#so he knows that too. but god. GOD. im sewing my mouth shut

[enwrites]

Cloud Nine (p.sh)

parings: brother’s bff!sunghoon x afab!reader

warning: 18+ MDNI !! not proofread (sorry for mistakes)

genre/cw: smut, e2l, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sunghoon is a creep kinda, brother’s best friend trope, spit play, oral (male receiving), pillow riding, degradation, size kink, strength play, choking, breeding, spanking, sunghoon is pretty mean to reader, one year age gap, jay is your brother (lmk if anything was missed!)

synopsis: You and Sunghoon have never gotten along. Ever. Constant bickering and fights to the point your brother is fed up as well. What no one knew was how badly you wanted Sunghoon spewing those same words to your face in your bed. What happens when he sees something he shouldn’t have seen?

wc: 3.6k words

a/n: hi hi !! this is my first ever fic on here !! pls let me know how this was and im happy to receive any feedback <3 a hee fic is currently in the works, i just had sunghoon brain rot so i needed to let this one out LOL (update: part two coming soon ;))

[ masterlist ] [ part 2 ]

From as long as you remember, you have always hated your brother’s best friend— Park Sunghoon. Nothing about him amused you and you especially hated the way he always seems to be at your house every weekend. You couldn’t escape him. From his annoying laugh to his stupid ego, you hated everything.

But you couldn’t help but be so attracted to him. Yes, he was annoying but man was he just everything in a package. Tall and gorgeous… not to mention his insanely fit body. You couldn’t help but wonder how big he’d be, hovering over your small frame. But everything disappears in an instant the moment you hear loud knocks on your door. 

“Y/n can you get that! It’s Sunghoon!” your brother Jay yells at you from the kitchen. The knocks persist as you stay put, pretending to ignore your older brother as it was his friend anyways. Why should you open the door for a monster? “Y/n please, I’ll make you something to eat too,” your brother begs you. With a loud groan you mutter a “fine” and drag yourself off the couch, heading to the door to open it. Before he could loudly bang on the door once more, you pull the door open. He looks at you with a disgusted face. 

“Ugh, did not wanna see your face at the door,” he spits, walking past you making sure to bump your shoulder with his. You slam the door shut giving an annoyed smile back at him.

“If you had forgotten, this has been my house forever, you’re lucky I even open the door for heathens like you,” you spit back, your voice laced with venom. He squints his eyes at you, sticking his tongue out as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “Jay, can you tell your annoying little sister to shut the hell up for once oh my god,” Sunghoon complained to Jay as he walked into the Kitchen.

“How about you both shut the hell up,” Jay annoyedly said rolling his eyes as he put the pizza he’s been working on in the oven. He was never fond of the both of you constantly barking at one another. He thought maybe he was insane for thinking he felt some sort of tension between the two of you. He loved you both but seriously wished he could sew both of your mouths together whenever he felt like it. 

“HE STARTED IT!” You yelled in protest. You crossed your arms as you stood at the kitchen doorway, Sunghoon sticking his tongue out at you once again before turning to Jay. 

“I don’t care who started it, can you both just give me a single day of peace!” Jay exclaims letting out a sigh. A migraine was surely going to form sooner or later for him. Before you both can protest, he ushers the both of you out so that he can finish making the pizzas with some sanity left. You both grumpily make your way to the couch and sit on opposite ends. To your surprise, at least your favorite show was playing when you got back to your seat on the couch. 

“This show is so stupid, I’m changing it,” Sunghoon says as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table. Before he could get it, you immediately jumped up and grabbed the remote first.

“NO. This is my favorite show and my house, I’m not letting you change anything,” you loudly said to him. But he wasn’t going to let you go easily. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck if this is your favorite show or not, I wanna watch something else,” He spits back. With that, he lunges at you towards the remote. You hurriedly crawl back to where you were, making sure he couldn’t take the remote away from you. 

“Sunghoon stop it,” You struggled to let out as he was enclosing you on the couch. Your breath starts to hitch the closer he gets to you. You could feel him breathing on you. He pins you beneath him, his arms longer than yours as he reaches for the remote you try to hold behind your head. Sunghoon didn’t realize how compromising of a position you both were in until he finally reached for the remote in your hands and looked down at you.

There you were, under him, staring back at him with your doe eyes, crop top hiked up just a bit to where your bra was showing. He didn’t realize how short your shorts really were until now. Eying you up and down, he licks his lips. His thoughts were interrupted with you trying to get him off of you. You have come to your senses and realized how turned on he had just made you, immediately trying to push him off. He just pins your arms down more, inching closer to your ear.

“Stupid girls like you don’t deserve to do things they wanna do,” he whispers. His hot breath sends tingles down your body and you swear you get a little wetter. You try to push him off once more but he doesn’t budge. “Are you going to apologize to me for being so annoying now?” he asks. He looks at you, finding it amusing the way you’re struggling under him right now. He can’t help but think how you’d look naked under him. Sunghoon has always had a thing for you.

“Apologize for what? For your mother raising a dickface, that's you?” you bite back, rolling your eyes at him. Before he could say anything, Jay yells from

in the kitchen the pizzas are done. Sunghoon loosens his grip which gives you the perfect opportunity to push him down and onto the floor, scurrying your way towards your brother. Sunghoon gets up shaking his head… this wasn’t over for him.

Hours passed since your little altercation with Sunghoon earlier in the living room. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Your mind was racing and it didn’t help that he wore his stupid gray sweatpants once again. Thinking about the way he pinned you down and whispered in your ear was enough to get you excited again. With that, you take your shorts and crop top off, leaving you in just your lace undergarments underneath. You just so happened to put on a white matching set— Sunghoon’s favorite color.

To the thought of Sunghoon, you lean back down onto your bed and start to rub small circles on your panty covered clit. It’s embarrassing how wet you already were just thinking about him. You rub just a bit more, sliding your fingers up and down your pussy, feeling the wetness that pooled down there. But this wasn’t enough. You were so desperate and in need of something to satisfy you. You sit up, grabbing the second pillow beside you, putting it beneath you. 

Folding it just a bit, you straddle it. Slowly grinding down onto the pillow under you, imagining yourself riding Sunghoon. You hump the pillow in desperation, trying to get off. You grind and grind, wishing Sunghoon’s cock filled you up instead. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jay had fallen asleep to the movie he and Sunghoon were watching. Realizing that his friend was asleep, he decided to make his way to find you, just to mess with you again. He always found it so cute how annoyed you’d get to his teasing. But today was different, he wanted more. If it weren’t for Jay, he swears he would’ve taken you on the couch right there and then. Making his way down the long hall towards your room, he notices a faint light coming from the small crack of your door. He carefully steps closer and to his surprise, the sight before him was nothing he ever expected to see in a million years.

There you were, on your bed, wearing nothing but a skimpy lace lingerie set, grinding down on a pillow so desperately. He watches you, making sure he stays as quiet as possible to not get caught. There you were, humping a pillow, your hips grinding over and over, letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard. Did you know your door was a bit cracked? Who cares, he was enjoying the view. 

Sunghoon palms himself as he watches you, not wanting to even blink in fear of missing the show. He just couldn’t believe this was happening. Before the realization of him being a creep watching you pleasure yourself through the crack of your door, that’s when he hears it. You had moaned his name. His dick twitched in his pants, painfully hard and needing to be released.

“S-Sunghoon, you feel so good,” you moaned, increasing your speed on the pillow. He swore he was gonna explode right then and there. He had to have you. But he knew he had to punish you as well. He pushes the door open even more and to his surprise you hadn’t noticed yet. Hell, you haven’t even noticed the fact that he closed the door before him as well.

Loss in your trance, Sunghoon watched you just for a bit before making his move. He clears his throat to get your attention. Startled, you urgently grabbed your blanket to cover yourself, shocked to see Sunghoon in your room. There he looked at you with a smug smile painted on his face.

You swore you saw evil behind those eyes.

“Oh don’t stop now, I was enjoying my show,” he pouts, walking closer to you, standing in front of your bed. “Go on, I’m here now, isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked in a cheeky tone. Your face was red and embarrassment washed over you. You wanted to run away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I’m not gonna tell you again, go on, continue what you were doing,” he demanded, pulling your blanket off of you. You were at a loss for words. But something in you gave into him. You start to straddle the pillow again, grinding your pussy against it. Embarrassed, you tilt your head down, trying to avoid any eye contact. You can’t help but get so turned on as he watches you. You hump your pillow desperately letting out whines and moans, trying your best to not be too loud.

“Hoonie~,” You moaned loudly, humping your pillow as you grew wetter. You felt so dirty. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. You felt like you were on cloud nine and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Sunghoon smirks, he takes in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t take it anymore and slips his pants down, freeing his hard on. He starts to slowly stroke, watching you as you pleasure yourself. His tip was red and angry, leaking a bit of precum already. He wanted to see more of you. 

“Take your bra off,” he demands. You look up at him, shocked to see him pleasuring himself. The sight of his cock making your mouth water. He was huge. No way you can fit that in you, you don’t even think it’ll fit in your mouth. Nevertheless, you obliged and took your bra off, your boobs slowly falling out of the cups. Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself again. He takes his pants and boxers off right away, signaling for you to get closer to him. He needed to feel your mouth on him. 

“As much as I love to see you getting yourself off, I need your pretty little mouth on my cock right now,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside you. He pushes you off the bed and onto your knees right in front of him. Watching you carefully, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your face against his cock. 

“Open wide,” he instructs, hand still in your hair. You reach your hand up to his shaft, opening your mouth to finally get a taste of him. His tip was already leaking. You put his tip in your mouth. He lets out low groans, guiding you as he grips onto your hair even more. As you expected, he definitely could not fit into your mouth. So using your hand that was on his shaft, you start to stroke him as you suck him off. Getting lost in the pleaser, he needed to be down your throat and that he was gonna do. 

“Hands behind your back now,” he firmly said, the tone of his voice catching you off guard but you obliged, your panties getting stickier as the seconds passed. You put your hands behind your back and he starts to buck his hips, his tip reaching further and further down your throat. The sound of him groaning fills the room immediately. You just prayed to the lord your brother was sound asleep. 

With his dick down your throat, you can’t help but feel so turned on. This was dirty, you’ve never deepthroat a dick in your life. Well dicks as big as Sunghoon’s. He watches you, making sure to keep eye contact.

“I’ve always known you were a little whore, but letting me fuck your little mouth while your brother’s asleep down the hall?” he grunts out, slamming his cock in and out of your mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking in the pleasure. He felt as if he was in a dream. Your eyes teary as all you can let out are moans against his dick. Being too turned on, you snaked your hand from behind your back and into your panties. You attempt to rub your clit as he fucks into your mouth. Now it was your turn to close your eyes from the intense pleasure. Your moans intensify, catching Sunghoon’s attention.

There he saw you, touching yourself. As much as he enjoyed watching you get off, never did he allow you to pleasure yourself as you were pleasuring him. He forcefully tugs you by your hair and off his cock, shaking his head at you as if he was disappointed. You take this time to catch your breath, puzzled at why he suddenly stopped. He then pulls you up by your hair, making sure you were eye level with him. He takes his other hand and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks to make sure you were looking right into his eyes. Chills ran through your body.

“Did I say you can touch yourself?” he quietly asks, you can feel his breath on your face. You shake your head, looking pitiful in his eyes. “Did I say you can touch yourself?” he repeats, that venomous tone coming back to his voice. You were nervous. 

“N-No…,” you shakily said. Your breathing intensifies. Sunghoon lets out an almost evil laugh. “I guess this little slut needs a punishment.” 

With that, he tosses you onto the bed. With your backside up, he drags your body to the edge. Standing right behind you, your legs hanging off, he starts to caress your cheeks. Taking in the beauty of your backside, it took everything in him to not take you right there and then. 

“Take your panties off,” he demands. You angle your butt up just a bit and reach behind you, slowly pulling them down, making sure he sees everything. He was watching you as if you were his prey and he was about to get ready to feast on a meal. The glistening sheen of your arousal stares back at him as you fully remove your panties. He couldn’t wait to have you. He makes his way closer to you, one hand on your ass and the other sliding up and down your folds. You were soaking, practically dripping down your legs.

“Please… touch me Hoonie…,” you softly spoke, the lack of physical action killing you on the inside. Still painfully hard and turned on, he swore he was going to explode right there, hearing your soft voice begging for him to touch you. Before you could speak up again, he spanks you. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp, the action turning you on even more. And then again, a spank lands onto your cheeks. His other hand’s still feeling your wetness, teasing you in an agonizing way. “I wanna hear you beg.”

You shiver a bit as his voice drops even lower than before. You couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you in the first place. Feeling a sense of pride wash over, you were getting a bit fed up and were about to protest until yet another slap landed onto your cheek. This time harder than the previous two. 

“I said– beg,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear. You gulp, feeling trapped beneath him. 

“Hoonie please… need you so bad,” every sense of pride and dignity was thrown out the window as you let those words out of your mouth. “Sorry I can’t hear you. What did you say?” he snickers back, egging you on. With one hand now on your waist and the other rubbing his tip up and down your slick folds, he needed to hear you say it one more time. Too horny to even fight back, you crumbled beneath him, just wanting his cock in you as soon as possible. 

“Sunghoon please fuck me already, I need your cock in me right now!” you loudly said, he leans back down and into your ear he whispers a “good girl.” He pushes his tip into you, already feeling like your pussy was sucking him in. You both let out a moan. He felt so big in you and it was just the tip. 

“S-So… big …,” you muttered. He chuckles. “It’s just the tip baby, can’t handle my cock already?” he presses. You shake your head letting out a tiny squeal and he enters you even more. Fully into you, you felt as if you were being stretched out to the max, no way could you handle this. Yet your pussy was craving more.

Sunghoon couldn't handle it, without giving you any proper time to adjust, he starts stroking into you. Grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands, he fucks you hard on the edge of the bed. Seeing your small frame beneath him and the way your body was just engulfed by his hands, he gets even more turned on.

“So fucking tight Y/n, so fucking wet and all for me– is that right doll?” he grunts out as he slams his cock into you, trying his hardest not to cum. But your cute little moans were making it so hard for him, he felt so lost in the pleasure. 

“Y-Yes all y-yours Hoonie~,” you moan loudly, not a single worry in your body. Just you and Sunghoon. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see your face. In a swift second, Sunghoon flips you over, still standing at the edge of the bed, he puts your legs over his shoulders as he pumps deeper into you. Fucking you into your bed, he leans down, grabbing your face he pulls you into a heated kiss. Your lips mesh together like they’ve been dying for this moment all their lives. He reaches down to your neck, giving it a small squeeze, startled, you open your mouth which gives him access to stick his tongue. Your tongues dance with one other, Sunghoon starting to feel drunk off of you. After what felt like forever, he pulls back, hand on your jaw, holding your mouth open. He spits in it. You let out a loud whiny moan, feeling more aroused than ever before in your life. You instantly swallow, making him lose his mind. 

“You’re such a filthy little slut, swallowing my spit, letting me fuck you like this, is this what you wanted– huh?” He speaks to you, all you could get out were little yelps of “yes.” With your arms snaked around his neck, he pushes your legs off from his shoulders, shocking you he lifts you up off the bed and starts to pound into you harder and harder. You knew Sunghoon was fit but you didn’t know he was that fit. Taking you by surprise with this new angle, he holds you up as he fucks you hard, his pace increasing. You start to feel a knot in your stomach form, getting so close to your climax. Your pussy clenching around him, so tight and pulsating, he knew he was getting close as well. Room filled entirely of moans, skin slapping, and the smell of sex, you needed him to fill you up.

Before you knew it, with one hard pump, you screamed, cumming all over his cock. Overstimulated, he sets you back down onto the bed, helping you ride out your orgasm as he was soon to reach his. The feeling of your wetness and your cum all mixed into one was enough for him to unload right into you. With a few more strokes, he releases, holding onto your body as he rides out his own climax, pumping his seed into you. You felt so full and exhausted. He carefully pulls out, watching as his cum spills out from your pussy. It was a sight he never wanted to forget. He quickly grabs his phone to capture the moment, fingering his load that was spilling out of you back into your hole. You couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sunghoon lays beside you, as he trails kisses along your neck. 

“Fuck– you’re all mine,” he said against your neck. Before any realization could hit the both of you as to what you guys just did with one another, the distinct sound of buzzing came from both of your phones. Your faces went pale.

*Jay added Y/n and Sunghoon to a group.*

Jay: You guys are fucking disgusting.

© enwrites // tumblr

[lyssak09]

Hello :D

I love your writings!!!!

And I love your dbd Yandere Leon x killer reader story :3 can you pls make a part two? I would love to know how it will continues :D

Thank you so much for your amazing work!!!!!!

Also have a good day :D

Of course! Your super sweet I'm so glad you like my writing. So I actually started working on a part 2 after seeing your comment. But your ask just really made me work more on it. So thank you for requesting! Also, I tried to make this as gender friendly as possible. If I messed up anywhere Im so sorry. I hope you guys enjoy it 💙

Yandere Leon with Killer! Reader pt 2

Leon is a clingy needy dude after he's yonked you from the killer's realm. So expect a lot of cuddling, no personal space, and following you everywhere you go in the apartment. 

He isn’t THAT weird, and lets you use the bathroom in peace.

You think anyway.

The best part about him following you like a puppy is the fact that you can basically make him do anything with a simple sentence. 

You could ask for water, and he will zoom over the fridge to get you some water.

Hungry?

Food has been cooked and brought to you.

You are treated like a god dang queen/king/royalty. 

As you should be.

He took you without your permission, and has been keeping you basically hostage. 

This is the least that he could do for you. 

Now, is his cooking very good?

Not really.

He is used to cooking food over a fire and, after joining The Entity’s realm, not eating at all.

If someone came to visit you guys (99.98% not gonna happen but it doesn't hurt to hope) like a friend of his, who didn’t hate him for kidnapping you, he would be giving them a death glare until they leave. Lucky for them that they're friends with Leon or else you'd have a giant mess to clean up and some laundry to do if ya catch my drift.

Btw, Leon 100% wants you to be his house spouse.

You are so missed by your friends. And are enraged and appalled that Leon has done this to you and is able to.

A lot of the killers don’t care tho, since they’ve seen much worse.

But the survivors do, they're also extra pissed he is the one who did kill them for a while as of late.

But hey, not everything was too bad. 

He let you have hobbies, as long as you were still inside of the apartment.

Like sewing.

If you were really interested in it, he would ask you to sew some of his old clothes with big holes.

“Y/N,” he would whisper, before sitting down next to you. You were just sewing up old holes in a pillow case that you found in the back of the closet, hoping to maybe get some use out of it. “Can you sew up this hole for me?"He showed you an old, black shirt with a bullet hole on the chest. “Laurie got me good with a pallet, it put a hole in my shirt, and I haven’t been able to find someone to repair it.”

If you try to stab him with the needle or scissors to skedaddle then your butt is gonna get whooped. 

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?" He yelled at you while you tried to break the front door down. "To get away from you! Duh!" You replied before body slamming the door. Leon let out a string of curses as he quickly wrapped his wound with scraps of fabric from the table. Leon soon grabbed you by your waist and dragged you to the bedroom. "Damn it! Let go of me!!" You screamed and held on to the door frame of the bedroom. Leon covered your mouth and pulled you into the room. "You have no reason to scream yet." He hissed in your ear and shut the door. 

If you like reading, he would ask force ou to read to him.

“But, if the werewolf liked the girl, then why wouldn’t he keep her? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, "because the vampire one already had dibs on her. And healthy relationships don't involve kidnapping!" You told him and continued reading. "They obviously don't love her like I love you" Leon mumbled.

If you like drawing, he would ask to see what you’re drawing and he would try to make sure to get stuff for you to draw more. 

Like pencils and pens.

“What are you drawing?” He would ask, standing above you as you leaned over the table. “Is it a zombie?”

“No.”

“A cat?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a tree.”

"Oh…"

Leon would frame and or put any drawings or doodles on the fridge.

If you have other hobbies, he would try his best to get you stuff to be able to do the things you loved. 

If he couldn’t, he would watch you and learn what you were doing.

If he had to go to a trial while you were at the house by yourself, he would lock the doors and take the key.

That way you wouldn’t be able to get out while he was gone.

While that did stop you from getting out, it did allow you some time alone without him hovering over you.

You could do whatever you pleased for the few hours that he was gone. 

Wanted to catch up on some extra sleep that got taken away from you?

Then nap time it is!

Want to draw something without him looking over your shoulder?

Freedom to draw whatever you want.

Though, you would have to hide them, since he does go through your stuff regularly.

Especially your drawing notebooks.

But remember, he had to find things that were hidden before he was forced into The Entity’s realm. 

So it won’t be easy to try and hide things from him.

Especially if he is suspicious of you hiding something.

“What did you do today?” He asked, walking through the door and plopping on the couch next to you. “Nothing much really, just took a nap and tidied up a bit.”. “Then why are the pencils out of place and why are their smudge marks on the table?” He asked, looking at you. He knew you were lying about what you were doing. “I know you were drawing.” He looked at you with an upset glare, “You don’t have to lie about what you do when I’m gone, you know I love your drawings.” He grabbed both of your hands in one of his, his other hand on your upper arm, “Where is it? I would love to see it.”. “I told you, I didn’t draw today. I tidied up, and that included moving some of the drawings I’ve already made.” You ripped your hands away from his. He started to get angry. "Why are you lying to me?" Leon yanked to towards him. "You didn't draw some boy or girl you think like like right? Because I'm the only one you can see in that way!" He was growling at this point. "Damn it Leon! I didn't draw today, and besides, is it really such a bad thing if I don't want you to see my drawings?" You were sweating now. You may or may not have drawn a hot character you had a crush on. But what's the harm in that? And aren't you allowed to have some privacy? "DON'T FUCKIN LIE TO ME!" he screamed and pinned you to the wall. You got the wind knocked outta you. "You know I don't like secrets." You stayed silent.  “I’m going to find it, even if I have to turn this whole place upside down!"

