#my brain says 'arf arf'. stop barking

[boycannibal]

one rapper i like just posted a gym selfie on his story and jesus christ he wasnt lying when he said that some girl called him a dilf

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Stef, my dear. I come to you bearing thots ❤️

I saw this: "keep talking shit and i'll show you the other things i can do with that mouth of yours."

And thought: Who'd I wanna talk to me like that? Frank, that's who 🫠🔥

Sorry this took so long but I finally have something!

|| If Found... ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: soft Dom Frank with Sub puppy reader, wearing a collar, pet names, use of 'daddy', fingering, little bit of humiliation, oral sex (both male and female receiving), vaginal sex, aftercare.

A/n: arf arf woof bark bark. If I've tagged you and it's not your thing please ignore 😉

Since Frank had been helping Billy get Anvil up and running, all his time had been taken up with it. And all your time with him too for that matter. He was late home more often than not and although he kept promising to make it up to you, you were getting pissed off at being neglected. He was doing it for the benefit of both of you and you knew and appreciated that, but it didn't stop you from feeling jealous that his precious time wasn't being spent with you and only you. So when he arrives home so late again, you take it out on him.

"Hey honey, sorry m'late. You had a good day?"

"Like you actually give a shit." You grumble, turning and pulling away from him as he goes to give you a kiss.

"Huh, it's like that is it? You pissed at me for something?"

"Oh, you think?"

"Hey, c'mon baby, talk to me, tell me what's going on." He tries again, he never wants to be the reason that you're upset.

"Fuck off. You know exactly what it is." You snap back at him. You're far too annoyed to make an effort to articulate your feelings in a civil, adult way. It's a situation that could easily be resolved but there's a part of you that doesn't want that, you need to rage at him.

"Asshole." You hiss, pushing past him as he reaches for you.

He quickly loses patience. "Keep talking shit and I'll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours."

"Whatever. Dinner's in the dog."

Frank scoffs. "Oh yeah? Funny, cos I don't remember havin' one."

You huff, folding your arms. "Might as well be me, seeing as you treat me like one, expecting me to be happy with scraps."

"Alright." Frank thinks for a second, then he scrubs his hand over his face and shakes his head. "Get your collar." He says quietly.

You can't move, those three words flip a primal switch hidden deep within your brain.

His voice rises. "Don't make me ask again.

You hurry to the bedroom and retrieve the dainty black leather collar from your underwear drawer, clutching it in your hands as you re-enter the living room. He's sitting down on the couch now, legs spread wide.

"You know what to do."

You hold the collar between your teeth and sink down to your knees. Frank beckons you to him with a crooked finger. "Come on puppy, c'mere."

You slowly crawl on all fours to him, sitting in the space between his boots looking down at the floor. You can feel his eyes on you as you wait. He takes the collar from you and you can't help making a desperate noise as he sweeps your hair out of the way to fasten it snugly around your neck, giving it a short tug.

"Whiny little puppy just needs some attention, is that it, sweetheart?

Your eyes are wide and wet as he takes hold of your chin making you look up at him. "Hm, yeah. A little less of the attitude and I'll give you what you want, huh?"

You nod slowly, you want him to scratch that submissive itch you've been craving for so badly for weeks.

"Stand up, let's take this off." He tugs at the edge of your top and you obey, lifting your arms allowing him to peel it off. He unhooks your bra, skimming his hands around your ribs to cup your breasts and you lean into his touch but he doesn't linger, trailing his fingers down to the top of your jeans unbuttoning them and yanking them down helping you lift your legs out of them.

He tugs at the waistband of your panties. "If I take these off, are you gonna promise not to make a mess?"

You whimper and nod, but you don't care, you just want him to touch you now.

He pulls them down your legs slowly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours when he notices how the crotch sticks to your cunt with how damp they are.

"Alright, get in your spot, c'mon." He commands, helping you up onto his lap. You're completely naked with your back laying on his clothed chest and your legs hooked over either side of his. Exposed.

You're so sensitive you can't keep from wriggling against him, arching as soon as he trails his fingers along the soft skin of your inner thigh to touch you, trying to clamp your thighs together around his hand but he stops you, forcing your legs apart again, and bringing wetness up from your core to draw light little circles with his fingertips around your clit.

"There you go. That's what you need ain't it?"

You're entirely at his mercy, his other arm wrapped firm around under your chest with his teasing fingers tugging at your nipples. His warm lips drag up the side of your neck and over your collar and you moan.

"Aw, you gonna yap for me, little puppy? Huh?" He increases the speed of his fingers and you feel the pressure inside you building fast, you're so embarrassingly close, just a little more and you'll-

"Ohh, oh Frankie I'm gonna-"

He stops.

"No, no please!" You choke and cry as he takes his hand away leaving your orgasm just out of reach.

"That's it, c'mon and beg for me baby, you know how I love when you do. Now what d'ya say?"

He holds you firmly as you buck against him, the fact that you can feel him hard under your ass just makes it even more frustrating.

"Please, please daddy… I'll be so good!" You whine, and he chuckles warmly into your skin bringing his fingers back where you so desperately need them.

"Yeah, can't deny my fuckin' sweet girl." He whispers low, right next to your ear and you shudder and gasp as you feel the tendrils of pleasure wrapping around the base of your spine as he touches you.

"Aw, you gonna come baby, all for me?"

He chuckles and mocks your pathetic little moans and noises, it's humiliating and you hate that it turns you on even more. Your promise to him rings through your head as it hits you but it's too late. You can't do anything to stop the floodgates from bursting open as he takes you right over the precipice, soaking his lap right through his jeans to his boxers as you come so hard, writhing and whimpering in his grasp.

Frank scoots you to the side as he looks down at the damp patch. "Oh my baby girl... can't even follow a simple order." He tuts and your face flushes with embarrassed heat as you breathe heavily through the aftershocks, twitching.

"M'sorry." Your voice comes out small and shaky.

He pulls off his shirt and then the heavy clink of his belt buckle being undone suddenly relieves you of any sense. All you want is to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue and his come down your throat.

"That's alright cos you're gonna clean up your mess ain't ya?" It's not a question. He shucks his jeans and boxers down just far enough for his thick cock to spring up, smacking against his abs. You slide onto the floor between his legs, dumb with desire, taking hold of the base as you eagerly slide your lips around him.

"Yeah, there you go sweetheart, attagirl." He watches you take him in, circling your fingers around what you can't fit. You're drooling down his cock as you suck and lick like a good pup, and Frank's making the most gorgeous sounds of encouragement for you. When he grunts and twitches against your tongue as you swirl it around the underside of his head, you know he's close. His fingers run over your shoulders and pull up your neck, hooking under the collar and pushing you down on him just enough that you start to gag a little, but no more.

"Fuck! Mmm fuck yeah… just keep doin' that princess, just keep doin' it like that…"

You put yourself to task, arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs again as Frank's hips lift up, fucking himself into your throat. All you want is to make him happy now he's here, you want to take back everything you said and the way you were acting like a brat because you know that Frank will always take care of you exactly the way you need him to. He understands and you love him for it.

He grunts low again, moaning as your fingers caress his balls. His thick fingers weave through and tighten their grip in your hair, the air leaving his lungs in short sharp bursts as his hips jerk and he spills down your throat. You swallow greedily, milking his cock with your fist until you've lapped up every drop he can give you.

"I love you." He's grinning and laughing, his head falling slack to rest on the back of the couch. "Such a fucking good girl. God damn I fucking love you baby, you know that?"

You wipe the spit off your mouth with the back of your hand and smile up at him from your sore knees. "Thank you daddy, love you too."

Frank sheds his pants and helps you up, scooping his hands under your ass and lifting you up. You curl your arms around his neck and wrap your legs around his waist and he kisses you deeply tasting himself on your tongue as he carries you into your bedroom and throws you down on the bed.

"M'not finished with you yet." He says, and you mewl as he positions you on all fours, nudging your legs apart with his knee, settling down behind you and letting his gaze roam over your bare, wet pussy. He gently slides a finger between your folds, watching how you squirm and shy away, you've got some nerve he'll give you that.

"Shh, stay still for me, let me take care of you." You yelp as he buries his face between your legs and you pitch forward into the pillows, your moans muffled into them as he licks you right up the middle. Frank takes eating you out very seriously. He's on you until you're wailing, his nose prodding at your entrance as he tongues your clit until he's hard again, and then he teases you with the tip of his dick until you're begging again, sobbing for him to fuck you.

"Okay, okay…"

You sigh happily when he slides a finger inside you. "Christ, you're still so tight sweetheart, gonna take it slow."

He covers you, drapes himself over your body like a claim, featherlight kisses on your shoulder reminding you that he's yours too. And then you feel the immaculate burn when he grips onto your hips, lining up and slowly sheathing himself inside your needy cunt. His big, strong hands massage over your lower back trying to relax you as he pushes in the rest of the way. It's so much. He's stretching you open but making sure you're comfortable as you can be before he starts to move, and when he does your vision nearly whites out.

He fucks you like this, with your head down and your ass up in the air until you're clawing at the sheets around you and then he yanks you up by your collar, wrapping his arms around your middle, sliding his hand between your legs and zeroing in on your swollen bud of nerves.

"D-daddy- ah, uh!!"

"C'mon baby, you wanna come on my cock don't ya?"

You whine at the intensity of stimulation you're receiving, it's almost so much that you're numb. It's all you can do to dumbly nod your head, whimpers spilling from your bitten lips. On every thrust he punches so deep inside you, his skin smacking against your ass. He talks to you the whole time, playing with your clit. He doesn't mind that you're struggling to answer back, you're only able to whine as you can feel another orgasm sparking up within you fast.

"I know you want your little pussy filled, but you ain't gotta worry darlin', gonna make you feel so damn good…"

His other hand wanders up to the base of your throat, and the rough tips of his fingers stroke the edge of the collar as he applies just a touch of pressure around your neck. It's all it takes for you to start pulsing around his thrusting cock and you moan as you come together. Frank shudders behind you, holding on to you tightly, praising you constantly and reminding you that you're his good girl as he fills you with his spend.

"Goddamn, you're amazing. You okay?"

You nod, your tired body sagging back against him. He stays inside you for a little while, just holding you and kissing the side of your neck and face as he waits for you to calm down. He's so gentle with you when he pulls out, and he goes to get a washcloth to clean you up.

When that's all done you curl up with him, head resting on his chest with his hand stroking up and down your arm soothingly.

"I'm sorry I've been away from you so much, I shoulda realised sooner and there ain't any excuse. But you don't need'ta play games with me, if you need somethin' you just ask, just let me know okay?"

"I know. I'm sorry too… thank you Frankie, you always know what to do." You respond, and he kisses your forehead.

"I'll do anythin' for you sweet girl. You want me to take your collar off?"

You hum, your eyelids feel so heavy and you let them close. "Can you leave it on, please?"

Frank smiles, his fingers stroking your hair as he's kissing you softly. "You want to sleep in it, pup?"

You yawn and stretch, snuggling up to Frank's warmth. "Mmhm."

