#natural when she's out of her hoodie AND they could intentionally be like that to show how giant the hoodie is on her

[this-is-a-url]

Look at their legs and try to tell me they make any sense

[cognitivefunctionscomics]

INTP functions characters

Titania: Analytical, reserved, unconventional, and self-assured, Ti is critical and sometimes sarcastic. She strives for fairness and can sometimes come off as unintentionally arrogant, cold, self-absorbed, and even destructive. Her dream is to understand everything, setting aside human bias and limitation. She perceives reality as a system with hidden variables that could be controlled if comprehended. She doesn't intentionally exude a "back off" aura but is bothered by those she views as intrusive or disrespectful, especially when they invade her space with too many questions. As such, she’s wary of overly friendly or charming people. While observant, her focus isn't always on the tangible world, like what others wear or current events, unless there's a reason. Instead, she's keen on spotting theoretical flaws and is therefore hard to deceive. Even her friends are scrutinized; she prioritizes caution over instinct. She holds some misanthropic, deterministic, and nihilistic views, even if she identifies as "unbiased", to better deal with stress, ensuring she doesn't take things personally. She appears detached even when engaged, constantly building mental models to understand things from the inside out. When allowed the freedom to explore her often taboo interests, she's endlessly inquisitive. While Ti values intelligence, she sometimes overlooks the obvious or fails to consider the emotional aspects of issues. She adheres to binary logic until undeniable evidence proves otherwise and is irritated by elusive answers. Disliking incompetence and emotional reasoning, she thinks humanity should focus on conquering nature and understanding existence, freeing themselves from ignorance, making informed decisions, and not getting sidetracked by trivial matters, or worse, hindering scientific progress.

Looks: She dresses in practical urban wear, covered from head to toe. A large dark red zippered hoodie with pockets is worn over a turtleneck, paired with denim shorts, leggings, and ankle boots. Ti's short, layered orange hair is chin-length in front and cropped at the back. Her pale complexion contrasts with dark red eyes that seem to absorb light. These eyes often appear both distant and intense, accentuated by dark circles. Her expression, typically flat, gives her an air of fatigue or inaccessibility. When she does display happiness, it's subtle—a twitch of a closed smile.

Theme: Knowledge. With complete understanding, existence would lose its dominion over individuals, allowing them to manifest absolute individuality, control, and intelligence within their confines.

Nereida: Energetic and spontaneous, Ne is a dreamer. She's inventive, flexible, and inclusive, bringing a burst of bubbly energy everywhere she goes, but struggles with commitment to her grand visions. Going with the flow, she absorbs a plethora of information, always aiming to make last-minute optimal decisions. With a belief that every problem has a solution, she’s curious about everything, often applying knowledge from one domain to another. Her passion for learning mirrors Ti's focus, but Ne's is rooted in the joy of the process, always seeking to master her surroundings for maximum freedom. Disliking confinement, she occasionally gives up too quickly. Yet, when she persists, she finds ways to revel in challenges, cherishing the journey more than the destination. Although her plans can seem scattered, she thrives in unpredictability. She’s wary of those who wield power to control others, and in defiance, sometimes exercises her own control to observe the outcomes, which makes her morally grey. She thinks that it's her duty to challenge norms and pioneer change for the greater good when many are chained by ethics and fear, but has her own struggles, sometimes instigating chaos out of boredom.

Looks: Her attire is eclectic, pieced together from items she adores, without much regard for current trends. She sports a white buttoned shirt with teal insides, the sleeves rolled up and the front slightly unbuttoned to show a hint of cleavage. This is paired with a high-waisted, knee-length pleated teal skirt, ¾ leggings, and white Mary Janes with black heels. Her shoulder-length turquoise hair is pulled into a high side ponytail with a few loose strands framing her face. Her expression is vibrant, with large, curious blue eyes. Ne moves with a slight bounce, always seeming to be lost in a daydream and ignoring finer details.

Theme: Freedom. In a world without limitations, anything is possible.

Sienna: Grounded and diligent, Si is a model of consistency. She’s logical, practical, and knowledgeable, balancing her hardworking nature with humility and patience. She upholds tradition, believing that if everyone collaborates harmoniously, all aspirations, including universal comfort and understanding, are attainable. She derives a sense of duty and belonging from viewing herself as part of a whole, even if this sometimes stifles her creativity and subjects her to rigid standards. Si is at peace with her role but occasionally grapples with existential questions for not knowing herself in depth, or maybe suppressing philosophical musings. She values comfort, ensuring she always has moments of relaxation amidst her responsibilities, and appreciates nature and man-made wonders. Si always honors her commitments, but some may perceive her as mundane or lacking ambition.

Looks: Traditional and sensible, albeit slightly outdated. She dons a dark long-sleeved ruffled shirt buttoned entirely, paired with a lab coat, tailored trousers, and oxfords. Sleek glasses frame her earnest eyes. Her dark blonde hair reaches nearly to her waist, meticulously combed and pulled into a low ponytail, with bangs neatly clipped away from her face. While her movements are usually unhurried, she can be agile when needed, displaying remarkable dexterity.

Theme: Predictability. In a stable and comprehensible world, challenges would be preventable or at least manageable.

Felicity: Compassionate and giving, Fe is the embodiment of empathy. She is emotional yet fiercely loyal, often putting others' needs above her own. Her ideal world is one filled with loved ones she can protect and cherish forever. While she enjoys being the center of attention and reciprocated care, she sometimes neglects her needs, leading to periods of resentment. Her emotions can be volatile, especially when faced with disillusionment. Fe spends her days analyzing interpersonal dynamics, immersing herself in ethical discussions, and enjoying moral tales. Affected by poignant movies and easily manipulated, she doesn’t understand the saying, “hell is full of well-intentioned people”.

Looks: A blend of loose and tight-fitting garments. She wears a lilac boho dress that exposes her shoulders and collarbones with silk strips wrapped around her waist, neck, and wrists. Her footwear is burgundy heels with ankle clasps. Her purple hair cascades down her back, held in place by a ribbon, while her face boasts rosy cheeks and expressive eyes.

Theme: Unity. If everyone were the same, there’d be no conflict, and life would be fulfilling regardless of circumstances.

[aparticularbandit]

The Thrall of Magic IX - 2020's (III)

Chapter Summary: When she was eighteen years older, much younger than Wanda is now, Agatha Harkness murdered her entire coven.  It might have been self-defense; it might have been unintentional.  These are things she’s told herself over the years to reassure herself, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened, doesn’t change the fact that her own mother thought her magic so horrendous that she would rather kill her than let her live.

Sometimes, Agatha wants to tell Wanda, magic does horrible things.  Sometimes we do horrible things with it.  Even now, after centuries of study, that has never proven itself to her more than it has now.  A single word out of place, a rune miswritten – magic. is. dangerous.  That’s why the first runes learned are protection spells, that’s why they’re learned under the protection spell of one who already knows how to craft it – because even protection spells, improperly done, can blow up in the caster’s face.

It is right to have a natural fear of magic, but not so much as to avoid—

“You won’t hurt me, hon,” Agatha says, reaching out and placing one hand over Wanda’s, stilling her itching fingers.  “I trust you.”

companion piece to Kisses Through The Decades

Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff Chapter Rating: T Fic Rating: M for dark themes and sexual content

AO3

previous chapter / next chapter

The thing about parties – and the thing about Sarah Proctor – and the thing about Sarah Proctor’s parties is that there’s usually a certain standard of dress.  Agatha knows as she brings her that Wanda, in her certain attire, doesn’t meet that standard.  In fact, even more than that, she knows that Wanda probably did not expect to be seeing anyone other than Agnes in this outfit, because it’s not the sort of thing Wanda would leave the house in…or she would, perhaps, but it had been so long since—

The hoodie really isn’t that much of a problem.  It’s that stupid scarlet color that does her absolutely no favors – for all that Agatha intentionally does not pay attention to the superheroes of any age, she’s noticed how they all have their own unique color and tend to wear that exclusively, which really just makes them dang hard to hide in any situation, and it’s not like anyone thinks about whether those colors are appealing on them – and it’s a hoodie, but that could be played around with.  Lengthen it quite a few inches, and it becomes a hoodie dress, which is even better, particularly paired with leggings or heels or a few of the golden bracelets Agatha herself dangles about one wrist.

Really, it’s the sweatpants.  The ones that look like they haven’t been washed in days.  In fact, Agatha’s pretty sure that one of those stains is from milk, and she’s trying to pretend that there’s not a stench, but on top of all of that, Wanda’s hair is so greasy and dirty that she thinks maybe Wanda hasn’t been showering either.

Which, to be fair, Agatha has been there.  More than once.  Most recently when Cian died and she wasn’t there for it, but she’s not thinking about that.

(Sometimes, Agatha thinks she could have saved them.  It doesn’t matter how many times Cian said that she couldn’t, she still believes that she could have.  Most likely, she would have died, too, or be dragged out into more superhero shenanigans than she ever wanted part of, and really, this was Cian’s fault for knowing precisely how they would die and still going to the chopping block anyway.

But she isn’t thinking about any of that right now.)

No, Agatha’s thinking about the look Sarah gives her when she tells her to find something better for Wanda to wear, thinking about the scrunched upturn of her nose as she notes the same not great smell rising from a witch she knows to be so much more powerful than not showering, thinking about pulling Wanda aside to Sarah’s bedroom and—

Much kinder, gentler things than might be implied by that wording.

“Do you know magic?” Agatha asks in a feigned rushed sort of tone as she sits Wanda on Sarah’s white vanity’s accompanying white stool.  “You’re a witch, right?”  She meets Wanda’s emerald green eyes, searches them the way Agnes would, if she were as Wanda intended her to be.

Magic curls around Wanda as a shield as she refuses to repeat her truth, “Does that…does that matter?”

Agatha places her hands on Wanda’s knees, notes the way the girl flinches at her touch, and pretends that the smell isn’t worse crouching this close to her.  “You can do that clothes changing thing, right, hon?  I saw you do it – when you left.  At least, I…I thought I did….”  She lets her voice trail off, her gaze drop.

“I…I…yes, I can do that, but why does it—?”

“Can you read my mind?”

Wanda flinches.

Agatha gently squeezes Wanda’s knees, ignoring the slight crunch of the fabric beneath her hands.  She explains herself, slow, gentle, as Wanda’s eyes glaze over.  “For clothes, hon.  For something to wear.  You don’t have to go any further than that.  Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Wanda echoes.  Her eyes narrow, gaze hardening.  “Trust you?”

“Yes, hon.  Trust your best friend Agnes, who would never, ever do anything to hurt you.”  Agatha keeps her voice hushed, gentle, each word specific, enunciated.  Her instinct is to dip into magic, even the smallest bit, to reach out for Wanda’s mind to try and calm her thoughts, but she knows better.  No magic.  She lived without it for three months; she can handle this now.  (And still, she feels it around her, can see it thick and hard, conjured around Wanda as a living shield that she couldn’t penetrate even if she tried.)

Wanda hesitates.  Of course, she does; it’s only reasonable.  But she searches Agatha’s eyes, and as she does, she calms.  “I’ll…I’ll try, but Agnes, I can’t—”  She cuts herself off, voice fading.  “I can’t…,” she repeats, still without completing the sentence, lowering her head, gaze landing on her empty, fidgeting hands.

I can be good.

When she was eighteen years older, much younger than Wanda is now, Agatha Harkness murdered her entire coven.  It might have been self-defense; it might have been unintentional.  These are things she’s told herself over the years to reassure herself, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened, doesn’t change the fact that her own mother thought her magic so horrendous that she would rather kill her than let her live.

Sometimes, Agatha wants to tell Wanda, magic does horrible things.  Sometimes we do horrible things with it.  Even now, after centuries of study, that has never proven itself to her more than it has now.  A single word out of place, a rune miswritten – magic. is. dangerous.  That’s why the first runes learned are protection spells, that’s why they’re learned under the protection spell of one who already knows how to craft it – because even protection spells, improperly done, can blow up in the caster’s face.

It is right to have a natural fear of magic, but not so much as to avoid—

“You won’t hurt me, hon,” Agatha says, reaching out and placing one hand over Wanda’s, stilling her itching fingers.  “I trust you.”

Wanda doesn’t look up.  “You shouldn’t.”

Magic parts for her, just as it had before, as Agatha leans up closer, cups Wanda’s cheek, and lifts her head.  She brushes her thumb along her cheek and meets her eyes, noting how Wanda still tries to avoid her gaze.  “I do.”

It isn’t immediate, but Agatha catches it – the way Wanda’s gaze flicks to her lips, how it lingers before she leans forward, letting her head rest against Agatha’s.  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  Then her mind reaches out, feeble at first, uncertain, tentative, until she seems to find her way.  The touch grows stronger.

I want you.

Agatha nearly flinches.  Instead, she shifts, breaking their connection, dropping her hands to Wanda’s ankles, conjuring the image in her mind.  “Can you see it, hon?”

Wanda nods.  “I think so.”

“Good girl,” Agatha purrs.  Then she offers Wanda the easiest smile she can muster, the one Agnes would wear if she were real, even though she can’t see it.  “Only don’t go too far!  There’s some nasty things in there you won’t want to see.”

Wanda lets out a near breathless chuckle.  “Trust me,” she says without thinking, “I won’t.”

And true to her word, she doesn’t.  She doesn’t even try.

Agatha slowly runs her hands up Wanda’s legs, and as she does, Wanda, with her eyes closed, focused entirely on the image Agatha envisions, transforms her sweatpants into thinner caramel tights.  “Wow,” Agatha murmurs in just the tone an awe-struck Agnes would have.  “This is so cool.”  She lets out a low whistle.

Of course, as Wanda’s clothes shift and stretch and sketch themselves into something more in line with Agatha’s design, Agatha makes sure to scrub away any dirt or grime or odor that might linger along Wanda’s skin.  It’s one thing if Wanda doesn’t feel like bathing while she’s been wherever it is she’s been, but a simple change of clothes from something crusty and dirty to something fresh and clean isn’t going to cover everything else, too.  And with Wanda so focused on not delving too far into her mind and on maintaining the magic to make all of these changes, hopefully she won’t even notice.

For a moment, if she lets herself, Agatha notices the way magic plays beneath their combined fingertips, how it stretches as Wanda tugs it one way, how it soothes as she smooths it another.  She pauses, not even realizing that her hands rest a little too easy on Wanda’s waist, just to feel the sensation.  Magic comforts her, and she caresses it; this is less of the familial familiarity they’ve gained over the past three hundred years, less of the easy companionship she’d gained from it, and more the—

“Don’t stop,” Wanda hisses before Agatha can complete the thought.

“Yeah, yeah, right.”

But as she continues to run her fingers up Wanda’s body, as Wanda flinches beneath her, Agatha can’t stop thinking about it.  It’s like it’s on the tip of her tongue, what it was like, but she just can’t—

“There.”

Agatha realizes just how close she’s drawn to Wanda as the unflattering scarlet hoodie finishes shifting into the cream sweater dress she’d designed.  One corner of her lips curves upward.  “That’s finished, hon.  You can open your eyes.”

“Mmhm,” Wanda murmurs, but she doesn’t open her eyes.  Instead, she leans forward just the slightest bit so that her forehead rests against Agatha’s again.  She smiles, almost, and Agatha feels Wanda’s mind retreat, a great fog slowly pulling away from her own.  When she finally does look, her eyes don’t move to her new outfit.  Instead, she brushes strands of hair back from Agatha’s face, tucks them behind her ear, and lets her gaze linger on Agatha’s lips.

Agatha flinches back.

“Sorry,” Wanda starts immediately, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about it, dear.  You’re fine.”  Agatha places her hands on Wanda’s knees and squeezes them gently again.  “Now, about your make-up—”

Wanda gives her a blank stare.  “I can do my own make-up, Agnes.”

“Of course you can, doll.”  Agatha meets her eyes with a mischievous grin.  “This is just more fun.”  Her brows raise.  “Do you trust me?”

There’s a flicker in Wanda’s eyes.  The same sort of hesitation on the tip of her tongue now as before.  Of course, there is.  It only makes sense.  Only a few seconds with Agnes giving her a great outfit – one she hasn’t even seen – can’t change that.

And yet.

“Yes,” Wanda says finally, voice soft, eyes falling to her hands as she tucks them beneath her sleeves.  “I…I trust you, Agnes.”  She glances up, hands spread out, palms open, and meets Agatha’s eyes.  “Do what you want with me.”

This time, when Agatha says, “Good girl,” she feels a shiver up her spine.

She blames it on magic.

~

It’s not as though Agatha hasn’t applied another person’s make-up before.  She’d grown up poor in Puritan Salem, where make-up was banned; the first time she’d even seen a woman wearing anything to change the natural look of her face, she’d been shocked, and the first time she’d seen it after leaving Salem, she’d been equally shocked, surprised that anyone but the sailors’ whores would wear something like that in the bright light of day.  When she admitted as much to her husband, he had the good grace not to laugh at her, but the smile about his lips showed his amusement.  She kissed it from him then, determined to ask one of the women in town to help her apply some of the stuff before his next return – as a joke, mostly, because they couldn’t afford her doing so more than the once, not with—

It hadn’t mattered.  The next time he returned, she wasn’t there waiting for him.

Cian finally taught Agatha the fine art of make-up, using their fingers to brush powders, rouges, everything along her face the way an artist painted a canvas.  She blushed profusely when she saw how beautiful they were able to make her look – not garish like the sailors’ whores had been, but in a way that only enhanced her natural beauty.  Now you can see yourself the way I see you, they’d said, and she’d blushed deeper.

She doesn’t blush now, painting Wanda’s face the same way that Cian once painted hers, using her fingers like a child with finger paint or like an artist trusting the touch of their skin over the unsteady bristles of a brush.

But Agatha Harkness has spent the past few months distancing herself from magic in a successful attempt to drag the Darkhold out of her, and fingers which were previously numbed and deadened have regained the full sensation they should have had the first time they touched the other witch’s skin.  As her fingertips brush along the slope of Wanda’s cheeks, gently setting various powders into place, they tingle with the same, now familiar breath of magic that she hadn’t felt since—

Well.

Stop it, Agatha thinks towards the magic that crawls along her spine.  She’s not supposed to know.  Stop it.

But even when magic pretends to listen to her, that doesn’t stop her from noticing how soft, how smooth, how cool Wanda’s skin is beneath her fingertips, doesn’t stop her from tugging her lower lip between her teeth to try and maintain her focus, doesn’t stop her eyes from wandering along the younger witch’s face for reasons that have nothing to do with the make-up she is applying.

And even then – magic doesn’t really listen because magic doesn’t cower before Agatha the way it cowers before Wanda.  It might refrain from sending sparks along her fingertips, the slightest of burning sensations (comforting in their familiarity) not quite like a livewire through her veins, but that doesn’t mean it leaves her entirely.  Magic curls about her boots, snakes up her legs, wraps itself around her waist as though to draw Wanda’s hands there, should she open her eyes before Agatha finishes, and then settles there, purring like a contented kitten.  If it were anyone – anything – else, Agatha could be convinced that it missed her.

But magic doesn’t miss anyone, and it certainly wouldn’t miss her.

When Agatha finishes, she pauses.  This would be the proper time to step back, to give Wanda one final look, to make sure that she looks just the way that she imagined her.  But instead, she notes the way Wanda’s lips are just slightly parted, the barest of shine drawing her eyes to them, and she leans forward to—

To what?

In this moment, what would Agnes do?

As if she knew what Agatha was thinking, Wanda says, very gently, “Agnes?”

Agatha swallows, brushes the pad of her thumb along Wanda’s lips one last time, and leans back.  “Keep your eyes closed, hon!  Here, hold onto me.”  She stands and helps Wanda to stand before leading her in front of Sarah’s tall mirror.  “Only you’ll have to do something with your hair, dear, because I…I couldn’t do anything about that.”

Not without you catching me out.

It’s the sharp intake of breath that gives Wanda away more than anything, the way her cheeks darken as she looks over herself, as she moves closer to the mirror, the breathless little way she murmurs, “Wow,” under her breath.  Her fingers run through her oily, stringy hair, cleansing it without a second thought, pulling it into much gentler waves.  She whispers it again, “Wow,” before turning to Agatha with wide emerald eyes.  “You made me beautiful.”

Now you see yourself the way I see you.

