#at this point i just feing innocence

[jorrated]

I used to hate Christmas and family-related holidays but then i realized i could just be insane and create problems. today i asked about who everyone was going to vote for in the next election

[jaemlonfz]

seventeen loves when you...

seventeen (separate) x fem! reader

tw: the lowercase letters are intentional, there's the explanation and then pure filth, fucking in the couch, cheating on games, morning sex, s/o jealous, biting, sex in a restaurant, fingerring, sex in the shower, phone dirty talking, fucking on the kitchen, sex with clothes, reverse cowgirl, sex on the yard, cowgirl, naked photo, stocking, fucking thights, high heels, eating pussy, lmk if i forgot something

wc: 3,2k

synopsis: seventeen loves when you do certain things

author's note: i really hope you like it, i didn't review it, the chan part is so small i'm sorry, reblog and like if you enjoyed reading it

seungcheol loves when you dress all in black

It doesn't matter if you're wearing his black shirt and baggy black sweatpants, or a beautiful long black dress with a slit up your leg, or even a black bra with matching panties. seungcheol claims that you look like a different person when you dress all in black, but he never told you that, he likes the suspense of coming home and randomly seeing you all in black, he likes to feel the butterflies in his stomach when he calls you to a romantic dinner and you're going to meet at the restaurant, he looks at the door anxiously wondering if you're going to arrive in the breathtaking black dress he bought. He likes the suspense of when you're making out, when he's about to rip your shirt and see your breasts tied up in a black bra that he bought with this exact occasion in mind.

seungcheol enjoys the anxious suspense and the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing you in black just for him.

-

“fuck” seungcheol grunted. you were making out on the couch when he decided to take off your shirt.

it’s not like you knew you were going to have sex with him today, but you decided to wear the beautiful black bra he bought you a few days ago. “what is it cheol?” you asked seeing your boyfriend's ears turn red and his breath getting heavier. “let me spoil you more” he said kissing your neck “you look so beautiful with my gifts”

jeonghan loves when you pull a prank on him

usually you have to be 100% attentive when around jeonghan, because how much this man likes to prank you is really absurd, but as you're still a bit slow it's very likely that you'll fall for 99% of his pranks.

and since jeonghan knows you'r not the type to joke with people the way he does, he forget to be cautious around you and simply doesn't remember to pay attention to the point where he notices some kind of joke coming up. so when you guys are playing one and you subtly put some cards under your leg, jeonghan didn't even imagine it or even thought about it. so when you won the game and bragged to his face and showing your victory in his face, he saw the cards on the floor and was so surprised

"you cheated?" he said indignantly, and when you nodded and let out a giggle jeonghan almost died

-

“my princess is so beautiful” jeonghan said as he kissed the inside of your thighs with your legs next to your head “I think I’m corrupting your innocence, I never imagined my princess cheating” he smiled at you

“I have to teach you a lesson now”

joshua loves when you wake him up with kisses

kissing is common for a normal couple, and it's common for you and joshua too. feeling your kisses for joshua is like having a dictionary of how you feel, in a week of dating joshua had already started to study your ways of kissing, and now after months he knows how to differentiate precisely what each of your kisses means.

It's as if he made a list with each form of kiss and each meaning, there's the forgiveness kiss, the horny kiss, the goodbye kiss, among other kisses, and he can definitely choose his favorite kiss, the good morning kiss.

joshua states with absolute certainty that your good morning kiss is the best, when you're still sleepy but you know he has to wake up, so you remove the strands of hair from his eyes and his cheek and press kisses on his face until you feel the trembling.

joshua says that this is the best feeling in the world, and that he wouldn't trade it for anything. he hates having to sleep on you for a long time when he needs to, so he does everything he can to avoid it.

joshua likes to feel you on top of him, kissing your face until you see his eyes open, the smile is the first thing he does when he wakes up with you. then he wishes you a good day and kisses your lips like never before. he ridiculously falls even more in love with you every morning he wakes up next to you

-

“shua” you print his name out of your mouth in your morning panting, joshua asked you to wake him up earlier than usual today, and when you woke him up you discovered why.

“I love your kisses in the morning, I love you even more seeing the sunlight on your body” he said on top of you, it was slow and sly sex in the sunlight, you were so sleepy but it was impossible to sleep with joshua on top of you making your morning better and better

junhui loves when you get jealous of him

it's not that junhui rubs himself with other people to see you jealous, most of the time he doesn't even know that he's making you get jealous until he sees your face.

junhui notice that he likes to see you jealous for three reasons:

first, your expression, you set your jaw almost as if you wanted to break your teeth, your gaze darkens and the tension in the air increases and you become more and more hot. second: it's another way for you to affirm that he's yours, that junhui belongs to you, and seeing him around other people makes you so angry just thinking about the likelihood of junhui no longer being yours. and it makes him so fucking hard third: he comforts you, it may seem strange but junhui loves the conversation after your jealousy, he loves convincing you that he belongs to you and that he would never stop belonging, he likes to tell you that

-

“oh my love, you look so cute when you’re jealous” you couldn’t tell if you were being devoured more by junhui’s eyes or by his mouth.

junhui was destroying your cunt, a session of kisses, bites and spit, all in your direction, you were so close to cumming but your pride didn't want to give in so easily

“come on baby, don’t hold back, become mine like i am yours”

soonyoung loves when you bite him

when soonyoung saw that he liked being bitten by you, he was embarrassed. it was like he wanted to hide it from you and pretend like he never noticed it, but you noticed it with him.

after that, every time you cuddled or hugged, you bit him lightly. you bit his arm or his shoulders, sometimes you would even bit his ear just to see him sighing heavily with red cheeks.

you bit him when you was going to tell him a secret, making it impossible for you to get away from him without biting a little piece of his ear, or when he tickled you and to make him stop you would bit his arm, but it wasn't your fault that your boyfriend was someone so “biteable”

-

soonyoung was having the time of his life, he had you fucking in a restaurant bathroom, but it was a shame that you had to keep quiet to never hear your filth, so you bit him to keep quiet.

as soonyoung held your legs in the air like you were an accessorized the wall, you bit his neck to keep you from screaming your dirty thoughts, and that made soonyoung's dick twitch inside you.

you could even feel a weakness in the grip of his hands, he deconstructed himself with your bite and you were never more proud

wonwoo loves when you wear your glasses

glasses bothered you, and it wasn't the model's fault, you've been wearing glasses since you were a child and you've changed frames several times and they all sucked, so you switched to contact lenses when you became a teenager and you never stopped using them. However, there are certain occasions where using a lens can be a lot of work, for example, it's nighttime and you're ready to sleep and you just want to read a message that your boyfriend sent, until you sanitize your hand, put the lens on, then you have to sanitize the lens and store it in the necessary place, this is a waste of time, so in situations like this you use your glasses, and wonwoo just watches.

wonwoo observes how sexy you look in glasses, he observes how the black frames enhance your look and your expressions, he observes all of this in complete silence.

on a specific night, he completely lost his sanity, he was lying on the couch with his head resting on your lap when he decided to show you a video of a kitten that appeared on his Instagram, and you, as a person who doesn't see anything and is super lazy, decided not to go through the lens process and just picked up the glasses that were on the desk next to you. wonwoo saw you fitting the glasses on your face, he saw the glasses sliding down your nose and completely forgot about the video he showed you, which made you smile stupidly. he loved your glasses

-

“you look so beautiful in them” wonwoo said, fucking your soul on the couch. your knee was on your chest as you hugged them to keep your legs up in the air

“my love looks so beautiful with glasses, like a princess” he said, becoming more and more shameless in his thoughts “I’m only going to fuck you now when you wear glasses”

jihoon loves when you understand him without making any questions

even though jihoon was an independent man, he needed to be careful, and you loved helping him. it's not that you pressured him and were on top of him all the time, but you would always be there when he needed you.

jihoon spent weeks in the studio, and during that week there were a few times he would go out to eat something and there were a few times when he would go a day without eating, and when he realized that the next day would be like that he would call you and you would just go.

you would spent the afternoon with him, reminding him to eat, always placing bowls of soup by his side, helping him with music when necessary, or simply keeping him company, and there was nothing that jihoon liked more than your company

-

“you are such a good girlfriend coming to keep me company, feeding me, helping me with everything” he said kissing her belly “of course I have to make it up to you”

he praised you and showered you with kisses while also filling your pussy with his fingers.

jihoon worked magic inside you as thanks, and that was better than any gift you could receive

dokyeom loves when you shower with him

bath is something intimate, it's your moment with yourself. so in the first few months of dating, when you shout at seokmin to join you in the shower he definitely lost his mind, and since then that has become his favorite quote

seokmin loves when whenever you're going to an event together, and even though you're going to get late, you ask him to get into the hot water next to you. he loves kissing you while you rub him with the soap, he loves seeing your smile when he rubs your back, he loves singing along with you while you rinse off together

when he's on a tour in Korea, he takes you to the hotel so you can “evaluate” the shower, but that's just an excuse to see you having fun in the shower with him

- “minnie I miss you so much” you said whimpering next to your phone. at that moment your boyfriend was on a tour in another country. it was still afternoon in korea but seokmin was already getting ready for bed

“baby you should see this bathroom, it’s so good” he said and you could hear the rustle of clothes, he must be changing “you would look so hot showering in this bathroom, I would fuck you so good under it, we should come here to this hotel again some day, but I'm going to eat you in the shower.”

“fuck seokmin”

mingyu loves when you cook for him

mingyu is known in his friend group for being the guy who cooks, the only person who stops in the kitchen and they don't have to worry. so after receiving this title mingyu started cooking, volunteering without saying anything, as if he were the his function, so when he comes home and sees you in your apron fussing over some pot on the stove it's like you've lifted a weight off his shoulders, and he loves you so much for it.

and mingyu isn't relieved just by the fact that he doesn't have to cook, he simply loves his food. he loves the love you put on the meals, he loves seeing you humming some music while serving food on plates. that is something that warms his heart. but what about when you make his favorite food? mingyu is trying to not to ask you to marry him right away.

“baby am I going crazy or did you make my favorite meal?”, he said as soon as he entered the apartment, “of course I made your favorite meal, you deserve it” you smiled ass you saw your boyfriend taking off his shoes to enter the home.

-

“how beautiful can you be making food? did I tell you that you look really hot in that apron?” mingyu spoke as he bent you over the kitchen counter, brushing your entrance

“gyu…” you spoke slyly, your cheeks flushed and your ass red thanks to the slaps you received a few minutes ago

“I didn't know you looked so wonderful while cooking, I think you'll have to do this every day” he said whispering in your ear

minghao loves when you wear miniskirts

it doesn't matter if it's winter or summer, you'll wear miniskirts, and minghao loves it.

minghao loves seeing your legs exposed, whether at home or in public, he doesn't feel jealous or think it's too vulgar for you to leave the house like that, he simply loves it. minghao love when you guys are walking on the sidewalk and there's a strong wind and you have to lower a small amount of fabric that covers your legs. minghao love seeing you dying of embarrassment because you forgot to put a pillow on top of your legs and he could see your wet panties.

minghao loves your miniskirts.

-

minghao love when you sit on top of him, with your pussy fitted onto his dick, he loves watching you ride him and see your skirt sway

“minghao let me take off my skirt” you complained of fabric that bothered you when you shook on minghao’s dick.

“but you look so beautiful with it, I can see your ass so perfectly with it” he said while kissing your neck. “you should use it more often”

seungkwan loves when you watch the sunrise with him

you always loved waking up early to watch the sun rise, and when your relationship with seungkwan began you started sharing this hobby, you both started waking up together to see the wonderful landscape with eachothers company.

seeing the sun rise was like seeing the day begin, and seeing the sun rise with seungkwan was like knowing that you would have another day by your side, and it was a wonderful feeling.

even when far apart, you like to wake up early and take a photo of the sky to share with each other. it was like it was your morning ritual. seungkwan loved seeing you in the sunlight, he loved seeing the reflection of the sun when he looked intensely into your eyes.

at your house there was a backyard where you would lie on the grass and watch the sky together, but there are days when you don't just lie down.

-

you were on top of seungkwan warming him with your hottest part, the sun hadn't come up yet and you planned to wait like every morning with your pajama shirt draped over your shoulder he could see your boob, which he was playing with until now, red and swollen, you could see your purple neck with the marks from the day before, you looked so beautiful being all his, and the beauty it only got bigger when the sun came up behind you.

seungkwan couldn't help it and took a photo, you on top of him in the most beautiful pajama set, your chest exposed and your neck red, your pussy warming him early in the morning and the bright sky behind

vernon loves when you wear high socks

you see that your boyfriend likes your legs in an episode of a show where you and your group wear school clothes, the famous uniform with a shirt, blazer, skirt, a high pair of socks and a pair of black flip-flops. you noticed that vernon liked something about your outfit that day, but didn't know what it was, so we wore it on separate days to see what happened.

you had already discarded the shirt and blazer as they are things you wear very often and vernon frankly sometimes doesn't even notice, so you had the skirt and socks left.

the skirt you wore on a date, you were going to an ice cream shop and this was the perfect opportunity for you to test your theory, but when vernon didn't say anything it really took you by surprise after all it was what you suspected most.

but when you finally put on some random shorts with socks that reached halfway up your thighs you saw it. vernon couldn't look at your face without blushing and stuttering constantly, you barely touched him and you could hear your heart beating faster and faster, that's when you saw that your boyfriend loved seeing a stocking that suffocated your thighs

-

“vernon” you cried out of need, lying on the mattress “please”

“please what, kitten? use your words with me” vernon said sinic smile to you, who was crying beneath him

“fuck my pussy please” your cheek even hotter tha before. vernon was using you now, but not where you wanted him to.

“but your thighs are so beautiful, I have to fuck them” he said rubbing his dick between your legs, it had been at least an hour that vernon had been teasing you and doing nothing but using your thighs.

chan loves when you wear high heels

chan likes absurd high heels. he likes heels that would make him the same height as yours or perhaps smaller.

he doesn't have a specific reason for that, but it's something he loves so much, looking to the side and seeing you without having to lower his head, or maybe even having to look up to appreciate your pretty face.

chan likes to see you above him, it just turns him on, for no particular reason.

chan can feel his body shiver when he looks at your feet and sees them strapped into 10 inches heels.

damn chan loves seeing you tall

-

he loves seeing your feet 10 inches higher in the air while he eats you like no one else.

chan is starved for you on any occasion, but when you wear heels, he lives to see your legs numb in the air while he gives you the head you deserve.

“put those feet in the air while I fuck the life out of you.”

[halfvalid]

Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss

intertwined ribbons

ABOUT

alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated

rating: general audiences/teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.

tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor

author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol

(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)

“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 

“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 

“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 

“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 

You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 

“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 

“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 

You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 

You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 

Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 

“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”

Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 

You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 

“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 

“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 

Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 

“I am not—”

“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 

You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 

You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—

“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 

“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 

“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 

You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 

“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 

With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 

“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 

You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 

“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 

The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 

“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 

You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 

“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 

You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 

Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 

Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 

You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 

“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 

“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 

Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 

The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 

“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 

You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.

A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.

“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 

Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 

“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 

“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 

“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 

You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 

Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”

You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 

“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 

You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 

“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 

You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 

The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 

“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 

Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 

“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 

“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 

“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 

You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 

“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 

“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 

“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 

“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 

“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 

“Okay, so neither of us do.” 

Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”

You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 

“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 

“Uh, nothing.” 

“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 

It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 

“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 

“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 

“Well?” Zoro prompted. 

“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 

“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 

You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 

“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t.” 

You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 

Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 

“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 

“Positive. It’s all me.” 

“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”

“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 

You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.