"Alright baby girl, sweet dreams."

Tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @officialjanetsnakehole @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re

[poppy-metal]

eren would def be the type to sleep in low hanging boxers or sweats and nothing else that expose his cum gutters - v line - hbshngh i'm thinking Many Thoughts about the huge tattoos that'd be peeking out from his waistband and curling up his toned back... and eren with a bellybutton piercing.. and him holding a blunt between his lips with his pretty chipped-black-nailpolish fingers... band!eren has RUINED my brain !!! sorry about the long ask but i just can't stop thinking about him pushing up his sleeves to expose his tattoos,,,, and holding a hairtie between his teeth while he's tying up his hair :((

now HOLD UP. hold on. let's disect everything u just said bc im USHEIDNDKDMD

The low hanging sweats and boxers, please i am gonna bust. he is the reigning grey sweatpants king ❗❗ and you already know what m gonna say don't you. I'll say it anyway. Calvin Klein boxers, a hint of the band of the logo peaking out of his sweats all the time. Hanging low enough on his hips to see that V line dip down, there's a just the slightest dusting of hair too, a happy trail, and sometimes when those sweats are hanging dangerously and i mean DANGEROUSLY low, the slightest hint of his bush can be seen peeking out of those boxers. He's a menace.

EREN WITH A BELLYBUTTON RING AND TATTOOS ARF ARF. please its so tacky, fucking metal barb with either a blue or green gem dangling just slightly. You catch it glinting when he comes out of the shower, with just a low hanging towel AGAIN w the happy trail just below it. Your eyes are always drawn to it, it excutatating his whole stomach and lower pelvis. When he's lounging by the pool and the sun is beating down on him the metal is a blinding light, and the gem is the prettiest blue. When he actually does wear a shirt and he's doing the stretch thing that exposes his tan tummy and you catch a glimpse of it- im frothing. Imagining running your tongue over it as you trail down- anyway

His tattoos!! okay im jus gonna hc this as drummer! or grunge eren bc aidnsjsjs he's a little artist okay. (A play on canon) he's always had these cool concepts of giant monsters he's been doodling as a kid. They're even on a few of his band covers and all of them are personal hand drawn designs. They go up both his arms and down his back.

HIM W BLACK CHIPPED NAILS!!! his hands are always beat up, he's a troublmaker so he's ALWAYS in fights, and his knuckles are always busted up, not to mention the rough callouses from always welding his drumbsticks. Also always has black chalk n ink smudged on his hands from sketching new designs. Just his pretty hands, his nail polish is never fully covering his nails, its always chipped. Rolls blunts a little too expertly. Bites them unfairly seductively between his lips to take a hit too

HIM ROLLING UP HIS SLEEVES BARK BARK. He has a HABIT of holding things between his teeth, (my oral fixation is going crazy rn) between his teeth when he's putting up his hair in a messy bun. Chews on his straws from his slushies (hes a 711 slushie fanatic), capri suns, ext. For minutes before he trashes them. Bites on the end of his eraser and pencils. Chews on his nails absent-mindedly. Just. Ugh.

[soundsfunbutno]

Janna Ordonia x reader

Britta’s Tacos 11:00 p.m.

I walked into the kitchen of Britta’s Tacos, just as Oscar was about to leave.

“Oh hi (Y/N)! You about to clock in?”

“Yes, I am. Better get to work, look at all these customers! They’re all waiting for a taco, an hour before midnight.” I said sarcastically, pointing at the nonexistent line of customers at the ordering window.

Oscar laughed while taking off his apron and grabbing his backpack, heading for the back door.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, see ya tomorrow (Y/N)!

“See ya!” I let out a sigh just as he closed the door, why do I have to work the late shift? I wouldn’t be sleeping at this hour anyways, I’d just be endlessly scrolling through Tumblr, but stil!

Running on pure monster energy drink and three hours of sleep, I put on my apron and hat, and walked over to the ordering window to wait for any customers to show up. About a month ago, the owner decided that Britta’s Tacos was going to become a twenty four hours restaurant. And of course I was the one who got assigned the 11 p.m.-7 a.m. shift.

I mean, it’s not that bad. I get some time away from my shitty family and the manager isn’t even here so I pretty much get to do whatever I want. This led to me making a TikTok account dedicated to showing what it’s like to work the night shift at Britta’s Tacos. Of course not all of my videos are about Britta’s Tacos, but about eighty percent of my TikToks are recorded here.

In my first month of working the night shift, I’ve met some interesting people. There was the trucker who had been broke so many times he didn’t know what to believe, the boy toy named troy who used to live in Detroit and many more. But none of them caught my eye like the girl that just sat down at that table just did.

There seemed to be this wave of I don’t give a fuck radiating off of her. And that was way more attractive to me than it should be. I noticed I had been staring when she dropped a heavy book onto the metal table which caused a loud noise to resonate through the courtyard and wake me up from my daydream.

She continued to place more books, sketchbooks and occult looking items such as animal skulls onto the table. And the whole time I was watching her the only thing going through my head was “Fuck, my gay is showing.”

As she stood up and made her way to the order window, I quickly turned off my work voice that I had to use with adult customers and switched to my regular voice.

“Hi, welcome to Britta’s Tacos. What can I get ya?”

“Just a uhm burrito and a large cherry coke please.”

OH MY GOD SHES’S NICE TO RESTAURANT STAFF ARF ARF BARK BARK.

Looks like I’m gay panicking again, okay lemme snap out of it.

“Alright I’ll be back with your order in just a moment.” I went to the kitchen and started off by toasting the tortilla for five seconds on each side. While putting the organs inside the tortilla skin I let my mind wander to that girl again.

I have to stop doing this, I catch feels way to quickly and it’s not even funny, it’s just sad. But I can’t help it.

“Well, I guess it’s time to not shoot my shot and regret it for the rest of my life.” I thought as I wrapped the burrito and poured the cherry coke into a cup. Bagging the order and putting it on a tray, I made my way back to the order number where the girl goddess was on the phone with someone.

“Yes Star, I’m sure it’s her. Now hurry over here before I break into your house and kidnap you.”

She hung up on her friend and turned towards me.

“Sorry for that, how much do I owe you?”

“That would be A dollar and eighteen cents.”

She handed me the money and just when I thought I’d never see her again and I’d never have a chance with her.

It happened.

Her phone rang.

And what was her ringtone?

Dead girl in the pool by girl in red.

Time to shoot that shot like they shot Harambe

“Ugh Tom stop calling me.” She mumbled under her breath as she declined the call.

My brain was fucking zooming as I tried to think of a conversation topic.

Then all of the sudden someone fucking tackled her.

I leaned over the counter and saw a girl with long blonde hair. I immediately recognized her voice as she loudly shrieked out. “JANNA BANANA”

“Ugh, Star get off!”

Okay so now I know her name is Janna. That’s progress, right?

But that’s besides the point. I know that bouncy ball! She’s my favorite TikTok mutual!

“Starship420?”

She turned her head towards me and her eyes seemed to light up as she recognized me.

“(Y/N)’s Tacos?”

I jumped over the counter and laughed in glee.

“Oh my god star! I had no Idea you lived in Echo Creek!”

“I didn’t know you lived here either!”

The girl who I now knew was named Janna walked over to her table with her food and started reading through one of her books.

“Yeah this is great! So uhm, can I get you anything?”

She held her chin as she thought about her order.

“You saw my sugarrito video?”

My expression suddenly went dead serious as I nodded to her and climbed back over the counter and headed towards the kitchen.

I continued to assemble a normal burrito but then dumped on five heaping tablespoons of sugar. I filled up a medium cup with mountain dew, bagged it up and brought it to the ordering window.

“Alright that’s a dollar and eighteen cents.”

Star grabbed a big stash of money from a wallet that didn’t look like it belonged to her and handed a five dollar bill to me.

“Thank you, and here’s your change.”

She grabbed her change and then proceeded to hurl it past my head into the kitchen.

“Keep the change.”

“I- okay thanks.”

Star took the tray from my hands and made her way towards Janna.

As I was picking up the change that Star decided to yeet into the kitchen I realized that me and Janna had one thing in common that could cause us to become friends.

We were both friends with Star.

Star had the ability to magically create new friendships. Because of star I met Ponyhead, Marco, Kelly and many more people.

I once again hopped over the counter and joined the two girls at their table, where Star was excitedly telling Janna about the science of the sugarrito while Janna was drawing different glyphs on a sheet of paper and mindlessly nodding to make it look like she was listening.

I bravely took a seat next to Janna.

“Watcha drawing?

Janna jumped and looked at me.

“Uhm yeah, ha you startled me. I’m trying to draw light glyphs.”

I looked at her drawings and realized I recognized them.

“Oh like from The Owl House?”

Okay (Y/N), this is your time. If she says she likes the show, mention Lumity and look at her reaction.

“Yes! You watch that show? I started watching after I found out Lumity is canon.”

OKAY THIS IS GOING GREAT SHE LIKES LUMITY

I let out a soft laugh and smiled at her. “I started crying during the dance scene!”

We both burst out laughing, as we were both attempting to catch our breath we subconsciously scooted closer to each other.

Both of us seemed to have forgotten that Star was there too but she was too busy to notice, aggressively texting someone.

She stood up and grabbed her unfinished drink. “Sorry guys, Marco’s REALLY upset that I stole his wallet again. He wants me to come home to return it. I’ll see you guys, maybe we can arrange a meetup tomorrow.”

She grabbed her wand out of nowhere and took a deep breath before yelling “SUMMONING CLOUDY CHARM”.

A fucking cloud that looked like it just consumed some psychedelics appeared out of thin air, Star hopped onto the cloud and flew away.

“Does she do that often?”

“Yeah, you should be seeing a lot of that when hanging out with her.”

Janna and I talked for what seemed like hours and hours. We both chugged the monster energy cans from my backpack and she tought me about the topics in her books.

She seemed to light up as she ranted about hexes and spells. And by the time the sun rose, I knew more about the paranormal then I thought was possible.

“My manager is coming in an hour, I should probably get everything set up to make it look like I was working all night, I’m not really looking to get fired.”

Janna stretched and began packing up all of her stuff. “So you wanna meet up again some time?”

I stood up placed a hand next to her on the table, leaning to the side.

Okay time for twenty seconds of bravery.

“Sure, when you got time?” I said to her, smirking.

She looked up at me, the tiniest blush forming on her face “Uhm, maybe we can meet up here on Thursday and we can watch a movie at my place? Maybe get some snacks from 7 eleven.

I pushed myself off of the table.

Sure, it’s a date.

I walked back to the restaurant, silently celebrating my succes.

Britta’s Tacos, 07:a.m.

I had just finished all of my tasks and was waiting for the manager to show up to dismiss me.

As Dana walked in she greeted me and looked at me questioningly.

“Girl you just finished an eight hour shift, what’s got you so happy?”

