#me throwing things at the wall to see what sticks

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Nine

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

As they neared this outcropping of something in the corridors of nothing, a figure emerged before them — first as shadow, then as sound, and then a lonely silhouette. Tall, trim, standing in a practised poise before the doorway, he had ceased his work inside and came to greet them.

“Mio Barone,” said the man, bowing from the waist. “Che onore.”

“Ambrogio,” he said, greeting him in English for Tom’s sake. “Working late, I see.”

“As always. It is a pleasure,” he replied in perfect English.

He was a thin old man in a black suit buttoned tightly up and down, with wrinkled leather shoes. When he straightened from his bow, he seemed more like a floating face on a lithe shadow. What wisps of hair remained around his head sat behind his ears like bird nests, but his face was far less soft. Pale eyes, thin lips, a sunken face as cold as death.

“Tom,” said the Baron, “this is Mr. Ambrogio Oso. He helps us with many matters. An invaluable servant. Ambrogio, this is Tom Riddle.”

Tom looked him up and down and smiled thinly. Only Ambrogio’s eyebrows moved, quirking ever so slightly. He would make a remarkable corpse, thought Tom. “A pleasure,” he said, offering his hand.

The man reluctantly stepped forward and shook it — just once.

“Quite cold down here, isn’t it?” Tom noted. “Must be a nice change during the day.”

“Yes, we didn’t come down here to discuss the weather,” said the Baron. “Show us to collection B-1786.”

Ambrogio nodded and turned on his heels, leading them into the office. “This way, please.”

Tom followed, but his gaze lingered on the wall facing the door, where those tall red drapes were hanging. Slightly parted, they seemed to lead into another, shorter corridor. This place was more of a museum or a warehouse… He wondered if it had anything to do with that auction he’d heard Frederico mention to her during lunch.

The office was broad and wide, with three desks of which only one seemed busy. The walls were thick with old maps and photographs, and empty spiderwebs hung in the corners with no insects in sight. The place smelled like death and naphthalene. Crates gaped open all around, some covered discreetly with a shrowd, others not at all. There were books inside them mostly, but there were other items too. Elaborate bottles of red glass reinforced with blackened silver, candleholders, daggers, and cups.

Tom raised his head slightly, throwing a look from the corner of his eye upon that busy desk. Mr. Oso was in the middle of research involving a medieval ritual, it seemed, amid a medley of notes in both German and Arabic, fresh ink shining darkly beneath a green lamp.

Ambrogio went to one of the crates behind a corner and shuffled a few heavy things inside. He came out carrying three heavy tomes, each with a piece of paper sticking out of their pages, and set them on the nearest desk.

Tom didn’t wait for an invitation, he approached. Ambrogio stepped aside, hands tucked behind his back.

“So, I take it you want me to review these, Baron?”

“I want you to authenticate them, Tom.”

“I see…”

He threw his eyes over their covers. One was a copy of The Book of Abramelin, another was the Grimoire of Pope Leo, and last was the Grand Albert.

There was nothing untoward about the request, nor about the books themselves, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to touch them just yet. They looked old, too old. If it were up to him, he’d find it safer to look over them with magic.

“And the books I brought with me?”

“I will agree to a trade if you will serve me in this manner.”

“And then?” asked Tom, cocking a brow over his shoulder.

“Then, if you wish, you may continue to serve me.”

Tom scoffed and turned. “I already have an employer,” he said, tucking one hand in his pocket. “I’m only here for a few books, that is all.”

“Very well, then,” the old man shrugged, tapping the pipe against his coarse old palm. His assistant looked calm, but her eyes shifted nervously from the Baron back to Tom. “If, after this simple task, you will wish to end our collaboration, you may.”

Tom shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was fairly irritated at having been dragged out at this hour only to be given orders and obfuscations. And he wasn’t any closer to getting either of the remaining two books he needed.

“How long do I have?”

“I want a report ready in three weeks.”

“And what if they will prove to be forgeries?”

“Then you may keep them for nothing.”

“I have no use for fakes,” he chuckled.

“I doubt that,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. “Are we agreed?”

Tom looked from the Baron up to her. Behind him, he felt the shard of Ambrogio’s attention.

“Alright,” he said. “Although I expect payment during this time. Upfront.”

“You can discuss that with my secretary,” said the Baron, waving for the girl to push his wheelchair out. “Come by my office tomorrow.”

Tom watched her lead the old man from the room and reached down for the books. A pale hand stopped him, gripping his thin wrist so fast the blood froze in his veins.

“The books stay here,” Ambrogio said. “Baron’s orders.”

Tom clenched his jaw. It would’ve been far easier for him to analyse them in the comfort of his room where he could run detection charms for traces of stray magic, but perhaps there was some merit to working here. It would give him ample opportunity to explore this hidden and rather expansive part of the shop.

“So be it,” he smiled, yanking his arm free.

“Ambrogio,” the Baron called, “I bid you good night.”

“Good night, Baron. I shall see you out.”

Tom stepped back into the corridor. The vampire — for that is what Ambrogio was — followed.

“No need, no need,” said the Baron, fat arm waving as his assistant pushed him forward. “You probably wish to go home. Rest. Tom?”

“Yes, Baron?”

“We’re leaving. Come.”

“Right away.” He turned to look once more at Oso and saved a toothy smile for him. “I look forward to our collaboration.”

“It will be my pleasure, Mr. Riddle, to manage you,” he said.

Tom chuckled, and with one last scathing look, he left.

II

The chauffeur was waiting for the Baron outside. He and Tom helped load the old man in, and then he was left behind with his assistant as she closed up the shop.

“You shouldn’t have promised him that,” she said once they were alone. “Three weeks isn’t enough. The research alone would take one month, let alone writing a report.”

“I know men like him,” said Tom, waiting for her to secure all the locks. “They love ambitious, overachieving youngsters. Reminds them of the children they never had. Gives them something to brag about. Besides,” he added, “I can do it.”

“He doesn’t want children,” she said with a faint smile as she turned, joining him on the cold empty street. “He wants servants.”

“Same thing, in their eyes.”

He helped her put her coat on, and then they began to walk together toward the tram station.

“I just worry that you’ve —”

“I know,” said Tom, a strange feeling gripping him. “But I have everything under control.”

She looked at him with soft and tired eyes above a fading smile. “At least that makes one of us.”

Tom frowned. “Who is this Oso, anyway? Has he always worked down there?”

“Always. He’s been there since long before I was hired.”

“And he works alone?”

“Mostly.”

“At night?”

She shrugged, her shoulders squeezed up to her ears as if she were a frightened bird. “Sometimes. Honestly, I don’t know his comings and goings. Sometimes he’s there during the day, sometimes he’s not.”