Agatha gives a little shake of her head.  “You’ve always been that, dear.  You just do a pretty good job of hiding it.”  She takes a deep breath, settling herself, and lets the moment fall just the slightest bit.  “Especially with all that red.  It’s nice, hon, but it does you no favors.”  When Wanda blushes that same scarlet, she chuckles and reaches up just to touch her cheeks.  “No favors, hon.”

This time, Wanda doesn’t flinch back.  Instead, she avoids Agatha’s eyes.  “Thank you,” she murmurs, “for fixing me, but I don’t think how I look will change how people feel about my being here.  I don’t want to ruin your party.”

“You aren’t going to ruin anything, hon.”  Agatha pats her cheek, and her expression softens as her hands move to still Wanda’s fidgeting fingers as they pull her sleeves down about her hands.  “We’re going to go out there and drink a lot and possibly get very drunk – and then Sarah will send us both back before we do ruin anything – but for once in your life, buttercup, you are going to have fun.”

Wanda nods slow once or twice.  Her lips press together, and her head tilts to the side in that familiar way it does as her hands move from Agatha’s to rest on either side of her waist, thumb brushing along the ribbon Agatha intentionally put there just for this occasion.  She wets her lips.  “We,” she whispers, correcting her, “are going to have fun.”

It’s a start.

Agatha reaches up, brushes her fingers light through Wanda’s hair, traces the shape of her face, and then lifts her chin so that their eyes meet.  “You got that right.”  Her gaze lowers—

She feels the sound outside, the rippling along magic of someone who isn’t casting, before she hears it, and she reaches out, brushing the mind of one of her new friends.  Sarah, intent on checking on them.  No harm, no foul.  But now is not the time for an interruption.

Wait.

Agatha sends the thought into Sarah’s mind just as Sarah raises her hand to the door.

Sarah stops, and there’s fear in her thoughts, sharp and cold and blinding, as she thinks, a few seconds past, Why?  What’s…what’s wrong?  Why are you talking to me like this, Agnes; I don’t like it.  Her tone tremors.

Nothing’s wrong, Agatha soothes.  We’ll be with you in a few moments, hon.  I’m almost done.

Of course, of course, but—

“Agnes?”

Agatha breaks her connection with Sarah as Wanda’s voice, however soft, breaks through, and her gaze lowers, focusing on Wanda’s lips.  “Hold on, hon, let me just fix something.” 

As her thumb brushes along Wanda’s lower lip, Wanda’s eyes just close.  Agatha leans up on her toes to brush the tip of her nose against Wanda’s and waits for her to flinch, for her to back away.  Wanda could be scared – scared that Agnes isn’t real, that Agatha has taken her rightful place as herself – but perhaps even more importantly, Wanda could be hesitant, not wanting to force a chained Agatha to live through whatever she might want to do with Agnes.  It’s not quite a test, but that doesn’t stop it from being one – from seeing what corruption the Darkhold has wrought in a young witch who previously had only mistakenly used an entire town to fulfill her desires.

Agatha isn’t sure why Wanda is here, why she came to her, but there’s a mixture within her of that doesn’t matter and it absolutely does.

Magic swirls within her, easy as her uneasy heart.

Wanda doesn’t flinch away.

Agatha crosses the distance between them and kisses her.

Magic sparks around her lips, floods her veins, hot along her skin.  It takes an unspoken second – one Agatha doesn’t even feel, though she notices it – before Wanda kisses her back, hands reflexively tightening on Agatha’s waist.  On instinct, Agatha shifts her hand through Wanda’s hair – magic is there, too, softer, but still humming along her fingertips, under her nails in a soothing manner.  She relaxes.

It’s easy.  It shouldn’t be.

Then Agatha steps back.  Brushes her nose against Wanda’s again.  “Sarah’s waiting for us downstairs, hon.”

“Let her wait.”  Wanda’s thumb presses into the ribbon about Agatha’s waist – gentle, but insistent.  “Or we could…we could leave.  We could go somewhere—”

“And miss the party?”  Agatha chuckles.  “No, no.  I’m not that easy.”  She steps back, out of Wanda’s hands, and reaches up just enough to boop the tip of Wanda’s nose.  “Party first, hon.  Then we can talk about—”

“You’re the one who kissed me—”

“And I’m saying we wait.”  Agatha runs a hand through Wanda’s hair again and smiles, soft up at her.  Then she catches a flash of color threaded through Wanda’s hair – a color that shouldn’t be there – and her eyes widen.  “Hold on, hon, I think I…I think I got some of your lipstick in your hair.  I guess I didn’t think that one through.”  She giggles – giggles like a little girl – and hates the sound of it.

Wanda turns to Sarah’s mirror, threads her hand through her hair, and notes the differences.  “I think you got a little on my nose, too.”  Then she snaps her fingers – just like that, once, a sharp crack of a sound, and they’re back the way they were just before Agatha kissed her, with Wanda’s hands on her waist and—

The door creaks open.

Wanda jumps back, away from Agatha, and hides her face under the swathes of fabric about her neck.

This doesn’t change the fact that the door shouldn’t be opening.  Agatha told Sarah they were almost done, she told her they would be down shortly, but here Sarah is, clearing her throat in a small, embarrassed sort of sound, eyes glaring daggers at Agatha.  She isn’t even supposed to be here.

How much did Wanda change?

Agatha tugs, harsh, on one of the threads of magic entangling her, and she almost hears it sniggering, the way it vibrates against her fingertips.  It isn’t funny, she thinks, wondering if it can hear her if she doesn’t speak aloud.  It isn’t funny at all.

When she clues back in, Sarah’s gaze has turned to Wanda and softened.  “Much better,” she murmurs.  Then she digs her fingers into Agatha’s shoulder – Ow, ow, ow – and drags her out of the room, crooking a finger towards Wanda.  “Come along.  The festivities will start any minute.”

Agatha barely catches Wanda squeaking out, “Festivities?” as Sarah continues to drag her away from the other witch.  She tries to wiggle her shoulder out from under Sarah’s grasp, almost succeeds when they make it to the living room, and finally does after Sarah drags her to a secluded corner.  “I don’t know what you think I did to deserve that, hon,” she starts to say, rubbing her shoulder and rotating it a bit to get the kinks out.

“Were you flirting with her?” Sarah hisses, eyes narrowing.

A normal person might quail under Sarah’s intense, angry gaze, but Agatha has lived through worse things than a suburban white mom’s anger.  Not many things, because those women can be fierce, but some things.  “Funny how you assume I was doing the flirting and not our dear, gentle—”

“Oh, hush, you flirted with her in the Hex, too; don’t lie to me.”

“Of course my flirting with Wanda is what got burned into your mind and not—”

“Quit trying to deflect, Agnes.”  Sarah doesn’t back down.  That’s admirable.  “What was going on in there—”

It doesn’t matter whatever Sarah is trying to say, because she’s cut off when Wanda runs.  By instinct, Agatha reaches out for magic, reaches out with her mind just enough to read the white hot panic filtering through her mind, but she doesn’t have time to make her way to her in an attempt to calm her before Todd Davis makes a stupid joke about Sarah having a witch problem, and then of course, Wanda is running, is out the door, and Sarah, instead of continuing to chide Agatha about something she doesn’t know anything about and wasn’t meant to see, decides to run after Wanda.

And Agatha lets her go.

Instead, Agatha makes her way over to Todd, whose face has grown ashen.  He’s taller than her – taller even than Cian was, though Agatha doesn’t need to think of them now – but she can still tell the difference between the way he hangs his head now and the way he might look down on her if he ever felt the need to do so.  Still, she ribs him just the same way he ribbed Wanda, “Nice joke you told there, hon.”

“I didn’t mean to scare her,” Todd says.  “She’s so powerful.  I never thought she would be afraid.”

Agatha snorts.  “Girl’s a bundle of rubber bands stretched too far.  Just because you can’t hurt her doesn’t mean you can’t hurt her.”  She glances out the window, to where Wanda has stopped, where chaos magic flicks about her fingers, drawn to her fear, and nods her head in her direction.  “Look.  You’re the least of her problems.”

Todd follows her gaze, and in that moment, Wanda glances up, catches them staring at her, and quickly looks away.  It’s possible he doesn’t even notice it, but Agatha does.  As she continues to stare down at her, he says, “I didn’t know she would be here.”

It sounds like an accusation.

“I didn’t know either.  She just showed up on my doorstep.”  Quite like a feral cat looking for a place to curl up and have its kittens, although Agatha won’t mention it that way.  “Sorry I didn’t warn you.”  She can’t keep the bite out of her voice, and maybe it’s because he made Wanda run, maybe it has to do with his reinforcing what Wanda was already afraid of: that everyone, everyone here hates her.  That Sarah’s only letting her join because Agatha – because Agnes – asked.

“You didn’t have to warn us.”  This a different voice – Harold, Sarah’s husband – standing just behind them.  Agatha doesn’t even look up.  He’s a thin waif of a guy with a moustache bigger than his entire frame.  “But you let Sarah go after her.  Alone.”

That sounds like an accusation, too.

A few months ago, Agatha would have responded with a threat.  Even now, she resists the urge to dig her fingers into magic and rip into him with her fingernails – without ever so much as physically lifting a finger against him.  That’s not a threat – that’s direct action that serves as a threat to everyone else around her.  But she lived with these people without magic, people who had every reason to be afraid of her as much as they were of Wanda, and instead, she says, gentle, “Wanda won’t hurt her, hon.”

“I saw that magic—”

Now Agatha looks up, sharp, and cuts him off without a word.  She’s a witch; he cowers beneath her gaze.  (She’s had time to perfect it, after all.)  “If you saw the magic,” she says anyway, tongue as sharp as her gaze, “then you also saw it leave.”  She turns back, staring at Wanda through the window.  The little witch has curled into herself as much as she can, keeps avoiding Sarah’s gaze, looks like the same cat searching for somewhere – anywhere – to run and hide.  “She won’t hurt anyone.”

Todd glances down on Agatha, but there’s no anger or spite in his gaze.  “Are you sure she won’t hurt you?”

Agatha smiles, a small thing, but doesn’t turn away from the window.  “Why would she hurt Agnes?  I’m her best friend, love.”

“Do you know why she’s here?” Sharon asks from where she sits on the couch, shrill voice not nearly as shrill when it’s quiet.  There’s a quiver in it, too; of their little grouping, she’s been the most hesitant to be here at all, to join them.  Cautious.  Uncertain.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Agatha lies, easy as anything, and easy as anything, they believe her.  She’s always been good at lying, and it’s always been easier when the lie is mixed with truth.  She knows that Wanda wants to talk to her.  She has a fairly good idea what Wanda wants to talk with her about.  But she strictly speaking doesn’t know what Wanda wants.

For all intents and purposes, Wanda could be here just to make sure that Agnes curse is still in place.  More to the point, she could be here for Agnes.  Not for Agatha, who isn’t even supposed to really exist as herself anymore, but for Agnes, the creation she thought she’d left in her place.  During the Hex, Wanda had been absolutely certain to make sure she wasn’t taking advantage of Agnes once she understood that she might be; here, now, in that bedroom upstairs, Wanda knew Agatha wasn’t in control and didn’t seem to care much about it in the slightest.

It’s concerning, to be sure.

“If you don’t know why she’s here,” Todd breaks through her thoughts, “then you don’t know she won’t hurt you.  Won’t hurt us.”  The last is tacked on, hurried as though to cover his bases, because Wanda is clearly too scared to intentionally hurt them.

But Agatha is still a threat, a loose end, a hole in her carefully crafted plot.

And she knows it.

Todd clasps her shoulder gingerly.  “You don’t have to say anything.  Just—”

“Be aware?”  Agatha looks up then with an easy smile.  “You don’t have to worry about me, hon.  I can take care of myself.”

When he steps away, Todd takes Harold with him, leaving Agatha to stare out through the window.  Maybe it would be more party conscious for Agatha to join them – or to join Sharon and pretend as though nothing weird is going on outside – or maybe it would be more comfortable for them if she went and joined Sarah, just as additional back-up, even though Wanda wouldn’t know to see it that way, even though Agatha wouldn’t throw herself onto the pyre just to save her new friends.  But she doesn’t do that, instead stares out as Sarah and Wanda’s conversation seems to end, as Wanda starts to follow Sarah back inside.

Wanda glances up, away from Sarah, and meets Agatha’s eyes.  She blushes when Agatha raises a hand and waggles a few fingers at her, and then she quickly looks away.  If it were anyone else, the lack of subtlety would be cute, but on a witch of Wanda’s scale?

It is nothing more than foolishness.

Good thing that Agatha Harkness knows a thing or two about fools.

[limeade-l3sbian]

a part of me, despite being gnc, wants to one day go super full on feminine. maybe it’s because i’ve struggled with self image most of my life, going from starving myself to binging, losing weight, gaining weight, and now i’m obese. i just wanna one day be beautiful and show it off. it’s so pathetic. i’m just so tired of always feeling ugly. sometimes i feel like my gender non conformity comes from the fact that i have simply given up long ago. and that’s not to say people who don’t conform are ugly, but i just am rn due to various unrelated stuff. i wish i could feel love within myself but all i have is contempt. i will probably one day die of obesity and people will look upon my ruined ugly body, my buzzed head, my stretch marks, yet loose skin. and be sickened. i hate the world and what beauty standards have turned me into

this is a long one, anon. buckle in.

“sometimes i feel like my gender non conformity comes from the fact that i have simply given up long ago.”

this part really resonated with me, anon. because as you say, this is not the case for all or even a majority of gnc women. but i resonated with it because that was me. i used to tell my mom when she tired to recommend dresses and skirts that i wasn’t pretty enough to make them work. that the garment itself wasn’t bad, but the body she was trying to attach it to. my whole life was self-defined by my weight, face, and hair. i obsessed over these things. if i could just lose the weight, i would be happy. and if i could just get this and that fixed on my face, i would be halfway there. and finally, if i could just get my hair to grow at an exponential rate, i would be perfect! but until i could figure that out, i was going to hold off of things i really wanted to try.

i think i would call myself pretty androgynous. i fluctuate between the styles commonly associated with gnc women and femme women. or i at least desire to wear them. but i tended to lean more to gnc clothing because i didn’t think i could make the latter work. so i spent years dressing in hoodies, pants, and winter coats. and given i live in the golden state, i was putting myself in serious danger walking around in summer heat with a coat on just because i didn’t want people to be disgusted with my body. when i was 1 nine, my mom told me i should think about joining theater in high school since i liked to act back then. i told her i would never become an actor because i didn’t want some to “have” to kiss me. because that would be so terrible, of course.

you couldn’t tell me shit, anon. i was ugly and that was that. i didn’t want to hear about how i had a great personality and i was funny and blah blah blah. i already knew that. but i wanted to be beautiful. i wanted to be like the girls who subtly bullied me in elementary school. naturally pretty without having to go to the extents that my own family was recommending. to be honest, i retained those feeling all through high school. i had been called ugly in elementary and high school without prompting. i knew i was going to die alone and was trying to make a future around that fact.

when i was 18, i connected with a girl who wanted to go on a date. online dating, so i was terrified. i cried the night before because i just knew this girl was going to see my real face and turn right back around (even though i had intentionally used unflattering pictures of myself on the app and she still swiped right). so we met up, and the first thing she did was offer me her jacket because some unanticipated rain had started to fall. she’s just being nice, i told myself, and declined. i was probably too big to fit her jacket anyway.

skip forward and we’re at a coffee shop. i am mid story about the tarantula hawk (super cool bug btw) and this girl puts her hand out to touch mine when i am showing her how it moves. she’s been staring at me this whole time. i barely realize and remember that this is a date. i had been so sure that she didn’t see me that way that i had decided to treat it like lunch with a friend and here is this girl who is attracted to me, listening to my dumb rambling, and when i ask her why she swiped right, she becomes bashful and says, “i thought you were cute. and kinda dorky, which i like.”

cue the fucking explosion in my head. big fucking shocker lmao. the girl who had been staring at me and cursed in irritation when i had to pay for one thing on our three hour long date liked me. me. the “ugly, chubby” girl who wore glasses and didn’t know how to shut up about tarantula hawks. @divinedionne said something that really resonated with me one time, and it was that black people in america didn’t really understand how traumatic it can be to be surrounded by a beauty standard that directly contrasts your natural features (not verbatim). i didn’t think that i was ugly because i was black, but i did think that i would always be seen as ugly by those around me because of that. so i never gave myself a chance. should i have given myself a chance before someone else gave me that validation? yes. but i think you and i can relate in the fact that sometimes you just need that external uplifting. you need someone other than family or a friend to tell you you’re beautiful.

chubby? stretch marks galore? loose skin? i’ve got your number, anon. i’ve got it all. and what i’m telling you is that you have been lied to. it’s been screamed in your face either in person or through media that you are in some way disqualified from the game of self love. i was sitting right there with you a few years ago, watching everyone else be happy while i had resigned myself to “the truth”. and it is bullshit, anon. it is the smelliest horse shit.

there was a strawberry dress that was popular a year ago. i found it at a thrift store for waaaay for like ten bucks and bought it. i just wear it around the house. it isn’t for anyone but me. it is for my whimsical ass to make a tuna sandwich in while i listen to country music and inhale a bottle of limeade. it isn’t about anyone else but me. you want to wear more feminine shit? fucking do it, anon. own that shit. there isn’t a fucker alive who can dictate your worth or beauty. you want to lose weight the healthy way. girl, you can message me and we will look for healthy ways to do it together. you want to know how to look traditionally feminine with a buzz cut? i got news for ya anon, there are reference pictures galore out there and i will post them for you if you want.

don’t waste your time like i did. don’t spend hours crying and thinking you’re less than. i wasted so much time doing that only to enter the world and be embraced without hesitation. you wear what you want, you have your hair how you want, you present how you want. you have been lied to, anon. this is a trick, a lie, a deception to keep you lower than you were ever meant to be.

you. have. been. lied. to.

there is no such thing as a fucking ruined body. you are not ruined. no woman is ruined. you are not ruined. read that last sentence again. i hate that shit more than anything because it implies that women are meant to retain a certain state of being that appeases men’s visual aesthetics. and if you were ready to give up, you wouldn’t have hit my askbox knowing that i was going to tell you otherwise.

because you know you’re worth something and you know you are not the problem.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hoodie

Summary: Several years after your break up with Steve, a hoodie in your car leads to a reconnection

Features/Warnings: Slight angst; Fluff; AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Notes: Day Six of Steve week! Featuring an AU! Based on Cassadee Pope’s song Hoodie.

Word Count: 1642

The crisp autumn air had you in a good mood. You were finally cleaning out the car you’d had since high school, getting ready to sell it. It wasn’t a total mess, but there were things that you had never taken out of it, too lazy, too busy, too this, too that, to ever properly clean the car out. It had been years since you graduated. You had finished college and moved towns. You kept contact with a small group. Natasha, Wanda, and Sam were three of your best friends, the only ones you really still spoke to.

You had dated Steve Rogers, captain of both the ice hockey and baseball teams your senior year. The two of you had been inseparable since childhood, together from the awkward days of the seventh grade until you broke up three days after graduation. You had moved across the country for school. It hurt. You had thought you’d be that couple, the high school sweethearts who went the distance. With your breakup, you stopped talking to him, to Bucky, to Tony and Clint too. It was natural with time and distance.

You knew Sam, Tasha, and Wanda were still friends with him. You knew from Tasha that his number was still the same. You also knew he was single. You tried not to dwell on that, on the what ifs. You had decided you weren’t going to contact him. It had been too long. It would be too weird. You weren’t far from home, but you were living in the city now, which was what had prompted you to finally sell your car. You were fortunate enough to have a driveway but it was more of a hassle than it was worth to drive.

That car had seen ups and downs. It had seen you crying after homecoming senior year when Dot spilled fruit punch on you intentionally, ruining your dress. But it wasn’t the dress you were crying over. It was her words, the fact that she would do something like that. It had seen you laughing in the backseat with Steve when the two of you snuck away from the group that summer when you’d gone to the lake, wanting time away from your friends. Steve had broken up with you from the passenger seat, when you were dropping him back at his house after bringing his car to the shop.

You were startled when you found an old hoodie of his, the name of your high school emblazoned across the front with the mascot and the word hockey, his name and number on the back. You had had that one since sophomore year, giving it back every so often after washing it, for Steve to wear it for a couple days before you ‘stole’ it back. You sniffed it out of habit, surprised to find that there was still the subtle hint of something that was distinctly Steve. Maybe it was in your head. Maybe it wasn’t. But in that moment, the memories flooded back. You pulled it over your head, feeling like you were seventeen again.