“Nothing”

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 22)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

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

The Doctor's aroused suspicions are even further confirmed when he finds his ragdoll chipper about absolutely everything he gives her. Whether it'd be scrubbing the tower's toilet or sweeping the bedrooms, Sally is very willing to do anything he says. And from the few times he watches her, secretly from the side, he finds her smiling and humming...at one point, he even found her singing! Something certainly has her attention, and it gnaws at his brain that he doesn't know what it is. He is very certain it is something from outside - something she drugged him for to see, or something to do.... Now he is sending her off to do some homework, all of which seems to be have been completed these past few days. He had the hardest of times getting any actual work from her before, but now everything seems to be completed on time, and very accurately...everything about this situation keeps him on his toes, and as he looks at Sally up-and-down while she stands in front of the ramps, waiting for his final word to release her into her room, where he wouldn't see her figure for hours beyond her room's door....Finklestein actually hesitates. Wonders to himself if he should ask, to pry, to demand this information out of her -- so he could know what has finally made her happy, after trying all this time, to have her content at home... "Doctor?" She asks. He is drawn from his thoughts as her voice curiously interrupts him. "Can I go, now?" "What? Oh, yes. Yes, you may leave, now." Her figure starts to leave and he taps the armrest of his wheelchair in thought. "-Sally?" She stops and turns around. "Yes?" "I'd like to have a talk with you tonight. In my Laboratory. Just you and me." "....Okay, Doctor." She doesn't sound pleased nor interested. In fact, he finds her speeding up the ramps so he can't stop her again. And that is exactly Sally's intention, as she rushes into her room and shuts the door behind her tightly. She feels the weight pressing against her back lift the moment she's in the solitude of her own confinement, and releases the breath she'd been holding in. She had been breathing through her teeth...as she always does around the Doctor. But when she sits in her chair and looks at the mansion far across the tower, it's as if she's breathing fresh air. She turns to open her textbook and begins working through math problems, tapping her finger against her leg and humming while she works diligently. She progresses through the problems at a good rate, and stops to take a break. She wishes she could be answering questions about Halloween. Questions about the outside world, of her friends, or the man she loves...Sally sighs as she stands from her chair and stares out of the window. Her eyes lock on the only interesting thing outside at that moment, at the study where he's usually in. She tries to picture Jack in there at this moment - looking through his own window, and staring at her own figure. Her body longs for him again, and her phantom heart aches knowing how far they're separated. She walks over to her bed and rests her head in her hand, daydreaming of this better world. She sits there until a noise interrupts her thoughts. It's the sound of a dog barking -- somewhere near the tower. Jumping up, she heads towards her window and looks outside to see. She recognizes that sound anywhere - the bark of her good friend, Zero! But where can he be? She doesn't see him anywhere. As Sally shifts her gaze around, she hears the barking getting louder. "Ruff!" "AH!" The ragdoll jumps in surprise when the sound of yapping erupts from beside her. She quickly turns her head and finds Zero in her room, looking up at her with attentive little eye sockets. She places a hand on her chest as she tries to get her breath back, calming her nerves as she squeezes her eyes shut. It's only Zero... She assures herself. It's your good friend, Zero...it's Jack's dog....Jack... "Arf!" "Shhh! Zero! Dr. Finklestein will know you're here..." She goes down on her knees to look at him better. Once she's close enough, she sees that an envelope is tucked in his mouth. "-Huh?" The ghost dog nudges his snoot closer to her face. She realizes what he's doing and takes it from his mouth, turning it over in her hands. In neat writing, from the man she loves and has thought about endlessly for these past couple of days, reads: TO SALLY. Her leaves do several flips inside her body as she opens it with eager hands, and finds a folded sheet of paper inside. As she unfolds it, she finds the same writing inside, written largely and legibly so she could read. Meet me in the pumpkin patch. -Your secret admirer