You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 

There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”

“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 

There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 

Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 

“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 

“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 

“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 

“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 

You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 

“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 

“Hm?” 

“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 

“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”

Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 

You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 

“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 

“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 

“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 

Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 

“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 

You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 

You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 

Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 

You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 

He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 

You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 

Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 

He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.

So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 

The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 

Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 

“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 

“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 

“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 

“First?” you prompted. 

Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.

A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 

The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 

A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”

“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.

“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 

“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”

“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 

“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 

You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 

© halfvalid 2023

[ghostswoman]

hi, could you do an anakin x shy/innocent reader, preferably angst? i would love to see the dynamic, thanks!

Anakin Skywalker x shy/innocent,fem!reader

Important: angst,yelling mentioning,height difference,slightly suggestive, Jedi master anakin, mean anakin,flirty anakin,slightly rough anakin,kissing.

Everything completely changed after you joined the jedi order as like a personal nurse for the chosen one,Anakin Skywalker. He was known for not really caring if he got hurt or not and that always meant more and more work for you to do on the tall brunette,you could easily countdown in your mind when him and Obi-wan came back from a mission how long it would take for Anakin to either yell for you or Obi-wan dragging his battered self towards you. One huge thing you never really got used to was Anakin’s loudness or his huge talent for making flirty comments that you never really got especially because they were always kind of dedicated towards you and your innocence? You never thought of yourself as like a white swan that wasn’t tainted but you could definitely say that you were not as experienced as may some other girls.His favorite comment was about how you always looked at him as if he hung the stars and the moon up in the sky or of how you always were clinging to every word his lips left.

Today his mood was rather one of a feral mad dog. His mood completely shocked you first as he just walked past you and didn’t even gave you the chance of saying a simple good morning. He completely stormed past you in the big hallway while his black jedi robe flew with his harsh angered steps while you were just standing there trying to think of what to do? Should you follow him and try to soften his mood? Or should you just ignore his sour mood?

Softly fiddling with your own fingers while keeping your gaze on the white shiny floor as you made up your mind and nodded to yourself as if saying ‘yes let’s try to lighten up his mood’. Raising up your gaze and starting to walk towards the direction Anakin just stormed to as you notice that he made his way into the big training room but what you didn’t like how the vibe inside felt. Inside you fe the anger practically oozing out of every pore of Anakin’s being as his blue eyes were focus on his clenching metallic and normal hand while his jaw was clenching hardly as you could see his jawline get even more prominent than it usually already is.

Slowly making your way to his tall figure as he whirled around and his hard gaze meet your soft one. “What you want? Trying to get on my nerves don’t need your stuttering self right now.” You felt your own heart slightly cracking a bit as you just lowered your gaze as you take a deep breath in. “No I just wanted to see what happened?”. He scoffed as his face forms into a deeper frown making his way towards you as he quickly opened his clenched fist and clenched it together right after the veins on his thickening from the pressure he is putting on his hand. “You are like a little pooch always running after me like you are some obedient little lap dog,are you that y/n?” His voice was cold and not the usual soft voice he spoke to you with,no it was rather degrading like he wanted to take his anger out on you.

“No I’m not…” your voice cracking slightly as you eyes slowly racked up his strong chest meeting his stormy blue eyes you could practically taste his anger on your tongue. He let out a cold chuckle as he leaned down meeting your eyes on eye level. “Then why are your acting like I’m some kind of master for you? Hm?” As he let that out he leans his head slightly towards the side while his voice was sounding like some kind of thunderstorm as he focused on speaking with his chest voice while his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to analyze you even more than he already does. His soft pink lips curling into a mocking smirk as he nudges your chin up with his point finger making you look at him. Instinctively you meet his eyes as some goosebumps licked up your neck and spine as you could smell Anakin’s minty breath.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you could now also smell the leathery cologne he always wears. The smell always made you want to curl up into a ball at his feet and listening to his voice that always made you want to obey and make him happy with what you did. Especially when you fixed some wounds on his hands or some blaster wounds he came with to the temple quite often. But now this feeling made you feel tingly and some kind of excited but also very shy as usual when Anakin was so near towards your body,he always made your body heat up like a broken heater and you never fully knew why. Maybe because of his dominating gaze he always wore or his strong and confident aura he brought with him everywhere he steps inside.

“All in your mind again huh?” His voice mocking your zoned out gaze that was stuck on his face while he takes some more steps towards you as he leaned his head more down to meet your soft eyes that were just focused on him. Just how he liked it. As you softly try to shake the daze out of your head as you could hear him chuckling as he just smiles at how dazed and completely out of your mind you were just because of him standing more near towards you. He softly rubs his thumb over you plush bottom lip while focusing his eyes on your lips as his body moves more towards you as his chest almost bumped against yours. “Always so focused on me hm sweetheart? That’s how I like it.”

Leaning down more as his normal hand softly cradled your chin as your eyes widen slightly as you sense how near he is to you and especially how almost your lips are touching. You could feel the warmth seeping from his strong chest and entering your own chest as you almost let out a satisfied sigh at the warmth. As you could feel his thumb softly rubbing over your cupids bow and how rough his fingertip is but you enjoy it,it shows how much he works with his hands or how he always said with his whole being. His metallic hands softly lifts and lays itself on your waist as he pulls you more towards him as your chests were now completely touching. Your hands instinctively lay onto his muscle clawed chest softly peeking shyly up at him as you could feel his chest rumble with a soft chuckle coming from him.

“You look quite stunned sweetheart? Did I scare you?” Quickly shaking your head as your eyes were still focused on him. He hummed softly as he leaned down as you now not just could feel his breath brush delicately against your lips no you could also almost taste the minty breath escaping his mouth. Blinking dazed up at him as his hand that was now laying on the nape of your neck pushes you forward as your lips finally connected. As if thousand tingles went through your body you softly hum happily into the kiss as you feel Anakin’s lips that are still connected to yours softly pull into a soft smile. Pulling softly away from the kiss he softly nudges your chin up again. “Better be only my lap pooch y/n.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:

Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.

Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.

It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.

The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.

At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.

And they'd brought rocks.

####

Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:

"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.

Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.

He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.

####

Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"

"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.

"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"

"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."

"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.

"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."

"I don't wanna get arrested!"

"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."

Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.

"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"

"What do you want me to draw you doing?"

"The coolest thing you can think of."

Mabel considered that, and got to work.

The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"

Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"

Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.

"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."

"I'm not, I promise!"

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"Um."

"Let me see!"

"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"

Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"

"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."

"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."

Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."

"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"

"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."

"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"

"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"

"Chills."

"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"

####

At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.

"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."

####

"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.

Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."

Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"

Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"

"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"

"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"

"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."

"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Aw, really? Thanks!"

"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."

"Don't do that, though."

"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.

Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"

"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."

Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.

And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.

"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.

"So brush it!"

"No. Never. You can't make me."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"

"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.

Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"

Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."

"I'll be right back!"

She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.

"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."

Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."

"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."

Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.

And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.

####

Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.

Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet. 

"Truth or dare," Bill said.

"Dare!"

"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."

"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"

"That's easy! Gasoline!"

"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."

"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"

Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."

Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"

"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"

"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"

Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.

####

Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"

"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"

"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"

"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"

"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"

"What?"

Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"

####

It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.

Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.

They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill—which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.

"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."

Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"

Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"

"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"

Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"

####

As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"

"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."

"Oh right."

Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.

"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."

"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"

Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.

For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.

"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.

"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"

Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."

"Careful—"

Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.

Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.

Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.

Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"

Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—

—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"

Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.

Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"

Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.

The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.

Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"

They looked at Bill.

Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.

They bolted up the stairs.

Bill charged after them.

They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"

"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.

They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.

They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.

"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."

The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.

They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"

"Which craft supplies?!"

The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"

"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"

Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"

Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"

His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"

Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"

"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"

Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"

"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"

From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"

There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."

"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.

Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.

They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.

Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.

Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"

They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"

Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.

"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.

Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.

Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.

Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.

Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"

"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"

But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.

Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"

Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"

Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—

Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."

And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.

Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?

"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."

"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.

"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."

"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."

Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."

"You too," Mabel said weakly.

Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.

From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"

"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."

"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."

Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."

Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."

"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"

"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"

Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"

Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me." 

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"

"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.

"Thanks, man."

Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers.  In the dark, the colors were all faded.

This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.

She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.

####

In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.

There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.

And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.

He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.

His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.

But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.

He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.

He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.

What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?

The hair. A bit of his flesh.

Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.

He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.

He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.

His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.

When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.

The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes. 

He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.

He needed gold.

####

(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)

[girls-alias]

Dean's Dream P9

Title: Dean's Dream Part 9

Words: 1,611

Relations: Dean Winchester X reader.

TW: Strong language

Req: @l7axr, @qinnroki, @deans-baby-momma, @angelofdarkness69

Part 8

Third-person POV:

Dean smiled, admiring Y/N's lips as she spoke, giggled or even listened to Sam. She was always smiling because she was in Dean's arms. Dean only came out of reality when Y/N whipped her head around to look at Dean confused. His eyebrows furrowed before rising, showing he wasn't listening and was not guilty of whatever accusatory thing was mentioned.

"What?" He asked innocently making Y/N chuckle, a sound he had missed and held close to his heart.

"Sammy was saying we went to the same dinner on May 3rd," She explained, filling him in on the conversation. He looked at her amazed, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. Her smile beamed at him.

"We were sat next to a hideous cherry painting," Dean chuckled, remembering how the cherry painting stood out to him as it seemed ugly and yet hypnotizing. He watched as Y/N's face grew bewildered.

"So did I," She explained, Dean's dropped open slightly as he wondered about a thousand things.

"Did you go to the bathroom and leave your book on the table?" He asked making me confused but also amazed as she recognised where the story was going. She confirmed excitedly. "I was sat right behind you," He explained, she chuckled as she shook her head. "If I had just turned around we would have seen each other," He explained with a chuckle, their hearts seemed to break a little at his words. It was almost synchronised. They both held sad smiles but smiled honestly when they recognised it on each other's faces. They both leaned in, meeting to kiss. It was a kiss of solidarity and comfort, something they both needed.

The conversation grew lighter as Dean smacked his brother's arm calling him an idiot for not pointing her out. They all laughed, knowing it was ridiculous but it appeared as though life was ridiculous to them too. As the food settled, the topic of conversation was what now? The air seemed to thicken as they all knew the conversation could end badly. Dean's chest seemed to tighten thinking the fairytale would end here and now. There seemed to be a silence surrounding them. Y/N turned completely in her seating position to face Dean. Something, in their dream life they often did to have a one-to-one conversation even in a crowded room. Even though Dean had not experienced this when he was in the dream, his body seemed to remember and understand. He turned his shoulders, facing her as she smiled worriedly.

"I know you hunt monsters and things but I would fall off the edge of the Earth for you if that's what you needed," She began to explain, Dean's smile grew at her words as he went to speak. "Please just let me," She interrupted sincerely. He nodded, closing his mouth and listening. Something the onlooking Sam was confused by. He could hardly get Dean to listen never mind shut up. He was amazed and enthralled, wanting to study her and learn her ways. "My life is miserable and if you will both have me I will come with you, I will learn to be an asset, I will do whatever it takes," She explained, pouring her heart into her words but worrying she sounded too desperate but as Dean smiled, she knew he didn't share her belief of being desperate.

"I'll stay with you while we're on this hunt then we'll take you to the bunker, it's pretty much our home between cases." He explained, admiring her for all she was. Perfection. The piece of him, he was missing. Her smile beamed before she kissed him, confirming she was happy with his words and the plan. She pulled away, admiring him closer before taking a deep breath and turning to Sam. She smiled warmly at him but also sympathetically. Sam waited a little worried about why he was brought into the conversation.

"Sam, you're welcome to stay with me as well. When the case is done we'll look at if you're okay with me coming along. I don't want you to feel like I'll hold you back or that it's a bad idea." She explained thoughtfully. Sam's eyebrows quivered slightly as he smiled, he could already tell she had a big heart. "If at the end of that time you're not 100% on board then we will work it out from there but whatever your answer is we will not judge you or change our feelings for you. It is a life the both of you have already built and I don't want to come in the way of that in any way or form," She explained, smiling softly as he grinned, chuckling softly as she finished.

"I can tell already I want you around," He commented, she sighed softly, relieved by his answer.

"We'll get your final answer before you leave," She explained making him smile so that even if he did change his mind she wouldn't hold it against him or take it personally. "You want me to show you to my apartment?" She asked them both, smiling as she noticed the smirking Dean. She chuckled as she shook her head.

They started climbing out of the booth, Dean offering his hand to help her stand although she didn't need it. She accepted his hand anyway. It was simply an excuse for him to hold her hand, which he continued to do as they walked out. They walked around the diner, chit-chatting slightly about the town as Dean was already looking for food recommendations later. She smiled, indulging him in the information, pointing out the places she remembered simply because she knew Dean would love them. Sam had thought it was a heartwarming gesture as he knew it was her subconscious way of saying I Love You without words.

"This is why you're perfect," Dean chimed in. Seemingly loving that she was excited to try a takeaway place that had the meatiest and greasiest burgers he would like. Also commenting on how they do amazing pasta dishes and salads Sam would like. Dean put an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss the top of her head as they walked. She giggled as her steps fumbled slightly before resuming a normal rhythm.

They rounded the corner, the Impala in prime view of the car park. She gasped, rushing slightly to get to the car. She ran her hand over the hood. Amazed he actually had the car in the dream as she had wanted this car since she woke up. Dean smiled brightly at her excitement, approaching her as she was almost giddy. Sam chuckled a little confused but watched on, craving to see their interaction. It seemed surreal to Sam, he had never seen Dean this happy, gentle or loving.

"You actually have Baby," She gasped, smiling as she admired the car and Dean admired her. Sam admires the scene.

"Make and model," He prompted, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"1967 Chevy Impala," She explained as if it was hardwired into her brain. Her smile never faded. Dean grinned somehow recalling a time when he had made her learn everything about the car before he would let her drive it. Although he wasn't present in the dream then he seemed to know it like a distant memory. Like he had a short dream about it months ago and had simply forgotten it. He studied her expression as he pulled the keys from his pocket. She grinned, studying him slightly but as he smiled she knew he was letting her drive. She squealed, rushing to embrace Dean as he chuckled. Sam watched on, shock overloading his system. It took him ages for Dean to let him drive. Sam reminded himself that they had not just met a few hours ago and that it was weird circumstances, something he assumed he would be used to by now in this line of work. She bounced slightly as she pulled away from the hug accepting the keys from Dean and turned to Sam, her smile beaming excitedly. "Are you okay if I drive?" She asked Sam. He chuckled noticing she was hiding some excitement in case he wasn't comfortable with it.

"If Dean trusts you to drive I won't argue," Sam chuckled slightly. Holding his hands up to show he wasn't putting up a fight. She squealed excitedly before quickly kissing Dean. Sam opened the back door, crouching into the car. She smirked as she looked at Sam's closing door, a mischievous look filling her eyes. Dean smirked, his recognition of her emotions and intents still sharp.

"You probably won't remember but we had sex in and on this car," She tempted, her tone and words making Dean's mouth dry. His mind flooded as he either remembered or imagined the times. She smirked as she walked around to the driver's door.

Dean admired her the whole time she was driving, his mind was often distracted by his thoughts of her but he wiped them away. She drove them to her apartment block, inviting them into her home. They walked in, happy to be somewhere more private but a little more bare. Sam tried to hide his slightly sad smile as he looked around. It was less homely than the bunker. She simply had all she needed, there weren't any real luxuries or anything sentimental. Dean barely cared where he was as long as he was with her. They could be in hell, and he could be tortured for decades again but as long as she was okay and offering him the heartwarming smile that healed his heart, he would be happy.

Masterlist

Working On

I know @l7axr requested a smut. That will be Part 10 and skippable for those of you know don't like smut.

