. while steve takes a major absence from trollhunters season 3, he’s still a major character in the following two shows.

eli pepperjack

unlike steve, i don’t consider eli to be a main right away. personally, i see him come into more of a main spotlight by 3below, and is a supporting character of trollhunters. his major involvement with the tarrons definitely makes him a main character, he’s basically the toby to krel’s jim in my eyes. obviously, 3below is the only show where he’s main since he decides to be absent from wizards. eli why did you do that to me.

blinky and aaarrrgghh

this one feels redundant to add because i’m certain people do see them as main characters, it’s just that so much TOA talk is always centered around the human characters rather than the trolls/aliens etc, so i just want to show them some love and acknowledge them 💕

strickler

only applicable to trollhunters, as his roles in 3below are reduced to a few cameos and exactly 1 speaking line. strickler is one of season 1’s primary antagonists, so of course he’s going to be a main/major character. i feel like his absence in season 2 causes people to forget that he really is a main, because he really is a heavy part of the plots to seasons 1 and 3, not just with jim but with barbara, too, which leads me to my next one.

barbara lake

honestly in my opinion, barbara just barely makes this list, cause i really only see her as a main character in season 3 of trollhunters, as opposed to seasons 1 and 2. in those seasons, her appearances are just a scene or two at most per episode, save for a few. season 3 is where she shines more by remembering jim’s double life, being brought into the fold, etc. not a very long tenure as a main but still worthy of giving credit for i think!

zadra

she may not be in every episode like aja, krel, and varvatos, but zadra takes part in some substantial storylines in her role in 3below, such as working both sides against morando for the resistance, and discovering the traitor in the midst, getting to earth and finding a way back for the royals. also she’s a lesbian and i think lesbians are neat. 💖

morando

same reason as i say for strickler, as the overarching main villain of 3below, it should earn morando a spot at the mains table, especially for season 2 when he finally makes a move on earth. i don’t like talking about him much though because he’s one of the weakest villain this franchise has seen and i wish he’d been done better, but that’s a post for another time.

kubritz

kind of like barbara, her as a main only lasts one season. she’s more the secondary villain of the season behind morando, but her heavy involvement in season 2 and subtle character arc that she gets is enough for me to qualify her as one of 3below’s main characters. fair warning these next few are gonna all have the same reasoning so if you get annoyed reading it over and over i apologize.

bular

third time’s the charm with this reasoning, but seeing as he was the main villain of season 1A, he’s definitely a main character in that season of trollhunters. obviously after his death that goes away, but in those 13 episodes he’s for sure a major character.

angor rot (i hit image limit on the hottest troll character are you serious. anyway.)

the travesty of no hot angor gif able to be added aside, despite being introduced halfway through season 1 as the primary villain to replace bular following his death, that very reason is why i see him as a main for seasons 1 and 3. in season 3 he’s most certainly not the primary villain again, but he does get a small arc where he begins to question his loyalties after being resurrected which gives him focus.

gunmar

i’m honestly unsure how people see him in terms of main vs supporting, but i definitely think he’s a main character of trollhunters seasons 2 and 3, and a minor character in season 1 since they were just teasing him at that point. once again, the main villain of those seasons of trollhunters (not including all that nonsense of morgana actually pulling the strings all along) which gives him a reason to be classed as a main. i also think he’s pretty hot too i won’t lie.

and that’s about all i can think of! you really don’t have to agree with me on this, especially cause tales of arcadia isn’t one of those shows that exactly outlines their cast billing into a “starring” and “guest starring” designation (can you tell stuff like that is something im very passionate about) so it’s all up to interpretation really, and this is mine!

[askoverlordvox]

Lutualverse Update!

Sinners, Winners, and all you caught in between, thanks for tuning in to today's broadcast! We've had a few late breaking developments that have rocked Heaven and Hell that could affect you and your families. However! As ever, VoxTek™ remains committed to bringing you the latest juicy machinations of those being devilish and divine to keep you informed! And on your knees.

First off! It seems Heaven has decided to reclaim one of their rejects as Sera personally came down to Hell to grab Ass, the former Exorcist who's murdered thousands of Sinners! Apparently, the Stubborn Seraph is none-too-pleased with a Fallen Angel sneaking back up to Heaven for a bit of, hold on here, lemme check my notes... cuddling! Yes, folks, that's the big Sin on Heaven's shit list nowadays! Which is why you should stick it to them- and where the sun don't shine- by purchasing from our new line of VoxTek™ Super Glide Lube, from the beloved- and now, happily, defunct- Love Potion series (all rights reserved VokTek™ as of last week).

Next, things have heated up as Lee, everyone's favorite double timing double agent double crossed yet another former consort, opting to cut all ties with Adina, the Venomous Vixen of the Seraphim! With some strong words that she surely won't regret, Lee has returned to Hell one bitch lighter and one terribly Doomsday Prophesy heavier, as two more of Heaven's Rejects are about to visit a whole Ring's worth of pain onto Adina if she fails to provide the information they require- and maybe even then, I'm just sayin'.

Oh, and this just in- it seems Sera, the Beautiful Bitch that she is, has created a whole new breed of angel as a possible replacement for the Exorcists. Sporting gold on white and a big fuck-off sword, this model's name is Shamira, and she's not the chatty sort! Great! Just what she needs- more Murder Angels to order around! Did I already mention the part where Heaven might be retaliating against Hell because someone misplaced a certain jackAss?

As things continue to be very interesting in Heaven, Hell's experiencing a surge of activity as well! Vaggie, the poor bitch, is trying to figure out how to broach a sensitive subject with her girlfriend- the Scary As Fuck When Pissed Charlie Morningstar, so good luck on that one! Meanwhile, the various Overlords are deciding if they're going to throw their weight behind a defense of Hell or hide like the cowards they've always been! But don't let the fear of pissweak Overlords get you down, folks, not when you can order VoxBot 3.5, a new and improved home version of my personal security detail. These bad boys are now equipped with angelic steel propeller blades and have the same lack of self preservation as the rest of you sorry bastards! Order a four pack and we'll add a fifth one for free, just $1,999.69- you won't find a better value for your personal protection, folks! These models have even been tested against Exorcists!

And remember, for a name you can trust, give your soul TO ME.

Stay tuned for our next broadcast, folks.

It's gonna be a doozy.

[bonefall]

Hey Bonefall! Got a wide and weird variety of Clanmew things to share/ask about! Spent some time translating a mix of straight OCs and also clangen cats, and thus I’ve got some names to show off and also a varied list of words I ran into a lack of.

Cherryclaw - Obeorussyskat

Cherry leaves who will unsheathe claws

Also known as Sookie, this is the warrior name I’ve given to my cat. Name is coming from cherry, making it specifically the leaves of the cherry tree since she’s a beautiful tortie, and then yskat from the term for unsheathing claws, as I wanted a more active term than just referring to the body part. If I’m getting how nicknames work right, I think a suitable nickname would be Obekat, but you might notice a better one.

This also turned up a word I think would be helpful - what would be the term for specifically leaves which have fallen to the ground in leaffall? Like, piles of rustling leaves on the ground. I think that’d fall a lot closer to what I was getting at.

Cranestar - Bwabwashai

Egret star / Cranelight / Egret who shines

Previously known as Bwabwashemi, this one is using the egret as a reasonably similar bird which had a word in the lexicon.

Oakbranch - Byochchobyrr

Oak tree branch

This one was a big chunk of time and turned up a decent chunk of words desired, as Oakbranch is a cleric and fathers a litter of kittens with Cranestar and thus I decided to dabble in dishonour names with him, though it would be given by a different leader likely.

I ended up wanting the general meaning of “tree branch dead from breaking a vow”, so using Babechok in place of the prefix and using a term for a broken vow as the suffix - ideally a term for specifically the cleric vow, but a general promise would work too. Thus, under this I was wondering what the words for promise/vow, honourable, broken vow, forbidden, and dishonourable would be. (Don’t worry I’m gonna add a bullet list at the end)

Nightfall - Mebwynfe

Vesper fall

Nickname attempt Mebfe? This is one of my oldest cats created, along with her sister following.