“You visit him down there?” Tom asked with a cocked brow.

“No, in fact… in fact, I’m not really supposed to go down there without a reason. There’s a telephone…”

Tom nodded, piecing it together. She seemed not to know her colleague was a vampire, and now he wondered if even the Baron knew.

“So, what sort of person is he?”

“Ambrogio? He’s… a professional,” she said, shrugging again. “He’s private, doesn’t really have a sense of humour.”

“I never would’ve guessed.”

“And he likes things to be just so. Hates it when people touch his things or…”

“Or ask him any questions?”

“Yes,” she chuckled.

“I’ll be sure to do a lot of that, then,” smiled Tom.

She looked up at him, smiling now as well, her cheeks a little fuller and her eyes alight, but sad and… worried. Tom frowned. There was that feeling again, that spasmodic odium whenever she looked at him so softly and smouldering with the unspoken. She was afraid for him — not of him, but for him — and Tom didn’t know what to do with that. He had no point of reference. Nothing to compare it to.

“Let me walk you home,” he offered, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “You can tell me all about the mess I’ve gotten myself into on the way.”

That got a chuckle out of her, at least. “You know I live quite far, and it’s already late.”

“I don’t mind.”

She smiled at him, and it caught — he smiled back.

III

She made no mention of Clement or what happened to him, but it was clear to Tom she greatly feared the Baron. From the tremble in her voice to the way she hugged herself, he could tell she had some kind of trauma. Something about how she sat when they were in the tram together, close enough she had to whisper, body curled in on itself, told him she needed to be held. Tom kept his hands firmly, very firmly, on his lap.

“So Ambrogio never goes upstairs?” he quietly asked.

“Never since I’ve worked there. I’m glad, honestly. He’s a little creepy… But the Baron greatly depends on him.”

“How is he paid?” Tom whispered.

“What do you mean? You mean how much?”

“Y-yes, that’s what I meant.”

“Oh, I don’t know. A lot, I expect.”

“Right.”

“He’s dangerous though. Don’t underestimate him, even if he’s old and frail,” she whispered back, her voice warm against his neck.

“Oh I’m sure,” Tom chuckled.

“I’m serious!” she insisted, speaking quietly but a little fearful now. She was so secretive, even if they were the only people on the midnight tram. “I think… I think he worked for the Mafia before.”

Tom laughed at that. It felt oddly refreshing… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so sincerely.

“I’m serious!”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Forgive me. I just… doubt it.”

“I know, I know. Their oath is supposed to be for life, right? But maybe this is why he works at night. Maybe he’s in hiding.”

“Mmm,” Tom nodded with a smile.

He could feel her at his shoulder, her body close to his and warm against the chilly night. How different it was from the day… Fragrant and alluring like a calm spring day, but dark and empty. Only the two of them existed.

The tram came to her stop at her station, far from the city centre. They got off, Tom going first to hold his hand for her.

“You’re certainly right about one thing, thought,” he said after they started walking down her street. “He is dangerous. Best keep away from him.”

“I do,” she nodded.

“Good,” said Tom. And he almost promised to take care of Oso for her but stopped himself at the last moment. How stupid that would be,he thought.

They walked in silence down the street, which looked even more squalid at night, both lost in their own thoughts.

“What is it?” Tom asked as they neared her building, unnerved by the silence.

“I just wish you hadn’t walked me back,” she chuckled, “that’s all.”

“Oh,” he smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you for where you live. I’m only quiet because I was thinking.”

“Just following me blindly then?”

“To the grave,” smiled Tom. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny.”

She laughed anyway. “You’re a little strange, Tom… But I like you anyway.”

“You mean you like me in spite of it?”

“Perhaps. But I still like you.”

She looked at him in a peculiar way, as if his eyes could keep her warm, and although her lips turned upward there was a strain to it. She was trying not to smile too brightly…

Tom swallowed the knot in his throat and shuffled his feet on the ground. They stood right in front of her building.

“Well, here I am,” she sighed. “Home again…”

“Is it really?”

She didn’t answer.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” said Tom. “And many days after that.”

“You still have time to reconsider,” she said. “You haven’t signed anything yet…”

Tom laughed, the sound playing through the empty streets. “You speak of your employer as if he were the devil.”

“What, do you think you’re the only one that gets to do that?” she chuckled.

He blushed a little. She remembered what he’d said that night when he complained. It had been stupid of him to drink all that wine, stupid of him to talk. But he was glad that she remembered… He was almost touched. At least, he wanted to be.

“Good night,” he said. “And try not to worry.”

[coldgoldlazarus]

I think part of the reason I'm so affectionate toward Hunters is just how off-the-wall it feels. "Let's just throw up all the crazy, cool ideas we have and see what sticks" kind of energy. Metroid has always had its own particular vibe, sitting in this weird tension between Retrofuture Biological/Eldritch Space Horror and Hype Super Robot Anime. Hunters is still kinda doing some of that, but also kinda not.

Most typical multiplayer first-person shooters at the time, meanwhile, were in their Brown Is Real phase, along with an overabundance of Iraq War Jingoism. Even Halo, much as I do appreciate it for being... less that than the rest, still had undercurrents if you look at the subtext any amount. So Hunters, being a more multiplayer-focused shooter, could easily have gone that direction too if so inclined. But nope, not that either.

I don't know how to really describe it, honestly. The designs, if anything, remind me of like, Ben 10 aliens or Buzz Lightyear or Jetix almost. There is just this very distinctly Early Aughts Saturday Morning Action Cartoon vibe to these characters and their backgrounds that you didn't see anywhere else in games, and just don't see anywhere period now. It's definitely still Metroid, especially with the main stuff with the Alimbics and Gorea, but it's also doing its own thing. And for how different it was from other shooters, Hunters also feels like it couldn't have been made any other time than exactly when it was.

The Prime Trilogy is already responsible for broadening the scope and adding a ton of worldbuilding. And then Hunters, this obscure spinoff on hardware much too limited for its ambition, tosses out all these crazy things in the span of some character bios that could fit on the back of an action figure blister pack, and refuses to elaborate further. And I think that's part of the vibe right there - action figures. They feel like action figures for some weird Jetix cartoon, and I adore that so so much.

[floredaqueen]

"Slowly This Time.."

Isabela Wheeler x Billy Hargrove

♡

After a few weeks of dating, Isabela and Billy go on their first date. Billy gets the idea to go dancing at the skating rink when he finds out Isabela wasn't lying about being a competitive ballroom dancer. As they're having fun, things get hot and heavy and even more so when they head back to his place..♡

♡

Warnings:

18+, MINORS DNI, HEAVY sexual tension, Mentions of sex, first time haze, description of rough sex, cursing, Billy being a dick, water works(squirting), light aftercare mention, Billy being a whole BRAT, mutual pining, p n v/no protection (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT HOES) ILLUSTRATED DEPICTION of SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!!