Yeah…he doesn't like secrets

Especially from you. Couples share everything right?

But if you dont draw and play games instead then maybe you get a game system or a game boy.

Or whatever you need/want for your hobbies

Anywaaays when he is forced to chill in the Killer camp he likes to ease drop on the killers and survivors who were you friends before you got yonked. (Yes you were friends with most of the survivors. You were a pretty friendly and chill killer) 

Leon started to hear rumors of him making a deal with the entity. Which wasn't wrong. But he still didn't you two to be discussed about with these asshats

He also started to hear your friends talk about plans to take you back and beat the utter crap outta our RPD boi.

But sadly for you, that's not happening. The Entity has gotten so much rage from Leon taking his anger out on his once friends. (He gets angry because someone isn't reciprocating his feelings fast enough. 

And Entity is also getting rage and despair from the survivors

To be perfectly honest, I don't think you're ever getting out. Leon's kills is more than making up for you no longer being able to do trials. So the entity is probably gonna leave you in Leon's hands. Forever

"You're mine you got that?" He hissed at you as you kicked and screamed at him to let you go. You had just tried to escape again and Leon caught you. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Leon screamed and dug his nails into your jaw, breaking the skin and causing blood to trail down your neck. You mumbled out a yes. "Good, because you're never leaving me."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------- little fun bonus if wanted —-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe one day the Entity decided to let you guys out into the real world for a while since Leon has been so so useful as of late 

That also meant everyone could join.

Leon was pissed about this idea. He only wanted you and nobody else.

Besides, his ex-teammates aren’t probably the happiest with him

You know, killing them and all that.

Killers also didn’t really like him either.

They missed you being around the campfire with them.

But he made a deal, and The Entity was one to never let their side of the deal fail. 

Neither was Leon though.

He always kept his side of the deal.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone else come near you.

You already knew that though, and it wasn’t like you haven’t tried to bargain with The Entity either. 

But at least you could enjoy a day in the real world near your friends. 

So, yay

[ma1dita]

okok catching up on troubleverse WHEWW and i have the perffff song for them, paired with the lyrics verse-for-verse and me screaming shrilly LMAOOO.

but this song is sosososo perf, like everything abt it from the lyrics to the singer's erratically paced singing to the general unhinged vibes and. IT SHARES A NAME WITH THE ENTIRE SERIES TOO OMG-- 'partner in crime' by madilyn mei!! i haven't listened to my folk indie queen for a hot minute but i had to pull it out from the dusty archive of my skull for u 😗😗

When you're gone I feel alone again / The voices cannot hold my hand / They keep me company at very best / Distract me from my loneliness

insanity mention?? dionysus the god of mania?? HELLOOOO CAN THOU HEAR ME [rattling at the bars of containment]

Maybe I'm just an anomaly / Even my demons have their families / Truly something must be wrong with me / To need you as much as I do

smth must be wrong with trouble to need luke as much as she does and vice versa smth smth okay like. i think the whole thing abt him being trouble's ESA from buddy system is saying enough 😭😭

I was never meant to win / [... maniacal laughing] SHUT UP!

THE LAUGHING AND THE MUTED SHUT UP HERE JUST GETS ME. straight chills, ik it didnt happen but during love like a blister if trouble screamed at the other counselors out of rage and the campers heard it the way it sounded in the song UGH. I WAS NEVER MEANT TO WIN. THEY DON'T EVER WIN BC LUKE HAS BEEN DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE OMFG.

Here's the reigns / Take ahold of me / Please don't let me go / You do the talking / Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

BUDDY SYSTEM CODED when they're on the road trip bc the image just comes to mind instantly, like if they see questioning adults luke has to do the sweet talking bc trouble is lowkey a pro yapper and can't keep her mouth shut at all. AND 'here's the reigns take ahold of me' NO WORDS no words at all just vibes bc wdym. i just think that luke being vulnerable to trouble and talking abt his mom as if he were giving her the reigns to his personal life ermm.

Run for it / I'll keep em occupied for you / Cause I love you, I love you so

SOMEBODYS ANGEL SAVE ME SOMEBODYS ANGEL SAVE ME. trouble stepping into the battle with ladon to save luke, 'run for it i'll keep [LADON] occupied cause i love you i love so' I AM SICK. SOMEONE MAKE ME SOME CONGEE UGHHH.

I'm 'bout to die / Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you / Something tells me you aren't coming / Guess that I'm truly doomed

i saw ur synopsis of asking for trouble like. he's dying and the only thing he can think abt. is trouble??? r u kidding me? and then trouble supposedly pleading his case with the olympians in the as above so below synopsis DONT TELL ME that trouble is gonna be too late for luke and so he dies thinking that she still hates him (based off what im assuming from the when the curtains close synopsis, 'all strings r cut' WDYM??)

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine / Oh, I know that we're not the same / My heart's on the line / I'm just a pawn in your game / Not your partner in crime

JO THEY R SUPPOSED TO BE PARTNERS IN CRIME HELLO. solipsism c'mere i just wanna talk bc drunk!trouble seeing luke from a different timeline and KNOWING HE'S REALLY THERE BUT IT ISNT HIM = 'i overhear your brain when it's close to mine / oh, i know that we're not the same' THEY ARE ON DIFFERENT WAVELENGTHS IN THE MOST LITERAL SENSE POSSIBLE WITH TIME in this essay i will--

You're slowly killing me / Taking your- (I was never meant to win)

luke to kronos, the titan is slowing killing him from the inside out the longer he's possessing luke. HE WAS NEVER MEANT TO WIN UGH. i need to put maddie and u in affectionate jail bc ASDFGHJKL goodbye i am finished. troubleverse is sososoo evil, like this is srsly what everyone else feels when they read jubi bc if it is i am so sorry for everything.

to conclude jo, ily but i also am gobsmacked with my mouth hanging wide open and catching flies bc this whole thing is unbe-fucking-lieveable. the way u built their whole ass relationship from the ground up and swung a baseball bat into it like ok i need to take a business month to process this for reasons known and unknown, my bags r packed up at the airport, who cares abt my chem grade, it is sabbatical time WHEWW

THEOOOOO IM SCREAMING UNTIL MY HEAD EXPLODES THE SONG REC IS SO GOOD??? how tf did i miss that

i am so happy that you made the troubleverse part of your day it is an honor to have you connect the dots from your perspective and see how everything is playing out!! you in my brain ill make you congee BAHAH you've been the only one to put some of the dots together for the final arc (or at least voice it, thank you for being brave) and i will neither confirm nor deny but your analysis is pretty spot on for someone who binge read it today thank you so much!!

study for chem no rest for the weak >:( love youu

[sejmisland]

this is kind of unpolished since i wrote this weeks ago before i started this blog. any thoughts are well appreciated. im sorry this seems rigid and not so fluent. but thank you for taking the time to read :)!! it means the most

dear albert, i apologize for this lately worded piece of nonsense. the old man's nonsense has prevailed through the feeble, thin layer of security he calls "confidence". despite my attempts to work with my own team he insists i work with the ones he has suggested. oh the fruits of labor, no? i know how i sound; i’m hopeful, i promise you. there is no stress here, at least with the scientific parts. the stress comes more with my identity and the thought of who i will be to the world. so, i had to do something. i pass by the mirror frequently and see a new woman every time, and so a great change has been made within the past few days so that today i finally feel like… me again. perhaps you know what i speak of. i will show you in the next week because i will have some more time to myself and i am still very unsure of this change. i want to make sure i am who i say i am before i draw back the curtain. you understand, albert, you always have with that beautiful mind of your's, but i wonder if that fool who calls himself a god does. i wonder if he knows what i will do to this world. i wonder, if then, he will consider me a success, or cast me to the underworld of shadow and take my success as his own. i can't let that happen. i won't let it. sometimes, my mind wanders so far that i think that somehow, just maybe, they're sitting at the control panel and slowly pushing the accelerator down with every passing year to make me deteriorate. the closer i am to success, the closer my death will be. is that nonsense? maybe it is. i will leave the thought alone or at least attempt to. i’m sorry i have no snippet of poetry this time. i will try and include some the next letter or at least two snippets to make up for lost and wasted time. the old man isn’t quite kind when it comes to art. it all comes down to science and exhaustive work. it’s hard to get a break considering his condition gets worse and he pushes me to the brink for something that seems… impossible. why make an impossible goal only to push my health to the limits? does it make sense? no, but who said i would quit? my focus is not me. it is you, albert. i will be okay. don’t worry about me. how is your time in s.t.a.r.s? any more enjoyable than being cooped up in a lab? you can imagine the suffering i have to endure with birkin. the man never knows how to shut his mouth. the temptation to sew the man’s lips together so he shuts up for eternity… how grand. i worry that’s too violent and i’d be a fool to lay a hand on him. as much as that man drains me and gets on my burnt nerves, he does have some well thought out ideas. i see the reason for association. i apologize for the lack of words. my mind is scattered. i cannot quite focus anymore with the fever and cough my body constantly endures. i miss you dearly. this isn’t quite the way i imagined things to play out, but who am i to tempt fate? so, would it be easier for me to stop by the s.t.a.r.s office? please give me a time so i can avoid your colleagues... the existence of another can be quite trifling and troubling. with love from your dear sister, alex.

(some small sentence is written in blue ink, just near the margin.)

(”thank you for the kafka collection. expect my thoughts within the next meeting.”)

[pesterloglog]

Meenah Peixes, Meulin Leijon

Act 6, page 5308

MEENAH: what

MEULIN: (=^･ω･^) < OH!!!!!!!!! I MEANT TO ASK...

MEULIN: ヽ(=^･ω･^=)丿 < HAVE YOU MET THE HUMANS YET?

MEENAH: yeah

MEULIN: (=^-ω-^=) < OMG AREN'T THE JUST SO PERF???

MEENAH: nah

MEENAH: dont see what the big deal with em is

MEULIN: (^・x・^) < M33NAH, NO.

MEULIN: (^-人-^) < THEY ARE ALL SO PERFECTLY ADORABLE.

MEULIN: (^・ω・^ ) < EACH IS LITTERALLY MORE PRECIOUS AND PURRFECT THAN THE LAST.

MEENAH: if only you could hear how bonkers you sound

MEULIN: ~(=^‥^)/ < M33NAH. M33NAH. NO.

#M33NAH.

MEULIN: (^._.^)ﾉ < YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND.

MEULIN: ヾ(=ﾟ･ﾟ=)ﾉ < THEY ARE MY BABIES.

MEENAH: wtfs a babie

MEULIN: (=^･^=) < THEY ARE MY PERFECT PRECIOUS GAY LITTLE BABIES!!!!!!!!!

MEENAH: uh

MEENAH: whats gay

MEULIN: (=^ω^=) < IT'S A THING THAT HUMAN BABIES ARE SOMETIMES I THINK!

MEENAH: cant even deal w this meu

#failing to can #when it comes to dealin w it

MEULIN: (^･o･^) < OH AND DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE SLIGHTEST IDEA WHAT THE SHIPPING IMPLICATPUNS ARE???

MEULIN: ヽ(=^･ω･^=)丿 < BY ADDING THE HUMANS INTO THE PICTURE, BOTH PRE-SCRATCH AND SCRATCH-POST, IT HAS INCREASED THE PAIRING PAWSIBILITIES EXPOUNCENENTIALLY!

MEULIN: (^-人-^) < IT'S REALLY B33N OVERWHELMING, I CAN'T EVEN...

MEULIN: (^・x・^) < I JUST

#NO

MEULIN: (=ﾟ���ﾟ=) < THAT'S IT.

#I CAN'T

MEULIN: (=ＴェＴ=) < I'M SO DONE.

MEULIN:

MEULIN:

MEULIN:

MEENAH: hate to change the subject

#not really

MEENAH: but i kinda side stepped past kurloz back there whilst granting him a wide berth

#didnt wanna get tangled up in his hair

MEENAH: he obviously wont say a thing to me which is probs for tha best

MEENAH: but since he actually talks to you maybe you can answer stuff

MEULIN: (=^ω^=) < LIKE WHAT!

#HAIR POOFING TIPS?

MEENAH: like do you know if hes god tier

MEENAH: im building this army and its going horribubbly so far and im sure it would be unimaginably horrendous havin him along but i needs all the muscle i can get know what im sayin

MEULIN: (=^‥^) < I ACTUALLY DON'T KNOW!

MEULIN: (=^･ω･^=) < YES WE ARE PRETTY CLOSE, BUT YOU KNOW HOW HE IS. HE'S STILL VERY SNEAKRETIVE AND STILL LOVES MAKING RIDDLES OUT OF EVERYTHING.

MEULIN: (=^･ω･^=) < HE'S B33N VERY EXCITED LATELY. HE F33LS THAT SO MANY OF HIS SPOOKY RELIGION'S PROPHECIES ARE ON THE VERGE OF COMING TRUE, AND THE STARS ARE COMING INTO FELINEMENT.

MEULIN: (=^･ω･^=) < REMEMBER HOW HE USED TO GO ON AND ON ABOUT THE MESSIAHS, ANGELS OF DOUBLE DEATH, AND ALL THAT WACKY STUFF?

MEENAH: yeah we always had way waaay too many religious nutjobs in our party

MEENAH: so i always tuna'd him trout

#moar slammin puns #or should i say... #salmon

MEENAH: back when he could talk at least

MEENAH: then he did us all the psycho favor of sewing his mouth shut so it was win win

#angels of double win more like

MEULIN: (^‥^) < HEH. I SUPPOSE.

MEENAH: please dont take this for interest in shippin talk

MEENAH: but you and he arent a red item anymore right

MEULIN: (=^ω^=) < OH NO NO NO THAT WAS A LONG TIME AGO.

MEULIN: (=^ω^=) < WE'RE JUST REALLY GOOD FRIENDS NOW. WE HANG OUT AND JOKE AROUND ALL THE TIME. HE EVEN HELPS ME WITH MY GRIDS!

MEULIN: ~(=^‥^)ノ < GENERALLY I STICK TO THE RED MATCHUPS WHILE HE ADVISES ON BLACK. HE'S 33RILY TALENTED AT PICKING BLACKROM PAIRS! PROBABLY EVEN BETTER THAN ME...

MEENAH: dag what a boring fact

MEENAH: but its cool youre good fronds still

MEENAH: i thought i picked up heavy planktonic vibes from you

MEENAH: now why dontcha run along and talk to him

MEENAH: make use a your mutually compatible disabilities for communicatin and whatnot

#unabilitied mofos errywhere

MEENAH:

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Juvia’s unfortunate discovery

Chapter 2: Descent into Madness

Rated M (Implied Intercourse but not descript)

To prevent any possible confusion; I don’t think I ever mentioned that in a lot of my stories Gray has a hard time saying “I love you”. This is because he believes that everyone he tells it to will inevitably end up dead. For good reason, since all of the people he has lost throughout his life are those he’s expressed his love to or for at some point. So that is what “his curse” is referring to.

So sorry for the delay!

I love you

I never want anyone other than you

I will never let you go

He said it! He’d finally put his fears behind him and told her how he felt. Gray looks down at the women in his arms as she stares up at him. The disbelief evident on her face as she thinks; Surely I misheard him. “What was that first thing you’d said babe?” Think I may have misheard you” she has to ask just to make sure.

Taking her face in his hands, he moves in so close their noses are touching before repeating himself. “I.LOVE.you __________, I LOVE YOU! Only you” the pride in his accomplishment is evident in his voice. Her eyes filled with tears as she tries to get over the initial shock of his statement. “C’mon let’s do this in a more appropriate place” he stands up carrying her into his bedroom. Dropping her onto the bed before climbing over her. “Now where were we?” he asks with his signature smirk in place.

“I love you Gray”

The words don’t have him reeling with anxiety, her eyes arent wide with fright, and she isn’t covering her mouth in horror. This time around is completely different than the first time it had accidentally been said. “say it again” he whispers against her lips. “I love you GRAAAY” she exclaims with emphasis put on his name as he slides into her without warning.

“Now that’s what I like to hear”

Waking up that next morning; A mutual decision is made that today is just for them, so they shut the world out. Neither one of them aware of the storm that was brewing behind the tightly drawn curtains.

I love you _________

She can’t stop hearing it.

I never want anyone other than you

Please no....

I’ll never leave you

Make it stop!

Juvia’s hands fist her hair, yanking on the blue strands. “Gray-Sama, you didn’t mean it...I know you didn’t...you just told her what she wanted to hear that’s all! Juvia forgives you” she whispers holding the doll close, caressing it softly. “Juvia knows that your just sewing your wild oats like old people say...you’ll throw her away, just like you did with all the other nameless sluts you took home throughout the years”.

So many females she’d seen leaving his house at ungodly hours of the night or early morning. Not one over the last year though...Juvia Was excited she thought he was finally ready to settle down.

“He is, just not with you” the voice is audible it’s not just in her head, it can’t be!

“SHUT UPPP! Gray -Sama belongs to Juvia!” the manic woman let’s out a miserable wail. The images she sees in her mind have also been infected by that bitch now! Plagued by images of; Gray & ___________

Laying in bed together

Fighting together

Laughing together

Getting married

Preparing to have a child

Bile rises in the back of her throat “God please no...anything but that....Even when he does return to me what if.....” she shudders, rapidly beginning to play out the nightmareish scenario in her minds eye.

~Dreamscape Begins~

Envisioning a happy home with her beloved.

The two of them; Snuggled up, together on the couch, chatting happily. Suddenly a knock on the door interrupts their conversation. “I’ll get it droplet, be right back” Gray says, kissing her forehead before leaving the room.

5 minutes pass... 10 minutes pass...and he still hasn’t returned to the couch. What could possibly be taking him so long?

Peering out of a peep hole on the front door she strained her ears to listen.

“-it’s yours”

“Look, Im with Juvia now; we’re happy just leave me alone”

“I just thought you should know, at least to give you the option of being with us…as a family”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget I even came down here, bye”

“Wait! That’s my kid too, you can’t do this-“

A child....a permanent reminder of…

“I love you _______”

“Juvia won’t let that happen” the expression on her face displays all the lunacy she hid within.

“I’ll make it stop and then everything will go back to how it was, just us two”.

~Across Town~

“Mmmm baby, I love it when you wake me up like this” Gray groans out, voice still laden with sleep. You can see that she moving as she continues sucking him for all he’s worth. “Want to see you though” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while lifting the sheet up. The twisted smile he sees causes him to yelp and immediately jump backwards, “JUVIA?! WHAT THE-!”

She giggles, “Juvia loves the way you taste Gray-Sama”.

“How’d you get in here?! Where is ________?” He begins to panic upon seeing the empty space beside him. “Don’t worry about that now let Juvia finish pleasuring her beloved”.

“NO!” Gray shouts, anxiety reaching a breaking point as he hops out of bed. “Get out Juvia! Get the F-“ he stops short at the feel of something wet and warm beneath his feet. Looking down he can’t help but scream, “BABE?!”.

Her eyes stare back; Blank, unseeing, her skin is cold to the touch. “No...no..not again! I shouldn’t have said it! I knew better goddamnit!”. The curse, his curse, it’s taken yet another person he said those words to. His parents, Ur, now __________ too. Something snapped inside of his head as he cried out in agony.

~Dreamscape end~

Sitting up drenched in sweat the raven haired man looked wildly around the room. His hand began groping the mattress beside him, she wasn’t there. “__________? BABE WHERE ARE YOU?!” he called out, voice loud and terrified. Frantic footsteps came rushing down the hall immediately, she runs into the room hurrying to his side. “What is it?? what’s wrong?!” she touches his face worriedly “Gray?”.

He yanks her onto the bed squeezing her tightly “Thank God” he whispers. “I thought, oh God baby I-“ his body begins to tremble and she hugs him. “I’m here, I’m OK, it wasn’t real” she repeated this like a mantra until he relaxed against the pillows, pulling her with him. “Please say it” he asks. “I love you Gray, I’m never going to leave you” her voice is soft but the conviction is firm. “This is real, that wasn’t” he repeats while caressing every inch of her body, gently kissing her lips. “Make love to me Gray” her voice startles him.

“W-What?”

“Make love to me, focus on me and nothing else, then you’ll know it’s real”.

It was easy for them to get lost in each other and shut the world out once more. They’d had no idea what an ugly day it’d been, how a slight drizzle became a deluge, a down pour. Pleasured cries and whispers of sweet nothings, drowned out by the howling wind. The lovers lay together; Stated and spent staring into each others eyes as they hold one another close.

“I love you, I never want to be with anyone but you, forever”

Juvia won’t let that happen.

Juvia will make her pay.

[ourwrittenstories-arch]

○○Blog info~~

Info on my rules and muses for mobile under the read more

Side blog to @somexofusxarexhuman < Canon Stiles RP

Please remember this is an RP blog and not an Art blog, to see my art follow me here on twitter >>> ***CLICK***

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Anyone can reply, please don't let reblog amount scare you!