Sally giggles as she holds the note close to her chest. An invitation...from Jack again! She can't wait to meet him there, to see him once more, to speak with him again....she wonders what this is about, but it matters very little to her. All she wants is more time with the skeleton man she loves, and she knows for certain that this is from him. She looks up from the paper and pets Zero on the head, giving him very good pats for delivering this message to her. "Thank you, Zero! Who's a good boy?" He pants excitedly as she runs her hand along his ghostly form. He gives her one final yap, to which she tells him to keep quiet. He then disappears through her window and flies back to his master's home. Sally watches as the dog's form disappears, then grins brightly at the note held in her hand. She should be leaving soon - she can't have Jack waiting too long! Quickly, she skips over to her closet and goes through some of her completed dresses, wondering which to wear for this occasion. She goes with one of her newer ones, a simple green dress. She likes the trim, and ensures it fits snugly on her figure as she twirls around in her mirror. As she opens her window and gets ready to jump out, she suddenly remembers the Doctor's request. To meet with her that night in his laboratory -- will she be back before then? He'll truly be upset with her this time if she doesn't make it before sundown, but...oh, she just has to go! She'll have to be very aware of her time outside. She did make a promise to him, and as unfair as she's been treating him lately...he deserves a little of her attention. But Sally's going to make sure Jack has the majority of it, as she throws herself out the window with nothing more but the intention of seeing him again. -------------------------- She rushes past the Graveyard gates looking in every direction, trying to spot Jack's skull right off the bat. He isn't on the Spiral Hill nor is he anywhere near the entrance, so Sally continues looking by following the implanted trail and skimming through the graves. At the end of the trail, she'll soon find, is where he is - situated on a tall piece of stone, resting one leg on the other and twirling a black rose in his left hand. When he hears the crunching of leaves, he turns on the tombstone and finds Sally approaching him, modestly brushing her hair behind her shoulders and clasping her hands down at her waistline. He notes her dress right away, taking a moment to admire her in the new attire. "Why, Sally! You look beautiful." He compliments. He helps himself off the grave and offers her the rose in his hand. "-This is for you." She takes it and admires it. "It's very lovely. Thank you." "A lovely rose for a lovely lady. I thought of you the moment I saw it." Her cheeks grow hotter as she looks back at the flower in her hand. She gets an idea and pretends she's searching around, coyly eying Jack from the corner of her eye. "My secret admirer said he'd meet me here...do you know where he is?" "Hmm. Quite the question." The skeleton places a finger on his lip. "Would he happen to be the King of Halloween? The demon of light? The master of fright?" He moves until he's back in her peripheral vision. "...Or would he happen to be the one standing in front of you right now?" She smiles coquettishly. "I don't know. Is he?" He closes his eye sockets and grins. "Did my little messenger send you the letter? I had him send it to you on the account that it was a last-minute invitation. I would've delivered it personally, but, well, I was already here..." "Zero did bring it to me. I slipped out without the Doctor even noticing." She states proudly before her face changes. "-Why did you invite me out here, Jack?" He comes forward to hold her hands, squeezing them excitedly as he asks, "Sally, would you like to go on another date with me?" Is the sky orange? She wonders, and nods right away. "Well, of course! But when-" "-Right now." His grip tightens. "Today is when everyone begins carving pumpkins, and I was just wondering if you wanted to join me? Traditionally, I'm always there for the first day, but...I just don't think I'll enjoy it without you there." "I'd love to, but..." She knits her eyebrows together. "I've never carved one before. I wouldn't know where to begin-"" "I can teach you! It all works out perfectly." His grin is so cute, she has a hard time keeping her eyes off of it. "What do you say?" What else can she say to the Pumpkin King's invitation of a date? She nods firmly, allowing him to take her hand and lead her out of the Graveyard. He seems excited as he pulls her along on the way into town, occasionally glancing back at her just to give her an excited smile. She can tell he's looking forward to this date - and she most certainly is as well. She can't imagine a better afternoon than one with Jack. And now they're going to do something together...something that involves Halloween. Something she'd never done and he is going to teach her - something she is sure to be wonderful, because everything is whenever she's with him. ----------------------------------------------- They both arrive in the plaza at the heart of the celebration, where the long table running through the square is filled with residents and pumpkins. Sally can make out only a few available spaces as her and Jack pass by. She can hear everyone calling out to him, and listens as he greets them back. She notices the puzzled looks from the few who realize the ragdoll is with him, as well as the shocked looks from some of his admirers. It causes Sally to hold her head up high and grin with confidence, her heart doing several imaginative flips at the fact that he is with her and no one else. "Would you like a small pumpkin or a bigger one?" She notices he is reaching into the crate filled with them, and replies politely, "A smaller one, please." His skull nods as he leans down further. Then he shows her a quaint pumpkin, perfectly her size. She takes it from him and finds it light to carry. Then she watches as Jack takes a much bigger one. One she'd assume he'd have trouble carrying, but he acts as if it's the lightest thing in the world. He stands up straight and glances around, presumably searching for a spot they can sit down at. This is confirmed when he motions in a direction with his skull. "Let's sit at that table in the corner, shall we?" She follows his direction and finds a table near the walls. It's purposely separated from the long one where everyone else is at. They both arrive and Sally gently places her pumpkin down, taking a seat on the bench closest to her while flattening down her dress. Jack follows suit - carefully bringing his own pumpkin down and sitting right beside her. They're close enough that their knees are touching underneath the table, and Sally is very thankful that this is concealed by the blood-colored tablecloth. "It feels like it's been ages since I've carved one of these," He confesses. He sets down some tools, including a big spoon, a couple of knives, and a few other instruments she doesn't recognize. "-I know it hasn't been that long, but...well, you know what I mean." "I've never carved one myself, so I guess I know how that feels." She finally glances away from the table and notices the eyes aimed at them. They are all intently gazing at Jack, but she notices the few that are in her direction. The skeleton seems completely oblivious to the stares while the ragdoll sinks into her shoulders. It feels...odd to be the center of attention. She tried desperately to avoid such a thing before, but now it's inevitable. She just hopes no one suspects anything... "Jack?" She whispers to him. He seems so unaware; she feels as if he should know. "Everyone is looking at us." He doesn't bother looking from the table. "Is it bothering you?" Her look turns troubled. "Well, I-" The skeleton finally looks up from their pumpkins and meets with the gaze of his citizens. Seeing as his attention is now on them, they all turn away at once - minding their own businesses and resuming what they had been doing before. The conversations pick back up, replacing the tense silence that was once there before. Sally gawks as the skeleton returns to his work, side glancing at her and smiling. "It's that easy. You just have to let me know," He informs her. "But why did they stop looking?" "They just wanted my attention, is all." He shrugs. "But I would much rather give that to you. Now, watch. This is the first step..." He makes sure he has her attention before grabbing one of the knives. He begins to cut a circle around the top of the pumpkin. Her stare is attentive, and she takes many notes as she watches him do this. He eventually revolves around the pumpkin until he successfully cuts the top off, lifting it and revealing the seeds hanging from the inside. She is amazed at how easily he completed such a task, as well as looking at the insides of a pumpkin. She's never seen it before...and she is very fascinated with what she sees. "Wow." "Try cutting yours. And a little tip of advice - don't do it straight down because you'll never get it back on. Try doing it at an angle." She notices the knife left right beside her own pumpkin. She grabs it and picks a spot to cut. She finds out that the pumpkin is extremely harder than it looks. She makes a few grunting noises as she attempts to puncture its surface. She tries to follow his advice and enter the knife in at an angle, but when her arms begin to wobble and her grip loses its strength, she only manages to make a small cut. Her hand fumbles and she drops it altogether, slapping the side of her head in frustration. His voice consoles her from the side. "Hey. Come on. It's nothing to be upset about. I'll help you." She peeks through her fingers and finds him giving her a warm smile. The same one that lets her know things are going to be okay. She perks up as she slowly removes her hands, and he takes this opportunity to take the knife from her hands and finish cutting for her. His large hands look funny working with such a small pumpkin like hers. She giggles to herself as he finishes, lifting the top up and setting it back into place perfectly. "What I do is I make a little indent." He points to a small 'V'-shaped cut made on her top. "That way, you'll know which direction to put the top back on. I can't tell you how many monsters will cut down directly and make a hole that the top can't rest on anymore. And if they get lucky, getting it on just right is a challenge. So, the indent makes that a lot easier." She admires its placement, pulling the top off for herself and setting it back down. It fits right into place. She looks back at him and giggles. "I suppose it makes sense you'd know all this stuff...being the Pumpkin King and all..." "They say I'm the best carver in town." He boasts proudly. "They also say you're the best at everything." He smiles coyly, as if taken a little off guard. "You flatter me, Sally....truly." Then he clears his throat and removes the top off of his pumpkin. "The next step is to remove all the fibrous strands and the seeds from inside. To make it clean and have room for your candle inside. Usually, monsters use their claws, but I like using these." He picks up some of the spoons and other things from the table, then begins to scoop out the insides. She watches him intently and mentally takes notes on what to do. When she goes to remove her top and peek inside the pumpkin, she finds herself distracted with what's inside. These strands look....very peculiar. She goes to touch it and cringes slightly. It's very cold and wet. It also feels sticky...like some sort of orange goop...not to mention it makes very moist sounds, like when the Doctor scratches his brain. "It looks funny," She says aloud. He glances over and notices her shivering the moment her hand clenches a handful of the stuff. She discards it right away and hesitates to grab anymore. The way she's biting her lip is very cute, but even he can tell she's having difficulties. "Do you want me to do it for you?" He offers. "Oh, could you?" She nudges her pumpkin closer to him. He pauses with his work to empty out hers, scraping the insides. It takes only a few minutes until he's finished, where the inside of hers looks completely clean. He empties his own then cleans off his hands with a napkin. Sally inspects his work and claps in excitement, relieved and looking forward to continue on with the process. She's having a lot of fun with him - it feels very natural to her, to participate with these things and doing something she'd never thought of doing before. She's very glad he invited her to do this. "What's the next step?" She asks. "Now, we pick out the designs." He throws the napkin to the side. "This year's plan is to carve an eyeball...but between you and me, anyone can take creative liberties. So, go with any design you want." "Whatever I want?" She echoes, tapping her chin uncertainly. "Well...what are you going to carve?" "I think I'm going to carve a bat. It's fairly simple, and easy to do." "Really? Then...then I think I want to make a cat." "Do you need help drawing the design? I can do that for you real quick." "Will you?" He sees her perk up and nods, moving himself closer to her and grabbing a marker off the table. He turns the pumpkin out of her view and works on the design. It takes him only a couple of minutes until he's done, where he sits back and returns the cap back on the pen. Sally learns over to look at it and finds a simplistic cat drawn on the pumpkin. But she notices the style about it, its thin body reminding her of her own alley cat. "Now, see, you're actually going to carve the lines outside of the cat." He points at it. "Except its eyes, of course - cats have wonderful, glowing eyes...but the figure you leave as it is. It'll look like a shadow. Or a black cat." "I want it to be a black cat," She decides. "Alright. Just make sure there's enough room for the candle, since you picked a small one and all." He suddenly holds up his knife. "Watch this." She does. And she very well may have witnessed what might be the most interesting thing she'd seen in her life. He cuts the lines perfectly in only a matter of seconds, maneuvering his hands carefully and keeping a watchful eye to follow the lines rhythmically. It doesn't take long until he pops the cut parts out, leaving a large figure of a bat in its absence. She can see where the light of the candle will shine through. It looks perfect. She can't fathom how quickly he had made it. Pointing at it, she notices a similarity. "It looks like the one on your bow tie." "You think so?" He takes a quick glance down at his bow tie and back to his pumpkin. "Hm. You're right. I didn't realize that." She gets busy attempting to carve her pumpkin. She does her best while Jack goes on about something in the background. She tries to listen to him as she works, his voice calming her every time she feels overwhelmed. But her clumsiness is inevitable - her hand begins to slip and shake every time she follows a line. What was once a perfectly-symmetrical moon now has jagged lines. Even the figure of the cat looks like roadkill. She sets down her knife to stare at it sadly. The eyes look far too much like triangles... Her love, meanwhile, applauds. "I like it." "I ruined your design." She lowers her head in defeat. "No! Just look at the lines you made on the cat." He points at them. "It looks like it's scared out of its wits! That's a very good job, if you ask me." She tilts her head. She can see it now...it looks like a cat when its back is hunched and hissing. She looks back at the skeleton and smiles. He always knows how to make her feel better. "I think you're right..." She feels prouder of her creation the longer she stares at it. He gave her confidence that she didn't know she needed. It looks perfectly fine for a first try...it must be exceptional if Jack likes it. But, then again, maybe he's a little biased...no, his opinion is always sincere! She glances over at him and notices he's adding a few finishing touches to his own, sharpening some areas and dulling others. She can't help but follow the movement of his hands with her eyes. It's as if he's done this hundreds of times before... "So," He begins, finally tearing away his gaze from his work. "How is someone enjoying their first time carving a pumpkin?" "I like it. The insides feel very...wet...and it's a little hard moving the knife, but it's very enjoyable." She waits before adding, "I think that's because I'm with you." "Mm. Am I that good of a teacher, Miss Sally?" She holds in a giggle at the new term. It sounds so...classy. And it makes her feel very good. "-The best I've ever had, Mr. Skellington." He pauses in his process to give her a meaningful smile, finding something endearing hearing that name out of her mouth, then sets down his knife to wipe down his hands once more. "Would you like to do this again?" She recalls something very similar from before -- his invitation from their first date, insisting they'd have a repeat of their wonderful evening that time. It makes her wonder if he really means it when he wants to do these things again, and wishes for nothing more herself. "--Why, Jack...I'd want to do anything with you." "You know, Sally, I feel the same way." His hand grips hers from under the table, then returns his gaze to their pumpkins. "I think we're just about done here. Would you like to know the final step?" "What is it?" "We display it!" He grabs his pumpkin then places it on a nearby mantel proudly. "Horrible! Don't you think so?" "It looks even better from a distance." She picks up her own pumpkin and hesitates before sitting it next to his. She notes right away the difference in detail - hers very much looks like a child had made it, while Jack's was more than incredible...Despite this, he admires them both from beside her, turning and speaking with usual enthusiasm. "What do you know? It's look better when it's in a