Moonamber - Shomaogi

Moon resin

Nickname attempt Shogi? She’s a cleric and sisters with Nightfall.

Batwing - Shi’poafafa

Noctule (biggest bat named) who fluttered

Nickname attempt Shifa? This one also turned up a word request- the Lexicon has a word for specifically a feathered wing, but not the skin wings of bats - what would that be? I’m actually really happy with what I ended up with, but it feels like a gap which should be considered.

Following are more rapid-fire clangen names, and then a list of words from above and this list which I couldn’t find.

Blizzardhare - Os’hauooyywaya - blizzard hare

Cressmark - Shushchafakonpen - stream plant patch fur patch

Fawnstripe - Myaaseek - baby deer long thick stripe

Ghostdazzle - Kooskepshayu - ghost lights source

Riversong - Ssbassoowamew - River lullaby

Spruceneedle - Fiffnyyp - Douglass fir pine needle

Streakstar - Seekshai - long thick stripe star

Swampdusk - Kolpfawmun - swamp dusk

Talonrump - Kachswash - claw tail

Beavertuft - Morfafaofa - general mustelids (otter) tuft of hair

Missing words which I think are plausible for the base region from this set - Watercress, Mark, Rump, Talon

Final List of Words I was Missing

A bat’s wing

Leaflitter / fallen leaves on the ground in fall

Honourable

Dishonourable

Vow / promise

Broken vow / promise

Watercress

Mark

Rump

Talon

Thanks for making up such an interesting conlang, I had a great time poking through the lexicon and naming cats.

Oh my god you even made a list organizing all your requests I love you so much you have no idea

I need to update Yet Another masterpost (And we just got the Lexicon up to date!) so let me hook you up to all the terms you need;

Types of Wings

There are a LOT of words for specific types of wing in Clanmew, related to the fact Clanmew is a language of obligate carnivores and active hunters. There isn't just "Flying," there are a LOT of types of "flight" and each wing produces a very different kind of rapid movement.

Someday I will also expand on the types of Beof, feathered wings.

Bat wing, has a bit of a "tragic" connotation if not used in the context of a living bat, as dead "songbirds" are a very sad thing to Clan cats = Pafr

Hard, outside wing of some insects, such as beetles, "Shield" = Bakbur

Clear, iridescent flight wing of insects, "Elytra" = Kaskr

Beautiful, patterned wing of a butterfly or moth, "painted" by StarClan. Has a holy connotation = Wesk

Pectoral fin of a fish, NOT the tail-fin, the "arm" wing = Sseo

Values

Here's honor-related terms, in order of least insulting to most insulting.

Honor = Kurruar To say something is honorable (good thing), the suffix -wang is appended. Kurruarwang. Honorness. To negate, the prefix Nyar is applied. Nyarkurruarwang, Not-Honor-Ness. You can come back from dishonor, it's the politest way to phrase that someone has not been acting in line with the value of Honor.

Beastliness, gauchness, lacking in good taste = Ragywar This is usually applied to taste, meaning a cat who will eat raw meat or bite through their tunnelbuns, but it could also be used in a context meaning that the cat acts like an "animal." Driven by lesser instincts.

Cannibalism/Eats its own young/Acting in extreme self-interest = Mwyrgna This is the lowest kind of NATURAL evil... but still natural. It's the evil of cuckoo birds, frightened animals that eat their own young, killing out of self-interest. VERY serious insult.

Unnatural Evil/Cruelty/Sadism = Yaonyyw This is not something that cuckoo birds are even capable of. It's unnatural evil. It's pleasure at seeing another thing suffer, for no other reason than to see it in pain. It's what Clan cats think humans do when they cut the claws off their kittypets. It's unspeakable, but rare.

And on vows,

Promise = Minki NOT a holy vow. Just one you make between people. Also can be used to mean "reliable," "Capable of keeping promises."

Vow/Oath = Shemiyyo A sacred promise, one you make on authority of your holy name. VERY few things are vows of this level-- the most common vow to make is the one you do during your Warrior Name Ceremony, making an oath to uphold the code.

ONES I HAVE ON-HAND

I answered this ask a while back which includes the word for "talon," Chuag, the unretractable claw of a non-feline animal.

I also answered this one for beavers after you'd already sent this, beavers are actually England-compliant, surprisingly

Fallenleaf's name is over here, step-by-step walking through its etymology even! Her name in Clanmew, Wowaruss is basically "Leaf Litter," but literally "Beneathleaf," the fallen layer of leaves in a forest.

CRESS

THREE types of Cress. As a treat. Any of these can translate to cress if you'd like, or the alternate translations I'm including.

Watercress (Nasturtium officinale) = Qwerru From Duck + Leaf, because this is a favorite fodder of ducks and geese. VERY unhealthy for cats, doesn't cause instant poisoning but WILL lead to kidney stones if eaten a lot. Thankfully, it also tastes Bad.

Stune (Cardamine hirsuta) = Berrsha Also called "Hairy Bittercress" in English, used as a medicinal herb. Widespread, very common, and seen in early Spring which can make it very useful for Clerics running low on other medicines. "Stune" comes from Old English btw. it's an archaic name for this plant but I do what i want. Language is an illusion and so are pants.

Rocket (Barbarea vulgaris) = Eberr Called "Bitter Wintercress" or "Yellow Rocket" in English, a much better version of stune. Pops up in abundant, cheerful flowers, hence the English name. NOT EATEN; used as a poultice for treating wounds.

Everything Else

Just a couple more things of assorted flavors;

Mark = Neb A scent marker, DOESN'T JUST APPLY TO SPRAYING but, yes, that is also a neb. A kitty "kiss" is also a mark being applied.

Anointed/Anointing/Will Anoint = Kembaneb/Kembane/Kemban To intentionally leave a mark, usually of a substance that smells nice, on a living thing. Has a spiritual connotation, used in some rituals. Can be used for a metaphorical kitty kiss, if your feelings are being returned, you're being brought into a family, etc. When Frostfur taught Cloudtail how to apply makeup to his dull, white pelt, teaching him how to look 'beautiful' as if she was officially accepting him as her son-in-law, THAT can also be considered an Anointing.

Border-Marked/Border-Marking/Will Border Mark = Ssognassa/Ssognass/Ssogna There's no way to get around this. This is spraying. It is urine. They are Cats. This is specifically when you are setting a scent mark, such as that for a border.

Glyph/Written Word/Character = Karm Like a letter! It's something written down. See the Glyphs.

And... rump. Honestly I'm always super confused by this one when I see it in Clangen? Like... My brain's always trying to place what that means.

Is it like, a tuft on the lower spine? Is it the "butt button" that makes a kitty stretch their booty up when you scratch it? Is it the flank of the upper leg? Does it just mean butt cheek?? Who wants to be named BUTTCHEEK?

SO HERE. HERE'S EVERY ONE OF THOSE THINGS, YOU PICK

Spine (the entire back) = Chabak

Rump-tuft, could also apply to "pantaloon" tufts as seen on some longhaired breeds = Chaofa

Rump/Butt Zone/sensitive spot on the lower back of a cat = Chawka (Also used to describe something they have a "soft spot" or passion for)

Belly Zone/Spot that cats don't like having touched on their belly = Bowka (Also used to describe "weak point")

Upper leg/Haunch = Pwaio Sometimes translated as the "foot" suffix. When used in a name, means quick to spring or a good runner, usually outside of WindClan.

Buttcheek = Soopen Also the present-tense of "Sitting." The butt, the thing you use to sit down with.

[littleesistler]

100 followers short story

thank you everyone I even got 109 followers, thank you so much pookies, littles, my lees and lers and general chat buddies.

so now here’s my promises fanfic that’s more a short story based on this highlighter my mom bought for me 🫣🫣🫣

As a content creator I knew of products going viral and circulating. Some were rumored to be more special then they actually were while others were just paid enough to lie of its benefits. Makeup often blew up on TikTok. So I wasn’t surprised when I found out about this new highlighter. 