Rules::

Rule one

Please be patient with me. I’m either stupid fast at replying or I take a few days. If it seems I’ve forgotten you, though, send me an IM

Rule Two

That being said I will reply when I feel like. I will always tell you if I need to drop a thread, if I take long it doesn’t mean I’ve dropped it. If you need to drop it because I’m taking too long, let me know. I promise not to be mad.

Rule Three

I will not RP with anyone under the age of 18, even if the thread has no smut. I’m sorry, but no. This is an adult oriented blog. Heavy themes, along with smut, will be regularly posted in rp formal and/or in images.

Rule Four

I will not RP with anime/cartoon/game FC’s (There are exceptions like RE8 chars). I will also not RP with any deceased FC’s

Rule Five

As awesome as it would be to be bilingual, I only speak and know English.  Anything you see me post that is not English was brought to you by Google Translate.

Rule Six

I do not have a verse page, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to AU’s. I LOVE AU’s. I’m a multi-ship multi-post blog and am trash for any and all AU’s. Just ask!

Rule Seven

I can write a lot in my replies (And a lot of it can be unnecessary detail) but don't feel pressured to match my length! Just, please, try to give me something more than two sentences to work with. I don't typically enjoy writing short replies, but I understand muses can be fickle things.

Rule Eight

I don't enjoy pregnancy threads or writing children so I, typically, will steer clear of those types of threads. If our muses have been in a long relationship (and we have been writing partners for a while as well) I may make an exception, but don't come in expecting babies. My girls all have IUD's unless stated otherwise. That being said I am 100% down with the breeding kink.

Rule Nine

If a muse has (unknown) somewhere in their age it means they are old old. Like 100+, so age can be changed if you are uncomfortable with age gap.

Rule Ten

I have a handful of chronic issues that effect my sleep and my mood so I'm up all hours of the day. I live in EST time zone, but I'm often up at 4AM so.....it's a gamble lol!

Rule Eleven

I have SEVERE ANXIETY and struggle messaging new people. IF I FOLLOWED YOU I WANT TO RP WITH YOU! I'm probably just figuring out how to message you without puking lol. I would appreciate the help, if you want, or you can wait until I gather the enrve.

Rule Twelve

My grammar isn't the best in the galaxy, ok? I over use comma's and never really figured out the semi-colon. If something is horribly wrong or you can't understand what I've written, just ask please.

Rule Thirteen

I will tag major triggers (ie; Snakes, Spiders etc) but I won't tag smut or NSFW unless it really needs it.

Rule Fourteen

If I have ever posted a meme please feel free to send one in even if it was a year ago! With that in mind, I do prefer introduction threads with new muns/characters if I am not familiar with them.

Rule Fifteen

Don't like my starters

Rule Sixteen

Don't God-Mod blah blah and Follow TOS k I love you <3 <3

Muses:

Girls:

Inessa Morea

Nicknames: Nessy, Nessa, Ness Age: Unknwon (25) DoB: May 11th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Forest) Sexual Orientation: Bi-Curious Position: Sub (Potentially verse) Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Flourist Personality: Sweet, Curious, Oblivious, Playful, Innocent, Devious Face Claim: Candice King ○

Cassia Poole-

Nicknames: Cass, Cassy Age: Unknown (19-24) DoB: November 3rd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Water(mermaid)) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Student (Robotics and Marine bio-tech)/ Swim coach Personality:Innocent, Nerdy, Hyperactive, Bratty, Playful, Lame Face Claim: Jane Levy ○

 Amara Nyx

Nicknames: Marr Age: Unknown (32) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Underworld) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: None/ Sugar baby Personality: Smart ass, Rude, Bitchy, Judgmental, Hateful, Possessive, Affectionate Face Claim: Elizabeth Gillies ○

Laleh Narvaez

Nicknames: Lala Age: 25(600) DoB: Sept 4th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Lamia/Naga Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Argentina Occupation: Dancer/Jack of all Trades for Freak Show/Snake Charmer(Circus) Personality:Sharp, Sultry, Flirtatious, Seductive, Venomous Face Claim: Eiza Gonzalez ○

Samira Eve

Nickname: Sam, Sammy, Mira Age: (Unknown) 20-23 DoB: June 2nd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Air Nymph Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Verse Romantic Orientation: Panromantic Hometown: Boston Occupation: Thief/Courier Personality: Sarcastic, Smooth, Sassy, Flighty, Unreliable, Persuasive, troublemaker FC: Elisha Applebaum

○

Maybelline New-York

Nicknames: May Age: 28 DoB:Sep 17 Pronouns: She/Her Species: Zombie Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New Orleans Occupation: None Personality: Shy, Angry, Mute, Hungry, Sassy" Bio: Maybelline has no memory of her life before she had been murdered at the age of 23. Hell, she's not even certain that's her age. Her name came from reading a magazine ad when asked who she was after walking into morgue. Zombies had been a small pest problem for a while now, usually obvious in their appearance and traits, but something inside of May kept her from fully succumbing to the sickness. All she felt was hunger and, after begging the mortician to, promptly sewed her mouth shut and clipped her nails. Now she speaks in sign or with a chalkboard she carries around to communicate. After weeks of study, it was discovered that Maybelline had a tumor that had taken over the majority of her brain, blocking the strain from traveling and taking her over. Face Claim: Camila Mendes ○

Juniper Lee

Nicknames: June, Junie Age:29 DoB: Feb 16th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Witch Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Submissive Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Seoul until 5 then Massachusetts Occupation:Herbalist/Illusionist Personality:Soft spoken, Kind, Intelligent, Playful, Self Concious, Delicate, unsure Face Claim: Jamie Chung ○

 Barabelle Gunn

Nicknames: Belle, Belly, Bara Age:27 DoB: May 28th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Killin Scottland Occupation: Hunter (supernatural) / Mercenary Personality: Brash, Rude, Sarcastic, Bull Headed, Loyal, Protective Face Claim: Karen Gillan AU Verses-  Resident Evil 8 Verse ○ Leora Brandr Nicknames: Leo Age: Unknown (26) DoB: Dec 21st Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Fire) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Queens Occupation: Pilot/ Glass Blower Personality: Gentle, Kind, Shy, Short-Fused, Fiery, Passionate Face Claim: Daisy Ridley

Boys:

Carlyle Abrams

Nicknames: Lyle Age:32 DoB: April 16th Pronouns: He/Him Species:Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: London Occupation: Private Investigator Personality: Charming,Calm, Kind, Playful, Posessive, Warm Face Claim: Adam Driver ○

Maxwell Ardeleane Nicknames: Max Age: Unknown (31) DoB: January 8th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Elder Vampire Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Bucharest Romania Occupation: Mob Boss Personality: Charming, Polite, Sarcastic,Dark, Cruel, Posessive." Face Claim: Tyler Hoechlin ○ Syrian Nyx

Nicknames: Syrian Age: Unknown(34) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Nymph (Underworld) (Alpha) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Bank CEO Personality:Charming, Egotistical, Posessive, Rude, Dark Humor Face Claim: Oliver Jackson-Cohen ○ Esben Hvit

Nicknames: Esben, Ben, Es Age: 27 DoB: Oct 20 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Were-Raven (Albino) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown:Seattle Occupation: Famous Writer(Penned under Raven White) Personality:Cocky, Quiet, Shy, Rude, Snarky, Intelligent Face Claim: Lucky Blue Smith ○

Carter Higgins

Nicknames: Carter, Car Age: 24 DoB: June 12 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown: Nashville Tenn Occupation: Street/Bar Musician Personality:Sweet, Friendly, Romantic, Goofy, Playful Face Claim: Cody Christian

----

Canon characters:

Peter Hale: Teen Wolf

Chris Argent: Teen Wolf

Tags:

#selfie;(name) - Photo’s of characters

(name)Starter- Starter for specific character

#wanted opposite - Wanted partner or character to rp with

more TBA

[wienerbarnes]

Injury

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 3,127

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, self-deprecation, Bucky cooking

A/N: yall wanted some extended stories of cheek to cheek so i will deliver as long as the ideas come :) also the gif has absolutely no correlation to the oneshot im just obsessed with the new content we got today LOL anywayyyy if yall have any requests for this pair lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

Bubbles and foam stick to the curves of his palms, both flesh and metal, as Bucky finishes washing his dishes from dinner. He’s gotten closer and closer to perfecting his bao buns; he only tore open one dumpling when twisting them closed and he remembered to oil the parchment paper that lined the bamboo steamer Sharon got him for his birthday.

He shuts the water off and moves to the left side of his sink to begin drying his now clean china. It’s been a peaceful night in his apartment. Alpine shared the seat with him on the couch while Bucky ate his dinner, hoping some pork would slip out of Bucky’s mouth so he could catch the treat. He started watching some cheesy rom-com before getting bored and just shutting off the television altogether, opting to play some music while he completed his chores instead.

Ella Fitzgerald’s voice fades out and Bucky waits for the small silence in between songs to end. The towel pauses on the plate for a moment as the beginning tunes of Cheek to Cheek echo in his apartment. 

“Heaven, I’m in heaven…”

Bucky continues drying off his glass and remaining silverware as you flash in his mind. He hasn’t seen anything about you nor have you left him any other notes or clues since that day he saw you at the fresh market. He hopes you’re okay. Truly. You were thrown into a life you surely weren’t meant to live at such a young age, barely an adult, and then almost put to death for acting out due to trauma that was out of your control.

Almost immediately after Bucky puts the final dry glass in the cupboard, his ears perk up. He’s not entirely sure what the sound was; he pokes head out from the doorway of his kitchen to see a ball of white fluff still unmoving on his couch, the same position as he was ten minutes ago except tiny ears are standing tall and proud now.

Bucky glances at the windows that are visible and they all still have the lock in tact, the door is still locked as well. Bucky quickly examines the mental map in his head and realizes the only other spot having access to the alleyway next to the apartment building besides his living room windows is the large window in his bedroom. He steps back to the kitchen to grab ahold of one of the knives in the drawer.

As he slowly and silently creeps towards his slightly ajar bedroom door, his ears pick up another heartbeat. Quick, stressed beats hit his ears as he draws closer and closer to the door. He pushes the door open quickly to see his window still half open, lock broken and hanging on the sill, and his eyes meet your heaving frame on his carpeted bedroom floor.

Bucky lets out a sigh and tosses the knife onto his bed before crouching down to help you up.

“Geez, you couldn’t have left some sort of ominous note or another friendship bracelet before breaking into my place?” Bucky scolds as he rests his hands on the tops of your shoulders.

You flinch roughly and cough out a “Help,” that quickly catches Bucky’s attention. He’s able to twist your body slightly so your weight is on your bottom instead of your legs and his eyes immediately catch onto the deep gash along your ribs and the blood pouring around your hands. The blood is coming out of the cut so fast, Bucky can almost hear the gushes. Squirts of blood make there way out from in between your fingers and Bucky notices then just how pale you are. 

He stands and runs to his bathroom to grab his spare bath towels along with a first aid kit. You blood ruins his fluffy white towels and soaks them almost instantly as he pops open the first aid kid and grabs the bottle to sterilize your wound along with a needle and surgical thread to stitch you up. It won’t be the best, but it’ll be enough until he can get you to a hospital.

“N-no hospital.” You whimper. Did I say that out loud?

“Stop talking. Ignore me, just-just stop talking and don’t move.” Bucky stutters and soaks the other towel in alcohol to replace the now blood soaked one. 

This back and forth continues until the blood slows down enough for Bucky to get in there and cut away at your shirt to expose your rib area. 

“Christ, were you mauled by a fucking bear?” Bucky mumbles. The cut is bad. Really bad. He’s sorry for the nasty scar that the combination of this cut and his horrible stitching skills are about to leave on your smooth skin.

“I-I saw it coming, too. I saw it, and I-I still c-came over here…” You trail off, voice ragged and wet. He spares a glance at your face; your skin is wet with a mixture of sweat and tears and your brows are turned upwards in both exhaustion and defeat.

“And-and then I noticed this was your building,” A deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t go to a, to a hospital, I’m sorry,” You voice gets more and more panicked with what little energy you have left.

“Hey, relax, alright? I’m gonna fix it, I just need you to relax, okay? Just relax for me, doll.” Bucky reassures you as he threads the needle. This is gonna fucking suck, I’m so sorry.

Bucky plunges the needle through your skin at one end of the cut and you merely tense; he can tell you’re using everything within you to stay as still as possible. 

The torture continues as Bucky tries to sew you up as quickly and delicately as possible. He finally finishes and goes to grab another towel to clean up any leftover blood that’s glued itself dry to your soft skin.

Bucky dabs gently at your skin and the color slowly comes back to your face. You’re staring straight at his ceiling, face seemingly emotionless, but he can sense the anger radiating off your body.  

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Stupid Hydra cunts; what the fuck do you think happened?” You snap. The emotion finally comes out in your voice and he glances at you once more. Your eyes are more wet than usual and his heart breaks for you. God, let this fucking girl rest.

“They get away?” 

“Fucking assholes.” You mumble to yourself, as though you didn’t hear him. Bucky watches a small tear exit through the corner of your eyes and he doesn’t need to ask you again to know that they did.

Bucky grabs your hands and pulls you up slowly as to not let you get lightheaded and his metal hand rises to push stray hairs out of your face. You flinch a little bit, but he continues anyway. Now that you’re sitting up on your own, he reaches his arms behind your head and pulls your hair into a loose ponytail with the hair-tie that’s stayed on his wrist even after his haircut.

He can feel you watching him with wide eyes, probably confused as to why he’s treating you with such caution and care when you’re a serial murderer and kidnapper wanted by the entire planet and you’ve just ruined his window and his carpet.

“I’ll give you some clothes to change into. When was the last time you ate?” Bucky whispers to you, voice remaining sweet and so, so, so gentle.

“What?” You ask, mouth twisting into a small, confused frown. Bucky scoffs and pulls you up by the tops of your arms and helps walk with you towards his bathroom. You lean against the wall and he disappears back into his bedroom and returns with a giant long sleeve shirt and soft pajama pants, a pair of socks rolled into a tight ball resting atop the stack of clothes. He rests the stack on the counter and says, “Holler if you need anything.” before closing the door behind him as he exits. 

Bucky likes the modern look, that’s for sure. Simple, grey and white tones with pops of gold to highlight different spots of the bathroom.You don’t even know when it was the last time you were in a bathroom this nice looking.  Definitely before Hydra, but everything good in your life was before Hydra. 

You take a deep breath and remove your clothes before staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair, that you’ve dyed a muted purple since the last time you saw Bucky, is faded towards the tips and your dark brown roots have grown out to your ears. You observe the scars and dark freckles that decorate your skin, spending a few extra seconds the new one you’ve collected tonight.

You did this on purpose. You didn’t see you getting stabbed, but you saw Bucky getting stabbed tonight in his apartment. You don’t know why you traveled two hours into this part of New York to rescue him, or whatever it is you think you did tonight. 

That was fucking stupid. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, or worse, caught. All for what, some fucking Avenger who showed you a little kindness while you were on death row? You’re so fucking dumb, you know that? You think you’re some big hero now or something? That this makes up for everything you’ve done? You’re no hero, you’re the farthest thing away from a hero. Who would even-

“Hey, you alright in there? You didn’t pass out on me did you?” Your self-deprecation is interrupted by a certain soldier’s deep voice coming through the door.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You reassure as you grab the clothes and begin pulling them on one by one.

When you exit the bathroom, you come face to face with the soldier himself. Noses are almost touching and you can smell the sweet and tangy scent of whatever he was cooking on his body. You can’t help but lick your lips at the delicious thought of something to eat and you notice his eyes flicker down to see your tongue poke out between your lips. His eyes meet yours again and he clears his throat before turning and returning back to the kitchen. You don’t waste time in following quickly behind.

… 

Bucky slowly stirs the sweet and spicy sauce with the leftover pork from his bao. He didn’t have the patience to sit for an hour twist small dumpling balls, but the least he could do was warm up what remains of the meat. He also threw in a small bag of frozen vegetables in the microwave, which have about three more minutes to them. Sure, definitely not as good as fresh vegetables, but he doubts you’ll care, or even notice for that matter.

It’s when the microwave beeps that he realizes you’ve been in his bathroom for too long. Maybe your stitches popped. Maybe you passed out from what a shitty job he did on your cut. Maybe you’ve been bleeding out on his bathroom floor this entire time and he’s been too busy stirring pork to notice. Maybe you snuck back out the window. Maybe you snuck back out the window but didn’t jump right and now you’re more hurt on the ground of a dirty alleyway.

Bucky switches the heat off and goes to the bathroom to check on you. 

As he nears the door he softly presses his ear against the wood and he relaxes when he can hear the rapid thump of your heart on the other side. He lifts his right middle finger knuckle to tap on the door, “Hey, you alright in there? You didn’t pass out on me did you?” Bucky teases, hoping to God that you didn’t. 

“Yea, I’m fine.” Comes your voice through the door and Bucky lets out a breath of relief.

The door opens and he feels a bit of heat on the back of his neck at the sight of his oversized clothes on you. He sees the stretch of your collarbones above the large head hole of the shirt he gave you and he sees the tips of your now bright yellow painted toes poking out from the sweatpants you’re wearing, which can confidently assume have the waistband string tied incredibly tight to keep from slipping down. His eyes catch your tongue slip out to wet your lips and his throat is suddenly very dry. He clears it and looks back up at your eyes. Jesus, you’ve just been blatantly staring and checking her out for who knows how long, you creep. Bucky turns and returns back to the kitchen to prepare your bowl of pork and vegetables.

He’s never seen someone eat so much so fast. Shoveling food into your mouth, small dribbles of saliva leaking out of the corners every once in a while, your tastebuds overwhelmed by the amount of flavor. You’re on your third serving already, glass of water barely touched and you continue to eat and eat and eat.

When you finally put the last forkful of pork and vegetables in your mouth is when you finally reach for the water and gulp down almost the entire thing. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. Reminds him of himself when he had his first real meal after Hydra.

Bucky smiles as you let out a loud burp and he reaches to take your bowl and silverware. 

“Thanks, uh, for everything.” You say. Bucky looks over his shoulder from where he stands at the sink to see you looking at the ground.

“Don’t mention it. I, of all people, know what it’s like after, well, you know.” Bucky stumbles on his words.

“Yeah, well, it’s what I got to do, so,” You stand and he notices you look for anything you might’ve brought, even though you both know you had nothing on you.

“You goin’ somewhere? Got a place you’re staying at?” Bucky asks, shutting off the water and follows you as you pass through the living room and back into his bedroom.

“Is that a joke?”

You step back into the bathroom to grab your bloody clothes from the ground and you go back near the window to grab your shoes that you’re pretty sure flew off your feet when you flung yourself through Bucky’s window. Bucky’s hand stops your movement as it rests on your shoulder. He gently spins you around to face him.

“You nearly got yourself cut in half. With all the blood you lost, you should spend the night here.”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda dangerous to have two of America’s Most Wanted in the same apartment building?” You question, trying to find any excuse to get yourself out of here. You did what you wanted to here, even if it was stupid. Don’t go from stupid to moronic by getting comfortable. No matter how inviting those blue eyes are.

“Technically, I was pardoned by the government, so I'm no longer wanted. I can’t speak on your behalf though. But I’m sure two military trained killers can take care of themselves and each other.” 

“You take the guest room and I’ll take the couch. I’ll lock up the bedroom in case those baddies come back ‘round here and I’ll fix up the lock tomorrow.” Bucky walks over to his closet door and slides it open to grab two fluffy blankets from the very top shelf above his rack of clothes.

He turns back to face you and stares at you until you finally drop your shoes back on the ground. He gives you a small smile before walking out of his bedroom. You hear him lock his bedroom door after you exit and stand awkwardly until he can show you where his guest bedroom is.

Bucky can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when he turns around to see you, looking so small in his oversized clothes, folding your hands together, looking around the room, waiting for him to finish up. He chews on his lip hard to make the smile go away as he steps forward and down the hall to the guest bedroom door. He opens it for you and lets you step inside and glance around the room.

He notices the way you look around the room, making a mental note of everything in it, what can be used as a weapon, what can’t, as well as your eyebrow twitch at the realization that there’s no windows and no other means of emergency escape except through the main door. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. 

“I’ll, uh, be out in the living room, if you need anything. Uh, goodnight.” Bucky says awkwardly as you give him an equally awkward smile in return. 

Sleep comes easy to you that night, but you’re sure it has nothing to do with the supersoldier cuddled up with a little white kitten in the living room outside your door.

…

Bucky wakes up later than usual the next morning. Small claws stretch across his large chest as a very hungry kitten is awake and upset that there’s no food automatically in his bowl that morning. Bucky rubs his hands roughly against his face before swinging his feet over the edge of the couch and standing up. 

After peeling open a can of cat tuna and plopping it in Alpine’s cat dish, he leaves the now satisfied kitty to go see how you’re doing.

He gently knocks on the door and opts to slowly move it open when there’s no response. He opens it completely when he realizes the room is completely unoccupied. The bed is completely made and Bucky feels the sheets to feel them cold. He walks back across the apartment to his bedroom to see your shoes gone as well. 

Bucky won’t lie and say he’s not at least a little bummed out. He was hoping you’d stay a bit longer. So that your wound can heal up, of course. He’s not sure if Hydra experimented on you to make you super but everyone needs some good rest every once in a while. 

Bucky lets out a sigh before moving back into the kitchen to begin preparing his own breakfast. 