⚠️Read W/Caution ⚠️

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It was already 7:30, Isabela showing up to Hawkin's high parking lot by foot. Since there was a sidewalk that led to the front of the school, the Guatemalan girl would take the initiative to walk sometimes. It helped to clear her head in the mornings and even gave her fresh eyes. Her hips swayed quickly as she walked through the open road surrounded by some of the student body. Her eyes never left the front of her, never wasting time to glance over at people or overhear their conversations.

Today was a day of academic focus, and that trend would continue as Isa made her way to her locker. Then, and only then, did that plan throw itself out the window, Billy Hargrove showing up right next to her, only to slide big calloused hands firmly around her clothed waist. With the feel of his hands, his new girlfriend became startled, still not used to the feeling of being touched so intimately.

"Oh my gosh! Would it kill you to announce yourself every once in a while??" The studious girl whined, only to be met with that infamous cheeky grin her mischievous boyfriend possessed. Other people might not have thought much of it, but to Isa, the gesture of him even thinking to do that was something that always made her puddy in his hands.

"Where's the fun that? I like bringing excitement to your boring little life," Okay, rude. It was all playful, though, Billy smirking even more and pressing a kiss to the side of her face temple and neck while his sweet girlfriend rolled her eyes. Boring? Her life was anything but! The things she had to endure when they first met. Nova's constant She felt "tame" was a better word to use for it, especially now.

Other than that, it was like dating the historically correct Zeus. She was finding him caressing her, pressing sweet kisses everywhere he could, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Doing whatever he can without forcing those strong hands of his down her bottoms. It was like it pained him, but could he really be blamed?

They way he gravitated towards her when she curled her long hair, the way her hips moved in a hypnotic, fluid motion while being clothed in the cutest skirts.. what were the called.. tiered? Gathered? Godet? Pleated? Whatever, her ass looked perfect in everything she put on. The way her arms hugged her notebooks, textbooks, bag, whatever she had with her worh such care. Her cherishable grin and her big, sweet brown eyes. It was enough to make the troublesome guy make her trembling puddy in his hands.

"Well, I'll let you spice up my more Friday night! We could.. go out." Isa bashfully suggested, looking away from Billy's intense blue hues. The way he looked suggestively at her.. It was like he knew what she wanted to say but enjoyed the thrill of watching her struggle to finish her all-too-simple sentence. Once Billy had enough of her adorable stuttering, his hands squeezed even more at her waist, his breath hitching once her boyfriend heard the soft whimper that escaped her kissable lips.

"If you wanna go out on a date, you could just ask, babe," He'd tease, Isa immediately groaning after. She felt like she shouldn't have to ask. She was his girlfriend, after all. He could see the look of annoyance all over her slightly freckled face. It even caused him to let out a chuckle. Isabela continued her groaning, rolling her eyes as she turned back around only to shut her locker door.

Slipping through Billy's enticing grasp, she began to head to her next class. Quickly, her boyfriend stopped her in her tracks.

"Come on, sweet girl, 'M just kidding," He'd start, Isa slightly relieved when he did stop her and eased up on the taunting. While it was charming most of the time, it did get on her nerves as well, not wanting to be satirized every time she got bashful.

"Where do you wanna go?" Hargrove would ask, Isa only taking half of a second to really thinking about it.

"We could go dancing! The nee skating they just built does dancing nights!" The way she lit up as she talked about how she wanted to spend the Friday night with him made Billy's heart swell. Even when he taunted her all to hell, she still wanted to spend time with him every chance she got. It made him want to do more for her.. like take her out dancing at the new skating joint.

.♡ ♡ ♡.

Before they both knew it, Friday came along. It was 4 p.m., Isa taking out all of the curlers she had in her hair. Billy loved when she had her hair curled. In his words, he had said it made her look elegant.. "Like a flower," Quickly, she brushed through her dark chocolate locks, grabbing her dry shampoo and dispersing it all over to make it shimmer.

She had already picked out her wardrobe for the evening. It was a short, red long sleeved slip dress and her favorite dancing heels. Most of the blisters on her feet from last month's ballroom dance camp had mostly healed, so she'd decided to give them a try again. She didn't even notice until she took off her shoes. She was so used to the feeling of pain sometimes, just bottling it up until she had to face it.

She was just finishing up, fastening the buckle of her ankle strap and putting on the flower hoop earrings he had got her when she dragged him with her to the store. He wasn't one for buying things, but the way his sweet girl looked at them when she passed by.. well why the hell not?

Isabela could hear the revv of a certain bad boy's blue Camaro from her bedroom. She peered through her window, quickly grabbing her, checking on her pastel makeup, and grabbing her purse before rushing downstairs. It might've been too obvious how excited she was. She couldn't wait to share this, something she enjoyed more than most things, something that gave her a purpose and a way to disconnect. No alcohol, no drugs, no nicotine.. just pure adrenaline. The Latina had hope Billy would experience that too, at least for a little while.

The studious dancer was out the front door by the time the blonde lover boy was out of the driver's seat. She got an eye full of what she hoped she could pull off of him tonight. He sported that satin red button-up with a white tee under it and the necklace his mother gave him. He also sported a new part of denim jeans that he had bought a week ago. The closer she had got, the closer she could smell the scent of rosewood and eucalyptus wafting to her.

Suddenly, Isa felt the brush of his hand against her rayon clad hips. Her cheeks really started to heat up when she felt the brush of Billy's soft lips against her own. Already, she was hot.. already, he was testing her. The Latina exhaled into the sweet kiss, her hands gently holding onto the fabric of his short sleeves. He broke away shortly, his hands hovering over the height of her ass. He could feel her quivering by time he pulled her closer.

Billy couldn't wrap his head around why Isabela was so shy around him. He's seen her naked and dripping wet for him for God's sake.. or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe she was trying to keep up appearances with him..? But why would she do that? She had no reason to..

Over the past 2 months, Billy had shared his shame with her on more than one occasion. Yet, her love and affection for him was unconditional.. It frustrated him that Isabela still had some of her walls up. So tonight, he was going to relieve some of that tension in her shoulders... emotionally and physically, and make her feel as good as she looked... and God, did she look good.

"A sight for sore eyes is what you are, darlin." Billy flashed that sweet grin that made Isabela's own smile quiver. With a kiss on his temple, Isa strolled over to the passenger seat, her boyfriend following soon after. He leaned over and surprised her by opening the door for her. It made that grin of her quiver again...