You: Found your hoodie in my car

You sent the text, and immediately regretted it. It was too forward. Too much. You hadn’t spoken to him in so long. What if he didn’t have your number anymore? Before you could go too far down that road, your phone buzzed with a text.

Steve: Didn’t expect to hear from you today

Steve: I mean it’s just been a long time

Steve: How are you?

The texts had a couple minutes between them, making you chuckle to yourself. Some things, it seemed, had never changed.

You: Good, good

The two of you spent the afternoon talking. It was as if you had never fallen out of step with one another. You were surprised to learn he was in the city too. Working days as an elementary school art teacher, while doing lessons on the side when he wasn’t preparing to show his own art. It was something Steve had always wanted to do. You were happy for him.

You were still texting him that night as you got ready for bed. He told you he was single, something you had known already, not that you would have admitted it. You had already known Bucky was serious with Natasha. Nat was still one of your best friends. The two of you made plans to meet up for coffee the next afternoon, a Sunday. You were surprised to find out that he frequented the same hole in the wall shop as you. The two of you managed to never run into each other, your schedules never aligning.

You were fine, until you started panicking about what you would wear, how you would act, and if it would be awkward. It had been years since you had last seen Steve. You found yourself calling Natasha.

“You rarely call this late. What’s going on?” Natasha asked. You glanced at the clock. It was just past ten. You knew Bucky was out of town visiting his sister with his parents. Natasha normally would have joined, but work was keeping her busy.

“I’m meeting Steve for coffee tomorrow. I have no idea what to wear or if it’ll be awkward. Nat this was a mistake,” you rambled.

“Hold on a second. You’ve been talking to Steve?” she asked.

“I texted him today when I was cleaning out my car. I found an old hoodie of his,” you explained.

“How often do you clean out your car that you never found it after all this time?” she asked. You sighed.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Really?” you questioned.

“It’s a valid question. But now it makes sense why he was suddenly glued to his phone when we were at Sam’s,” she explained.

“Right, he needed help moving stuff today,” you recalled.

“But back to the more important thing here. You and Steve were talking today?” she asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t think he was going to text back. And then one thing led to another and we’re grabbing coffee tomorrow to catch up and god I feel like I’m back in high school,” you said.

“I’m going to video call you. We’ll figure this out so you stop stressing. This is Steve we’re talking about. He’s been just as hung up on you as you are on him. You could wear a burlap sack and he’d still love it,” she said.

“I am not hung up on him,” you defended. You heard her snort as she broke out in laughter.

“And I’m married to Prince Harry. We can both lie here. Come on, we’ll get this sorted,” Natasha replied.

The next morning you were nervous as you locked the door to your place. It wasn’t a long walk to the coffee shop. You spotted him as soon as you walked in. He had two cups of coffee in front of him. He looked toward the door as he heard the bell above it ring, waving you over. You smiled when you saw he still remembered your coffee order.

“You look, beautiful as ever,” he said. His cheeks flushed. He was still the same Steve in that regard. He was always so cautious about not crossing any boundaries.

“Still a charmer, I see,” you teased. You lost track of how long the two of you sat there talking. After you both finished your coffee, you stood. Steve held his arm out to you and you didn’t hesitate to loop yours through his. The two of you walked through the neighborhood, still talking about anything and everything.

“It feels like no time passed,” he said, a tinge of regret in his tone.

“And yet we’ve both changed. Both grown. I’ve missed this,” you admitted.

“Communication’s a two way street. And neither of us chose to take the chance to walk down it until now,” he replied.

“I was so angry in the wake of our breakup. And then I was hurt. And you were seeing other people and it felt like another stab to the heart. Because you moved on so quickly,” you told him. He sighed.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I felt like you were going so far away, that you were going to meet someone who had bigger aspirations than being an art teacher, that you’d realize you were wasting your time with me. It’s no excuse. I was eighteen and so stupid,” he said. You laughed.

“I can’t think of a single one of us who had life figured out at eighteen. I’d like to think that this was something we needed. Time apart to grow. I don’t know where we’re going, Steve. But I do know I don’t want another day to pass without you in my life, be it as a friend or more,” you said.

“I don’t want that either. I’ve missed you far too much to make that mistake a second time,” he replied. As the two of you walked, you arrived home, only to learn Steve lived just down the block. In your mind, too many things had aligned to pull the two of you back together to ignore. As you walked up the steps to your door, you turned to face Steve. He brought a hand to your cheek. A subtle nod from you led to his lips on yours, an electrified feeling passing between the two of you.

As you parted ways, he promised to text you as soon as he got home. And he did. You squealed as you moved around your living room, hopeful about a new chapter beginning in the story of you and Steve Rogers. His hoodie sat on a chair, the sunlight casting a glow as you began to plan a date with him, the pieces finally falling back into place.

Bonus Text Message Image of their initial reconnection:

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Would it be to much to request the safe house crew with a non-binary S/O? Maybe how they help their S/O when they’re feeling dysphoric or something? 🥺👉👈

Aw, of course! Sorry ik you've been waiting a while for these, but I do hope you enjoy them :)

Adler

He is a wonderful listener and is always there for you if you want to talk about your dysphoria

Additionally, he doesn't try and act like your dysphoria is something he needs to "fix" for you

Instead he tries to keep pressure and question barrages off of you and just listens

While he does understand that this is something only for you to handle, he of course will always offer you any help if he can!

This is perhaps the one and only question he will ask you often when it comes to your dysphoria

He hopes he isn't badgering you or overwhelming you, but he would do anything to make you feel as comfortable in your skin as he can

Hudson

Hudson is surprisingly learned on both the topics of the gender spectrum as well as things just like your dysphoria

He may seem stoic and a stick in the mud, but information is his business, and how much more important is it when it's something that he can use to help you?

His mind is like a steel trap, and somehow he never seems to forget or slip up on your pronouns

Also, he's very keen on working said pronouns into his sentences when he introduces you to others (that is, if you don't introduce yourself first!)

However, he can be a little snippy with others if they misgender you

He doesn't mean to embarrass you or cause a little scene, he's just a bit over protective

Lazar

Aw, this big, soft boi is the definition of supportive!!!

Lazar is the emotionally warm type of person and shows a very genuine interest and concern when you tell him about bad dysphoria days or issues in general

He defiantly does what he can to ask what he can do for you to help, but his secret weapon is giving you his big, baggy clothes to wear

While he does know it's not quite the same thing, Lazar knows how it feels to wish you could just make your body disappear, you know?

Not look at it, not feel it, not have others perceive it...

He was bullied a lot as a kid for being a little chonker back in the day and even now he struggles with saggy skin and some extra padding where he wish there wasn't

So needless to say, he has a stash of thick, lorge hoodies and sweats that he would be more then happy to give you if you'd like :)

Mason

Mason also knows a thing or two about having your brain and body out of sync

Again, while not really in the same way, he does have the benefit of knowing things he wishes others would do or say to him when he feels uncertain about himself

He spares no effort to be there for you and support you in the outside world when he can

You can always count on him to use your pronouns in front of others and give gentle correction if a stranger misgenders you

Also, he has a sixth sense of sorts that lets him know when you're just feeling too overwhelmed by a situation and he won't hesitate in the slightest to get you away from an uncomfortable place and back safe at home if that's what you want

He is also extremely patient, and during those time where you need to bring yourself back down from being too overwhelmed, he can sit with you for several hours at a time of need be

He'll do whatever it takes to help you. Always.

Park

Like Adler, Park's main power is her ability to listen and give vocal support, especially in front of others

Although, he talk it out sessions are probably the best as they consist of a cozy, blanket and pillow atmosphere as well as some tea and snacks

She's very through and very serious in he desire to give you a safe and comfortable place about things that weigh heavily on your mind

Plus, it's a natural life style of hers to have things cute and comfy, so you never have to worry about a whole set up going on when all you want to do is talk lol

I also feel like Park is particularly interested in activism and being progressive, so you can aaaaalways count on her to attend any rallies or marches that you may be interested in going to!

And even if that's not quite your style, she's been known to drop some donations here and there where it can be put to use to create more gender neutral environments in the hope that one of these days you don't have to deal with potentially dysphoria triggering atmospheres everywhere you go

Sims

I feel like Sims is the type that wasn't raised with much knowledge about the LGBTQ+ community or any of the issues they deal with tbh

However, now that he's an adult, he's extremely interested in learning what he can and picking up information so he can be a better ally

You may potentially feel a little overwhelmed from time to time with his questions or at times when you may have to repeat something you've already told him, but he really tries his best not to bother you too much with heavy things like that

With that in mind, he enjoys being able to listen to you speak when you want to talk about your dysphoria or gender identity in general

This not only gives him an opportunity to glean information to hold onto for the future, but it also of course opens up a gateway for him to attempt to provide you with any help or support he can offer

After all, as invested as he is in his quest for knowledge, his number one priority is you!

Woods

Woods is sort of in the same boat as Sims in that he wasn't raised with much info about the LGBTQ+ community

However, I feel like Woods is a little less intense in his desire to catch up on what he missed out on then Sims is

This is not at all to say that he doesn't care to learn more, just that he's more willing to take things slow and learn from what you have to share with him rather then bombarding you with random questions he comes up with

I'd say that he pours his intensity into his protective nature over you instead!

He's like Hudson turned up to 11 when it comes to correcting others about your gender identity and fending off those who might seek to intentionally bother you over it

He really does try to not cause a scene, but...

Some people just really get under his skin, you know?

You safety and comfort is his number one priority, and unfortunately, he tends to think with his fists

However, even he knows his limits and he's even slowly starting to learn to catch on to when you really actually do want to just leave, so he's been getting better at just walking away and taking you home instead :)

[mc-lukanette]

Luka smiled, waiting patiently at the front of the school. The doors were open, so he could see Juleka and Rose conversing with another student before slowly making their way out to him.

Ivan was also inside with Mylene, the latter of whom Luka vaguely knew from the times she'd show up to see their band practice. Ivan waved to her, then headed out after Rose and Juleka.

Luka only leaned a little as he looked inside again, trying not to make it obvious what he was doing. He just couldn't see Marinette anywhere.

As Ivan, Rose, and Juleka stopped in front of Luka, they frowned as they glanced at each other. They turned their heads, as though looking for something—someone—then met the other's gaze.

"She wasn't with you?" Ivan asked.

Rose shook her head. "She wasn't with you either?"

They'd meant to meet with Marinette that day. They were supposed to go back to the houseboat to hang out a little before practicing. It wasn't like Marinette was part of their band, but she was part of the soul, and they loved having her around.

"I didn't see her," Juleka murmured worriedly. "But she dropped this on her way out of class."

She held out something that everyone immediately recognized: a feather. Marinette was practically known for them, so they knew it belonged to her.

In fact, that feather in particular was one they'd associate only with her. It was rather large for a bird's feather and the sheer purity of the white color was indescribable, meaning that it stood out as something special. They'd also only seen such a feather around her before, so it was natural to make the connection.

Luka stood there silently, his eyes not leaving the school doors. Marinette wouldn't have run off without telling them, and it wasn't like there were any akuma nearby. She wasn't the type to dawdle either, her body often on the move just like her mind was.

...Something was wrong.

Without a word, Luka passed the three and headed into the school. There were a few students lingering around, talking to each other, but otherwise, the area was largely empty.

It meant that it was just empty enough for Plagg to feel safe and pop out of his hoodie. “Looking for your girlfriend~?” he teased, lounging along Luka’s shoulder.

Luka shot Plagg the best look he could given Plagg’s placement, earning a snort from him. Still, it was enough to get him to retreat back into the hood.

Luka focused back on the task at hand and walked about, his eyes scanning each and every door in hopes of seeing Marinette somewhere. He considered asking Juleka to call her, but Marinette's phone would probably be on silent, so he wouldn't be able to hear it.

Thus, he focused only on finding her. He listened closely, blocking out any and all distractions so that he could keep his head clear.

He was searching for her song. If he were honest, he'd rarely tried to do it in this way before - considered how invasive it seemed - but he was concerned and maybe a little desperate.

Then, as he walked steadily around the school, he caught onto a note. It was just a single note, but he knew; he knew it belonged to her.

He tried to locate the source, walking close to where he thought it might be coming from. As he approached one door in particular, more notes filled his mind, fitting together to make a small portion of Marinette's song.

However, the string instruments were off. The tempo was shaky. There was a pause between the notes where there'd normally be none at all.

Beyond the door, he knew that Marinette was scared, and Luka was officially worried. He grabbed the handle, testing it and noting that it wasn’t locked despite the lights being off.

Without hesitance, Luka opened it. Almost immediately, a small voice cried out, "W-wait! D-don't come in!"

He froze. The voice was definitely Marinette's, but her voice and her song were telling him two completely different things.

After a moment of internal debate, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Marinette?"

"...L-luka?"

His eyes took in the floor, which was littered with white feathers that were exactly like the Juleka had. It was like a trail, drawing Luka's eyes further into the room as the feathers seemed to increase in quantity the farther back he looked.

He stepped forward as he tried to follow the trail. Finally, his eyes locked on the hunched over form in the back of the classroom, practically braced against the back wall. Though the windows didn't reach all the way to the back, there was more than enough light to see.

And there, he saw Marinette, who was looking back at him with wide eyes while her black jacket laid a small distance away, but what drew Luka's attention more was what was on jer back.

At first, he could hardly process it, but he could undeniably see wings, like what one might see on a picture of an angel. He was speechless, trying to fathom how he never could've known about or seen them before. Marinette hadn't told him, and Juleka certainly never mentioned—

A nervous breath from Marinette cut off Luka's thoughts. She was still crouched down near the back of the room, her body shaking as a few more feathers fell from her wings.

Luka approached her, covering ground quickly as he thought of how to tend to her. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew that Marinette needed help, and that was all the prompting he required.

He knelt down in front of her, hands raised just slightly to show that he was offering his assistance. "Marinette..."

She looked at him with surprise, then shuddered before averting her gaze. "I..."

He remained still, letting her take in every ounce of his attention.

"...I can't hide them when they're molting like this," she finished.

He glanced at her wings, then the feathers all over the floor. Her fallen jacket now made sense, as its tightness likely couldn't withstand such massive wings trying to bust out. Idly, he also noticed that the back of her white shirt had been designed specifically not to cover the area around her shoulder blades, leaving the fabric completely untouched by the wings coming out.

"I-I wanted to bind them," she admitted quietly, "but I lost track of time. I..."

Luka eyed the volume of her wings. "...Wouldn't that hurt you?"

She glanced up at him, brows raised. She opened her mouth, closed it in hesitance, then opened it again. "A-aren't you mad?"

The idea of him being angry with her was almost unthinkable. Rather, she always had the ability to put his mind at ease, and he could never imagine actually becoming upset with something she did.

Thus, he shook his head. "No. I could never, Marinette."

She blushed, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. Then, with a glance over her shoulder at her wings, she sighed. "I don't have time to take care of all the feathers, so they're stuck like this." She stared at the floor apologetically. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know it'd happen today. I really wanted to hang out with you and the rest of Kitty Section..."

Luka eyed her wings thoughtfully, trying to gather all the knowledge he could from the little information she'd given him. If she still wanted to come with them, he'd do whatever he could to make that happen.

After a moment of pause, he turned his attention to his jacket and started to remove it.

Marinette looked at him, quickly becoming flustered. "W-what are you doing?"

He set his jacket aside, then began to remove his hoodie as well. With a look of reassurance, he offered it to Marinette. "Will this work?"

She gaped, staring down as the mass of dark blue fabric. He could see the gears steadily turning in her head despite her shyness on the matter.

"...Y-yeah." She reached out, taking the hoodie in her hands. "Yes, this'll do."

She smiled, her eyes shimmering as she clutched the fabric to her chest. She looked up at him, glowing with gratitude. "Thank you."

Luka felt his face heating up, but maintained enough of his calm demeanor to smile back and nod his head. Though, he perhaps turned around a bit too quickly to start gathering up the feathers on the floor. He just hadn't been prepared for her to look at him... like that.

Roughly a minute passed, Luka taking care not to leave any trace of feathers on the floor. His arm contained a small bundle of all the feathers he'd gathered, though dumping them into Marinette's backpack seemed like a messy decision.

"Here."

Luka turned, looking back as Marinette slid her open jacket across the floor to him. She was now wearing his hoodie, the hood hanging over her head despite the clothing clearly being too large on her.

Luka's gaze lingered on her, then redirected to the open jacket on the floor. He dumped the feathers inside, and Marinette followed up by meticulously folding her jacket over the feathers, even tying the sleeves around it to make it a carefully contained bundle. It was at that point that Luka noticed that she’d tucked his hoodie into her capris, acting as a "net" of sorts to catch any fallen feathers from her wings.

His blush deepened. Cute and smart was a very dangerous combination and she pulled it off expertly.

Marinette smiled at the bundle in her hands, satisfied, then slipped it carefully into her backpack. She zipped it up, then took a relieved breath before looking over at Luka. "S-so... does it look okay?"

As she intentionally turned her back to him, Luka observed how his hoodie fit around her wings. She seemed to be keeping her wings against herself well enough, though looking too long at her back made the fact that there was something there more and more obvious.

Marinette, seeming to notice how unsure he was, glanced back herself. "Yeah. I'm not too confident in it," she admitted. "There needs to be something else to help draw people's eyes away."

Luka offered his jacket, but Marinette shook her head at him, implying that it wasn't what she meant. Given that, he opted to slip the jacket back on over his shirt, though it felt a little weird without his hoodie in-between them.

He stood, taking one final glance around the room to check for feathers. When he saw none, he turned back to Marinette, offering his hand to help her up.

She smiled at him, reaching out to take him up on the offer, but stopped just before her hand touched his. She paused, appearing to think as she stared at his hand like it was a piece of a puzzle.

Luka blinked, but waited patiently for her.

Finally, she blushed, becoming suddenly sheepish about making eye contact with him. Averting her gaze to the wall, she set her hand in his. "I-I suppose... maybe... you could wrap your arm around me?"

It took Luka a second to realize what she'd just asked of him, but thinking about it, it made sense. People were more likely to be drawn to his arm around her rather than any inconsistencies in how his hoodie looked on her.

As he helped her up, she stammered shyly, "I-I mean, you don't have to, of course, but—"

Luka said nothing, but smiled at her, holding out an arm as if he was waiting for her to snuggle close to him.

Her face reddened. She looked like she wanted to re-insist that he didn't have to, but she did no such thing. Instead, she turned to her backpack, bending down briefly to pick it up.

She stared at him, a hint of desire in her eyes, then slowly stepped towards him. Luka wrapped his arm around her thusly, hugging her to his side as gently as he could. Though she tensed up a bit, her smile gave away that it wasn't because he'd made her uncomfortable.

He glanced down at the backpack in her hands, imagining that it'd be awkward to carry it all the way to their destination. Reaching towards it with his free hand, he offered, "May I?"

Marinette looked up at him, then to his hand, then down to the backpack. "O-oh! Um... are you sure?"

He nodded. For her, he was always sure.

With a grateful smile, she passed him her backpack. Since his other arm was already occupied with holding her close, he simply slipped the right strap through his arm, letting the backpack hang loosely on his back.

As he glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that the backpack wouldn't be jostled too much, he felt a pressure against his side. Looking over, he noted that Marinette had indeed pressed herself against him.

Her face was red, but she looked happier than he'd ever seen her before.

"Thank you," she said softly. "If anyone had to know about this, I'm glad it's you."

Luka's heart skipped a beat, and it was the only time he could really say that he was okay with a missed note. He didn't know how else to respond other than pulling her closer, wordlessly assuring her that he was glad as well.

She hummed with content, then stepped forward, Luka matching her pace as they headed for the door.

He'd have a lot of explaining to do once they met up with the rest of Kitty Section, but it was infinitely worth it, especially with the way Marinette's song sang ever free-er in his presence.

[risualto]

Strange, Familiar Magic (Speaker)

Title: Strange, Familiar Magic Summary: There’s probably something to be said here about the red string of fate, but all Angus would like to do with it is play, thanks very much.  Warnings: None. Notes: The @speakergame Discord server was in dire need of Li fluff, so I stole @tpcignits‘s Speaker, Elizabeth, whose gamestate includes Liam, and this was born.  Someone should give me a prompt for Lily because the next fic I’m writing also includes Liam.  (Open invitation.)