pair." She fiddles with her hands timidly. "I think so, too..." He looks at her for a moment or two before glancing around them again, smiling and leaning down, quietly asking, "...Would you like to take a stroll, now? Just the two of us?" She was hoping he'd ask. With her nod of encouragement, he begins leading her out of Town, through the gates, and into the more secluded alleyways - holding her hand once they are out of sight, and never letting go. The two talk more of what had just happened, and in the midst of their conversation, find themselves naturally heading on the path towards their favorite hill... ---------------- Dr. Finklestein, coincidentally, is on a very similar route. But this isn't a merry trip nor is he on a casual errand to the grocery store. No, he's absolutely seething as he guides his small hand on the controls of his chair. After a restless hour of fighting with his thoughts, struggling with his insecurities accompanied by the endless curiosity of what has exactly happened to his ragdoll, he decided to ask her himself. But that plan hadn't gone as predicted, as the moment he opened up her door, he found the window open and Sally gone yet again. Not that he was surprised, of course, but it enraged him after their promise they had made an hours prior. What an unfaithful, wretched girl... He scowls inwardly, lips twitching as they always do when he's agitated. He can feel a little of his drool finding its way down his neck, which he promptly wipes away. She's probably out in the town...or with Skellington....who knows? I can't bother with these details anymore... Ordering his assistant to oversee everything while he was gone, Finklestein decided to go with a...new approach while searching for his missing ragdoll. He was not to yell for her, nor exclaim her name while out in public. That just draws more attention to himself, he finds, and from that, Sally hides before he can even find her! So a more quiet approach is necessary, and he must make himself as invisible as possible so she won't bail the moment he's in her sight. Being one of the palest residents in the town, he knows how difficult this task is, as he covered himself with an old jacket he found in one of his closets. The wheelchair might be a giveaway, but moving himself through the shadows has made him unnoticed thus far. "When I see that Sally..." He mutters to himself before feeling a sudden pain in his chest. He clenches at it with his free fist. "Augh... That woman's torturing me without even trying! Does that girl know how much trouble she IS?" Enduring these sudden chest pains and shortness of breath, the Doctor continues on his way until he hears voices from afar. He stops his wheelchair entirely and lifts his large head, trying to find the source of the noise. He eventually realizes it's several yards in front of him, and sticks himself to the walls while creeping forward. He eventually comes upon two figures - both tall, and situated almost too comfortably among themselves. His fingers twitch as he recognizes the two of them, his glasses shimmering in realization as Jack Skellington's voice coos to his ragdoll, who is pressed gently against the wall with the skeleton's arms pinned against her sides. From his position, he can see his chest barely grazing against her own, evoking a growl-like noise from his own throat. No doubt an inviting gesture, The Doctor thinks, fingernails pressing against his gloved palm. What does that boy think he's doing? Encouraging her rebellious behavior! I should come forward and stop this-- His body stiffens as the two lean in and lock lips. His jaw falls open as his hands release themselves. He can't even think of a word at this moment! Seeing his beloved King perch himself on his creation...the beautiful woman he made promised to himself, in the hands of another man - a man much more attractive, suave, and talented than himself...The embodiment of his insecurities, all formed into a skeleton he once believed to respect -- kissing a woman knowing who she is promised to...An act of such indecency... As Jack pulls away, Finklestein finds her giggling and smiling. Batting her eyelashes at him. He notices the way her shoulders bunched up and the leg that lifts when the Pumpkin King trails a finger along her chin. He feels like a dirty old man who has stumbled upon an innocent young romance -- but that's not the case, he reminds himself...this is his woman, HIS supposed-fiancée! He wandered into something most unpleasant for himself...a situation he knew he was bound to see, but the sight of it just makes him repulsed. A man he once respected has taken something that was rightfully his...he is angry, and he has every right to storm up and break whatever it is that is happening here. But why isn't he doing it? The man takes several moments to consider this. He's trying to be hidden. Absorbing the scene with only his eyes. But that itself is questionable...he is finding no pleasure from this. It is the exact opposite. He's filled with hate and resentment, but he finds no urge to bring that upon either of them. Which is very odd...he made it very clear to Sally that she was made for him, where she belongs, and what she is to do...but something different comes when he has this feeling. When he finds that smile on her face - one he has never seen himself, yet only exists because she is around that boy. She is happy right now. And he has never seen that himself. He's never given her that feeling. And now, he realizes, how horrible this realization feels... A tear finds its way out from his glasses, and he wipes it away without thinking. He feels more of them fall. His eyes are fixated on the figures as his mouth pulls into a low frown. But the anger has faded from his eyes, and in its absence are the gray pupils of a man who has lost something. Not something -- but someone. More thoughts are pouring in, revelations that have been hidden from his eyes for so long now, are causing the tears to grow. They fall until his cheeks are completely moist, and by that time, Jack and Sally have already left. They're continuing on their way, but Finklestein remains where he is. Even a genius like him knows this is obvious. He is stuck in a position of naiveté and stubbornness. Everything he hoped for, the future he envisioned for this girl...it was no more. They are no more. He has fought and struggled through his process, this process of losing her...he has rejected it for as long as he has known. He's spent such little time believing he was to marry her and instead spent longer denying her feelings for another man. He moves his hand to his chest and gently places it over his heart. His heart that no longer beats, but the pain it feels is unfathomable. Sally has done something to him he didn't deem possible within himself-- He is heartbroken. As the tears find their way onto his lips, he recognizes the taste. It's salty. The dead fish that was so prominent is gone now. He received his answers - but not all of them.  But the rest will all have to wait. For now, all he wants to do is soak in these feelings of neglect and distress. He turns his wheelchair slowly in the opposite direction, retreating back to his tower in defeat. He thinks nothing more of Sally or even Jack. He instead thinks of his dinner, and how the poison will taste tomorrow. ------------------------- "I love you, Jack." How she adores these words. She has wanted to say them for so long now that they feel almost foreign slipping off of her tongue. She even still has this little fear of his reaction. But this is suppressed as the skeleton easily replies, merely moments after the words left her own lips, does she hear the answer she has dreamed of hearing for so long. "I love you too, Sally." There. She melts again. He leaves a kiss on her forehead and her eyes gleam dreamily at him. They are sitting in their rightful spot on their favorite hill as they always have. They had a very long talk on the way over here, and exchanged some...new things during their slight detour. Hearing the words he said to her in those moments, being pinned against the wall, with no escape and no options but to face the man who had her trapped between his arms...Oh, God...Sally is head over heels for this skeleton man. He excites her. He always has. But now she's truly feeling it -- her heart racing in her chest, the exhilaration she can feel in her fingertips... She wants this feeling to never end. "It's very strange, being in love like this," He confesses to her, snapping her out of her daze. "But not a bad strange. It's a good strange. If you understand what I mean?" "I believe I do." She comes forward to nestle her head on the side of his neck. "It's very new. The Doctor never taught me about love." He turns his head slightly, interested. "Really, now?" "I didn't even know what marriage was until you explained it to me. Then you said something about being in love, and I only read about that in books. The Doctor...I've never felt like this around him. It's because of those stories I knew what it's like to feel this way..." She closes her eyes. "But it's one thing reading it and another experiencing it..." "Oh. You have no idea." He laughs slightly, gripping her hair gently in his hand. "I read those books about a man falling in love with a beautiful woman...to think about her in the mornings and wanting to be by her side...I thought it was hopeless for myself, but here I am feeling the exact same things." Her ruby lips curl into a smile. Her hand clutches at his suit. She still can't fathom how real this all is. "-You said something about doing things you wouldn't think of before...well, because of you, I feel happier back at home. Like I have nothing to worry about. I can do things without feeling scared anymore." He perks up. "Re-Really?" "I ate breakfast with the Doctor and Igor. I never did that before." She laughs. "And then, I realized...it's because I was thinking of you. I felt so happy. I didn't have a reason to worry about what they'd say or what I'd be punished for...Just thinking of you kept me strong, I-I guess is what I'm saying..." His hand slithers its way into her own, which she happily squeezes. She takes another inhale of his cologne. This feels almost too real. "You give me confidence, too, Sally...Why, I finished all my work the other night because I moved my desk closer to my window. Every time I looked at your place, it gave me this...good feeling. Knowing you were somewhere there." "You mean it?" "Yes. I do. And that good feeling is what I need to continue working. I haven't been this invested in my work for a long time." She becomes tense hearing that last part, and turns her head to look at him in wonder. It's been some time since he last hinted to his feelings with Halloween...the time he found her in the Graveyard, she could pick up on his mixed feelings with the holiday. And she recalls asking him about it. What could've been troubling him like with her and the Doctor. But he told me it doesn't matter... She thinks to herself. But...did he really mean that? "Jack..." She begins slowly, taking herself off of him and looking at him seriously. "Can you be honest with me, for a moment?" "I'm always honest with you." He affirms. "Well, yes, but....I'd really appreciate it." She holds her breath, fearing this will finally overstep a boundary of his. "D-Do you really....love Halloween?" "What do you mean?" "You've told me how you love it, but at other times, you tell me how troubling it is for you. How much work it is and how that causes you to come here...how i-it's troubling you. But...you've never told me that honestly. Or why that is. And I just want-" "--I do." He realizes he interrupted her and waves a hand apologetically. "I-I mean, I do love Halloween...but it's --- complicated." He notices her look of concern and sighs. "I suppose honesty wouldn't hurt now...hell, you're the only one who might understand." She flutters her eyelashes worriedly. No one understands? What can he mean by that? She watches as he shifts uncomfortably, and she feels her chest turn cold when he averts his gaze. At least he is opening up about this...she's always wanted to know. He's always been the kind man who dealt with her problems, but never has she heard of his own or helped him...and that's what she'd like to do. As his love, after all. That's what partners are for, aren't they? "What I mean by it's complicated is that I've...lost my passion for scaring. But just a little bit! Not entirely. I still feel all kinds of thrills and chills when I get someone to scream, but it just doesn't feel the same anymore. Like I've done the same thing before. And I realized that, after repeating the same plans year after year...doing the same routines, hearing the same old screams...I really am in this sort of loophole. Nothing seemed to change, and I was finding less meaning in what I was doing." She holds her hands together, feeling nothing but sorrow for her dearest friend. She can feel the emptiness he must be experiencing. As if his problems were her own. She comes forward to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he looks at her to smile. But then, when his gaze shifts again, it falls and he's left to dwell more on the matter. "Being the Pumpkin King is wonderful to me. It really is. I get to take care of my people and give them something to look forward to, but...I never had a choice. I didn't choose to become the King nor did anyone pick me. But they love me anyway. And I appreciate them. But as excruciating as Halloween has become...I couldn't find the right change. Sure, the Mayor and I would come up with new ideas and they'd be exciting, but they just became a routine like everything else. The passion doesn't stay as long as I want it to. And at one point, I wanted to give it all up. I didn't want to keep doing this if it meant I had to repeat the same things every year. But I can't. I can't give up my crown or step down. I'd leave my people in the dark, and I want nothing more but for them to be happy, even if it meant I wasn't. I was stuck doing this, and for the longest time, I just dealt with it. But it took a toll on me through the years, and by this point the planning all just feels like one big chore. A 364-day responsibility left in my hands even if I never asked for it." She rubs her hand along his arm, her eyes filled with sadness from this information. "Jack...why didn't you tell anyone about this before?" He almost laughs. "They wouldn't understand. Why would they? This is all they know. Halloween is our purpose, our fun, our connection we share. Why would anyone question something they've done all their death? Who would get tired of this custom we love? I'm their King, and in their eyes, I'm this perfect embodiment of Halloween...no one understands what it's like to dream of something more than what you already have. They can't relate to what I'm going through - not when everything is perfect to them." "Well, I-I'm sure you could've found someone who related to you...someone who wasn't as happy with where they were or what they were doing. Someone who-" "--Someone like you." He finishes, ending her rambling. "Sally, do you realize what you've done for me?" She shakes her head. "You've given me a reason. A purpose. I wanted something new in my afterlife after going through this for so long, and...you're it. I've never fallen in love like this. I've never felt this way about somebody, and it feels so...new. I'm having new experiences with you, and I'm...happy. I'm content. I'm finally finding something to enjoy with Halloween now that you're in my death. And I-I don't know if you know that." "I do, now..." She grows breathless, desperately trying to find more words. "I...I do....I feel-" "Can I kiss you? Please?" The yearning in his voice makes her grow very warm. "Ye-yes, you can always kiss me, Ja-" Her words are interrupted when his lips press against hers, and that's all that is needed to make Sally turn into jelly again. The kiss is intimate and leaves her grasping at his lapels to get leverage. She has felt desire in their previous kisses, but there's something...new in this one. She can feel the longing in his body, and the passion igniting in her own. But she only truly feels this effect once he manages to gently press her body closer to the ground, resting himself above her. She grasps at his suit to keep herself involved with the kiss, until they both eventually break away. Then, her head is left to rest on the ground, where she can look at nothing but his face. "I-I need you..." He confesses, lowering his skull until it's next to her ear. "I've always needed you, Sally. It took me so long to find you. When we met, there was something so...different about you...I honestly couldn't believe you wanted to know about me. And ever since then, I...I felt a lot of things about you." Her cheeks feel hot, but she's unsure if it's because of their closeness or what he's saying. "Jack, I felt the same way when you said you wanted to-to be my...friend...even though you didn't know anything about me." "Are you kidding?" He lifts himself up to look at her. "A beautiful woman who saw me as more than the Pumpkin King? Who wanted to know what I did in my free time and what I thought of Romeo and Juliet? Just what did I do to deserve you, Sally?" Her jaw begins to tingle as she pulls his skull forward to her, brushing her nose against his nasal bone. "How about taking me away from the Doctor?" "-You did most of that yourself, you know-" "Kiss me, Jack..." She waits no moment further to press her lips against his, and he happily returns it by pressing his against her own. His hand finds it way to the back of her head, bringing her closer as they momentarily switch positions on the ground. As Sally continues to kiss the man who has confessed to her changing his own death for the better, she feels a sense of purpose as well as her growing love for Jack Skellington.        