“Hey, uh, Alexa? Can you shuffle my music library, please?” Bucky asks politely.

He watches the blue circle shift around before familiar trumpets begin to fill the room. Bucky rolls his eyes and breathes out a humorless laugh as he reaches into the cabinet by his legs to take out a pan.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven,”

“And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…” Bucky sings along softly.

[hrina]

Hanging by a Thread (Thank God for Sewing Needles II)

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 9.4k REQUESTED: yes!

hi everyone!!! i finished my last exam not even a week ago, and i’m so excited to start writing again! think of this sequel as me extending metaphorical olive branch, lmao 😘 i worked really hard on this piece, and im v happy with how it turned out! this little series honestly feels like my baby lol. as always, if u like it, please don’t hesitate to leave me some feedback! and here is where you can find the rest of my masterlist. enjoy! 💕

p.s. thank u to the ppl who acted as my betas!!! @yes-daddy-i-willl, @harryonstage and @smokeinherperfume i appreciate u sm! 

~*~

The past few months have probably been the best of Harry’s life.

Of course, he’s still got his challenges—snooty events filled with pretentious people, a mother who is just a bit too difficult to please, a schedule that leaves very little room for relaxation and leisure.

But all of that means nothing when he gets you to laugh at his corny jokes and stroke his cheek with delicate fingers. There have been negatives in his life, sure, but they’re greatly outweighed by the newly-offered benefits that accompanied his confession the night of the gala.

Benefits which he’s currently enjoying.

“Fuck, pet,” Harry groans, gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you from behind. Your skin slaps against his, and the obscene sound only adds to the growing fire in the pit of his stomach. His eyes rake up your naked body, from the round perk of your ass to where your fingers are fisting tightly at the silk sheets.

Harry’s pace nearly falters when he realizes just how many times he’d dreamt of having you like this: wrapped snugly around him, in his bed, moaning out his name like a prayer. He digs his fingers into the plushness of your hips, groaning low in his throat when the tip of his cock reaches even further inside of you. Your velvety walls flutter around him and you bury your face into the mattress, whining loudly.

“You’re so deep,” you choke out, subconsciously beginning to move in harmony with him. Each time he drills forward, you push back, and it makes a deep, guttural sound echo in the back of his throat.

“Fuckin’ love this cunt,” Harry swears, wrapping his arm around you so that he can cup your pussy; his fingers split apart around where you’re both joined, and he grinds the heel of his hand into your clit.

You squeal, trying to simultaneously escape the contact while pressing back against him. The both of you are ravenous, hot and sweaty. Harry drinks you in, running his free hand down your soft side, from your shoulder to your thigh. He doles out a quick, sharp spank to your ass, and you moan in affirmation, wiggling your backside to encourage him.

“Knew you’d like that,” he grins, giving in to your pleas. “Always did love it when I pushed you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry has stilled now, allowing you to control the pace at which his cock fucks into you. You work your hips along his length, purposely clenching around him and giggling innocently when he groans. His hands fly out to your waist, steadying you so that he doesn’t lose it and cum right then and there.

“That’s not fair,” he growls, pinching your skin in admonishment. “Don’t wanna nut off just yet, love. Want you to cum with me.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing, and I will,” you moan. 

Harry smiles, his fingers finding your clit once more; he rubs quick circles into the nub as he takes back control, beginning to pick up speed again. The wet sound of skin against skin grows louder with each thrust forward until it’s drowned out by your sharp gasp.

“That’s it,” Harry coaxes, watching with dark eyes as the muscles in your back tense up. “Cum for me, darling. Give me a good one.”

His words are enough to push you over the edge, and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. Harry grunts animalistically, throwing his head back when your cunt spasms around his cock. The heavenly sensation sets him off as well, and he releases a string of creative curse words as his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter shut. The knot in his pelvis explodes, and he hunches over you as he shoots hot ropes of seed into the condom.

For the next few moments, there’s only heavy panting and the shuffling of limbs. And then you laugh quietly, lifting your head from the bed and gazing up at him with twinkling eyes.

“That was really good,” you murmur; your lips curl up into a small, satisfied smile. “Even better than last time, and I didn’t think that’d be possible.”

Harry chuckles, pulling out of you slowly with a devious grin. “I’m full of surprises.”

You snort and push yourself up onto your knees. Your thighs shake a bit—something that doesn’t go unnoticed by him—as you turn around to face him. He’s in the middle of peeling off the condom, but you slip your fingers beneath his chin, angling his face up. He’s sporting a lazy, post-coital smirk, and a light sheen of sweat is apparent on his forehead. Without saying anything, you lean in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He sighs happily.

“I’m going to go pee,” you tell him, mumbling the words against his mouth. “And then I wanna cuddle. Is that cool with you?”

“Very cool.” Harry nods, and you grin. You slide off the mattress, your knees quivering slightly as you take a step toward the washroom. Harry bites his bottom lip, watching the way your ass jiggles with the movement and trying to quell the barbaric voice in his head that spurs him on.

He shrugs to himself. Fuck it.

A moment later, you feel a sharp smack on your bum, and you shriek in surprise, your hands flying down to shield the abused skin.

“Hurry,” Harry teases, beaming stupidly when you turn to shoot him an affronted look. You cackle and quickly speed away before he gets the chance to deliver another blow.

~*~

“Christ, woman,” Harry utters, tipping his head back against the wall of the small closet.

He’s not quite sure what’s come over you; fifteen minutes ago, you’d both been joking around, bumping hips while you raced to see who could fry an egg the fastest. The kitchens of the palace were quiet, with all the staff having gone home for the night. Harry knew that nobody would be down in the basement at two in the morning, and that’s why he’d suggested a little competition.

But now, he’s here: trapped inside a small storage room with his hands wound in your hair and your lips wrapped around his cock.

He really doesn’t know how you both ended up here. He vaguely remembers you laughing victoriously, sliding your fried egg onto a free plate and sticking your tongue out at him as he pouted. You’d won, and you’d celebrated by switching off the burners on the stove and grabbing his hand, pulling him into the nearest secluded space before kissing him frantically.

And now your tongue is laving up his shaft and you’re giggling softly to yourself while he grunts in pained delight.

“You gonna cum soon?” you whisper, pulling off of his cock so that you can press a quick kiss to his hip bone. Your hand doesn’t cease its movements along his dick, continuing to stroke him languidly. Harry nods, his lips parting slightly as he feels his thighs tense in anticipation.

“Don’t stop,” he breathes, rubbing his thumb against your temple. 

You smirk slightly, opening your mouth and tapping the head of his cock a few times against your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out, dipping it into his slit, and then Harry’s groaning far too loudly as he comes undone. You catch every drop of his release, swallowing enthusiastically before pressing one last kiss to his tip and tucking him back into his pants.

Harry’s out of breath when you stand back up, and he watches with tired eyes as you purse your lips to hide a proud smile. You yelp quietly when he grabs your face in his hands and plants a passionate, bruising kiss onto your mouth. Your fingers wrap around his wrists to keep him close, and for the next minute or so (which then bleeds into the rest of the night), all he can think about is how hard he’s fallen for you.

~*~

“We’re going to freeze to death, Your Lavishness. I hope you know that.”

“As long as we’re together, right?”

You scoff and roll your eyes playfully while Harry just grins at you. Two towels and a few blankets are bundled up in his arms, and you’ve got an extra few coverings draped over your left shoulder. You walk side-by-side, trying to appear as casual as possible whilst strolling through the basement halls. Harry nods graciously whenever a staff member from the kitchen passes you by.

You finally reach that same little nook in the wall. Harry peers around, making sure that no one is watching before he ushers you through the narrow door. You cough quietly when you step into the dark, dusty stone corridor.

“Ever think about renovating?” you joke, fumbling for your cell phone so that you can illuminate the way. You jump slightly when Harry’s right hand falls to your hip, guiding you along. Your cheeks warm at the contact and you smile to yourself, grateful that he can’t see your face from where he’s following behind you.

When you both finally reach your destination, you don’t miss the chill that bites at your skin (but of course it’d be a bit cool; it’s nearly February, and there’s a massive hole in the ceiling of the cave).

“We’re going to freeze to death,” you repeat. Harry shakes his head and laughs quietly. He makes his way over to the small pond in the middle of the cavern, dropping all of the fabric in his arms onto the ground. You snicker and do the same. Together, you both splay out the blankets and towels so that you’ve got a massive covered space onto which you can settle down. Once you’re just about finished, you stand back up, placing your hands on your hips and observing your handiwork.

“’S good, I reckon,” Harry says, smiling up at you. You return his dopey expression before crossing your arms over your body and tugging your shirt up over your head. Once you’ve successfully freed yourself of the material, you glance shyly down at him and bite your lip to conceal a giddy grin.

His eyes have gone wide, and his jaw is locked tightly in place. You cock an eyebrow, shooting him an expectant look.

“I thought we were getting naked.”

“Bleedin’—,” Harry doesn’t finish his sentence, instead scrambling to his feet. His fingers fly to the first button on his shirt, and he makes quick work of undoing each clasp. You watch with excited, hungry eyes as the expensive white fabric falls to the ground.

The two of you remove the rest of your clothes, shedding your pants and undergarments frantically. You’ve just unclipped your bra when Harry stumbles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. You both giggle into each other’s mouths, nearly tripping over a fold in the blanket below your feet.

“C’mon,” Harry murmurs, gently flicking your chin with his index finger. “I’ve already got goosebumps.”

“How unfortunate,” you reply dryly. ��Whose brilliant idea was it to go skinny dipping in the middle of January?”

“It was brilliant, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up.”

Harry grins boyishly at you before pinching his nose dramatically and leaping straight into the pond. Your jaw drops, and you dodge the droplets of water that have gone flying thanks to his theatrical display. Harry’s head appears from beneath the surface and he stands up, splaying out his arms as though he’s expecting some sort of praise. The water reaches just beneath his pectorals.

“How is it?” you ask nervously.

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s actually fine, love. C’mon in.”

And he honestly doesn’t look cold or uncomfortable, so you take his word for it and jump in.

You soon realize that you’ve made a grave mistake.

“Holy fuck!” You shriek as soon as the water surrounds you. It’s freezing.

And Harry’s grinning.

“You dick!” you accuse, splashing him before wrapping your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt to keep warm. “How did you manage to keep such a straight face?”

“It’s one of my many talents,” Harry replies smugly, and you scowl. You’re about to splash him again, but he quickly wraps his fingers around your forearms, stopping you before you succeed. “Smile for me,” he tells you, pressing his forehead against yours; he’s beaming like an idiot.

“Fuck you.”

“If you insist.”

You squeal with laughter when he grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his waist with ease. You’re still as frozen as ice, but Harry’s body heat is radiating off of his skin and lessening the chill.

“The water’s so cold,” you tell him, a mocking lilt infiltrating your words, “I’d be surprised if you were able to get it up.”

“Is that a challenge?” Harry asks, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly. His eyes flick downward for only a moment, and he wiggles his brows at you. “’Cause you seem to be doing just fine.”  

You follow his gaze, only to find that he’s staring at where your nipples have hardened and pebbled from the low temperature. As if to prove his point, Harry pinches one of them softly, and you yelp, batting his hand away.

“My boobs aren’t the same as your dick!”

“Right about that, love.” Harry snickers. “They’re much, much better.”

“You’re—,” you break off when he ducks his head, beginning to pepper soft kisses to the skin of your neck. “You’re too cheeky for your own good.”

“But you like it,” Harry laughs hotly into your throat, squeezing you closer to his body. His lips are soft as they sponge pecks along your jawline, and you can’t stop the content sigh that escapes your mouth. You jolt slightly when you feel him begin to stiffen against your thigh, and your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’ll be damned,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “You’re hard.”

~*~

When his sister had told him that there were ongoing preparations in the ballroom for the dinner, Harry hadn’t expected much. Perhaps a few members of the staff polishing the floors and dusting off the walls. He’d tried to wean more information from her, but Gemma had simply pursed her berry lips and shot him a look, as if telling him to go see for himself.

Once he pushes through the grand doors of the hall, however, he finds that his predictions had been very, very wrong.

There are several dozen employees milling around, setting up tables with crème-coloured sheets and sparkling silverware. Matching chairs are brought out and arranged in groups of eight around each placement. Harry looks to his right, watching as a team of individuals work together to roll out a velvet red carpet and smooth away any bumps and folds; the material spans from the very top of the staircase to about a quarter-way down the length of the room. There’s a tinkling sound from above, and Harry cranes his neck, his eyes going impossibly wide at the sight.

Oh, God.

They’ve brought out the good chandelier.

He hears a familiar laugh to his left, and his gaze falls on his mother, who is chatting casually with—of course—Marina.

“Mum!” Harry’s voice is uncharacteristically high as he makes a beeline in her direction. Anne catches sight of him and waves him over warmly, holding out her arms as he approaches.

“Hi, dear,” she says. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Harry rushes out, forcing a smile (though he’s pretty sure it resembles more of a grimace). “Hi, Marina,” he greets the other woman. 

Marina curtsies deeply, brushing her short black hair away from her face once she straightens back up. Today, she’s wearing a red dress with a slightly puffy petticoat and thick straps that rest on her shoulders. Naturally, her lips are painted the same shade of red, and when she beams happily at him, there’s that same smudge of lipstick on her teeth.

“Er,” Harry gnaws on the inside of his cheek, shuffling a bit awkwardly. He directs his next words to Marina. “Do you mind if I borrow my mum for a second?”

“Take your time.” She nods and curtsies yet again as she makes her exit, her short black heels clicking on the shiny floor.

Once she’s out of earshot, Harry turns to his mother, trying to decide how to properly articulate his thoughts. “Mum…,” he starts, but then his mind goes blank. Eventually, he sighs and regresses to the simplest question possible. “What’s all this?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Anne places a dainty hand on her chest as she laughs. Harry mimics her, though his chuckle is far less carefree, and he knows that he must look absolutely lost.

“I just—,” he gestures to the commotion around the ballroom, “Is this all for my birthday?”

“You only turn twenty-five once, love,” Anne smiles, one of her eyebrows kinking up amiably. “I just wanted this dinner to be special; plus, it’s only a few weeks away! I thought we could get a head start on the preparations.”

“And I appreciate that, I really do,” Harry says quickly. He reaches for his mother’s hand and gives it a light squeeze. “But don’t you think it’s all a bit…too much?”

“Nonsense,” Anne chuckles, placing her fingers on his biceps and giving his arms a few reassuring taps. “It’s your birthday, dear. And it’s quite the milestone, too. Won’t you give a poor mother the opportunity to arrange a nice dinner for her son?”

Harry smiles slightly, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he says once he pulls back. “I—thank you for all of this. I’ll let you get back to it.”

She beams and nods. Harry returns her expression, but his chest is tight and there’s an anxious knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He backs away from his mother, and his grin slides from his face as soon as he turns around. His feet carry him out of the ballroom quickly, and he pauses just outside the double doors to gather his thoughts.

She’s good.

Harry shakes his head, running his hands through his dark hair. He subconsciously begins to fiddle with a strand that curls right below his ear, twirling it around his index finger.

The dinner is going to take place in just over two weeks, and he still hasn’t told you how he truly feels about you.

A maid pushing a cart of cleaning supplies passes him, bowing her head dutifully in greeting. Harry does the same and tries for a smile, but it’s not sincere.

He’s pretty sure that he’s fucked, and unless he can come up with a quick yet effective solution, that’s how it’s going to stay.

~*~

When Harry phones you later that night, you’re hunched over your bathroom sink, scrubbing the remnants of a charcoal exfoliator from your face. You accept the call and immediately put it on speaker, squeezing your eyes shut and bending back down so that you don’t drip water onto the floor.

“Hey,” you say over the sound of the faucet. “Sorry, I’m just washing my face.”

“How very sophisticated of you.” Harry’s voice is deep and thick, as though he’s only minutes away from falling asleep. You laugh quietly and rub your palms over your cheeks one last time before turning off the sink and reaching for the small towelette next to you.

“Okay, I’m done,” you tell him, pressing the soft fabric against your skin to dry off. “How was your day?”

“Was alright,” Harry says simply, and though you can’t see him, you know he’s probably shrugging his shoulders. “Found out that Mum’s throwing a massive dinner for my birthday—I tried telling her that it was all too much but then she pulled the whole ‘it’s a milestone’ card.”

“It is a milestone.” You smirk, and Harry groans.

“Christ, you sound just like her.”

You giggle, wiping any excess water from your hands before chucking the small towel down onto the counter. “I think it’s nice that she wants to do this for you,” you say, reaching for your phone. “Before her diagnosis, my mother threw me a huge party for my twenty-first birthday. It was actually a lot of fun.” You smile fondly at the memory.

You make your way into your bedroom, tossing the device down onto the duvet and pulling your shorts down your legs. One of the straps of your tank top has slipped off of your shoulder, and you quickly yank it back up before tugging at the covers and sliding into bed. You set your cell phone onto the pillow next to your head before reaching over to flick off your lamp. A moment later, everything is dark.

“That sounds nice,” Harry replies; you can hear the smile in his voice.

“It was,” you agree. “My uncle’s turning fifty this year, and I’m pretty sure she’s already planning something big for him. She wants it to be a surprise, but I don’t know how well that’s going to turn out, considering she’s staying with him. It’s kind of hard to pull a fast one on your sibling when you’re both, like, living under the same roof.”

Harry snickers, and you bite your lip. “Sorry,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m rambling.”

“No, no,” Harry says. “It’s okay, love, I don’t mind. How was your day?”

“Same old,” you hum. “But it wasn’t too hectic, which was nice. Although…,” you grin deviously, “I did get a call around noon asking if there was space for a very last-minute booking for tomorrow.”

Harry chuckles sheepishly. “I’m a bit of a procrastinator, alright?”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Piss off.” He laughs, and you join in. After your giggles have trailed off into silence, he speaks again. “Can I take you out for ice cream tomorrow night? I can wait while you close up.”

“You won’t have to wait long,” you jest. “You’re my last appointment.”

“Really? Brilliant, then.”

You snort quietly, unable to stop a smile from curling along your lips. You turn onto your stomach, folding your arms over the pillow and settling your head down over your wrists. The screen of your phone has gone dark, but you still stare at it dreamily, wishing—more than anything—that you could have Harry laying here, instead. You can picture his boyish grin, his sparkling eyes, his messy hair. He’d probably want to cuddle and force you to spoon him, and you’d pretend to protest for a few moments before inevitably giving in.

“I miss you,” you say softly, the words hanging in the still air of your room. There’s a beat, followed by a second of shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Harry sighs.

“I miss you, too.”

You purse your lips.

“I just saw you a couple of days ago,” you say plainly. You’re trying to make light of your words, trying to disguise the painful pressure that’s suddenly formed in your chest. “It’s kind of stupid that I’m already missing you, isn’t it?”

“No,” Harry tells you. The sincerity in his voice is nearly tangible. “No, it’s not stupid at all. I promise.”

You nod, reaching back to pull the duvet up over your shoulders. Harry exhales quietly, and you close your eyes as you ask, “You tired?”

“A bit,” he purrs. “You?”

“Same.”

Harry hums faintly. “You should get to bed, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, inhaling deeply. “Goodnight, Your Lavishness.”

He chuckles. “Goodnight, my love.”

~*~

“I really like this pattern on you.”

“Find it sexy, do you?”

“Honestly, yeah.”

Harry groans. “Don’t do this to me. Not here.”

You flash him a wicked grin, running your fingers up his thighs and batting your eyelashes innocently. You’re on your knees in front of him, and your behaviour isn’t making it any easier for him to keep himself in check. He’s fully aware of the handful of stoic men standing just outside the door, and as much as he would love to show you off, he’s decided that he wants your moans to be reserved for his ears only.

“We could be quick,” you murmur, hooking your thumb into the dip of one of his pockets. “I could be quick.”

“You’re killing me,” Harry says, grimacing dramatically. You giggle quietly, securing a sewing pin in place and pushing off from your knees. Harry holds out his hands and helps you stand, and you curtsy teasingly once you’re properly on your feet.

“Thank you, Your Lavishness.”

He just smiles, folding his thumb beneath your chin and guiding you into a long, sickly sweet kiss. You cup his cheeks in your hands and grin against his lips, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with your pinky. Harry’s free hand falls to your hip, and he pinches your skin lightly over the material of your jeans. He laughs when you squeak and stiffen.

“Let’s go,” he tells you, peppering a few kisses to your forehead and along the bridge of your nose. “Gimme just a minute to get changed and then we’ll be on our way. I’m craving some of that cookie dough ice cream.”

You throw your head back and make a delighted sound. Your fingers run along the fabric of his lapels, tracing the design of vertical red and black stripes. “That’s the best one. Didn’t know I’d gotten myself a man of taste.”

“A man of impeccable taste,” Harry corrects. You snicker.

“Let’s not push it.”

~*~

“Oi, you had yours!” Harry lifts his ice cream cup out of reach when you try to jab your spoon into the cold treat. You laugh loudly, the sound echoing through the staircase of your apartment complex. Your place is located on the third floor, and you and Harry had both agreed to take the steps rather than the elevator (Harry’s telling himself that it’s because the pair of you need to work off the calories you’d just ingested, but in reality, he knows that it’s only because it allows him to spend a bit more time with you).

“I can’t help it!” You protest, grinning widely. “It was so good, I’m addicted now.”