Also here on AO3.

 “She’s a familiar, not a housecat, Ellie,” Liam was saying, but Ellie recognized that particular tone of voice, the one that came up when Liam was just determined to be right instead of actually being right.

She looked down at the cat on the old couch between them, eyebrows raised so high she knew it made her face look ridiculous as she watched Angus nuzzle into the palm of her hand, long strands of fur slipping between her fingers.  “The nature of cats is universal, Li,” she said, hand slipping under Angus’s chin to scratch very softly up her neck.  “She’s purring.  Pretty sure that’s proof!”

Li just sighed, flopping dramatically back onto the couch.  “Cats purr when they’re nervous, too, you know.”

“So you admit she’s a cat!”

Liam spluttered.  “No, what--”

“Besides, she’s connected to you, right?” Elizabeth said, the hand not petting Angus falling onto the couch by Liam’s thigh so she could lean closer (and not thinking about that closeness, nope, not right now).  Her voice fell to a conspiratorial, shocked whisper.  “Liam M. Cowles, are you saying I make you nervous?”

“Maybe,” Liam answered, arching up so their noses were touching.  Elizabeth was so enamored of the blush that Li couldn’t hide on his pale skin, especially not this close, not to mention the way his voice grew tight and eyes crossed to look at her (just like his cat), that the smirk on his lips went unnoticed.  “Nervous you’ll crush Angus, anyway.”

It wasn’t like their bodies were super close together, like this, but clearly, Angus did not think she had enough space if the indignant meow she let out was any indication.  Elizabeth looked down suddenly, starting to pull away (just because she had a dog, or whatever the technical classification for their demon was, didn’t mean she did not understand the cardinal rule of cat ownership: it’s the cat’s house, and you just live in it).  And there was the perfect distraction as Liam reached over and poked her hard in the ribs.

“Liam!” Elizabeth swatted at his hand, missing intentionally as she stood up.  “More like nervous I’ll bring up your favorite hoodie aga--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam said, crossing his arms as Elizabeth moved across the room to where the skein of red yarn had been left after their friends’ latest brainstorming session.

“Someday I will have photographic evidence, and then you will be at my mercy,” she said.  It didn’t take too long to measure out an arm’s length of the string.

“Luke will burn them.”

“Bold of you to assume Luke isn’t on my side.”

Elizabeth punctuated her statement with a soft snip of the scissors, cutting the red string free and then wiggling it between two fingers.  Exactly as predicted, she saw Angus’s ears twitch slightly as the cat looked towards her.  “If I can get your cat, I can definitely sway your brother,” she said, coming back to the couch just as Angus jumped off of it and down to the carpet.

“You planning to bribe him with string, too?” Liam asked, rolling his eyes.

Elizabeth sat back down, then realized the string was too short to keep Angus safely away from her feet like this.  “I can’t tell you all my secrets,” she said coyly.  After a second of consideration, she pulled her feet up onto the couch, then laid sideways so that her arm and the string could flop onto the carpet and into Angus’s reach.  “There you go,” she hummed, whipping the yarn into patterns for Angus to chase.

For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the little pap-pap-pap of Angus’s paws on the old carpet and the occasional breathy laugh as she did something that looked impossible if not for the immutable truth that cats were actually liquid.  At some point, Liam must have remembered that he did technically have an excuse to come over that wasn’t Elizabeth’s obviously stellar company.  When she looked up, at least, she noticed a book in his lap that hadn’t been there before.  But he wasn’t reading it.  He was looking at her.

Or, rather, had been, because as soon as Elizabeth looked up, his eyes darted back to the book, then bounced to his cat, then back to the book, and Elizabeth couldn’t help laughing.  “What?” Liam asked, the blush returning with a vengeance.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth hummed, tucking her feet up against Li’s leg as she shifted a little on the couch.

Angus, impatient to have further attention lavished on her, bapped Ellie’s hand where it had fallen still, dangling by the couch.  “Okay, okay,” she laughed, going back to making the string into acceptable prey for Angus.

“You know she’s going to expect this from you now, right?” Liam asked, and there was something soft in his voice that made Elizabeth wish she’d still been looking at him when he spoke.  Still, even just a quick glance revealed a smile in his eyes that was as teasing as it was warm.

Looking away from the yarn for a split second as Angus pounced was all the cat needed to yank the red string from her fingers and begin to tear it to shreds with the utmost glee.  Elizabeth laughed.  “I think I can live with that,” she said, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Angus was smiling, too.

[nagitoandkokichioneshots]

Mornings with Nagito

Mod Mikan: For the lovely @mrsjenkinspendragon that won 1st place in my 100 follower raffle! Congrats again, love! I didn’t know exactly what to write, so I bring you fluffy morning headcanons! I hope you enjoy! I’m also sorry this turned out kinda short!

-Living with Eva’s beloved boyfriend, Nagito Komaeda, meant that there was never a day where surprises or adventures took place. Even a simple, lazy mornings like the one today, was filled with bliss and joy from the two lovers tangled in each other’s limbs, smiling in their sleep. Who knows? Maybe they were having dreams about each other

-The day would usually start off with Nagito waking up. He’d smile down at his angel, who was still fast asleep in her side of their shared bed. He ran a lanky hand through her locks, muttering a praise about her beauty. God, he was truly a lucky man. She was friendly, energetic, bright, honest, and beautiful! What was there not to adore about her? 

-He felt his long-term girlfriend shift in her sleep, twisting her body towards Nagito’s side. With her eyes still closed, she let out the cutest sigh that filled her boyfriend’s ears like smooth classical music, sending a swift wave of serotonin to his brain. His adorable smile grew into a wider one, as he pressed his chapped lips onto her forehead

-He twisted his head to see the time on the wall clock, both hands signaling that it was exactly 6:45 am. A sigh of relief escaped his breath, relieved that he still had some time left before his beloved hope woke up. With caution, he creeped out of their shared bed, the squeaking of the mattress filling the empty space of their bedroom. However, the sleepy actress was still snoozing lightly, pulling the sheets towards her body

-Practically throwing on his jacket, the white haired male couldn’t help but mentally laugh at the delightful sight of his angel sleeping. She was always one to take advantage of the weekends and sleep in He thought to himself, zipping up his loafers. Still proceeding with wariness, he grabbed his keys and exited their bedroom, making his way towards his car that was parked in the basement of their apartment building 

-What could Eva’s hope obsessed boyfriend be up to this morning? Well, as stated before, mornings with Nagito almost always contained a spontaneous shocker that awaited the actress, whether it would be waking up to gifts surrounding the bed, maybe a few love letters and notes that could easily pass for Nagito’s future wedding vows. Sometimes, Nagito would order breakfast for her and amaze her with a small ‘breakfast-in-bed’ date, with an even more serene day to follow with the already rapturous morning

-”Hmmm?” A soft mummer escaped from the Ultimate actress’s lips, follower by a soft hand rubbing her groggy eyes. Eva looked around the bed she shared with her boyfriend, but disappointment filled her as she found his side of the bed empty. However, that despondency only lasted a second, as it was rapidly replaced with confusion. She may have not seen her boyfriend, but she found a small note that contain a neatly written letter in blue ink. She grabbed the note, mumbling what it said under her breath

Come to the living room, my beloved hope! I have a surprise for you

-Nagito ♥️

-A smile crept upon Eva’s beautiful face. Dating Nagito came with many bombshells, both good and bad. Sometimes, Nagito’s luck would’ve put a damper on surprise dates or presents that the infamous luckster put a tremendous amount of effort in creating. Nevertheless, there were the good surprises that certainly made up for the downfalls. Especially as time went on, the relationship became more stable and Nagito’s luck didn’t effect him or his girlfriend as much as it did in the beginning. Pushing aside the bad/unlucky days where Nagito needed time to himself, they were deemed ‘the softest and cutest couple alive’. Or well....Sonia and Mahiru squealed and enthused that they were the most adorable pair of lovebirds they’ve seen 

-Smiling to herself with these thoughts in mind, Eva straightened out the oversized hoodie that once belonged to her boyfriend, now acting as her pjs for most nights. She allowed her body one last stretch before heading to the designated area

-When she finally arrived, her rubbed her eyes one last time before focusing her field of vision on her boyfriend lying on their couch. Surrounding him was a bunch of presents wrapped in cyan wrapping paper, tied with black bows. Two frail hands covered a pair of pink lips that curled into a smile, along with tears streaming from her face. Before Eva could say anything, Nagito rushed up to her, wiping the forming tears from her face

-”Love,” He smiled gently, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. He pulled back, looking as beautiful as ever with his ever-so calming expression. A veiny hand rummaged through the front pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a small brown box

-”Don’t cry, my hope. I got you these presents cause I wanted to make you happy. And I wanted to hand present this to you personally,” A joyous chuckle left Nagito’s lips, as he finished his explanation. His girlfriend sniffled back her remaining salty tears before nodding quietly, bliss overfilling her body. If she didn’t beam with hope from the sweet message Nagito left on his side of the bedroom, this certainly made Eva feel like she was on cloud nine--Nagito was known for his unbidden actions. A great deal of the time, they ended with laughter, pleasure, and overall joy between the lovebirds

-Eva’s eyes focused on the box presented to her. When Nagito opened the lid, a gasp of surprise left her lips, seeing a pair of funky looking earrings. Eva was guilty of having a collection filled with cooky, weird earrings. She thought it was strange, but her white haired boyfriend laughed and assured her he thought it was cute. Another quirk that made him love his shining ray of hope even more

-The earrings Nagito bought were shaped like hot dogs, hanging from a small silver hook. She carefully removed one earrings, allowing the warm polyester clay to dangle eye-level towards her. She giggled, blushing at her guilty pleasure. But Nagito kept his collected demeanor in the form of a smirk, crossing his arms

-”You seem to really like them. I’m so glad, my hope. But I have more gifts,” He motioned his hand towards the rest of the boxes that still rested on the couch. Eva couldn’t contain the happiness that continued to swell up inside of her. The dam that was containing her delight burst and she suddenly trapped Nagito in a tight embrace, squeezing him until he was pale, even for his usual white skinned complexation 

-”Nagito....” She muttered, her delicate voice a bit muzzled from her face buried in the green fabric of his jacket. She pulled back, playing with a red hoodie string before turning to lock her eyes with her boyfriend’s green orbs. The hopeful beam that Nagito adored so much on the ultimate’s face shone even brighter. He couldn’t help but run a lanky hand through her messy locks, affection painted on his sunny face

-”Thank you...” She managed to choke out, still trying to come to terms that Nagito was the perfect man. The perfect partner for her, at least. Yes, Nagito did have his flaws, his luck cycle, but he always tried his best to make up for his...complicated nature. And it was definitely worth it, seeing at the end of the day, he could build hope for the two of them from the despair he unintentionally (or sometimes intentionally) brought upon them. But it all worked out in the end, for the happy couple was still in their loving hug, holding each other in their arms

-Speaking of, still in Nagito’s arms, Eva was brought to the couch, sitting down near the other boxes that contained small presents of hope (as Nagito liked to call his unprompted offerings). The infamous luckster rested his face on his fist, eager to see his hope’s expression as she one-by-one went through the presents that he worked so hard to prepare for her. After all, nothing was too good for his hope

-What could these gifts be? Was it really a surprise that a good amount of these presents were movie DVD’s, manga, broadway charm bracelets, and notebooks covered with glittery covers decorated in gold star stickers? Eva was known for being the ultimate actress, after all! She loved watching movies as much as she enjoyed starring in them. Part time, Nagito noticed her love for anime and writing showing through her side hobbies. He couldn’t help but snicker a bit, seeing a giddy actress flip through the pages of the new Black Butler manga

-”You really like them?” Nagito asked his girlfriend, scooting closer to her. All Eva did was hug him once again, nodding rapidly. She was too in shock from all the kind gestures her boyfriend showed through his actions. It wasn’t a secret he was big on praises and compliments, but Nagito’s other love language, gift-giving, was just as fluent as his verbally admiration. Still, surprising his lover in gifts wasn’t something new to the couple. In fact, it was quite often that it wouldn’t have been consider a surprise at this point. Still, the marshmallowed haired man never fazed to amaze Eva 

-”I’ll take that as a yes,” He let out another laugh, cuddling his skinny frame close his hope. Eva rested her head upon his shoulder, wanting to stay in this position forever. But they knew that they have to spend the day together and cherish another great morning by making the most of it

-”Come on, my hope. How about I order some breakfast for us and you pick out a movie?” He offered, already seeing Eva reach for Avengers: Endgame. The actress flashed a grin at him, leaning to peck his cheek as a subtle signal of agreement

-”You always know how to start off a great morning, babe,” She winked, earning a pink blush on Nagito’s face, as he reached for the phone

-Yep. Mornings with Nagito was almost always something special 

[sailorfailures]

December 5th is Makoto Kino/Sailor Jupiter’s birthday!

So how can you celebrate?

♃ Rewatch or reread your favourite Jupiter-centric chapter, episode, or musical! Start with episode 025, her introduction and the first instance of her famous “senpai crush”; then move to episode 039, where she crushes... again, this time on a handsome figure skater; episode 049, where her close friend Shinozaki is put in critical condition by a Cardian and she goes looking for revenge; episode 055, where she expresses her love for alien-turned-senpai Seijuro by way of homemade lunch box; episode 096, where Makoto gets a crush on Haruka and learns to explore her own presentation; episode 105, where she loses to a Daimon in a contest of strength and starts to second-guess her abilities; episode 134, where she visits a friend from her old school whom she encouraged to pursue writing; or episode 147, where Makoto waits for her “prince charming” Tiger’s Eye at a dance and launches a thousand MakoAmi shippers yes I see you there.

♃ Sailor Jupiter has several official image songs across different canons you can play for her big day:

90s anime: Anata no Sei Janai [“It’s Not Your Fault”]; STARLIGHT ni KISS Shite [“Kiss Me In the Starlight”]; Wasureru Tame ni Koi wo Shinaide ["Don’t Fall In Love to Forget”]; WE BELIEVE YOU Live Action: MIRACLE DANCE NIGHT; LOVELY YELL Crystal: cherry pie Musicals: Zigzag Slash She was also given a totally new image song in Dic’s original English dub that took the place of “Anata no Sei Janai” in episode 49, Rainy Day Man.

Here’s a playlist of all these songs and other Sailor Jupiter BGM cues!

♃ Whip up Makoto’s favourite foods, meatloaf and cherry pie. Unlike some other fellow Sailor Guardians she’s not a picky eater and has no least-favourite food, so why not challenge yourself to try something new or revisit an ingredient you thought you hated? You never know, you might grow to love it!

♃ Makoto’s very self-reliant, and her hobbies reflect her practical nature, particularly as she had to look after herself from a young age after the deaths of both her parents in a plane crash. She’s also intentionally pursued hobbies considered traditionally “feminine” out of concern that her outward appearance and mannerisms don’t convey who she is inside.

Her most oft-portrayed hobby is cooking, which is both something that brings her personal satisfaction and a way for her to express her love for the people closest to her - she shares her lunch with strangers, serves her friends fruit sandwiches & tea when they meet at her apartment, and daydreams about giving a personalised boxed lunch (bento) to her sweetheart. She’s also a natural teacher, showing the gang how to make curry (which becomes the one dish Usagi can make) and cookies, and showing Motoki how to make hayashi rice (“hashed beef”). Why not host a little dinner party or pot luck for your friends, teach yourself a new recipe (or teach someone else a favourite recipe of your own), or simply celebrate food by patronising a small cafe/bakery like Makoto dreams of owning someday?

She’s also a demonstably skilled sewist, making anything from stuffed toys (apparently, her specialty is teddy bears), to knitting, to bespoke patterns for her class’s maid cafe stall at their high school festival. If you’re a beginner, why not start with some simple DIYs or by altering clothing you already own/thrift, and if you’re experienced, now is a good time to revisit that project you have lying half-finished in the back of your crafts cupboard you keep saying you’ll finish someday when you unpick that one bit I SEE you there.

Makoto loves flowers and has quite a green thumb, perhaps influenced by the Japanese element she draws her powers from - wood. She tends to the strawberry patch at their high school with great success, and though she is often associated with roses, her favourite flower is actually the sasanqua (a type of camellia). She loves flowers so much that she dreams of being a florist someday, a dream she actually achieves in the live action! Pick up a new plant from a local nursery, fill your house with flowers from an independent florist, or start your own produce garden in your back yard, flower pots, or a small indoor terrarium/windowsill. If you don’t have the means to tend to a garden of your own, why not look into seed bombing with plants native to your specific area to combat invasive plant species. Or simply visit your favourite nursery, arboreum, or public garden to surround yourself with nature!

For sports, Makoto is proficient in martial arts, specifically karate (in the original anime) and judo (in the manga and Crystal). She’s also shown to be naturally gifted at ice skating thanks to her past life as Princess Jupiter, since it was a popular sport in the Moon Kingdom, pulling off even very difficult moves like lifting her partner over her head. Check out some local martial arts classes in your area or take some friends to the ice rink! She also enjoyed, and was quite good at, ballroom dancing, so take your partner or a small blue gal pal to some dance lessons - just not ballet, which she can’t quite finesse.

♃ Dress like Makoto for the day! Particularly in the first season, Makoto stuck mostly to “tomboyish” fashions, again reflecting her practicality and sporty side, rarely daring to wear skirts or dresses. However, as the series went on we learned that she in fact admired traditionally “feminine” clothes but feared they wouldn’t suit her. With encouragement from her friends like Usagi and role-models like Haruka, later seasons saw her branch out into a secondary style, with a more mature, “womanly” edge than the young, girlish styles of her friends - though she still enjoyed her original “boyish” fits. Wardrobe staples include casual jackets/hoodies, cable knit sweaters, slacks, shorts, loafers, and sneakers, and later midi skirts, turtlenecks, and bodycon mini-dresses. She wore a lot of green in varying shades, but also orange, teal, and increasingly pink.

As Sailor Jupiter, her image colours were dark green and “sugar pink”, and she wore green ankle boots accented with bright white laces. Her most iconic accessories were her pink rose earrings which, unique amongst the Sailor Guardians, she wore both transformed and not, even throwing them once as a makeshift weapon. Her nails were painted apple/avocado green from her second transformation onwards. Her hair, which to the disbelief of her teachers was naturally curly, was usually worn in a high ponytail with a bobble hairtie (plain teal in the 90s anime, green with petal-like accents in the manga/Crystal/PGSM) and two locks falling over her ears, though she did sometimes swap the hairtie for a ribbon or scrunchie.

Makoto didn’t seem to wear much makeup but did wear cologne/perfume, almost certainly rosen/floral; in fact, it’s one of the first things Usagi notices about her when they meet. If you don’t already have your own signature scent, browse for some local indie perfumers to find something that speaks to you - or look up how to make your own!

♃ Makoto wears a belt of potpourri around her waist in the manga and live action, so you could try mixing a blend of your own dried flower petals and displaying it in a bowl or tucking it in sachets amongst your clothes. In addition to the obvious rose petals, consider including oak leaves or pine needles for an earthy, woodsy note.

♃ Fall in love with someone you met 3 minutes ago!

♃ Crack some skulls!

♃ Clean up your living space! It’s good for the body and the mind.

♃ Fav and read some Sailor Jupiter fanart and fanfic on sites like Pixiv, Twitter, and AO3 - or contribute your own new content! Don’t forget to tag!

Feel free to reply and reblog with your own ideas of how you’re going to celebrate Makoto’s day!

Happy Birthday, Mako!

[bluejohsai]

whiskers — kuroo tetsurou (au).

it’s been a while and i managed to push through with posting a short scenario for this blog. i know i haven’t been active in this blog at all and it will stay that way if there are no requests flying here. i am currently accepting requests for haikyuu and attack on titan (bc i indulged in it for quite a while now). with that aside, happy reading !!

summary : kuroo finds himself in a strange predicament and inevitably bumps into his crush. inspired by ‘a whisker away’.

Kuroo Tetsurou had enough of his life.

Everything was just in shambles the moment his mother screamed at his father, demanding a divorce. And with divorce comes the argument of which parent will take the responsibility of caring for the child. In the end, Kuroo's mother won, making him pack his bags and leave his father behind to live in his mother's house in Tokyo, along with the man that his mother chose to remarry. Living under his mother's care was perfectly fine; she wasn't in the house often because of her work and his mother's new husband tends to be fussing over him any chance he gets, but Kuroo chose to brush all of them with a practiced smile.

