#that tan skin and straight hair and pretty face

[solarisfortuneia]

a heavily edited repost from my old writing acc (i could've done so so much better but i gave up after staring at it for thirty minutes lmao but hey, i like it better than i did the first time. that's something, right?)

ft. figure skater kaeya and ice skating <3

“y’know, kaeya, considering the fact i’m a disaster on the ice, i feel like these skating sessions aren’t too bad.” 

“you are a disaster, and not just on the ice,” he agrees, and a hand gently cradles your face. “i’ve seen you hit your head on a lamp post right in front of you while walking on solid ground.”  

“you’re supposed to say i’m graceful, dammit.”

“oh?” his eye twinkles with barely concealed mirth, and the corners of his lips curl up into a fond smile. without warning, he pulls on your cheek, and his smile widens to a grin as you glare at his actions. he lets go with a laugh.  “my apologies, then, graceful one. please, do show me what you can do.” he makes a show of stepping aside, gesturing to the ice. 

you step inside the rink, fairly confident in your ability to at least stay upright.

kaeya’s taught you quite a bit over the past week, ever since you asked him to teach you properly. you're no match for a figure skater, obviously, but you’ve got this, at least as far as skating straight on the ice goes.

kaeya breezes by you, twirling and spinning from the minute he enters. his long hair is braided, fringe pulled back, forehead exposed for once. sunflower earrings dangle brightly from his earlobes— a gift you picked out for him on his birthday. the bright yellow stands out beautifully against his tanned skin and navy hair. 

he gains momentum, then leaps into the air, twirling with incredible grace and landing in a graceful arc.

“show off,” you huff. he sends you a wink and a flying kiss at your words. curse him and his professional figure skating training.

you turn away to concentrate on your own movements, and a bulb slowly lights up in your head. 

you’ve seen him do tricks like that multiple times; why couldn’t you attempt a simple spin yourself?

choosing what you think is an appropriate starting point, you skate in a straight line, picking up speed and building up momentum similar to what you’ve seen kaeya do before trying to do a little spin on the ice. 

in your very delusional mind’s eye, you visualize yourself performing it perfectly. though, contrary to your expectations, you do not twirl like a figure skater. you do not twirl with grace and precision.

oh, no, no, no.

you crash into the railing like an undignified bird learning to fly. 

you groan in pain, slumping down, your back flat on the ice. the cold seeps through your thick jacket, but you cannot be bothered to get up. your head throbs, and you’re pretty sure you’ll wake up to a bruise waving hello in the morning. 

barely a moment passes before he’s by your side. “my love, who told you to do that?” he asks, his usually humorous tone as serious as you’ve ever heard it.  his concerned gaze runs over you once, twice, thrice, brows knitted in worry. he checks for bruises, for sprains, and for fractures with practiced swiftness. his fingers grip your face gently, before easing you into a sitting up position. 

“—and with such horrible form too,” he tuts playfully, after he’s deemed you alright. 

you swat at him. heat rushes to your cheeks and you bury your face in his shoulder. he laughs, far too loudly than what the situation called for, prying you from his chest so he could look you in the eyes.

“this is why spins like that are better attempted when one has experience, darling.” he kisses the tip of your nose. 

you groan in response. “i wanted to try it, okay? don’t tease me.”

“okay, okay, i won’t,” he holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “if it’s any consolation, at least this was much, much better than your first attempt.” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist, and hoisting you to your feet. “you lasted a whole twenty minutes before crashing. well done, love.”

you swat at him again.

[indigobackfire]

It's ridiculous how they get this right but Alanza actually looks like the girls that star in Brazilian soap operas

[thefreakandthehair]

apollo, who?

prompt: beach day | pairing: steddie | wc: 1.5k | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie munson pov, athletic steve, post-canon fix it, pining, reciprocated crushes | written for @pearynice for the @strangerthingswritersguild April Fools exchange! 💕☀️🌊

There are three absolute truths when it comes to Steve Harrington: 

The first is that Steve is a gifted athlete. 

The second is that Steve was born to thrive in the summertime. 

And the third, much to Eddie Munson’s chagrin and horror, is that the combination of the first two truths will be his undoing. In public, no less, because the universe has apparently concocted a plan to let Eddie live but to make him suffer nonetheless. 

Unloading the van had been easy enough— Steve grabbing the cooler stacked to the brim with soda, water, and snacks and Eddie watching as he’d trekked through the sand to where Robin and Nancy set up their chairs and beach umbrella. Most of the kids were long gone already, staking their claim with blankets and towels a few feet away from Robin and Nancy, leaving Eddie to snag the sunblock he’s basically been made to swear a blood oath to Wayne that he’ll apply generously over his scars. 

He leans back over the passenger seat to grab it from the center console, along with his walkman and sunglasses, and when he turns back around, he stops dead. 

Steve’s shirtless.

In the span of ten seconds, Steve’s already shirtless on the beach, nothing but swim trunks hanging from his hips, and Eddie realizes he’s underestimated how fucking beautiful this sight might be. 

The edge of Lake Michigan laps at the rippled sands as Steve reels back and tosses a football that Eddie’s pretty sure materialized out of nowhere to Lucas a few yards down the shore. All of his freckles and moles and scars out on full display, the sun beats down on his tanned skin and uncharacteristically messy hair that Eddie’s watched slowly morph from chestnut to ash brown over the course of the season. 

As Eddie applies his stupid sunblock, he lets himself stare unnoticed. Lucas throws what Eddie assumes is a good pass if Steve’s celebratory, “Great spiral!” means anything and when he puts on his sunglasses, it’s more to shield the blinding light of Steve’s smile than the sun. Maybe it’s cliche, maybe it’s overdone and contrived, but Eddie can’t stop himself from comparing Steve to a Greek fucking God. 

Apollo, who? 

El appears next to Steve and Eddie continues to watch— about three layers of sunblock in at this point because he’s lost track— as Steve demonstrates something. Holding the football in one hand, he points at the laces and seems to check in with El for understanding before handing it over to her and adjusting her grip slightly. When she attempts to throw it to Lucas, it falls short and lands in the sand just a few feet away from where she and Steve stand. 

Eddie’s chest fucking swells as Steve trots over to grab it and simply hands it to her again, smile in place to counteract El’s pout. Three or four tries later, the ball flies straight enough for Lucas to catch it and Jesus H. Christ, Steve cheers like she scored a touchdown, or whatever the fuck it’s called. 

He can’t leave the side of the van. If he makes his way down to the beach, it’ll be all over for him. He’ll have to hide in the water the entire time, and now there’s too much sunblock on his face to blame the inevitable flush on sunburn. It’s fine, he can hang back. Everyone looks preoccupied anyways and with any luck, no one will notice he’s not enjoying the surf and sand with everyone else until it’s time to leave— 

“Eddie!” 

Right, he thinks to himself. I have no luck. 

Steve waves at him to come join, turning that sunshine smile directly at him and it’s a direct hit. Apparently, even on the opposite side of the sands, he’s still a goner. 

“Eddie! C’mon, what’re you waiting for?” He calls out again, both hands resting on his hips. 

It does nothing to quell his urge to stare at places friends aren’t supposed to stare at. As far as he knows, the only person to have picked up on his unfortunate crush is Nancy, who’d seemed to understand the importance of discretion and hasn’t said a word. If he can leave this beach day with his secret intact, he’ll chalk it up as a success. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” 

With a deep breath, he locks and slams the passenger door to the van and walks out onto the hot sand, barefoot with his sneakers in one hand, SPF 70 in the other, and sunglasses hung over his nose. Distantly, he recognizes the grittiness of the sand beneath his toes and the earthy scent of the freshwater stretching out for miles in front of him but more acutely, he just keeps his eyes on Steve. 

Please let these glasses be tinted, he thinks. 

“Finally, what the hell were you doing up there?” Steve asks when he makes it down the narrow path lines with tall grass. 

“Aw, did you miss me, Big Boy?” Eddie drones with a smirk. If he just acts normal, no one will know the difference. It’s not like Steve ever flirts back—

“And if I did?” 

He hasn't planned for that response. All he’s prepared for is a gentle eye roll, maybe a flustered laugh or furrowed brow, and now Steve’s shirtless, sun-baked, sweat dripping from his temple and suggesting he missed him. 

What the fuck. 

“Heads-up!” Lucas yells and Steve turns just in time to take two steps backward and catch the football coming in their direction. 

There’s no way for Lucas to have known he’d just saved Eddie from something horrendously embarrassing, but he’ll find a way to thank him all the same. 

“Ever throw a football?” Steve holds the oblong ball in one hand, wiggling it at shoulder height with a grin. “I taught El how to throw a spiral, so I think I can teach you, too.” 

Okay, actually, he’s still being subjected to something humiliating. 

“Sports have never really been my—”

“Don’t start with that, c’mere. It’s easy.” Steve gestures with a nod of his head for Eddie to join him further out on the beach and like a satellite to its orbit, he follows. 

It takes way more attempts than it did El— something Max was all too quick to point out loudly— but he does eventually throw something that Steve considers a spiral. Maybe it would’ve taken fewer tries if Steve hadn’t insisted on standing directly behind him, adjusting his stance and grip with his chest damn near pressed against Eddie’s back. 

Of all the unfair cards life has dealt him, this has to be the worst. More than once, he makes eye contact with Nancy who raises an eyebrow and smirks before returning her attention to whatever she and Robin are talking about. 

Probably him. Him and Steve and his dumb, dumb, dumb crush that’s ruining his life. It’s fine. 

When he finally throws the ball at an acceptable angle, Steve claps him on the shoulder and stands next to him, effectively draping an arm over both shoulders. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He swallows and turns, breath catching his throat. All of the sun has brought Steve’s freckles to the forefront, a shade darker than usual with new tiny pinpricks of color appearing along his nose with a faint pink hue along his cheekbones. 

If they weren’t in public, he’d do something very, very stupid. Instead, he clears his throat subtly and finds words. 

“Sure, yeah, I’m a regular sports guy now, Steve. Guess I’ve gotta find something to teach you, huh? Y’know, return the favor?” 

“I’ve always wanted to learn guitar. You can show me the basics some time. Or uh,” Steve grins and lowers his voice. “I’m sure there are some other things we can learn together.” 

Eddie’s fully lost track of how many times he’s been caught off-guard so far today, but this one takes the cake. Steve’s fucking flirting with him. Actually flirting with him. Beating him over the goddamn head with it, really. 