It didn’t look very special, a pink tinted glowing one with a nice price tag added to it. Pretty simple and not too innovative. But it was the name that piqued my interest, tickled. Did it have to have that name? I gulped as I looked at the fine packaging, a lady holding a feather with rosy cheeks and the word tickle proudly displayed in 3D. It was probably an homage to the famous line tickled pink. But still, it made me feel unsettled. The thought of seeing it everyday in my makeup drawer made me shiver and giggle nervously. 

So of course I just so happened to be on the PR- package list for the new launch. Perfect, just perfect. My followers would have to see me review it.

As the days went on it creeped in the back of my mind, the pretty pink packaging and that I was gonna get it for free and that it would go well with my skin tone. Totally not the name. Absolutely not, since the makeup brand was known for tacky and interesting names. I squealed when I got an email from the company as I was in front of my computer. It said I didn’t need to review it live like my contract usually said, since they had added a new feature they wanted me to test into privately. It had a type of plumping effect like those famous lipsticks and lipgloss to add that sweet tingle and make one's cheeks more glowy and red form deep within. And they didn’t know how intense it would be. So with me and my sensitive skin I was one the list. 

I reread the email a few times as I held the product in my hands. I’d apply it to my nose, forehead, cheeks, chin, collarbones, hands and wrists and take a few pictures of how it looked on my skin. I’d report how it felt, any allergic reactions and the after growl. I recoiled as I gently traced the details of the packaging, to calm myself down with a few makeshift asmr tingles. 

It was very cute in itself with a preppy pink, stylised art and some shiny crisp details. All to make it more appealing for pictures and to mess around with. I gently opened the flap and my eyes shined with joy. It had a rose gold tint. With a beautiful pearlescent shine to it as I tilted it under my ring light. I smiled and stared into the engraved inside with the word tickle. Enjoying the finer detail before I’d dig into it.

I placed it down on my makeup table and gently swatched my finger into it seeing the product glimmer in the light. I dragged my finger down my wrist and I smiled widely at how well it matched my pinky skin tone. It was so perfect and I felt so lucky to have gotten the product early. I took out my phone and took a few pictures of my wrists. Once I was in the middle of filming a video I started to feel a slight tingle as my hands wobbled a bit. Gosh ahahah seems like that plumping effect is kicking in. 

I decided to film closer as I saw a few goosebumps forming as my giggles grew. It felt funny but also kidna relaxing, not a burning sensation like those cheap lip plumpers. Just a slight tickle. My eyes widened as I remembered the name of the product. Could it really? No it couldn’t eheh. I dipped my finger into the highlighter once again looking at it. Should I really test it out more, I umm eheheh. I kept giggling more, feeling my eyes crinkle at the sides. I looked at my finger coated in the shiny product. And I felt more drawn to it. It looked so pretty, gleaming and innocent. Such a pretty little thing with a mischievous side.

So I turned my camera off and leaned into my mirror looking at myself as I traced my nose with the product. Seeing it leave a trail of shimmer behind. My nose scrunched slightly as I giggled. It felt strange like a feather dancing over my skin. I then added some to my chin feeling my jaw relax with a content giggle. It seems the plumping effect was activated from skin contact so when I had it longer on my finger before applying it, the effect went right into it. I dipped my other finger in and rubbed my hands together as I looked at myself in the mirror. I had a bright smile on with a wrinkled nose and eyelids as well as a light blush under the pretty highlight.

When I felt it tingle on my fingers I traced my cheekbones, under my eyes and between my brows giggling more. Was it from excitement or tingling? From curiosity or control? I looked at my hands with the leftover product seeing them shimmer with some goosebumps in the light. I giggled more as I looked down at the rest of my body. Where should I try the product next I thought. The idea sent a shiver down my spine and a tingle into my heart as I made eye contact with myself in the mirror of the packaging…

[msbhagirathi]

IPKKND LIVE BLOG SEASON 1 [Epi. 7]

Hi. Aa jaao. You already know what do we do here. Baith gaye? Chalo start. Acha. Ruko. Saath mein popcorns liya? Lol. :P Chalo aao ab start karte hein, serious :)

1. Bitwa's face tho. He seems to be so damn irritated. Anyways.

2. Uhhh.. Bitwa.. Your wife Khushi is talking about the harkat that you did back in Lucknow, a day or two ago. Don't play ignorant now, okay? I know, you very well understand what is she tryna say, uhh-huhhh. Acting smart.

3. And what the freaking hell was with that line, Bitwa? "Toh mere har kaam mein taang araana band karo." When did SHE taang araao in your 'kaam'? I don't remember. Is she already disturbing you in your sleep? Have you already started falling for her? I am so sorry to say this. But. You are such a gone case, Bitwa. Lol. Whatever.

4. You are tryna intimidate her but I think the one getting more intimidated is YOU, alone my dear Bitwa. She is very much at peace right now. Whatever.

5. Look at that two seconds satisfying smile, Bitwa flashes, when Khushi says, "Phir paisa?" Lol. He is definitely enjoying this.

6. Tryna provoke her, are we, Bitwa?

7. Look at his face when Khushi is giving her monologue of khuddari and udhaar nahi lete and all that. He is so freaking enjoying this. His face's like 'Her whole life is gonna feel like a lie to her once she knows the price money.'

8. Khushi ~very confidently so~ picks up her basta to fish out 'the price money'. She is actually ~oh so innocent~ y'all. Sometimes I feel like pulling her cheeks so hard. Kucchi pucchi ku you kiddo, you haven't even seen your neighborhood states, forget about seeing the world.

9. Actually, this fact might have further intrigued him more, that she is an eighteen year old, fresh out of school, middle class girl ~a literal nobody~ in front of him and yet her zeal, confidence and enthusiasm is unmatchable.

10. "Pacchis hazaar." and all the color rushes out of her face and she gives him a side glance like 'Duh. Really!? This giant oldie will take THAT MUCH for repairing?'

11. Arnav feels like he should cut some slack off for this girl, after all she have had to endure a lot because of his tape fiasco as she subtly hinted at when the conversation had begun.

12. So. Instead of further taking money from her, he decides to help her in his own ~I am the knight in shining armor for a damsel in distress like you~ (In one word: ARROGANT) way. He. Read it carefully. He GRABS her arm ~with that haq~ (excuse me sir? care to explain?) and places a new crisp one thousand rupee note and closes her palm. Uff. I will die of the intensity of haq he is exercising over her and the way she lets him do so without snatching away her hand. (Note that she would always snatch away her hand whenever Shyam would try to do something of that sort.)

13. "Khuddari ki baatein humesha bohot sasti hoti hain aur paisa bohot mehenga. Tum bhi yahin ho aur main bhi. We'll see." Kyun Bitwa? What happened to your two second old suggestion for Khushi to return back to Lucknow with the 'leftover money'? Do you not want your wife her to leave? Do you already want your wife her to stay around you as much as possible? Tum kya see karoge Bitwa hum tohka see karihein iske baad se haan.

14. "....Haan ab theek hai..." Kya theek hai Bitwa? Ya phir more like kaun theek hai? Tum? Ya woh fashion show wali ladki? Kya janna chah rahe the tum Bitwa? That Khushi is fine or not? And what happened to your 'das minute mein pahunch jaunga wali meeting' for which you couldn't 'waste' your precious time for the puja this morning? Who oh who will answer my goddamn questions? BTW, so men really do forget everything after meeting their wives huh? And I see our Bitwa is no exception. Lol. Whatever.

15. Wah wah 'tuuu ruru tuutuu rururu'(Lol. I have no fucking idea why did I add the bg sound for her here. Lol. Please bear with me.) MAMIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. Belcome Homes Mamiji.

16. Hahahaahahaahha. See y'all I seriously lost it jab mamiji ne touchwood bolke apna sir hi touch karliya. Lol. Whatever.