In the summer of Kuroo's second year in high school, the dark-haired boy received a message from his father. He was lounging in his makeshift study area in the bottom part of his bunk bed, reading a book that Kenma really enjoyed (it was filled with games though, probably the reason why the first-year liked it so much), when his phone vibrated on top of the coffee table he pushed at the front of his study area. Not having any enthusiasm at the prospect of talking to people, Kuroo sluggishly sat up and opened his phone, displaying his lock screen of the sky and the message from his father. With bored eyes from behind his long fringe, Kuroo tried reading the message without any attachment since it was only once upon a time that he was close with his father.

Father:

Hey, Tetsurou, I'm here right now in Tokyo. The summer festival is still ongoing so why don't we attend the highlights, I have something to talk to you about.

Narrowing his eyes at the glare of his gadget, Kuroo stared pensively at the screen of his phone. Festivals meant reliving those joyous moments he had with his father when he was young; catching goldfishes, buying masks and scaring his mother with the designs of their face accessories, and watching the highlights of the festival, which is the fireworks display. It also meant reliving that time when his father left him intentionally during a crowded summer festival. That event in his life spurred the divorce because as his mother told him, his father is one deadbeat and selfish kind of man. But his father wasn't like that. Kuroo remembered pleading to his mother to forgive the older man but it was all in vain. She still screamed in their dining room to nullify their marriage.

Tetsurou:

OK.

That was it. No residue of the playful nature he always had with his father, as it should be all those years.

Having a few minutes of silence and staring at the bottom of his bunk bed, Kuroo took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Slowly sitting up, the dark-haired boy crawled out of his cozy hideout and stretched his limbs, because lying down and rolling on the carpeted floor definitely made him stiff. Walking towards his closet while taking off his shirt, Kuroo reached out for the red sleeveless hoodie hanging from behind his volleyball club tracksuit, quickly fitting it on him and choosing to leave his basketball shorts on. With his phone and wallet in hand, the tall lad walked down the stairs and opened the door to the living room and dining area.

Peeking his head inside a small crack of the door, Kuroo lazily scanned the area. "Ah, Hikaru-san," he called out, catching the attention of a tall man with soft brown hair and glasses from behind the counter of their kitchen. He was apparently preparing for dinner, which looked like fried chicken. "I'm going out for a bit. Tell Mom that I could be going home late tonight."

The man named Hikaru gently smiled at Kuroo as he washed his hands. "I heard tonight's the summer festival's highlights," he noted, wiping his hand on one of the clean towels by the refrigerator. "Are you going with your friend, Kenma, is it? Or your classmates, Yaku and Kai."

Kuroo shook his head. "Dad invited me."

He swore he could hear a pin drop from the awkward silence ensuing inside the room. This silence is one that he greatly distastes, and this is coming from a child who succumbed to a bout of silence once he moved to Tokyo. There was no question of how Hikaru wanted to be acknowledged as Kuroo's new father and the competition on who deserves to be a better father to Kuroo is brewing between the two males that became a part of his mother's life. Kuroo could see that Hikaru was doing his best but the messy-haired boy never really viewed him as a family even after years of being married to his mom, his dismissive behavior when it comes to Hikaru is masked with cheery remarks and loud rounds of laughter. And that's what he chose to do right now.

The tall lad laughed once again, trying to ease any tension in the air. "I'm thinking of bringing home a box of takoyaki. Do you want anything, Hikaru-san?"

Hikaru composed himself and sheepishly looked down to continue with his current task. "You don't have to buy me anything, Tetsurou." The brown-haired man glanced at Kuroo with a fatherly air. "Are you joining us for dinner later?"

Kuroo paused for a few moments, pretending to think upon the offer before shaking his head an easygoing smile. "Nope," he lightheartedly answered Hikaru. "I'll be off now!"

When Kuroo's footsteps echoed through the empty household, followed by the sound of the front door closing, Hikaru deeply sighed as he planted both hands on the counter. His dejected frame was noticed by his pet cat, Hanako, who mewled in concern as she approached her owner. Realizing his eyes pooling with unshed tears, Hikaru quickly took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes with his wrist, his forced laughter coming out huskily.

"I'm trying my best, Hanako, but why isn't it enough?"

                                                             *

Summer festivals in Tokyo always bring forth a chorus of laughter and the comfortable mellow lantern lights. There was a subtle beat of the taiko drums in the background, drowned out by the endless chatters of the people choosing to roam around during the highlights of the festivals. The streets of the enormous plaza in their area were arranged to have a line of stalls awaiting for customers, and one of them held a special place in Kuroo's childlike heart ー goldfish scooping. Here he was, crouched down in front of the small tub designated for the goldfishes, his hand poised right above him while his eyes never strayed from that fish who appeared to be brighter than anyone else in the shallow water. Right when he was about to catch the fish, his little net tilted and doubled over the water, scaring away the fishes from any human contact.

"Better luck next time, boy," the stall owner told him reassuringly but the messy-haired boy wasn't reassured at all.

Kuroo stood up brashly from his seated position, surprising the people around the little stall, and walked away with his hands inside the pockets of his sleeveless jacket. There was a hasty apology coming from behind him, along with hurried footsteps of the very person he doesn't want to interact with at the moment. Kuroo continued walking, mumbling apologies to the people he bumped on the way, until a firm grip wrapped around his arm, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

"What?" he asked the person desperately trying to catch his attention, the expression on the younger boy was hiding the fact that he was hurting because of this meeting.

"Tetsurou," Kuroo Tatsunari, his father stood in front of him, face so distraught that he nearly broke his practiced façade. "You can live with me instead of your mother, that way everyone will be happy. Please, Tetsurou, I already asked my landlord to have my apartment renovated to have your room."

Kuroo was baffled for a moment and he couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at what his father said. After shaking his head, his golden eyes trailed from the face he was starting to see in the mirror (except for the unruly hair he seemed to claim since he was young) to the hand still gripping tightly on his arm, as if asking for him to never leave the owner's side. He had enough of all of this and all he wanted was to cry his heart out and scream all his hidden thoughts to a barren meadow, but all he could do was place his hand on his father's, gently taking away the grip that kept him rooted on the ground for so many years.

With unrelenting eyes, he muttered darkly, "Have you ever wondered what would make me happy?" before turning away and running to who knows where this late at night.

"Tetsurou!"

He did what he always did best ー running away from his problems.

The young boy did this when he was in the middle of his parents' fights when he was just a little boy and he brought it with him until he was in primary school, where his mother took him under her wing all the way to Tokyo. He nearly ran away when Kenma came into his life, the prospect of having friends and interacting with other children his age so dreadful to the boy that he didn't speak until Kenma asked him what games to play, thus, spurring the two to start volleyball. He nearly ran away when middle school and high school came, the latter made his anxiety rise much higher than the previous point in his life. But this was all erased when many of his high school classmates approached him out of nowhere, clinging onto him and confessing left and right, something that he was not proud of.

The messy-haired boy slowed down his pace to a walk, tears bleeding through his vision and blending in with the drops of rain pattering down on him. "I hate this," he muttered, making measured footsteps on the cobblestones, not noticing that his surroundings seem to transition into a shrine. "I hate the world. I hate myself. I wish I would just end this miserable life right away." Just then, a strong odor of tobacco wafted through his senses, making him perk up in wariness.

In front of him was a huge man dressed in an elaborate yukata, casually smoking on a fancy pipe that Kuroo thought was a relic based on its golden sheen that illuminated under the shrine's overhead lanterns. Feeling skeptical at his current situation, Kuroo slightly took a step back with his eyes still set on the man sitting with a mask stall beside him. His heartbeat picked up its pace because of the nerves starting to churn in his stomach but the dark-haired boy still glanced at the number of masks plastered on the stall and oddly enough, all he could see were cats instead of the variety of animals that were displayed in some of the festival stalls down the hill.

"Welcome," the unnamed man said in a raspy and deep voice, his big, slitted yellow eyes glancing over at Kuroo. "Do you want to try one on? It is said to erase all your worries the moment your face touches the mask."

Erase all your worries?

Kuroo gulped before opening his mouth to speak, "How much is one?"

That offer tempted him and based on the man's appearance, he wasn't a scammer that would run away with his money. There was something from the man's voice that compelled him to try just one mask to see if what he said is true because he definitely needed an escape from reality right about now.

The man chuckled ominously. "No need to pay, young man."

The messy-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is this because your offer is a hoax?"

At this, the unnamed man's chuckles became a full-on laugh. Laughter of scrutiny thrown at him, making Kuroo squirm in his perch. "There wasn't anything about a hoax in what I said, kid. Here," the man reached out from behind him and picked out a black cat mask, throwing it at Kuroo, who leaned forward to catch the object, "try it on."

Kuroo flipped the mask. The front was so detailed that it almost looked real, the paint on the mask's nose seemed to glint with the wetness of a real cat's and even the whiskers protruded on either side of it. The ears also captured his attention ー there were fur inside each one and it even depicted the real colors on what you can see on a cat. The back wasn't much with its embellished white appearance but when Kuroo slowly lifted the mask to try it on, it snuggly fit the shape of his face, sending chills down his spine. It was like the mask was made for him. But his admiring came to a halt when an invisible wall slammed on him, making him lose his balance.

The next moment was so bizarre to Kuroo. At first, everything was normal to him and the next, all objects loomed over his figure like skyscrapers. But when he blinked at the green color invading his optics, his vision seems to sharpen, even more, zeroing on where the man was previously seated and only finding no sign of the unnamed person. His chest tightened with anxiety, jumping at the slightest of sound picked up by his hearing. With shaky legs, Kuroo walked on the pathway with the sole purpose of going home and just wrapping himself in his duvet, praying that the next day will be much kinder to him. Upon passing by a vending machine right at the base of the shrine, his golden eyes widened when his reflection showed a black cat instead of his tall physique.

What is happening?

"What in the world?" Kuroo voiced out but instead of his usual timber, a series of meows ricocheted through the empty shrine. He jumped two feet in the air in surprise, spooked that even the black cat in the vending machine's reflection showed rod-like fur. After a few moments, he slowly walked towards the reflection, both curious and unnerved at what he just witnessed. "How?"

Placing a paw on the glassy surface, Kuroo roamed his eyes over his new body. He wasn't even surprised that the cat he donned has black fur and a small tuff of hair covering a portion of his right eye. Gradually, the boy's parted lips turned into a large smile as he whooped in the air while jumping around. It was cute in a human's perspective ー a little black cat hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, his little meows twinkling in the night breeze. In all honesty, Kuroo felt so alive to leave his human life behind and the only thought lingering in his head is how much he wanted to be a cat his whole life ー lazing around and looking for different homes all day, no room for homework and the constant argument of familial connections. For an entire hour, Kuroo marveled at the world from a different perspective as he never stopped swaying happily down the path.

Until a familiar scent hit him ー watermelon.

And true enough, there on one of the benches was [Last Name][Name], who was looking blankly at the park in front of her with a half-finished bottle of banana milk loosely held in her hands. It looked like she came from one of her college prep classes based on what she was wearing — a beige turtleneck sweater and a tawny pencil skirt covered by a trench coat. Her hair was the same hairstyle Kuroo always liked on her, a loose braid running down on one of her shoulders, with her fringe carefully framing her ethereal face. It was no surprise to everyone how much he likes the girl and it shows how he gawked at her with round, golden eyes.

She looked at the side and when her gaze found him, Kuroo visibly jumped in shock again. The girl rose her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the adorable black cat pausing a few feet from her. Kuroo watched [Name] open her backpack and mumbling things under her breath as she searched for something in her bag. Brightening when she finally found what she was looking for, the black cat curiously watched as [Name] waved a pack of biscuits in the air and beckoned him towards her.

"I have some snacks, kitty," she told him, which strangely compelled him to come closer. Who doesn't? The girl he absolutely adores called him 'kitty' with that beautiful smile, of course, he would follow her. When he stopped by her shoes, she then lowered her voice, "Is it alright if I pick you up?"

Kuroo meowed in approval, which [Name] happily took as a good response since she carefully picked him up and placed him on her lap. She then softly ran her fingers on his head, making him purr in contentment. Before nibbling on a biscuit, Kuroo enjoyed the warmth [Name] emitted, looking up at her with his pupils blown wide, which is a sign of his fascination with the girl.

"The night is beautiful ー it's like everything disappeared," she pensively voiced out, her eyes softly staring at the black cat on her lap. "I need more moments like these. People want me to do things that they want, not knowing how much I wanted to be free when I step out in the real world. I mean, I'm going to be eighteen soon and it's a sign that my dad should stop placing shackles that makes me want to cry. I don't even want to be a doctor." She pursed her lips as she paused for a bit as she muttered, "It's so suffocating." The girl then felt paws on her shoulder, making her look up at the adorable black cat, which was a few inches from her face. Then, she felt the tiniest kiss on her cheek, something that elicited a giggle from her. "That tickles."

Raising her hand from her lap, [Name] wrapped them around the cat's body, lifting him a little higher and placing him on her shoulder.

"You smell like lavender," she whispered. "I love it."

Through the night, the boy trapped inside the black cat's body heard his heart pound in his chest, his adoration for the girl blossoming like the fireworks lighting the park.

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Fall Showers

Part 8 of the Moonlit  Masquerade Series

She hears about it at the market on Monday after school.

Amity has to go home straight after school, so Luz teleports herself to the market, in no rush today to head straight home. She's browsing a stand, looking over an assortment of magical trinkets curiously when she happens to overhear two people standing nearby talking.

"So are you taking her to the 'fall shower' tomorrow night?" One asks.

"She'd never let me hear the end of it if I don't. It's the 'most romantic thing a couple can do together'," the other quotes, rolling his eyes.

Luz pays closer attention to those words.

"Girls are so sappy…," the first chuckles and they walk off.

Luz hums to herself and finishes her browsing before hurrying home to ask Eda about this 'fall shower'.

Her pseudo mom is strewn haphazardly across the couch with a magazine laying open over her face when she gets home.

"Hey, Eda!" she calls when she bursts through the door.

"What?" she grumbles, but otherwise doesn't move from the couch.

"What's the 'fall shower'?" she asks as she sets her bag on the floor by the door.

She reached up and pulled the magazine down to her nose to regard Luz with tired, dual-colored eyes.

"Where'd you hear about that?" she asks, voice muffled by the magazine still sitting halfway on her face.

"In town, some guys were talking about it being some big romantic thing," she says. Eda grunts, head lolling to the side to better look at her.

"Yeah, it's a couple… thing." She waved a hand, before pulling the magazine back up over her eyes.

"That didn't tell me anything…" Luz frowned at her.

"Go ask Lily." is the muffled reply.

"Ask me what?" Lilith chose that moment to walk into the living room, some books held under her arm.

"What's the ‘fall shower’?" Luz turns to her.

"Ahh, you heard about that." Lilith smiles, walking over to the couch and using the books to sweep Eda's feet out of the seat on the end to sit.

Eda grumbles, shooting her sister a dirty look as she sits up.

"The Fall Shower is a meteor shower that takes place around this time each year," Lilith explained as she arranged herself on the couch.

"So, what makes it so romantic?"

"The legend behind it is that long ago two lovers, kept apart by circumstance would meet under cover of night, only once a year to be together, and after many years of this, and watching it, the Titan was so moved by their dedication and love, that it made the very sky weep," she gladly explained while Eda rolled her eyes.

"It's a bunch of sappy gobble de gook," Eda gruffed but frowned when she saw Luz was looking at Lilith with wide, starry eyes.

"That sounds awesome!"

"It's a widely watched event by lovers all across the Isles. Specifically from the Eastern forest where the lovers were said to meet," Lilith finishes happily. Luz is always willing to listen and learn from her, which does do something for her ego and the teacher in her.

"You and Amity gonna go?" Eda asks, cocking her head curiously.

"Oh… I dunno…" luz hesitates.

"Why not?”

"We're together but we're not… ya know…," she says, waving a hand, cheeks pink. She finds it hard to say that word. Eda gives her a wicked grin.

"You love each other dont'cha?" She cocked her head, smirking  "You're lovers." It took everything the owl lady had to keep a straight face as she said this, but it broke the second Luz began to turn crimson.

"That's not what the word…. 'lovers' implies, and you know it!" Luz squeaks, red-faced as she finally gets the word out.  Eda threw her head back and laughed maniacally.

Sometimes she forgot that Luz was still pretty innocent by most counts.

"It's an event many couples go to, regardless of their… um, stage of relationship" Lilith tries to supply helpfully. "It's quite beautiful, I would recommend it."

"You've been?" Luz and Eda both ask, surprised.

Luz watches in fascination as the former coven leader's face tints pink.

"I have," she says.

"With who?" Eda is looking at her, grinning.

"Never you mind!" Lilith growls. "The point is, regardless of the state of your relationship, it's something worth seeing."

"I'll ask her tomorrow." Luz nods.

She picks up her bag and heads upstairs, listening to Eda prod at her sister.

"Come on, who was it?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Was it that snot nose boy from the bard track you had the hots for?"

"Edalyn!"

Luz just laughs to herself.

~

Tuesday, she's sitting next to Amity in class and the teacher has stepped out to see to something, so Luz takes the opportunity to slide a note across the table to her.

Amity looks at the folded slip of paper with a cocked brow before looking up at her, but Luz is carefully not looking at her.

'You busy tonight?'

Her eyebrow arches higher at that.

'No, why?' she slides it back.

'Wanna go somewhere with me?' it reads when she's passed it back.

'Where?'

She can practically hear her girlfriend's wary tone in the written words and grins.

'The eastern forest.' she's being intentionally vague and Amity knows it.

"Why?" She finally just whispers and Luz shakes her head making a 'shhhing' motion and Amity makes an annoyed sound and simply pushes the paper back to her. Luz can sense she's quickly reaching the end of her girlfriend's patience for her game and jots down a reply before sliding it back.

'Want to go watch the 'fall shower' with me?'

Amity's head whips up to look at her with wide eyes the second she finishes processing the words on the paper, looking at Luz, who is looking back at her, both brows raised in silent question.

"The…" she starts but manages to stop herself, remembering where they are and starts scribbling furiously on the paper before shoving it back.

'The fall shower? How do you even know what that is?'

'Heard some guys at the market talking about it. So, mi amor, up for a romantic night under the stars?'

Amity pursed her lips, glancing at Luz out of the corner of her eye and she feels herself smile when she sees Luz looking at her in that adoring way that is much too telling of a way for school.

She hesitates a moment before putting something down and pushing it back.

'It's a school night.' is her weak argument.

'so?'

She shoots Luz a look but she only grins back.

'Okay'

"Passing notes in my class, Miss. Noceda?" The professor returned while they weren't looking, his abomination looming over their table. "On principle, all notes are read aloud in my class." He holds his tiny hand out for the paper.

Luz glances at Amity, who's gone pale as a ghost, gold eyes filled with panic and fear at the declaration.

Knowing the nature of their relationship is written plainly on the paper for all to potentially hear, Luz makes a desperate decision and shoves it into her mouth.

The teacher and the whole class look at her with wide eyes and hanging mouths, including Amity as she chews it, wincing at the sharp edges. It's the longest hand full of seconds ever as the whole class watches her eat a piece of paper.

But Luz is nothing if not committed and swallows, eyes watering.

"No, sir," she rasps. "No notes here."

"Well then… on with the lesson…,"  he says numbly at what he'd just witnessed and returns to the front of the class.

Amity is still looking at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Let it never be said that Luz Noceda wouldn't do whatever it took to protect her girlfriend, whether it be eating a punch or a piece of paper.

She grins, though it looks queasy, and Amity slaps her palm against her forehead.

~

"You ate it?" Gus says disbelieving at lunch but then turns thoughtful. "Do humans usually eat paper?" he asks curiously.

"No, no, they do not…" Luz makes a face and smacks her lips. She can still taste it, paper on the Isles tastes different. Willow has her head in her hand and is shaking it.

"I'm torn between calling you an idiot and finding it endearing that you ate it, so it wouldn't be read out loud," Amity mumbles.

"Yo también te quiero." Luz winks and Amity grins back at her. The way they're looking at each other makes Willow sigh.

"You two have been kind of bold lately. You've got to be more careful at school," she mumbles. "Unless you like eating paper…" She looks at Luz, exasperated. Her friends are too much sometimes, on a good day, much less when they're being all… coupley. They're sitting in the back corner of the cafeteria, Luz and Amity sitting against the wall so no one can see them holding hands under the table

"She's right," Amity says quietly, and Luz sighs.