“Yeah! Yeah, uh, yeah,” he repeats, smooth. “To both, I mean. Yeah, to both.” 

Steve squeezes his shoulder and unravels his arm with a hopeful expression. 

“We’ll talk more when we aren’t surrounded by nosy shits, especially those two,” Steve nods at Robin and Nancy who wave with their fingers. “In the meantime, race you to the water?” 

“What is it with you jocks?”

He barely has time to get the question out before Steve takes off, plunging into the water a solid foot before Eddie even reaches the shore. 

“That’s cheating, Harrington!” He bellows, running through the sand to join him, heart thundering between his ribs and head still spinning from what just happened. 

“Sounds like what I’d expect from someone who just lost,” Steve shoots back, taking a breath and submerging himself before popping back up. 

Hair slicked back with the freshwater of Lake Michigan, Eddie watches as Steve runs both hands through it, then down his face and back into the lake. Water droplets glisten off his skin and Eddie wades a little closer, finding Steve’s hands once they’re submerged enough to disguise it. 

“Oh, contraire,” Eddie muses. “I feel like I just won.”

[donatellawritings]

rafe x latina!reader who backs it up on him teeheheheee

i’m blushing :3

obnoxiously loud trap music blared through the speakers of topper’s house, the intense vibration of the bass, coupled with the multiple shots of tequila you’d taken earlier tantalizing you as your every inhibition ceased to exist in this very moment. your smudged and glossy mouth expanded into a drunken grin as you rolled your lace miniskirt-clad hips, your french manicured nails cascading over your the swells of your perky breasts, tracing the lining of your matching lace bandeau top, its hem neatly wedged underneath the plump curve of your boobs. a tipsy giggle left your lips as you grabbed ahold of kiara’s hand, swaying your hips side to side as you beckoned for her to dance with you.

your cousin had solely accompanied you with the intent to keep a watchful eye over you, she didn’t miss how rafe had kept his bright blue eyes on yours throughout the duration of the night — he’d been the one to invite you to the party, eager to see just how you let loose after your initial introduction just a few weeks prior. much to kiara’s distaste, you had accepted rafe’s invitation with a cheesy smile, of course flaunting your body in the skimpiest outfit you could find. you loved having an excuse to show yourself off like the doll you were, your face painted in glittery and smoky makeup, your wispy eyelashes perfectly curled, blown-out hair perfectly tousled, and swollen lips glossed in dior.

a dramatic gasp escaped your lips as the music continued to vibrate through the speakers, your doe eyes widened in excitement, “kie, s’my favorite song,” you slurred for about the tenth time in an hour, pulling your lips into a pout as you cousin forced a tight-lipped smile at you, “why don’t y’wanna dance with me?” you whined, dismissively rolling your eyes at kie as she parted her lips to spew a lame excuse. your glazed over eyes widened as a cool hand rested firmly against the exposed small of your back, a dopey smile pulling on your glossy lips as rafe came into your hazy line of vision.

flashing his million dollar smile at you, rafe kept the palm of his hand against your warm skin, leaving you a blushy and tipsy mess as he acknowledge kie’s presence with a curt nod of his head, before returning his attention to you as he tapped his ringed finger against your lower back, “what’s wrong, princess — a pretty girl like you, shouldn’t be pouting at a party,” he teased, bringing his bottle of beer to his pink lips as you bit down into the fat of your bottom lip with a coy shrug. rafe’s hand smoothly slid to rest on the curve of your hip as his staggering height leaned in closer to you, his warm breath hitting the shell of your ear, “y’can dance with me, if you want to, mama,” he spoke, loud enough the cut through the music, but low enough for only you to hear.

nodding your head, you rested your small hand on rafe’s flexed arm as you leaned up on the tips of your toes, “only if you let me finish that,” you pointed to his quarter-filled bottle, eager to fill yourself with some more liquid courage as rafe glanced at his bottle, a smirk playing on his lips as he nodded in agreeance, swallowing thickly, his tanned neck adorned by his gold chain that peeked from underneath the collar of his t-shirt.

suddenly, rafe’s hand gently grabbed ahold of your jaw as he angled your head back, a flustered sigh leaving his lips at the sight of you wet and inviting mouth, “stand still, a’ight?” he huffed, his lips parting as he poured the remaining beer from his bottle, straight into your mouth, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip as you held onto his waist, a victorious chuckle escaping your throat as you swallowed down the bitterly frigid liquid. “y’took that shit like a pro,” he praised, a dopey grin painted on his handsomely structured face as you brought your tipsy gaze to meet his, your glossy lips now shining from the stray drips of beer.

swinging an arm around the back of your neck, rafe pulled you in close, his lowly hung eyes meeting kiara’s displeased gaze as you stumbled into his side, “m’gonna take her to dance — i got her tonight,” he decided, craning his neck back to search your eyes for any signs of displeasure, his chest burning with pride as you wordlessly nodded, before excitedly grabbing his large hand and dragging him away from your strictly unamused cousin.

“i love you, kie — besitos!” you called out, quickly mouthing a ‘sorry’ to your cousin before dragging rafe to the nearest corner you could find, your bright eyes widening as you found a dark and secluded corner in the back of topper’s living room.

it only took a few seconds for rafe to spin you so that he leaned against the wall, his long legs spread as he snaked his toned arms around your front, pulling you flush against him. your eager pussy ached at the feeling of his bulge pressed against your ass, the thin lace material of your skirt failing to properly conceal you. this is what it feels like by banks began to hum through the speakers, a content hum vibrating through your supple lips as you slowly rolled your hips to match the rhythm of the song, your nose exhaling a content sigh as you rolled your hips harder against rafe’s clothed-erection.

“shit,” rafe sighs, running a hand over his shaven face as he watches the plush curve of your ass rub perfectly against the thick tip of his achingly hard cock. so much so, that he’d pulled up his shirt, exposing his hard stomach as he held the hem of his shirt between his sharp teeth. “y’so fuckin’ pretty,” he huffs, biting down into the fabric as you rolled your hips just a bit faster, a mischievous smile playing on your smeared and swollen mouth as you leaned the back of your head against rafe’s shoulder, pressing your ass harder against him.

if you continued this, rafe knew that he’d pathetically cum in his pants, placing his heavy hand on your hip in a failed effort to at least, pause your movements. “m’gonna cum, if you keep doin’ that,” he warned, his voice strained as he allowed the hem of his shirt to fall from between his teeth. rafe’s stomach tightened as you looked up at him through your wispy lashes, a bit back moan leaving your lips as you pressed firmly against rafe’s strained cock. shaking his head, rafe flipped the two of you, pushing you up against the wall, mushing his lips against yours in a greedy and sloppy kiss.

“been watchin’ you shake your little ass all night, mama,” he moaned, his breathing heavy as you hiked one of your legs around his waist, your acrylic nails scratching at the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. rafe mindlessly rolled his hips into yours, his sensitive tip aching at the friction as you bit down into his bottom lip with a throaty moan.

there was a damaged part of you that got off on knowing that you were about to make rafe cameron cum right in his pants. yet, you couldn’t deny the delicious friction that came with his clothed cock pressing right against your wet panty-covered pussy. “keep going, papi, please,” you moaned, swallowing as rafe’s tongue slid flat against yours, his hand now cradling the back of your head as he pressed his forehead to yours, both of you still engrossed in your messy kiss as rafe rolls his hips into yours a few more times, letting out a strained moan into your mouth as you lowered your now jellylike leg.

rafe continued the kiss for a few more seconds as he came down from his high, his blown pupils meeting yours as the two of you shared a knowing laugh. “did me calling you papi, make you cum?” you asked sweetly, your bright eyes wide with anticipation as rafe playfully mushed your cheeks together with one hand, adjusting the hem of your ridden up skirt with the other.

“just don’t call anyone else that, y’understand?” he spoke sternly, thankful for the dark environment of topper’s house as he grabbed ahold of your waist, placing you to stand directly in front of him, concealing the sticky mess he’d left on the fabric of his khakis.

with a blushing smile, you nodded compliantly, “understood, papi.”

now donning a prideful smirk, rafe nods to himself, “m’gonna take you home with me,” he decided, his tone firm as you wordlessly agreed, rubbing your small hand against the warm and sticky patch that darkened rafe’s pants with a shit-eating grin on your face.

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair. 

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute. 

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning. 

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?” 

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic. 

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.” 

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫ 

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten

In which an unfortunate turn of events leads to Azriel forgetting his very pregnant mate.

Words: 2541

A/N - Hi everyone, this is my first foray into publishing work online and like everyone else I am preparing for CC3 by re-reading all of SJM's work. I've been inspired by all the lovely Azriel/Reader pieces I've seen on tumblr as of late and have decided to contribute my own.

Part Two ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Heavy waves of unconsciousness threatened to drag Azriel further, deeper into the abyss. The roaring in his ears drowned out rational thought. Tongue dragging against the roof of his dry mouth he reached out for something to anchor him, carting his hands through silk sheets. His skin burned.

“Azriel?” Elain’s sweet voice floated through the darkness. Azriel fought against the fatigue to open his eyes. The brightness strained and he tried to focus. Light filtered through the window, highlighting beautiful features and the golden hues of her hair. She leaned forward, taking a pitcher of water from the bedside table to fill a glass, holding it up to his lips so he could drink. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth in gratitude and he worked his dry lips around the rim. One hand came up to support the glass, holding it over Elain’s own, an excuse to feel her smooth sun-kissed skin.

He hadn’t seen her since the disaster of the almost kiss and his words, ‘this was a mistake’, had haunted him endlessly in his sleepless nights. The regret hadn’t stopped the images that plagued him. How she would look underneath him, or riding him, the faces she’d make as he brought her pleasure, the sweet songs she’d sing for him as she climaxed. Even Rhy’s warning hadn’t been able to tame the desire he felt for the middle Archeron sister; in his half delirious state he was content to take advantage of the closeness the opportunity offered. His eyes roamed her face, following the tantalizingly exposed skin of her neck down to where the bust of her pale pink gown hid her breasts from his view.

Satiated, he pulled his head away and managed to croak out a small word of thanks. Elain’s brows furrowed as she searched his face for something, finding it lacking.

“We’ve all been so worried about you.” Azriel frowned, finding it difficult to care about anything other than admiring her beauty in the light provided by the rising sun. He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and traced the delicate bones of her wrist under his fingers where his large hand still dwarfed hers. She pulled back, placing the glass on the bedside table and he felt words of protest trying to break free. Come back he thought, his appetite to feel more of her supple skin under his own ignited.