17. Vyjanthimala, huh? Really? Mamiji? Ok. Wait. Y'all. Lemme show you who is Vyjanthimala.

*runs to google to search up her name coz has no idea herself who she is*

*skims through the photos*

*is awestruck by her beauty*

*debates about the selection of photo*

*decides one and takes screenshot*

*adds it here along with the link*

Presenting y'all.

Vyjayanthimala.

Indian actress and dancer.

This is Vyjanthimala. Of course, this is an old picture (She is ninety years old now. Wow. Can you believe it? This young beauty is ninety years old now.)

So. Yeah. Now you can see for yourself, who is she comparing herself with. Such heights of flattery for your own self, mamiji? Not good. (Utkarsha ma'am is of course very beautiful. I am just pointing out the character flaw, given to her, of over-glorifying herself and her sun and her huzbend and her phamily.)

18. She really 'thued' at her own reflection y'all. Lmao. I can't-*wheezes away for the next four business days*

19. Lol. I love mamaji and mamiji's banter y'all. The way mamaji compliments her and keeps his mouth shut when she gets irritated. Lmao. One of the relationships I so love throughout the show.

20. "Itni muskil se toh auda banaye, usko aise hi jaane de?" A little glossary here. Ohada means (as explained by my friend @phuljari di) (pad/sthaan/padwi in hindi) status like we see here mamiji had to do a lot to gain/earn a place in the Raizada Household. So it is actually very important for her to always look 'tip-taap' as she believes that only then, she would be accepted as a Raizada bahu if she 'looks' like it. I hope I was able to make it clear.

21. And here comes naniji. Looking for some Lakshmi.

22. Okay. So. One more thing. See how mamiji literally acts like a teenager as she kind of rebels against her order of coming down immediately. So she refuses to follow her order and tells her husband that she would arrive a few minutes later. Hmm. Speaks a lot about the kind of relation mamiji and her saas-o-maa share.

23. And look how naniji dismisses her as well saying that she isn't waiting for her but for the children.

24. See? You noticed how Bitwa tossed away Aakash's question about 'uss din wali ladki'? This also means nobody except Anjali Di know about the Lucknow fiasco. Also, look how he shook his head when Aakash offered to take legal action against her? Ufff. I will die of this protective-ness and possessive-ness already.

25. Do you too find Arnav's face particularly hot and delicious in this scene where he is talking to Aakash? Also I am kicking my legs and squealing at that dent wali line. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. God. Oh. God. Please save me.

26. And we are immediately taken to that 'uss din ladki' who has just returned from her trip to the pharmacy shop.

27. Shut up buaji. She had gone out running, only FOR YOU. Show some grateful-ness. Dammit.

28. We are again taken back to Shantivan.

29. The smart-ass Raizada brothers walk in, with full tashan. Everyone quickly dismiss themselves and nani and Arnav are left alone.

30. Wait. Look at nani's expression. Arnav gets the hint that she wants to speak to him about something. And the atmosphere quickly turns awkward as Arnav struggles to maintain small-talk. Asking about her trip and the facilities provided.

31. Nani explains him that she went to a pilgrimage, a place where one needs to do some hard work in order to receive the fruits of their prayers. Then she continues to say that this time she had gone there for him and Arnav is surprised, "Mere liye?" Look at the way he asks it. He definitely did not expect it.

32. But then nani continues to speak cryptically. "Jiss raftaar se aap chalat hain, uss raftaar per swayam ke alawa sab kuch dhundlaiye jaat hai." Arnav counters back, "Nani mujhe sab kuch saaf-saaf dikh raha hai." "Galat jagah dekh rahe hain aap. Sirf aage hi nahi nazar ghumaakar piche bhi dekh lijiye. Har pidhi aane wali pidhi ko kuch sikha ke jaat hai. Lekin jab raftaar thodi dhimi ho tabhi sahi galat ki pehchaan hui sakat hai." I want to process these lines some more then will let you know my views on this monologue.

33. Anjali di brings a white kurta for him which will undoubtedly go to the un-used collection of ethnics Arnav has.

34. She somehow senses his mood which is still sour from the lines nani spoke to him a few moments ago and the encounter he had with Khushi on the road. And di yet again reminds him of her. She tries to know about the incident but Arnav dodges it away by saying, "Kuch khaas nahi."

35. Khushi again has to bear the brunt of buaji's anger.

36. Buaji tell me one thing. Uncle ko koi uncle nahi bolega toh kya bolega. Uff. Somebody please help her.

37. And the moment she reminds her of 'paisa'. Khushi again immerses herself in the world of Laard guvunur and his pacchis hazaar(her oh-so-sweet escapism y'all ;) ).

38. Both the sisters go to the market to buy some sabzi. But Khushi cannot think anything else other than her woh. She literally said it. "Jiji WOH phirse mila tha." At this point, Khushi is just a lost case. Payal rightly points out her 'chain' has been 'chhined' by that LG.

39. Khushi explains her that her 'chain' will not be back until and unless she pays back the pacchis hazaar that she owes him.

40. Ew! Shyam enters with an umbrella. Ew. Ew. Ew. His cryptic words irks me to no extent. So maybe he had indeed planned the fight with those rogues in order to ensure that her parents would send her to Delhi. Whatever. Bye. I don't watch precaps.

P.S.: No P.S. Ghar jaao. Bye.

Previous

Next

[i-read-and-write-barely]

Quilts

On a particularly boring day you and Gabriel decide to build a pillow fort in the bunker.

Day 4. Quilts.

It was the middle of the day, and you were bored. Nothing good was on tv, and as interesting as walls can be, staring them down was gonna get you nowhere in life. So, as most sane people do, you decided to build a pillow fort. And who better to call as a backup architect than your boyfriend, Gabriel. As if on cue wings flap behind you, with a smile you turn around.

"Hey Gabe~ Feel up to designing a castle with me?" You offer a cheeky smile, knowing he couldn't refuse the opportunity to mess around.

He scoffs slightly. "As if I'd ever refuse to create some mayhem~ Especially with you. Now how do you plan to create this 'castle' of yours?"

"I figured we can snag all the pillows, blankets, couch cushions and every piece of furniture in the building that's not nailed down and build a fort? Unless of course you have a better plan oh master architect." You over exagerate a bow and chuckle softly as you tease him. He only smugly raises an eyebrow.

"I mean I could just-" He holds his hand up and snaps his fingers. "-snap my fingers just like that, and boom! We're in an actual castle. But I have a feeling my dolly wants to actually build a fort, don't you?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head, amused. "Indeed, where's the fun in a fort if you don't personally get to build it? I shall not enter a fort that my hands never had a part in creating! I declare it here and now, with you as my witness!" Somehow without fail Gabriel always manages to bring out your more goofy side. Not that you mind, it's good to relax sometimes.

"Ah, I see. Then I shall hold you to that, I will testify in any court that requires it!" Gabriel and you both giggle.

"Alright! Let's go grab some pillows!" You run off and start grabbing everything you can find, pillows, quilts, couch cushions, nothing soft and comfy is safe from your onslaught. In no time at all you and Gabe have managed to pile everything into the living room. "Ok! How should we design this...?" You look to Gabriel for assistance, he rubs his hands together greedily.

"And now it's my time to shine Dolly! Grab those cusions for me." He points to what he needs and together you both build the best pillow fort in history. Somehow there's two floors and a functioning elevator. Quilts line the floors to add extra comfort, and pillows are abundant.

"This is the best thing I've ever made with someone..." You break out into a proud smile at your handywork, it is rather impressive. Grabbing Gabriels hand you drag him into the fort, together you both lay, surrounded by your hard work. Reaching out you grab some quilts and wrap both you and Gabe in blankets.

The quilts are all gifts from friends and people you've saved in the past. Patterns and swirls can be found everwhere on them, smiling you trace them, following them with your fingers. Giggling sofly you drag your fingers over Gabriels back, he only turns and smiles contently at you. Enjoying your happiness.