[gldnstrngs]

i will never not be angry with the way morgana’s character was developed

there are so many layers to her character that could’ve been utilized but was instead boiled down to her “losing her mind” and only wanting power

it starts with merlin poisoning morgana in s2. this may be a very unpopular opinion, but i dont think that being the trigger of morgana actually turning evil was enough…

merlin was wrong to poison her, but he was also put in an impossible position and his only guidance in that moment was a dragon who was desperate for freedom. he didn’t do it because he wanted to, but because he felt like he didn’t have a choice

and, yes, he could’ve talked to morgana, but they were in a high stakes situation where im not sure merlin could actually rationalize with her

people love to solely put the blame on merlin, but its not like morgana was completely innocent either. she may not known at first how morgause was using her as a tool to make all of camelot unconscious, but we could literally see her piecing things together the way merlin was

also, she was working with morgause and i know it was because she wanted uther dead (literally who doesn’t?), but it came with the risk of hurting camelot’s people and also betraying arthur’s trust

in s3 when morgana returns, merlin feels a lot of remorse and that is something that morgana can see. she confronts him and pretends she didn’t become evil, and literally says “you were just trying to protect your friends. i would’ve done the same” which she WOULDVE. morgana was known to be passionate and kindhearted and would’ve done anything to protect her friends (and actively did so), and maybe she wouldn’t have went about it the same way merlin did, but she would’ve eventually come to understand his actions, especially because she allied with darker forces

with that being said, if the writers wanted to make morgana mad at merlin then that’s fine because she has the right to (to an extent), but why take it out on arthur and gwen, who hadn’t done her any harm (before she found out she’s arthur’s half-sister and that arwen was a thing)?

she was raised with arthur and literally said in s1 that he’s a better man than his father. she had faith in him, which was shown when he helped the people of ealdor and when he went to get the mortaeus flower so he could save merlin

and we know that gwen was her maid for several years at that point, and they were literally best friends! so why turn on her, especially when she didn’t do anything to morgana? it can be argued that morgana was frustrated with arthur’s complacency, but there wasn’t any actual reason for her to turn on gwen, especially knowing how she lost her father not too long ago because of uther’s actions

another thing that really upsets me is how morgana uses her class against merlin, so he won’t expose her??? she was literally opposed to classism and did her best to help camelot’s people, but now she was using her standing against merlin

and she uses it when she exposes arthur and gwen for dating. morgana was completely aware that uther wouldnt be happy to find out that arthur was with a maid of all people, so she used that against them

these are all things that were exceptionally out of character for morgana. i know she was under the influence of morgause for roughly a year, but she went from being on the fence about which side to take to immediately going against the people who knew and loved her for years

it’s not like they had to keep morgana’s character completely good the whole time, but she is very nuanced. instead of making her outright evil, the writers should’ve done more to have her juggle with what side she wants to be on. realistically, she wouldn’t just pick morgause, who she really barely knows, over arthur and gwen, who have been her friends for years, without hesitation

and maybe morgana could’ve still ended up being an antagonist, but instead of making her completely bloodthirsty, she could’ve continued to struggle with her feelings towards arthur and gwen and even merlin. in the end, her anger was towards uther because he was the one to persecute magical people, not the others. we could’ve seen her deal with the guilt of inherently going against arthur because she wanted to kill uther (and, no matter how much she hated uther, she was raised by him and clearly showed love for him)

morgana wasn’t just some absolutely unhinged villain. its not like it would be impossible for her to lose sight of what she wanted, but there was no actual transition to get to that point. by the end of the show, she still wanted arthur dead, but i dont think that would’ve actually been the case if she didn’t deal with character assassination

even in the legend (based on which interpretation), morgana is the one to send off arthur’s dead body. i don’t think she wouldve actually wanted arthur to die, especially because arthur didn’t want to see her dead, but it wouldve inevitably happened and that would be when she fully realized everything she did wrong

idk i just have so many thoughts about morgana’s character like she actually deserved so much better 😭 if they were going to make her a villain then they should’ve written that storyline better

[emblemxeno]

Once again Mr stalker raxy pal posted an ask of yours. What’s crazy about it this time is like? Dude edited it a bit I’m sure? Like? That is so crazy to me that effort is being put into this shit that you’d think these added seconds of time would help him reflect “hey maybe I should stop being a total loser and leave people alone”

Lol.

Conveniently leaving out this tidbit where...

Humans tried to exterminate manaketes after they had just protected them from degenerated dragons. Earth Dragons sucked for their pride and views of humans, but 1) they never chose to actively attack people, they degenerated and went feral, so 2) it's not equivalent to or worse than humans being fully aware of what they were doing when trying to kill manaketes and 3) none of what the Earth Dragons believed nor what they did once they were feral-i.e. not of sane mind-warranted innocent manaketes being attacked.

And the core foundation of the Archanea games is Marth, a human who's not a total fuckbag, stopping the dark cycle of hatred and retaliation. It's why his opposite is Gharnef, a human but also a fuckbag, who does awful things to people (causing both the War of Shadows and the War of Heroes) and uses dragons to achieve those things. It's why a major enemy is Hardin, a human who sunk into despair, sloth, rage, and jealousy due to his connection to Marth and Nyna. The reason why the War of Shadows got as bad as it did is because Camus was tragically attatched to his duty above his beliefs, and Micahlis had selfish, grand ambitions. It's almost like the pattern here is that humans do shitty things in the name of selfish ideals and good humans have to end conflict on behalf of the *remaining dragons wiped out due to aforementioned shitty things* and the other good people.

Similarly, Grima was made by a crazy fuck human who indiscriminately killed and sacrificed people for his own science project, and Loptous would never have even gotten to Jugdral were it not for Gair's power hungry ass.

Humans were also responsible for starting the Scouring and the Ending Winter, revising history to erase the Manakete involvement in Magvel, revising history and oppressing laguz in Tellius, and all of the fuckass business in Fodlan.

The only games that can be argued-though still with difficulty-to support his point are Valentia (which even then wasn't ashamed to whack the people themselves for feeding into their own reliance), Fates and Engage, the latter two he doesn't like, so... I reiterate, do they play any other FE games and not just screenshot stuff from wikis?

[spoiled-fawn]

Part 1: Meeting Simon Riley

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope!

WC: 3,224 CW: None

AN: Sorry this took so long! I wanted to have a good amount of writing as I cycle through everyone's beginnings, plus, 3k seems like a good starting point to get us settled in. Would love to hear your thoughts and comments. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

————

Going home a bit late in the night and dodging your now passed-out parents, you quietly and quickly got set to writing your correspondence letter to him. After deliberation of not wanting to scare him away, you leave out the main reason why you had even looked at the ad in the first place. You described yourself, and your work ethic, trying to resonate with the little amount of words placed in his ad. You included your hopes, wants, and wishes for the future, before sealing the letter up and placing it in the mail the next morning.

When you received a letter back from him, it felt ethereal that he had taken the time to scrawl out a response in the interest of yourself.

The letters were sparse but you poured your heart out to Simon and sent a picture of yourself. During the weeks of waiting and reading the correspondence, you set an image of the man in your head. Granted, Simon declined to send you a picture of himself and stated that the image of him in the ad was sufficient and promised his word that he speaks in truth about himself… Even though he wore a bandana that covered half of his face- nor did he give any reason as to why.

Through the letters, he described himself as a respectful man, one who is more stoic and reserved to the locals, but feels that he has plenty of love to give. He wants to provide for and protect you, with a desire to start a family, of some sort at least, soon. It was a rough to attempt to hide the letters, write them, and send them out with full secrecy. But after a wait of a full month, cutting it far too close to when the politician would be arriving back, Simon finally invited you to the new frontier as he proposed to you in correspondence.

From the moment you read his words of invitation, you packed two small bags of your most favorite, and fondest items. Acting as if nothing was wrong during this time under your parent's eyes, you head to bed, feigning innocence while figuring out just how to get out.

Simon, ever the gentleman, had given you $25 for the long train ride and sleeping car that you would need to make it to him. With the money and the amount you had slowly held back from giving to your parents from your job, you were determined to leave and start a new life. 

In the dead of the eve before the politician's carriage would be arriving at his manor, you left through your bedroom window, managing to even steal a bottle of your father's finest whiskey as a present for Simon.

The journey took a week by train, lucky enough that you lived on the outskirts of a city that had a transcontinental train station- a hub for many people who were excited and looking to head West, wherever the train tracks ended. Your stops were along Topeka and Santa Fe before you had to find a different line that diverged from Albuquerque towards El Paso, before heading into the Arizona Territory.

When departing the train, you hopped into a stagecoach and using the last of Simons's money, ready for the final and short journey to find his estate. Watching the land and people pass by through the small window, you take in the surroundings of your new life that is finally within a breath's reach. Towards the end of the town, you spot a house that is on the expanse of desert plains; a secluded but well-sized house made of wood and stone masonry sits atop a hill, the Arizona sunset shining down as a gold beacon of heaven.

Once there and stepping out of the stagecoach with your belongings, you find yourself in front of the property when your eyes are drawn to him. 

On the porch stands a tall and rugged man with a sturdy frame of muscles, evident in his build. The clothes he adorns are tight fitting and dirty, conclusive that he had just been working within his forge; dirtied denim jeans, an off-white long-sleeve shirt, clean where a smock would hang on his front. 

A black bandana covers the bottom of his face while a black cowboy hat adorns his head, leaving the sliver of skin from the ridge of his nose to his mid-forehead to be shown.

As the stagecoach pulls away back into town, eyes are locked between you two for a long moment before he finally pushes off the pillar of his porch. A low and appreciative whistle escapes from underneath his bandana, accompanying the thuds of his footsteps walking down his porch stairs to you. 

“Well, I’ll be damned... Please tell me you're who I think you are…” He simpers out, eyes trailing over your form. The sound of his voice strikes a flame to your heart, a match sufficiently lit as you hear the low and resonating tone- it’s enough to send a tremor through your lungs. 

Swallowing, and a nod of your head, “If you’re Simon then yes, I’m who you’d be expecting.” You smile shyly as you watch him take a few strides to stand in front of you. 

As he draws closer, his deep brown iris' make themselves apparent, a crinkle around the edge of his eyes makes you believe he’s smirking. "You got it right, darlin'. I'm Simon, but most folks around here call me Ghost. Pleased to finally meet you, sweetheart." His voice is deep and resonant, carrying a hint of gravel, as he extends his calloused hand towards you in greeting.

His touch is firm, your smaller and slightly softer hands a comparison of the lives you’ve lived. As you take his hand and give it a firm shake, Simon's grip tightens for a moment, his gaze locked with yours.

There's a spark of recognition in his eyes as if he appreciates your strength. 

"Reckon I lucked out with you, that picture you sent didn’t do a damn justice." He chuckles softly, eyes lingering on your form before meeting your gaze once more. "Come on, let's get you settled in. There's plenty to see 'round here." He gestures towards the house, hand outstretched for you to take after grabbing one of your bags.

“Thank you, and I could say the same ‘bout you, sir. Was nervous when you didn’t send me any photos but now I can put my worries away.” You smile, intrigued and slightly apprehensive as you now place your hand in his, granting him the reigns to hold the fate of your new life.

While he leads you up the stairs of your new home, you take a curious glance up to his figure before trailing up to his eyes that are uncovered.

He hums at your comment, "I reckon I wanted to leave a little mystery for ya, darlin'." He gives you a playful wink before leading you up the porch steps and into the house.

“Would you prefer I call you Ghost, sir?” You ask after a moment of thought, moving to follow him into the house as he opens the door while your eyes flick back to take in his profile. He gives a light chuckle as he closes the door behind you, the interior of the home having a bit of style and small added luxuries in its design. 

Once inside, you're greeted by a cozy and rustic interior; The living room is adorned with wood furnishings and a stone fireplace that crackles with warmth. The dining room is off to the left side, and straight in front of the door is a hallway that leads to doors at the end. He walked towards the living room, the scent of freshly cut wood fills the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of metal from the forge out back that carries through the house.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the main living area of the house. The rustic charm of the place is evident, with wooden beams on the ceiling and a large stone fireplace dominating one wall. The room is warm and cozy, with a worn leather sofa and a few mismatched chairs arranged around a rough-hewn coffee table.

Simon turns to face you, his eyes softening as he considers your question. "You can call me Ghost if you like. It's what most folks 'round here call me. It’s grown to be natural, y’know?" He pauses, a considerate expression crossing his face. "But if you prefer Simon, that's fine too. Whatever makes you comfortable, darlin'." 

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of your hair back. "You've traveled a long way to be here. I appreciate that, and I want you to feel at home. This here is your home now too."

Upturning your chin as he moves his fingers to lightly trace your face, your eyes close for a long moment before opening back up to him.

“Thank you for inviting me out here- taking the chance on me. I do owe you my life.” You add, feeling a bit bold in the way you elude to something but brush it off as a docile sense of gratitude while his hand falls to his side.

“I’m excited to be in our home, please let me know if I’m ever a bother for you, sir.” You include, shifting the conversation back to the present and a prospective thought.

You don’t notice the way his eyes stop to stare into your own for a moment, as he flags the previous sentence to come back to later.

"You ain't ever gonna be a bother to me, honey. Quite the opposite, actually." A hint of desire mixed with light amusement, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. "I've been alone for too long, and I'm eager to have you by my side. To share this home, this life, and everything else that comes with it."

He takes a step back, gaze still locked with yours. "Now, how about I show you to your room, first? There's more to see, and want you settled in.” The movement of his arm to gesture to the house accompanies his deep rumble, and as your eyes gaze toward the bedroom hallway, you can't help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

With a nod of your head, feeling almost absent-minded while your thoughts race with scenarios, you move to pick up your bags. “Lead the way, please.” You answer with a warm smile, trying to convey your warm innocence in the moment.

From the crinkle around his eyes, Simon's lips curl into a small, satisfied smile as he watches you gather your bags. "Alright then, follow me." He says before moving to swoop a handle of your bag out from yours, then placing your free hand into his. 

Turning to look back, his eyes wander over you again, before stopping in front of a door to the right side of the hallway; Opening the door, he ushers you in with a hand to the small of your back. 

Stepping in, you face a window that overlooks the grassy planes of the desert. To the right of the room, a small cot is pushed against the wall, a wooden nightstand on its left side. To the left of the room, was a closet and desk. The room was a little decorated, giving off an inviting feel, and you can sense that in a rugged and manly way, he tried his best for you.

"Here we are... Your room." He drawls out from the doorway before settling his right shoulder against it. His eyes, which you don't see as you survey the room, take in your body language and facial expressions, looking for any sign of displeasure.

To his surprise, you're ecstatic.

The reality of even the minimal amount of effort and having a room that was not falling apart, or dirty, and had a bed off of the ground via a wrought iron bed frame was an extreme luxury compared to your previous home.

Walking over to the window with a smile and bright eyes that reflect in the orange sunset, your jaw drops at how peaceful and comforting it is to be in something that is now considered yours.

“This is… this is much more than I could have ever asked for, Simon.” You say while taking a step to turn around, dropping your bag down by the closet before turning back towards him. “Thank you, this is incredibly sweet of you to do this.” The pull of your cheeks is evidence enough that you must look like a fool at how hard you smile, but the look in Simon’s eyes in response is worth it.

His face- eyes, light up as he sees the reaction, a warm feeling coming over him as your excitement melts his heart, and he lets a light huff escape. "’s no problem... But, I did have a question to ask you first before anything else..." He spoke softly, arms crossed in front of him as he waited for your acknowledgment, his deep brown eyes holding a depth to them.

Clearing his throat, he looks as if deciding between something. A moment later, he pushes off the door frame and walks towards you, still leaving some distance.