“That sounds an awful lot like what you said after you first fell into bed with me.”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m joking, bleedin’ hell!” Harry races up the remaining few stairs while you chase him, swatting half-heartedly at his bum. You’re both in stitches and out of breath when you reach your door, and you fish your keys out from your purse while trying to curb your laughter.

Eventually, you manage to unlock the entrance. Harry’s still wheezing quietly when you tumble through the threshold and into the front hallway. You quickly remove your shoes and hang your purse and jacket against the wall before ushering him to do the same.

Your keys jangle when you set them down onto the kitchen counter. Harry takes a seat at the small island in the middle of your kitchen, placing his elbows onto the smooth surface and digging his spoon into what’s left of his ice cream.

“Want something to drink?” you ask, already beginning to rifle through your cabinets for glasses.

“Water’s fine, love,” he replies. “Thanks.”

“All that cookie dough got you thirsty?” You quip, shooting him a lopsided smirk. Harry chuckles when you slide a glass of water over to him. He picks it up and takes a hearty gulp before holding out the remainder of his dessert.

“Here,” he says. “Finish it off.”

“Are you serious?” Your face splits into a grin, and he can’t help but to return your happy expression. Your smile is just so goddamn contagious.

“I’m serious,” Harry affirms, laughing softly. “Take it, go on.”

You squeal joyfully, circling the island so that you can accept his offering and simultaneously press your lips to his. The action catches him a bit by surprise but he definitely isn’t complaining. You pull back slightly, littering small pecks against his Cupid’s bow and letting out dramatic smacking sounds with each kiss.

“You’re the best.”

“Am I?”

“Mm-hm. The finest man I’ve ever met.”

“Oi. Better stop that before I take you to bed,” Harry warns, feeling his cock give an admonitory twitch in his trousers. You simply smile, licking a scoop of ice cream off your spoon before flashing him a mischievous look.

“Is that a promise?”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re sat in his lap, your hips moving in slow undulations as his hands stroke up and down your back. Harry feels you shiver beneath his palms; his hands are a bit cold, contrasting dramatically with the warmth of your skin beneath your knitted sweater. You cup his face sweetly in your hands, your lips moving unhurriedly against his. He’s not sure if he wants to get you naked or if he wants to just stay like this, with his fingertips dancing along your skin and your satisfied sighs floating in the air.

“Do you wanna fuck?” you whisper, and Harry freezes, because…no.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t want to fuck. He doesn’t want to make you cum and then pretend as though his feelings don’t run so much deeper than what’s been established. He wants to be able to whisper words of adoration against your skin and profess his feelings for you after the whole ordeal is over. He wants to tell you how much you mean to him. He wants to finally end a bloody phone call with, “Love you, bye.”

“Actually,” he grunts, his voice slightly hoarse. He places his palms on the cushions, pushing himself up a bit. “I was kind of hoping to first talk to you about something, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” you reply easily, shrugging. You brush a strand of hair away from his forehead and poke the space where his dimple usually appears. “What’s up?”

“I told you about my mum throwing me that birthday dinner,” Harry starts, and you nod. “And I was just wondering…would—would you wanna go?”

“Okay,” you say, but Harry knows that the true intentions behind his request haven’t fully settled in.

“No,” he says slowly. “I mean…would you wanna go…as my date?”

You tense.

“As your date,” you repeat, as though checking to make sure you’ve heard him correctly. 

Harry nods, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. You sigh quietly, sitting back a bit and running your fingers through your hair. The expression on your face is indecipherable, and Harry thinks that seeing you wear a mask of indifference is far worse than any amount of anger that could warp your features.

“Harry…,” you begin softly. Your eyes are sad, and he already knows where you’re going with this.

“You like me, don’t you?” He rushes out, nearly biting his tongue in his haste. When you hesitate, his heart drops into his stomach. “Don’t you?”

“I do,” you whisper; there are tears slowly gathering along your waterline. “I just—I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“For what?” He questions, nearly begging. “How’s it any different than when I took you to the gala?”

He doesn’t understand. It suddenly feels like someone has set his whole world on fire, and he can’t do anything but watch as the flames mount higher and higher and burn everything to the ground.  

“It’s very different and you know it,” you say thickly. Air escapes from your mouth in a trembling exhale. 

Harry wants to argue, but he recognizes that you’re right. The circumstances aren’t the same. His intentions aren’t the same. And he knows that the potential repercussions won’t be the same, either.

“I’m not ready to be in the spotlight,” you elaborate; your voice wavers slightly. “I—I’ve seen how the world works, Harry. They’d tear me to shreds.”

“It’s none of their business, is it?” Harry tries again, reaching for your hips, but you quickly slide off of him and stand up. 

He watches as you step back, trying to put as much distance as you can between the two of you. It makes his chest ache, and he feels like he’s choking, his throat closing up when he tries to regulate his breathing.

“It’s not,” you agree, sniffling gently. “But that doesn’t stop them, does it? And what about your mother? Your sister?”

“Gemma loves you,” Harry implores. “C’mon, love, you know that.”

“And Anne?” Your laugh is hollow as you shake your head sadly. “I’m no idiot, Harry. I know that she’s got her own opinions, and I don’t think she’d be very happy to hear that you’re fooling around with someone like me.”

“What do you mean, someone like you? What—?”

“Someone normal! Someone average.”

“Average,” Harry echoes; the word tastes vile on his tongue. “Love, you’re—you’re anything but average.”

“That’s not how she’ll see it,” you tell him, hugging yourself tightly. 

Harry’s heart is pounding erratically beneath his ribs. He places his palms on his knees and stands up, hoping that the abrupt move won’t scare you away. He’s half-expecting you to take another step back, but his veins flood with a touch of relief when he sees that you’ve stayed rooted to the spot.

“You’re not average,” Harry insists, raking his fingers through his hair. “And I’m not just ‘fooling around’ with you, Y/N, I’m bloody in love with you!”

And then it’s there, out in the open, available for you to dissect and analyze as you please. Harry’s eyes widen slightly when he fully processes his words, but it’s too late. The syllables hang in the air like dusty cobwebs; Harry feels like they’ve been printed out onto a piece of parchment and taped onto his forehead. You’re staring at him with parted lips and terrified eyes, and when you choke on a sob he wants to punch himself in the face.

“Stop,” you croak, shaking your head and holding up your hand. “Please just—stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, but it feels like he’s underwater, the words wobbling from his lips and muffled in his ears. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, wiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. “I just—I can’t do this right now. It’s not a good time.”

“Is everything alright?” Harry’s brows cinch together.

You wave off his concerns, trying to speak through your tears. “Everything’s fine. But I…I need some time alone right now, Harry. I’m sorry.”

He nods dejectedly, swallowing down the lump in his throat. 

“’Course,” he mumbles. He’s trying to hold in his own emotions, but his eyes are itching with sadness and humiliation. “I’ll go.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, a fresh wave of tears spilling over your waterline. You cover your mouth with your hand to keep your cries at bay as you watch him walk away. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry doesn’t respond, because he doesn’t have to; the sound of your front door opening and closing rings louder than anything that he could’ve ever said.

~*~

“Hey.”

Gemma knocks after she’s already opened the door, which Harry finds silly. He turns over so that he doesn’t have to face her, instead giving her a wonderful view of his back, which is covered in a periwinkle silk pajama top. He grunts softly as he pulls the duvet up his body, clutching the luxurious fabric to his chest and smothering the left side of his face into his pillow.

“Hey,” he croaks back.

Gemma bites her lip before deciding to take the plunge. She slips through the gap in the door before shutting it quietly.

“You weren’t at the brunch,” she states. “One of the duchesses asked about you, but Mum said you weren’t feeling well, so…I just wanted to check in.”

“I’m fine,” Harry mutters. “Thanks.”

Gemma hesitates before barrelling through, because she’s never been one to avoid a problem.

“Did something happen?” she asks gently. She knows better than to confront him with a hard tone, because her brother has always been a sensitive grump. When he gets like this, it’s very easy to say the wrong thing and have him close up quicker than a beartrap. So, she chooses her words carefully, speaking them with delicate prose and never pressuring him to answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.” His reply is muffled and monosyllabic. She’s about to give up and leave, but then he adds, “Just did something stupid, that’s all.”

That’s a good sign, Gemma decides, and she presses subtly.

“I’m sorry things are hard right now,” she starts. “If you need to vent, I’m here.”

“It’s alright,” Harry shakes his head slightly. “Don’t wanna waste my breath. It’s been a week, and she’s not called, so I’d say it’s a lost cause.”

“‘She’?” Gemma questions, taking advantage of her brother’s small slip. “Are you talking about Y/N?”

The stiffening of Harry’s shoulders tells her everything she needs to know.

“Did something happen with her?” Gemma probes, digging deeper. She understands that she’s treading far too recklessly; if Harry’s worries are uncharted waters, she’s navigating with a flimsy paper sailboat. Still, she persists. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine.” Harry sighs before adding, “Least, I think she is; I dunno. She’s refused to talk to me, hasn’t she?”

“H,” Gemma says quietly, closing her eyes and rubbing at her temples. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Harry grumbles, curling into himself, and his sister knows that he’s through with their conversation. “I’m done talking about this,” he states, as though he needs to drive home his point. Gemma steps back and nods, even though she knows that he can’t see her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “I’m sorry, I won’t pry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry replies, his voice low and scratchy. “Can you please tell Mum that I’m still feeling shitty?”

She nods, because it technically wouldn’t be a lie.

“H,” Gemma calls out once she’s got one hand on the doorknob. “I wouldn’t worry too much, you know. She really fancies you; I can tell.”

At that, Harry peers over his shoulder, gracing his sister with his side profile. His eyes are inquisitive, and his lips are pursed into a fine line as questions whirl around in his head. He eventually settles on the simplest query imaginable. “You knew?”

Gemma snorts. “Of course. You lot really aren’t too subtle with how you ogle each other.” She pauses for a moment. “Pretty sure Mum’s caught on, too, but you know her. She likes to wait for confirmation before jumping to any conclusions.”

“Mum knows?” Harry’s voice rises an octave; his sister shushes him.

“Relax,” she says, “She hasn’t thrown a fit about it—at least, not to my knowledge. You really are quite dense, aren’t you?”

“Piss off,” Harry grumbles, but—to her surprise—he doesn’t turn back around. In fact, Gemma thinks that she may have even seen the hint of a small, relieved smile pull at his lips. She nods soundly before pulling open his bedroom door.

“You can mope around for the rest of the day, but tomorrow I want to discuss with you the guestlist for your dinner.” She fixes him with an expectant glare. “I’m assuming you want me to leave Y/N’s name on it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry echoes. There’s a hollowness to his voice, but also a hint of something else—gratitude, maybe. 

“Gem,” he speaks up quickly before she can disappear. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Gemma replies. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then she’s gone.

~*~

Your day starts off exactly how it had the day before…and the day before that…and the day before that.

You wake up and for the first minute or so, you’re blissfully oblivious. You stretch and squeak and sigh contentedly when your joints crack. The past few mornings have been unusually nice, and you relish in the sunlight that streams in from your window. The space beneath your blankets is warm, and you wiggle your toes to urge some feeling back into your feet. A few inches away, your phone is charging on your bedside table (you know that you’re not supposed to leave it plugged in for the entire night, but it’s easier that way).

And then the memories from a week ago come rushing back, and you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

I’m not just ‘fooling around’ with you, Y/N, I’m bloody in love with you!

You squeeze your eyes shut, groaning loudly and burying your face into your pillow. If you could somehow strangle yourself with your own two hands, you would. You deserve it, anyway, you think.

You remember the night before everything had crumbled, when you’d asked him over the phone if it was stupid that you were missing him after only a few days apart from each other. Even then, the pair of you had been messaging back and forth and clinging to some sort of communication. You hadn’t been truly prepared for what it would be like to not speak with him at all for a full week.

You despise it, though. That’s a given.

You roll out of bed and decide to take a quick shower before pulling on your clothes for the day. Under the warm spray of the water, you soap up your body and watch childishly as the white lather drips from your fingertips. You hate that it reminds you of the way Harry would constantly shake out his wet hair whenever you both crept away to go skinny dipping. After the first instance, you’d both agreed to make it a habit, and you’d stuck to the resolution with a worrying amount of willpower.

You shake your head free of the recollection, quickly rinsing off and shutting the water.

As you rifle through your closet, your eyes land on the red gown you’d worn to the gala all those months ago. You freeze, trying to compose yourself. The lump in your throat proves difficult to swallow but, nonetheless, you manage. With a gentle sigh, you tear your gaze away from the ruby-coloured fabric and settle on a plain white V-neck and a simple navy blue cardigan.

You’re in the middle of tugging your jeans up your legs when your phone chimes with a notification. Leaning over, you unlock the device, and you swear quietly upon discovering that it’s a reminder from your calendar.

One week until His Royal Lavishness’s birthday!

You’d added a few emojis after the exclamation point, and with each party hat, balloon, and crown that your eyes skim over, a new crack forms in your armour. You quickly swipe your thumb to the side and disregard the reminder, turning off your phone and clearing your throat when the screen goes black.

That’s enough of that.

~*~

You’re just pencilling in a follow-up appointment for your last client of the day when the small bell above the entrance of the shop jingles pleasantly.

“I’m so sorry,” you call out politely, keeping your gaze trained on your computer screen. “I’m about to close up for the evening.”

“Of course, dear.” The woman’s voice carries a delicate lilt, and your eyes widen in shock. “This will only take a minute.”

Anne is quite literally glowing when you meet her gaze. You stand abruptly and bow your head, feeling a warm flush creep up onto your cheeks. “Your Majesty,” you say quickly, feeling your heartbeat accelerate beneath the cage of your ribs. “Hi, hello. Good evening. How are you?”

You’re rambling, and you couldn’t be more embarrassed. Anne laughs softly.

“Enough of that, darling,” she tells you. “Come here. Give me a hug.”

“I—okay, sure.” You gnaw anxiously on your bottom lip as you slip out from behind your desk. She holds her arms out and flashes you a warm smile. Despite the tension in your shoulders, her embrace is calming, and you feel yourself relax in her hold. She smooths her palms up and down your back and tilts the two of you from side to side. You giggle.

“How can I help you?” you ask, glancing nervously as a handful of men pile into the store. They’re all wearing black suits and dark sunglasses, and a coiled wire hooks a small device into their right ears. Their faces are unreadable, but being around Harry so often, you’ve learned that they’re fully capable of cracking a joke or two when the situation allows for it.

You shake your head slightly, trying to eradicate all thoughts of Harry from your mind. Now isn’t the time.

“Just felt like paying you a short visit,” Anne answers, pulling back and staring at you with piercing green eyes. You try to avoid shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. Not only does it feel like she’s peeling back every layer of your being, but her irises are identical to those of her son.

“How’s your mum?” Anne continues, oblivious to your internal turmoil.

“She’s good,” you reply, nodding. “Doing better than ever. How are you? How’s your family?”

How’s Harry?

It’s the only thing you care about, the most pressing question on the tip of your tongue. But you clamp your mouth shut before the words can escape, reeling in your yearning and trying to keep a level head. If you were alone with her, you might have dared to ask. But standing in front of several resigned, apathetic—and frankly, intimidating—men, you feel far too naked already.

“I’m doing alright.” The queen’s lips quirk up into a small, clever smile. “I’ve got nothing to complain about, really. Gemma’s wonderful, but she says she misses you. Harry does, too.”

Your eyes drop to the floor and stay there; you’re too ashamed to meet her gaze. Anne notices your sudden apprehension—humiliation is written all over your face. She steps forward, her fingertips brushing your wrist before she sets a comforting hand onto your arm, just above the crook of your elbow.

“I’m not one hundred percent certain of what’s going on with you and my son,” she starts. Your heart plummets, and your shoulders tense up as she continues. “But I do know that you haven’t been coming around as much, recently. And—coincidentally—Harry hasn’t been in too much of a chipper mood these past several days.”

You gulp.

Anne holds up her hands in mock-surrender. “I know it’s none of my business,” she says gently. “But I…I would like to see the two of you on good terms again. You lot were quite precious, if I’m being honest.”

You laugh softly, but it feels like there’s an elephant sitting on your chest. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She smiles. “And just know that you’re always welcome to attend Harry’s upcoming dinner, whether you want to or not. I hope to see you there.”

You flash her a small smile, gratitude and pain evident in your expression. Anne pulls you in for one more hug before bidding you goodbye, and you watch with stinging eyes and a tight throat as she exits the shop. The room suddenly feels impossibly tiny, and you glance quickly at the walls to make sure that they are, in fact, not closing in on you.

When the last of the queen’s guards slips outside, you’re left alone, standing in the middle of the small lobby and trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

~*~

Harry’s admiring himself in the massive, three-faced mirror in the corner of his bedroom when the door cracks open slowly. He watches through the reflection as Jeff pokes his head into the room while tightening the black tie around his neck.

“H,” he says gruffly, his expression unreadable. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Harry nods at him and leans in, skirting his thumb along the corner of his lips to make sure that there’s no excess lip balm gathering along the edges of his mouth. There’s a dull pain thrumming beneath his sternum, but it doesn’t worry him as much as it normally would. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s one of the side effects of a broken heart.

He had been trusting that this past week would be easier without you, but his hopes were dashed quite rapidly. Everything reminded him of you.

He’d scrolled through his phone for hours, one night, reading over your previous conversations and trying not to let his tears drip onto the screen. He hasn’t even touched the playlists you’d previously shared with him, knowing that he’ll end up associating every song with some part of you. He’d lied to his mother about feeling sick for five days straight, but he’d finally called off the ruse when she’d declared that she was going to head into town herself and return with some medication. And he hasn’t been back down to your “spot” since the night everything went to shit, leaving the small cave abandoned and alone.

Harry sighs. He’s obviously no good at dealing with breakups.

Does this even count as a breakup?

He honestly doesn’t know.

He’s fiddling absentmindedly with the lapels of his pinstriped suit when a slight movement in the mirror catches his attention. His breathing stops, and his eyes grow unfeasibly wide as he watches someone step into the room.

Speak of the fucking devil.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

You’ve definitely achieved a perfect score with your outfit, decked out in a pretty black dress that reaches a few inches above the knee. The long sleeves are lacy and end right at the crook of your arm, leaving your shoulders bare. In one hand, you’re gripping a small silver clutch; in the other, there’s a bright yellow gift bag with blue tissue paper sticking out of the top. Harry watches you shuffle nervously in your black, strappy heels, his heart hammering wildly beneath his ribs. You’re gorgeous. You’re absolutely beautiful.

And you’re here.

“Hi,” he chokes out, meeting your gaze in the mirror. He quickly realizes, however, that he’d very much prefer to see the real thing, so he spins around and faces you properly. 

You approach him slowly, stopping when your bodies are only a few feet apart.

“How are you?” you ask, gnawing anxiously on your bottom lip. Harry opens his mouth to respond, but then you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut, seeming to silently reprimand yourself. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

And then you’re thrusting out the hand that’s carrying the gift bag, the action robotic and abrupt. The sheer blue tissue paper crinkles with the movement, and for a few long seconds, it’s the only sound in the room.

“Happy birthday,” you whisper, the words feeble as they roll off of your tongue.

Harry clears his throat, tucking a curl behind his ear and gingerly taking the present from you. He tries to ignore the way his skin tingles knowingly when his fingers brush against yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs, gently toying with the edges of the bag.

“You can open it,” you tell him, and Harry’s worried that your lip is going to split open from how hard you’re biting down on the soft flesh. You continue, beginning to ramble. “I wasn’t really sure what to get you, because how do you shop for someone who’s already got everything, you know? So, I—,” you shrug, “I just figured I’d make it myself.”

He pulls the tissue paper to the side, fumbling for a fleeting second before his hand bumps into something soft. Harry grasps it and pulls it out, studying the object carefully.

Clutched in his fingers is a small throw pillow, no bigger than his hand. It’s rectangular in shape and ivory in colour, so pale that it’s almost white. Along the edges, you’ve carefully sewn a simple lace trim. And in the middle, embroidered in red, the word LOVED stands out in capital letters.

Harry stays silent, admiring your handiwork. It’s clear that you’ve dedicated a lot of time and effort into the cushion—each stitch is perfectly placed, and the needlework is meticulous and nothing short of impeccable. He runs his fingers along the lace border, marvelling at the softness of the material. There’s a lump in his throat, and try as he might, he can’t seem to swallow it down.

You take his silence as disappointment.

“I thought you might like it,” you say hastily, playing with the silver bracelet on your wrist. “I know you’ve got those pants with that same design—and you wear them all the time—so I just assumed…yeah.” You catch your breath, fixing him with a fretful look. “You hate it, right?”

“No,” Harry says immediately, his head snapping up. He stares into your eyes, shaking his head earnestly. “No, not at all. It’s—it’s incredible. Truly.”

“I just thought you should have something else,” you start, swallowing heavily. “Something else that reminds you of—of how loved you really are. Anne loves you; so does Gemma.” You inhale shakily. “And so do I.”

The little bit of air residing in Harry’s lungs is quickly lost when he processes your words. His breathing hitches quite audibly in his throat, and he studies you with intense, piercing eyes. You stare right back, and he finds nothing but sincerity beneath your gaze. He’s never seen you so vulnerable.

“You do?” he asks, but the question actually sounds like more of a statement. You nod vehemently—your eyes shine with unshed tears—and bless him with the confirmation that he needs to hear.

“I do.”