"Oh get over here~" Gabe grabs you and wraps you into a hug, pulling you against him with a laugh and a happy smile. Soon you're cocooned in the warmth of blankets. Thankful for the best cure of boredom, Gabriel.

Taglist: @phoenixwithcatears

[renapomissing]

Comic Sonic Super Study 12

Man, this thing was supposed to be out two days ago. Anyway, time for issue 26!

First story

Back up a second. Robotnik took two weeks of meteorology class at night school, and he was able to do all of this with it? Lowkey this dude is more impressive than Eggman in the games.

No, Sally, you can't say that word; you're gonna get demonitized.

I choose to believe that Antoine was just being a smart aleck here. Probably not, but I'm gonna keep pulling for his dignity, all the way through this comic.

Also, bad day for Sally to go back to the naked look.

A Sonic-cicle, you say?

Credit to Reddit user Dominick128 on this Reddit thread for the image. I needed this image to be period-accurate, and that meant I needed Classic Sonic.

Yep. It's gonna be one of those Super Studies.

See, these types of group dynamics, and how Sonic relates within them are the things we don't get when the games have him work alone.

Y'know what? This is pretty goated on Snively's part. I also love how evil he and Robotnik are, for seemingly no reason at all.

Issue 26: Second story

Eyyyy, we got Art Mahwinney on here. One of the best to ever do it, as far as I'm concerned.

"Where's Bunnie" indeed; she hasn't shown up for a few issues, now.

As a side note: Sonic can't run right now, and he's taking it pretty well.

Sally's ancestors built log fortresses, apparently. I actually really like this idea.

Bunnie seems to be okay with making jokes about her robot parts.

Firstly, Rotor's pocket laser can cut through metal... but it's not strong enough to make for a decent weapon...? Are you guys one hundred percent sure about that? I was gonna point out that their enemy's forces are mostly metal, but if it can cut through metal, it can definitely cut through flesh.

Secondly, I love the detail of Sonic messing up his ankle again. They didn't have to do it, but it adds a certain life to the scene. I'm not sure if he decided to test it, or if he just did that out of habit, and forgot about the injury for a second, but I like both of those explanations.

Actually pretty raw

I liked this story a lot. Sure, not everybody gets to be useful, but hey, it's not a full issue story, and we still get Sonic managing to think his way out of a problem when he can't run, and we get Bunnie getting some much-needed time to shine, and Rotor helping by putting the suit together. Sally and Antoine at least helped by carrying Sonic when he was injured. But really, the story gets to the point with a very good tone-setting panel of the Freedom Fighters in the middle of a confrontation with Robotnik, desperate, in the forest.

There's a general tone of camaraderie in this story, and to me, this is when the Freedom Fighters as a unit are being written at their best. Hell, this is what I feel a team book should be: The dynamic is thoroughly established, and we saw how they work together in tight situations.

I didn't cover it, but one point of note is that Sonic doesn't stop making jokes when the team doesn't know what to do, and Sally sternly asks him to be serious. I tend to get tired of the "constantly quipping" style that you see in a lot of media, but this is how I would like to see it handled: It's limited to a single character. This establishes the quipping as a character trait, instead of having it be a generic point that everybody has.

Anyway, this ended up being another long one, so I'll leave things here, and catch you next time!

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Between Shadows

Chapter 7: Wandering with you.

Clothes lay scattered across her bed as Penny searched through her closet. The night Whitley texted her they’d spent hours after dinner planning this meet-up. Jacques was heading out again and the weather was going to be nice all weekend, so they’d have plenty of time to spend together. Whitley had been cooped up in the manor for a while, so Penny had suggested they go to the park and get some fresh air together.

Penny: I know a nice one nearby. It has an ice rink, a big playground, and some picnic tables. We can go ice skating and get lunch from one of the street vendors!

She proposed, Whitley ruminated on the suggestion for a moment. He hadn’t been to a park in over a decade but the thought of skating with Penny did tickle his fancy too much to refuse.

Whitley: Should I bring my own skates?

He quips with a smile. With the location picked out and a time frame sorted the only thing left to do for Penny was pick out an outfit! It wasn’t too cold out but there was still snow on the ground so pants or leggings would be best if she was going to be doing physical activities. Being a skirt lover Penny looked through all her causal clothes for a suitable one, as she searched, she recalled the stylish cold-weather outfit she’d picked up at Stellar oh so long ago. Putting the pieces together and looking them over as set Penny decides to swap out the yellow boots for her brown winter boots so she can be steady on her feet instead of risking stumbling while breaking in the higher heels. She also switches out the compass-themed accessories for her silver brooch to better match her deep blue blouse. She dawns her outfit then checks herself out in the mirror and after a few adjustments everything looks great. Now on to hair, since she’s gonna be active a simple high ponytail works fine. And as a final touch, she applies a coat of cherry lipgloss to her lips, a little something she picked up at the store earlier in the week. It’s a small touch that adds a lovely little shine to her appearance.

With that Penny’s ready to go, placing her necessities into the large pockets of her coat and heads downstairs. Her dad had gone up to the academy to help run some diagnostics on the mechas stationed at the border earlier that day, so Penny locks up the house before leaving. She practically skips all the way to the station and seems to sway as she stays outside waiting for Whitley.

Whitley himself was just as excited, sitting on the train bound for the lower city. He’d dressed a little more carefully this time, adding a blue and gray plaid sweater vest and low leather boots to his ensemble along with a satchel. Inside this satchel was a pair of ice skates, ones he hadn’t used in some time but luckily still fit. He’d spent more than an hour the night before checking and prepping them for today. After browbeating Mary into sneaking him the needed material, Whitley had polished the skates to perfection and even sharpened up the blades to ensure they’d been in peak form. He holds them tightly in his lap as the train car slowly comes to a stop at its destination.

Stepping out onto the platform and into the station Whitley wades through the crowd to the exit. He debates trying to sneak up on Penny again but is spotted before he can come to a decision.

Penny: Hey! Over here!

She calls out, waving him over from the closet street corner. Whitley turns and bolts straight for her, throwing the satchel straps over one shoulder as he goes straight for a hug. As soon as they make contact Whitley lays his head in the crack of Penny’s and breathes in deep. Taking in her essence and breathing out all the stress he’d been storing, Whitley feels instantly lighter. Her soothing presence and comforting scent putting him completely at ease. Penny wraps her arms around his shoulder and neck, giggling a little when his hair tickles her cheek.

Whitley: Gods, I missed you.

He whispers sweetly, Penny’s cheeks heat up as she responds in kind.

Penny: Missed you too.

After a long embrace they part, Whitley stealing another longing glaze and immediately notices the tent of pink on Penny’s lips.

Whitley: What’s this?

He asks, grasping Penny’s chin with his hand and tilting it upwards to get a better look. The gloss shimmers as Whitley holds a teasing finger right under her bottom lip.

Whitley: Is this-(chuckles)-are you wearing makeup?

Penny: J-just some lipgloss.

She stammers in response, face glowing beet red as she gently pushes Whitley’s hand away. He smirks at her reaction and then holds out an arm to her.

Whitley: Shall we?

Penny links her arm with his with a soft smile and they two begin their trek to the park. Thankfully it doesn’t take long as Penny guides them through the quickest route. The park itself looks like a stretch of pathways surrounded by deep snow, grass barely peeking out from the depths of it. There’s hardly anyone around besides some elderly people sitting on benches, playing chess on the public boards, or feeding the few flocks of birds that congregate in the area. Some wave as they pass when they notice Penny, a few inquiring about the young man she’s with. Phrases like “Who’s this?” “Is he a friend of yours?” “Is that your boyfriend?” and more are repetitively hurdled at Penny as they walk through the park. She brushes them off and tries to hurry past to avoid more prying while Whitley quietly chuckles under his mask, playfully waving back as they wade through the wave of nosy old people. Eventually, they reach their destination, the ice rink and playground.