[poppibranchlover]

The Queen and the Butterfly II: The Witch’s Curse - Part 11

This story is a sequel to “The Queen and the Butterfly”.

The story: Poppy offers Branch some cupcakes with butterflies in it which turns out to be mysterious. When the two Trolls eat them, they got transformed into butterflies themselves and realize that the cupcakes were actually cursed by an evil witch! Now they must try to find the witch who made those cupcakes and get a cure to get themselves back to normal, while encountering obstacles in the process along the way.

You already seen what had happened in Part 10. Now get ready for Part 11!:

Poppy and Branch continued to follow Binkie through the underground tunnels. After a while, they stopped by three separate paths in front of them.

Poppy shook her head with dismay. “Oh dear! Three paths?! This is like our encounter with Cloud Guy all over again! What are we going to do now, Branch?”

Branch put a wing to her shoulder and told her “Don’t worry about that! We all know what this meant! But this time, we’re not even going to give up easily!”

“Are you sure? We know some of these can lead us to certain death!”

“Yeah, but now I know how to solve this!” Branch said. Then he turned to Binkie and told him “Binkie, lead the way! Which path would lead us to my bunker?”

The worm looked around at the paths they were supposed to take. Soon, without warning, he slithered off to the middle path, barking.

Branch fluttered forward and cried out worriedly “Hey, Binkie! That’s not what you’re thinking!! You’re going the wrong way!”

“Where is he going?!” Poppy wailed.

“I don’t know! Probably certain death, I think?”

Poppy knew this worm wasn’t really a good help at all, despite Branch’s protesting that his neighbor is usually helpful to him. But how can Binkie know the way to the bunker without even thinking properly?

“Let’s face it. Some worms have very tiny brains and they could think anyhow like that!” hissed Poppy, glaring at Branch.

“Poppy, stop it!” he said. “Binkie’s going to die out there any second!”

“Yeah, well, let’s follow that worm or else he’ll eventually lead us to die!”

And so, Poppy and Branch flew after Binkie in the middle tunnel, eventually catching up with him.

After embracing him for a second, they continued their journey through this tunnel, slithering and fluttering all the way. Branch and Poppy try to keep their hair down as the tunnel is getting narrower and narrower.

Binkie led the way, swishing his little tail. Poppy and Branch followed behind, flapping their shiny little wings quietly and carefully.

How can a worm like Binkie have very tiny brains? Branch thought, as they were crawling along. Learn to get over it, Poppy. Good riddance for life. Ugh!

By the time they were still trapped underground, Binkie stopped slithering. Branch and Poppy stopped to where he stood.

“Uh, are you sure this is the right way to the bunker?” Poppy asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, Poppy,” Branch replied. “It seems like we’re lost.”

“Lost?”

“Yeah, or we could be flying in circles in the next minute!” he added.

Now looks like Branch and Poppy are starting to give up. Binkie looked up at Branch and buried his face down the ground of the tunnel. Then he wriggled and wriggled until half of his body were completely buried here.

Hearing the sound of smudging dirt, Branch and Poppy turned to look at the worm, digging a hole on the ground. Did he really know where the bunker is?

Branch fluttered closer to Binkie, asking “What’s that, Binkie? You found my home?”

Once Binkie finished digging the hole, he barked at his master “Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf!” and he flew closer to him.

“What is it, Binkie?” Branch asked, turning to the small opening right before he gasped in the next instant.

“No way!”

Branch blinked as he realized what is Binkie trying to tell him. He showed him and Poppy a far-off view of his underground bunker. They’ve finally made it back here where they’ve first started their journey!

“Hey, this must be the place!” said Branch. “Binkie had really led us to my home!”

“Look!” Poppy pointed her wing to her picnic basket and her two butterfly cupcakes on Branch’s table. “There’s my picnic basket and my cupcakes!”

The two friends knew this was the time to relax here. They fluttered out of the hole of the tunnel to celebrate their return.

“Finally!” Branch whooped happily. “Back home so soon! I can almost kiss the ground!”

“At last, we made it to your bunker, Branch!” Poppy squealed. “At last, I can’t believe your worm friend knows the way!”

“Well, yes he did! I told you he knows where my home is!” Branch told her. Then he fluttered next to Binkie, who is still peeking out from the hole, and said to him “Thanks for leading us here! I never knew he can trust me as much as I know you’re my neighbor!”

“Of course! You’re such a very helpful creature Branch has ever met!” Poppy added. “I thought you could almost lead us to certain death but this time, I think you’ve made us to come here so perfectly! Thank you so much!”

Binkie whimpered at the compliment and blushed. Branch chuckled.

Poppy glanced at the cupcakes on the table for a moment. Then she turned towards Branch and asked “Would you like to say something to your little worm friend before we go in?”

“Oh! Right!” Branch perked up. Then he glanced at Binkie and gave him a gentle look on his face, telling him “We have to get going, Binkie. Our butterfly wings are starting to get tired after all that adventure we had! You’re the best neighbor ever.”

Then he rested on the edge of the hole and puts his head over Binkie, giving him a soft emotional head cuddle. Touched, the worm cuddled back, as if to thank him too.

After a moment of farewell, Poppy fluttered to Branch’s side and told him “Let’s go! Our cupcakes are just waiting to be investigated!”

Branch stopped cuddling Binkie and immediately followed her words. “Okay, I’ll catch up with you, Poppy!” He turned to Binkie before quickly following her down the room. “Bye, neighbor! Gotta fly!”

Binkie watched them go. Then he waved goodbye to them with his tail, just as Poppy and Branch fluttered their way down near the picnic basket on the table.

Branch felt no other than happy to be home again. “Oh, it’s so good to be back here again!” he said happily. “I’ll never leave this place until we become Trolls in no time!”

Suddenly, his stomach started rumbling. So does Poppy’s. It seems like they’ve been gone for too long and haven’t ate anything in a while. After all that fluttering around the woods and escaping dangerous obstacles along the way, they were starving.

Branch groaned as he looked down at his complaining stomach. “Oh god. Now we’re starving after all this crazy adventure we had! How can we eat if we’re butterflies now?”

“Not to worry, Branch. I got some food inside my picnic basket!” Poppy said, pointing her wing to her picnic basket, still sitting on the table since they’ve disappeared. “I’m pretty sure there’s so many to eat besides those cupcakes!”

“Um, seriously?” Branch asked, raising his eyebrow. “We’re butterflies!”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll learn how to eat like one!” Poppy said. “Come with me!”

She fluttered to her basket and opened the lid with her hair. Then she went inside as Branch followed her in.

When Branch and Poppy were finally inside the basket, Poppy closed the lid. And all they can see is complete darkness.

“Poppy, your basket looks so dark here!” said Branch as he looked around.

Poppy turned on her light using her hair and told him “Don’t worry! My hair has light so we’d be able to see!”

Poppy and Branch fluttered slowly when the light came to view. All around them were giant-sized food!

“Whoa!” Branch said, amazed and delighted by what they saw: an endless supply of all kinds of tasty food! “Look at all this stuff!”

“Yes,” Poppy agreed, licking her lips. “I packed so much for us to eat!”

“Well, where can we find something to eat first?” asked Branch.

“Come with me!” said Poppy. “I show you one of my best treats I’ve made for you!”

She fluttered to the left side. There laid a huge sandwich. This sandwich is made with slices of lettuce, ham, tomatoes, bacon, cheese and pickles.

Poppy took a big sniff at it and cooed “Ooooooh! I wonder if this sandwich I made looks tasty! Should we eat this together, Branch?”

“Poppy, I’m not sure if we’re gonna eat this sandwich together!” Branch said, glancing at it. “We’re so tiny! We can’t even eat Troll food if we’re very tiny bugs!”

“Oh, learn to get over your seriousness, mister!” Poppy said in a mock tone, teasing him. “Let me try to take a bite at it!”

Then she fluttered to the piece of ham and took a bite on it. CHOMP!!!

Branch watched in disbelief as she began eating half a chunk of the massively-enormous sandwich. He has no idea what is going on. Most Trolls eat food using their hands. And as for butterflies...how can they really eat like this?

Soon Poppy has finished eating part of the sandwich and she let out a burp. Branch grimaced. “Oh my god.”

Poppy looked at him and told him “Come on, Branch! You gotta try this! I made this for you! It’s so delicious!”

Branch looked taken aback. He shook his head, fluttering backwards. “Oh no, I’m not eating, Poppy! I’m a butterfly! I don’t know about this!”

“But you’re hungry!” said Poppy. “Please eat this! I’m sure this sandwich will definitely make you happy!”

Branch stared at the big sandwich looming over him. Of course, it looked so huge compared to the smaller sandwiches Trolls ate! He knew he had to make a decision for this.

But the rumbling of his stomach had interrupted his thoughts. So Branch has no choice but to give in anyway. He fluttered near to the sandwich and glanced at it. It was Poppy’s sandwich and she made this for him! Surely because she cares so much about him that she’d packed so many food for him to eat. If only he dared not to take a bite on it...

But then he started sniffing it, smelling the scrumptious overload of meat and vegetables decorated on top and below of two pieces of bread. Without even thinking, Branch opened his mouth and took a bite at the sandwich! CHOMP!!!

“Mmmmm, mmmmm!!” He chewed on the pieces of cheese and ham and swallowed. Poppy watched contently as he ate the sandwich in the same way as she demonstrated.

After a moment, Branch turned to Poppy and smiled. It was the best sandwich he’d ever ate in his life!

“Wow, thanks for this sandwich, Poppy!” he said happily. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, you’re welcome!” she replied. “Now let’s eat this together!”

“Okay!”

Poppy and Branch opened their mouths wide to the sandwich, gobbling up each piece of it until there were no more chunks of it.

CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!!!

Once they’ve finished devouring the rest of the sandwich, Poppy and Branch laughed and licked their lips.

“Oh, Poppy!” Branch said. “That sandwich looks so yummy! Is there any more we can eat here?”

“Well, there is! Come on!” Poppy said as she flew to the other side. Branch followed her. The two of them stopped by some stacks of chocolate chip cookies before them.

“Oh, look! Cookies!” Poppy chirped. “I bet they look tasty!”

“I agree!” Branch said, sniffing at the wonderful aroma of chocolate. “Let’s dig in some!”

Then he and Poppy flew to the stack and gathered two of the cookies for them to eat. They soon started chomping on them as crumbs started falling to the ground as they eat.

CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!!!

When they finished eating, Branch has crumbs all over his face as he grinned at Poppy. “These cookies are so good! I could barely eat them all at just one chomp!”

“Yes, they are!” Poppy said. She noticed the crumbs on Branch’s face and added “Hang on. Your face has crumbs! Let me clear it up for you!”

But Branch shook his head. “No thanks, Poppy,” he said. “I can do that myself-”

Before he can finish, Poppy pulled out her tongue and started licking the crumbs from his face. He laughed and laughed. To him, it looked as if Poppy was tickling him! His wings flapped faster and faster as he continued laughing.

“Poppy, stop it!” he cried, laughing so hard as her tongue covered his whole face. “That tickles!”

Next, Poppy and Branch fluttered to a pile of corns on cobs.

They grabbed one of the corn and settled it down to the ground.

And then, Branch took a bite on the corn and began to eat.

CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!! CHOMP!!!!

While he was eating, he didn’t see that Poppy was also eating on the same cob. By the time they reached towards each other, they bumped their heads together.

BONK!!!

Realizing that they were both eating here, Poppy and Branch looked at each other and blush.

Then they share a romantic kiss before resuming their eating.

Later, Poppy was now alone in her basket. She was searching for Branch as she called “Branch? Where are you?”

There was a packet of crackers standing before her. It was shaking as if someone has been eating from inside it. After a second, the box shook so hard it fell right near her! THUNK!!!

Startled, she flew back by the time she saw it! The lid of the box opened and crackers and crumbs fell out of it. Who has been eating those stuff?

Branch!

He was happily munching on one of the crackers as he suddenly came out of the box. Poppy giggled, amused by what she saw. It was never a dull moment to see her boyfriend being happy at all the food around them!

Then Branch looked up at Poppy, holding the cracker he was eating in his mouth proudly.

“I’m so happy you like all my snacks here!” she cooed at him.