Contentment rose in him as she leaned closer once more, this time placing the back of her hand against his forehead. Perspiration clung between their skin; Azriel resisted closing his eyes and basking in the warmth erupting in his chest. Memories of his mother flooded back, in a daze he felt himself being carried through the few times in his childhood when she’d been able to care for him as he had yearned for. This position brought Elain even closer to him, affording him a delightful view of what lay beneath the top of her dress with a downward cast of his eyes. He soaked in where the tan from her time in the gardens morphed into untouched alabaster and ruminated on how it would taste under his tongue.

“You’re still burning up, I’ll send for Madja.”

“No,” he reached to grasp her hand as she pulled back. “Stay.”

 Elain worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she fixed her rich chestnut eyes on his face. Azriel couldn’t draw his gaze away from how the baby-soft skin looked trapped under her incisor, imagining how it would feel under his own. He watched as her eyes lost focus, she seemed to stare straight through him. He knew the look; could recognise the blankness imposed by communicating with daemati. Which meant that Rhys would be coming soon.

He sighed, perturbed by the impending interruption. He reached for his shadows, hoping that they would at least give him some advanced warning but found them missing. Frowning he tried to sit forward, tearing his eyes from Elain’s face he scanned the room. His room, at the House of Wind. All the times he'd dreamed of her in here with him, what they would do, he'd never quite imagined it like this.

“What happened?” He still clutched at Elain’s hand but lowered it to rest against his thighs. His chest was exposed, naked and flushed with fever. The muscles in his wings protested as he moved to unfurl them slightly and he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. Such a small motion, but it brought the catalogue of pain to the forefront of his mind through the haze.

The dark silk sheets pooled at his waist and rubbed against the stark whiteness of clean cotton bandages. He could feel where the membranes connecting the sinewy muscle and delicate bones of his wings pulled tighter in places over almost healed wounds. The room smelt of antiseptic; underneath his own scent was stale as though he hadn’t stayed there in a long time.

“I don’t know all of the details, you’ll have to speak to Rhys and Feyre.” Elain seemed to falter under the intensity of his gaze. “You arrived a few nights ago, winnowed to the River House poisoned and half-dead. Madja’s been working on you for days.”

"You've been here all this time?"

He leaned closer to her, his chest warming at the thought that perhaps he hadn't destroyed this, not like everything else he seemed to touch. Elain was frozen under his graze, eyes wide and lips parted. He drew closer, inhaling the scent of jasmine and honey, unable to resist her magnetism.

"Oh." She started and moved back in her chair, putting distance between him and his advances. "No, I arrived about half an hour ago. Y/N needed to get some rest." Her face seemed to implore him to do something and his thoughts were drawn to the failed kiss at solstice. Perhaps this was a gift from the mother Azriel reasoned. An opportunity to do everything over.

His eyes fixed on hers and an unfamiliar sensation bloomed in his chest. Azriel frowned as he felt a tug, it seemed to come from inside his ribcage. He brought his free hand, the one that was still clutching at Elain's, to rub at the skin over his heart. Confused he trailed his eyes down Elain's face to look at the skin his scarred fingers danced over.

He started as he saw it, the thread of pure gold. He reached in a tugged, feeling the answering wave of love and relief. If Azriel felt like he was drowning earlier it was nothing compared to the joy and elation that threatened to swallow him whole. His eyes burned as tears brimmed.

"Elain," he breathed. "I can't believe..." He trailed off, fixing her with a gaze of awe. If he wasn't still suffering from the lingering sluggishness perhaps he would have taken more stock of her confused stare. His hand stilled against his chest and he continued to stare at her. Whatever permission he was looking for, he thought he found in her gaze.

He reached up to caress her neck, following the delicate arch upwards to tangle his long fingers into her curls. His other hand dropped hers to cradle her cheek.

"Azriel." Elain tried to move back further in her chair to escape his wandering hands but found no further retreat against the back of the hardwood. Azriel followed her, shifting forward on the bed so only a few inches separated their faces. His breath mingled with hers.

Taking a deep breath he closed the distance between their lips, fire pooling in his gut with anticipation of finally getting to taste her like he had dreamed of. Claiming her full bottom lip between his own he revelled in the sweetness of her mouth. He pressed harder, her soft lips yielding against his own as he moved to deepen the kiss by tracing his tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Elain softened in his arms and her fisted hands moved up to rest against his bare chest, not pulling him close but not pushing him away either.

He pulled back slightly, her doe-eyes meeting his firey gaze as he smiled contently at her. His left hand was tangled in the roots of her hair exposing the delicate skin of her ear which he moved to trace with his nose. His breath grazed the supple skin of her neck and his lips danced over the skin of her neck.

"Azriel, wait." Elain seemed to be roused by his actions, opening her hands to press her palms against the plain of his chest. He paused his movement against her throat, inhaling more of her scent deeply as he began to pull back.

"Azriel?"

The voice was unfamiliar, husky and choked, holding back emotion. Hurt bloomed through Azriel's chest and it startled him away from Elain. Anger rose within him at this stranger's interruption, at the hurt they'd caused Elain. Elain who was his mate. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl, driven by instinct. His eyes moved towards the doorway. He felt naked, at a disadvantage without the shadows that had followed him for most of his life, always whispering, always alerting him to the movement of others.

His eyes fixed on the feminine figure in the doorway, taking a cursory gaze over the long golden hair that pooled to her shoulders. She wore night court attire, loose-fitting dark trousers, and a thin-strapped top that hugged the top of her form and flowed out over the obvious swell of her abdomen. The trousers cut off at the calves and a swirl of shadows danced around her feet. Azriel started. They were his shadows.

Elain jumped to her feet, the wooden chair pulled up beside the bed hit the carpeted floor with a thud as she made to move away from Azriel. His hands moved to grab her, to pull her behind him as he struggled to his feet, to protect her from this thief that had infiltrated his home.

"Y/N...This isn't...We weren't, it was..."Elain trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for how to continue. Azriel, now upright but still unsteady, staggered forward a few steps to place himself in between the stranger and Elain.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Elain obviously knew this woman. His mind spun, thoughts still heavy from the lingering fever as he tried to piece the information together. He gestured at the floor, a signal for his shadows to return. Some of them peeled away from winding up the calves of this stranger and slithered towards him across the floor. He took comfort in the familiar cool trail left as they crawled up his legs and chest, curling around his ear to report to him.

Safe, they whispered. Safe as you instructed. Azriel frowned, clearly they were mistaken. He fixed his eyes on the female again, drawn to her face. Chartreuse eyes, lined with tears and framed with long lashes and dark charcoal, stared back at him. They weren't fae he realised, they possessed the otherworldly quality he'd only seen when looking at Amren. There was a deep sense of other about this female that heightened his feelings of unease, coupled with the rogue shadows that flaunted his command and stayed at her feet like loyal guard dogs Azriel automatically grazed his thigh looking for the reassurance of the heavy weight of truth-teller. He found none.

Elain was speaking again, trying to move forward past him, and this time he successfully caught her arm, gently angling her away from the infiltrator to shield her with his body once more. The female's gaze moved from his face to fix where his hand remained on Elain's bicep, rucking up the delicate pale pink fabric as he gripped it with his scarred fingers. Her eyes widened more, Azriel studied as her pouted bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to spill down her face. She took a step back from where she stood in the open doorway, retreating into the hallway. Azriel was torn between the instinct to follow, to press the advantage he'd unwittingly gained and staying to protect Elain.

Elain who was violently shrugged herself out of his grip, whirling to face him her face filled with anger he'd never seen on her delicate features before.

"What in the cauldron are you doing?" Elain's teeth were bared, her chestnut eyes blazed as she gestured at him widely as she continued. "Have you lost your mind?"

Azriel, surprised at her sudden anger, felt a deep sense of unease that he'd misjudged the situation somehow. His mind whirled, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was so used to having the upper hand, having all the information, that without it he was lost for words. Elain continued to back away from him and his eyes darted from her to the doorway which now stood empty, no signs of the mysterious female remained. Azriel's eyes fixed again on Elain's face as they stared at each other. He tugged at the cord in his chest, hoping to receive a response, some kind of assurance that he hadn't imagined it.

A deep sense of betrayal coursed back through the bond, anger mingled with hurt, the sensation was so strong that it almost brought Azriel to his knees. As quickly as the sensation came it stopped, the thread no longer sung and Azriel tried to follow it to the source. A source, he realised flinching, that didn't end with Elain but seemed to trail off and lead elsewhere.

The clap as a pair of powerful wings moved through the air was the only warning as seconds later Rhys landed on the balcony. The doors flew open on a wave of darkness as he sauntered into the room, violet eyes scanning the scene. A dark brow crooked as he took in Elain's rage and his brother half-naked, still flush with fever his shadows swirling in agitation.

"What happened? Azriel, should you be out of bed? Where's Madja?" He addressed his brother first, but his eyes drifted to Elain as he cocked his head for the answer to the second question. Elain took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself, before closing her eyes - an obvious invitation, she wanted to show Rhys. Azriel decided that she could show him whatever she wanted. The more pressing issue, the unknown female, would have to take priority over whatever punishment the High Lord wanted to concoct over Azriel's blatant disregard for his orders.

"Rhys, the stranger - you have to find her. I don't know how she got in. I woke without my shadows and they were with her, she took them."

Rhy's eyes moved between him and Elain as he seemed to piece together the course of events. He took a step forward, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as Azriel bristled.

"Az." His voice was low, comforting, like he was trying to soothe a cornered predator. "Everything is okay, why don't you take a seat. Feyre's on her way, I think we need to talk."