"Thanks, Cariño.." Isa added, maintaining her giddy smile as she carefully climbed into the passenger seat. She quickly fastened her seatbelt and adjusted her frame to the curve of the seat, as well as the hand Billy had placed on the plush of her smooth thigh. The reserved girl could tell that tonight was going to be an important one for their blossoming relationship.

♡ ♡ ♡

It wasn't long before Billy arrived at the new rink. Before that, the new couple had been jamming to whatever he had on the tape that had been left in his car the longest. It wasn't quiet either, Isa talked his ear off while he enjoyed listening to her stories about Nance and her recent change. She seemed stronger, more independent, and it inspired Isabela to be more as well. lf it was called "Neon Lights," a name that seemed rather redundant the more she thought about it. Every rink she'd ever been to had neon lights surrounding the dance floor. It made her wonder... why that name? Billy seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he briefly commented on the name.

"What the hell is that name? Couldn't they have come up with something better?" He scoffed, running a hand through his greasy hair as he scanned the parking lot for the nearest spot. Since it had just opened, everyone was at the rink, which meant it would be packed. Needless to say, Billy had found a spot soon enough, and by finding a spot, he meant finessing a parking space close to the second handicapped space. It had Isa giggling a bit. His nonchalance about where he parked and if it got him in trouble or not, even then Billy didn't care. He just wanted to get his girl inside as quickly as he could to start their fun.

While his girl practically skipped inside and onto the dance floor, Billy quickly grabbed a beer that the other partygoers were handing out like party favors. His eyes followed Isabela's pretty little body, soon settling on her sweet face as she carelessly danced into the crowd. It's refreshing to see her so in her element.

Once again, there was that sensational feeling that shot up Isabela's spine when she felt Billy's rest at her waist. With his firm grip, Billy pulled her closer, the fresh scent of beer on his lips as he brought kisses to her neck, jawline, and cheek. In that time, their sway was in unison, the beat of the music muffled as she focused on his timed breaths. Isa's right hand stroked his face, gentle and thoughtful.

In time, Billy grew restless, his hands indigently placing a firm grip lower and lower until he was teasing her clothed thigh and hips. Isa returned the favor with a wiggle of her hips so that her sweet, clothed bottom would brush up against the tip of his groin. For once, she was teasing him back, and it was not going to stop there. The fiery couple went at it until they were grinding against each other in the process.

When she heard a growl escape from Billy's lips, Isa's ears practically burned. The expression on his face was dreamy, and yet it was dripping with hunger along with the sweat on his brow. It didn't help that she couldn't get a word out either. His soft and needy kisses are pressed to her lips in such a soft manner that it makes her at a loss for those words. It was like that for a while, Isa was too busy with her handsy horndog of a boyfriend to check the time.

Isa snatched a swift look within the time window, noticing that it was 9:30. She had to be home by 10. She turned, his grasp on her getting a little tight. She could tell he was getting more and more restless, her cheeks tinting with the rough lock of their lips. A whimper escaped her lips as she pulled away.

Billy whined, of course. Looking back at his baby with much desire, Isa would've thought he was malnourished. Billy thought he was. He yearned for a taste of the young woman standing right in front of him. He craved her moans and gasps and squeals whenever he dug himself -his tongue, his hands, his cock- deep enough to send her into that needy mindset Billy knew he could always get his Isa in.

"C'mon sweetness. There's no shame in letting go right here," He'd huskily tell her, obviously lying his through his teeth just to get what he wanted. In all honesty, he didn't care whether anyone or no one was around them. He wanted to make her scream and buckle beneath him. He wanted so bad to hear her beg and tell him that she couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to see her come undone over and over until they were both sweaty and soaked.

"If you take me home now, I promise I'll give you that and more, okay?" Isa bargained, hoping he'd agree and give in. He did, not responding verbally but physically. He gave her a peck on her sweet cheeks and a surprising pat on her plush backside before standing on his own again.

Billy was quick to rush them both to the car, practically chasing Isabela through the parking lot like a masked killer. Once they got to his blue Camaro, the impatient minx would trap poor Isa against the passenger side door. Billy smirked down at her eager yet reticent expression, thinking he'd try his luck once again. Pressing a final chaste peck to those delectable lips, he withdrew just far enough to peer down at his captivating sirens through smoldering lashes that were very clearly heavy with want.

"Please..." he rumbled low enough for it to shiver her spine, sliding his broad palms down over the flaring curve of her hips to clamp around the swell of her ass in a tender yet possessive grasp. Isa whined almost immediately, attempting to set boil that her wolf was on to a low simmer.

"Amor, you promised–" He was to interrupt her, twisting a tangled lock of dark silk around his calloused finger, Billy drew her flush against his already straining fly, arousal surging shamelessly at the feel of her lithe frame molding into his.

"I did't promise a damn thing.." He immediately hissed, capturing her sweet mouth in a shamelessly filthy kiss to halt her protests, his tongue delved to coax a taste of that intoxicating nectar he crave just to feel her whimpers and swallow her moans. He even went as far as to lift up on of her deliciously lean thighs, lowering that same hand to cup the hot swell of her cunt through lace-thin panties.

"C'mon baby, a few minutes won't kill. I'll make it feel real good for you."

His straining cock twitched eagerly at her mercy beneath dress slacks as cerulean orbs smoldered with his desires barely held in check. Billy yearned for one thing.. and that was to see this spanish beauty completely fall apart under his wickedly skillful dexterities.

"That I promise.."

Even if he was trying super hard, with baited breath, Isabela declined, one of her small hands creeping around his neck only to pull them all the closer. The tease of a girl leaned in for another heated embrace only to stop and whisper her plea against his pretty kiss-bitten lips.

"Open the door, Will.."

Shit, she was serious. Billy backed off for real this time, for now, growling and grumbling in low frustration as he begrudgingly watched the vixen that was his girlfriend cutely maneuver herself over so he could open the door. He slowly opened it, his currently dark, almost sinister gaze doing its best to make her fold under it as she held it. She didn't hold it for long, her bright doe orbs flickering off to the side until she saw the door wide open.

"Thank you, lindo!" Isa responded brightly, getting a snort out of him as his eyes traveled with her until she was seated and buckled in. Then, and only then did he shut the door, slightly jogging his way to the driver's side and hopping in as quickly as possible.

The drive itself was calm, the tunes on low while a large calloused hand snaked its way in between a caramel smooth thigh. He'd take the initiative to give a deep squeeze, the poor girl wincing silently from it. He just barely caught her reaction, his lips slowly curling into an arrogant smirk. Isa, however, caught his stupid smirk, a soft pout coming to her own lips while she leaned toward the window comfortably. The silence between then was practiced, but pleasant, things only taking a turn when Billy continued his route when the Wheeler house was right there. Isa quickly caught sight of this change, looking to Billy for an answer.