"I know." She mopes. "There's just not enough time in the day…," Luz laments and Amity squeezes her hand under the table.

Gus and Willow share a look. They feel for their friends, they really do, the two just want to be so sickeningly in love whenever they're together. Even though they don't want to be subjected to it all the time, they also wish their friends could just be a couple in public.

"Well, fall break is coming up, that's a whole week off coming up soon." Gus piped up helpfully.

"That's true, we'll have to all hang out together during the break," Willow suggests and the couple was quick to agree as they discussed possible plans for the coming break.

~

It's well and dark when Luz pulls on her new Hexside hoodie. An apology offering from the twins after she'd bled all over the other one, and steps out the door with Owlbert on her shoulder and the staff in hand.

"Be careful, and have fun," Eda calls.

"I will. love you!" she calls, closing the door.

"Ready, buddy?" She smiles and the palisman hoots happily before hopping atop the staff and fusing back with the wood, wings spread, and she hopped on before flying away from the owl house toward Blight Manor.

It's colder and colder with each passing day as they move into true fall. Leaves have fallen everywhere across the Isles, starting to give it an even more barren look in some places then it usually had, though in others the forest is awash with color of every shade and hue Luz can imagine.

The moon is full and the sky is clear. It couldn't be a more perfect evening for watching a meteor shower.

Blight Manor comes into view after a few minutes and Luz makes sure to hover down in the woods, well outside the wrought iron gates, just in the tree line.

Luckily most of the trees outside Blight Manor are of the coniferous variety and their branches are still full of green needles, shielding her from view.

She pulls out her scroll and sends a message.

'I’m outside, flash your light.'

She slipped it back in her hoodie pocket and glanced over the windows, most of the lights were on, then suddenly a light on the far side of the house began to flicker. Luz grinned and spurred the staff into motion toward the side of the house and over the fence to hover outside the second-story window.

She could see Amity inside, sitting on her bed and tapping her foot anxiously. She was wearing the white and purple hoodie she'd borrowed from Luz three weeks ago, which the human had completely forgotten about till now.

She definitely liked that hoodie on Amity.

Luz grinned as she flew in close and tapped the glass quietly. Amity jerked, gold eyes wide as she looked up to see her girlfriend hovering out the window, waving.

She smiled brightly and jumped up, opening the window.

"Buenas Noches, mi amor. Your chariot awaits." Luz grinned and hoped it came out as dashing as it did in her head.

"You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, querida," Amity giggled at her behind a hand and climbed onto the window sill. Luz held out her hand, taking Amity's to help steady her as she slipped out the window and onto the staff, hands wrapping around Luz's waist.

Just as she's about to close the window the bedroom door opens and before Amity's heart can come out of her throat, Edric sticks his head in and looks around a second before spotting them, hovering, outside the window, looking back at him with wide eyes.

They stare back at each other before Ed's face morphs into a wicked grin as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

"I never knew you had it in you, Mittens." He smirked, crossing his arms.

"Ed!" Amity hissed at the only Blight son as he walked over to the window and set his elbows on the sill, setting his head in his hands.

"Where are you two off too?" he asked, looking between the two with glee.

"We're gonna go watch the fall shower," Luz said with a grin before Amity could tell him to buzz off.

"Oooh…, and if mom or dad should happen to pop their heads into your room and see you're gone?" He cocked a brow. Amity frowned at that, suddenly doubting the brilliance of this plan.

Edric saw it and smiled, he twirled his finger and in a pale blue flash, a duplicate Amity appeared in her bed, appearing to be sleeping.

"I got ya covered." He winked, and Amity smiled at him. "Don't stay out too late, you two" He grins, wagging a finger.

"Thanks, Ed!" Luz grinned before they pulled away from the window and flew off into the dark.

Amity clung tightly to Luz's back as they flew over the island, she was downright hot in comparison to the cold air that whipped past their faces.

"Where are we going exactly?" She leaned forward, lips pressed against Luz's ear so she could hear her over the wind.

Luz shivered at the hot breath in her ear.

"Lilith told me about a spot on a cliff at the edge of the forest that was perfect when she went," she answered back, as she steered them.

"Lilith's been?" Luz can hear the surprise in her voice.

"I know, crazy right? She wouldn't say who with, Eda bugged her all night about it." Luz shrugged.

When they’re flying over the forest they can see the faint glowing of lights dotting the area.

"I don't think we're going to be the only ones here…," Amity mumbles and Luz nods, bringing them down away from any of the other couples that appear to be in the woods tonight.

They hop off and Luz leans the staff against her shoulder and pulls up her hood.

"We don't wanna be recognized if anyone we know is here. It'd be hard to explain why we're here together," she reasoned when Amity looked at her curiously.

"Right," she said, pulling up her own hood. "Nothing you can eat would fix that." She smirked as Luz pulled out a light glyph and lit up the area around them.

"I thought we agreed that that was endearing!" Luz yelped at the teasing. Amity just chuckled as she walked through the forest, Luz hot on her heels.

"A true labor of love," Amity agreed, though the way she was giggling told a different story.

"That's the last time I get a paper cut on my tongue for you," Luz huffed, grabbing Amity's hand. The witch's fingers laced between her automatically even as she rolled her eyes.

"What do you want me to do, kiss it better?"

"Maybe…," Luz grumbled, and they both turned bright red beneath their hoods.

"Come on, you dork," Amity mumbled, glad most of her face was hidden by the purple hood.

They walked quickly through the woods, hand in hand as they searched for a relatively private spot from which to watch the sky.

"It should be just over this way…," Luz said quietly as they walked, their breaths coming out in little clouds.

"Did Lilith say exactly where it was?" Amity glanced around at all the trees, their feet crunching in the leaves.

"No, but she said around here, and that we'd know it when we saw it. There should be a bunch of rocks with initials carved into them," she said, holding her hand up, the light out in front of her.

A few more yards and she stopped, jerking Amity tp a stop as well.

"What-," she started.

"Shhh," Luz hushed her and tapped the staff to the ground, snuffing the light out, casting them in darkness before pulling Amity against her and pressing her back flush against a wide tree trunk. It took a few moments before their eyes adjusted to the dark, the light of the moon filtering through the trees cast a faint, but low, glow over everything.

They stayed perfectly still and quiet. All Amity could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then, the crunching of leaves approaching, followed by voices growing steadily louder. A moment later they could see the light bobbing between the trees a few yards away.

"How many more of these losers do you think we can catch on camera?" A voice cackled.

'Boscha' was the thought going through both girls' heads. Amity's grip on Luz tightened and her heartbeat sped up. Luz pulled her closer, as though trying to sink into the bark of the tree and make themselves disappear.

"There were a bunch down by the river." Skara's voice answered.

"Perfect, my penstagram followers could use a laugh," she snorted.

They were walking past them, through the trees, and both girls held their breath as they walked by.

Their voices and the light growing steadily more distant along with their footsteps in the crunching leaves. Eventually, the sounds faded entirely, replaced with the ambient sounds of the forest and Amity sighed in relief, her head sagging against Luz's shoulder.

"That was close…," the witch mumbled once she was sure they were far enough away.

"She just came out here to make fun of people…" Luz frowned, and Amity pulled back to look at her girlfriend's face.

"That's certainly something she would do…" Amity agreed.

"She's such a…" Luz chewed on her words, face screwed up with anger.

"A bitch," Amity supplied and Luz looked at her with wide eyes before a grin broke out across her face and she snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughing and Amity grinned at her.

"My, my, what strong language, Miss Blight." Luz grinned once she got her giggling under control.

"You were thinking it," she argued, still grinning.

"I would never." Luz held a hand to her chest, but her own grin betrayed her.

"Come on," she laughed, tugging Luz away from the tree and spelling a light orb into existence as they continued on in the same direction as before.

They pushed through some bushes and in front of them were an outcropping of rocks.

"I wonder if this is it…," Luz hummed as they pushed through and rounded one of the large rocks only to smack directly into someone.

"Ahh!" Four yells echoed through the woods.

Luz holds the staff out in front of them defensively before she realizes who it is they’ve run into.

"Amity!?"

"Emira!?

The sisters stared at each other.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked.

Amity blinked, then noticed the other person standing at her sister's side.

"Viney?" Luz cocked her head, looking between the two older teens.

"Sup?" She smiled, not looking at all bothered by the events going on around them. Amity looked back and forth between her sister and the other multi-track student.

The older Blight's face turned panicked.

"I can explain!" Emira practically shouts at them. Her sister's mouth is hanging open as the scene in front of them begins to sink in.

"I knew it!" Luz points, grinning wildly at the other two girls. Amity blinks at that, head whipping to look at her girlfriend.

"What do you mean you knew it!?" she yelps and Luz chuckles, scratching the back of her head.

"Well, yeah, after Viney fixed my face and was so weird about how she knew Em, I kinda started paying more attention, and saw Em head into beast keeping one day after school when I had to go back because I forgot my bag, so I just figured." She shrugged. The older teens stand there, red-faced at being so easily figured out.

"Them, you figured out in two weeks, but you didn't know I liked you till I said it to your face after almost two months…" Amity frowns, crossing her arms. Luz turned red at that and grinned sheepishly, shrugging.

"Lo Siento, mi amor."

Viney snorted at that, drawing the two girls’ gaze.

"That sounds like, Luz," she agreed, and Amity sighed.

"Are you guys here to watch the fall shower?" Luz grins.

"Of course," Viney smiles back, hand on her hip.

The sisters are still looking at each other. Emira looks embarrassed and Amity can't help but feel betrayal sinking in her gut like a stone.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this…," she finally managed to mutter and the betrayal she feels must be clear on her face because Emira blinks at her and grimaces, rubbing one of her arms.

Luz and Viney share a glance.

"I can't believe you!" Amity frowns and Emira jerks but then glares.

"It's not like you told me about, Luz!" she bites back defensively.

"You already knew!" she argued.

"Anyone with one eye and half a brain could tell how bad you had it for her!" she barked.

"Hey!" Luz jumps in, offended by the implication.

"Babe..." Viney rested a hand on Emira's shoulder and she relaxed, sighing.

"Look, Amity, it wasn't anything personal… it was just that the fewer people that knew the better. I shouldn't have to tell you that." Her eyes darted to Luz before focusing on her sister.

Amity continues to frown and Luz nudges her with her hip. She glanced at the human, smiling at her in that way, egging her on. Amity sighs, looking back at Emira.

"You're right… I understand."

"I should have told you though… there just hasn't been a good time lately," Emira admitted.

"I don't understand…," Luz said, drawing everyone's gaze. "I know why your parents wouldn't like me… being all human and everything, but what's wrong with Viney, why keep it a secret?" She held her hand out at the other upperclassman.

"Besides being a multi-track student, formerly of the detention track, and bottom of the barrel social class-wise?" Viney chuckled, seemingly not at all bothered by this characterization of herself.

"Our parents are very… traditional," Amity hedges.

"Anyone who falls outside the norm, someone studying multiple tracks, like you," Emira pointed at her. " Or aren't of the right social class, they are not going to be fond of." Emira frowns, resting a fist on her hip.

"Wow, I think that's the first time I've checked every box on a list…, and not the list I wanted too..." Luz frowned, crossing her arms.

"I still love you." Amity nudged her, making her smile.

Emira cleared her throat and they both turned red as they focussed on the two grinning teens in front of them.

"So yeah," Emira said with a grin at her sister's bright red face. "That's why."

"Blight's just have the hots for trouble makers." Viney winked and Luz laughed as they high fived, making the sisters roll their eyes, but both their faces are pink.

"I'm surprised though, never thought you'd have the guts to sneak out, Mittens." Emira looked at her sister appraisingly. "Then again, you do a lot of surprising things these days…" she smiled, glancing between the two younger girls.

Amity stood a little taller, chin jutted out.

"How'd you guys get here?" Luz asks.

"Puddles" Viney grinned, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at the young griffin laying curled up in the grass.

"I want a griffin…" Luz pouted, making her fellow multi-tracker chuckle.

“You do not need a griffin…,” Amity mumbled.

"You guys better find a spot to watch from, the shower should be starting soon," Viney reminded.

"And this is our spot," Emira said.

"Oh, right. Come on, Amity." Luz grabbed her hand and tugged.

Amity sent a last glance at her sister who seemed to read the look.

"Later," she promised. Amity nodded and let Luz drag her away.

"Stay close and we'll warn you if anyone's coming our way!" Viney called to the two's retreating backs. Luz waved over her shoulder.

"We can still find a good spot." Luz smiled at her as they walked. Amity nodded. The cool night air had made her nose and the tips of her ears red, Luz looked much the same.

They followed the edge of the cliff till they pushed through some bushes as tall as them and stopped.

In front of them was a small clearing of grass surrounded by large stones on one side and the edge of the cliff, hanging out over the ocean on the other, providing perfect shelter from any onlookers and a clear view of the night sky and moon above them.

"This is perfect." Luz smiled and Amity nodded in agreement.

They glanced around and Luz perked up. "Hey check it out!" She trotted over to the rocks and the light spell lit up the rocks, casting long shadows against their jagged shapes and the many initials carved across their faces. "This is it!" Luz grinned.

"Lilith was right, this spot is perfect," Amity admitted, looking around. The moonlight reflecting off the ocean amidst the starry sky was beautiful.

Luz glanced around before her eyes lighted upon a sharp rock and picked it up, resting the staff against the rocks and immediately going to work on a free space on the rocks face, tongue poking out between her lips in concentration

All the scratching and chipping noise brought Amity's eyes back to her, hunched over one of the large rocks.

"What are you doing?" She tried to peek around her, but Luz covered her work with her arms.

"Hold on, I'm not done!"

Amity can practically hear the grin in her voice, and stood back, waiting. After a few minutes, Luz leaned back, eyeing her work critically before smiling and standing up to move aside.

"Ta~da" She held out her arms at the rock.

There, chiseled forever into the rock's surface, deep enough to never fade is: 'L+A' Inside a slightly misshapen heart.

Amity's face warms, and heat blooms in her chest in a way that only Luz is capable of eliciting. She can't stop the smile tugging at her lips even if she wanted too; and she doesn't.

"You're a dork," she says, but the adoring tone can't be mistaken for anything else.

"But I'm your dork, mi amor." She grins wagging her eyes brows and Amity snorts into her hand.

"Yeah, my dork," she agrees, grabbing the sides of Luz's hood and pulling her in for a kiss.

Luz laughs against her lips and she pulls back, shaking her head.

"Come on…," she mumbles, still smiling as she tugs Luz over to the grass. Luz dropped her hand to plop down on the ground, flopping onto her back in the grass, one arm outstretched in invitation. Amity sat down beside her laid back in the grass atop Luz's arm, letting her tug her in close. Her warmth immediately soaks into her, and Amity shuffles closer, throwing an arm across Luz's waist, humming contently and Luz is happy to oblige any and all snuggling, her free hand reaching across to entangle her fingers with Amity's. Their cold and Luz just squeezed tighter, trying to warm the digits in hers and Amity smiles against her.

It's quiet, the sounds of the ocean crashing against the shore and the slight breeze in the trees are the only sounds for a few minutes, but Luz and quiet never did mix for long.

"So, when is it supposed to start?" Luz mumbles against a pointed ear, hot breath making it twitch. Amity half shrugs.

"Anytime now," she hums.

Honestly, she doesn't even care if it ever starts, though she's sure Luz would be disappointed if it didn't. She's happy to just be right here, her girlfriend holding her close, alone in the calm quiet of the night. It's only ever here, wrapped up in the unending warmth and affection the other girl exudes, that Amity is ever truly at peace, unworried by everything else going on in her life, whether it be school, her parents, or anything in between. Here, above all else, is where she's happiest.

She lets her eyes slip closed for a moment, and the warm earthy smell she would know anywhere fills her senses, so much stronger then on the hoodie she's been wearing to bed for two weeks. She doesn't pretend to understand what Luz is thinking half the time, but her thoughts must be of a similar vein because she feels her nose bury in her hair.

It's probably only a minute before she hears Luz gasp.

"It's starting!" Is the excited whisper against the shell of her ear, and her eyes pop open.

First, it's just one, then two, then three more, and before she knows it, stars are streaking across the sky leaving bright trails of light in their wake as they flash and vanish almost as quickly as they appear, but are quickly replaced by more.

"Wow…," Luz breathes as she watches with wide eyes. It reminds her of rain on a window, or tears falling, like in the story.

Amity watches silently, but no less entranced by the spectacle.

"Totally worth it," Luz says and Amity can see the cloud it makes before it evaporates against the sky above them. She hums in agreement.

The stars continue to flash across the sky in bright flecks of whizzing light, slowly fading out against the inky blacks and deep blues and purples of the nebulas above. Amity’s thumb runs over the back of Luz’s knuckles slowly.

The sky is alive with the bright streaks for a long while before they begin to slow, and as they do she can feel her eyes droop, the quiet, and Luz's warmth slowly lulling her to sleep.

After a while, Luz notices the constant rubbing of Amity's thumb over her knuckles has stopped and she glances down to see her eyes closed and breathing soft and even as she sleeps, curled against her. Happiness, hot and searing, fills her whole being; beyond words to describe it.

She smiles to herself, and buries her nose in mint hair, letting her eyes slip closed, just for a second, listening to the calming sound of Amity's breathing and feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against her.

Then she's asleep.

The next thing they know, they're being shaken awake.

"Huh, Wha-" Luz blinks drowsily.

"You two gotta get up, and Mittens has to come home with me," Emira chuckles as she and Viney stand over the two, smiling, Puddles standing behind them.

Luz grumbles, clutching her girlfriend closer.

"No…," she mumbles thickly. She feels the hot puffs of air against her neck as Amity sleepily laughs at her.

"We have to go…," she says thickly, pressing a drowsy kiss to Luz's neck without thinking, unaware of the jolt it sends through Luz’s system, before extracting herself from her. Luz just whines and makes needy, grabby motions with her hands; she’s colder now.

Amity chuckles and holds out her hand.

"Come on, you dork." She smiles down at her.

Luz takes her hand and lets herself be hauled to her feet. She walked over to the rocks and picked up the staff. The wings spread and she hops on, hovering off the ground and looking at Amity expectantly.

“I better go with Em,” she says sadly, and Luz pouts. Amity smiles and takes a step forward and kisses her goodnight, and it if lasts longer than it really needs to, the other two teens don’t say anything, just wait for Amity to extract herself from Luz.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises quietly, and Luz hums in agreement. “Goodnight, querida,” she mumbles.

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she says quietly, and then is flying off over the trees and disappearing from sight.

Viney jumps on Puddles back and Emira climbs on behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Let’s go, Mittens,” her sister calls. “We have school tomorrow.”

“When did you suddenly become the voice of reason?” Viney chuckles.

“Cuz, she’s too head over heels in love with Luz, someone has to do it,” her sister teases, and Amity huffs, climbing on the griffin’s back behind her sister.

“Shut up,” she grumbles as they take off back toward Blight Manor.

“I’m curious…,” Emira starts after a few minutes, looking over her shoulder at Amity. “What’s ‘mi amor’? I’ve heard her say that before,” she asks, and Amity’s cheeks pink.

“It’s Spanish…,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, but what does it mean?” she stresses, almost knowingly. Maybe she doesn’t know exactly, but she knows a term of endearment when she hears one, especially the way Luz says those words to her; soft and meaningfully.

She mumbles something.

“What?” she asks and Amity sighs to herself.

“It means ‘my love’,” she finally says, and predictably, Emira coos at her.

“Aww… so ‘querida’ is like…,” she trails off and Amity scowls at her, of course, she heard that.

“Dear or darling,” she grumbles.

“You two are too cute.” She grins.

“Like you don’t call me ‘honey’,” Viney pipes up, and it’s Emira’s turn to blush and grumble something under her breath. Amity snorts, grinning. She likes Viney more and more by the minute.

They land in the woods, just beyond the house and dismount, there's no way to get the griffin as close and quietly to their windows as Luz could get on a staff.

Amity turns away as Viney and her sister say their own goodbye’s, and then the multi-tracker is flying off into the night and the sisters make their way to the door. It’s late and all the lights are out, their parents are definitely asleep by now.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Emira says after a minute. “About Viney,” she clarifies, glancing at her sister.