A/N I'm hoping to start working on Part 2 asap but not sure how long it will take, I have so many ideas for this and committing to them is so hard

[hyuburt]

I think Fantasy High would look good animated in the total drama style since they’re both chalk full of chaotic sweaty teenage energy. Here are the bad kids on their first day of school

[ID: Two images of the same lineup of characters, with the top one being the colored version and the lower one being the line art. They depict the six main characters from D20′s Fantasy High from tallest to smallest; Gorgug, Fabian, Kristen, Adaine, Fig, and Riz. They are all drawn and colored mostly in line with canon, with some slight variations to accommodate the total drama style. Gorgug’s eyes were stylized into two white dots with slight bags underneath, and he is standing upright with his hands nervously brought up to his chest with a slightly timid expression on his face. His hoodie is a slightly de-saturated purple with grey sweatpants and purple sneakers. He has dark green skin and black wavy hair that falls above one eye. His wobbly, down-turned mouth has a tusk poking out of the higher side (he normally has two, it’s just the way his expression was drawn made it so only one was visible.) His face shape and nose are rounded to give him a softer appearance and there are two little lines indicating the beginning of teenage stubble on his chin. Next to him on the right is Fabian, who stands with his arms crossed and his head turned haughtily to the right, a smug expression on his face. He is wearing his red owlbear jacket with white sleeves, greyish brown loose workout pants, a black undershirt, and red sneakers. He has brown skin and swept back white hair that is shaved on the sides. His nose slopes downwards and he has two eyelashes under both eyes to denote that he is a fancy, pretty boy. He is drawn with a strong, square jawline and a build that is both muscular yet nimble.To his right is Kristen who has a stocky, more rounded build and is wearing a rainbow tie dye shirt with a simplified corn logo in the center, denim shorts, green flip flops, and a rainbow bracelet. She has curly orange hair that curls around her round face, light tan skin with freckles, bushy orange eyebrows, an upturned nose, and dark green eyes that are upturned in a smile. To her right is Adaine, who is slouched slightly with her arms crossed and an unhappy expression on her face as she looks off to the ground. She is wearing blue circular glasses over her round blue eyes, her blue two-piece hudol uniform, knee-high grey socks, and black mary jane shoes. She has light brown skin and short, straight blonde hair swept back from the front of her face in a widow’s peak. She has a small, pointy nose and a circular face with a small pointy chin. Above her is a version of her face without her glasses. To her right is Fig, who is standing proudly with one hand on her hip and the other in a finger gun. She has light reddish skin and brown hair in a braid that has a bright purple streak in her bands and at the end of her braid like it was dipped in paint. She has a long, pointy face and a slightly hooked nose. Her eyes are a dark pomegranate color and slightly upturned. She is wearing purple lipstick, a short leather jacket with a cropped grey shirt underneath it that has a picture of a horned skull on it, a black choker, fingerless gloves on both hands, a plaid skirt and belt with black leggings underneath, dark brown boots, and a single fishnet coming up to her calf on her right leg. To her right is Riz, who is holding a magnifying glass up to his face with one eye squinted to see through it and his other hand on his hip. A single fang peeks through the corner of his small smile. He has a green tail that swishes in front of him. He is wearing his signature brown cap and two piece suit with mauve pants, vest, and tie. His skin is light green with freckles under his eyes, his eyes are light greenish-yellow with slits for pupils, and his hair is dark green and swept back under his cap. Above him is a version of his head without his cap, showing that his hair is swept back from the front and curls away from his face, giving him a windswept appearance.]

[ravens-two]

PAC: What Does Your Future Spouse Look Like?

This reading includes:

your FS's general physical traits

your FS's vibes & celebrities with similar vibes

The extended reading includes:

your FS's fashion style

your first impression of your FS 

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Houdini - Dua Lipa

Five of Cups, Ten of Pentacles, Two of Pentacles

Pile 1, the first thing I notice in your person is their eyes. It's not necessarily about the color - although it could be that they're a particularly pretty color - but more that they are very expressive. It also seems that for most of you, this person has really big eyes. Perhaps round or almond shaped too. Think something like Al Pacino, Cate Blanchett, Liv Tyler, Kurt Cobain or Adrien Brody for example. They can convey a lot of emotion with just their eyes. I also see that some of them have crow's feet when they smile too, which is really endearing honestly.

Another thing that I pick up from your person is that they seem to have a vaguely sad vibe to them. Do you know that meme "my poor little meow meow"? Their vibe is a bit similar in a way. They just look like they're sad and you have the urge to take care of them. Again, think a bit about someone like Kurt Cobain or Adrien Brody.

When it comes to their body they're tall or, at least, they give the impression of being tall and broad. Especially for men, they have broad shoulders even if they aren't muscled or chubby. For the women I also think that they tend to have broad shoulders and a narrower waist, but their most prominent feature seems to be their chest. They may have big boobs or they tend to use clothes that emphasize their boobs. I think that even for the men, their chest is quite prominent.

When it comes to vibes it's mostly what I've already said your person has this "please love me" vibe. Despite this, they're capable of commanding attention and they tend to look quite elegant. It may be that they have a lot of pisces placements or a pisces rising. In general, I think that they're attractive, but not like conventionally attractive or Hollywood attractive if that makes sense.

I also think that your person shows themself differently to different people. With you they may feel more comfortable to be a "poor little meow meow" while with others they're more closed off and may even appear a bit cold. I just heard that they have a poker face, so with other people they may completely close off and be hard to read.

(extended reading here)

Pile 2

Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft. SZA

Six of Wands, Page of Wands, Eight of Swords

Hi, pile 2, your FS is the type of person that gets other people's attention. They are very conventionally attractive (I feel like especially when it comes to their face), but they don't really see themselves life this. In fact, I think that they're quite insecure about their appearance. This almost feels like body dysmorphia honestly (and for some of you it could be related to them being trans, while for others it could be related to an eating disorder). The reality is that they can't see themselves the way other people see them.

They have really thick and luscious hair - it reminds me a bit of Carlos Sainz or Ben Barnes for the men - and most likely it's either wavy or straight. For most of you they have rather long hair, the men tend to have up to shoulder length hair, while for the women it can come down to their waist. When it comes to color, most likely it's dark, but for some of you it could be bleached.

Most of them seem to have tanned or dark skin, this isn't really about skin color, if they have black skin for example, it's really dark. For the people with lighter-skin they have a tendency to blush a lot or get flushed (especially after drinking). They also have really pretty teeth, probably very straight or they just look endearing, and a pretty mouth too. Despite having a pretty mouth not all of them have thick lips, it's more about the shape of their mouth. I feel like they tend to smile a lot. It kind of reminds me of Julia Roberts a bit who is known for her smile.

Some celebrities that have similar vibes to them are Carlos Sainz, Julia Roberts, Anok Yai, Adut Akech, Dominik Szoboszlai and Michael B. Jordan. 

When it comes to their vibes they seem to be youthful and always in their own world. It's almost like they aren't really paying attention to what's going on around them. They also seem to be a bit introverted or closed-off in public, despite all the eyes that they attract. If surrounded by friends they may be a bit more open and might be cracking up jokes with them. No matter what they seem to be really nice and will always give a small smile to other people, like the waiter at the restaurant for example.

(extended reading here)

Pile 3

The Shadow of Your Smile - Nancy Sinatra

Four of Pentacles, King of Swords rx, Ace of Pentacles

Pile 3, your person doesn't seem to be very tall. They're either medium height or actually small. It may also be that their vertical line is short even if they are in fact on the taller side they seem shorter than they really are. But, the most noticeable thing about them is that they seem to always have a serious expression on their face - some of them even have a resting bitch face. I think that they have very expressive eyebrows, they may even move them without meaning to. You'll be able to tell what they think by their eyebrows. Like, they may have look super serious almost as if they're upset but by their eyebrows you can actually tell that they're just relaxed. Speaking of their eyebrows they also seem to be very full or bushy. I don't think that there's a monobrow here, but it could also be the case.

When it comes to their face your FS has really strong facial features, especially their jaw and nose. The jaw reminds me a bit of Angelina Jolie for the women and for the men it seems to be a bit of a mix between Timothée Chalamet and Henry Cavill. For some it's more square while for others it's sharper. The noses here tend to be either aquiline or roman, but either way they're also quite prominent. Think a bit Gisele Bundchen, Jenny Slate or Alba Flores for example, or Hrithik Roshan and Dev Patel.

I don't know how to explain it but they also have a very earthy vibe, like tanned skin, freckles, calloused hands, it's like they just came back from working in the garden, if that makes sense. They also have brown or black hair, and the men tend to have beards (nothing too big though). They also have super clear and healthy looking skin.

Besides the eyebrows I also think that they have really noticeable hands. Their hands may be big or just very pretty in general, they may be veiny too. Their nails are healthy and well kept, and they probably have long and thick fingers. The way they move their hands may also be very attractive, like their gestures or just by being very dextrous with their hands. When it comes to their body they tend to be thicker or chubbier, I'm seeing like amazing and really thick thighs for both men and women. I also feel like your FS exercises a lot or they move a lot because of their work and so they tend to be chubby with a lot of muscle underneath.

In general, I think that their vibe is just very chill. They have a "don't fuck with me" vibe, but they're just doing their own thing and don't really want anyone to bother them. They also seem to be very hard-workers and earthy as I said, like down-to-earth too. These aren't people with delusions of grandeur.

(extended reading here)

Pile 4

Crazy - Aerosmith

Lovers rx, Empress rx, Knight of Cups

Pile 4, this is my androgynous and gender non-conforming pile. If you're familiar with the Kibbe body types or essences, these people would be the Ethereal or Angelic essence. Do you know the Lord of the Rings elves? Yeah, basically that's the vibe. Their features are delicate and they can look a bit otherworldly. Think of Tilda Swinton, Willow Smith, Halle Bailey or Lisa Bonnet. For the men you have again Lee Pace and Orlando Bloom as elves, but also Eddie Redmayne, Cillian Murphy, Jared Leto and Ethan Torchio. For me, Ethan Torchio from Maneskin is the best example for men here. He embodies the facial features and hair that makes him look quite androgynous, and also a bold and avant-garde style.

In general, your person tends to look a bit flirty or mischievous. Again, they have this elf or fairy vibe to them. They tend to look playful and approachable. This isn't the type of person you'd be afraid of talking to, they just seem super nice and open. 

No matter the skin color your person also tends to be pale, this is more their complexion really. Some of them may look a bit like vampires think Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in Interview with a Vampire. They also have clear skin and the men tend not to have beards. When it comes to hair it tends to be long, especially for the men. For the women, I actually think that they may tend to have shorter hair or even a shaved head.

Their faces are beautiful, but not really conventionally attractive. They have something otherworldly about them that just pulls you to them. They may also have asymmetrical faces, especially when it comes to the eyes or jaw. Also, speaking of eyes they have really intense eyes. The type that seems that they can look right through you. Besides pile 1, this is the pile that seems like they may have light eyes.

When it comes to their body shape they are leaner instead of muscly or thick. They may have muscle definition, but they're just lean and maybe a bit lanky. They seem like they have a high vertical line or they're tall. In general though, they're just long. They have long legs, long arms, even long fingers.