 "Now, I will always respect your independence and autonomy, but as a man and your husband, I expect some things of you, and I'll make it known..." He let out a sigh before continuing.

“Since we're living together and going to be newlyweds, there are a few expectations I have for us, and I want to ask you how you feel about those expectations." He asked quietly, his tone remaining calm, and you begin to figure that in his way, this is Simon acting soft in nature.

You nod once, giving him the signal to continue while remaining quiet, hands laced together in front of your lap as you watch him with rapt attention.

"I am not forcing you to agree to them. But I do expect that you will spend time with me, that you will not lie to me, and that you will be monogamous to me. I want our communication to be open and straightforward, none of that tip-toeing around each other." He paused, his tone serious for a moment as he wanted it to get across. He smiled after his words as he turned. "Any questions?"

Oh.

That’s it? 

You expected something a tad more… unjust and harsh from a man who comes off as intimidating as Simon, the man known as Ghost amongst the town. But, there was one question you had in response to what he expected of you; monogamy.

“Just one, If you don’t mind me askin’” Your voice comes out smooth and sweet, more soft and timid than you’d like to present yourself in a situation worth garnering the level of respect entrusted to each other. “Will you remain monogamous to me, or do you spend time with others?”

With a huff and shake of his head, he pushes the fabric of his bandana away by a small amount of air from his mouth.

"No... I will only be monogamous to you. You're the one I decided to marry, and I intend to make this marriage work." He spoke firmly. "And I do not spend time with others... I can promise you that you're the only one I need.” 

There is a pause in his answer as he takes a step closer, head now looking down at you while his hand glides up to land underneath your jaw, taking you by slight surprise as he holds it with his large and rough fingers.

“Does that address your concerns?" He ends the question with a deep and more serious tone- his voice makes your mind bring up what his mouth looks like while saying it.

The sound that escapes you is classically embarrassing, showing how much you are not the experienced one in this scenario. You swallow before answering. “It does… and I agree to these expectations.” You reply before taking a deeper inhale- the scent of fire, ash, and an unfamiliar smell of what could be his musk mixed with metal, one that vaguely reminds you of blood.

“May I ask something, sir? It may be rude to ask if right now but since we are setting boundaries I’d like to know.” The moment of closeness is something you hope will shield you from any backlash from asking what you’re curious about.

"You may, there is nothing you could say that would be taken offensively." He spoke softly, looking at you as his eyes traveled over your face; he looks over the ridges, pores, and even seeing a few small scars here and there along your soft skin. 

Your eyes are drawn to his face similarly: the pores that seem dirty from the day of work he had, scars that are random in placement but more than a small amount litter his forehead, and the top of his cheekbones that flow underneath the bandana. “May I ask why you wear the mask, or at least, will you be wearing it around me if I am to be your spouse soon?”

Your eyes find the telling features that his jaw is ticked, and a rush of anxiety flushes through as your stomach drops in fear that this was not supposed to be asked.

He drops the hold of your jaw, looking down with a nod of his head as if he was expecting the question. Taking his own deep breath and looking back up, his tone is surprisingly gentle, not allowing any shame to come out of him.

"I am afraid my appearance is a bit.. unsettling... I will remove it in our bedroom while we sleep and make love, but... I am not one to show it off as I do find people make too many assumptions." He spoke truthfully.

You can’t control the movement of your eyebrows furrowing up in confusion. Unsettling…? Is that his own belief or was he told that? You want to diffuse the situation before you make it more uncomfortable, yet your mouth works faster than your mind.

“You can deny me the answer, but, may I ask what happened?” You surprise yourself while talking with a level voice, social context be damned.

He stays silent as he thinks on whether or not to answer, his face shifting slightly to show some emotions. You curse yourself the longer the silence ticks by.

"I had a... scar left by an incident a while back... And it's one thing I like to keep private until I am able to completely trust someone." He spoke, a shrug of his shoulders makes his clothes rustle as he dismisses his answer and wanting to leave it behind.

Clearing his throat, he tips his head towards you and the cowboy hat obscures the visibility of his eyes for a moment. “Well then, I’ll let you get settled in darlin’. Call for me when you’re finished.” He states resoundingly, and with that, he turns to exit from your room and back down the hallway. 

[muichirosamaaa]

Crush

Modern AU Shinobu Kocho x fem reader with elements from Komi Can't Communicate.

Where reader has had a long-term crush on Shinobu but has never been brave enough to talk to her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You looked away quickly as Shinobu's eyes met yours, pretending to focus on your textbook and the teacher's droning. Her gaze burned holes into you, but you refused to look up. It would be the same as admitting that you had been staring at her for the past hour.

You sort of maybe had a gigantic crush on Shinobu Kocho, the class president and the girl sitting a few rows in front of you.

---

"Staring at Kocho-san again?" Mitsuri giggled.

"N-no! Of course not! I'm over her!" you babbled, tearing your gaze away from the purple-haired girl. Mitsuri looked unconvinced, as Nezuko gave you a questioning look.

"I'm serious!" you insisted.

"Well then I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you that she's staring at you too."

You whipped your head around to notice Shinobu turning away. Nezuko let out an impatient snort as you turned red to the tips of your ears. She nudged you and pointed in Shinobu's direction.

"No. I'm not going," you stated firmly.

"Mmph!" Nezuko huffed, still pointing.

"Y/N, you've never even talked to her! If you did, you'd realize that she likes you back!" Mitsuri sighed.

"I don't want to embarrass myself."

"Don't come crying if she's taken, then."

---

You were determined to keep your crush a secret to the grave. Shinobu would never agree to go out with you anyway.

For now, you were content with quick glances at your crush.

---

"Ugh...we're finally done..." your exhausted classmates groaned, lying on the floor in irregular positions. It was the night before the culture festival.

"Good work," Shinobu said, handing out drinks to everyone. Your fingers grazed hers briefly as she handed you your drink. You flushed at the contact, muttering a quiet 'thank you'.

Her lips curved upwards into a warm smile as she patted your head and winked.

Shinobu left, leaving you stunned and blushing. Was that some kind of hallucination?! Did she just wink and pat your head?!?!

---

The classroom was bustling with activity as the culture festival commenced.

"Y/N san, I'm looking for Tengen. Can you join me?" Shinobu asked.

"Huh? Uh..."

"She'd be happy to help!" Mitsuri interjected, shoving you towards the girl and forgetting to control her strength. You swerved just in time to avoid faceplanting into Shinobu's chest.

"Great! Let's go!" Shinobu chirped, grabbing your arm.

You averted your eyes as she half-dragged you past classrooms.

"We haven't talked much, have we?" Shinobu suddenly asked.

"Yep," you answered, looking around to avoid staring at her.

"Thank you for your hard work preparing for the festival."

"It's no problem. Everyone worked together," you replied slightly sheepishly.

"Oh! A haunted house! Let's check it out!" Shinobu squealed, pulling you in the direction of a dark classroom.

"Huh? Aren't we supposed to be looking for-AHHHHHH!" you screamed, clinging onto Shinobu's arm as a gelatin brick hit the side of your head. You immediately let go, apologizing profusely.

"Sorry, I'm just a little jumpy."

"BOO!" a pale ghost sprang out from behind a rock and howled.

"AHHHHHHH!" you shrieked again. Shinobu giggled.

" 'A little jumpy', Y/N san?" she teased, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Still recovering from the shock, you pressed a hand to your chest, breathing heavily.

"Just a little!"

"Ara~ So cute."

Your heart sped up again, and not because of fear.

---

"Shinobu stopped abruptly in front of a stall selling cute animal headbands.

"Buying something?"

"You'll see."

She picked up a headband with rabbit ears and put in on you. Staring at you, Shinobu seemed to like the look and handed a bit of money to the clerk.

"Here," you took off the headband and handed it to Shinobu.

"It's for you. You look even more adorable with it," she remarked, grinning. A gift from your crush...you felt as if you would die from the sheer happiness you were feeling.

"Thank you...are you sure you don't want me to pay you back?"

"Take it as a thank-you gift for helping me look for Tengen." Shinobu pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

---

"Oooh! They're doing confessions on the roof!" Shinobu immediately dragged you up.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE!" she yelled into the crowd.

Your heart sank.

Thoughts like 'I didn't make a move anyway' and 'I'll get over her' ran through your head as you bit your lip. Part of you wanted to cry, and part of you was curious about who Shinobu's crush could possibly be.

"I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHO IT IS!" she shouted, much to the disappointment and laughs of the crowd.

---

"Y/n san...Y/N san!" Shinobu called as she waved a hand in front of your face.

"...oh! Sorry, I was...um, thinking about something."

"What's making you so dazed?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really...so, um, you said you had a crush?"

A light pink blush dusted Shinobu's cheeks.

"I'm just curious! It's okay if you don't want to answer..."

Shinobu sighed. You were caught slightly off-guard by her unexpected reaction.

"Y/N san, why are you so clueless?"

You just stared at her, bewildered. Was it someone obvious? Someone Shinobu hung around with a lot?

"Um...is it Tomioka-san?"

Shinobu rolled her eyes, making you even more confused.

---

Back in the classroom, you filled your friends in on your conversation with Shinobu.

"She's right, Y/N. You're so oblivious."

"What, how? Who could her crush possibly be?" you questioned, perplexed.

Nezuko snorted and glared at you.

"Well, if you guys know, spill it!"

"It's you, Y/N!"

You stared blankly as their words sank in.

"..."

"ME?!"

[foundheavenly]

“Why so serious, Nanami?”

Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so please be nice

Words:

Plot: You’re Gojo’s little sister and you have the same goofiest and prankster attitude as him, especially with Nanami

Pairing: nanami x you as Gojo’s little sister

Theme: fluff, teasing, goofy

ITS A REQUEST from @pureblood-sorcerer thanks again for this request it was so fun to write and I hope you will like it! <3

There existed an unusually dynamic duo: Gojo Satoru, the strongest and goofiest sorcerer, and you, his little sister. Despite your age difference -two years apart-, you were just as goofy as him and, some might even think, even more annoying.

It was already Thursday and the air was charged with anticipation as you prepared yourself for your mission with Nanami. You were quite excited to be around him as you loved to annoyed him. You knew him since the first years of your brother’s days in Jujutsu High and you already teased him like no one before. You remembered the first time you saw him with your brother and how he used to look like and it was so funny for you. He changed a lot but mentally he was still the same.

For a hourly time you had already your vibrant energy and Nanami sighs as soon he sees you. He, ever the punctual and disciplined sorcerer, was waiting for you at the designed meeting point. Nanami looks at you with a raised eyebrow as you approach him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Ready for our mission, Nanami?” You say, a playful smile on your face.

Nanami lifts his hand and puts his glasses back on, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would happened. You were as annoying as your brother. “Let’s just get this done, Y/N. Remember: this is serious business”

At his words, you raise your eyebrows and salute him dramatically “Roger that, Captain Serious”

The mission was to investigate a series of curses that had been plaguing around a nearby school. Nanami focused as ever, briefed you on the details. As you set out, you couldn’t resist cracking a few jokes and making light of the situation. That’s how you are: always taking the most serious situation into a joke.

“Nanami. Do you think these curses have a sense of humor? Maybe they’re just trying to liven up the place”

Nanami glances at you with a deadpan expression. “Curses don’t have a sense of humor. Stay focused please”

You watch him attentively and nod dramatically again, your playful facade momentarily slipping into mock seriousness. “Yes, sir! On a serious mission to defeat the not-so-serious curses!”

“Y/N, enough with these jokes”, Nanami grumbles, his serious expression softening as he shot a disapproving look your way.

You merely grin and innocently reply, your arms cross on your chest as you look around in case a cursed spirit appears. “What jokes? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nanami”

Despite the annoyance, Nanami couldn’t help but finds your jokes somewhat endearing. There was warmth to your presence that even he, with his no-nonsense attitude, couldn’t ignore. Deep down, he had a soft spot for you. It was only for you actually.

Plus he couldn’t deny your effectiveness as a sorcerer. You weren’t an owner of the Limitless or the Sixth eyes like your brother, but you were stronger than any others sorcerers of your generation. You had a natural talent that often surprised even him.

Eventually after thirty minutes of investigation, you both run into the curse responsible for the chaos around the school and confront it. The battle was quite intense but with you two it was a piece of cake. You moved with agility and your precise techniques while your laughter echoed through the hallway as if the whole encounter were a thrilling game.

“See? I told you it could be fun” You turn to Nanami with a triumphant grin.

Nanami couldn’t help but crack a small smile. He secretly appreciates the lightheartedness you brought to what would otherwise be a solemn journey.

“Perhaps Thursdays aren’t so bad after all” Nanami nods.

As evening fell, you joins your brother at a cozy restaurant near the school. Satoru, was as energetic as ever, and you spot him joking around with Suguru and Utahime. The woman seems to be a bit annoyed by your brother’s behavior.

As usual.

You then recognize a familiar blonde head and you smile widely. You set around the table, next to Satoru and in front of Nanami, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to keep your playful banter with him. As you waited for food to arrive, you lean over and grin at him.

“So, Nanami. Do you always eat dinner with that serious expression?” You ask him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Nanami sips his tea, raising an eyebrow but doesn’t take the bait, and gives you a stern look. “I eat with the same expression I approach everything else- focused and with purpose”

You smirk and turn your attention to Satoru.

“Satoru, do you think Nanami ever laughs? Or is he just permanently stuck in “serious mode?”

Satoru watches h Nanami with his usual grin and leans back in his chair. “Nanami? Laughing? Now, that’s a rare sight. You might need a special cursed technique to make it happen”

Nanami, unfazed, keeps eating his meal in silence. You decide to up the ante as you are determined to crack the stoic facade of his.

“Did you know there’s a rumor going around the school that you have a secret collection of cute plushies hidden in your apartment?” You grin even more, enjoying the hint of surprise that flashed across his face.

“That’s absurd” Nanami retorted. “I don’t have a collection of plushies”

You feel your brother watches the two of you and laughs loudly as Suguru hits him behind his head.

You feign innocence, chuckling. “Oh my, why so serious, Nanami? I will buy you one for your birthday”

Nanami sighs and merely shakes his head, but this time there was a hint of a smile. “Y/N, sometimes I wonder if your mission in life is to turn everything into a joke”

You grin mischievously. “Well Nanami, life’s too short to be serious all the time.”

[nectarinesalt]

TICK // 1.1 - gimme danger

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 640

☾

There's nothing in my dreams Just some ugly memories Kiss me like the ocean breeze

Now, if you will be my lover I will shiver and sing But if you can't be my master I will do anything

☾

September 1983 - junior year

"Who does your tattoos, Edward Munson?"

The blunt voice behind him took him off guard, appearing out of nowhere. It didn't even sound like a question. More like a matter-of-fact demand. 

Your voice was thick and dripping like honey. Deeper than the voices of other girls in your school. Eddie was so used to the high-pitched, bubblegum-popping, giggling tones of the artificial female species that wandered the halls of Hawkins High.

The cafeteria around him was bustling with all the usual assholes, but suddenly all he could focus on was the figure of you standing behind him.

Finally turning around to lay eyes on the culprit, Eddie was shocked to see you.

He knew you, of course. Or at least knew of you. 

In the back of his mind, he tried to remember if he had ever even spoken to you before. But he would have remembered your unique voice. Eddie's whole life revolved around sounds, melodies, vibrations. 

You were a year younger than him, being a junior while he was a senior. He recalled seeing you in the crowded hallways. Plain hair. A face that said leave me the fuck alone. Weren’t you a part of the French Club or some shit?

His mind was racing, but still responded to you without any sign of hesitation. There were too many witnesses around for him to let his guard down. Bako and Donny, seated at the table with him, openly stared in awe.