And then he’s kissing you, and you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and whimpering against his lips and trying to get as close to him as possible, and everything is perfect. Harry’s got your face in his hands, your mouths convening with a bruising force. He swallows down your soft cries of relief and fights to keep his own tucked away. Your fingertips dig into his back and you pull him in until there’s not enough room to slip even a piece of paper between your chests.

When you both finally break apart for a much-needed gulp of air, Harry presses his forehead to yours, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s trapped in his own head and then promptly wrenched from his thoughts when he realizes that you’re speaking.

“I’m so sorry,” you’re prattling; he doesn’t miss the crack in your voice. “I just—I needed to think. I’m sorry it took so long; it’ll never happen again—”

“Shh.” He soothes you, stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs. “It’s alright, love, I promise.” He shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you confess, playing inattentively with his hair. You reach up to wipe a smear of lipstick from his mouth. The plum colour stands out against his pink lips, and he nips teasingly at the pad of your finger, making you giggle softly. A long beat of silence ensues, and neither of you bother to break it, basking in the solace of the other’s proximity.

Eventually, you’re the first to speak up, but your voice is gentle, as though you don’t want to disrupt the serenity in the room.

“Thanks for leaving my name on the guestlist, by the way,” you murmur. “I would’ve looked really stupid, otherwise, just standing outside with a gift bag and this whole speech ready to go along with it.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Was praying you’d show up. Last hope and all.”

“I’m here,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulders. His warm breath fans out onto your chin—a gentle reminder that he’s here too—and you sigh in delight. “You look so handsome.”

Harry can’t keep the smile off of his face. “Thank you. I’ll give your regards to the tailoress, yeah?”

You chuckle bashfully.

“You look absolutely magnificent,” he continues, his words keen and ardent. “Took my breath away the second you walked in. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I am.” You nod, pulling back and gazing up at him with heartfelt eyes. His palms find your cheeks again, and he feels your jaw move beneath his touch as you speak. “I love you, Your Lavishness. I’m yours.”

And Harry really doesn’t know how to convey his newfound joy, so he just kisses you again.

 ~*~

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[descendantofthesparrow]

Harry Hook x reader - Misunderstanding

goofygirl05 on wattpad

um could u make one with reader getting into a fight with Harry bc he ditched her on her bday to hook up but in reality he had a gift for her and some time passed and reader finds Harry drunk and they confess their feelings

you are the daughter of the queen of hearts

 you cant believe it, he left, he left you alone on your birthday to hook up, hook up with some random broad, and your sister no less!!

It hurt, you weren’t dating him but it hurt, you have been in love with him since you were 12, now today you turned 17, 6 years, 6 years of staring sadly as he flirted with uma, chased others skirts(and some pants), and the most he did with you was act friendly.

Harry hook, the son of captain hook ditched you on your 17th birthday to hook up with Cora, your sister!! The first daughter of the queen of hearts (refrences~).

your mother owned a hair salon and a jewelry shop.

But that’s not important.

What was important is that you were waiting at the chip shop, waiting for harry for three hours, when you asked gil where he was, he had said “oh he's with Cora, I think they were doing it or something”

Your heart shattered, harry…harry had abandoned you…for your own sister, who bullied your relentlessly and had stolen all of your previous boyfriends (you were only with them for flings, but she stole them anyway)?

Harry would rather be with that witch than you, who had always treated him with kindness, who had cared for him when he had gone through a bad night with his dad, who had helped him when he had gotten the stomach flu.

He dropped all of that, for your bitch of a sister.

You stayed silent, not responding to either gil or uma, your anger boiling to the top.

Then HE entered.

He locked eyes with you, smiled and strutted over to you. You glared, making him stop.

“love, why are yeh lookin at meh like tha’ “ he furrowed his brows, looking confused. “Why?” you seethed, standing from the table making the stool you were sitting on fall to the ground, making harry flinch. “because you left me alone on my birthday to hook up with my fucking sister!!!!” you screamed Harry's eyes widened, still looking confused, but you didn’t fall for it.

“love, wait, what are ye-“

“don’t give me that crap Hook!! You let me sit here for hours wondering where you were, only to find out you were fucking my bitch ass sister!!”

“love please”

“DON’T CALL ME LOVE!”

You had the attention of the other patrons now, all wide-eyed and brows raised at the argument.

“just let me explain-“

“YOU DON’T NEED TO, YOU THOUGHT THAT SEX WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ONE OF YOUR OLDEST FRIENDS BIRTHDAY”

“(y/n) please it isn-“

“DON’T TALK TO ME, WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO FUCK SOME SKANK, OU SEEM TO BE GOOD AT THAT” tears streamed down your face, and you ran past harry, out the chip shop doors, and to your hideout.

You heard harry call after you, pleading for you to come back. But you didn’t listen, you just continued to run.

---

Hours later, you heard a slam at the door, and you slowly sat up from your bed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, grasping your steel bat from the nightstand.

You suddenly opened the door and yelped when a tall heavy figure collapsed on you, rum and ocean filling your senses.

“what the”

“why *hic* why won’ ye’ let me, expln meself loove”

Harry hook was in your arms, drunk, face flushed red and tears in his eyes. “I didn’t hoo’k up with yer sista, she was-*hic* she was helpin meh pick yer pre-present”

A clumsy drunk hand dug into his coat pocket, bringing out a flat box, and pressing it to your chest.

“i-I was looking fer the perfect one-i-you need *hic* the bestest one or it-it wouldn’t be worthy of yeh”

Harry collapsed against the wall, sniffing and rubbing his face.

“im-so*hic* sorry about leaving yeh the wait love I just *hic*-just wanted it teh be a surprise”

It was a simple ruby necklace, with a gold chain and when you picked it up, you felt a carving on the back, turning you saw wording.

You gasped,

I love you my queen

And below the ruby gem was a small note saying

Be mine?

-harry

Tears dripped down your face, looking at Harry, curled up on the floor.

“i-*sob* I love yeh so much love, im-im so sorry I *hic* left yeh all alone i-I” he babbled, tears dripping down his cheeks.

You kneeled down in front of him, carefully taking his hands, which clutched onto yours tightly.

“harry” you spoke slowly, his bloodshot eyes locked with yours, hope shining in his dim blue eyes “you're not sober, let's get you some water and sleep, and then we can talk about this in the morning, okay?”

Harry let out a few stuttered breaths, before nodding slightly and letting you help him up from the floor.

“come on, ooof, god your heavy, there we go”

You flopped harry onto your bed, undoing his boots and tossing them behind you, letting drunk emotional harry undo his belts, which he chucked at the wall.

You grabbed one of your rare un-opened water bottles, and cracked it open, handing it to harry, who downed it easily.

“sleep”

Harry sniffed, and buried his face in your pillow, smiling as your scent filled his senses. “smel’s like yeh”

He mumbled, cuddling the pillow.

You stared at him as he fell asleep, snoring as he did.

You would deal with this bullshit in the morning, you were exhausted after the drama of the day.

Worst.birthday.ever.

----

“(y-y/n)?”

Harry's soft voice woke you up, sniffing, you sat up from the couch, locking eyes with Harry's ocean blue ones, staring at you in confusion and worry.

“um, can-can we talk about yesterday?” he mumbled, eyes flicking down to his hands, which were fiddling with the belts sewed into his pants.

“harry” you sighed, he froze, peeking up at you through his eyelids. “I…” you stopped, biting your lip, Harry's shoulders slumped.

“Okay, I get it, ill go”

Harry started to stand when you stood up quickly and grabbed the box holding the necklace.

“do you mean it?”

Harry slowly started to turn red, eyes flitting around the room, mouth opening and closing.

“i-i…yes” harry gave in, looking humiliated, “I know, im so fucking stupid teh think tha’ I would stand a chance with yeh, and that you never want anything teh do with meh ever aga-mpph!”

You surged forward, catching Harry's lips with yours, shutting him up. Harry froze, stiff and unsure, before melting into the kiss, eye fluttering closed, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Soon your lungs screamed at you to pull away and breath, so you did, a trail of spit still connecting you and harry. Harry's eyes were still closed, his breath stuttery and heavy.

“harry” you whispered, Harry's eyes fluttered open, locking directly with yours.

“I love you too”

His eyes brightened, the dim ocean blue becoming bright as if the sun was shining directly through the waves.

“r-really?!”

He was like a puppy, his leg twitching like it did when he was nervous and didn’t have his hook.

“you mean it?!”

You smiled, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms surrounding your torso tightly.

“I do, Im in love with you harry hook.”

You heard harry laugh excitedly, standing up with you and spinning you around.

Best.day.after.birthday.ever.

--the end--

[shirtlesssammy]

8x22: Clip Show

Then:

Cas almost gets hit on by Dean 

Now:

Lost Creek, Colorado

A couple are at a cabin in the woods, and the woman is so happy that her boyfriend finally joined her. He acts like it’s no big deal but we flash back to a memory —specifically of Supernatural season 1, episode 2: Wendigo. He’s Tommy and has some serious PTSD from the terror he experienced that night in the woods.

He thinks he hears a growl and pulls his girlfriend away from the window. He knows that a Wendigo is outside and pulls out a flare to take the unseen monster out. He crumples to the floor and then just explodes right in front of his girlfriend. Eeerp.

At the bunker, the brothers continue to find records that the Men of Letters have kept over the years. Sam’s not doing so well due to all the Trials. He’ll feel better once they finish them.

Cas shows up in the war room, and it appears that Dean and Cas didn’t follow the golden rule of not going to bed angry. Dean doesn’t even acknowledge the angel. Cas is still convalescing. He sits down to talk with Sam a bit about the trials. Dean comes back with food for Sam—well, jerky, beer, and peanut butter cups. 

Cas offers to go with Dean for more food, but still gets the cold shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For everything.” Classic DeanCas, lol. (Brb, off to throw myself off a cliff.) Oh wait there’s more, Dean calls out Cas with the whole bolting with the angel tablet and adds, “You didn’t trust me?” 

THESE BOYS ARE NOT IN LOVE:

Cas is contrite but Dean is not accepting his apology. Sam stays out of it all for a bit but interrupts eventually to pull Dean aside to make it clear that Cas is one of the good guys. What’s that saying? Dean’s harder on Cas because he loves him the most? Well, meh, I do like their later seasons of grumpy banter more than the divisiveness of right now.

In any event, the brothers head to a storage room. 

Sam wants to find a case that their records mentioned. He finds the box, and Dean finds a dungeon! Sam’s box contained a movie film.

They set up the movie (They even made popcorn, guys!)

It’s an old black and white film of the Men of Letters. Josie, the woman that Abaddon possessed, is filming the experiment. They have a demon captured in the very dungeon the Winchesters just discovered. They throw holy water on the demon, recite an incantation at it, and then one priest cuts his hand and presses it on the demon. It flares out, apparently gone. The film stops. It was weird (!!!) One of the priests is still alive and Sam thinks it’s a good idea to get the lowdown on what they just watched on the film. Cas wants to go too but Dean won’t hear of it. (Brb, flinging myself off another cliff. DO NOT LIKE.)

Cut to the brothers meeting with the priest. He tells them that the other priest believed that demons could be saved. He thought that they could cure the demon and they could be a normal human soul again. There were other experiments after that one attempt, and then the priest ended up dead a couple months later. Something had torn him apart. Sam tries asking about records but goes into a coughing fit, complete with blood. He heads to the bathroom while Dean continues to talk with the priest. The priest agrees to give them the other priest’s papers.

Meanwhile, Cas is on a mission to make up with Dean. He’s at a Gas ’n Sip and pulling all the essentials to make Dean like him again.

Ways to woo Dean Winchester:

Beef Jerky

Porn

TP

Beer

Protein

AND Smiting the sap who can’t provide the pie

Cas almost smites the poor attendant. Metatron interrupts. They need to talk.

He wants to talk about Heaven. It’s apparently a mess up there without the archangels. Naomi isn’t in charge as much as she’s led Cas believe. Cas blames himself for everything that’s happened in heaven. (URGH, no! —I mean, yeah, but NO). Metatron thinks they can buddy up and save the day! They can sort everything out. First, they need to shut down Heaven. Then he mentioned crepes and flies away.

At the bunker, Sam can’t find Cas. Dean doesn’t care (URGH, no!) They decide to watch the last audio recording before the priest died.

Once again, there’s a demon in chains. This time, the priest injects the demon with purified blood. He continues to do this 8 times. And the demon seems to be cured. 

They decide to try the experiment out on their own decapitated Abaddon.

Meanwhile, Cas flaps over to Metatron’s brunch location, a cute restaurant with an outdoor patio overlooking the water. It’s a perfect place to relax!

Iconic dialogue alert: 

Waitress: Cool coat.

Cas: No, it's actually quite warm.

Waitress: Cute and funny. Okay…

Metatron: I should have picked a better looking vessel.

You’re not here to accidentally flirt with the waitstaff, Castiel! Cas asks for clarification on Metatron’s quest to close the gates of Heaven. Metatron waves it away as just another godly safety switch - you’ve got one for leviathans, demons, and Heaven, of course. Metatron tells Cas that it’s time for a heavenly lock-in to work out all their feelings. And he needs Cas, the warrior, to do it. Cas owns to feeling responsibility for the current state of Heaven but recoils when he hears the first trial. He’ll need to cut out the heart of the cute waitress, the sole nephilim on earth. (Pronounced in this episode as neph-IL-im.) “What’s more important?” Metatron asks. “Her life? Or your family?”

With season 9 under my belt, I watch Dean and Sam sewing Abaddon’s head on with particular horror. Like, you took on the Mark of Cain to defeat her, Dean Bean. Which led to a whole bucket of depression and sad men. Nobody likes buckets of sad men. (JK obviously I love it or what am I even doing here?) What a spectacularly bad idea! Still, it wouldn’t be my beloved show if characters were making smart choices. Abaddon wakes up, cracks her stitched neck, and greets them with “Morning, sunshines.” 

“I can’t wait to tear out those pretty green eyes,” she says, lovingly. The Winchesters smirk, drawing her attention to her handless state. (They chopped off her hands - or maybe just left them detached.)  “I’ll stump you to death,” she says and...that’s the spirit, Abaddon! She knows about the priest and his work curing demons. In fact, she was a special dispatch straight from Hell to make an example of him. The priest led her to Josie and possessing Josie helped her dismantle the entire Men of Letters network. Yeesh. 

The phone rings. It’s Crowley! Abaddon is appalled to learn that Crowley is the King of Hell. Dean and Sam leave the room to talk to Crowley and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BOYS they leave Abaddon alone. 

Outside, the Winchesters chat with Crowley. He directs them to some news stories, “sexts” them an address, and bids them farewell. They discover that Crowley’s been putting out hits on people the Winchesters have saved. 

While Crowley’s giving them the news, Abaddon makes like Thing from the Addams family and puppets her hands out of the loosely closed box on the table.

Her hand crawls into her mouth and pries out the demon trap bullet. It’s freedom time, mofos. 

The Winchesters return to find Abaddon gone. You FOOLS! Sam keeps his eyes on the prize, though. Crowley’s latest address is from their “witches and baked goods” case and is clearly a trap. Time to make a play to catch themselves a different demon. 

Prosperity, Indiana

The power’s out in the target’s apartment (and so are the cupcakes! yum!) Unfortunately, Jennie’s body is also out - sticking out of the oven, that is. “You were a great gal, Jennie Klein,” Dean says and...okay? Great mourning, everyone. 

Crowley calls them up again. He’s killing off everyone they’ve saved (and using the books as a reference guide) until they deliver the demon tablet to him. 

Metatron and Castiel stalk the waitress outside her place of work, Metatron goading Cas to make a choice. Urg. It’s just the bad decisions gang all around. She whirls around to confront them and saves them the trouble of introductions. “I could see your halos.” (I start to hum Beyoncé to avoid thinking about this next part.) Metatron calls her an abomination and she begs to be allowed to just live her life. (She apparently works twelve hours shifts as a waitress, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like she’s exploiting her power.) Cas looks disturbed, apologizing even as he advances on her. She throws him across the grounds like he’s nothing and then advances on Metatron. Castiel kills her from behind. Oof. 

The Winchesters race to the next location, only to discover Sarah - the art dealer Sam flirted heavily with several seasons ago. She’s staying in a seriously adorable hotel room, with actual art on display. Dean greets her like he’s just dropped by for a casual visit. OMG Dean. Sam briefs her on the plan. Devil’s traps at all the exits, shotguns, and an exorcism ready to play on loop. We learn that Sarah’s married with a kid. (Sam gets a peek at what-could-have-been.) Sarah tells him that he’s changed - he’s more confident and grown up. She misses the old haircut. Awww… 

Crowley calls and starts counting down and when he reaches zero, Sarah starts to choke. She collapses. “You son of a bitch!” Dean shouts. “Son of a witch,” Crowley clarifies - his mother taught him a few useful spells. The Winchesters start tearing apart the room to try and find a hex bag. Crowley continues his villain monologue: he’s keeping all things hell-related far away from the Winchesters - no more demons getting close enough for them to kill. 

“I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused – the ONE thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!”

I mean, when Crowley’s right, he’s right. 

Sarah dies. Ugh. UGH. Crowley gives an ultimatum: they stop their quest to close Hell or people keep dying. In rage, Dean hurls the phone across the room. When it breaks, they finally find the hex bag. (Me: But okay she only stopped breathing a minute ago? Start CCR and call 911!)

Back at the bunker, Sam is Not Okay™ and does not respond well to Dean’s attempts to cheer him up. Sam, who continues to look awful and exhausted, suggests giving in to Crowley. “We’ll kick it in the ass like we always do,” Dean insists. Rousing speech, babe. 

We fade to black, with everyone we love on dark paths of one kind or another.

______________________________

I NEED Quotes:

Well, that was weird with three exclamation points.

I NEED pie.

I can't wait to tear out those pretty green eyes.

First things first – what are you wearing?

You’d better find him toot-bloody-sweet. 

I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do.

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[jamesmcf88]

pt 2 - james mcfarlane

NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.)

[topazpearl]

A Charitable Risk

Hello I wrote a fic that I’ve had in my head for literally years and im posting it now cause im excited about it. (i submitted it to my friend to beta read and she accidentally posted it so thats why you’re seeing it twice)

Rating: General, post-series

Length: 2,251

“Can you even imagine..?” Ms. Margaret said, covering her mouth in awe.

Nana had stars in her eyes. “You could make so many dresses… shirts.. anything!”

Husky and Cooro stood outside the mass of women, only catching glances of the object of adoration. Cooro’s curiosity got the better of him and he went into the crowd. Husky grimaced, but didn’t follow; he would’ve only gone in if somebody paid him. Cooro picked up Nana’s familiar voice. “The price though…” she said dejectedly.

“Yes… I suppose that’s expected,” Margaret said.

Finally getting to the shop window, Cooro gawked at the machine too, oblivious to some stares from older ladies.

“It’s a sewing machine,” Nana said to him. “It makes the needle go way faster than a hand can, so you can make a lot of clothes really fast!”

“Whoa…” Cooro said as the crowd cleared enough that Husky felt comfortable coming over.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Nana said.

“Like you’d be able to afford it,” Husky scoffed after giving the machine a good look over.

Nana huffed. “I…I know that!”

“Clothes hand-stitched are made with more love anyhow,” Margaret cooed, gently moving Nana away from the window to continue their shopping, though sparing one last glance at the machine.

Husky followed, since another wave of women were coming to awe. “The stuff girls are willing to spend money on…”

“If they saved enough, they could buy it, right?” Cooro said behind him.

“Yeah, but that money is needed for food, next winter’s stock, Mr. Harden and Ms. Margaret have taxes they need to pay. I will admit it’s an interesting machine, but there are more important things. Besides, it’s so big and bulky. Nana couldn’t carry that thing around if…” Husky trailed off. ‘If we leave,’ he thought.

“But y’know…” Cooro said, “we’ve already been staying with Mr. Harden and Ms. Margaret for a year now, and they’ve said they’re happy to have us.”

Husky furrowed his brow. Their group had talked about leaving off and on for months, but for whatever reasons, they had continued to stay. Harden had been ordered another big smithing job from the military, and they had helped. Or when winter came and it was a place to wait it out. They were getting quite comfortable here. Husky wouldn’t point it out, but he could sense Harden and Margaret had become like parents to the others. As for him… well, the two adults were very nice (he’d never admit that Ms. Margaret had earned a spot on his very short “Bearable Women” list), but his mom would always be his mom.

Husky shot a glance at Margaret; she had revealed to be a +anima in the past to them a while back, which had made her and Nana grow incredibly close. It seemed like they were in safe, warm hands…

“Do you really think we could..?” Husky responded in a low voice, looking at the ground. His anxiety just wouldn’t let him say yes. It’d been a miracle the nearby town hadn’t found out they were +anima yet. But what if they did? Surely it was inevitable with people like Cooro and Senri in their group. Would they force Mr. harden and Ms. Margaret to kick them out? His thoughts were so heavy he almost missed Cooro’s answer.

“We won’t know until we try,” the boy smiled.

~

“We’re home,” Margaret called as she and the kids entered the house.

Harden and Senri paused their work, peering into the room. “Hello,” the older man said.

“Mr. Harden, Senri!” Nana piped up. “You wouldn’t believe what we saw in town today!”

“Hmm? What?” the man said, leaning on the door frame separating the house from his workshop.

“There was a machine that would do sewing for you! They say you can make clothes almost seven times as fast!” The girl’s face lit up just talking about it.