The playground was nothing remarkable, just a metal jungle gym, some swings, seesaws, and monkey bars. Children were playing about all over the place, all dressed in thick winter coats that hardly seemed to slow down the running, jumping, and playing as the little ones enjoyed the snow-covered landscape. Opposite to that was the equally bustling ice rank where the older parkgoers make their best attempts at skating around the rink. Most just do careful rotations while others try to pull off tricks. Couples young and old hold hands as they skate together, teens do dumb tricks that raise the ire of the custodians working who promptly yell at them to knock it off and children hold on to training frames as their parent helps them get the hang of things.

Penny’s eyes shine in excitement at the sight of so many people out enjoying the day, meanwhile, Whitley is less than impressed. This was honestly the shabbiest rink he’d ever seen, completely outdoors with loaner skates that had been in circulation for five years at the least and a main building that most likely hadn't been renovated in the last decade. But seeing Penny’s excitement he pushes all that aside, as long as she’s happy and at his side the venue doesn’t matter.

Whitley: So, you ready to go skating or-

Penny: Yes!

She interrupts him, eagerness practically beaming off her.

Whitley: Okay then little miss go-getter, why don’t you go get some skates and I’ll meet you on the rink?

Penny: Okay! I’ll be right back! Don’t start without me!

She exclaimed joyfully before running off to the counter to borrow a pair of skates. Getting in line with others Penny waits patiently for her turn as others ahead of her get their skates and head to the ice.

Rink Attendant: Next.

The attendant calls as the last person in front of Penny steps out of the way, letting her move up to the front.

Penny: Hello! I like to borrow a pair of ice skates, please!

She asks, the slightly disinterested teen attendant gives her half a gaze before pushing a clipboard with the sigh in form over to her but pauses when he realizes who’s in front of him.

Rink Attendant: What the-are you are-are you the flying huntress lady? Penny, right?

Penny: Yes, that’s me.

Rink Attendant: Holy crap, you’re like a local hero! My little cousin is crazy about you, he won’t shut up about seeing you around town!

Penny: Aw, really? What’s his name?

Rink Attendant: Georgy.

Penny thinks for a moment, combing through her memories for a child with that name. And soon she finds it, recalling the face of a particularly excitable little boy among one of the groups of children she sees almost daily.

Penny: Oh, little Georgy. He should be turning seven this month, right?

Rink Attendant: Yeah, tomorrow actually! How’d you know?!

Penny: He told me the last time I helped his class cross the street to their elementary school, he was passing out invitations while in line. Please tell him I said happy birthday.

Rink Attendant: I will trust me I will! So, what did you need again?

Penny: Ice skates, please.

Rink Attendant: Alright, alright, what’s your shoe size?

Penny: Six and a half.

Rink Attendant: Okay, just put down your first and last name and your scroll number here and I’ll be right back with your skates.

Penny: Okay.

Penny notes down her name and number while the attendant goes over to the rack of skates and finds a pair in her size. After a few minutes, he returns and puts the skates on the counter.

Rink Attendant: Here you go, just remember to bring them back when you’re done.

Penny: Of course, thank you.

Penny grabs the skates and turns to walk away, as she’s leaving the attendant calls out to her.

Joey: Be the way my name’s Joey!

He half shouts, the attendant at the snack bar shaking her head disapprovingly. Penny, being no stranger to gaining admiration from her citizens, looks back at him and smiles.

Penny: Thanks again, Joey. I promise to return these in the best state possible.

She beams before running back over to the rink. Going up to the opening closest to the entrance, Penny spots Whitley standing in wait, holding onto the side while wearing his skates. He notices her approaching and waves her over.

Whitley: There you are, I thought you’d gotten lost again.

Penny: Sorry, the line was longer than I expected, I also met a relative of a fan of mine and made some light conversation.

Whitley: A fan? I didn’t know I was dating a celebrity.

He jests, Penny giggles at his joke as she sits down and removes her shoes.

Penny: I’m not a celebrity say per se, just very active in the protection of the city and the safety of its citizens. People took notice of my efforts and appreciate me for it.

Whitley: I see. So aside from being a great student, model soldier, and an amazing partner, you’re also a pillar of your community. Is there anything you can’t do?

He states with a wink, garnering another giggle as well as a blush from Penny while she pulls the skates onto her feet and starts tying the laces. Looking between them it’s obvious Whitley’s skates are the superior pair. White leather, in perfect condition with blades sharp enough to cut through the ice like butter. Meanwhile, Penny’s loaners were a worn dingy brown color that had clearly seen better days, the blades being the only saving grace on them. Penny is far too excited to notice or care about that whole Whitley silently contemplates getting her a pair as a gift for the next time they go skating. But before he can start thinking about what color she’d prefer; Penny gets up and attempts to stand in her skates.

Penny: Okay, they’re on! Now let’s-Whoa!

But she quickly loses her balance, Whitley quickly moving forward to catch her arm and help her stand up straight before she can fully tumble to the ground. Holding onto his arm, Penny has trouble keeping her footing on the thin blades.

Whitley: Easy, easy, just take it one step at a time.

Whitley advises, holding onto to Penny with on arm and the side of the rink with the other. Penny nods cautiously and slowly starts taking baby steps toward the rink, never letting Whitley’s hand go for a second. Her excitement quickly turns to nervousness as Penny’s never felt this unsteady on her feet before, legs shaking with apprehension at every step. She moves at a snail’s pace, inch by inch, and watches her feet until she’s right up against Whitley at the entrance to the rink. Seeing the tension in her movements Whitley gently steps back onto the ice and takes her other hand in his, gently guiding her out with him.

Whitley: Penny.

He calls, trying to distract her from her fear but it goes unheard.

Whitley: Penny!

He repeats, this time more forcefully. This does manage to grab her attention as Penny’s graze jerks up from the ground and onto Whitley.

Whitley: Keep your head up. You can’t see where you’re going if you keep looking down like that.

Penny: O-okay.

Whitley: Good, now relax. If you’re stiffen up like that, you’ll lock your knees and fall.

Penny: O-okay, okay.

Penny takes a few deep breaths and tries to relax her body, still holding onto Whitley as they stand on the ice. Once she stops shaking and her breathing evens out Whitley continues.

Whitley: Calm now?

Penny: Yeah.

Whitley: Great…Are you ready to try and move?

Penny hesitates for a moment, looking down at her feet again before looking back at Whitley. He seems so calm; his gaze is so soft as he stares at her, and his hands caress her arms gently. His demeanor is just so serene and comforting Penny wanted to dive straight into his arms and hold him close. But being in public and knowing she’d never get skating if she did, with a look of pure determination Penny nods yes.

Whitley: Okay. First things first, put your dominant foot forward.

Penny nods and cautiously puts her right foot forward.

Whitley: Okay, now I need you to lean your weight towards me and push forward.

Penny: Just move forward on only one foot?

She asks starting back down at her feet then looks back up, her nerves clearly getting to her again. Whitley, overcome with compassion and worry, tries to reassure her.

Whitley: It doesn’t have to be much, just do whatever you’re comfortable with. You can hold onto me for leverage, and make sure to raise your other foot as push off.

Penny: Okay.

Penny takes a big deep breath in, shuts her eyes, and pushes forward, Whitley moving backward to match her step. When she realizes she hasn’t fallen yet, opens her eyes and peeks around to see that she is still standing. Relieved and reassured Penny looks to Whitley with a smile, as if asking to take another step.

Whitley: Now the other.

He chimes, encouraging her to keep moving. She pushes off on her left foot and they move forward a bit. Feeling more confident, Penny keeps moving forward, her stripes getting bigger as they go. Through this, Whitley continues to hold her, moving backward at her pace with ease. As they skate along the long side of the rink Penny grows more comfortable and relaxes into the rhythm of their movements. It’s smooth sailing until they close in on one of the bends, Whitley looking back ahead of them to see how close they are to the curve.

Whitley: Okay, we’re coming up on a turn.

Penny: Oh no!

Penny’s eyes dilate with fear, but Whitley quickly reassures her.

Whitley: It’s okay. Just gently lean your weight away from the curve, I’ll help you balance.

Penny: Are you sure I won’t fall?!