(extended reading here)

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[healmyhrt]

ANGST MATT. Matt gets jealous. BOOM. THATS ALL I HAVE JELOUD MATT AND ANGST. YUHHHH !!!! DO WHATEVER YOU WILL WITH YHE STORY WE JUSR NEED ANGST😍😍😍😍

⌗ jealous, m. sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you get lost at a party, and another guy gets the wrong idea. your anxiety getting the best of you, you quickly leave the room to find matt, only for him to get jealous at what just happened.

disclaimers!: angst, kissing, use of y/n

a/n: this sucks

i had lost matt in crowds of people, and i was pretty tempted to just find a random ride home, but i wasn’t in the mood to possibly get killed tonight.

my phone chimes, and i squint at the screen, in hopes to get a better look at it. there was a text from matt that read, “where’d you go? im dying to get out of here, not rlly that fun anymore.”

that makes two of us.

i click the call button on his contact, and hear the phone begin to ring, and then stop. i quickly look at my screen, only to see a low battery symbol. “fuck!” i yell, making people near me give a confused look.

i run into a random room, and see a bunch of people getting high. i begin moving back towards the door, when a hand grabs my wrist. “stay a little, baby. what do you have to lose?”

i look back at the boy. he looked about my age, he had tan skin, brown eyes, and long, messy, brown hair that went to his shoulders. he manspreads in front of me, and i nervously sit on his lap.

no one really pays me a bit of mind, and just goes back to getting high. the boy hands me a gummy, and gives me a smile. i take it into my palm, slowly.

“how much?” i ask. he laughs in response, and hands me the bag. i read the text, and my eyes widen. “1500?!”

he places a hand on my shoulder, and shares a sweet smile. “don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” i nervously look back at the table, and everyone’s staring at me.

the boy under me, slowly moves his hand closer and closer to my inner thigh. im practically sweating my face off, as my anxiety gets the better of me.

i jump up off of the boys lap, and run out of the door. i hit someone’s chest, and look up to see matt. “oh, thank god!” i squeeze him tightly, and he hugs me back uncomfortably.

“hey, come back, baby.” the boy in the room says, laughing. matt raises an eyebrow at him, and i grasp his wrists, making him follow behind me.

“y/n, what the fuck was that? who is he?”

i keep pushing through crowds of people, until we make it outside. we’re almost to the car, when matt lets his wrists become free of me. “y/n, stop.”

i stand still for a moment, and turn around, staring at the pavement. “what was that? are you okay?”

matt walks closer to me, and slowly places his hand in mine. i grasp his hand tighter, interlocking our fingers. i look up, and softly press my lips against his.

matt pulls away quickly, and looks down at me. he gently grips my jaw, and makes me look directly at him.

“who was he?” he asks, enunciating every word.

i grab his wrist, and slowly remove his hand from my jaw, smiling. “jealous?” i turn around, and continue walking to the car. matt follows behind me, and i can almost hear the anger in his voice as he tries to remain calm.

“no…” he starts, “i mean, i shouldn’t be jealous, you aren’t even mine.” he tugs on his bottom lip.

i stop at the car, and begin to walk over to my side.

i lean against the car door, and matt stands in front of me, towering over me. “what’s that you said at the party last week?” i tease, “i own you?” i smile, mimicking his voice.

he places one arm against the car, next to my shoulder. matt leans in closer to me, eyes staring at my lips.

“fine.”

he stands up straight again, sighing. i move out of the way, and he opens the door for me.

the drive back is quiet, but had been broken many times by matt dramatically sighing.

“what?” i finally say, as we stop at a red light. he gives me an angry sigh, and clenches his jaw.

“no, say what you’ve been wanting to say for these last 40 something minutes. please, matt.” i spat out in a snarky tone.

he quickly turns to me. “i don’t know what you and that guy had going on up in that room, but it ends now.”

i look at him, my smile fading. “okay, matt.”

“im so fucking serious, y/n. you don’t know how much of what you do has an impact on me. all i’ve wanted was to be with you, and then i see you go and pull some stupid shit like that.” he looks back at the road.

“im sorry.” i shrink in my seat. matt stares at the road, as the light turns green. i slowly inch my hand closer and closer to his, and interlock our fingers again.

the rest of the ride is silent, until he pulls up outside of his house.

“still jealous?”

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm. 

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was  pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall. 

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library. 

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much. 

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist. 

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid. 

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.” 

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute. 

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse. 

[nicromancytarot]

DRAWING YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE’S APPEARANCE

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings.

PICK A PILE READING

I asked my spirit guides what your future spouse looks like, I’ve drawn a VERY rough sketch for a man and a woman, pick a pile and find out which one is for you!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

MALE

- Blonde hair

- Glasses

- Strong muscles (both body and face)

- Prominent Adam’s apple

- Blue eyes (first thing you notice, they could even sparkle a bit)

- Wavy hair

- Fair skin

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Teacher / Professor

- Mathematician

- Secure in themself

- Into politics / debating

- Doctor / Nurse

- Scientist

- Public speaker

- Wealthy

- Uranus

- Aquarius

- Calves

- Vegetarian / Strict diet

INITIALS: N, H, S, E, M

FEMALE

- Blonde hair

- Blue (fish) eyes

- Glasses

- Nose piercing (hoop)

- Prominent cheekbones

- Fair skin

- Large bust (posible surgery)

- Small waist

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Social media (influencer?)

- Hairdresser

- Slow talker

- Scientist

- Dancer

- Therapist

- Humanitarian worker / Advocate

- Artist

- Something wrong with one of their arms

- Folklore

- Cosplayer

INITIALS: B, A, P, F, E

PILE 2

MALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark, short hair

- Wears a lot of caps (specifically blue)

- Skinny body

- Sad resting face

- Stubble

- Pretty smile

- Tall (6’ - 6’3)

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rich

- Large house

- British

- Small waist

- Enemies to lovers

- Hugger

- Into styling and fashion

- Chef

- Lawyer / Judge

- Chess

- Army

- CEO

- Producer

INITIALS: S, H, I, D, Z

FEMALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark hair (wears a straight wig from time to time)

- Long face

- Pretty smile

- Prominent eyelashes

- Neat eyebrows

- Prominent collarbones

- Large bust

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rough past

- Farmer

- Humanitarian worker

- Estate agent

- Emotionally mature

- Carer

- breadwinner

- Protester

- Train conductor

- Likes to go on walks

- In charge

- Police / firefighter

INITIALS: G, R, S, N, T

PILE 3

MALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Light - dark brown hair (possibly ginger)

- Hazel or brown eyes

- Small lips

- Skinny body

- Wears a bandana

- Possible piercings

- Small eyebrows

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- School

- Part of the LGBTQ+ community

- Many jobs

- A texter

- Understanding

- Into science, possible scientist

- Mechanic

- Author

- Protester

- Football (soccer)

- May have cheated in the past (could do it again)

- Peanut allergy

- Office job

INTIALS: N, P E, R, S

FEMALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Brown or green eyes

- Light brown hair

- European

- Large eyes (Tim Burton)

- Large, dark eyebrows

- Tall (around 6’)

- Small lips

- Hooked nose

- Wears a bandana

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Pain

- Possibly born prematurely, or could give birth to a premature baby

- Good with money

- Shy

- Rebellious

- Works in a place where she has to restore things

- Nut allergy (I screamed when I got this for both lmao)

- Possible black sheep of the family

- Contemporary

- Past life soul that owes their life to you in this one

- Strong

- Model

- Coach

- Gets sick a lot

INITIALS: W, A, M, K, T

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Heatwave

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You get heatstroke while out with your brothers on a case, and they take care of you.

“Stay in the car,” Dean said as he stepped out of the Impala.

“But it’s hot in here,” you whined as the car turned off and the leather seats started to bake.

“We won’t be long,” Sam assured you. “But you’re a little young to pass for an agent, so stay.”

You wanted to listen, you really did. But the longer you stayed in the car, the more it began to feel like you were just in a giant oven, being slowly cooked for some sadistic witch to eat. Where were your brothers? It had been over an hour. Whatever the witness had to say, it must’ve been pretty interesting.

Your lips felt dry, and your head was starting to pound. Once you couldn’t take it anymore, you unbuckled your seatbelt—burning your hand on the metal clasp as you did—and stepped out of the car to track down your brothers.

…

Sam turned his head when he felt a tug on his jacket to see you standing at his elbow, your face bright red.

“Sammy, I’m hot,” you mumbled, swaying slightly on your feet.

“Sorry about that,” the woman they were interviewing spoke up. “The air conditioner’s broken.” She was looking curiously at you, like she didn’t know why you were there, but she opted to ignore it.

“How about you go outside,” Sam said under his breath to you.

“It’s even hotter out there,” you argued, wiping sweat off of your forehead.

“There was a breeze out there earlier, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dean said. You could tell your brothers were starting to become impatient; they were anxious to continue questioning the witness.

“Fine,” you sighed, shuffling out the door and down the porch steps.

“Seems a bit young for an agent?” The witness questioned finally.

“It’s—uh—take your daughter to work day,” Dean chuckled nervously. “Now, we just had a couple more questions for you.”

…

You wandered around for a couple of minutes in the woman’s yard, but when your headache worsened and your stomach began to ache, you opted to sit on the curb. The ground was hot, but the heat on your legs was still better than standing, especially when your vision started to spin. The dark gravel seemed to move in front of you, which wasn’t helping the nausea building up inside you. You played with the idea of going to get your brothers again, but ultimately decided there was no point. They would interview the witness until they had what they needed, and your nagging wasn’t going to make it any faster. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure you could stand now without falling over, as you still couldn’t see straight.

The air was beginning to feel like a weighted blanket above you, pushing down on your shoulders and face until it felt like you were almost choking on the humidity. As pain pounded behind your eyes, you felt and heard your breathing start to labor.

Confusion clouded your mind. Were you sick? What was happening to you? Where were Sam and Dean?

As though the very thought of them was a summoner, a hand on your shoulder had you turning your head to see Dean, concern etched on his face. His voice sounded distorted, like he was talking from behind a glass wall.

“You ok, kid?”

Sam’s hands on your face had your head turning the other direction.

“Hey, just try to breathe, ok?” Sam’s eyes turned to Dean. “She’s really hot, she might be dehydrated.”

“Ok, let’s get you to some air conditioning,” Dean said, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you to your feet. “Whoa.” Dean tried to steady you as you wobbled in your legs.

“Hey, look at me.” Now Sam sounded like he was talking under water. You tried to focus in on his eyes, but your vision was too clouded. You could see the light tan of his skin, and the dark brown of his hair, but even that was becoming obscure as black spots darted in front of you.