Eddie found his vocal cords. "I do some of them. My uncle has a friend that does some of them."

Your disarming gaze bore into him, squinting for a moment. Eddie took a second to glance down at your clothes. Blue jeans. Gray fitted t-shirt. You were plain. No other word for it.

"How much for one?"

"What?"

"A tattoo. How much do you charge for a tattoo."

Again, you didn’t really ask it as a question. It was less of an innocent query and more of a personal space invasion, a solicitation. Your face gave away not a single emotion or even a hint of a personality.

Eddie scratched his head, acting like he was thinking deeply. He glanced at Donny, who looked at him like well, say something, idiot!

"Well, sunshine, that depends." 

That's all he could think of. Why were you suddenly speaking to him? You had successfully ignored each other for the last however many years.

Your shoulders dropped in annoyance, but you still held onto the lunch tray in your hands. 

"Okay, depends on what?"

A wicked grin painted his lips. At the motion of your shoulders falling, he could easily tell that you definitely weren’t wearing a bra. Your tits were smaller than average, basically nonexistent, but Eddie had x-ray vision at the short distance between you and him.

"Hmm… size, the design… location." Leaning over in the plastic chair, he purposely fixed his eyes on your ample behind.

You scoffed at him, "Cool, you're a real Don Juan. Let's get to the point, yeah? I want a quarter sized half moon on my hip. Just the outline, nothing fancy. Need more info?"

Taking his time to answer, mainly because he suddenly found himself entertained by your impatience, he shrugged. 

"Nah. I'll do it for fifteen bucks."

"Deal. How soon can you do it?"

You were all business and no play. Eddie was enticed by your no-bullshit confidence.

A shocking flash of pink passed behind you: a popular girl chatting excitedly with a football player. Neon pink windbreaker, bleach blonde hair in perfect curls. Eddie observed her.

And then he looked back at you. So ordinary yet so different.

"How does this weekend sound?"

You held your hand out in front of him to shake. Your skin was smooth and warm on his callouses.

"Don't fuck this up, Munson. I'll see you Friday."

☾

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Gimme Danger" by The Stooges)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[echantedtoon]

Until Death Do You Vow Ch4 Deathly Vows

(Warnings: Y/n gets a small cut on her finger and mentioning of blood.)

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. She was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. She had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with the night would never be heard from again. One look at it would deter most creatures away. But hier business was not with them.

You shivered in the wind that picked up clutching your phone and the small bouquet of flowers closer as you rubbed your shoulders in a vain attempt to bring what limited warmth you had back to your body.

Partially through what was left of the limited moonlight, you passed by some wild trees that made your stomach flip bu it came a different feeling.

The feeling of being watched.

It didn't start out that way. At first it was just an aspect in the back of your mind you brushed of as paranoia of the manor's old ghost stories echoing in your mind. The feeling first came around when the sun had just started to set and it wasn't strong enough to warrant anything more than a two second thought and hand waving them off. However thing's changed. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon to be kissed good night by it's counterpart, the moon, and the walking woman was glad that it was a full moon, for it brought moonlight strong enough for you to see the pathway as your feet continued to walk. With it came the feeling but tenfold. You've only felt this way before back at Zephyr University whenever Taylor wanted to get your attention, that same feeling also returned with the feeling of being followed, but every time your head snapped over your shoulder towards the Darkness behind you....

There would be nothing.

Literally nothing. Nothing but the cold wind starting to pick up. You brushed it off as just your paranoia getting the better of you and you set your jaw against the wind. There was nothing there anyways so what did you have to worry about?

"Come on, Y/n." You thought to yourself with a shake of your head and a deep inhale. "You're just being irrational is all. You need to get your bearings and figure out what to do with a clear head."

"You alright there?", Taylor asked through the earpiece sounding concerned.

"Yeah. I guess it's just all the spooky stuff getting to me. I can't help but feel like I'm in a horror movie. Creepy haunted manor, all alone, full blood moon, even creepier abandoned cemetery, and I'm dressed up like those useless women in those movies. Y'know the ones that wear heels and are written to be very stupid and we're always angry at how stupid they are in the movie."

Taylor groaned. "I know. Why even add those kinds of characters into movies when everyone knows they're just gonna be the first killed off?! It's really redundant at this point."

Taylor's annoyed voice brought some ease to your heart as you stepped along the stone path. Your heels clicking on with each step. "Well I made it around the manor. There's nothing here but an old barn that looks like the remains of an old barn, and a small brick road leading somewhere. I'm gonna follow it for a bit and see if it leads anywhere."

"Really? Huh. I thought they'd at least leave the headstones."

You shrugged despite Taylor being unable to see you. "They either broke down over the years or the Gallaghers moved them along with the bodies." You still followed the brick pathway until it moved farther and farther away from the manor. "So far it looks like this pathway is leading nowhere too. "

"Any other old buildings around there?"

"Nope." You stopped just as the last few bricks ended a yard before a tree. "It just stops at a dead end." You looked around and saw nothing except for..You rose a brow and nudged what looked like the remains of an old broken plant pot. "Maybe this is where they had the outdoor garden?"

"Maybe. Or maybe this is where the graves were!," Taylor's voice lit up in glee. "Try one last E.V.P session! You might catch something!"

"Alright but after this then we go home. Deal?"

"Deal!," He agreed.

You got a third time pulled out your phone and allowed the process to repeat for a third time as your other hand rubbed your arms in a vain attempt to keep warm. "Hello. Is there anyone here with me tonight?" You didn't hear anything but the wind but jumped as a clash of thunder sounded overhead. Looking up you saw more clouds gather up. Better make this quick. "Is there anyone from the Gallagher family here?" You pushed your veil out of the way and kept going quickly. "Is there any message you want me to pass on for you?" You waited a minute before asking one last question. "Can you do anything to make your presence known?" You waited a long time again straining your eyes in the dark but saw nothing. Heard nothing but the wind. "...*sigh* Ok. I'm gonna stop recording now."

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothing but creepy outdoors. I'll check the footage real quick and then I'm coming back."

"Alright, Bud. Don't take too long. It looks like it's about to rain."

Couldn't argue with that. Do once again the process repeated itself. "Hello. Is there anyone here with me tonight?" ...Nothing. "Is there anyone from the Gallagher family here?" You held it up to your ear to listen against the wind but once again nothing. "Is there any message you want me to pass on for you?" Again silence. "Can you do anything to make your presence known?" Again. Nothing. You sighed already guessing what you would see on the footage when you rewound it and sure enough once again there WAS NOTHING.

"Taylor, there's nothing here," you said defeated, "Even if there was ghosts here they all either moved on or not gonna talk to us. It's literally a dead end."

Taylor didn't say anything but you could feel the disappointment on the other side. Eventually he sighed. "It's.. I-It's alright, Bud. I know you did your best. Let's regather a-and figure out where to go from here."

"Good idea. My feet are killing me." You turned- "GAH!!" Only to trip on your long train fall to your hands and knees. Hand gripping your roses- "OW!" Your hand recoiled pulling back to you as a thorn from the roses poked out from the delicate paper wrapped around them and cut your hand oozing a red liquid.

THUD!! CLINK, CLINK- 

Your phone fell to the ground with a thud, thankfully landing on the grass and avoiding a shattered screen. However something else fell loose from the folds of the dress. Two tiny, shiny circle bands rolled down the dress and fell to the old brick path in front of you. Making clinking sounds as they rolled to a stop near your hands. Your f/c eyes blinked looking down at them.. before your eyes widened in shock and horror at seeing them.

Your old engagement rings-

"Hey! Hey, Buddy! Are you ok? Give me a status update!", Taylor piped up in worry.

"Y-Yeah...I'm ok." You answered slowly stunned first reaching out to grab your phone and then reaching out a hand shakily to the two rings. "...I can't believe they're still here.."

"I...What is?"

You didn't speak at first. Shakily grabbing the rings and slowly standing up. Wind blowing the veil around you. The blood moonlight giving a reddish glint to the golden shine of the two rings in your hand. Amongst and on them was red smeared from the prick the rose gave you. Great. You'll need to disinfectant and bandaid that later.

".... Ian's rings."

There was a shocked pause from the other side. "WHAT?!" Taylor shouted nearly taking your ears off with his voice.

"Not so loud!..*sigh*" your eyes looked back at the pretty rings. They weren't the most expensive, only being simple golden bands, but they carried behind it a heavy fortune of bad memories. "I can't believe they were here the entire time. I totally forgot about them."

"I thought you would've sold them by now." Taylor's voice was obviously annoyed and laced with distaste. "How do you even still have them?"

"I must've forgotten about them in the box with the dress. I guess they got tangled up in the folds of the dress and me tripping like in those loony cartoons knocked 'em loose." You glared at the rings. "Of course they'd show up now." As if your night couldn't be worse.

"He was a real jerk! I'm glad he's not around anymore or else I would've-!...I would've..Well I don't know what I'd do but I would've definitely done something!!"

You snorted at him despite yourself being angry. "I still can't believe I saw anything in him. He couldn't even say his vows right at the rehearsal...I guess that was because he was imagining saying them to someone else the whole time."

"Good riddance I say! You're better off without him! ... Don't feel bad about it. It's all in the past now. "

"Yeah. I'm surprised though he's into acting when he couldn't even recite his own vows right when pretending he cared."

"What was his vows anyways? I bet they were so bland and cheesey."

You snickered along with him. "They were." You cleared your throat before in a bad impression of Ian's voice you spoke in a cheesy lovestruck tone. "My beautiful love. Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."

You could hear some slow clapping and a stuffed guffaw from the earpiece from Taylor. Making you smile and continue.

"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering the details of the day like it happened yesterday. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity." You held up one of the lightly bloodied rings up as if actually presenting it to someone. "Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this ring, I ask you to be mine!" You held up the rings- only to accidentally again trip on your train and slip. "Crap!"

You ended up landing on just your knees his time. Both rings again falling to the ground and rolling away from sight. Not that you really cared about that as much as you cared about the soreness this goofy outfit was causing you.

"Are you alright?"

You hissed slowly moving to stand back up. "Yeah. I just keep tripping over my stupid dress."

You scrambled to grab your phone again and look around for the rings. Where'd they go? You looked around for the two rings and eventually found them laying just in front of you in the grass. Ah. There they are. You were half tempted to just leave them there but you could clean them up and pawn them for some money at least. Your hand reached out to them- 

Until something grabbed your wrist-

It was like the air itself had wrapped around your wrist and PULLED! You yelled out as you arm was tugged forward and you yelled as your other hand shot out to brace yourself against the ground. A horror feeling shot through your body as you looked up and saw..

Literally nothing there.

The moonlight illuminated the area in front of you and you could see nothing but you felt an iron grip on you arm. You couldn't help but let out a little yell of fright before you started pulling back in a panic. Pulling back and yanking at the otherworldly grip keeping you in place. Your other arm flying out to grip your arm and pull back as hard as you could. Pulling, yelling, and fighting back until whatever it was gave- You ended up falling onto your backside scrambling away from your position and hastily shooting up to your feet stand. Your lungs heaved in horror at nothing. 

The wind howled around you blowing the veil around like some bridal cape. The clouds increased in the sky and the bloody moon oozed it's light down on misfortune. 

THUMP-

Your mouth dropped in horror as the ground under your feet moved, as of a great beast was disturbed by your presence. The ground rumbled and shook as you teetered and waved your arms around to steady yourself from falling again. Pupils the sizes of pins as you gave small gasps and yelps as thunder crashed overhead thunder reigning through the sky and cold wind swirling around. Until the monster under the dirt finally ceased and all was still again. You gasped out and stood there panting heavily as everything just..

Stopped.

As if it didn't even happen. You panted looking around yourself but not seeing anything. What the hell just happened?!

"Hey! Hey, Y/n! What's going on over there?," Taylor piped up suddenly. "The connection just went out and there was nothing but static on your end!"

"I-..I-I don't know." You shakily looked about you-

BAM!!

A hollow push erupted from the ground in front of you. Eyes going small as something from the depths battered it's way from beneath the surface. A feeling of ice injected itself into your veins as something pushed out from under your feet. Dirt pushed up with each deep push upwards. Cracks formed between old roots and rocks. Two shiny rings slowly rolled away from the jostling-

Only to be snatched up as a white hand burst from beneath the soil.

Body froze. Jaw opening. Eyes wide as the moon. Digits old and worn flexed out feeling against the nearly disturbed dirt until they found their target in two small rings. Fingers long and boney curled around them drawling them into it's cold dead palm before it retreated back down into the depths of the abyss leaving a disturbed dirt mound behind. The wind carried what sounded like a happy sigh of relief after the soft dirt stopped moving about.

"I do." 

There was a grim pause. Wind howling. AND THEN THE GROUND BEGAN RISING UP WITH MORE FORCE-

She didn't hesitate for a moment. Not even a second. Not when the woman turned around and RAN.

Every runner knows that the first warning sign of danger is a sense of dread, a feeling of impending doom. You are about to run away from a monster. But how do you prepare for this? Y/n had always hated dark forests with its lumbering tall trees. It was a place where she felt fear. The dark teased like taunting bullies, each sway of a branch creaking it's maniacal glee and every whistle the wind whipped by your ears whistled their sick pleasure in watching her panicked state of mind. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!! Went the sounds of her heels against the bricked ground and curling tree roots, like spiderwebs under her feet, ready to snag her and make her join the abyss any moment. The darkness caged you in with the mockery of noises, a canopy of night shrouding the way out. But for now you only knew one thing.

RUN.

Your body felt light, only being able to feel every time your feet slapped against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. You could be hurting for the next ten years for all you cared! Please gods just let you get away! Your eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your only hope was to get back to Taylor! Or to get back to the manor! A place you could at least take refuge. Your arm were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran, other hand holding up your dress in a vain attempt to keep from tripping. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and you were forced to start slowly down step by step until you were hugging the side of a tree for life, your arms desperately gripping the rough bark until the imprints were deep in your palm and your knuckles were deep white, forcing your body to step around the tree until you reached it's front and you hid yourself behind it from the direction you just ran from. Your back hit the hard tree and your head tilted towards the heavens, hands clutching your pounding heart. And there was silence other than the mockery of wind and branch creaks. Your throat and lungs were on fire. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. And you did not dare move in fear of seeing that-...that-....MONSTER somewhere behind you.

That-....That wasn't real r-r-right? It COULDN'T be real! It was just a figment of your imagination projected by your fear! T-That must've been the case!...But then..How were you able to make contact with it if it was just a hallucination? You felt your hand make contact with that thing's grip and you felt the struggle you gave. You stood there, shaking harder than a tree in a tsunami in dead of winter. Other than the gasps of air your body forced you to make, you dared not make a sound. Not a noise. The whole time you stayed perfectly still as ever so slowly your heart rate decreased the longer the silence went on and the longer nothing appeared. Slowly your lungs and throat's fire extinguished with the help of the cold wind you swallowed, and what was left behind was just a dull soreness. The rapid beating of your heart calmed slowly until it was just a little above what it would normally be beating. Your eyes slowly regained focus from the sheer panic. And your body calmed down but not your mind. Your mind still raced in fear from what you just saw and you stared straight up at the creaking branches of the tree you hid behind. The panic still clear and making you do nothing but listen in anticipation, like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing fox. But still...nothing but silence. And when your eyes slowly looked to the right and your face followed until your cheek and side of the face was pressed against the rough tree bark awaiting for any sounds, but nothing still came.

It was a stupid decision...A bad one really but-..