Whitley: I promise you won’t, trust me.

Penny nods and as they hit the turn, she leans with Whitley, and they glide around the rounded edge of the rink. As they drift Penny stares into Whitley’s eyes, they glimmer with absolute admiration and trust as they gaze into hers. The look gives her peace of mind as they reach the other end of the curve.

Whitley: There we go. Now straight back up.

He chirps, causing Penny to giggle as they straighten out again. They glide around the rink a few times until Penny seems comfortable with her skating, only then does Whitley let go of one of Penny’s hands and skate alongside her. As they drift leisurely across the ice, Penny can’t help but gaze at the other skaters. Specifically, she looks in awe of the more seasoned ice dancers practicing their craft nearby. One girl, in particular, grabs her attention as the dancer moves closer to the center of the rink and performs a lay-back spin. The girl arches beautifully as twirls in one skate, tutu over her thermos haloing her waist as she spins. This display garners the amusement and astonishment of many on the rink, including Penny who releases of Whitley’s hand to applaud her. Seeing her attention taken off him, Whitley feels a tiny tinge of jealousy.

Whitley: It’s not that impressive, her execution was poor, and she could barely keep her form for more than a few seconds. I could do better.

He really could, Whitley was well-versed in the art of figure skating. Having spent years being trained by many master skaters alongside Weiss and Winter as part of their formative education. His skill was a performance level and though he hardly used this skill the training had been so intense most of the move set he was taught had been committed to muscle memory. And with a glint of playfulness in his eyes, Whitley moves away from Penny and towards the inner parts of the rink. Penny reaches out to with a confused expression on her face but Whitley just shots her wink and strides onward.

Whitley opens up his coat and increases his speed as he does a half routine around the rink before turning around and doing a backflip, landing elegantly on one leg. He then slides into a camel spin, upper body and left leg up in a horizontal position as he spins with his right. Once he spins out Whitley skates backward for a good distance until he builds up the momentum for a waltz jump into a double salchow then a triple axel.

Penny watches on in pure amazement, as do many of the other skaters on the rink. Seeing these reactions Whitley goes further and shows off his best footwork before capping his performance with a layback spin that folded into a sitting spin. There’s a small round of applause from the onlookers, Penny being the most enthusiastic as she fights the urge to jump up and down while clapping her heart out. Whitley notes her eagerness as he takes a dramatic bow before skating back to her side.

Penny: That was amazing!!!

Whitley: Thank you.

He says with a smirk, relishing in the brilliant sparkles of astonishment in Penny’s eyes.

Penny: I knew you were a good dancer, but this is a completely different art!

Whitley: Figure skating is a common aristocratic hobby in cold climates and as a child of affluence I’ve been in skates as long as I’ve been in dancing shoes.

Penny: Really?! Are there any other hidden talents you haven’t told me about?

She asks both teasingly and curiously, her sense of wonder greatly perked at the discovery of her boyfriend’s ice-dancing prowess.

Whitley: Of course, there are. But where’s the fun in just telling you?

He chirps before skating away, Penny following close behind. Their conversation continues as they glide around the rink.

Penny: So how many are there?

Whitley: Of what?

Penny: Your talents I don’t know.

Whitley: Hmm, hard to say. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me and I’m not too keen to share them yet.

Penny: Can you a least give me an estimate?

Whitley: And ruin the mystic of our relationship? Never!

He spouts in a fake dramatic tone, faux gobsmacked look, and his face and hand over his heart to aid his theatrics. Penny sighs and presses on.

Penny: Are you really that unwilling to tell, or do you just not trust me to know?

Whitley: What?

Penny: It’s okay if that’s why, I understand your reasoning. Just because we’ve grown close to each other doesn't mean that our trust in each other is absolute.

Whitley: Wait, that's not it at all!

He stops dead in his tracks, halting Penny in hers, and the two stand face-to-face on the ice.

Whitley: Look, Penny, there’s just-(sigh)-there’s a lot of things going on at home for right now and there’s a lot of history there I just…I just don’t think you’re ready to know just yet.

Penny: I…I know.

Whitley: I do trust you, Penny. I love being that I can be myself, my true self with you. And while I’d love to tell you…everything about me there’s just…

Whitley sighs, the weight of all the horrors in his life becoming unbearably heavy as he tries to speak. He takes her hands in his, holding them tenderly as he gazed directly onto her eyes.

Whitley: There are just some things that are better left unsaid for the time being.

Penny: I-I…uh..

Penny’s breath hitches and she feels a chill up her spine. She knew Whitley had his secrets, Penny had her own, but with all the understanding and kindness he’d given her, she couldn't help the cloud of guilt that hung over her head. And knowing now that it was only a matter of in when not if made that cloud hung more like a guillotine’s blade, the rope holding it up slowly being cut away by Whitley’s continued earnestly.

How ironic, the girl who could tell no lies was suddenly terrified by incoming truths.

Seeing the uncertainty on her face Whitley reaches up to caress one of her cheeks, concerned that he’d accidentally hit a sore spot for her.

Whitley: I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-

Penny: Hey, can you teach me some of your skating moves?!

Penny asks her face lit up with normal joyous enthusiasm, all hints of worry seemingly blasting themselves off her in a fraction of a second. Whitley is taken aback at the tone shift, usually, he’s the one to cut the conversation when things got too heavy but today Penny had beaten him to the punch.

Whitley: Really?

Penny: Yes! I really want to try the spins! They looked so fun!

Whitley: Well, those aren’t beginner-level tricks. Maybe we can try something simpler like a bunny hop.

Penny: Bunny hop? What’s that?!

Whitley demonstrates, doing a little hop from one place to another without losing balance. Penny’s immediately invested and soon their date turns into a short beginner ice skating lesson. The tense of their previous discussion dies down but the sting of it lingers as both try hard to push passed it. After a couple of hours on the rink, it's lunchtime. Penny turns in her skates, Joey assisting her again and tries to slide her a small slip of paper with his number on it, but Whitley’s quick hands and icy gaze dashes the attempted flirt before Penny can even notice. With that settled the couple considered their options, Penny volunteering the snack bar as the quick and easy pick. Whitley quickly rejects this on the ground that their hot chocolate was made with mostly hot water and the condiment dispenser looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks which Penny agrees with. So they go with the original plan, cart vendors. One of the things Soltais was prided on, especially when it came to tourism, was its status as a winter wonderland. Beautiful snow fell often, meaning there was always a chance for winter games and winter foods that the rest of the world only enjoyed in mass during their cold seasons. This extended to food vendors all over both cities, and with it being lunchtime Penny and Whitley don’t have to go far to find some. Carts serving mini meat pies, hot sandwiches, soups, and many more warm delights were common places in parks and shopping areas in Mantle. And being in the lower city on a weekend meant some interesting vendors could be found. Foreign vendors from all over the globe would petal their offerings around heavily populated areas in both but Mantle’s were known for being both convenient and inexpensive without a loss in taste.

With no lack of options, Penny and Whitley wander for a moment, searching for something good to eat. In their searching, the cries of one particular vendor catches Penny’s attention.

Vendor: Corn Dog! Nice Thick, Hot, and Cheesy Mistrial Style Corn Doges!

He cries, Penny looks over at his setup and is a little surprised. It’s larger than the normal hotdog stands, with a pot of batter and a fryer built into it along with a session for toppings which themselves are unusual. Sliced potatoes, crushed-up spicy chips, even corn cereal and sugar. It’s only when the next person in line for the stand orders does Penny understands the big difference between this corn dog and a regular one as the vendor reaches into the small refrigerator and pulls out two long chopsticks both skewered with half with a beef sausage and half mozzarella cheese. After the vendor dunks the skewers into the batter and spins them around to gather up a good coat, he drops them right into the boiling fry oil. The smell the frying gives off is oddly sweet, almost like a donut, which draws Penny in even more. Once the pair is done cooking the vendor pulls them out and places them on paper serving boats before sprinkling on sugar and spraying on lines of ketchup and mustard. The sight is mouth-watering, and the very easily excitable Penny can’t help but Whitley over to share her discovery. Whitley is…less than eager about her findings, he hadn’t really had junk food in years and honestly was too well-versed in nutrition to actively seek it out. But the smell coming off the stand was delightful, and he was already breaking many of his father’s rules just by being here, so what’s the harm in having a little treat?