"Thought you might like some alone time.. just you and me," He explained to her in a swift thought. Her bad boy continued the smooth drive, heading to his home instead. He figured,'Why not?' considering Max was sleeping over at Jane's and his "parents" were away on a trip. They had the place all to themselves.

It didn't take him long to arrive, especially with his intense motivation, Billy swifting neatly into his driveway. A millisecond went by before Billy hopped out, once again casually speeding around to the other side, only to surprise Isa by picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. A mix of a loud gasp and squeal escape her, her limbs wailing a bit out of control as she was carried inside.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized this was the first time she's been inside the Hargrove household. The atmosphere was warm, at least when no one else was there. The mellow light from the various lamps around the living room he turned on as helped too. Everything was near, and she even spotted a mini workout station she assumed only Billy used. She didn't know.. maybe his dad could carry 100 pounds of weight altogether.

By the time Isa was done thinking, Billy had entered his room, the agile latina become even more nosey while her eyes scanned everything about his room. A bag or two on the floor. The messy nightstand with paper scattered onto it. His slightly made bed. The crude posters on the wall. The boom box is in the corner. His closet was closed, so she couldn't snoop through his clothes.

Billy's eyes flashed dangerously as he closed his bedroom door, a ravenous grin spreading across his handsome features as he thought about all the things he was gonna do to the girl on his shoulder.

Before she could say much, Isa was placed onto his bed, Billy determined to get his girl into the same mood as he was in. He was quick with the kisses, hearing Isabela's audible amusement through soft whimpers and giggles that were only fueling his anticipation. Isa enjoyed the feel, obviously, realizing how deep the kisses were getting as he traveled down from her lips, all the way to her neck.

Her hands only moved from Billy's comforter to his hair when his lips became stationary at the pulsing point of her neck. The teasing kisses and nibbles to it were just the appetizer, Isa soon felt Billy try his best to form a hickey, the sucking on her pulsating flesh, sending a soft gasp through and out of her.

Soon enough, Isabela pulled away her flushed face and delirious expression all the more heightened as she struggled to pull off her heels. They were killing her now that she was sitting on the comfort of his mattress.

Luckily for the Guatemalan, Billy could practically see the wheels spinning in her head, still somewhat shy and uncertain despite her boldness earlier. It made him want to devour her all the more.

Kneeling before her, he gently grasped one slim ankle in his hands. Maintaining intense eye contact, he slowly dragged the shoe from her foot and tossed it aside. Then, he attended to the other with equal care, calloused fingers massaging her arches briefly in the process.

"Better," the sweet latina moaned in appreciation, her handsome boyfriend grinning up at her in turn.

"Yeah..?" he murmured, letting his hands trail teasingly up her calves as he rose back to sitting. A low chuckle escaped his pretty, kiss swollen lips as he watched her nod and giggle hazily.

"Yeah," Billy found himself being pulled by his face. Isa apparently decided she wanted to be kissed until she couldn't think straight, her generous boyfriend all but denying her that pleasure. Billy landed a searing, branding kiss to her lips, a sweet whine from Isabela sending a sharp flutter up his slightly worked spine.

Even after that mind hazing kiss, Billy continued adding onto the palpable sexual tension, trailing his sweetness that the adopted Wheeler called his lips down her writhing torso. All the while, big hands were working the smooth fabric or her short dress up her pretty little waist.

A soft gasp followed by a satisfying moan escaped Isabela's mouth when she felt the softness of his lips against her aching clit. A deep, vibrated chuckle fled Billy's lips as he kissed and prodded at the swollen nub, playing with it until the sounds of her needy whines were more and more prominent.

Isa was already attempting to fight Billy on this, the overwhelming pleasure in his actions never seizing to exist. She would continue her weak pleas, the hesitation in her words quickly turning into something more needy. Billy caught on to the difference, taking the initiative to press a few fingers into her aching core.

Of course, it shocked Isabela, still not used to the feeling of his fingers.. which got her thinking about where this was going to lead. Quickly though, her thoughts deteriorate into nothing from the harsh motion of the tips of Billy's digits sloppily hitting a sensitive spot that originated deep in her velvet walls.

"Oohhh-" Isa could feel her hips buck, her legs fighting against them as they shook from the threat of oveestimulation. Meanwhile, her vicious boyfriend continued to encourage her orgasm. A bunch of "You gonna come for me?"s and "You're squeezing my fingers,"s, but the big one that had her really clamping down on him was when he growled against her ear,

"Squirt for me, baby.. come on, you can do it,"

A lot happened at once, then, the heat at the lower edge of Isabela's stomach bursts, the timid girl letting out a weak squeal. Her hips lifted swiftly, a mischievous laugh escaping Hargrove as his oceans hues locked on the delicious sight of his girl coming undone from just his touch. Not only that, but the forced feeling of turning into a geyser hit Isa like a tanker truck as well. Her nose scrunched up as she felt and heard the wetness of her squirt appear and cover Billy's hand, his sheets, and any other surface it could reach.

"That's it.. There's a good girl.."

Her mind was hazy, in a continuing falling state, and his for the taking. Next thing Isa knew, Billy was all over her, his lips clinging onto every inch of her skin whilst he undressed himself. First was his satin, crimson colored shirt, his mitts in swift motion while exposing his toned chest and stomach.

He was generous, allowing the latina under him to cop a feel of what would inevitably be dominating her. Tonight was the night. The night the ashe blonde would be graced with what he was aching for over the past two and a half months. Isa came to the conclusion that she'd never be ready, which is why she gradually built herself up for it.

Fingering, manhandling, biting, oveestimulation.. but couldn't she handle him fully. This was Isabela's night to show Billy she could. With her soft palms caressing his overtly muscular stomach, her sniveling boyfriend firmly grasped one of her wrists, his oceans blues boring holes in her big Hershey's kisses. Billy was quick, swiftly guiding her hand in his boxers. She remembered being surprised he even wore boxers, knowing what the complete monster that hid in the looked like.. and boy was he terrifying.

A quick pull at his briefs and his package was being presented in full, glorious view. All eight and a half inches deliciously aroused to the brim. The pre was practically drooling from him. It was everything she hoped for. Sloppy and needy, and oh so ready for the struggle. Oh, Billy could feel himself throb at the thought.

♡ ♡ ♡

He was quick with his demands.

"Keep your legs spread," as he pushed her plsyh thighs apart to bring himself in between her.