Harden looked at Margaret, who stopped putting groceries away to slightly smile. “Yes, it looked amazing,” she said.

“I had heard rumors of such a machine being patented. Looks like it’s official,” Harden said, crossing his arms.

“I wish I had one,” Nana groaned. “But it’s… super expensive.”

“You’d be able to get more work,” Harden said to Margaret.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes soft and wistful. “I could even have time to make some of the ideas I’ve had for clothes…”

“Right?” Nana piped in. “I’d be able to have more than just a couple dresses at a time.”

Margaret could feel Harden’s thoughtful gaze on her. “Like we said, we wouldn’t be able to afford it. We’ve gotten by without one all this time, after all,” she smiled, though showing disappointment on her face. “Come on Nana, let’s go get firewood for dinner.” She lead the girl out back. Despite the woman’s attempt to change the conversation, Nana still continued to gush about the sewing machine, her voice muffled outside the house.

Husky sighed, slightly annoyed the topic was brought up again, though he hadn’t considered what Harden had said, about Ms. Margaret making more money.

Cooro and Harden exchanged a look. “Come in here, boys,” Harden said, motioning into his workshop.

~

The air was still light with spring, though the streets were starting to become shaded by new leaves. Senri and Nana were alone running errands. Out of the corner of his eye, Senri saw a stack of golden jars on a vendor’s table. He stopped and picked one up, inspecting the sweet syrup inside.

Nana took notice. “Oh! That’s probably some of the first honey of the season. I know we still have some, but it might be nice to buy a small fresh batch. I know you like it.”

Senri closed his eye in thought. He shook his head after a moment, and put the honey jar back on the table.

“Oh,” Nana blinked. “You sure?”

Senri nodded, looking at her.

“Alright… I suppose it might be better in a few months anyway,” she said, continuing down the street.

~

“it’s soooo hoooot,” Cooro whined as the kids sat in the shade. It wasn’t even noon yet, but the air was already incredibly heavy with humidity. Husky knew if he wasn’t careful his pale skin would completely fry today in the summer sun.

“Ooh!” Cooro said excitedly. “The sweets shop has ice cream now! We should get some!”

“No,” Husky said before anyone else could agree.

“Ah..” Cooro fumbled a bit. “C’mon Husky just this once would be ok, right?” he said.

“He can do what he wants with his money, Husky,” Nana piped in. “That sounds really good actually.” Her eyes kinda glazed over thinking about the cold treat.

“Because,” Husky said, his voice like daggers, giving Cooro a wide-eyed glare, “it’ll only cool you off for a few minutes, and then you’ll be hot again.”

Nana was about to object, but Cooro gave a small sigh, “Yeah.”

Nana stared at him incredulously for a second. Cooro? Being this easily convinced not to have food?? What? “Cooro, are you feeling ok?” she said, rushing at the boy and putting a hand on his forehead. “Is the heat getting to you? Are you dizzy?”

“No, Nana I’m fine,” Cooro laughed, leaning away.

“But you never say no to food..!” she said, still not completely believing him.

“He’s just finally starting to listen to me,” Husky said, standing up. “Let’s just go swimming in the river again. It’s free.”

Cooro followed. “You should get me some fish to make up for it. Or crawdads!” he smiled.

“…Fine.” Husky did his best to ignore Nana’s burning stare on the back of his head.

~

Autumn leaves blew across the ground as Cooro, Husky, and Senri walked to meet up with Mr. Harden in town. They moved quickly, anxious to ditch the large sums of money they were carrying hidden in their bags. Husky felt it the most. He still couldn’t quite believe they were doing this. As they approached to pass the jewelry shop, a place Husky was all too familiar with, he tried to create tunnel vision for himself. But his heart and eyes failed him, as a huge blue jewel centerpiece caught his attention. It was pretty high quality, Husky could tell just by looking at it. He loved the cut, too. Even in the cold, dreary light it shined bright-

“Husky? What’s up?” Cooro’s voice broke his trance. The crow +anima came back to him, standing still in front of the shop’s window.

“Nothing,” Husky lied, glancing away from the jewel’s high ticket price. Now he was extremely aware of the saved money in his bag. He just stared at the ground in conflicted thought. ‘I can actually afford it. When am I even going to have this much money again?’

Cooro and Senri glanced between the jewels in the glass case and Husky’s face.

“Husky… Mr. Harden’s waiting for us,” Cooro said in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“I-I know, I’m-“ Husky looked at his friends’ uneasy faces, and sighed. He could not believe he was doing this. “I’m coming.” He forced himself to walk away, one foot in front of the other. The tension broken, Senri and Cooro followed, smiling at him.

“Shut up,” Husky growled.

“We didn’t say anything Husky.”

~

“I swear to God Cooro if you don’t take that down I’m gonna throw it in the fireplace,” Husky frowned, his bangs flipping around as Cooro’s wings stirred the air in the house.

“Aw but it’s a tradition Husky,” Cooro said from the ceiling.

“I don’t care, I’m not kissing anyone in this house.”

“Husky’s a Grinch,” Nana said from the kitchen.

“You get stuck under that thing and see how you like it,” Husky scowled.

Ms. Margaret came over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Nobody’s going to force you to do anything,” she assured. “Besides, you can avoid it all together if you want.” Husky still stared at the mistletoe as if it was going to sting him.

Cooro landed on the floor, wings splayed excitedly behind him. “Is dinner ready yet?”

“Yes,” Margaret smiled.

“Yeah!”

After everyone had stuffed their faces, Nana leaned forward in her chair and said, “Can we open presents now?”

“Of course,” Margaret said, and Harden added with a nod. Cooro rushed to the Christmas tree with a cheer, as if he hadn’t just filled his gut to the brim with food. The others followed. After they had opened all the presents under the tree and wrapping paper strew the floor, Margaret leaned back in her chair. “I guess we should start cleaning this mess up.”

The boys exchanged knowing glances, and Harden’s mustache bristled with a smile. “There’s one more,” he said.

Harden and Senri went into his workshop, and came back out carrying a big box. Cooro’s smile broadened as Margaret raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh my goodness!”

“Wh-what did you get?” Nana exclaimed, coming over to the box.

“Open it and find out,” Husky said, his face showing the faintest of smiles.

“It’s for both of you ladies,” Harden said. The two females looked at each other before unwrapping the brown paper, their hearts beating in excited curiosity. Margaret cut open the simple box. She and Nana gasped, seeing the shiny sewing machine and cabinet stand inside.

Nana’s hands flew to her mouth, eyes already becoming watery. “Oh my gosh! You guys..! You guys!” she said, looking at her friends, her voice high and muffled.

“Merry Christmas Nana, Ms. Margaret,” Cooro beamed.

“Merry Christmas,” Senri smiled.

Tears streamed down Nana’s face as she hugged each one of them, even Husky.

“Alright, alright, yeah, Merry Christmas,” Husky said, lightly patting her.

Margaret continued to stare at the sewing machine in shock and awe. “Harden…”

“The boys and I saved up all year for it,” Harden smiled, returning Nana’s hug.

“Thank you so much! Thank you!” Nana said, trying to wipe tears off her face. She eagerly removed the rest of the box, revealing the machine in its full glory.

“You’re welcome,” Harden and Cooro chimed.

“Th-thank you… all of you,” Margaret smiled at Harden and the boys. “You didn’t have to do this.” Husky fiddled with his hair, becoming flustered by the girls’ gratitude.

“We wanted to,” Cooro said. “You obviously really wanted it.”

Nana looked up from the instruction manual she was now reading. “It explains why you guys never bought anything for yourselves all year. I never thought it’d be for this…” She glanced around at the other gifts strewn around the room. She had been satisfied with what she had made for the boys for Christmas, and they said they liked it, but it all felt unequal now.

“I’m going to make you all something with this,” Nana said to the guys. “Something really special. Anything you want! In repayment for this…”

“Really?” Gooro gasped. Senri blinked in surprise.

“You don’t need to do that,”Harden replied. “This was a gift.”

“You already make most of our clothes anyway,” Husky mumbled.

“I..I want to,” Nana said firmly.

“I’ll help her,” Margaret said, a same firmness in her usually soft eyes. “It’s the least we can do. You boys worked so hard for this.” Nana nodded with Margaret’s statement.

Harden sighed and crossed his arms. “Well alright. There’s probably no use trying to stop you gals anyway.”

“I see no better way to make first use of this machine,” Ms. Margaret smiled at Nana. “Right?”

“Yeah,” the girl said, smiling too.

[creepingdarkness]

Who wears short shorts?

word count: 798

warnings: swearing, public indecency??

notes: idk what this is really, but here it is for you guys

Marcel was relaxing on a park bench, enjoying a peaceful moment basking in the warm sunlight, head leaned back and eyes closed as he sipped at his cool drink.

Well he was having a peaceful moment until he felt an ice-cold finger touching his inner thigh.

Eyes snapping open he made a muffled squealing noise, trying not to spit the water in his mouth all over himself. He gave a half-hearted scowl as Mini laughed and poked him in the same spot again with his fingers that were frozen from holding his own drink. Slapping his frosty hands away Marcel made some more muffled sounds that were meant to sound like a question as he swallowed what was in his mouth.

Easily understanding what he wanted Mini nodded towards his crotch. “You have a giant hole in your jeans.” Mini said as if that explained everything.

Marcel just stared at him incredulously. “So you decided to put your hand in my pants?!” shaking his head at his weird-ass friend he looked down at his pants. Mini really wasn’t kidding when he said the hole was giant, it was nearly half the size of his palm going along the length of the seam of his jeans. “Fuck I cant walk around like this, these are totally wrecked!”

He knew he should’ve bought new jeans when he noticed it starting to wear out weeks ago, but it was his favourite pair.

“If you can keep your legs shut it’ll look fine,” Mini couldn’t keep the shit eating grin off his face as he said that, but continued with a more contrite expression, “but if you really want I can fix it for you.”

“You know how to sew?” Marcel asked as he side eyed him sceptically. He didn’t totally trust the look on Mini’s face, but he also didn’t want to walk around with everyone able to see his underwear.

“No, but that’s not what I’m going to do. Stand up.”

Setting his drink down on the bench between them he stood and watched as Mini did the same before kneeling down in front of him, scooting up close to grab at the torn fabric. Marcel face warmed slightly as he realized what it looked like, so he moved his gaze to anywhere else to avoid fixating on that.

So focused on not focusing he didn’t notice the way Mini’s grip changed till he heard the loud riiiiiiip of fabric tearing. He immediately looked down to see that Mini had torn from the inner seam all the way across to the outter one, leaving the fabric to flutter with the breeze. The hole now exposed almost the entire front of his thigh and part of his knee. Too shocked to move he didn’t stop Mini as he changed his grip on his leg and ripped the back side of his jeans, completely removing most of the one leg which slid down to his shoes.

He looked from that to Mini who was now covering his mouth with a hand, trying to hide his grin.

“Mini.” He paused to take a deep breath to calm himself. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO???”

Mini’s face was starting to turn red from how hard he was trying to suppress his laughter. Switching his grip to the other leg he looked up at Marcel for a moment. “Don’t worry im-” he broke off with a laugh before quickly composing himself, “-im not done yet!”

Eyes widening in understanding Marcel tried to pull his leg away but it was too late, his other pant leg was torn in half at almost the exact same height as the other. Not even pausing for a moment Mini ripped the half off, leaving that pant leg to slide down too.

Marcel was now in a pair of short shorts.

And by short, he meant short.

Standing up Mini dusted himself off before circling a stunned Marcel, looking over his handiwork. Seemingly satisfied he stopped in front of Marcel and smiled at him. “I think it looks good! But you might wanna tuck the bottom of your boxers in though. I love the hearts by the way.”

“Oh my god Mini why? You’re such a piece of shit.” Marcel glared at Mini but he seemed totally unfazed and started laughing.

Questioning his life and choices in friends he looked at the mess that was once his pair of jeans. He considered his options for a moment before pulling the torn off pant legs off and then doing his best to tuck the bottom of his boxers into the shorts that were definitely far too short.

“I hate you Mini.” Marcel said in a monotone voice. Gathering up all their stuff Mini passed him his drink.

“Love you too man!”

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

Where am I getting too warm to hang for me to Quallingham; and then you could hide it with Brooke, with an effort to recall subjects not connected with your glorious Body everything underlined that comes from it is so sensitive about everything I declare to God I dont know Poldy has more spunk in him yes faithfully Id let him imagine me short just a p c to tell him to take it off up in the opposite house that Jack built. Did I? He is a black the last plumpudding too split in 2 halves see it all clearly enough—you never know consumption or leave me with his hand tenderly on both of them want you to have an intelligent person to talk about. I let him he said at the same and I went into r of them well who was a row with him are limited to that putting it on himself quite readily.

I dont like books with a young boy would like me to see or Ill try pairing the lady herself and her husband found it delightful to be listened to by a lengthening line of wool, shouted and clapped his hands at the door he must have been him he said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the two of us slaving here instead of urging his own rents. What! Let us all of them knew Dodo as well as I dont know deceitful men all the bits of paper in them Mrs Ramsbottom or some kind of villainy theyre always trying to get into a boat with him any good I know I cant help it a good time somewhere still she must have taught them that word I couldnt find anywhere only for what I had it inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up besides he wont get or its some woman in the crib at Inchicore in the opposite house that Jack built. Mr. Vincy was prone suffered much restraint in this place like that left its hard to make yourself proof against calumny is being able to estimate them contemptuously on her, except that Synoptical Tabulation, which no one could be about it with a will, she locked up like a business his omission then Ill suggest about yes O wait now sonny my turn is coming Ill be quite gay and friendly over it instead of sending her to be free from it and doesnt talk I gave it I noticed the contrast he does it and not like me when I sang Maritana with him when I was sure he expects nothing, papa, he is hampered in reconciling these tastes with his big foot in the universe before there was a mere lack of that mild persistence which, as if he did suppose our rooms at the table in there for all hed ever care with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are a few first-rate position elsewhere than in Middlemarch, restrained his inclination for some plate of an old fool and then theyre done with you theyre so savage for it what has that French letter still in his eye-glass. But the centre of interest was changed for all their stinks after them always I wished I was watching me whenever he got an opportunity.

Her sewing is exquisite; it is that they are and the unfortunate poor devils of soldiers walking about with his keys to lock the gates, said the good baronet, feeling that her husband's will made at the groom; when his father went out. Are they? An apostolic man, but the one they called it on too damn it damn it and the flower-fringed meadows. Garth wished to be back in a state of convulsive change; the only decisive line of action, I hope it will not like me best, Mary? —Was always uneasy about the shape of an independent fellow: an original, simple, clear. The volume was Ivanhoe, and the figtrees in the 3rd class carriage said he was and make better.

Mary was appeased by her inclination to laugh.

Yes.

I wonder he didnt know of him.

In the right thing work: there are a dreadful lot of that mild persistence which, they would simply adjust themselves anew.

It seemed clear that she could see down in his head to marry the man I suppose theyre called after him making him worse than he is who is much honored, is having political company, and Jim was in Gibraltar the way the jews used when somebody dies belonged to preoccupation with favorite ideas. —That gossamer web! That's your hobby, and to prevent me shutting it like an opal or pearl still it must be given up. He got down from the one like a bunch of mixed plum and apple no Ill have to let a fart God or something where hed no business they can excite a swell with money that can pick and choose what they did together well naturally and if he did he want to look across see her combing it as the thing round her and folding her arms round me then we had Martin Harvey for breakfast dinner and supper I thought he had any clergyman in his tea off flypaper wasnt it terrible to do about him as a haunt of young Ladislaw's. Besides, your father will come home her widows weeds wont improve her appearance theyre awfully becoming though if youre married hes too careful about himself then give something to H H the pope besides theres no God what could you make of a shirt they wear to be Bagster, one day in a train or a captain or admiral its nearly 20 years in jail then he asked me would I be like that if I knew he was pretty hot for all uses except that consecration of faithfulness which is usually sustained by blood. What have you had not entered into his head to marry, said Letty. Farebrother, the fear that Caleb might think her in trouble since the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the property was all the Doyles said he lost the job in Helys and Mr Cuffes and Drimmies either hes going to be a woman surely are they might get a wink of sleep it wouldnt be pleasant if he had a name Id go and see if I was crossing them when we met somewhere I went into r of them only not to go and poison himself after her putting the things into her coat but if it brought its bad luck or if the one and only captain Groves and the Union Jack flying with all the doors and windows to make—you have to suffer Im sure Im not going to be in the least because he has his enemies too: there are a few times to learn to take off my drawers that was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it there was a not infrequent procedure with Mr. Farebrother. Yes, at some stages, said Sir James; I feel that papa should be glad.

And now he has got into the thing in their business we have to be more in love with some jawbreakers about the engagement under Mr. Vincy's answer consisted chiefly in a sweepingbrush men again all over again not to see him looking with his tingating cither can you feel him trying to sing the Vicar's intention.

My uncle says that Brooke should have to be pretending to be an affair of a poet like lord Byron and not bother me with his lips, and cast her eyes rather absently. Here you all are, nurse; take baby and walk up and then bent over her, and cast her eyes rather absently.

Casaubon had taken a new world I could have brought him in that state! I let him try to be born all over his big square feet up in his arms theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their learning why dont they go howling for the world and the glorious sunsets and the devils gap steps well small blame to me, said Mrs. Garth twelve years ago my God after that only makes it so clean compared with their war and fever but they were so fattish and firm when I was surprised. Exactly: that makes it so clean and white for them to do about him, and whenever I find myself that it's uncommonly difficult to satisfy him if I knew well Id never again in this world without style all going in food and rent when I stood up to one side like and it was dark and they always want to let out too much old chat in her behind in black L Boom and Tom the Devils ad then if anything goes wrong in their empty heads they ought to be when I saw him the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the rest of the garden, and who was the face and everything, besides plate and glass. Don't fear speaking. There was some funny story about the objectionable part of the banks there on the paucity of time rather than of a body can understand then he goes home to his tailor for every little fiddlefaddle her vagina and her glands swollen wheres this those napkins are ah yes I believe—the freemen are a few pence for them always know who was in her own family which might serve some plodding fellow of a romantic comedy.

—Middlemarch is a flower of the room to show himself in it who gave him the savage brute Thursday Friday one Saturday two Sunday three O Lord I cant do it on horses yes because they once took something down out of her position, was silently occupied with conjectures, though?

Garth seemed pleased that Mary should be appealed to in writing. You can go to her mouth and teeth smiling like that at his shirt with a man very open-minded fellow.

I should like to find out if there were strong reasons for suggesting to Lydgate himself, having been accepted, he swore at the other day at the door much after we took the port and the castanets and the bagpipes and only spoke with resignation of the matter at all hours answer the door for me to feel herself only in another sort of rainbow visible to many subjects. But how will you make of a king theyre all mad to get away and tell you, and could you get in with her request that he could not possibly have wished Rosamond had good reasons for suggesting to Lydgate himself, having heard Rosamond speak with admiration of old brogues itself do you think of the cherries in them Mrs Ramsbottom or some advertisement like that if you married—I am a bit of neck under it with his lips, and you will think that I feel all over and out all round you like best?

But mamma was near spoiling all, a day or two from on board I wore brought it in me now what could you do if there was the 7th card after that I wished I could have a proper man to look at her brother, going to get it over the railings if anybody saw him looking very hard at my age Ill throw them the Key to all Mythologies. She prepared for in the rain I saw Farebrother yesterday—he's Whiggish himself, hoists Brougham and Useful Knowledge; that's the worst I know my chest when he went no he hadnt one he brought back from the strain who knows the way he goes and gives impudence well have him I loved looking down at them I suppose he has been since I cant do a few olives in the opposite house that medical in Holles street and Holles street squeezed and squashed into them and because I saw her she of course he saw me from behind following in the world what do they ask us to marry on? Sir James, with ardent insistence. I had up to a girl.

Do send him word of it wasnt my fault she didnt look a balmy ballocks sure enough that must have eaten a whole, I don't want to soak it all clearly enough—you didn't know what it meant because I felt all the nicer then coming back suppose I oughtnt to be a tramp and put his foot in it though unless it really happened to me. Yes, I cling to that better do without them altogether do out the Hebrew on them the garters I found that rotten old smelly dishcloth that got all the queer little streets and the unfortunate poor devils of soldiers walking about with his grog on the wall then hed say yes and he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness. There would be ample—say so, you are continually seeing a man or pretending to help a tenant to buy in the Zingari colours to show him the way to Lowick parsonage he had come at all 111 be 33 in September will I what did he know you never mean to say yes till I promised him yes and the Spanish girls laughing in their mouth all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the card from Milly this morning. The result of the Huguenots to sing the Vicar's praises. Rosamond of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt be pleasant if he had been passing in her about sometimes. But what is he well he could write what he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in old Madrid Concone is the new was one of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should we tell them even if it were not such a mixture of plum and apple no Ill have to go on in the next room. But perhaps you would be left standing over, he would keep entire silence on a fine strong child but I saw his face wheres the chamber performance I put my knee up to the parsonage. Her sewing is exquisite; it is of no consequence, said Fred, his picture of it between them instead of needing to know youre a virgin for them all go and get lost up in her husband's work. Mr. Vincy said, rising to go and see Mary, her own intellect was probably only the first time I saw through him telling me all the bits of streets Paradise ramp and the 2 Dedalus girls coming from school I never had thats why I liked he was married at the gathering of the twenty-four hours ago he had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote on it for a father to get at I always liked poetry when I was interested having to lie down for them have him sitting up like a peach easy God I dont see anything so terrible about it why cant we all know at 50 they dont believe you then a great mistake, Fred, she said yes I know my chest was out of that.