“Yeah!” Branch said. “It’s like an “all-you-can-eat” buffet in here!”

Suddenly, an aroma of chocolate came to his nose and he sniffed at it. Then he gasped excitedly. “Oooh! What is that over there!”

Branch sniffed again. Then he flew towards the delicious chocolate smell!

                                                  To Be Continued...

                                              Stay tuned for Part 12!

Note: Yeah, I know this part looks so long to make. But I can’t help making more than enough scenes of Poppy and Branch in the picnic basket! So I’ll do the cake scene in the next part soon. Anyways, hope you like the next chapter! :)

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Part of Your World

Chapter 5: suddenly i saw you

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 4234

Chapter: 5/11 (All chapters)

Summary: Baz finds a mysterious man on his kingdom’s shores.

Read on AO3

AN: This chapter is longer than the previous ones, and they’ll be longer from now on. So enjoy some more Little Mermaid AU! :D

———————————————-

Baz sat on the cliff’s edge, bow dragging across his violin strings. He played the song perfectly, of course. Even if his only audience was the open ocean and the fish below. Malcolm had asked to play outside, out of earshot for Daphne. His music was apparently “too morose” for her nerves. It was always too morose. Baz was pretty sure his family just didn’t like violin music.

With tired arms, he let the instrument fall to his lap. He looked out at the roaring ocean. A shudder ran down his spine involuntarily. Two whole weeks later and the memories still gave him shivers. The yelling on the ship, fire roaring around him, the explosion hurtling his body into the cold, cold waves.

His saviour’s voice.

Malcolm was convinced that Baz had imagined it all. Simply the hallucinations of a drowning man, putting a person in place of the tide that had washed him ashore. Baz knew not to argue. Once his father had decided something, that was the end of the discussion.

Still, he had sounded so beautiful. The words were burned into Baz’s brain. The sound of his voice, from the alto pitch to the slightly rough accent, still rang in his ears. You’re incredible, Baz. I hope you know that.

“ARF ARF!” Max jumped on Baz large paws first.

“Max!” Baz yelled as the massive sheep dog knocked him over, licking his face happily. “Max quit it!”

He still giggled in spite of himself. Even the great solemn Basilton Pitch wasn’t immune to dog adorableness. He eventually pushed himself up again, scratching behind Max’s ears.

“Yes yes, you’re cute and you know it.”

Max panted and licked Baz’s hand again. Then his ears suddenly perked up. His mouth closed as his head whipped around, big black nose twitching.

Baz pulled back. “What is it, boy?”

The sheep dog bolted away, tearing up grass beneath him. Baz scrambled to his feet. If Max got lost or hurt, Mordelia and the twins would kill him. He chased the giant mop down the hill, around the corner and across the beach. Max stopped just behind a large rock, barking loudly at something there. When Baz saw what it was, or rather who it was, he didn’t blame Max for freaking out. He was freaking out too.

It was a boy, no older than Baz himself, lying face first in the sand. His hair was a damp mess of bronze curls tangled with seaweed. His skin was another shade of gold, covered in freckles and moles, but caked with wet sand. Slowly, he lifted his head up, blinking sleepily as he focused on Baz. Bit by bit, a smile crept across his unfairly gorgeous face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Baz almost gave up on breathing. The man’s eyes were plain blue. Not navy. Not cornflower. Not shot with hazel or violet. Just, blue. Yet somehow, it was the most breathtaking colour Baz had ever seen.

“Oh my,” he whispered. Though this man was handsome, Baz had to look away. For he was also completely naked.

Baz looked around the beach, and his eyes landed on an old piece of sail cloth. Not exactly fine couture, but it would do. He quickly grabbed the white cloth and held it out behind him to the mystery boy.

“Here,” he said quickly.

Many moments passed and Baz was still holding the cloth. Cautiously, he turned his head. Max sat obediently next to the stranger, tongue hanging out and tail wagging, waiting with characteristic excitement. The boy himself was kneeling on the sand, looking at the sail curiously. His bronze eyebrows furrowed together, lips pulled into a pouting frown. Baz found it insanely adorable. But he looked away again to resist temptation to look any lower.

“You can wear it,” Baz explained, a slight annoyed edge to his voice. “As clothing.”

The boy finally took the cloth, much to Baz’s relief. When he turned, he was mostly covered, but still struggling to wind it around himself. Baz shook his head with a sigh. Whoever this infinitely gorgeous man was, he was a little clumsy and possibly a bit dim. But...in a very cute way.

Baz put down his violin and kneeled in front of him. “Here, let me help,” he grumbled.

He helped wrapped the large fabric piece around him, then threw a corner over the stranger’s shoulder, turning it into a sort of Greek toga. A piece of frayed rope hung around the middle. So Baz tied it his waist to better hold up the makeshift outfit.

“There. Now you’re actually decent.”

Baz took gave him a good once over. The robe looked strange, but at least it covered him. The mystery man pulled and scratched at the fabric, like he wasn’t used to the sensation of it. Baz chewed on his lip. For some reason, his blue eyes and gold colouring seemed strangely familiar...

“So,” Baz said, voice pretending to be disinterested, “I should say hello, I suppose. May I ask your name?” The boy’s head snapped up and he nodded vigorously, a smile splitting across his face. Baz gave a half smile back. The anticipation for hearing his voice was reluctantly building. “Well then, spit it out. Don’t feel the need to build suspense.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but much to Baz’s shock and confusion, nothing came out. His lips and tongue moved like they were forming words, but there was only silence. The mystery man’s face fell, mouth slightly open and blue eyes round. His expression was somewhere between disappointed and forlorn. He softly traced over his freckled throat.

Baz’s heart sank. It’s not him, he thought sadly. It was a long shot to start with, but he was still disappointed. And this stranger looked so sad. Baz usually had little sympathy for anyone, but he certainly felt bad for this man. With an expression like that, there was no way he couldn’t. He shuffled forward a bit, knees nearly touching the man opposite him.

“You can’t speak?” Stranger shook his head, damp bronze curls shaking sadly. The corners of his lips turned down in a frown. It was a truly forlorn expression rather than confused like before. Baz pondered what to do. How was he supposed to learn about this man when he had no voice? But, words didn’t have to be spoken to be understood, really.

“Hey,” he said, catching his strange companion’s attention. “Can you spell it out? Your name?” The boy perked up and nodded. Baz offered his palm. “Then spell it here.”

Mystery boy’s eyes went wide for a second. He cautiously cupped Baz’s hand, fingertips dragging delicately there for a little longer than normal. Baz found the his hands strangely smooth, like sea glass. Much smoother than his own rough hands. (Everyone in his family tended to have rough hands.)

He pressed a smooth finger to Baz’s palm, and began to move it. “S...” Baz started, following his tracing. “I...M...O...N” He looked up at him with pulled together black brows. “Simon? Your name is Simon?”

The boy, or Simon, nodded rapidly. Baz nodded along with him. “Okay. Hello, Simon. I’m Baz.”

Simon tried to say “I know” back, but only breathed out more silence. His face twisted in frustration. Considering how rarely he used his voice when he had it, it was strange how much he missed it now. He wanted to shout at Baz. Shout, yes! I know! I know you’re name because I saved your life. And I saved you because you’re honourable and brave. I’m here now because I want to know even more about you and your amazing world.

But Simon had no voice to use. He thought about spelling it out in the sand. But...telling Baz would lead to difficult questions. “Where did you come from?” “How did you save me?” “What are you?” All of which he didn’t know how to answer yet.

Quickly, Simon perked up again, and just waved with a wide grin. Baz couldn’t help but smile. It was too damn cute.

“Well,” Baz said firmly, “do you live in Watford? Anywhere to stay?” Simon sighed and shook his head. “Okay then. You’ll have to come stay with me for now, I suppose. It only makes sense. Alright?”

Simon nodded again, so hard Baz feared his head would snap off. Baz stood up, and Simon followed. But suddenly, his legs wobbled like an unstable fawn and he fell forward.

“Shit! Careful!” Baz shouted just as he caught him. Max barked furiously at them both. Simon gripped his forearms, breathing heavily. Wow, he thought, legs are fucking weird. He looked up at Baz nervously. Simon’s heart was beating so hard with anticipation and happiness he feared it would burst.

While Baz, he felt his stomach drop like a lead weight. He had a terrible feeling that he could get lost in those plain blue eyes, and spend ages mapping the constellations of moles and freckles on this Simon’s face. He was beautiful in a way that physically ached. Even when he was awkwardly bent over in front of Baz with shaky legs, clutching to him for dear life, and dressed in a bloody tattered sail. Baz knew he was playing with fire. That these feelings were dangerous in so many ways.

But Baz had always had a thing for fire.

He hoisted Simon to his feet, then wrapped one of his arms around his neck. Simon leaned against him. His skin felt unbelievably electric on Baz’s. But Baz tried to ignore that for now in favour of helping his new companion just walk. That was the more important task.

“C’mon, one foot in front of the other,” Baz grumbled, though still going slowly as an example. Simon followed and got steadier with every step. Max barked as trotted along, almost like he was giving encouragement. Baz didn’t let go of Simon until they reached the castle. And he certainly didn’t let go of Baz.

———————————————-

“What on earth were you thinking, Basil?”

His father’s tone made Baz flinch. The last time he sounded like this was when he caught Baz smoking a pipe in a shed. What was scary was that Malcolm didn’t even need to raise his voice. The cold disapprovement was cutting enough.

“I was thinking of being a good future ruler,” he replied coolly.

“By taking in a stray?” Malcolm stood from his chair to better loom over his son. But Baz wasn’t intimidated. He merely straightened his back, clasping his long fingered hands in his lap.

“By taking in a misfortunate youth with no voice who washed up on the shores of our kingdom, probably from a shipwreck. I say that’s a noble cause worthy of a crown prince. Wouldn’t you?”

Malcolm scowled, teeth grinding together. “How do we know he’s not a spy from another kingdom? Sent to collect information?”

Baz scoffed. “Your paranoia has reached new heights, Father. But no, I don’t believe a boy no older than myself, that I found naked on a beach and could barely walk a mere few hours ago, is a spy.”

Malcolm seemed to ponder this for a moment, slowly sliding his bottom jaw back and forth. Baz just sat there, pretending he wasn’t nervous, when really a storm was brewing in the pit of his stomach. But when Malcolm let out his breath, so did Baz.

“Very well,” Malcolm grumbled. “He can stay for the time being. But he’s your responsibility, Basilton. Understood?”

Baz stood up, straightening his tunic. “Of course. I’ll feed him, play with him, and take him out for walks when he gets restless. Just like Max.” He earned a glare from his father, but Malcolm still waved him away. Baz breathed a long sigh of relief the second he was out the door.

When Baz entered his room, pushing apart the double doors, he immediately froze. There sat Simon, sitting on his bed. He wore a loose silk salmon colored tunic with tight waisted white riding trousers. They were Baz’s, given to Simon after the bath Daphne insisted he take. The sleeves and pant legs were rolled up to accommodate Simon’s shorter height. They were definitely more comfortable than a tattered sail. With the seaweed out of his hair and mud off his body, Simon looked even more beautiful. His wild curls shone brighter bronze, his freckled skin now all a gorgeous dirt-free tawny.