"Move your hands.." as he firmly grasps her wrists in one hand and brings them over her head.

"Ge it wet for me, baby," as he grabs the base of himself, sloppily tapping against her soaked folds until her clit was swollen enough to alert her to start gushing.

"Atta girrl~" He praised wantonly, watching as her flood gated opened once again for him. Surely enough, it didn't take Billt much time to lather himself in, pumping his sopping wet cock with his hand to put on a show for his girl. Conversely, Isa was eating it up, listening to the sounds he'd make as he teased her so effortlessly.

"Billy.." Isa whined, her eyes weary of his because of her awareness. She was aware of how she looked, and she looked needy.. which didn't help because she was. Billy's sore eyes snapped to hers, running up hee body before he leaned down to speak.

"What is it, mama..? You ready for me?" He quested rhetorically, a smirk easily showing on his pretty lips. When Isa nodded, Billy gently shook his head, his eyes -once again- telling her everything she needed to know.

"What do you want, baby? You want this dick inside you..?" He pressed, his hips slowly grinding against her heated entrance to keep the pleasure constant. Her mewling got louder, Billy once against surprising his sweet girlfriend by wrapping his other hands around her throat. A light squeeze, that was all, but it was enough to get her talk for him.

"Tell me-"

"Y-yes! I want you inside me- I want it!" She admitted, her voice still soft enough for him to only catch her words. He nodded himself, letting her go and one again grabbing the base of his cock once more. Lining himself up, Billy serged his tip inside her entrance. He was slow, knowing how nervous she still must've been considering how tight she was.

Isa winced, her hands tightly gripping the sheets above her head. It was already a lot, if she was honest with herself. Her body was trembling, even if Billy was doing his best to make her comfortable. So far, Billy was proud of his girl, the brunette taking it the way he was giving it to her. They were both surprised he managed to fit, but there were still many inches to go. Isa continued to hold her breath, soft affirmations leaping off of Billy's tongue while his fingers slithered their way to her clit. A swift most continued against it while he pushed further and further. He wasn't even half away in and he was already stretching her to her limit.

"F-fuck- hold on, amor~" the sweet latina huffed, her eyes fluttering all over the place while she got used to his width. She anticipated him plowing her breath away, but they haven't even gotten that far yet. Billy waited, patience really seeming like a virtue in this moment the way he held back for her. Although it wasn't long until she gave Billy the go-ahead, hearing Isabela's pleas to continue while being all too eager to oblige.

He was quick for her, her hold on his navy blue sheets mighty enough to pull them off of his mattress. When he bottomed her out, a moan escaped both of them, Billy acknowledging tur snug fit her velvet walls put him in. It hot.. fuck, it was more than hot. It felt sinister to be this deep in someone. Not that he hasn't done it before. God knows how many men and women who's world he's rocked. In the same rushed thought, Billy had realized this I'd thr longest he's gone without thoroughly fucking someone's brains out. Two and a half months of salivating, tortous foreplay with this hot and sweet piece of latina that was under him squirming.. helplessly.

Speaking of, Billy watched the tears stream down her cheeks even as she wrapped her pretty legs around his waist. It was time.

"You ready..?" Billy suggested, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. To him, it was no fun wrecking her unless she was absolutely on board. It was Billy's charming smile and reddened face that had her nodding, seeing the effect she had on him.

♡ "Mhmm" ♡

He got going in an unhurried manner, subconsciously cautious and barely even moving his hips in rhythm with hers. It was sweet like this, his calloused hands moving up to grasp her airy little wrists only to just hold them in play. It was long after that still he could his lips over hers, kissing her in such a passionate way that it had her moaning in pleasure. He kept at it, only stopping when he felt her slick juices cover his manhood. It was hot and heavy, and DEFINITELY plenty to get him to change his pace. As he quickened his hips, her moans and whimpers got louder.

It was a lot, to say the least. Isabela found herself with her back arched and the butterflies in her stomach swarming. Exce0t this time, it was a slower built than when he was fingering the shit out of her. It was a fight between pleasure and pain.. so much pleasure to where it became painful.

"Billly!" She yelped, the grip her legs had on his waist loosening as he thrusts turned into straight pistons.

"You're so goddamn tight for me baby- milking my fucking dick for all it's worth.." he praised gruffly, wasting no time in setting a brisk pace.

Snapping his cock in and out powerfully, the rhythmic slap of flesh echoed off the walls as he took her hard and thorough. All the while, his siren blue orbs gazed appreciatively over her breasts. It didn't matter how small they were. They were gorgeous during their rhythmic bounce in contrast to his own cadenced and gradually harsh thrusts. He quick to make it rough, freeing one of her hands just to snake his own behind her head to firmly grip a chunk of her cocoa colored locks of hers.

"Tell me who owns this pretty pussy," he gritted out, sweat-slick from steam and exertion. Claiming her lips in a ravaging kiss, he swallowed her cries of pleasure. His fingers dug into soft skin, he plunged deeper still, eyes rolling back at the exquisite velvet glove pressure building him swiftly closer once again.

"Eres dueño de mi cuerpo, amor. ¡Por favor llévame! Quiero ser tuyo~" She spoke deeply against her lips. Only for him to stop, remaining balls deep and grinding every bit of himself inside of her aching slit.

"What do I do to you, huh?" He'd question breathlessly, her the hand tangled through her hair sliding downward to pull her againsr him further.

"Use your words, ma.."

It took her a moment to answer, her thoughts racing around her own mind as she attempted to piece together a sentence while the bully that was her boyfriend remained stubborn.

"Me vuelves loca, amor. He querido esto durante mucho tiempo... tenerte dentro de mí... tomarme como tuyo"

He didn't understand a word she said, but he knew enough to know what she was really saying.

'I love you and I want to be yours. I want you to make me yours. Please will you make me yours?'

The way she sounded was needy and breathless, and Billy aimed for his sweet girl to be satisfied and breathless and nothing else.

"Shit baby, you trying to kill me?" Billy growled out in awe and fresh arousal, almsot feeling as if he was about to blow beneath her eager ministrations. Clearly, his little vixen had an even bigger appetite than he suspected. Not that he was complaining, far from it. Gripping her stationary hips firmly, he planted his feet and started thrusting to feel each delicious stroke with sharp, focused drives. Isa went back to whimpering helpless, feeling herself ger pushed further and further to the end of her short fuse.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Take me till you break, sweetness," he snarled up at her, eyes closed in bliss as her tight sheath clutched at him in a pornographic rhythm.

His hands roamed greedily over her bouncing breasts, pinching her nipples into tight beads as encouragement to get her to scream for it. The lewd squelching sounds of their coupling filled the air, mingling with her sinful cries.