You slowly scraped your back against the back of the tree slowly inching your way to the side of the tree, and ever so slowly, poked your head out. Not all the way. Just enough to look out at the direction you ran from and saw...nothing. Nothing but darkness and trees. And that made you pause. There was...nothing? Nothing at all? Slowly you pushed your head fully out to see better, and took your time grazing your eyesight around the darkness, straining your eyes in the limited light that seeped between the leaves and branches. Quietly listening for anything running after you, but still nothing came. ...You-..You must've lost whatever that was. You exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and slumped back against the tree. Eyes closing as a wave of relief washed over your tired body. 

''What am I doing!? Don't just stand there like an idiot!! RUN!!''

You listened to your inner voice, you turned on your heels and began running again taking the opportunity given to you by the gods. You didn't care if you got lost this time, you only cared about living. And so through the darkness the abyss had to offer, you again ran. Not which direction you were heading. Not sure who you'd run into or if you got more lost, but you were darned determined to not be eaten tonight by anyone! Not today demons! Or..zombie.OR WHATEVER THE HECK THAT WAS! You only did what you did before. Your heels clicked against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. Your f/c eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your arms were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and this time the roots claiming your feet snagged onto a particularly large root, and a few feet you went tumbling.

Your screams of tumbling over a few feet were cut short as it felt like you hit every single root, rock, and hard spot on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the ground until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the ground and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when load ghost like moaning came from up the path that was DEFINITELY NOT wind making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. No. Not more of them. Not again! Adrenaline kicked in now as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demons, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the things behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision slowly went around and around and around until it focused. And you gave a cough as your burning lungs heaved against your chest. Your heart feeling as if it'll explode any moment it was beating so fast, you couldn't stop it! You just sat there gasping and panting and clutching your chest. Your brain felt foggy. No...No. Don't black out now! Get up! COME ON GET UP!! Muscles burnt. Barely able to breath. The dirt and grass felt stinging cold and burnt your skin as you turned on your side to weakly lay on your stomach, your face gasping the sweet scent of grasses for a moment as you laid there for a sweet few silent seconds, before you allowed yourself to look up and you stopped..gasping heavily and staring at what was before you in awe.

The manor!! If you could get inside then you could wait for Taylor to get help or until daylight broke. Ignoring the pain in your ankle, you gathered up your dress in your arms, you heaved in worry as you wobble ran as fast as your legs could carry your body. It felt like an eternity scrambling to and then around the mansion not daring to look back. You knew it was ALWAYS a bad idea to look back during chases! Especially in horror movies. You'll be darned if you made the same mistake!  You made for the front. Practically beelining it to the old doors as they creaked and groaned under your force to throw them open and then slam them closed behind you. Your back presses against the cold thick wood and there you stood panting heavily. It felt like two fists were squeezing your lungs out of any air they sucked in at all. Your heart pounded hard enough in your chest to be mistaken for a drum in a parade. Your senses on fire yet on the same time highly alert. 

Whatever you woke up was out there. Whatever it was, was most definitely looking for you! What had you done to cause this?!

"Alack, alack." Your body nearly shut down. Frozen in place. "What blood is this which stains the stony entrance of this sepulcher?"

The temperature suddenly dropped to the point it felt like your body was freezing in your veins. Something in your brain screams at your legs to run but you couldn't move.

"W-What?! Who was that?! What's going on over there?! The signal keeps fading in and out!," Taylor's voice still sounded through but static-y and distant not that your fearful brain noticed.

Your jaw dropped as right at the top of the stairs someone... SOMETHING that looked like a man materialized slowly and out of nothing. Blur overtaking all its lightly translucent glory before a clash of lightning and a moment later it's eyes were opened and looking right down the flight of stairs and right at your own. 

"Fresh blood in my esteemed estate. Stained on a bundle of red roses no less. A tragic sight indeed but none quite as tragic as the sight of the one who stands before me so pray tell.." Lightning struck again and in an instant he went from the top of the stairs to literal feet away from you making you jump in fright. "Who are you and what is your purpose here?"

Your draw dropped in shock. Mouth too dry to speak and body too paralyzed to move. Fear gripping onto you tight. Only two words managing to escape you.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked out pathetically in a way that seemed to catch the spook off guard.

He blinked for a moment taken aback before he pulled away to stare. Blue otherworldly eyes scanned the trembling woman before him, slowly taking in the outfit she wore and how beautiful it made her look. A bridal attire. A lady's bridal attire. He hadn't seen one of those in nearly a century and a half.  This was... certainly a surprise. Not a thing he was expecting to show up to, nor had he really expected to be called out in such a manner...Yet here they both were.

"Your attire," he spoke slowly causing her to jump. "It's..rather unusual for a woman at this time of night and in such a strange situation. Are you about to hold a ceremony here of all places? Or are you perhaps waiting for a secret lover to appear, to run away together and elope?" He rose a brow. "I can not fathom why else you'd be dressed like this here of all places." He sighed when you still stared holding up a hand. "I do not need to offend or startle you. But I do have a right to ask after being summoned."

Dazed, shocked, and a little bit confused you only shook your head no. "N-No..N-None of T-That."

He only furrowed his brows in deeper confusion. "Then why are you here? Explain."

"I just-..." You slowly held up your hands. "Look. I-I think there's been a huge misunderstanding. Y-You see I-I was actually..Um.. It's actually h-hard to explain." He crossed his arms. Guess he literally had all eternity. "I was just looking for g-ghosts."

"Looking for...ghosts?" You nodded. "You were looking for me specifically then? I did hear you call out my family name several times."

"I..well yes B-But it was only because I w-wanted to actually see if you were here or not! I-I didn't mean to disturb you I swear! I only wanted to-...Well.."

He.. slowly nodded. And it dawned on you finally. Elias Gallagher. This was freaking Elias Gallagher!! Undead in all his ectoplasmic glory. You were talking to the ghost of a murder victim from nearly two hundred years ago!!

"I see. But that doesn't explain your strange attire. I do hope it wasn't too mock my late demise."

"A glass shattering sound went off in your mind. "WHAT?! NO!" You waved your hands with a startled look. "It's just that...Well I just happened to have this after.. something bad happened to me too a-and I heard something bad happened to your big day too! It's not mockery but...W-Well a way of saying that I know how you feel a-and I get that." It was the truth after all.

Your words took Elias by surprise staring at you in shock before you gained a look of pity from him. "Oh dear. You poor thing had experienced such a sorrow?"

You nodded sighing in relief. "Yes. I wasn't really..I mean I didn't experience anything like you but it was pretty bad."

"How do?"

"Well, for one he didn't even show up to our ceremony at all." Your words seemed to only surprise him more. "A-And he only showed up after everyone else left just to tell me that he still had feelings for his ex and it turns out that he never told them about me and I found out that I WAS the side woman all along!" A tang of anger hit you as you spoke.

"Side.. woman?"

"Oh... It's another term for a mistress." You guessed he wouldn't know modern slang like 'side piece'.

Elias looked appalled pressing a hand to his chest and at the same time looking at you in pity. "Oh goodness. It's not a wonder you'd turn to such ways to drastically heal yourself."

What did he mean by that? Ghost hunting? You shook your head. "Y-Yeah. Well that's in the past now so..."

"Oh you poor dear. You and I are not dissimilar at all in that regard. I am well acquainted with such tragedy, and know your wounds must be tended to at once. Tell me.." He smiled leaning closer. "Would you like to forget about the cur that broke your heart?"

You blinked shaking your head. "Ugh. I'd like to forget his stupid face but it's not that easy."

"Nonsense, my dear. What is your name perhaps?"

You blinked again. "You didn't even tell him your name did you?"

"Y/n. It's Y/n, Mr. Gallagher."

His smile widened. "Well then. Y/n, I vow to lift all of your anxiety and regrets for it is within my power for as long as you remain in these walls." You stared at him. Vow? What did he mean by vow? "To have you the same passionate way you had promised me." You jumped as a cold hand grabbed yours and held it up only to freeze as a second later a familiar golden ring was slipped onto your hand's ring finger. "Because now...Now even death won't do us part."

You stared mouth agape as a ghostly hand delicately reached out to cup your cheek. You involuntarily shivered. It felt like cold cobwebs against the skin. "W-What are you talking about?"

"Your vows. You said them so perfectly when presenting me your token of affection." He held up your hand with his making you look at his ghostly hand and freezing more seeing both hands have a matching lightly red stained golden band. "Of course I'd accept it."

Your body froze more becoming rigid..Until your world spun. Light swirled and ground swayed. Until black enveloped your vision. Your body leaned to the right. And the last thing you felt was two cold arms wrapping pulling you into a much colder chest.

[thespacewithin]

Do INFJ’s get hurt easily?

There's a secret most infj's dont tell others, or sometimes they themselves aren't concious of it.

When you observe infj's, there are a few signs that stand out from all the rest. Infj's are deeply driven to live a full and inspired life, they want to experience meaning and beauty to its absolute core, and they also perceive the deep, beautiful, and painful emotions entangled in the human experience. This makes them very intense people. If you've ever had an infj open their heart to you, it is an intense experience. They have a passion for affection that's unique.

When I say see, I mean they can observe other people and pick up the smallest emotional details of their lives, building a theme of what that person is experiencing, has experienced, and at times…what they may experience in the future. They don't just perceive the theme of anothers sorrows and anguish, but also the details, painting a picture of others with a pallette of colors and a variety of brushes. If they can see someone is lonely, they might add a whole plethora of other characteristics, such as that same person being kind, or defensive, insecure, tying all of these emotions together into a holistic picture.

This is a beautiful trait of Ni+Fe, and no other personality sees emotions so clearly. While infj's do this, they rarely outwardly articulate what they see, preferring to keep their knowledge internal, and adjusting themselves to act in a way that's fitting towards those they observe. (I want to emphasize that this ability is a good trait of infj's, they are not “wrong” for being this way, their emotional perception is a blessing.)

They do this for a few reasons. Infj's have learned that if they manifest what they know, it has a massive impact on the other. In addition, what infj's perceive is difficult to articulate, as it exists in an emotional, ethereal realm, and concretely explaining what you see to others is hard to find the right language for. Worse yet, there are times that if the infj spoke bluntly the other person would not be emotionally aware enough within themselves to grasp the depth of their own experience.

This puts infj's in a position where they can genuinely see others, but rarely connect with them at the level in which they see. This isn't a small problem, when you mine into it, the deeper you go the darker and more painful it gets. Every infj, at one point in their lives, attempted to connect with another at this level, and at the least it's likely they experienced a sorrowful lack of reciprocation. When they did, the infj was innocent, trying to express their real selves, only to be misunderstood, burnt, or rejected. This happens all the time for infj's, and it leaves them extremely lonely. To have such a big heart with no avenue to express yourself makes you feel completely unseen. This is why infj's are social chameleons: They cannot trust that if they're their authentic selves, they will be seen or accepted. In reality, this is true. The vast majority of personalities *cannot* see and understand infj's. Very few can. Infj's dont just feel misunderstood, they *are* misunderstood. This is because Ni insights are a one way street, those who don't have Ni cannot reciprocate the understanding that comes from it, and that understanding just happens to be deep, rare, and hard to articulate.

Optional reading to know why deep infj connections are rare:

(Because Ni/Ne revolves around meaning and beauty it is deep. Only 4 personalities share Ni in top slots, with an additional 4 possessing high Ne traits. The enfj is well positioned to see and care for infj's, but at the expense of a logical connection. Trickster Fe puts an interesting spin on intj's. Intj's can build intellectual connections, but theyre amongst the worst personality to develop deep emotional connections with, although it appears in some cases this isnt always true. Entj's with a developed Inferior Fi have the capacity to understand infj's emotionally and intellectually, but infj's will have a hard time understanding entj's because of Trickster Te. Therefore, of the 16 personalities, only a few others are equipped to meet infj's emotionally where they're at, in the deep, beautiful, and true realm of Ni/Ne insights, and four of them lean heavily towards Thinking traits. These make up 2.5% (enfj), 1.7%(entj) and 2.1%(intj)of the population (5.3%), as well as Ne users. Entj's don't develop Inferior Fi until 30+ years old, if at all, so it would be rare and require exact timing/development for this pair to form a strong emotional connection, although I imagine the safety infj's can provide may expedite this blooming. Infj's can form various other connections with people, but not at the deepest levels of Ni/Ne. Because these numbers and connection implications are real, they're explanatory to the infj's feelings of isolation.

There's a concept that needs to be grasped here:

*If nobody can see you, then you are nothing.*

But if somebody can see you, then they are everything, but that everything never comes, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you bleed, no matter how much you give.

Herein sits the very core of the infj's sorrow. They feel like they are nothing because nobody can see them the way they see others. Suffice to say this is typically true for all personalities on one level or another, but because infj's see deeper and emotionally, it affects them more profoundly. At least a magnitude larger than any other personality. The rarity of infj's amplifies isolation. An infj's Parent Fe inclines them to need someone they can love, which is unique amongst the parent functions, and they love fiercely.

Because of this, infj's have an acute empathy for the pain of others, particularly with lonliness and castigation, because lonliness and castigation is the default life experience of infj's, at one level or another. Now, they not only see people, but they also embody others pain *through themselves*. This is why they're referenced as having a martyr vibe, but it comes from sincere experience: They seek to “save” others in emotional pain because *they know* what it feels like.

The innocent logic of Ti struggles to make sense of why infj's aren't accepted when they readily understand and accept others. Because this is a deeply painful experience, infj's reason that one can become valuable if they learn specific skills, and they're at risk of seeing people's value according to what they do, because infj's are not valued for who they are. Because of this, every infj has put effort into developing a special talent(s), and they are often perfectionistic and critical towards themselves in this pursuit because of the pain that underlies it. If only they could be perfect at what they do, then maybe their value could be recognized. This is wrong. Infj's are valuable for who they *are*.

This is why they can end up with narcissists, or other scarred people, because *more than anything, they can deeply connect with anothers pain, because this is what they know and experience. *

So are infj's easily hurt? Not particularly, but singularly: If you represent hope to an infj in terms of actually seeing them and caring for them in return, and if this hope is diminished in any way, it will be deeply painful, sometimes even fatal.

Infj's know this, and that is why they choose a very few number of people to actually open themselves up to, they need to first trust that they can, but because they often pick those who are hurting, the odds of them finding a person whos in pain but not maladaptive *is significantly lower*. Not only do they pick those who are hurting, but often these people have no real wavelength in which they can reciprocate deep empathy or understanding, because Ni+Fe is unique in this, and only a handful of other personalties have the functional sophistication to perceive infj's for who they are at core levels.

After being burnt a few times, infj's decide not to try anymore, and you can't blame them.

This is why they find it difficult to find longterm relationships, why they can tend to end up alone. Sometimes they end up alone even while in a bound relationship, suffering, and remaining to be unseen. The world cannot understand or accept the deep, intense and childlike love infj's wish to give, and it's a sorrow that burdens the subconcious of the infj daily. The plaguing thought ringing in stillness echoes “Nobody loves me”.

In the deepest recess of the infj's heart, they're intimately aware of this, and within this realm, you can easily hurt them. In a sense, the love infj's wish to give and receive isn't an ideal, it's a reality of how love *should be experienced*, it's not the concept that's wrong, it's that there are just very few people who can fathom, experience, and share love at this depth. In reality, other people who lack this depth aren't wrong either, they just don't have the potential within themselves to experience love in these terms. There's something fascinating to realize about this exchange. Inasmuch as the possibility of exchanging love at this level appears very rare for a variety of the above stated reasons, at least *it is* possible for a smaller group of people. I haven't quite figured out the limit, but it's very possible that the full depth of this love can only be shared with other Ni users, a deeper but not the deepest level with Ne users, and the least levels with Sensors, as this represents the different functional potentials embodied from conceptually deepest to conceptually nonexistent, remembering that an ideal can only be fathomed and boundless within the realm of potential and imagination *before* it can become manifest in reality. So then it's not the ideal then that's wrong, but in the same way a jewel is rare and not common, so is the full experience of this ideal. This is the nature of how it appears to me, and I believe my grasp of the dynamics is fairly accurate. In many ways, infj's can conjure love in idealistic terms from Ni, and then actually implement their affections via Fe, which is nothing less than extraordinary. One can imagine why not having this reciprocated feels like a serious loss.