Baz wished he could fully appreciate him. But Mordelia’s presence put a damper on it.

“Your name is Simon, right?” she chirped, and he nodded. “Where are you from? Do you have parents? Do you have friends? Is Baz your friend now? He’s sort of a tosser though, so I wouldn’t be his friend. Are you-”

“Mordelia!” Baz barked, making both her and Simon jump and stare at him. “Stop bugging him and get out.”

“But-”

“Not ‘buts’, Mordy. Get out!”

Mordelia pouted, bottom lip unnecessarily pushed out. She shoulder checked him on the way out. Baz slammed the door behind her. He groaned, shaking his head.

“Sorry about that,” Baz grumbled. “My little sister is a royal pest.”

Simon shrugged, mouth spelling out but not saying, “it’s fine”. Baz sat opposite him on the bed. Simon was cross legged, hands holding his ankles. He was even more gorgeous up close. Baz could see the gold highlights created in his hair by candlelight and count every individual moles on his face. (Three on his right cheek, two below his left ear, and one under his left eye.) The smell of soap wafted off him. It reminded Baz of something brown and sweet. He tried very hard to ignore his brain, which just kept saying, there’s a beautiful boy in my bed, beautiful boy in my bed, beautiful boy in my bed!

Baz shook the thoughts from his head. “So how are you feeling? Much cleaner, I suppose.”

Simon smiled and held one thumb up. Baz chuckled.

“My father agreed to let you stay with us for the time being. Thankfully, he’s decided not to be a complete arsehole for once. You can sleep in the guest room next door. Is that alright?” Simon nodded. “Good. How are the clothes?”

He pouted again (how was it so cute?) and scratched at the sleeve. Simon shrugged, shoulders coming to his ears.

“Itchy?” Baz asked, and Simon nodded again with his cute frown. It wasn’t that bad actually, just unfamiliar to the former merman. Though he was starting to get used to it. Baz sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head. “It’s the softest silk I could find, Simon. I’m not sure we have anything better for your apparently delicate tastes.”

Simon rolled his eyes. Years of being friends with Penelope had trained him well for sarcastic remarks. His expression said with equal mocking, “I’ll live.”

Baz couldn’t help but give a lopsided smile. Just one half of his mouth pulled up. Baz didn’t like to smile, or show his emotions period. But this sunshiny boy, with his blue eyes and bronze curls, seemed to attack all his defenses. It was a scary and wonderful thing all at once.

“C’mon,” Baz said, gesturing as he slid off the bed. “It’s supper time.”

Simon jumped off the mattress with a bounce. He grinned with all his teeth, hiding none of his radiant joy. Baz chuckled under his breath. This Simon was certainly strange, but also entertaining, and endearingly sweet. Baz couldn’t ignore the way that made his heart stutter.

———————————————-

Dinner with the Grimm family was usually just that, grim. It was conducted without speaking, save for the occasional kingdom matters discussion between Malcolm and Daphne. So when Baz and Simon arrived at the table, the deafening silence was not out of the ordinary for the prince. But Simon found it a bit strange. Baz’s father looked like a white haired sea snake, ready to go for the kill at any moment. And everyone else, including the baby, just looked bored. Was this how all humans ate meals? Or just these ones?

“Basil,” Malcolm said.

“Father,” Baz replied coolly.

They took their seats opposite all of Baz’s younger siblings. Baz noticed that Simon looked down at the place setting with confusion, like he’d never seen one before. He picked up the fork and spun it in his fingers, examining it with a close eye. Then, to everyone’s confusion and slight horror, he started running the tongs through his bronze curls. He combed the ringlets up with a wide grin on his face. Malcolm and Daphne’s eyes went wide. Mordelia and the twins tried to contain their laughter. The baby didn’t even try, burbling with giggles. Baz put his fist to his mouth to hide the smile he couldn’t help.

Simon suddenly noticed everyone staring, freezing with the fork still wound in his thick hair. Baz slowly reached up and pulled his fork holding hand down. He shook his head slowly. Simon promptly turned beet red, flushed all the way to his ears and neck as he looked down. The children were still giggling. Baz patted Simon’s hand reassuringly under the table. Simon’s eyes flicked over to him, lips pulled up in an apologetic smile. He hooked a finger around Baz’s for, just a second. And Baz nearly turned just as red as him.

“Dinner is served,” a servant thankfully announced.

Silver plates were brought out from the kitchen, placed on the long mahogany table in front of every person. The servants lifted the silver covers. Puree for the baby, roasted chicken for the kids, and red crab with garden salads for the adults. Simon was immediately taken aback, pushing against his chair with wide eyes.

Simon didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t really explain that he was actually a merman who’d never eaten a sea creature. He ate sea vegetables mostly or animals captured from land. But never another living thing from the ocean. It felt sort of wrong. It would be impossible to explain even with words. So he just poked at the crab shell with his fork over and over again.

“Simon,” Baz started with exasperated tone, “don’t you know it’s rude to play wi-”

Simon looked up and Baz’s breath immediately hitched. He looked pained, face all pinched up like someone had needled him the gut. He poked the shellfish again and shrugged.

“What? Not a fan of crab?”

Simon shook his head, bent over in embarrassment. He didn’t like this. It was just reminding him that as much as he loved it, he wasn’t really a part of this world. But at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to do something so against his nature.

Baz sighed, long and heavy. If this were anyone else, he’d tell them to just get over it. But Simon’s face, red and ashamed and distressed, could somehow not be so easily dismissed by him. Once again, his cold defences faltered under sunshine. So he turned to the kitchen and called, “Chef Pritchard, it appears our guest here is picky and doesn't wish to eat the crab. Can you please get him something else?”

“Of course, your highness,” the chef replied.

“Thank you.”

A serving man whisked away Simon’s crab plate. Simon looked at Baz with what he hoped was a thankful enough expression. If Simon had complained like that to his father, he would’ve been told to suck it up. But for once, he didn’t feel stupid for voicing his opinion (well, voicing in a way.) Baz merely nodded in acknowledgement. But Simon didn’t miss the soft pull at the corners of his lips. It made Simon’s stomach feel so warm.

As Baz ate his crab, he tried to will his blush to disappear. He prayed to God his father didn’t notice. And maybe, just a little, that Simon did.

———————————————-

Later that night, Simon laid in the plush bed, staring up at the ceiling. Candle light from his bedside flickered shadows across the stone. The images was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Poseidon’s Beard, everything was like nothing he’d ever seen before. He didn’t know a bed could be so soft and not made of coral. He’d never realised how great clothes could feel, now that he was used to them. And even though legs were still strange (how did the humans operate two limbs at once to move?!), he took great enjoyment in the little things he could do with them. Like wiggle his toes and shuffle his feet on the carpet. He really liked this whole being human thing.

“Simon!”

Simon bolted up in bed. He looked around his empty room. The only sound was a tapping at the window behind his bed. Cautiously, he turned to it. A seagull was hitting the glass with it’s bill. What in Neptune’s name, Simon thought.

“Simon!” It screeched again. Simon scrambled back, wondering if that spell had messed with his brain as well as changed his body. Wait, he knew that voice.

“Penny?” Simon mouthed. The seagull nodded.

“Yes, it’s me, Simon. Open the damn window.”

He cautiously crawled forward and unlatched the window. Seagull-Penny flew in, landing on Simon’s mattress. She ruffled her white feathers and grinned as best she could with a seagull beak.

“Neat, huh?” She said. “My possession has gotten much better.”

Clearly, Simon thought, nodding slowly.

“How’s the prince seduction going? He kiss you yet?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. It’d only been a day. Penelope was obviously being optimistic just to make him feel better.

She sighed, which came out more as a honk. “That’s too bad. Hope he does it soon.”

He reached forward and patted her feathered head, mouthing, “me too.”

“How is he, anyway, your prince? When he’s not unconscious. Do you like him?”

Simon chuckled, then sighed dreamily. It was odd. Baz was wonderful in the most confounding ways. He did nice things for Simon with sarcasm attached but did them all the same. And it wasn’t the truly cruel berating Simon was used to from his father. Baz was a very strange, very good person. So Simon did like him, quite a lot.

He could feel the colour creeping up his cheeks. (That kept happening today.) He bit at his bottom lip and nodded. Penny smiled brightly with her seagull face.

“Marvelous. Glad you didn’t sacrifice your voice and magic for nothing.”

He laughed without sound, head thrown back. Penelope the Seagull honked as well.

“Simon?” Baz said from outside the door, knocking once.

Simon’s spine straightened, and Penny-Gull froze. “Shit,” she hissed. “I’ll see you later. Promise.” Simon nodded in agreement as he shooed her out the window, latching it behind her. He rushed to the door, smoothing his hair once before opening it.

Baz stumbled back as Simon shoved his head through the crack. He nearly dropped the plate in his hand. Simon just looked at him with a grin, not moving to open the door further.

“May I come in?” He asked, both annoyed and amused. Simon’s mouth formed an ‘o’, then he nodded, opening the door all the way.

Simon sped walked to his bed and jumped on it with a thump. Baz sat gingerly in front of him. He placed the cloth covered plate between them. Simon looked at it with profound confusion.

“Ah, here,” Baz said. He pulled off the napkin to reveal six freshly baked pastries. “Compliments of Chef Pritchard. She wanted to welcome you with her specialty. They’re called sour cherry scones. Try one, they’re quiet good.”

Simon picked one up gingerly. It was warm, crumbly, and smelt wonderful. He took a cautious bite, and his eyes went wide. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. The sugary, fruity taste exploded over his tongue. He chomped down, finishing it in three bites. He took another and ate it just as ravenously. Baz make a slightly horrified noise.

“Dear lord,” he chuckled. “Your manners are absolutely atrocious.”

Simon stuck his scone crumb covered tongue out and took another defiant bite. Baz chuckled more, picking up a treat before Simon ate all of them. Far too soon though, Simon had consumed every last cherry flavoured crumb. He licked his fingers happily. Baz tried to shove down all the inappropriate thoughts that motion created.

“So,” Baz started, “tomorrow I have a dreadfully boring council meeting in the afternoon. But I’m free in the morning. Would you...like to do something?”

Simon nodded vigorously. Yes please, yes please, he thought. Baz nodded only once.

“Good. Get a good night’s rest, then. We’ll have to wake early.” He picked up the empty scone plate and stood straight backed by the bed. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Simon beamed brightly and waved, mouthing “goodnight” with a smile. Baz smiled politely, then grinned wider as he walked out the door.

Once he heard the click of the doorknob, Simon sighed and fell back onto his mattress. He felt like he was floating. For the first time, his life felt like his own. No worrying about his stupid magic or his father’s expectations. Just imagining what he would do with Baz tomorrow. And by Neptune, he couldn’t wait.

He blew out his candle and snuggled down into his pillow. As he dreamt, all Simon saw was grey eyes and raven hair.

———————————————-

See you on Thursday! :)