"God you feel so fucking good, takin' this dick so well, Isa," he grunted proudly.

Snapping his hips straight into hers to grind directly into her sweet spot, he smirked in masculine triumph at the shriek it drew from deep in her throat.

"You wanna cum again already? Fucking slur aren't you?? You want to cum all over me so fucking bad."

He contined with his mocking, watching the rest of her blood rush to her already cherry red face. He had a feeling shed respond happily to his teasing, testing it out a few times back when she'd only let him kiss her. It was so cute how her nose scrunched up in embarrassment, just like it did in the moment.

That pretty little back of hers arched, giving her sly sweetheart to ram himself further inside. He watched the effect, while he mindless shot every bit of his smoldering hot seed into her core. Her curls were messy, in her face and covering her pretty mouth, which was trying its best not to let out another blood heating squeal.

All the pleasure practically shot up her body the way her thighs shook before clamping down on instinct, a fresh gush of fluids drenching them both gloriously. So. Fucking. Goregous. It's been a while since he made someone cum like that.. God, and he couldn't wait to practically see her soul leave her body again.

He was quick to comfort her, watching more tears build up in globs before pouring down her flushed face. He still wasn't good at the 'word comforting thing,' or whatever the hell she called it, but he was pretty good at holding her. A few kisses to her temples, one sweet peck on the lips and another one on her neck for good measure. Then he scooped her up, not pulling out until he knew she was okay.

Isa noticed all of these things, his actions quite reassuring in the sense that he actually listened to her when she spoke about this stuff. It was just him staring at her. His eyes lowered as if he was only thinking about taking her right then there. That's all she thought it was, but really, he was just.. thinking.

Thinking about how he could excute that.. in his own way. She was always open with him, expressing her fears to him.. about him. For a while, he didn't know how to take it. It slightly missed him off about every little thing she tried to change.

His bad habits, mostly. His high sex drive, his anger issues, the drinking, and smoking. All of it. Isa admitted to herself that she was pushy, but she was never demanding. She always let him take his time.

It was always his decision to make.. just with her big brown eyes and sweet persuasion, staring him down every time he thought about it.

So even after the fights that would have her in tears by the end of it, he'd still come back to her and tell her, "I can't promise this shit will be easy for me.. but I want to.. try,"

And her saying back, "I don't expect to he easy, Bills.."

It was her accepting him with open arms, and so this is what it would turn into. He was still a very heavy work on progress, but he was proud to say he barely takes a sip of beer anymore, he attempts to keep his cool, and he only smokes the occasional cigarette every 3 weeks. Yeah it's a very slow go, but it's working.. because she believed him. Now he takes everything she says to heart.

And she saw that.

"..You're so lucky I take the pill,"

♡ ♡ ♡

Within two or three hours Isa and Billy managed to get out of bed and get themselves clean, his lovely little latina making her way over to his closet to snoop of a comfortable shirt.

"Jeez, don't you have anything that you can't rip off so easily?" Billy laughed at that one, his footsteps getting closer and closer until he was beside her with on arm around Isa's waist.

"Yeah yeah. You say that, but you love the way I dress.." He fired back, hus sweet girlfriend peeping the genuine smile that played on his pretty lips. It was enough to have her smiling too. Isa continued her looking, Billy quickly taking over by handing her a pear of sweatpants and one of his loose white tees.

"Guess your dressing like me tonight.."

It took her a minute to realize what he was implying, Isa slowly and lightly grapsing the clothes from Billy's palms. Her gaze slightly widened when she understood his words, covering her nude figure in slightly embarrassment.

"You.. want me to stay over?" Isa asked, still not believing him. Billy rolled his eyes, his small smirk on his face when he looked back at her.

"Unless you want me to drive you home at 12:30 in the morning.

After that, Isa quickly put on his clothes, slightly trugfling even though they were so loose. It didn't help that her excitement had her hopping all over the place. Plopping herself on the edge of his bed, Isa began to pull up her hair. She was quick to braid it back, staring in the mirror he had against the wall.

All the while, Billy himself relaxed against his fresh pillow, content in watching his girl get ready for bed. It wasn't long, though, her quick routine over before he knew it. She crawled to him, shuffling herself under the new comforter she helped him put on while she got comfortable.

She's only ever stayed over to help him study. It was only for a few hours too. Never did she stay over at his place. He would either make up some excuse or just flat out say no.

She always wondered why, but whenever she tried to pry, he was standoffish, defensive even. She had suspected it had something to do with his parents, but she wasn't sure. Tonight wasn't the night for that, though. She could ask questions another time.

Tonight was the time to bask in new beginnings, Isabela proudly snuggling up to her exhausted boyfriend. Her hand over his chest while his hand reached over to hold that very hand.

"Sorry I kept you up so late," Isabela soft whispered, her eyes slowly closing a she let the fatigue of the night finally hit her. Billy himself was way ahead of her, pullling her even closer before answering.

Tag List:

"Shut up, you know I loved every second of it," Her answered without really thinking, due to his exhaustion. Even with that, she knew he meant it, smiling into the pillow harder as they both drifted to sleep, their relationship shifting as night did with the day.

.♡ ♡ ♡.

.

.

.

Thank you so much for reading, if yoy made it all the way through! It was difficult to finish this, and it probably came out a bit rushed but I hope you like it! From now on I'll be giving y'all fics like I do my art, in pieces! Thanks for being patient and thank you for enjoy my content! I can't wait to give you more of these two and the others! Yall have a good day and I'll see you later!♡ ENJOYYY

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @buckysgrace @unamused-boss @gri959 @periwinkle-quill

[bunabi]

Sabine update: her results are back and she's negative for serious upper respiratory illnesses. She has a higher than average bacteria count that we're gonna try and solve with antibiotics. 🥲

[amethystina]

"Han fattas mig."

One of the compliments I often get on my writing is just that — my writing. My word choices, my sentence structure, my imagery, my rhythm, my originality, etc. Now, I never thought I'd reach a point where I’d become that good at the craft itself, especially not in a language that's not even my native tongue. Partly because of imposter syndrome but also because I'm usually such a perfectionist that I never thought I’d dare to write something that doesn't strictly and stiltedly follow the rules.

Sentence fragments? Words used in unusual contexts? Odd or highly specific imagery? No can do!

Except, clearly, I can. I should, even.

And I want to share one of the monumental pieces of writing that made me realise that. And it’s not even a whole work. It's just one sentence, really:

"Han fattas mig."

Now, that probably looks a bit weird to those of you who don't understand Swedish, so let me explain.