“S’my…” your voice came out muffled, as you couldn’t seem to find the energy to open your mouth all the way. All the strength was seeping out of you one muscle at a time, until Dean felt all of your weight collapse in his arms.

“Hey, hey!” Sam slapped at your face as Dean lifted you into his arms, pulling you away from Sam and hurrying you towards the Impala.

The brothers reached the car simultaneously, and Dean laid you carefully in the back while Sam started the car and got the air on blast.

“Should we take her to a hospital?” Sam asked as he got in the passenger seat. Dean started down the road, already shaking his head.

“No. This town is too small, we can’t start drawing attention to ourselves with these bodies dropping, there would be too many questions we can’t answer.”

“But Dean—“

“Look, she’s either dehydrated, or it’s heatstroke. Either way, we’re gonna get her to the hotel, get her in a cold bath, and get her some water. If she doesn’t wake up soon, then we can talk about a hospital, ok?”

Sam didn’t argue, and within twenty minutes you were awake and alert in an ice bath.

“What—where—“

“Hey, easy kid,” Dean soothed, bringing his hands to your shoulders. “Don’t get up, just rest for a second.”

“It’s definitely heatstroke,” Sam called from the other room where he was hunched over his computer. “Just keep her in there until her body temperature goes down. She should drink water, too.”

Dean took all this information in while pressing a hand to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature.

“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“Cold.” You shivered.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than the alternative.” Dean sighed, relief coloring his features. “You really freaked us out there, kid.”

You shifted guiltily, staring at your lap.

“I tried to tell you,” you mumbled shyly. Dean cringed.

“Yeah, yeah you did.” Dean grabbed onto your hands, letting the cold water cover both of your hands. You looked up at him. “I’m sorry, you’re right. This wasn’t your fault, ok? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, and Dean sighed again.

“No it’s not,” he said, more to himself than to you. “C’mon,” he directed at you. “Let’s get you out of there.”

…

Within ten minutes you were in dry clothes with about seven water bottles strewn around you.

“I can’t drink all of these,” you protested as Sam handed you yet another one.

“Sure you can,” Dean insisted, the ghost of a smirk haunting his twitching features. “Now go on.”

“Dean.” You huffed.

“Hey,” Sam interrupted. “Heatstroke is serious, ok? You gotta drink some water.”

“Ok, ok, but that doesn’t mean I have to start a drought,” you said, taking a handful of bottles and putting them on the desk next to you. “Now how long are you gonna make me stay in this bed?” Even as you asked, you yawned and made yourself comfortable.

Sam grinned. “You’ve gotta get a lot of rest for the next couple of days, but I’m serious, this was not good. We’ll have to make sure you’re not overheated, and you’re drinking enough water, for a few weeks at least.”

You sobered a little at your brother’s words.

“Weeks? It’s that bad?”

You regretted your question, because you now could see the way your brothers were kicking themselves about what happened.

“Yeah, it’s that bad,” Sam sighed.

“Hey,” you spoke up again. “It’s ok, alright? You guys were busy, and—“

“No,” Dean interrupted, his eyes hard. “No. A hunt should never be more important than you, ever. I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

“Okay,” you said. “I believe you, and I forgive you.” You remained stoic for a few seconds before your lips twitched into a smile. “And I’ll hold you to that.”

Dean chuckled softly, reassured.

“Please do.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

[varpusvaras]

Beru found out about their new neighbour on a one pretty unremarkable day.

Owen was out that afternoon, gone to recycle some of the old machinery parts they had left after one of their perimeter sensors had finally been worn down by the increased storms. The desert was calm that day, thankfully, as Luke had started to become very restless from not getting to go outside in days.

Perhaps Beru should've realised that such restlessness was going to make Luke forget their usual rules, in his haste to get out of the house, as all of a sudden she noticed that the immediate area around the house was uncharacteristically quiet, and not full of noises made by little boy playing space battles.

She didn't, however, get too far in her searches, when there was a tall shadow casted onto the sand right next to hers.

"Excuse me-" The man didn't even get to finish what he was saying, when Beru had already reacher for the prybar in the toolbox and turned around, gripping it tightly and ready to strike.

The Suns were partially behind the man, obscuring his features momentarily from her. She was tall and broad-shouldered, standing straight with his head held high even in the heat of the day. On his arms he held Luke, who had his arms around the man's neck in a relaxed, loose grip.

That made her loosen up her grip from the prybar just a little. Luke had the gift of knowing when to trust people, even if sometimes that trust overextended itself a little. The man's hold of Luke was, however, also relaxed, which made him a bit more trustworthy to Beru.

The man bend down and placed Luke onto the ground, and by doing so, he gave his face enough shadow for Beru to see him better.

He looked young, if a bit weathered, with some lines already forming on his face, though Beru could tell that they were in places that usually got creased up when someone was constantly concerned about something. There was a long scar running down the side of his face, showing up starkly as the skin around it had tanned more recently. It was the thing that told Beru that the man had not spent too much time on the desert yet, despite his clothes having already been weathered as well, and his footing being even enough on the sand. His dark, curly hair looked like it had only now started to grow out of a very well-maintained shorter cut. Another sign of him being a newcomer.

Still, there was something familiar in him, something Beru couldn't quite place, and she wasn't quite sure if that should've made her relax more or be more suspicious of him.

The man looked at her. His dark eyes were just as weathered as the rest of him, but still kind.

Beru made her decision. She lowered the prybar, and let go of it with her other hand, grabbing at Luke instead.

The man's shoulders lowered a bit as well.

"Excuse me", he said. "I saw your nephew had gotten a bit far away from the house."

Beru looked down at Luke. He looked up at her, and gave her a bit of a sheepish smile.

"Yes", Beru said, and looked back up at the man. "Thank you."

The man nodded.

"No problem at all", he said to her, and then turned to speak to Luke. "Stay where you're supposed to. The desert is a dangerous place."

"But you were there by yourself as well", Luke piped up, not able to resist the urge to talk back just a little.

The man smiled at him. Beru though he had a rather nice smile, even if it was worn down as well. She wondered what kind of hardships he had gone through, out there in the Galaxy, to seem like he had been sanded down by a multiple of storms already.

"I've seen a lot of places that are worse than this, kid", the man said. "I'll be just fine."

He then nodded his head again at Beru, lifted the back of the dark blue cape he had draped over his shoulders over his head, turned around and walked into the desert without another word.

Beru watched him go, ever so slightly confused about the whole interaction. She only moved his eyes away when Luke tugged at her hand.

"Did you know him?" He asked. "I've never seen him before. Not here or in town."

Beru shook her head.

"No", she said. "Did he say anything to you?"

She had not had the mind to even ask the man his name. She looked back out in the desert. He had already disappeared somewhere beyond the dunes.

Luke shook his head.

"He did know you are my aunt", he said. "And not my mom."

True, Beru realised. He had called Luke her nephew, without any introductions.

She decided not to be too alarmed about that. There weren't a lot of people who lived in the area. Chances were that the man had just heard about them already, and remembered who lived in the house.

Still. Not a lot people lived in the area, and even less had any business around there either. On top of that, even though she was more than sure that she had never seen the man before, Beru thought he had looked awfully familiar in some way.

"He seemed nice", Luke said. "He felt nice."

"If you say so, my little sun", Beru said. "Your feelings are often very precise."

She decided not to tell Owen about the man that evening. He would've just gotten unnecessarily worried about it.

----

Beru saw a dark blue cape in the corner of her eye.

When she turned, it wasn't the man from the desert, even if she was sure it was the same cape, with the tattered edges and faded shoulders.

She did know the man wearing it, though. Ben seemed to feel her eyes on him, as he also turned to look at her, and very briefly nodded at her before he went back to dealing with a customer.

Beru thought about it as she went on her business, and she walked back by Ben's stall as she came back.

Ben was already packing up by then, and Beru saw that he had also made purchases, as he was tying some wares that Beru didn't believe he had brought all the way from his house to the town. At the top were a new bedroll, and a pair of boots that even from afar looked too big for Ben's feet.

Beru smiled, before turning away. It really seemed like Ben wasn't alone anymore. That was good.

[the-floral-perspective]

Look headcannons | Creepypasta + mood boards!

This includes style and how I imagine their normal fits in this modern day. Also like race n whatnot.

Also, their everyday outfit is what they wear to kill their assignments! Their general aesthetics is like stuff they wear around the house or when they buy groceries or smthing. I’m sorry if I generally describe them the same way, but I promise how I vision them is different. Once I learn to draw it’s literally over for y’all.

Their everyday outfits are typically similar and nothing like their general aesthetic because of convenience reasons.

I don’t ever follow cannon so please don’t hate! Also don’t take the bodies too seriously! Y’all are beautiful just the way you are.

Jeff the killer

Face: triangle shaped face, slightly upturned nose with a slight curve from breaking his nose, hooded bright blue eyes, sharp jawline, thin lips. Unhealed but healing mouth scars, slightly discolored blotchy skin and unusually wide eyes. Wears guyliner. His mouth scars are like wide open btw. Super thin eyebrows tbh.

Physic: he’s got some boob, 5’11. Wide shoulders, a lil toned, but he’s got some squish. He’s got some MADDDD cake. His legs are hella muscular too.

General Aesthetic: lazy edge lord. Sweatpants, band tshirts, converse, slides. BLACK CROCS. Kinda pink sometimes tho, but that’s only cuz of Ben’s influence. He’s got a crazy collection of pajama pants tho (he has my kuromi pants from a secret Santa gift)

Everyday outfit: black ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie with a black turtleneck underneath. Wears some nice earrings tho and has an eyebrow piercing. Has a similar strap to EJ, but just on his thigh, it carries his knife and money. So yes he has a thigh strap.

Jane the Killer

Face: oval shaped face, bow shaped lips, high cheekbones, dark brown upturned eyes, upturned nose. Skin is a little patchy from the past burns, otherwise she is almost fully healed due to Slenders help. Has slight gashes on her cheeks but they’re mostly closed. Thicc arched eyebrows.

Physic: pear shaped, more booty than her chest. 5’8, seems a lot taller. A bit bony, long armed and long legged. A little toned, tho her arms especially, she’s got some DEFINEEED arms.

General Aesthetic: elegant lady going to the art museum. Wears a lot of longer pleated skirts (either knee length or longer), long silk dresses, heels, occasional converse. Shirts are form fitting and typically elegant or professional. Loves silk, satin fabrics and the occasional velvet.