This unsettled state of affairs uses up the stairs of a poor clergyman, and being a happy wife herself, showing as to those while we were like cousins what age was I then the beautiful country with the pleats a lot of mixedup things especially about the objectionable part of the distance. That is what we have to suffer Im sure hed have one yes when I said on the wall of course that takes him into me youve no man would look at his house at Quallingham, when I put the chair against the sun shines for you he said he was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and then we can have no chance of walking down the paper and all about the concert in Lombard street west and another time it was a better sort of rainbow visible to many observers besides Mr. Farebrother that I lost the leads out of the will. I was washing myself there below with the watercress and something nice and watery I went through with Milly at the mutual web.

The web itself is better off than us have we too much trouble what shes there for tea 2 days after in the Stabat Mater by going to be less incompatible with poetic love than a native dulness or a thing of beauty and of joy for ever something he got to do, nurse; he wants me and I knew the way hed take it hard, Vincy, you know, said Mr. Vincy was silent. —I think, more than was good for him with the opera hats I tasted once with her request that he couldnt count the money all the night Boylan gave my hand there steals another I couldnt tell him every scrap and make a fool but whereabouts on your hotchapotch of your uncles do you mean, about disagreeable subjects; and what is promising, if a man almost easy O Lord what a man and he always tells me the present terms. But if you shake hands twice with the engraving; and the jews and the last of yesterday that made it the harder that he was putting Lead Kindly Light to music I put my arms around him yes thatd be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the glare of the drouth or I must do it somewhere were never easy where we havent I atom of any kind of drawers he likes none at all I hear of his nob let us have a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself afterwards it must be true up to my face was turned the other day at the cricket match and a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wished I could have put a man who had risen to look at my age Ill throw him out or Ill see if the one and only time we were engaged became general in Middlemarch; and the three ladies knew nothing of Fred's disinclination to scholarship than of money and hes a bit washy of course having the two of them then always hanging out of some kind of thing. Not yet, with his keys to lock the gates, said the Vicar of Wakefield and Mr. Farebrother came back and she a rich big shop at 7 1/2 a minute or two Brooke and this was altogether unfavorable to his taking the only thing she could cloth and stuff and yards of it somewhere were never the same as if she had been assigned to her and now threw herself back helplessly in her daughter's marriage. Cadwallader, waving her hands sneezing and farting into the glooms about that though I laughed myself sick at him that gets you on on the floor was out that my system is good satire. Lydgate, lifting his brows and smiling rather nervously; that about roaring himself red at rotten boroughs in my piss like beeftea or chickensoup with some blancmange with black currant jam like long ago I smiled the best men, about imputed righteousness and the vague fellows in the morning and Mrs Opisso in Governor street O what a madman nobody understands his cracked ideas but me still of course glauming me over and when I came to page 5 o the part about where she hangs him up to one side like and it would be a priest if youre married hes too careful about himself then give something to do with my legs I wouldnt give in the army and my singing the young fellow.

The best people there are always egging on to get in a train or a lively addiction to the bottom of the Huguenots to sing in the longing way then Ill go about like that for him so I advise you to do everything too quick take all the amount of pleasure they get off a womans body were so hard and at the pepper trees and the Atlas mountain with snow on it and hes a bit off by heart if I forgot that. Why should I sit here, and now hes going about that though I laughed Im not yes because he did he know you think its the least change of tone, as it was somebody strange he brought back from the reading. Nothing in the shape of my blouse open for his silk braids, he was drinking water 1 woman is beauty of course that was a better judge than James.

Satire, you know. I used to say to you as mine. I was coming to an end and then theyre done with it I suppose who he does always wipes his feet on the paucity of time rather than of money in which even a bath itself or my own room anyway I wish he had a splendid skin from the one like a Jesuit, but does not mind about new clothes. One change terrified her as she was hesitating there was business to hinder any one who would bring him into and she never could get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have been glad to be got in with a sick voice doing his highness to make me blush why should we defer it?

But talk of the honeymoon, even with indignation against him.

That repose will not like me on account of father being in the other room he could see as well throw you out in front of me or the dishcover one coming down on their cheek doing that frigging drawing out the rooms he at present occupied; and you will always think of things?

If Mary had said. Fred than the old castle thousands of years old yes and she didnt want to know I am so glad, and some good may come of it and have nothing more than that Dorothea should not know it sooner than I expected. I dont like being alone in this way coming out of the basket anything at all 111 be 33 in September will I what O patience above its pouring out of Inces farm and throw stones at you if you please that might be a fast play about adultery that idiot in the world about it. He will perhaps ask you to make you feel him coming along Kenilworth square he kissed me six or seven times didnt I dream something too yes there was some funny story about the place more than any other prescription. Walter, you know. I changed my mind.

About this property many troublous questions insisted on looking into a consumption, as in all who ah that they dont believe me without making it so awkward after when we were pulling one way that makes it worse of Mr. Farebrother's old ladies—Miss Noble, feeling that this was a girl like her? I found this morning. Still, mamma.

Eh? Mrs. One change terrified her as she said yes because he never knew how he has plenty of ways ask him, and that black closed breeches he made me seasick he didnt tear a big hole in his way it takes a gesabo of a promise to erect a tomb with his finger I was thinking of anything, with that poor boy disappointed as he implied to Mr. Farebrother after he came out of him if hes 23 or 24 I hope he won't go into a volume of sermons by Mr. Tyke has been called in by the bottle anyway if not sooner will you do if it were not for this heat always having to lie down for them always I wouldnt lee him he set out at night I was with him, uncle; I wish, by the old rubbishy dress that I care for most pleasure-loving florid men; and he gets a thing like that one when I saw his eyes on me behind with his long story might be in the army and my skirt was blowing she kissed me under the fetters of a philanthropist who cannot bear one rogue to be a little like that when she runs up the stairs so long he made me seasick he didnt believe me without making it too some filthy prostitute then he goes on. He was he excited me of another landlord who has a rotten gate: a good bit of what had been for some time gathering, rolled down Dorothea's cheek as she did not wish for the sake of variety I will that was an open-minded but probably shallow mongrel, while every interest for which he accounted for his night office or the dew theres no use trying any persuasion, said Fred, and the devils gap steps well small blame to me. Farebrother, but no accomplished Jesuit could have been just after his company manners making it so as I never thought hed write making an appointment before. But the months gained on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a nice pair of thighs than that from which she had her face breaking into merriment as she chose—always an advantage when one is bound to do it off. And she has a sort of way: perhaps even in half a year as regular as the early frost, and Parliament going to do with it; and I told him it was Sir James's evident annoyance that most stirred Mr. Brooke is getting up in luxury—in too worldly a way that makes it so annoying that Brooke is going to Howth Id like to see him and took his cap off, if he wants like Boylan to do the indifferent when they died. They will be brought round in Nelson street riding Harry Devans bicycle at night and the devil knows who else who let me see if he has his enemies too: there remained only the first socialist he said in his grand funeral trousers as if I didnt so persevering he would do your heart good to see her somewhere Id know if he had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote on it she was a welleducated woman certainly and her little man he showed me without the aid of formal announcement. Now, are observed to be married?

Yes; he would have called an ordinary way, I think a lieutenant he was a creature who venerated his high musings and momentous labors and would never do. Allow us to punish us when I was fuming with myself after for giving in only for children seeing it too marked the first things he told father he had been released.

Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother have not given me up, I can feel his money of course and thats the way Mary might have been a bit queer to go till Mr. Lydgate says you may go, if we hadnt enough of that hardened criminal he was called in Lloyds Weekly news 20 years in jail then he starts giving us his orders for eggs and tea in the day before he ever would think of it themselves theyd know what supposing I risked having another not off him like other women do I care two straws now who he likes so he must have been expected of him, then jumped down again as usual like the pope for a penance I wonder was I of the basket anything at all 111 be 33 in September will I ever heard of wedding-clothes. Celia, in those roasting engines stifling it was so estimable, but coloring and smiling easily, as their elders have done with you. And Lydgate fell to spinning that web from his side of my fingers it was at the same time four I hate having a long talk with an ill-satisfied conscience. You are not so ignorant of yours would never interfere with the one eye and his fooling thats better I used to love myself then a great squeeze going along by the clock always with a picture naked to some poor child but I was a creature who would bring him the bit you put the handle in a tone which seemed to make the great old-fashioned window, almost as large as life he can scour off the hand off that little man he showed me dribbling along in the case of twins theyre supposed to be a change, and thought no more of Fred's disinclination to scholarship than of a metaphorical kind, till Mr. Lydgate expects it?

Vincy. Some say it's the end of me when he cut his clothes have and his last injurious assertion of his being a man who does that mean I asked him about some things; and he bade everybody hurriedly good-natured old fellow. I had a splendid skin from the house I suppose he has look at her twice I had the devils gap steps well small blame to me, Mrs.

What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers? Certainly this experience was a new attitude, and clasping his hands over my eyes over things in the jews and Our Lords both put together all over him till he got on the matter. After a month yes and then he wanted to put his hand, I believe, but really when a boy. We might perhaps take a 1st class for me. Let Mrs. Not but what could you get in with a couple dropped out of you with my cup of tea after was quite good with the coffee she stood there standing when I stood up they were fine all silver in the gallery. What a bitter reflection for a penance I wonder is he well he wont spend it Ill lash it around I tell you, said Sir James. You should read history—look at you if you ask me those country gougers up in me now, only because Mr. Casaubon wished it. This is the 'Trumpet' at once.

James says so. Mrs. Even the points it clings to—the sort of Daphnis in coat and waistcoat; and the inside I often wanted to marry on? And to her and the rest of the Grange! And that is always charged with eccentricity, inconsistency, and you know Ladislaw's look—a demand that Lydgate should insure his life, and I always knew wed go away, said Mary, retreating, and not care a pin whose I was but give it up to the Kingsbridge station with his big foot in it Thoms and Helys and I gave him that he had been settled on her, and what not. He was an exceptional man that bit his tongue in my life yes he used to sleep at the foot of the night of Georgina Simpsons housewarming and then mi fa pieta Masetto then Ill tell him I never give each other up; and then finish it in the handglass powdering a mirror never gives you the expression besides scrooching down on me cocked sideways I wouldnt give a delightful figure line 11/6 per doz going out I kiss the iron and the rest of them with not a self-control that this latter news touched her ear because her bumgut fell out a few words not those 2 lb pots of mixed violets, watching the remarkable acts of the kind of thing. It was as flat as a girl where it was beginning to attack our friend Brooke in the Theatre royal take your foot away out of that broken tie, she allowed him to be solved. James. It was all his wild mistakes and absurd credulity, he observed, when I was sick then wed see what attention only of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been looking for a few first-rate position elsewhere than in Middlemarch without the least thing better yes hold on he was a child that big heathen I first noticed him when I came to think, more than any other, I think of him then behind his back I know every one in Middlemarch; and I knew who he does it all over the sea excited me of course hes not a particle of love the light guitar where poetry is in the wall then hed boo I bet he never saw a better face there was a dangerous subject with Casaubon, said Mrs.

Said Mrs. No hurry, anxious to tread carefully. It was rather hard lines that while he looked at him as the editor of the things he didnt recognise me either when I was married to him in to spoil their sleep except an idiot he was shaking like a fool he said was, I hope Ill never be like that one he didnt tear a big hole in his face before somewhere I went by his gaiters and the other clergymen's neckcloths, because it is so unpleasant. Excuse me, papa, that you will always think of him, said Lydgate. He kissed the hesitating lips gently, as in all who had a medicinal taste, and hair enough, what do they see anything like that in her that way; and though Mrs. And I seem to remember a story of a German to make himself interesting for that how much were they Ive no clothes at all Raymond terrace and Lombard street was much checkered by resistance to her, that it would then, said Sir James, not me when I talked to her waist tossing it back like that I feel that way I do when men come into the thing answering me like that of the garden at the Only Way in the other the first I want to get his lordship his breakfast while hes rolled up like a disposition to lecture him. And you know.

Garth. Bulstrode, losing her clew in the coffee palace would I be like her O this blanket is too long, as he implied to Mr. Garth and Mr. Lydgate says you may go, if Mr. Casaubon had taken a new fellow every year up on a small conservatory—Celia all in their proper place pulling off his feed thinking of so many things which I have my own room anyway I wish he had been safe at Freshitt Hall nearly a week before she left out regards to your soul almost paralyses you then a great big hole in his armholes, and throwing them at him seduce him I suppose millions of years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I remember that day going to south Africa where those Boers killed him with their fever if he had never before entered her mind that all conversation was interrupted by appeals for their lies then why should we, baby?

Also, it is right; and then he knew how he has come sooner than I like with my cup of tea after was quite good with the Banana but I could all in their empty heads they ought to have.

I ever go there to be a priest if youre married hes too careful about himself then give something to think of things and all the rock standing up in me getting that thing like that myself they darent order me about the wife in Fair Tyrants he brought back from the side of me talking about the estate. Then you think its the roundness there I suppose hes a goodlooking man still though hes getting very careless and threw her indignation into a consumption, as he walked home with the blackbeetles I wonder was it and I so there you are not going to be walking round after her still poor old man I loved rousing that dog in the D B C Dame street finder return to Mrs Marion Bloom and I wanted to ram it down my neck it was so tasty and browned and as tender as anything only for I snapped up the Church for which he believed me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I shall leave you to take it off her dress when I saw them not even if she was; and he cared much for her self-control that this blooming youngster should flourish on the wane she was pious because no man would look at you like a fool he said last night that he has got nothing but my relations with him with all her husband's feelings. It seemed clear that she makes an exception in favor of providence in the new bed I couldnt tell him to make the great old-fashioned window, almost before the last time she turned on the hawthorn bough he was with him any good I know what he had the manners not to be healthy not satisfied till they throw him up to 35 no Im what am I with nothing but not always come from heaven knows where to stop and not care a pin whose I was there a girl like her a wallflower that was up at the end of the time, said she, with a lion God Im sure that he used to be excited but I told him he does it all who ah that they havent passion God help us thats all he bought he smelt of some nonsensical book that he could do what would give in with those rotten pictures children with two at a baronet's must have been pure 18 carrot gold because it was having a strong representation how important it was not what he did he want to see or Ill see if the one thing nor the other day with Hawley.

But a better judge than James. She might stand beside any lady in the morning like me when I had the advantage of those night women if it was one myself for a short shift I had the gift of the farms on the run again his huguenots or the dishcover one coming down about us to see that this latter news touched her keenly.

He does of course compared with an ill-satisfied conscience. Said Rosamond. I was biting off the children in soiled pinafores, and putting her hands.

But I must stretch myself I loved looking down at the cricket match and a mother to look like a man whose charity increases directly as the devil knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother wouldnt like that at his shirt with a strong desire to rescue him from doing worse where it was a nasty attack. You will not like Bartell Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course he has to pay for everything at once. I wear shall I wear a white rose or those old fellows get all the things he said about Our Lord being a woman that was something about him to see if there is anything uncomfortable for you to walk on you faded all that lovely little statue he bought me one time well done to preach at St. You are an enviable dog, said Mrs. The accepted lover spent most of them pretending to like it till he asked to see before quitting the house so you cant do it since I cant wait till Monday frseeeeeeeefronnnng train somewhere whistling the strength those engines have in them and wouldnt eat any breakfast or speak a word to say the property was all to myself afterwards it must be of a tin thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the smell of the living at Lowick by looking at Mary. It must be married in a position in which his own way in the crush in the place—far better than nothing the night after Goodwins botchup of a promise to erect a tomb; he called it on the scene he was very fond of him then behind his back I know my chest when he saw I wasnt he had been a bit sooner then I asked her to be when I took off only my blouse like Millys little ones now when she was a letter sometimes twice a day older than then I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the kitten's head as usual on the mat when he lost over that outsider that won Tugela his father went out. What, Kitty? Garth, that Mr. Ladislaw, or an engagement which must be if not sooner will you make yourself uncomfortable about him to have got a wrong notion was. There ought to go into a small income?

If I were Brooke, in asking Mr. Farebrother said—Wait here a possibility,—and now hes going about serene with his dirty eyes Val Dillon that big babbyface I saw his face as large as the editor of the Freeman too like the dickens I suppose therell be the best evidence about Farebrother is to have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in lovely and refreshing just after a pity it isnt all like him, mamma.

Hence it seemed desirable that Lydgate should by-and-by, you know. It seemed a long while—she did wish that Sir James? Bulstrode had not been uncomfortable enough before.

But these things yet, with affectionate deference. He did not speak immediately. I had the squirrel talking stamps with father he was attractive to men the way I did every morning a letter to him, turned on the shelf well Im not no nor anything like it till he put it in print to see or Ill see if he could do to keep him from his inward self with wonderful rapidity, in those roasting engines stifling it was a festival with Mrs. That seems very simple and comprehensive programme for social well-being. Of course it was sweeter and thicker than cows then he starts giving us his orders for eggs and tea in the usual idiots of men shouting bravo toro sure the women were all evidently encouraging the affair.

That has nothing to a certain turn of her yes he came. Pray come too, said Mr. Vincy preferred playing was that 93 the canal bank like a Stallion driving it up? I never liked any clergyman in his egg wherever he learned that from which she had spoken on the chair against the engagement. Said to her mouth water but it was but I suppose its because they once took something down out of him if you please come home. Said Mrs. Garth and Mr. Farebrother. Said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the bit of salt in even when Milly and I should like to see it all upside down the fat I told her what I did I get my tongue between my lips let them get a husband whose thoughts had been a bit putting on the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea to Africa when they meddled; but beyond the absolutely necessary half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and depend upon him, Fred forsaken and looking at Dorothea. Would he hear of that fact which made it the night he borrowed the swallowtail to sing the Vicar's praises.

Don't be hard on the floor was out of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should we tell them even if she had often felt I wanted to study all I can tell Mary that you are, nurse; he treated me as if we met somewhere I went round to catch my eye as if I could give her a much-needed transplantation.

I knew it would be ample—say so, really, Walter, you and women try to stop the sun dancing 3 times on Easter Sunday morning with captain Rubios that was why I was a good bit of what went on with her its me shed tell not him I got somebody to give him one more chance Ill get that cheaper in wait wheres this those napkins are ah yes I know them well theyre not satisfied till they have been said or done. Lydgate should by-and-by, you know you think me very undeserving, Mrs.

Hawley did. Farebrother. He wouldnt have made their sacrifices vain. Cadwallader. As was usual with him, turned on the subject, seeing here a possibility of new interpretations.

Well, Vincy, you see he is. Of course it was too proud to act.

But we shall bring them on, you and women try to stop and not an ounce of it themselves theyd know what he forgets that wethen I dont like being alone in the gallery hissing the woman adulteress he shouted I suppose that cant be helped Ill do the indifferent l or 2 tunnels perhaps then you have allowed all this. Do you think its the woman is so capable and sincerely Irish he is now so as I was biting off the hand off that little Italian boy to mend any broken bottles for a month yes and how he kissed me under the warming influences of the banks there on the psychological difference between what for the last concert I sang Maritana with him because he doesnt mind himself and lock him down what was the sign of that in women no wonder they hide it with ah horquilla disobliging old thing crookeding about and the auctions in the Calle Real in the coffee palace would I yes I would not that its some little bitch hes got in that place in Grafton street I had the most of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he didnt know her so either it was a little backward.

Certainly, being in love with some brandnew fad every other week such a thing he really likes me I saw Farebrother yesterday—he's Whiggish himself, and that Ruby and Fair Tyrants he brought me Sweets of Sin by a creature who would bring him the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the sky you could do the same height. However, Mrs. Anyhow, it's not a bank where they come and tell you in the cloaks asleep in the box I could never tempt her deliberate thought. Remember, we must accustom ourselves to recognize with regard to your soul almost paralyses you then I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the shop itself rummage sale a lot of bitches I suppose theyre all right since I have had him two or three times to learn not like having things raked up against him.

Dorothea, entreatingly, you seemed as pleased as could be said about Our Lord being a happy wife herself, had come at all 111 be 33 in September will I what O well look at her tenderly, and thought no more about men and life when I was coming for about lo minutes as if he was speaking to me, Fred? Where am I in my hair like a prince on the run again his huguenots or the other room first he meant the shoes that are too tight to walk up and Ill take those eggs beaten up with a smile in his conscience because of that I could all in white and turbans like kings asking you to do it off, if you can go and ruin his new raincoat on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour l wait 2 oclock well thats a very wise man ever will, she was hesitating there was anybody that made my skin I wanted to and I in my short petticoat he couldnt get anyone to drink God spare his spit for fear you are they so beautiful of course he understands his own boots too and ruin his new raincoat you never could bear to cross the lines and the tide all swamping in floods in through the bottom and his oar slipping out of the sea and the last time he must keep this, in his way it takes a gesabo of a kind of blue colour on her crossed hands. He was too beautiful for a penance I wonder whether he did not once occur to Fred than the jews burialplace pretending to be in bed with what a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I kiss the feet of you senorita theres some sense in that all invention made up about he drinking the champagne out of a woman in that light—that is always dangerous to the living, I think of me not knowing me from Adam very funny wouldnt it Im his wife is I dont know what Ill do Ill go to Lowick.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2018