That's a quote from the children's book Ronja the Robber's Daughter written by the famous Swedish author Astrid Lindgren. It was published back in 1981 and while I didn't actually read the book as a kid, I DID watch the Swedish live-action movie many times. But, even then, it took until my adult years to fully grasp the utter and heart-breaking brilliance of that quote.

For some context, the book/movie is about Ronja who, surprise surprise, is the young daughter of a robber chief. That quote is said by her father, Mattis, when one of the old robbers of their clan suddenly dies. Now, this old robber, Skalle-Per (uh... I guess the translation would be Bald Pete?), is clearly a father figure for Mattis. A wise old man who, while gloriously snarky, is also incredibly nurturing and emotionally mature. Which stands in stark contrast to Mattis who is the somewhat traditionally dominant, macho man. He HAS to be, on account of being the chief for a clan of rough and tough robbers. They, in many ways, complete each other, where Skalle-Per is kind, thoughtful, and sensible while Mattis is brash, violent, and impulsive.

Now, predictably, when Skalle-Per dies, Mattis throws a full-on tantrum. The kind that shows just how inexperienced he is with dealing with emotions without Skalle-Per to help him work through them. And, since the whole problem is that Skalle-Per is now dead? Mattis has absolutely no idea what to do.

He starts pacing back and forth, crying, flailing his arms, and yelling things like: "He's always been here! He's always existed, and now he doesn't!" And no amount of calming words from his wife soothes him and, eventually, he says that line:

"Han fattas mig."

And there is no direct translation I can give you that fully conveys the amount of raw, almost childlike, grief in that one sentence. This sentence was the one that made me realise that following the rules doesn't matter because, strictly speaking, this one doesn't. The words used are unusual to the point where they're even a little odd at first glance but, once you look deeper, also so incredibly impactful.

The rough translation would probably be "I miss him" but, as said, that doesn't convey the sheer desperation that those words do in Swedish. First of all, it throws the words around, completely changing the focus and weight of the sentence. "Han" is "he" and "mig" is "I." So saying "I miss him" reverses the order where the emphasis SHOULD be put on "him" but the main subject of the sentence now becomes "I" (i.e. less about the loss and more about how "I" am feeling). In “Han fattas mig” the “he” is the most important part.

Second, you have the word "fattas" which, yes, directly translated means "missing." But not the kind of missing that we Swedes normally use for grief. We have another word for that called "saknar." If you miss someone who has died, you'd say: "Jag saknar honom." Which is basically the same as the English “I miss him.” The word "fattas" is for a completely different context — a much more mundane one, with almost no emotional stakes. It's what we use when a piece is missing or something is lacking a required component. Kind of like you would say: "This stew is missing something" when it doesn't taste the way you want it to. But it can also mean "lost" as in "there's one puzzle piece missing."

So when Mattis says those words, he doesn't say "I miss him." He's saying: "He is a part of me and he is now missing," and "he is a part of me and I lost him," and "he is a part of me and now there is a hole where he used to be."

He is saying: "I will never be complete again."

Because "fattas" is also the word we use when something is missing and the thing won't be complete until you add it/return it/get it back. And, in this case, since the man in question is dead, you know Mattis will never get that chance. He will never be whole again. Which, sure, is a rather terrifying take on grief, but also not an untrue one. Grief will lessen over time, but the loss will still be there.

And this isn't me doing some sort of complex linguistic analysis — I don't have to. Because it's all there. It's so simple yet so effective. And yet, somehow, no one had really thought to use the word "fattas" to describe grief before. Because it's just a simple and mundane word we use for entirely different things, not big, painful emotions, right? Except Astrid Lindgren did. And while she no doubt did so to make it easier for children to grasp the concept — since most kids can relate to the feeling of losing something in the context of "fattas," which is much more direct and real than the elusive emotion of "saknar" — it also changes how an adult can view grief and loss.

Not even "I lost him" can fully encompass the absolute BRUTALITY of the grief found in the sentence "Han fattas mig."

And that is why I give fewer and fewer fucks about the rules. Now, obviously, I doubt I'll ever come up with something as brilliant as this sentence (it honestly rocks me to my core sometimes) BUT it's worth trying. It's worth being creative and experiment with the words you know and in what order you place them. Just maybe, you'll end up with something really cool. That's not to say you should ignore any and all rules, but it's okay to play around. It's okay to do the unexpected.

I think it's important to remember that. Writing is creative. We write to express things — to find ways to describe and explain complex emotions, grand adventures, and sweeping love stories. It connect us and gives us a way to share our experiences, thoughts, and feelings. And, sometimes, the set boundaries won't be enough. Sometimes, we might just need someone to look at how we describe grief and go: "I can make it simpler and, at the same time, so much more painful."

And it doesn't always have to be complex. It doesn't have to be difficult words and purple prose. Sometimes, all you need is three words so easy that a child can understand them and, somehow, you will describe a sense of loss so deep and so fundamental to that character that you KNOW that they will never be the same ever again.

So experiment. Be bold. And, above all else, have fun.

And, one final heart-wrenching fact to wrap this all up: The actor who played Skalle-Per — Allan Edwall — was in almost ALL of the movies/shows based on Astrid Lindgren's books. He played different roles, of course, but he was a staple — synonymous with her works. And, when the actor died back in 1997, Astrid Lindgren was asked how she was handling the loss and her reply was the same as Mattis’s:

"Han fattas mig."

[shepards-folly]

DEATH OF THE EGO

[puppetstringed]

[bragganhyl]

on the note of something i recently rambled about

[fortune-maiden]

Maybe it’s the high of finishing a fic for an exchange with a whole week left to edit

but I kind of want to join another exchange ;w;

[ravenwolfie97]

random reminder that not all nonbinary people are transgender

[lionofstone]

it's so embarrassing to promote my writing like here, have a piece of my heart broken down into a few eye-catching phrases. here's a list of tropes lol so cringe. this is my soul laid out in front of you. please buy it on amazon

[pikslasrce]

me to my therapist on our first appointment: i am a very anxious person. very passive. i avoid initiating anything and also i dont leave the house

me literally the same week: asked a girl out on a date. traveled all alone to another city to meet up w mewties. saw that theres going to be a wwdits movie screening in some cafe plans to go. saw there will be a florence ethel cain marina lana del rey fiona apple etc party plans to go. in general started taking silly little initatives

[horizonandstar]

ohhh writing in sun or moons pov is going to be A Trip

[readingwriter92]

Not me scrolling whump blogs constantly bc I’m desperate for a new brainrot show with whump

[skylordhorus]

me watching ppl argue over whether ssris are dangerous/useless whilst im sitting here w my sertraline that ive been taking for 5+ years:

[maraeffect]

trying really really hard not to freak out but um. both my tumors grew despite being on chemotherapy (::::