Everyday outfit: a black sleeveless turtleneck with black flared pants and black fingerless gloves. When it gets really cold she wears a dark red coat with grey fur on the lining. Has a thigh strap and a chest strap to carry her weapons.

Ben Drowned

Face: heart shaped face, male button nose, small lips, completely black eyes with blood running down them. Pale skin and hella sharp cheekbones. Sharp ass jaw too.

Physic: 5’9. Broad shoulders, a little scrawny. Defined chest and shoulders, his stomach hella toned, he doesn’t got much cake but a barely adequate one. No boobs for this guy either. No honka honka for him :(

General Aesthetic: a lil punk and a lil basic. Like he wears a lot of plaid and also a lot of baggy band tshirts, so not really but sort of. He’s got the emo hair, he wears green plaid skinny jeans with a graphic tshirt and black combat boots a lot. Or converse. He’s got a lot of facial piercings too. So he’s just barely punk. He’s getting there tho.

Everyday outfit: a light green baggy tunic that kinda has a deep V 😏 and some black baggy pants that the tunic is tucked into. His shoes are black combat boots. Across his waist he wears a brown leather belt that has a small compartment on his hip where he can put his shit in.

Clockwork

Face: downturned lips, tan skin, a clock for an eye. Her other eye is monoloid shaped tho and brown. Hair is dark brown and messy straight. Button nose definitely.

Physic: pretty boxy and muscular. 5’11. She doesn’t have much boob or butt since she’s so muscular. There is a slight contrast between her chest and her stomach, but not that much. She’s defined and toned.

General Aesthetic: it switches everyday. Sometimes she’s pretty tomboy and other times she’s 2000 emo. She wears converse, short shorts, low waisted pants that have the bedazzled butt pockets, cropped tshirts and tank tops. So maybe 2000s party girl?

Everyday outfit: black zip up hoodie with fur lining the neck, lowrise dark blue bootcut jeans, dark red tank top. Brown ankle boots.

Ticci Toby

Face: male version of a button nose, diamond shaped face, bow shaped lips, multiple face piercings (snakebites, eyebrow piercing), slight stache on his chin and above his mouth (he shaves). Fluffy brown hair. The gash on his mouth is basically healed. Very very pale skin, pretty hazel eyes u could get lost in forever. Average brown eyebrows.

Physic: almost concerningly skinny, like he just barely makes the mark of being healthy. It’s cause he forgets to eat. 6’1. His shoulders are broad but he’s like a triangle if anything. Not much cake :(

General Aesthetic: boring white boy. Nowadays he only wears turtlenecks and tank tops with some boring ass pants. Tho they are tight on him 😏 he left behind his old hoodie habit. He picked up motorcycling gloves and vans.

Everyday outfit: a black, long sleeved, form fitted turtleneck with a black back harness for his axe’s. Black skinny jeans and converse for convenience. He still wears his goggles and face mask!

Judge Angels

Face: triangle shaped face, her chin has a prominent point. Almond shaped black eyes, heart shaped lips. Olive toned skin, pretty tan. Has a prominent crack on her left canine tooth. Upturned nose, crooked smile. Blond straight hair that greatly contrasts her skin. Blond short eyebrows.

Physic: short and petite, 5’2. Lean, doesn’t really have much muscle, or at least doesn’t look it. Pretty flat chested and a normal ass. She has calves of steal tho.

General Aesthetic: white and messy, likes baggier clothing and more trashy punk looks. Like she wears Tripp pants, oversized tshirts, big hoodies. She doesn’t really wear makeup except for some shittily done eyeliner. Her hair is still blond but now it has the occasional black streak.

Everyday outfit: one of those baggy tops that have the cuts down the sides yk what I’m talking about? Anyways it’s white with a bunch of charcoal on it that she stole from Bloody painter. For bottoms she wears black knee high combat boots and a pair of black, low waisted, wide leg shorts. Obviously under the shirt she has a sports bra. She also wears fishnet gloves.

Puppeteer

Face: Grecian nose, dark gray skin, almond shaped yellow eyes, a square shaped face, medium lips. I think his teeth are hella white tbh but he’s definitely got fangs of some sort. Thicc black brows.

Physic: pretty boxy, like he’s lean n all, but he is kinda straight up and down. Average cake, average waist, average muscle and tone. He’s still hawt tho, his hands 😩 6’3

General Aesthetic: helluva boss reject. Wears trench coats and boots and skinny jeans, business pants. The occasional hoodie. Doesn’t wear a beanie anymore. Or converse. Tho his wardrobe has lots of skulls. He kinda does a 360 with his wardrobe, going for more of an old school pirate vibe.

Everyday outfit: wears a long black trench coat that clips in the middle of his waist, black skinny pants, below the knee black boots, black button up (the last three buttons unbuttoned) are underneath his trench coat.

Nurse Ann

Face: diamond shaped face, button nose, mid/weaker jawline, thiccer lips, not a prominent cupids bow. Definitely pale/Greyish skin tone. Her hair is brown and is like boob length, also somewhat wavy.

Physic: curvy, kind of apple/pear shaped. She’s definitely well endowed with the bewbs and butt, has a more rounded stomach too, has thicc thighs and calves as well. 5’4.

General Aesthetic: fantasia 2000 princess type beat. I feel like she’s a huge fan of midnight blue and fantasy type of outfits. She loves dresses of any length with frill, lace and intricate designs. She loves puffy/billowed sleeves and mostly wears flats or boot heels. She’s also particular about silver star/moon designs.

Everyday outfit: I don’t think her outfit changed at all tbh, I think she still wears the black nurse costume and hat, tho I do think she’s added more weapons in her collection. I think she’s started focusing on needles and chemical injecting, tho she still uses her iconic chainsaw.

Bloody Painter

Face: oval shaped face, thin lips, bright blue almond shaped eyes, Grecian nose, a lil tan ngl, black messy hair (idk how to describe his haircut tho, it’s a lil long, straight and fluffy??)

Physic: kind of in the average or boney ratio. He has bony hands and forearms but aside from that he’s got medium sized shoulders and a slightly smaller waist. Ngl I feel like he does have some random curve at the bottom so some honka cake, but not much. 5’11

General Aesthetic: painter in despair. I think he likes Jean jackets, he’s like the male version of arthoe. He likes black/blue jeans, kinda looks like he came from the outsiders, wears baggy leather jackets too. Mostly sticks with tshirts with random bull on it. Also always has a brown satchel with him.

Everyday outfit: I feel like black cargo pants, black turtleneck and a black chest harness, probably combat boots too. On his chest he still has the smiley pin, but aside from that, for his assignments he goes pretty neutral and just for convenience. EJ totally helped him pick out his outfit too his first assignment.

Rouge

Face: square shaped face, upturned nose, chubby cheeks, vintage shaped lips?? Idk how to describe it. I feel like her hair is a messy black Bob now, but like pretty messy I mean it. Kinda tan. Definitely has freckles.

Physic: 5’7, pretty boxy. The best I can describe her is like Audrey Hepburn built. Idk why I feel like her and A.H are so similar. She’s boney and relatively small like that.

General Aesthetic: a little vintage sometimes, like she switches decades a lot. She wears fashion trends from the 1950s to modern day, both feminine and masculine styles. So she wears dresses, miniskirts, jeans, colored turtlenecks. Really her closet is very alive. She has stolen from her assignments hella tho ngl.

Everyday outfit: a black miniskirt with a tighter grey turtleneck, red tights, black calf length boots. When it’s cold she has a cropped jacket with a fuzzy hood and insides.

Masky

Face: oval shaped face, tan skin, dark brown hair (short and messy,) dark brown eyes, uhhh mid-somewhat sharp jawline, straight nose.

Physic: strong, average short 5’9. Builds more bulk, has strong arms and shoulders but a smaller waist, he’s got some MADD V-line. He’s got a nice smackable amount of cake.

General Aesthetic: 😏😏😏. He wears flannels, darker colored skinny jeans, SOMETIMES THO he wears 70’s pants that are like right around the hips and like highwaisted and whatnot with a sleeveless cropped tshirt. He’s oddly vintage with stuff like that, but in a rock singer type of way. He only just started getting into this tho.

Everyday outfit: dark blue skinny jeans, black tshirt, tan jacket that has a LOTTA compartments.

Laughing Jill

Face: button nose, oval shaped face, high cheekbones, an average (a lil weak) jawline, pale skin, black irises. Thinner lips. Thin slightly arched eyebrows.

Physic: southern mommy. SORRY. 6’2 tho Bc shes mythical. I think she’s a wide hourglass too?? Like she is big chested and she def has a gyatt, she’s got tummy. She isn’t really defined at all.

General Aesthetic: Harley Quinn wannabe. Just likes the mix matches jumpsuit idea. Like she loves mixing and matching contrasting colors and especially black and white. She mixes in some lavender too. Is always wearing the most dangly earrings too.

Everyday outfit: an above the knee length skirt with a black petty coat underneath, a long sleeveless vest that goes to her mid calf and buttons together under her boobs. Her shirt is a plain white button up with puffy sleeves. For shoes she wears black heeled boots. Her hair is in a curly bun with a tiny off center hat.

Hoodie

Face: Roman nose, not that pale, diamond shaped face, pretty light brown eyes. Pretty strong jawline. Short black hair (dyed recently)

Physic: muscular, 6’2. Hes beefy. Like he’s got boob muscle, ass muscle. HE IS SCARRRY. Think like a smaller Miguel O’Hara almost. He’s less beefy than that, but like yk still beefy.

General Aesthetic: tbh think he went for a goth/alt vibe. He mixes feminine and masculine occasionally. Wears like long skirts sometimes, like a kilt almost?? Wears the fishnet tights as shirts, has multiple Spencer’s belts and necklaces.

Everyday outfit: black fishnet top with a black fitted tshirt over it, black baggy pants. Multiple finger rings. Multiple belts and waist bands.

Sally Williams

Face: circle shaped face, slightly downturned nose, wide green eyes. Small lips, lil bit of a chubby face. She does not eternally bleed from the head. Her hair is long and curly past her shoulders. She’s pretty dark.

Physic: a normal, average weighted 8 yr. 4’8.

General Aesthetic: she likes more vintage, boxy styled dresses from the twentieth century, like 1960s European box dresses inspired by Iggy and kids dresses from the 20s. She actually really likes the vintage youth outfits Bc of Shirley Temple. She LOVES Shirley Temple.