Amity shrugs.

“I get it… I’m... terrified, about mom and dad finding out about Luz, and never being able to see her again,” she says quietly. Emira wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“Ed and I have your back.”

Amity smiles to herself and nods before it turns into a grin.

“And I’m sure if Luz starts inviting Viney to things it will be just a coincidence,” she teases, and Emira scoffs, shoving her away, but her flushed face says it all and Amity laughs.

“Whatever…,” she gripes, but she’s grinning. It would definitely be less conspicuous if the four of them hung out together. They love hanging out with Gus and Willow, but she’s sure their friends get tired of them being all lovey when they're together.

They silently open the door and walk in.

The kitchen light is on and they share a look before tiptoeing down the entryway and peek their heads around the corner, the fridge door is open and someone is scavenging through it. They stay perfectly still.

Then, Edric steps back, fork hanging out of his mouth and a piece of cake in hand, and closes the door.

“Ed,” they hiss, and he jumps, nearly dropping the plate.

“Shit! Don’t do that!” he huffs as they walk into the kitchen. “Wait, where were you?” he points at his twin.

“We were both at the Fall Shower,” Amity says and Emira pinks as her twin looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“With who?” he asks.

“Her girlfriend?” Amity says obviously, and Edric’s eyes widen.

“You have a girlfriend?” he hisses, and Amity blinks, looking from one twin to the other.

“You didn’t tell Ed?” She blinks. Amity had always assumed that the twins told each other everything.

“Who’s your girlfriend?!” He leans forward and Emira turns red.

“Viney…”

“Your multi-track friend?” He blinks and she nods. “Huh… I shoulda pegged her as your type,” he hums before taking a bite of his cake. “So, how was it?” he asks, mouthful. The sisters glance at each other.

“Perfect,” they say, and Edric just nods sagely before he stops, looking thoughtful.

"So… wait… I'm the only one without a girlfriend!?" Edric yelled, throwing up his free hand.

Amity snorted, and Emira just shrugged.

"Sorry, Bro." She smirked, not looking sorry at all.

"Whatever, I don't want one anyway. I have this cake," he huffs, sticking his nose in the air and walking back upstairs with his treat.

The sisters share a look before they start laughing.

~

Luz hops off the staff and pushes open the front door of the owl house, careful not to wake Hooty as she steps inside.

“Hey, Kid,” Eda greets her when she steps inside. The sisters are sitting on the couch when she walks in, and she smiles at them. Eda doesn’t even need to ask how it went by the dopey smile Luz can’t seem to rid herself of. “You’re home late for a school night,” she scolds but is given away by her grin.

“How was the shower?” Lilith asks her, smiling, she too can see the giddy aura that surrounds her sister’s apprentice like a fog.  

Luz clutches the staff tightly in her hands, well aware of how dopey she must look.

“Magical” she sighs and Eda chuckles.

[euphoria-vmin7]

tiger flower | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader 

genre/warnings: angst, hanahaki! au, non-idol! au, heartbreak, unrequited love, swearing, a n g s t

word count: 1,830

summary: tiger flower. it’s his birth flower. it’s the flower that you can’t have. 

rating: pg-15 (swearing) 

-- a/n: so this is my first submission for the BGW BINGO BASH! i was listening to crystal snow and then i got really inspired and so this was born at 2 am :) it’s for the “hanahaki!au” square. i hope you all like this! 

.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ 

.

“Dammit (Name)!” Jungkook groaned, throwing his hands up in the air with utter disbelief. “Why the fuck did you kill me?!” 

You winced and shot him a glare. “I’ve never played this before!” 

“Well I wouldn’t have let you play if I’d known you’d suck this bad,” Jungkook tossed his controller to the side as you struggled to keep fighting on your own. Sadly, your character died pretty quickly without the help of the expert gamer next to you. You turned fully to grin at his angry scowl and punched his shoulder, which of course didn’t faze him at all. Stupid muscles. 

“Oh quit being such a baby, Kook,”  you teased, leaning back to lounge against his worn out couch. “It’s just a game,” 

“A game you suck at,” he muttered, standing up and heading into his kitchen. You chuckled at his salty tone. You had probably just broken his spotless winning streak or lost him his spot on the leaderboard or something trivial like that. Well, it was trivial to you, but obviously not to him. Jungkook lumbered back into the living room, shooting you a pointed glare before plopping down next to you. He tossed you a bag of chips and grabbed the remote to fiddle with the channels on his television. You raised your legs and draped them over Jungkook’s lap, an excessive show of making yourself comfortable that earned you another glare. 

“I don’t need your sweaty feet in my face while I’m eating my precious chips, (Name),” he snapped irritably. 

“Well there are a lot of things you don't need but you get them anyway,” 

“Fuck you,”  

Despite all his complaining, Jungkook didn’t make any move to get your feet off his lap, an action that made you grin when you realized it. You watched with a sweet concealed smile as he lazily shoved chips into his mouth, not minding how much he was spilling on his old grey hoodie. You chuckled quietly. What a slob. 

Technically speaking, it had only been about three weeks since you had last seen Jungkook. You both had headed to your hometowns for break to spend the winter holidays with your families, which was basically the only time you were apart. It had only been three weeks, and yet somehow it felt like lifetimes. Maybe it was because he was so deeply ingrained into your daily life. Maybe it was the play fights that normally ended with you holding an ice pack to your shoulder. Or maybe it was the spontaneous knocks on his apartment door at two in the morning with nothing but the pajamas on your back. Or maybe it was the hushed whispers of childish secrets under fortresses made of blankets and pillows. 

Or maybe, it was just him. 

Maybe it was because you just missed seeing that annoying yet frustratingly pretty face that told you he was up to no good. Maybe it was the disarmingly handsome and boyish smile that fueled the competitive rage within you. Maybe it was how despite all his tricky smirks and winks, he still looked like he was hand carved by angels when he slept, like they had put utmost care in crafting the most perfect human in the universe. 

Maybe. 

You should’ve known better than to let these thoughts fill your head once again. You could daydream about how much you hated and loved Jeon Jungkook for hours. If only he’d actually let you do it in peace. 

His fingers twisted mercilessly into the skin of your thigh and you yelped at the sting. It was partly your fault seeing as you had made it easy for him by putting your feet right in front of him. But still how dare he?

“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, letting his fingers rest after the sharp pinch. It was your turn to glare at him and you reeled your foot back to kick his knee, not too hard but not gently either. 

“No. I don’t listen to stupid things,” 

You knew what he was thinking: That’s such an eight year old thing to say.

Well joke’s on him. If you were eight years old then so was he. 

“I was asking you...” he rolled his eyes, leaning back to stare at the TV again. “...how your break was?” 

“It was good,” you smiled a bit. “Spent time with my family. Had my dad’s food after dealing with your horrible cooking for so long,” 

Instead of the same glare you had been on the receiving end of for the better portion of the night, Jungkook rewarded your statement with a good-natured chuckle. At least he knew his cooking was subpar. You grinned. 

“How about you?” 

“Ah y’know? Same thing as you. Spent time with the family blah blah. We went on a road trip,” 

“Nice,” you sighed, still smiling as you leaned back into the couch and closed your eyes. “You came back a week earlier than I did though,” 

“Yeah that’s because you and your family took that fancy trip to Europe,” he mocked and you smirked. 

“You could at least try to pretend you aren’t jealous,” 

Jungkook scoffed out a chuckle and began surfing his channels again, letting a comfortable silence overtake the both of you. Well, of course it was comfortable. Awkwardness was not a thing when it came to you and your best friend. Keeping your eyes closed for too long almost always led you to falling asleep, and you would have gotten there this time too, if it wasn’t for the sudden yell from the boy next to you. 

“Oh fuck, wait! I forgot to tell you!” he screeched, his eyes going wide. You jumped, eyes peeling open before scowling at him and punching his bicep. 

“What the fuck, Jeon? What is it!?” 

“So while you were gone...I did it,” he grinned, sitting up straight. Immediately, you knew what it meant. As much as you wanted to pretend like you didn’t get it, you knew. The way his cheeks began to slowly bloom with color was another huge giveaway. That only happened for one thing. 

“Shut up,” your jaw dropped, lips twitching upward. “You didn’t!” 

“I did,” he said proudly. His smile was so genuine, so real, and it made you so indescribably happy. And yet it didn’t. 

“And?” you pressed, moving to sit on your knees and grabbing his arm. 

“And…” he drew out with a concealed smile. “And she said yes!” 

You cheered loudly and he laughed, his arms naturally coming to wrap around you and give you a squeeze. You giggled at the feeling, the feeling of comfort that came from being next to him, with him. 

“Aw I’m so happy for you, Kookie,” you mumbled, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. His laugh shook his whole body as you buried your face into his sweatshirt. 

“Thanks Peanut,” he chuckled. “I was so fucking nervous you should’ve seen me,” 

The thought of your normally confident and suave best friend being all flustered brought a smile to your face. Oh, how you wished you could’ve been the one to see it. 

“Yeah that’s because you’re scared of girls,” you teased. It was a running joke amongst Jungkook’s closest friends. A joke that obviously wasn’t very true. 

“And what about you?” he laughed. “Are you not a girl?” 

“I’m not that type of girl to you,” you smiled ruefully. 

“Nah,” he grinned, his eyes shining in blissful ignorance. “You’re my special girl,” 

But not that type of special. 

Other than the smile you gave him, you didn’t respond to that. You don’t know what to say to it anymore. You stayed there for a few more minutes, shamefully enjoying Jungkook’s arms around you. You hid your weak smile from him because he’d immediately be able to catch how upset it was. How selfish could you be to take advantage of his love for you? He loves you. You’re his special girl. He said it himself. He’s not lying. 

But you’re lying to yourself when you say that it means something. It means something. But not what you want it to.

How many times had you shakily typed into the search bar: How to confess to your best friend?

How many more times would you need to type before you realized what you already knew?

Jungkook gently pushed you off of him, not in a way that was intentionally cruel and yet somehow it felt that way. He stood up and stretched, a tired groan leaving his lips as he popped a few joints. 

“I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” 

“In a few,” you smiled, the facade taking over you easily. Of course, after all this time, the practice had made you a master at hiding. He grinned at you, the boyish grin that masked the tiredness in his eyes. Tired eyes that lit up when they looked at you. But sparkled and softened when they looked at her. 

You sat there on the couch for a while, a few measly minutes that felt as though they were stretched into long hours. Thinking like this, alone, was dangerous for you. No matter how many times you’d tried to clear it, Jungkook remained, his hold on you becoming stronger as every second passed. It wouldn’t get any easier in the future. You knew this and you knew it well. 

The pain in your chest came fast and familiar. You brought your hand up to your lips to muffle the sound of your harsh cough. Pulling it away, you looked down at the petals in your palm. 

Tiger Flower. 

Poetic isn’t it? His birth flower. You smiled at your palm. With your other hand, you reached into the small bag at your feet, the bag reserved for overnight stays at Jungkook’s house. The pamphlet you pulled out was curled at the edges and crumpled in certain areas due to how much time you had spent looking through it. 

Your mom had told you about the surgery as soon as the petals started coming. Everyone was worried, because they knew what would happen if you let it go. Everyone except him of course. Poor thing, he didn’t even know. 

You stood up and walked into the bathroom to dust the petals into the trash. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to let Jungkook go. There was no pain that would be greater to you. Jungkook was real and he was the only real thing that mattered to you. You were his special girl. How could you even think of letting him go? 

Chuckling to yourself, you made the decision and felt your heart tear. 

You grasped the pamphlet in both hands and tore it in half, then quarters, then eighths, until it was nothing more than uneven shreds in your palms. With a bittersweet smile, you dusted the shreds into Jungkook’s trash can, before following him into his room, ready to build another fortress of blankets.

.

.

.

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

Proposition and Accord-part VII

"Ghoooost! Good noon!"

"Hello!"

You opened your eyes slowly, barely awake from the deep sleep you had. The grogginess in your voice shadowed by the abnormal deepness of the voice changer.

"Hey, ghost."

"Corpse! Always pleased to hear you."

"Always ,ey?" Toast picked what you said in a more suggestive tone, teasing you with it.

"Cut it ,man."

You didn't bite on the trap however.

" Anyway, mind if I bring a friend?"

"Of course!"

"Sure why not."

"Okay,brb."

"So ,Corpse..."

"To early for that ,Toast."

Near the white astronaut Ghost had, a new little one came. It was black with a pair of headphones and a Wall-e companion. On top the name Charon was displayed.

The others started circling the new mate as Corpse's pink character stood unmoved by your side.

"Good evening!" A low and mature voice came from a woman. It didn't had a mechanical effect to it so it was coming in naturally.

"Hiiiii!"

"Hello!"

"Guys this is Andreea, Andreea this is the Peanut gallery."

"Ha,nice. Good to meet you all."

"Likewise."

"You too."

"Your robot is cute." Corpse remarked.

You smirked when your phone immediately lighted up. A message from Andreea written in big bold letters: 'HIS VOICE IS HOT!'

'I know :)))'

"Andreea , you know how to play this game?"

"Y-Yeah ummm..."

"Sykkuno."

"Sykkuno! Yeah, I know me and Y- I mean ghost sometimes play it. "

"You play together?"

"Well yeah, we play Fallout together, sometimes Minecraft even Eyes the horror game. Speaking of which ghost?"

"Yeah?"

"My place tonight?"

You smirked knowing what's to come.

"Time to corrupt another soul?"

You laughed was intentionally made to be interpreted by the others as evil and dark. In the inside you cringed, you sounded so stupid.

"Umm,guys?" Sykkuno asked for clarification, to which he will not receive.

"YOU GUYS LIVE IN THE SAME CITY?" Pooki asked all excited for some reason.

"Yeah?"

"Same city? We leave in the same apartment building." Andreea told ,a pleasant hiss rang as her long nailed hands opened a Pepsi can.

'Cola is better'

'Fuck off, Y/n'

':))🖕'

"That's so cute!"

"I guess,but she's a pain."

"A pain? Moi? Please, I am only in pain not one."

The others chuckled at your shenanigans, the humour between you and Andreea being based in play fighting, cursing each other and bumping as hard as you can into each. Considering how much of a height difference is between you two, everything just gets more interesting.

"Maan,I want to stay in the same building with you guys also." Corpse pouted.

You two sounded really nice to be with, especially you. You were fun to talk witg and your natural voice was a godsend to his anxiety and insomnia. It made him sometimes slip into a blissful sleep,especially when you began reading to him Doom lore in the late hours of the night.

' "The Maykrs' need for the Essence is prime. Without it they must suffer the monstrous fate of Transfiguration, and see their wisdom and faculties slither from their twisted forms. By bidding of the Khan Maykr herself, the Order of the Deag has devised a method to improve and accelerate the production of the Hell aura. What once took eons for the savage beasts to attai...oof. Wait."

Corpse heard you move in the bed, your body getting its pressure off it before settling back in.

He wanted to start to ask you to read again when he was interrupted by the sound of smooching ? You were kissing somebody?

You puffed and smiled as Sergiu bombarded you with another waves of kisses, a tradition in your group. You all were touched starved creatures so you showed your platonic affections through hand holding, sudden hugging, cuddling- sometimes propping your cold feet on the other person's back just to be dickish- and rains of kisses.

Sergiu was the most affectionate out of all of you, the rain of kisses being something that his mother used to do before she left to work. 'A kiss on the forehead to brighten your thinking, two on the cheeks so no one is lonely and one wherever you want.'

"Alright! Alright! I get it, you are leaving!"

You laughed as you pushed the cuddly golden retriver of a man away.

His chains attached to his black leather belt with grey 3d rombes running all over it clicked as it bounced. His hair smudged on the worn out black leather jacket and his face all but a smile. He was happy and you love to see it.

-Vrei ceva? ("You want something?")

-Umm...PIZZA PĂTRATĂ DE LA DEDEMAN ȘI MOUNTAIN DEW.("Um...SQUARE SHAPED PIZZA FROM DEDEMAN AND MOUNTAIN DEW.")

The man laughed at your antics, roughing up your freshly washed hair and closing the door as he left.

"Corpse? You still there buddy?"

Corpse felt a pang in his chest, you sounded like you have much more fun with the other person. He knew it was stupid but he couldn't help feel jealous and worried at the same time. He wanted to be the reason to make you sound so happy and he didn't want to be worried of being replaced anytime soon.

"Corpse? My petit orchid? Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah,I am fine."

It came out shaky and too abrupt for your liking. Something's wrong and you didn't want to overstep your boundaries but you couldn't let him go about his day while having something munching on his good mood.

"Hey,hey Corpse."

"Yes?"

"Wanna see my cat?"

"YOU HAVE A CAT?"

"Yes,so do you..."

"Hell yeah. I mean...sure I am cool with that."

You shook your head and became giggling, it's good to know you weren't the only one who didn't know how to cover their slip ups.'

"Trust me Corpse. You don't want to live with this anxiety filled owl."

"HEY! My anxiety adds spice."

"Oh my god!"

"Guys, guys. Can we start the game please?"

"Oh for sure."

————————————————————

"Watch out for the wall, ghost. Watch out for--GHOST! Oh shit ,I lost her guys! Ghost, where are you?"

His character ran in desperate search to find you. When it left the snowy environment from outside , it stopped abruptly. You were there in the office with Sykkuno ripped apart body in front of you.

"Oh shit! Sykkuno!"

His thoughts ran wilde as they hurried to reach a consensus. He knew that you will probably kill him also as you waited for those 10 seconds to pass.

His premonition was proven true went you shut the doors of the office , your character moving slowly towards him.

"Ahhh! Guys ,what the hell do I do?"

His eyes clenched shut as his finger hovered the report button.

The sound of a meeting went off,forcing him to let out the breath he's been withholding. His hands shook as he relaxed himself when his friends started discussing aka screaming at each other.

Someone else called in another body.

You held your fingernails between your lips, leg bouncing from the nerves. You knew Corpse will snitch you out,after all you did killed Sykkuno.

I am so fucked...

Your body covered in a white and black hoodie contorted itself into a smaller position.You ignored the pain that your dead thighs were trying to emit while being in a cross position. Head to busy with anxious thoughts of what Corpse may do.

"Phew, Jesus. I am too nervous for this game."

Andreea's words caught you off guard. She nervous? It's more likely than you think.

Your feelings long forgotten as your protective nature sprung out of the shell.

"You? Nervous? Andreea you are a freaking talented tattoo artist."

"It doesn't matter, my hands are sweating like they are the Danube river."

"Wait ,are you a tattoo artist?"

"Yeah ,I am. I started tatto--"

Mission accomplished! Your goal wasn't to comfort, you knew you sucked at that but to distract. To take her mind away from whatever cause her pain ,then to secretly totally not obviously attack the shit of whatever upset her even bad vibes. Fuck them bad vibes! You and your friends are bad bitches not second hand embarrassments.

"It will be nice if I could do henna also but this hoarding gremlin was only calm enough when she did them. So basically it became her summer job."

Ah. Your mind realised she was telling them how you two met.

You wanted to get some henna tattoos, see if you liked the way the look at you. Andrea was just a beginner when you entered the tattoo shop and her life.

You weren't always an anxious person,the situation changed when your math teacher decided to be a bitch and humiliate you for not knowing geometry. Since then you were always out of breath when you spoke in public, always bouncing your leg when stressed , biting off your nails and having a constant dread when it came socialising with others. And when you are a big girl that amplifies considerably.

People are just shallow like that and you learned a long time ago that their intolerance towards you was a THEY problem rather than a YOU problem.

It's hard thought, sometimes their words and disgusted glares burn you from inside out. Make you feel inhuman ,that your anger,sadness and your passion don't mean anything ,that they are not valid, that you cannot be yourself and liked at the same time nevermind seen as a romantic interest.

But I digress, when it came with Andreea ,everything when abnormally smooth, you joked and laughed, bitch about people and so on. You hit off immediately.

So when you wanted to make a bit of cash ,Andreea didn't hesitate to teach you how to do temporary tattooing.

"That's so nice guys,the body was in specimen room by the way." Dave said.

The others for some reason started blaming Rae , you didn't said nothing as you were still waiting with your breath tight for Corpse to rat you out.

"Corpse? Where were you by the way?"

Here comes the expose.

"I ..uh...wait. I was in the storage then I met Sykkuno in the office but left with ghost."

What?

"Ghost? Can you collaborate his story?"