I counsel infj's to only seek those who can see you as a first priority, and don't be lured by another person's ache. You must be sure you are being seen *first* before even thinking about proceeding in relationships. You *will not* find many. It may take years, even decades, but they *are* out there. I understand there's a sense that if you cannot connect through pain, then the other can't fully understand your experience, and this is a legitimate concern. However, it should not be the driving factor in your relationships, rather, look for people who are gentle, kind, and generally able to intuitively connect, and then seek to connect through pain as a secondary goal. When somebody genuinely connects with you, you can't miss it, especially if it's in your own wavelength.

Also, please recognize that your ability to see people in this way is a real gift, truly. In a way your particular functions make you more alive than anyone, which is the cost of often feeling more grief than anyone. You have been chosen out of others to be this way. Your vision of what love can be is inspiring, and quite frankly everyone should adopt it, it's what we were created for.

Original post:

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis And Honey Autumn This Or That 🍂

Week Four: Apple Picking or Carving Pumpkins

Summary- Short Drabble. Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Curtis surprises you and makes a better memory for you than the one you used to have.

Warnings- Mentions of the ex being an asshole.

This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Thank you everyone! For reading, commenting and sharing. It is so appreciated. Don't forget to vote on Friday to pick the next activity. Happy Reading everyone!

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

“Nope, you can’t know yet where we are going.” Curtis hummed from behind the trucks wheel, one hand steering on a back road that you had never been on. His other hand was resting on your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth lazily like he had all the time in the world to drive you crazy. You were not quite as relaxed as he was, peering out the window at the autumn hued yellows, oranges and reds that made up the treeline following the side of the dirt road, sighing every now and then with impatience at his surprise that he has been torturing you with all week. 

That evil man had the audacity to have a satisfied grin on his face, chuckling as you squirmed in your seat once more, from both the desire to know what he was planning and his touch being barely there.  

“You know this has to be like…torture? Teasing me all damn week that you had something planned for a date and then not even giving me any hints.” His hand squeezed your thigh playfully, sliding in between the thickest part where they pressed together, holding onto you. 

“I gave you hints. I said to wear casual clothes and sneakers for climbing. If you can't pick up from that Honey, I don’t know what to tell ya.” He shrugged, finally turning into a long driveway. The sign at the end held claims to apple picking, pumpkins, farmstand, and family fun. 

You twisted in your seat, excitement making your features seem childlike innocence. “Are we apple picking? Please say we are gonna go pick some apples, I haven't been able to do that since I left New York.” 

Curtis pulled into a parking spot, and the view before you two was endless apple trees, covered in gorgeous red and green apples just waiting to be plucked. A scattering of families were in the orchard, but for the most part, it was empty for you and Curtis to explore. “And get our carving pumpkins. You have to thank your mom Honey. She messaged me that this was something you all used to do together before you and Jade moved. Shelly said you hinted that you missed doing this.” Another squeeze to your thigh and he moved his hand away, but you grabbed at it, tugging yourself across the bench seat to him to cup his bristled chin and lean in for a kiss. 

“Thank you.” Your breath fanned against his mouth, your eyes shining with some unshed tears that portrayed how much this all meant to you. “This is why I love you, Curtis. Stuff like this.” 

“Pretty Girl.” He rumbled affectionately, claiming one last kiss before popping his door open and sliding out, reaching to slide you across the rest of the seat and help you out too. “I want this to be our kind of moment to share too.” 

Grabbing some bags and some apple-picking tools, you two wandered into the rows of trees, heading further into the orchard where the owner had pointed out the best place to find pristine apples. 

Apple picking with Curtis was a playful adventure, you two teasing each other the whole way across the orchard and then playing at stealing apples from one another's haul. Curtis was able to use his height to his advantage, reaching up to grasp at the branches to pull down for you to pluck the pretty crisp apples. 

Whenever you would climb up one of the ladders a bit nervously, you would glance over your shoulder while filling your bag to find Curtis securing himself behind you, claiming to keep you steady, but would get that look in his eye that he was very much admiring the view as well. At first, it made you feel flushed with nerves, but his hands were constantly touching you. Grasping along the outer edge of your thighs and making sure nothing was going to happen to you while you were climbing on the ladder. You finally relaxed into the moment, allowing for you to reach for the apples high out of reach while being secure that you wouldn't fall. 

Curtis remained brushing his hands against you, hugging around you while sneaking apples into your bag and nipping kisses against the curve of your neck when he pulled you into his arms for a hug, taking quiet moments together under the trees with no one around. 

Towards the end, you two were wandering back towards the front of an orchard, pausing now and then to pluck a couple apples to finish up filling the extra bags you two were collecting for Ella and Tanya per Curtis’s request. 

Reaching up to your tiptoes where your fingers were brushing on the underside of a ruby-red globe, you suddenly felt yourself lifted. You yelped for a second, grasping at Curtis’s shoulders in surprise. “Curtis…” 

“I got you Honey, get it.” He encouraged you as you balanced in his hold, tentative as you let go of his shoulder but trusting that Curtis wouldn’t let you drop from his hold. 

Jake had once pretended to try to lift you in a similar hold, joking at your expense how it would hurt him too much. Back then you felt those words sink in deeply, letting it just ruin your joy in getting to spend the day with him. That day had ended with Jake taking his aesthetically pleasing pictures for appearances that you two were the perfect couple. At the time he had it framed and placed on his desk to show his future clients. But like all the feelings he claimed he felt for you, it was a fake moment that looked picture-perfect on the outside. Even the apples that day were ones purchased at the farm stand on the way out of the orchard, Jake claiming he didn't have time to waste doing this kind of stuff. 

But this time, when Curtis eased you back to your feet and you pulled out your phone, leaning back into his chest, Curtis took the phone from your hold, lifting it angled slightly above, the resulting snapshot had real smiles and real memories attached to them. You twisted in his arm to circle your arms around his waist, your smile one of pure happiness and love. “Thank you Curtis, you really don’t know how much this means to me.” 

This time you would print this picture and hang it on the fridge under a Florida magnent that you had picked up with Curtis visiting Jade. It was now hanging among the chaos of Sophia’s artwork, Timmy's school pictures from as far back as the beginning, an outdated calendar no one ever removed, handwritten notes, and phone numbers, random snapshots that showed loved people in happy moments and other bits of life’s madness with a scattering of mismatched magnets that looked like something his grandparents must have had hanging on the fridge since the eighties. Jake would have hated displaying that picture in such a messy disorganized way.

And in your eyes, it fit right in like it was always meant to be there. 

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Seven

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: None

-

Wednesday morning is much of a surprise to Twila.

“Twila! Twila! Wake up!”

Multiple hard knocks awaken the girl from her slumber with a jolt. Her heart pounds with every worst case scenario as she flops out of bed, her blanket, of course, deciding at this exact moment to get wrapped around her ankle and nearly trip her on her way to the door. She swings open her dorm door with heavy breaths, kicking the blue blanket angrily to the side, only to peer down at a pair of first years.

“They put frogs in the lavatory!” The shorter one yells, despite only being a few inches away.

Twila takes a slow blink, allowing time for her brain to catch up to speed and wrap around what’s happening just now.

“Come quickly!”

She lazily drags behind the two girls out of the common room and downstairs to the nearest girls bathroom. The prefect rubs her eyes with a groan as the sunlight hits her face from a window on the closest wall, but she stops at the sound of a ribbit. 

Ribbit Ribbit

She drops her hands, staring at the wooden door with caution. She looks to the two girls, who only part way for her as she walks forward. Twila places a hand on the door, already able to feel the chaos without even needing to see it. With a deep breath, she pushes the door open, coming face to face with green and yellow toads flying back and forth, and up and down across every feasible surface. The last thing she expected this morning was a trip to a swampy bathroom, quite literally this time.

A particularly large toad launches forward through the door frame, causing the three girls to scream as they jump out of its path. Unfortunately, a handful of the amphibians take inspiration from this and follow suit, causing them to spill out into the halls, now gaining the attention of other nearby students.

“Cast Evanesco on them, I forgot my wand.” Twila says with a groan, tiptoeing around the small creatures. 

The two first years look at her in shock at her request to cast a fifth year level transfiguration spell on the toads, but they try their hardest anyway. But Twila hardly notices their struggles, especially not when a certain blond prefect is laughing his ass off at the end of the hall.

“Malfoy.” She grits her teeth, approaching with a less than happy expression.

The boy puts on the best innocent face he can muster through his suppressed laughter, eyes feigning surprise as she stops in front of him. “Oh, hello, Twila. How are we this morning?” The two other boys, Blaise and Theo, snicker from beside him.

Twila crosses her arms. “Oh, just great actually.” She responds sarcastically.

Draco keeps himself from smiling. “I’m glad you’re doing well. What’s got you out of bed this morning?” He says taking a moment to peek down at her sweater and plaid pajama shorts in contrast to all the black cloak uniforms surrounding her.

She takes note of this as well, but pretends not to care. “Just out for my usual morning stroll.” Her voice still drips with sarcasm, making it clear she knows exactly who's behind this situation.

The blond puts on a dumb smile, nodding his head in revelation. “I see. I’m sure it’s wonderful taking a stroll this early in the morning.”

“Oh, it’s just my favorite. The things you see, you know?” Twila matches him with an equally fake smile.

The urge to laugh is quite a challenge for Draco at this point. “Oh, I totally get what you’re saying. You really get to see nature in a whole new way. Truly the highlight of every morning.”

“Emphasis on the nature part.”

A hint of aggression surfaces in her voice in her last sentence, but Draco decides to push her just a little bit further. “Right. So, why are there toads in the bathroom anyway?”

“Draco, I’m gonna kill you.”

A small chuckle finally escapes his throat, finding himself very amused at how this plan worked out. “Now, now, Twila. Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction. It’s just a few lousy toads.”

She groans dramatically, turning away to see that the first years managed to clean up all the toads by now. Then, she raises a warning finger at him. “I’m going back to sleep. Leave me alone.” She warns, but he can see the small smirk pull at her lips before she walks away.

Unfortunately for Twila, she has no choice but to stay up now. Classes will start too soon and she still has yet to get dressed. Lucky for her, the day would go on as any normal Wednesday would. Care of Magical Creatures with the girls. Charms with Celia, Ominis, and Sebastian. History of Magic, where she is unfortunately dragged behind Jewel the entire time without the ability to mutter as much as a single word to Mattheo, who Jewel makes sure to sit on the other side of the room from.

Arithmancy, however, is odd this time around.

She sees him again, Tom. She’s alone for the first time today and stuck in a room with the very person everyone has now told her to stay away from. Even his own brother has warned her against him. She keeps hearing Mattheo’s words play out in her head from last night. As much as she’s been told to feel scared of him, she only feels frustration. Why won’t anyone give her an explanation? People love to get on her back for her secrets and yet everyone seems to be doing the same to her. Is she just supposed to trust that she’s currently sitting 10 feet from the most ‘vile’ man in the school just because of a few rumors? Sure he doesn’t seem like the most talkative and friendly of people, but Twila is no stranger to being seen as the weird outcast. Then again, Mattheo and Draco never did tell her that Tom’s dangerous per se... So maybe there’s another reason they want her to stay away.

Regardless, she decides to be adamant about avoiding his gaze, just in case.

༺ ☆ ༻

Annoying Draco during dinner is a new favorite pastime for the girls, much to his dismay, especially while his other friends like Blaise and Theo are present. Though, Draco just learns to ignore the girls until dinner ends at this point. 

“Ready?” Twila suddenly greets him.

The girls stop themselves from exiting the Great Hall, looking back at their friend as she stands in front of Draco. “Aren’t you coming, Twila?” Jewel asks.

“Can’t.” She smiles fakely. “Draco and I are assigned to the clock tower tonight.”

Draco’s brows furrow at this, before his face drops in remembrance. “Damn.” He mutters under his breath. He stands with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with, Ravenclaw.”

He grumbles his way out of the Great Hall, not bothering to wait for Twila as she walks not too far behind him. As the commotion of the dining area dies out, their footsteps echo throughout the greater silence of the giant halls. She rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t act so grim. I don’t exactly wish to spend my night like this either.”

He laughs fakely at this, continuing forward as he speaks to her over his shoulder. “I’ll try my best, but I’m not exactly feeling peppy and cheerful tonight.”

She scoffs. “Oh, trust me, I know the feeling. You wouldn’t believe the morning I had.” She says through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing at the back of the boy's head as they make their way up the endless stairs.

Now his smirk turns genuine.

As the sun finally sets, the two students find themselves surrounded by incredibly sized spinning cogs, and grinding metal gears. The area is dimly light, only allowing the shine of the moon that comes through a giant stained glass clock face, embroidered with golden roman numerals. About a hundred winding, wooden stairs lead down to the cemented floor of the courtyard, a multiple ton pendulum swinging just above it. It swooshes and creaks with every literal second that passes by, filling the strangely eerie room with its sound. 

Twila stares up and down between the high ceiling, and the low drop beneath them, taking in each metallic whir with a sigh. “So, this is our night?” She asks rhetorically, looking around with already bored growing eyes as the two of them stand in the tower shaped grandfather clock.

Draco’s eyes try their best to make out their surroundings in the darkness of the tower, looking for nothing in particular. “I suppose it is.” He says just as dull as he is feeling. With a sigh, he makes his way to a nearby wall and leans against it lazily. “Can’t get much worse than this.” He mutters.

Though, Twila already finds herself too busy with something to hear him. Her feet step down to the next level, walking over to the clock face. Patterns of blues and yellow reflect down onto her face, the moon’s light overtoning her and the room with a pale coloring. She stands on the stone frame, coming close enough to run her fingers along the thick, cold glass.

He watches her from across the platform with narrowed, but just as curious of eyes, feeling almost annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him.

She walks slowly across the wooden planks, hands behind her back, but her head high as she searches the tower for something she’s never seen before. The night will feel slow, that’s for sure, but she is persistent on entertaining herself however possible, even if it means finding joy in the little things. She also can’t help but notice how dead, yet private this part of the castle is. She’ll have to remember this for another time.

Draco taps his foot, twiddling with his fingers as each creaking sound of her footsteps against the floorboards only pushes him further into his irritation. As Twila returns to their original level, she passes by him once more, still allowing silence to fill the space between them and continues exploring the castle with a light hum of a song. Draco lets out a deep breath, watching her in the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, she stops short in front of a new hallway, standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to look down it. Draco pushes himself off the wall and takes a small and quick peek down the hall as well, but returns to his previous bored stance before she can notice. But before Draco can even get comfortable again, Twila is carelessly making her way down the hall, leaving him and the designated patrol area behind.

Naturally, this earns a groan from the blond, making him get back up again and follow her annoyedly. “And where the hell do you think you’re going?” He confronts angrily, only a few steps behind her.

However, he quickly finds that Twila’s curious nature makes her completely unfazed by his attitude and that she is too unapologetic to care. “What’s that room?” A large wooden door at the end of the hall stares back at the girl, its frame marbled with intricate designs.

“Are you always this damn nosey? For god’s sake, you’re like a cat.” He huffs as he now stands beside her before his face twists with a mocking grimace as he recognizes the door in front of them. “It’s a bathroom.”

“Why is it so fancy?”