Everyday outfit: a pink and white designed dress that pleats at the bottom. Black Mary janes and white socks. She carries a small white clutch that slings across her torso. Her hair is in a long braid.

Laughing Jack

Face: pale as a mf, triangle shaped face, high cheek bones, cone nose, black hooded shaped eyes. Sharp ass jawline. Small forehead. Hair is shorter and more curly.

Physic: toned as an mf but SCRAWNY, like he’s dangly and flexible. It’s scary and arousing. He has no cake tho, no boobs either. He’s very lightly defined but that is IT. 6’9

General Aesthetic: likes the David Bowie Jareth Labyrinth aesthetic, kind of similar to EJ, but not really. He just also really likes poets shirts and vests. He loves dressing sort of Royal or regal. HE LOVES to wear baggy button ups but he NEVER buttons them up all the way 😏

Everyday outfit: I feel like his main outfit hasn’t changed much, the only thing I see him changing is the wraps around his waist possibly changing to a corset instead for his convenience.

(I’d like to remind that Lazari doesn’t have assignments as she is not a pasta, so her everyday wear is less convenient.)

Lazari

Face: tan, dark brown straight hair (occasionally pink), square shaped face, Roman nose, bow shaped mouth, thicc brown brows.

Physic: depends on her age she changes physically. But she’s probably like average in all ages, just less lean and a little chubbier. Height ranges from 4’11 to 5’8

General Aesthetic: colorful and a little childish. She wears overalls and paints on her pants a lot. Think of her like 2019 in a nutshell. She wears mom jeans and Angel tops and bucket hats. Hates crocs tho. All of her jeans have some 90s cartoon character painted on them.

Everyday outfit: a black Spider-Man tshirt with black overalls cuffed at the bottom. Red converse, fun silly socks, her hair in a long braid.

Jason the Toymaker

Face: diamond shaped face, pale, Roman nose, shoulder length bright red hair. Bright green eyes. Kinda got that Jareth haircut. Sharp ass jawline. Thin nicely shaped eyebrows. The makeup does not come off.

Physic: triangle. Slutty man waist. Not that toned tbh but he has enough. HES GOT SOME NICEE BONEY HANDS. His arms have decent strength and buff ness, but it’s rlly not that obvious. 6’8

General Aesthetic: old clowncore ig. Or like fantasy 1800s boyfriend aesthetic. He wears mostly beige or rained colors tbh and then a dash of black and red. Otherwise he makes up his outfits in abstract shapes and styles.

Everyday outfit: his usual tbh, bro has not changed much.

Zero

Face: square shaped face, wide eyes, no cupids bow shaped lips. Completely black eyes. Completely white hair that goes just past her jaw. Messy hair. Has stitches on the side of her mouth.

Physic: broad shoulders, smaller breasted, not much of a different with her waist. Does have low hips, like a long torso with shorter legs. 5’9

General Aesthetic: crust punk. Wears shit that is torn up and dirty. Lots of DIY and ripped up tights. Low rise black skinny jeans. And cropped shirts that go like just under the boob.

Everyday outfit: cropped black ripped jacket, plain black tshirt and lowrise shitty ripped skinny jeans and black combat boots. Under her ripped jeans is her striped ripped stockings.

Homicidal Liu

Face: slightly upturned nose, still has the stitches on his face, green eyes. Lighter brown neck length hair. Kinda has like a slight wolfcut tbh. A lil tan.

Physic:I feel like he’s a lil buff. Like 5’9-5’10. Not as buff as Jeff. Has some thiccness tho mostly in his shoulders tho so he’s more toned than Jeff.

General Aesthetic: spider noir energy. He loves trench coats and business pants. No matter what he’s always wearing black gloves. He’s always wearing business shoes too.

Everyday outfit: black turtleneck and black trench coat with black pants and black knee boots. He has patches on his coat with holes in it, but they’ve been patched up with his striped scarf, same with his pants. His main fit is patched together with his old scarf.

Nina the Killer

Face: triangle shaped face, olive skin tone, button nose. Curly black hair (often straightened) with purple and pink streaks, thicc upturned lips. Her scar is healed, but still very open like Jeff’s. Her eye situation depends on her state of mind.

Physic: 5’4, pretty skinny and toned. Mostly proportionate. Aight sized boobs and butt, generally just dainty idk. Built like the girl from house of 1000 corpses.

General Aesthetic: risqué Monique Chabot in post war France. She wears short skirts, only cropped tshirts and small dresses. She does not get cold at all omg. A lot of times she’ll wear heals or platforms. Never flats or converse tho anymore.

Everyday outfit: platformed knee high boots, black tights with black thigh highs overtop, a black and pink plaid miniskirt, a black crop top that’s a random band tee. A fluffy cropped black jacket that’s zipped up halfway, for style purposes. Fluffy earmuffs if it gets cold and her hair in an emo high ponytail.

Candypop

Face: oval shaped face, hella pale, Grecian nose, heart shaped lips tbh, almond shaped purple eyes. His hair is still the long pretty blue color as always, always up in a ponytail.

Physic: built exactly like LJ but more meaty, like he’s got more toning on his thighs and legs and stomach. Like he looks a lot healthier than LJ for sure. His outfit definitely makes his muscle pop a lot too 😏 6’6

General Aesthetic: he wants to be Ramona flowers, but he literally can’t Bc he can never find men clothes that is like hers.

Everyday outfit: tbh, his outfit has NOT changed like at all otherwise in color scheme. When his hair was a light green, his outfit became more warmer toned b4 he grew out of that phase and went back to his OG look.

Kate The Chaser

Face: square shaped face, round white eyes, black messy hair just barely past the shoulders, small lips, high cheekbones, Roman nose. No brows, they are drawn on.

Physic: a little thicc, broad shoulders and broad hips. I’d say a wide hourglass figure, but she’s like hella muscular. She has a proportionate amount of ass. 5’6

General Aesthetic: she wants to look like Siouxie, very 80s goth. Allison from the breakfast club energy. She loves wearing long skirts with big sweaters and doing the beehive hair. She loves scarves too and has a hella collection.

Everyday outfit: black wide legged jeans with a billowy maroon sweater and black combat boots. Sometimes she’ll add one of those long black detective jackets, but that’s off missions.

Eyeless Jack

Face: grey skin, Grecian nose, rectangle shaped face, high cheekbones, medium sized lips. Split tongue. Almond shaped black eyes. His hair is dark brown and somewhat long and wavy/curly. Medium thicc arched brows.

Physic: 6’7 and very strong. He’s not ripped like bulging, but he is definitely defined. He’s got ass and thighs, his waist isn’t as small as Dr Smileys, but there’s still a medium difference between his shoulders vs his waist.

General Aesthetic: he wants to be cottage core so bad, like the poets shirt and tunics. He does wear cream colored tunics and billowy pants. Tho sometimes on special occasions he dresses like a basic bitch. He’ll get out the tight business pants and black button up.

Everyday outfit: a black button up, black jeans and navy blue converse. He wears one of those chest strap things tho that carries his scalpel and other weapons. He wears a black leather jacket too <3

Dr Smiley

Face: pale, dark red eyes, tiny pupils. Shoulder length, fluffy black hair. Diamond shaped face, Roman nose, thin lips. Defined jaw. Johnnie Gilbert looking guy. Thin arched brows.

Physic: lean and tall. He’s got broad shoulders and an itty bitty waist fr. He’s bony af tho (except for the thighs,) he’s got NO cake. No junk in the trunk for him. 6’1

General Aesthetic: professional emo/dark academia. He’s ALWAYS wearing black turtleneck and dress pants. He always has a red satchel too.

Everyday outfit: he still wears his black medical mask and white doctors coat, underneath that though he wears a black short sleeved turtleneck, so his arms are out when he’s not wearing his coat 😏 his pants are just basic dress pants tho. Aside from the shirt, he wears basically the same thing he always has.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

where the birds and fish gather

A/n: my silly fish and bird hybrids! Few sexual references but mdni! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK ABOUT ANY OF THEM I'M DESOERATE FOR ASKS- ignore my grammar haha

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧ ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧

★ sydney the cockatoo

sydney's the most mischievous bastard out of all of them. Your watch is missing? In his nest. Your necklace? His nest aswell. Your hat? He's wearing it. You're never getting it back. He sees something shiny, it's in his little claws. Like all the avian hybrids, his arms are wings and he's covered in feathers. Having a human face with little beak like lips. His legs are bird legs. Black eyes staring at you from his nest in a tree. Be careful where you step after any surprise snow in's. He's probably burying himself in it. 5'4

★ Evangeline the peahen

The elegant, sophisticated, coy, angelic Evangeline. Gabriel's mate but she despises his guts, similar to princess, she much prefers you. Often dragging you to their nest and squabbling with Gabriel when he tried taking you away. She may not be as pretty as he is outside, but she certainly is Inside. Proudly showing off her brown little feathers. 5'6 brown straight hair, black eyes and a little pale

★ gabriel the white peacock

Egotistical bastard. He hates his wife for being so ugly, but he does think you are extraordinarily beautiful. He could definitely envision putting his clutch inside you. He'll figure a way out, don't you worry! An albino peacock male with red eyes, white feathers and extremely pale. 5'7

★ fajarah the ring necked parakeet

she's sydney's little partner in crime, but lately she's mellowed out more. Now preferring to watch the koi mers swim around and munch on some chips she stole from the main house. Tilting her head curiously at something she finds interesting. Bright green feathers and hair, black eyes and tan skin. 5'2

★ foolish the owl finch

often seen in the fields with the cows and bulls, he's quiet and prefers to watch. Hopping around quickly and pecking things that catch his eye. There's not much to say about him since he keeps to himself alot, but he does seem to like the biscuits you bring for him.

★ simon the tyto alba

Simon is deaf and mute, having been found wandering around the farm as a little chick. Now the farmers are looking for any way to help him with his hearing long term, but he seems to have adjusted to looking for any vibrations on the ground. Pale and white hair,black eyes, very pointy beak like lips

★ the koimer quintuplets

There's nothing much different between the quintuplets except their different patterns. Just that tancho is the leader and more mature, Kiko is more curious and childish, Hime is sweet and reserved, tsu is a chatterbox and humble, koromo is loud and nosy

★ mason the "lake monster" (crocodile)

Mason is like an older brother figure for the quintuplets, teaching them Little bits of English and watching you interact with them from the depths of the lake or hidden behind some underwater trees in the lake. You may not always see him, but he's always there. Silently watching. Messy grungy hair, green eyes, and has a light tan. 6'4