"Yeah , me and him left Sykkuno. I think orange was with him last time we saw. I am done with my tasks by the way."

"What?"

"LUDWIG! HOW DARE YOU KILL SYKKUNO?!" Corpse growled.

You muted yourself as you squealed. You couldn't believe him. He really took your side!

You took a sip of your green tea, patting yourself on the back for being calm and getting back in the game.

————————————————————

"How could you ,Corpse? I trusted you and you stab me behind my back." Sykkuno exclaimed, pout evident in his voice.

"I am sorry Sykkuno..i-it's just...I...uhh.."

Your microphone was not muted this time so when you burst in laughter you dominated the whole discussion. You laughed ugly but happy as you always did, holding your lower abdomen as it clenched muscle you didn't know you have.

"It's NOT funny, ghost!"

"It'S nOt FuNnY, GhOsT! Bwahaha..."

Despite laughing ,deep down you worried you may have offended your new friends? Nah, too early to call them that.

"I think I know why Corpse did what he did." Grease started in a dramatic sober voice.

"You mean cheated on Sykkuno."

Ludwig ignited couple of laughter from the group.

"Yeah. He did it....drumb rolls please. "

Sean provided the suspenseful roll.

"Because he is a SIMP."

"WHAT?"

"No way..."

"You heard me."

The group went wilde. You didn't know what you could say, your mind crazy yet also numb. Poor Corpse.

"Hey, hey. Guys, please calm down. If you want to come for someone, come for my neck."

Your hands flared up into a peaceful backing sign, you knew of Corpse's bad anxiety and you didn't want to cause him distress by bringing the limelight into his face.

"It's alright, ghost. I am a big boy, I can take it."

You tried to keep it short, you really did but your mind wanted to say one more thing.

"Just like you can open foil?"

You heard a breath intake. You lowered your volume, thinking of what he may do.

"I FUCKING HATE FOIL!"

————————————————————

"Tonight was fun." Corpse said after taking a sip of water.

"Yeah, it was."

You watched your dark hair moving in the air as you played with your toes.

"Sorry again for bringing all the...uh...attention on you."

"It's fine,ghost. I know you didn't mean it."

"Y/n."

"What?"

"My name is Y/n."

Ah!

His heart jumped a bit ,you told him your name that means you trust him right. Lily doesn't know your name so he is the first to know. The first to guard this special information.

"Ghost was kinda wearing down,you know?"

"Y-yeah,...uhh..I mean no! Yes? No? Fuck...It's a pretty name,um...Y/n."

You haulted, getting used to him saying your name will take a while.

"Heh,thanks Corpsie."

"Mhmmm, did you have time to think about what I told you?"

Couple of nights ago,Corpse proposed the idea of starting your own Youtube channel. You were hesitant.

"Corpse, I told I don't think people really like me. I think they just like the voice."

"Non sense. You watched our stream?"

"Noo...? Sorry,I didn't really have time to..."

"Hey, it's okay goofball. Anyway,they were asking more videos with you. Maybe some of them like you because of your voice but most of them like you because they like your personality, gh- Y/n."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Look you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just feel bad for all the fans that want to talk with you or sometimes I found something funny and I want to send you or tag you. It's stupid I know."

You didn't like the sad tone of his, your heart tightened and your worries worsened.

"I think I am going to sleep. Goodnight, ghost."

"'Night,Corpse."

You were left in the darkness of your room, at the end of the bed with your long fingers reaching towards your knife, your personal fidget spinner. You chew your nail as you moved the blade unconsciously.

Corpse's account:

.ghost added you. Add them back?

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖💖

Hope you like the seventh part of the serie. I almost went into a writing block with this one.

Anyway, have a nice day!💗💗

Tagged💖💖: @moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @mythicalamphitrite @yoyoanaria @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @gaysludge @softboiicorpse @heavenly3308

[ri-ahhh]

desert secrets: pt 2

A continuation of desert secrets, written with it originally but I decided not to post it with pt 1 because it seemed like it toed the line in how realistic it would be, but I’m gonna post it now anyways. Take it as you will.

warnings: all smut

***

She leads him by the hand to the tent entrance, grateful to past MJ for already setting out the sleeping bag and oversized blanket. Tossing her phone on the ground, she watches Grayson do the same to his flashlight as she plops rather ungracefully to the canvas floor and kicks off her shoes. Once she had the lantern turned on, illuminating the confined space of the tent in bright, artificial light, she grabs his forearm to drag him down with her. They share a heated look before he lays her back and meets her lips with his once again.

MJ moans softly and wraps one arm around his neck, the other around his back as they settle on the sleeping bag, her on her back and him on his side. One of his legs slips between hers and his left arm pillows the back of her head while his right hand makes broad strokes over her waist, up to brush the side of her breast, and back down to squeeze her ass. This earns him another sweet moan even as his tongue plunders her mouth with expert ease. She doesn't want to think about how much practice the kid has probably had in his not-so-distant earlier years.

Unfortunately, she’s thinking about it now, and a surge of irrational jealousy and possessiveness charges through her. She hitches the leg laying atop his higher up his hip and grinds down on the erection she hadn't even noticed until this moment. Grayson huffs out breathlessly at the contact, and she grins against his lips, emboldened by the effect she has on him. That ‘fuck it’ thought comes over her — quite literally — and, again, she chooses to follow it instinctively.

“Can we have sex?” she whispers, slipping her hand under his shirt and dragging her long, manicured nails down the smooth skin of his back, rubbing her center against the hard ridge of him once again. MJ takes full responsibility for the fact that she’s so intentionally manipulating his horny, 20 year-old man hormones, but she thinks if she doesn’t have him, she’s going to explode — and not in the way she wants to.

He looks at her, shock written clearly on his face. The fact that he seems to genuinely not have expected to fuck, even while she’s rocking steadily on his dick, endears him to her even more now.

“Y-yeah. Are you sure?” he asks, aiding her motions with the hand resting on her ass. The layers between them are thin, and she smiles when his eyes flutter as his hand makes the heat of her pussy even more palpable against him.

MJ nods. “I’ve got condoms in my bag.” Grayson opens his eyes and looks at her amusedly. She laughs, pinching his side playfully. “Don’t judge. A girl should always be prepared.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. In fact, I’m pretty damn thankful,” he says with a grin. She watches him like a hawk as he sits up and — she can practically hear the angels singing — lifts his t-shirt up and over his head.

“Dude, what is your body? I look like an actual marshmallow next to you,” she marvels incredulously. She works hard at the gym and in the kitchen so she knows she isn’t necessarily flabby by any means, but she definitely has some natural hips, tits, and ass, as well as the thighs that come with them. Still, she’s no Kardashian or anything, while he’s serving all the Chris Evans/Captain America vibes.

Grayson scoffs and drags his hoodie over her head before toying with the hem of her tank, eyeing her questioningly. She lifts her arms in answer and he smirks. “Not unless ‘marshmallow’ also means ‘in-shape, slim-thick baddie,’” he says before peeling away the thin fabric.

Her cheeks flush at his compliment, and it gives her the confidence to wiggle out of her strappy sports bra right then as well, hoping she doesn’t look too ridiculous struggling out of the tight, confining material. Luckily, her movements must cause her tits to jiggle in just the right way, because Grayson is already groaning at the sight by the time she tosses the garment across the tent.

“So, next secret about me,” he offers, cupping one of the pliable mounds in his warm hand and brushing her rosy nipple lightly with his thumb, “I’m 100% a boob man.”

MJ grins and threads her fingers through the back of his hair, guiding his mouth to her chest. She moans softly when his lips suction around the erect bud while his other hand massages the opposite breast, her supple flesh spilling out between his thick, calloused fingers. “So you’re saying they could be any old tits and you’d be happy?”

Grayson hums and shakes his head, releasing her with a small pop. “I’m saying you have amazing tits,” he corrects, trailing his tongue to her other nipple. “Soft and round…” he flicks his tongue lightly over it, and her eyes nearly roll back at the sensation. “Perky…” he contrasts the barely-there touch of his tongue with a harsh suck, causing her to arch off the sleeping bag. “34D?”

MJ lets out a breathless little laugh. “Yes, actually. That’s kind of gross,” she remarks, tugging on his hair.

Grayson laughs too and raises his head to devour her in a deep kiss. MJ sighs and wraps her arms around him as he continues to squeeze and massage her tits tenderly. She lifts her hips in an effort to make contact with his again, and Grayson thankfully takes her cues at once. He lowers himself to his forearms, grinding into her deliciously, but with their skin still separated by the pesky clothing covering their bottom halves.

She pushes back on his solid chest, a string of their mixed saliva snapping between their lips as he hovers over her. She admires his beautiful flushed face, his heaving abdomen, and the large erection that’s not hidden in the slightest by his red athletic shorts.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, amazed that she’s somehow got this sculpture-worthy man all to herself. “Get naked, please.”

He grins widely at her and obeys without hesitation. MJ shucks her own shorts and soaked panties, grateful for the fact that she had just gotten fully waxed only a couple of days ago. As she watches him strip, she can’t stop her hand from trailing down to her pussy, tracing her embarrassingly wet folds delicately. She definitely shouldn't be this aroused just from some heavy petting and amazing kisses; the realization hits that he hasn't even touched her clit yet, and the anticipation in her pussy for him to actually get his hands on her becomes ten-fold.

Grayson watches her with dark eyes and growls at the sight before him. She had shoved her free arm under her pillow, which enunciates the amazing curves of her hourglass figure. Her slim fingers lightly trace her smooth pussy, teasing herself gently. MJ knows he can see how wet she is even as he kicks off his shoes and socks and drags his shorts down his tattooed legs, desperate to feel her heat around him. When he drops to his knees with a groan, MJ eyes his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs that still cover his bottom half with disdain.

“Hey,” she pouts at him, breath hitching when his hands trail down her inner thighs to spread her open wider and make room for himself. She swallows hard, her skin tingling and pussy flooding even more at his touch. “Underwear. Off.”

“In a minute,” he mutters, his hand dipping between her legs experimentally, watching her face for clues of what she likes. “I need to touch you.”

MJ immediately squeaks and clutches at the blanket by her side, waiting not-so-patiently for him to light upon her clit or slip a thick finger inside her. “Grayson, please…”

At her begging, she gets the latter. Her back arches and a satisfied moan leaves her lips when he pumps it in and out slowly, her breath hitching in her chest. “More,” she instructs on a whimper, dragging him to her for a kiss.

He follows the pressure of her hand on the back of his neck, but right before he meets her lips with his, Grayson diverts his mouth directly to her ear. “I didn't hear a ‘please’ there, MJ.”

His hot breath sends delicious shivers down her spine that meet with those created by his finger, and she shudders, grinning. “More, please,” she corrects, looking him in the eye with a seductive smile. He returns it as he adds another finger to her center and presses his thumb to her clit as well. “Fuck, yes, Grayson.”

“You like that?” he murmurs hotly. She can’t look away from him, watching him watch her face contort beautifully under his ministrations. He groans himself and drops wet, open-mouthed kisses on her collar bone, working them up her neck to sink his teeth into the delicate pulse point there. His voice vibrates against her sensitive skin when he speaks again. “You wish it was my dick fucking your sweet little pussy?”

MJ whines her affirmation and grips the muscular forearm that supports him as he brings her closer and closer to the precipice of what promises to be an amazing orgasm. She can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed by the sloppy wet sounds coming from her pussy. Grayson smirks and, sensing how close she is, presses more firmly on her clit and curls his fingers inside her.

Immediately she arches off the ground with a high-pitched squeal as she cums harder than she has in a really, really long time. “Gray-son,” she sighs, her eyes closed as she rides out the waves, her hips jerking a little in time with the aftershocks. “Shit…”

“Do you want another one?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he withdraws his two fingers from inside her and instead used them to rub tight, quick circles over her swollen clit.

She has no idea how, considering how sensitive and satisfied she is from the first one, but somehow he is indeed already drawing another orgasm out of her. Words and sounds are non-existent as her mouth gapes open in sheer pleasure until she cums again, a guttural groan finally escaping her and filling the tent. She had no idea it’s possible to feel so overwhelmingly good, especially from a man; for the first time that she can remember, the vibrator in her underwear drawer at home is being given a run for its money.

“Okay, okay, I can’t!” she whines, grasping his wrist to stop his movements, unable to bear the sensation anymore. “Holy fucking shit.”

Grayson can’t resist trailing his fingers through her dripping slit as he pulls them out of her, and sucking them into his mouth, moaning wantonly at her taste. MJ watches him with heavy eyes and fights through the fatigue to surge up and suck his tongue into her mouth. They make out for a few minutes, letting her sensitivity fade some while still letting hands and lips roam all over each other, exploring new territory everywhere they go.

“Condoms are in the inside pocket of my backpack,” she eventually whispers into his ear, tugging on the lobe with her teeth. “And get those boxers off, now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he jokes, crawling to the corner of the tent where her backpack is and digging through the pockets until he finds the strip of foil squares.

He shucks his underwear as instructed and MJ has to bite back a moan at the sight of his last concealed body part, standing tall and hard between his tattooed thighs. She’s as pleased as she has been with the rest of him, to say the least.

“Let me,” she insists, reaching for the single square he had separated from the pack. Grayson obliges and sucks in a breath, releasing it on a masculine groan when her hand closes around his thick length and pumps him a few times reverently. As much as she would love to make him fall apart with her hand or mouth, she’s too selfish to wait for him to recover enough to fuck her. And she wants him to fuck her, desperately; she needs him to fuck her.

She rips open the prophylactic and rolls it down his dick, bringing him down for a deep kiss as he settles between her legs. Their hips grind together a few times, drawing deep moans out of both of them.

“Can I tell you one more secret?” she whispers after a few moments, pulling back just enough so that her lips still move against his.

“Of course,” he replies, grinning and nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

MJ bites her lip, those earlier insecurities creeping back up just enough to make her feel like she needs to voice them. The weight of everything comes crashing down on her, and she takes a moment to gather herself as best she can with both of their brains lust-fogged and ready to go.

“I just want you to know that I’ve never really done this before,” she says finally. She can’t hold back a bark of laughter at his abashed face, only realizing now how that sounds. “Not like that. I mean, I’ve never had sex on the first date, or whatever this is tonight. I don’t think I’ve even had a one-night stand, actually. I just don’t want you to think…bad of me, I guess. Or think that I have sex with random boys in the desert all the time. Or ever. Not that that would be a bad —”

Grayson sighs with relief and shakes his head with a little smile, tracing his index finger over her lips to cut off rambling. MJ blushes and stares up at him sheepishly. “Sorry.”

His eyes are soft and reassuring. “You just threw me off there for a second. But I’m not judging you either way, MJ, that’s the last thing on my mind. I thought I told you this wasn’t a game to me, right? You want this, I want this, and it feels right.”

MJ smiles happily and nods, then kisses him again. “In that case,” she says, reaching between them to line him up with her center, “can you fuck me now?”

The lighthearted chuckle he’s about to let out turns into a rough moan at the feel of the head of his dick slipping between the warm wetness of her pussy lips. It draws him in like a siren’s call, and he pushes his hips forward slowly, letting her stretch around him with only a little discomfort due to his steady, experienced movements.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers, once he’s fully seated within her.

“Mmm,” she hums in agreement, relishing in the sensation of being filled so completely. She takes a moment to let them both adjust to him being inside her before planting her feet on the ground and raising her pelvis in an attempt to get him to move. He moans and follows her canting hips right away. As soon as MJ feels his body respond, she continues to rock her hips to meet his steady thrusts, making her body sing as they work together in a synchronous rhythm.

“Grayson!” she cries when he hooks her knees over the crooks of his elbows and changes the angle. She grasps at his bulging biceps and he quickens the pace, leaving her unable to keep up with the deliciously unrelenting snap of his hips.

He growls and flits his heated gaze back and forth between her rosy face and bouncing tits. “So fucking hot, MJ,” he groans, dipping his head to suckle at the junction of her neck and shoulder, reaching even deeper inside of her; she can’t bring herself to care that he’ll definitely leave a mark. “Pussy’s so wet and tight.”

The combined sounds of her girlish moans, his heavy huffs of breath, and the slick noises of their bodies coming together fills the confined space of the tent, amplifying her pleasure that much more. Her nails, long but somewhat blunt from her manicure, move to scratch across his back and drag down his serratus, making him visibly shiver.

As good as this is, her mind and body scream for more, more, more. She finds her voice somehow, moving one hand to his cheek and slipping her thumb between his lips. Grayson moans and sucks the digit into his mouth, making her pussy throb.

“I want you from behind… please,” she makes sure to tack on at the end.

“Yes,” he agrees immediately with a growl, pulling out of her long enough for her to flip over onto her elbows and knees. She feels weirdly empty without him, even for the brief moment.

When he pushes back into her, MJ’s eyes roll back in her head, and her cheek drops to her forearms. From the spot his dick hit the moment he’s inside her in this position, she knows somehow that this boy is going to make her come for a third time tonight. Any and all inhibition is lost then.

Her hands find purchase with a tight grip in the sleeping bag, and she arches her back as deep as she can as his hips slam against her ass over and over again. His tongue licks a seductive trail up her spine while one hand toys with her breast roughly, the other gripping her shoulder for leverage.

“Gonna blow your back out, baby,” he promises directly into her ear, his voice dripping with lust and confidence and drawing raspy, breathless moans from her lips.

“Ohhh, fuck! Harder, harder…” she whines, her jaw slack. Grayson doesn’t argue about her lack of begging as he grabs her long, loosened ponytail and wraps it around his wrist, sucking another deep red mark into her shoulder while he pounds into her.

Normally by now she would drop a hand down to rub herself, but she likes it rough like this so much that she doesn’t need any stimulation on her clit; if she had any brainpower left in her, she would have thought to reach between them to play with his balls instead, but the pleasure clouding her brain is simply too much.

“Like that?” he asks brokenly into her hair as he tugs hard enough on the thick, dark brown strands to lift her head back and give him access to kiss her sloppily. They’re both losing control fast.

The added intimacy of his lips on hers was all she really needs, and she feels her swollen walls tighten around his dick. “Oh my god, Grayson…I’m gonna cum,” she sobs, falling over the edge the next moment. It’s so intense, she can’t support her weight as her legs shake uncontrollably from the force of her orgasm. She slips down on the slick material of the sleeping bag as Grayson continues to fuck her down into the ground, her hips digging into the hard surface with the force of his thrusts, but it’s nearly imperceptible to her.

The grunts and curses he’s huffing breathlessly into her ear let her know he’s close, too. Sure enough, it’s only moments later until he’s groaning, “Yes, MJ… fuck!”

MJ feels him swell almost imperceptibly inside her before he explodes, rocking his hips into her in time with the spurts of his cum and a long, drawn out moan of relief escaping his full lips. It’s by far the sexiest sound she’s ever heard.

When he’s done, he pulls out and rolls off of her with a sigh, taking care to not crush her with his weight. As he pulls the condom off and ties it, MJ grabs the blanket and throws it over the two of them, snuggling into his outstretched arms.

There’s comfortable silence as they both catch their breath before he breaks it with a laugh. “Holy fuck,” he says incredulously, shaking his head and pressing his lips to her sweaty hair in a brief kiss. “That might have been the best sex of my life.”

MJ flushes even more than she already is. “Of your life? I’m four years older than you and I’ve never had a guy make me come more than once, but you did it three times,” she counters. She can practically see his ego swell before her, and she smiles as he tips her chin up so he can kiss her lips lightly. “So, ah, did we fuck the magic out of the night?”

Grayson looks down at her like she’s absolutely crazy. “Hell no. In fact…” he smirks and turns on his side, propping his head up with his elbow and tracing the features of her face with the fingers of his other hand. “Wanna know one more secret?”

She nods, transfixed by the shade of green his eyes have turned post-coitus.

“I don’t know that you'll be able to get rid of me any time soon, Makenna Jean,” he admits quietly, dropping a kiss to her nose.

MJ grins back at him, his touch lulling her into an even deeper state of serenity. “Good thing I wasn't planning on it, Grayson…something.”

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

 Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@sjmships​ @sleeping-and-books​ @sirgwaines​ @books-for-sure​ @blowing-mikey​ @b00kworm​ @wineywitch202​ @drielecarla​ @liquifyme​ @gisellefigue08​ @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter​ @loysydark​ @stardelia​ @sayosdreams​ @maastrash​ @superspiritfestival​ @courtofjurdan​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @thewayshedreamed @booksstorm