“It’s for prefects.”

“So… we get our own special bathroom…?”

“Yes, you get to share your own personal bathroom with the other 20 prefects. Now are you done fantasizing about the toilets?”

She stares at the door for a moment again. It can’t just look like any old bathroom if it has to be locked away from the other hundreds of students. There has to be something different. “Well, hell, I wanna see what’s in there!”

“It’s a toilet! Can we please go back to doing our job?”

He watches in disbelief as she silently crosses her arms. With a sigh and shake of his head, he looks away, ready to guide them back into the clock tower.

“No.”

Then, she’s racing down the hall, her school robes fanning out behind her as she paces towards the door.

Draco has half a second of amazement before he’s chasing right after her. She pushes open the door, not bothering to wait for the boy behind her, and letting it nearly slam in his face before he catches it with the palms of his hands just before. She’s met with the unexpected, looking around in awe at the giant, pool-like bathtub in the center of the room, lined with about a hundred gold faucets. The walls stand with plenty of paintings and golden panel moulding and trims, but the pool is the real eye catcher here. Definitely not any old bathroom.

“Are you done obsessively haunting the bathroom now?”

Twila is certain she’ll turn into a mermaid in here. “Just a bathroom, Draco? This is insane!” Her jaw hangs open as she, obviously, has to touch every single golden and shiny faucet in sight, leaving tiny finger prints on each one. “I’m going to spend every night here.”

“You’re absolutely mad, you know that, right?”

She’s now on her knees, swishing her hands back and forth across the warm water’s surface, watching as ripples trail behind her fingertips. However, she cautiously retreats her hand as she realizes the depth of the water. Would something be underneath? This is a wizarding school afterall. She half expects a dragon to pop out from underneath the bath water. She eyes down into the dark water with squinted eyes, awaiting something magical.

He rolls his eyes at her odd fascination, fighting off the very, very small part of him that almost wants to join her. However, he decides that enough is enough and speaks up one last time before he’s going to decide to leave her behind. “Can we be done now? Have you seen enough toilets to be satisfied until tomorrow?”

“Fine.” She huffs as she shakes the water from her hands, standing from her place off the floor. They exit the room together and make their way back down the portrait lined hall, at least 50 or so paintings moving to watch them as they approach the clock tower once more, but instead of its usual hums and ticks, they hear a clamoring coming from the stairs above.

“Will you just listen to me!”

“That’s enough! I know what I’m doing.”

Draco immediately recognizes both of the voices, but Twila can only pick up Mattheo’s. Soon enough, two boys come stomping down the stairs, still heated from their argument when they spot Draco and Twila standing together. Twila suddenly makes direct eye contact with Tom as his eyes fill with surprise then determination as he marches up to the two of them. “And just what are the two of you doing out?” He says menacingly. 

Draco scoffs quietly under his breath. “We’re partoling.” He answers simply.

However, before another word can be said, they hear two more voices come from beneath their wooden platform.

“Sebastian, this is a bad idea.”

“Come on, Ominis. Not even just one round? I know you know how to duel, despite how often you deny it.” The second boy says with a laugh as he looks around at all the Crosswands dueling equipment.

Tom’s head spins as he glares down beneath them into the courtyard. He lets out a hum, murmuring something quietly. Then, in an instant, he’s making his way down the stairs, ready to scold the two boys below. The other three stare at one another before  following only feet behind him, curious how the scene will play out. Tom stands before Ominis and Sebastian, who both are equally as frightened as they are confused to see the room suddenly as full as it is. And just before Tom can speak, he is yet again interrupted by even more company. The group continues to grow as one blonde, one red head, and one brunette pile in through the door, laughing while carrying a familiar, but forbidden object.

The three girls freeze in place as they see the room as already more than occupied, eyes wide and alert, especially noting that Tom is in the room. Nervously, Penelope swishes the object behind her back with a stressed laugh. “Hey, girl.” She greets Twila with a stiff wave.

The boys turn to look between her and the American in either confusion or annoyance, causing Twila’s pores to start to sweat with nerves. “Hey.” She greets back quietly, unsure if she should dare move a muscle right now or not. Regardless of fear or not, Tom is Head Boy and therefore in charge of everyone in the room, including Twila and Draco even as Prefects, and something tells Twila that Tom is more than willing and able to use that power.

But then, a wide and confident smile appears on Jewel’s face. She steps forward, the clacking of her kitten heels making heads turn back towards her. “Damn,” She starts, having the bravery to waltz to the center of the circle. “You said you were patrolling the clocktower. I didn’t expect… all of this.” Jewel seems to be the only one unfazed and unintimidated by the situation at hand, not caring one bit that Tom is present. She immediately walks to Twila, standing between her and the boys as a shield. “So, what’s going on here?” She asks no one in particular, staring down the familiar men.

“You’re all out past curfew, is what.” Tom spits out, but his eyes seem to be directed at Jewel more than anyone, glaring at her with what Twila could almost sense as hatred, which only flourishes the questions in her head. Penelope shifts in her spot, making an echoed scrape sound with her shoes and drawing Tom’s attention once more. “What do you have?” He demands, peering down at the large leather object that peeks around her legs.

“Nothing.”

“How dumb do you truly think I am, Gryfindor? I could go straight to Dumbledor with this.” He threatens with his face ever so serious.

Penelope crosses her arms in annoyance. “Well, can you do it in about 10 minutes? I went through hell to get this.” And just like that, she unveils the stolen Sorting Hat and places it upon her head, caring less if the room sees it now. While completely ignoring the Slytherin’s, Penelope smiles widely as she looks up at the brim of the hat. The Sorting Hat’s face scrunches to life, its rim moving in a wave-like manner as it makes its assessment. “Miss Cassoway, you must be tired of this by now.” It speaks out loud to her. “You are still a Gryfindor and just as much of a nuisance as you were the first time you stole me.”

She disappointedly removes the hat with a visible pout, before looking around for the next victim.

“‘Nelope, you really should put that back.” Jewel warns but with a laugh in her voice, still watching as she passes it on to Celia now.

“Yeah, you should really listen to your leader.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

The hat relaxes as it’s placed on Celia's head. “Miss Mulberry, you are just as bright as I remember and your kindness is ever growing, but not all deserve your patience, remember this.” Celia’s face drops in contemplation at the object's unexpectedly deep words. She has an idea what this can mean, but she is quiet to reveal it to the group, choosing instead to remain silent and let her friends do as they will.

Sebastian and Ominis stand with their jaws slightly hanging open, beyond overwhelmed at the amount of things that have taken place in the last minute or so. They are unfamiliar with most of the people in the room and debate sneaking away while everyone’s distracted, but they both know it is likely Tom will notice.

Penelope is still just as ecstatic and skips over to bring the hat to Twila now. The ravenclaw feels a huge rush of embarrassment from the whole ordeal, seeing as the boys are less than amused as they watch the red head carelessly throw around the stolen object. “Penelope, please,” her voice at a whisper. 

“Oh, it’ll just be quick, then I’ll go return it or whatever.” 

The large hat is surprisingly light on her head, she hardly recalls her first meeting with the object even if it was only a few months ago.

“Ah, Twila DeLuna. I remember you.” The hat sounds as if it were smiling as it speaks this to her. Twila holds her arms insecurely as everyone’s eyes watch her and the hat’s interaction. “The intelligence and creativity of a Ravenclaw, the charm and ambition of a Slytherin; a dangerous and confusing combination indeed. You are a powerful witch, Miss DeLuna. People will either respect or fear you; it is your choice to make.”

Twila’s eyes widen at the hat’s words and quickly reaches up to remove it from her head. “What a silly little thing.” She laughs it off and hands the sentient object back to Penelope with her cheeks bright red with fluster and insecurity.

��Are you done playing dress up now?” Draco suddenly speaks up to the girls, but keeps Twila in the corner of his eye, giving her a once over from the hat’s statement.

Penelope rolls her eyes, exiting the room with the hat in hand while Celia follows quickly behind. Jewel takes a slow look at some of the boys, before linking arms with Twila and leading her forward and out without another word, only a small smirk on her face.

The boys stand silently and awkward in the slightly less crowded room, when Tom then clears his throat. He takes one glare around the room, then just like that, he’s gone as well.

༺ ☆ ༻

Twila tries her best to shake off the hats’ words from last night, but deep down she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. They’re not new words for her, she had been told similar ones when it first assessed her before coming to Hogwarts, but they still have her just as troubled.

She pulls on a dark blue, long sleeve shirt, popping her black robes over it as she paces out the door to D.A.D.A. She plops in her usual seat with a short sigh, allowing herself to catch her breath after descending the many, many stairs of her common room’s tower. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” Draco studies her face with a fake look of disgust.

She turns to him unamused, before letting out a quiet groan, continuing to remove her books from her bag. But before they can speak any further, Snape calls for the students' attention, briefing them with a small history lesson before he prepares them with a spell.

“Wands. Up.” He demands, looking down upon the sitting students.

Draco grabs his wand as instructed with a huff, lazily and boredly leaning back against his chair as he awaits for the professor's next word.

“Twila.” Snape suddenly says. She raises her head to meet her professor’s eyes, everyone else's now on her as well. Snape tilts his head towards the back of the room. With a small gulp, Twila embarrassingly stands, taking a seat in an empty desk near the back with her book, where she then begins writing, trying hard to ignore the judgemental and assuming gazes she can practically feel on her.

Twila’s heart beats quickly but she attempts to tune it out through her writing, but her shaky pen proves difficult. She knows she’ll get an earful of this after class and she needs to think of an excuse as soon as possible. Of course this would happen now. She saw this coming, she made a deal after all. But for Snape himself to embarrass her like this after everything she’s told him. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel completely humiliated right now, especially with Malfoy watching.

Draco watches her with curious and confused eyes. Professor Snape raises his wand, the other students following. Draco does so cautiously, but his head never turns to face away from Twila. He squints, as if to try and question her with his eyes. He is the last person Twila wanted to have to see this, let alone explain it to. Twila attempts to warn him away, but she is too late, Professor Snape loudly slaps his hand on Draco’s book to snap his attention forward once more. Snape’s eyes flicker over to Twila for a brief second, almost threatening her with something, before turning back to his class.

Nearing the end, Snape, for once, lets the class pack up early, but only because he has reason to. “Two rows on my desk by the beginning of next week, all of you.” The class leaves with moans and groans of protest, but Snape thinks little of it. He picks something from his desk, walking it over to Twila in silence. She takes the envelope in his hand cautiously as he walks away, his long cloak making him appear as if he’s gliding across the floor.

She reads it quickly, making sure to shield it from any lookers, then walks out into the hall, of course, a certain boy already waiting for her just outside the door, ready to walk her to Potions. “What was that all about?” Draco questions.

“It’s just new student things.” She says with a sigh, tucking away the letter.

He rolls his eyes. “About? Have you opened the envelope? What is it?”

Twila groans in exhaust. It’s just like when they first met all over again. “It’s a love letter from your father.” She responds sarcastically.

He lets out an annoyed chuckle. “Come on, be honest with me.”

“It’s nothing, Draco.” She says, her tone growing slightly impatient now. She has enough going on, she doesn’t need his prying on top of it.

Twila’s eyes squint, noticing traffic outside the Potions’ door. She peeks over the shoulder of one of her classmates, eyeing what Professor Slughorn has in store. Each student that walks through the Potions’ door is handed a tray assorted with different ingredients. 

“Ah, here you go. You two will work together. And same for you two.”

Professor Slughorn hands Twila a tray, pointing her and Draco together as they enter the room. Draco responds with a quick ‘ugh’ before picking out a table for them near the window. “Come on, DeLuna. This way.”

He reads the instructions, purposefully only giving her a handful of tasks he thinks she’ll be able to handle while he does the rest. He pours in a vile of a purple liquid, mixing the pot while he reads the next step again. In the corner of his eyes, he notices Twila struggling with something. She’s carefully assessing the best way to hold the spine of lionfish, poking her fingers through its small and sharp bones. Once she has a clean grasp on it, she snaps it in half. Draco cringes at the sound, immediately putting down the parchment he’s holding in irritation. “I told you to powder the spine, not crack it!”

“I thought you said to powder the other stuff!” She exclaims, putting down the broken spine.

He narrows his brows at her vague words. “It’s called dittany and you can’t powder leaves, you idiot.”

“I mean… if it’s dried-”

“Powder the spine!”

He pushes forward with the potion, but keeps her in the corner of his eye. She’s acting odd today. Normally, she’s on top of her game. If anything, the Ravenclaw’s usually looking for excuses to show off to anything and anyone. Is it something to do with the Sorting Hat, or something more? “Did you and the girls have fun with your little dress up, slumber party last night?” He jokes.

“I had nothing to do with that.” She claims, pressing her pestle against the finely crushed bones in her bowl, cheeks turning rosy in remembrance.

“Right, of course.” He chuckles to himself, dipping in the ladle to mix the ingredients. He eyes her for a moment again, his sarcastic attitude slightly slipping away. “Are you sure you’re alright today?”

She quickly composes herself as she realizes he’s taken notice, letting out a soft sigh and still keeping her eyes on the mortar in her hands. “Yeah, I was just thinking about taking a bath later.”

Draco pauses, off guard for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “I’m being serious. I know you’re not actually thinking about taking a bath.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m going to bathe in that tub, Draco.” She says in all seriousness, placing down the bowl to look up at the boy.

He looks her up and down, face slowly contorting in confusion. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“It’s a magical bubble bath! Sorry, not all of us have pool sized baths in our homes.” She exclaims.

“Ah, the poor.” He says with a smirk.

“Ah, the normal.” She corrects.

He rolls his eyes once more, making room for Professor Slughorn to come and check their work. He leans over the cauldron, clapping his hands together with a smile as he sees the foamy bubbles he mentioned as a necessary component to the finished potion.  “Ah, excellent as usual. You’re both dismissed.”

Draco grabs his bag with a smirk, catching up with Twila on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. “So, tell me, is this bubble bath before or after the date with my father?”

༺ ☆ ༻

That night, Twila finds herself in the library. She quietly weaves through the desks and chairs, up to the librarian's desk. She discreetly shows her the pass and gets escorted to the section of the library secured and gated with thick iron bars.

“You have five minutes. No touching. I will know.” Madam Pince warns, opening the gates for the Ravenclaw.

Twila steps inside, descending down the stairs to the main level. There were plenty of interesting looking books; some with faces, ones with chains, others with intricate, glowing designs, but she is forced to walk past them and pretend to not be the slightest bit intrigued. She pulls out the note Snape gave her earlier. Heinous Healing: How to Heal the Broken. Quite the name. She searches the shelves for the familiar title, seeing nothing of the sort just yet.  “Damn.” She curses under her breath. How is she supposed to find the book in under five minutes when this place is ginormous?

She glances at the note once more, spinning on her toes to next check the shelf behind her, but when she looks up, she comes face to face with Tom Riddle himself,

alone with her in the Restricted Section.

Twila gasps loudly, whole body tensing in shock as she sees him towering above her, his face completely unreadable.

He glances down at the letter in her hand. He recognizes the book title, even while reading it upside down. He also eyes the inked lines of what would be a signature at the bottom of the paper, but, to his dissatisfaction, her thumb is covering the name of the teacher who signed it, though he has a guess. Tom turns and walks up to one of the tall shelves against the wall. He scans it boredly, before his eyes land on a yellowish brown book, picking it off the shelf and handing it to her in silence. 

She cautiously takes it from his hands before glancing back up at him. “Thank you.” She barely whispers and quickly paces back up towards the entrance without muttering another word, leaving him there now alone.

Madam Pince sits at her desk, making eye contact with Twila as she takes a mental note that she has now left the Restricted Section.