They get in line and order two, one regular and one with potatoes, and sit down at a nearby bench to eat. Penny takes the original style while Whitley has the potato fried, as per usual Penny blows on her to cool it before her excitement and takes a premature bite. It’s hot, crunchy, and gooey as her teeth break through the crust and into the melted cheese underneath. The condiments give it a multilayered undertone as the sugar combines with the tangy ketchup and mustard. It’s a wonderful flavor mix, dancing on Penny’s tongue as she buffs and puffs to cool it down before swallowing. Hungry and entranced by Penny’s display of enjoyment Whitley also takes a hesitant bite. At first, there’s an odd sense of nostalgia as his taste buds are hit with a familiar flavor. It’s potato fritters, something his mother would sneak him and his sisters when they went out with her father before he became too ill to get out of bed. It’s a comforting flavor that is only amplified by the cheese and condiments. As they eat, Penny accidentally gets a nice cheese stretch going as she pulls back from a bite. Intrigued she pulls it further away only for the stringy cheese to stretch longer and longer. The feat amuses her greatly and she turns to show Whitley the silly situation she’s in.

Penny: Hmm!

She mutters, holding the other end of the cheese rope in her mouth while holding the source in Whitley’s face to see. Whitley chuckles at the ridiculous mess she’s made then without even two seconds of thought he bites off the other end from the corndog and sucks the string of cheese into his mouth. Now connected to her by a thin thread of mozzarella Whitley immediately started eating the cheese, carefully gnawing so the string wouldn't break as he got closer and closer to Penny’s mouth. Said girl is completely stunned by yet another bold move from her boyfriend, only regaining her sense when his lips are only centimeters from touching hers. Once out of her trance, Penny bites down hard, cuts the string from her end, and slurs up the remaining cheese. Whitley smirked at her shyness and finished off the rest of his half of the string before continuing to eat his corn dog.

Once lunch is over, they play in the snow for a bit. Penny rolls up big balls of snow for the snowman while Whitley gathers sticks and stones to decorate it. He smoothes out some of the shapes while Penny stacks the snow and they put the face on together. The first is a nicely made traditional snowman, minus the black top hat, festive scarf, and carrot nose.

Whitley: And he’s done. Not too bad for a locally sourced snowman if I do say so myself.

Penny: He looks so good, there’s hardly any big lumps or cracks in him either!

Whitley: You're welcome, smoothing him out without damaging his structure wasn’t easy but I think he was worth the effort.

Penny: Thank you for your contribution, Whitley, I really appreciate it. Now what do we name him?

Whitley: I’m not sure, mind throwing out some suggestions?

Penny: Hmm.

Penny thinks for a moment, names were a very subjective topic. The standard changes depending on what was being named. Animals could be named after people, food, and objects due to being living creatures but objects were significantly less emotionally precious to be given such monikers. Most often an object is named in relation to what it is. Racking her brain for everything snow-related, Penny comes up with a short list of possible names.

Penny: Snowdrop?

Whitley: That’s a little too feminine for a snowman.

Penny: Snowburg?

Whitley: I believe that’s the name of festive festive-themed glass workshop.

Penny: Snowdust?

Whitley: That’s the street name of at least three different illegal substances.

Penny: Oh.

Penny pauses again, trying her hardest to come up with something suitable for the lovely snow pal she’d created with her beloved. It had to be something memorable to commemorate the moment so she expanded her perimeters. And after several moments of silent contemplation, Penny finally decides what to name the snowman.

Penny: How about…. Lord Snowington!

She announces, proud of her choice as her boyfriend looks at her completely bewildered by her name choice.

Whitley..., Excuse me, could you repeat that?

Penny: His name is Lord Snowington!

Whitley: And what spurred this name into being?

Penny: Well, he’d made of snow but very well-crafted, so I gave him the Lord title and added the ington on as it’s commonly associated with people of wealth and higher standing.

She explains. Whitley takes a moment to absorb this information and finds himself laughing at Penny’s absurd reasoning. It was so on theme for her to use such sound logic in the most bizarre ways.

Whitley: I see. (chuckles) Well Lord Snowington it is then!

With that, their creation is dubbed Lord Snowington, and the pair soon decide he needs a companion. Unfortunately, by the time they begin building the second one a group of young teenagers, most like middle schoolers, have taken notice of their work and aim to ruin the fun. Without prompting one throws a snowball directly at the snowman’s head, only to be intercepted by Penny’s incredible speed.

Penny; Hey! Leave our snowman alone.

She shouts, holding the attempted means of snow destruction in her hand. The malicious juveniles take her stance as a challenge and quickly start gathering up snow.

Whitley: Looks like they want a fight.

Penny: I can see that, are you okay with engaging in light combat?

Whitley: Well, I haven’t thrown a snowball in years, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Besides they’ve disrespected Lord Snowington, and that can’t stand.

Penny: Okay, then get ready for battle!

She cries before digging down to the ground and making her own snow ammunition. Penny had always wanted to have a snowball fight and she wasn’t gonna waste the chance to cut losses. Soon it’s an all-out war! The middle schoolers start hurling snowballs at the couple, their aim isn’t the best and their form is clumsy but they’re giving it their all. Despite being outnumbered both Penny and Whitley are quick-footed and coordinated enough to dodge the onslaught. When the opportunity to strike back comes Penny stands firm with direct attacks, throwing snowballs at those closest by while she guards Lord Snowington. Whitley takes a stealthier approach, compacting his snowballs to be steadier and aiming for weak points like stomach and legs to trip up their already messy formation.

In the end, the middle schoolers admit defeat and take off, Lord Snowington still standing in the aftermath. By the time Whitley has to get going they’ve made a little snow family, Lord Snowington Lady Snowington, their daughter Valley, and their pet snow bunny Carrot. Penny waves their snow friends goodbye as they leave the park, hoping they might last long enough to see again the next time she patrols the area. As they walk back to the station Whitley feels a wave of fatigue washes over him, all the physical activity draining the commonly sedentary young man. It’s been so long since he’d had that much fun while being so active his usual sluggishness is replaced by a more fulfilled sense of tiredness. Still, his body cries for rest and yawns, Whitley reaching up to cover his mouth on reflex only to be met by the fabric of his mask over his skin. Penny giggles at his clumsy moment and Whitley responds by playfully pinching her cheek as they continue walking.

This was bliss to him, being fun and silly with someone who loved and cared for him. Though it did make going back up even harder, sometimes just looking at her made Whitley want to stay and never look back. But he knew the consequences that would bring, and he had goals to fulfill before he could truly act as he wished.

Whitley: Just a little longer. Two more years at the most and less than that if I can find a big enough weak point to exploit until I’m of age.

Whitley muses as he bids Penny farewell before walking into the train station. He looks back once before going through the entrance, being graced with the view of Penny still waving him goodbye, an innocent smile bright on her face and eyes full of warmth. What a shame that she fell for someone like him, a person tangled up in a world so bleak it was eating him alive. What would she think of him if she knew the things he’d witnessed? How would she see him if she knew of the monsters in his company more often than not? What would she do if she knew what he was willing to do for his freedom and how much he’d already done for it? Whitley didn’t know but deep down he was sure that the less she knew of his true nature the better.

Whitley: Hopefully I can keep this clean enough to stay with her. Getting blood on those soft hands would be too cruel.

He thinks, marching towards the platform for his train, apathetic towards his departure back to the he he calls home. Still, the lingering scent of Penny on his clothes and the warmth her visage gave him was enough to keep him sane. He’d call her again tonight and the next morning, missing her every second until they met again. It was a torturous cycle but far kinder than any other he’d experienced. And for Whitley, that was more than enough.