#which would be much more expensive to remedy

[neofelis----nebulosa]

When you suddenly realize your polarization filter for your camera lens is just straight up broken

[delirious-donna]

an: I had this thought and it wouldn’t leave me so please enjoy the filth of my brain 😌 short but sweet…

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: suggestive, dirty talk, public setting, reader is very embarrassed by their situation

Frozen in place in the midst of the grocery store, you dared not to move. A slow trickle escaped your body and you firmly clenched your thighs together in the hopes of preventing anything further from leaking out. This was mortifying, this would be the thing that turned you into dust to blow across the wind for the rest of time.

A large hand found the small of your back, warm and familiar, followed by a concerned voice by your ear. “Something wrong, honey?”

You whipped around to him, face growing impossibly warm and sweaty at the immediate imagery of honey dripping from its pot. The slow sensual pour of sticky nectar prickled down your spine, and you wondered if he already knew of your current plight. Kento’s eyebrows rose towards his neat hairline, completely oblivious, despite your worries to the contrary, but he did sense your discomfort.

“Don’t you honey me,” you whisper yelled, poking a sharp finger into the centre of his chest. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Talk you into… grocery shopping? We both need to eat, sweetheart,” he answered with a poorly disguised chuckle.

Kento turned to examine the fresh produce, squeezing mangoes to find one nearing ripeness, and you damn near dropped to the floor at the sight. His impossibly large hand encased the whole fruit, fingers flexed around the fleshy skin and all you could think of was how that was exactly how he would squeeze and grope at your breasts.

You took a step closer—drip.

“Kento…” you whined pathetically, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and doing your damnedest not to dance on the spot like a child in need of the nearest bathroom.

With a sigh, he placed the basket hooked over his other hand on the floor and brought you into the shelter of his body. His chin rested on your head whilst your arms encircled his waist, holding him gently and only for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m leaking.”

Kento paused, perplexed. “You’re what?”

This was so embarrassing and he was going to make you spell it out for him. “What did we do before grocery shopping?”

“We showered, you cooked breakfast and I—oh.”

The penny finally dropped and you could kick him for the shit eating grin that spread across his face. You weren’t accustomed to such obvious delight etched over his features and at your expense too!

Before you could think to follow through with kicking his shin or huffing and puffing, he pulled you into his side and lowered his mouth to your ear. The warm fan of his breath sent goosebumps rippling up and down your arms and your pulse quickened.

“Am I right in saying that my seed is leaking out of you?” He asked coolly, as if he was asking you an everyday question like what type of cheese should we buy this week.

You nodded, afraid of your own voice right now.

Kento hummed. “Then I clearly didn’t fuck it deep enough. We’ll have to remedy that. How does it feel? I’ll bet it’s all warm from your hot little pussy.”

“Kento!”

“That’s right, my love. That’s how you screamed my name when I had your ankles by your ears. Mm, my sweet honeypot.”

If you weren’t melting already, you certainly were now. Your body betrayed you wilfully, the walls of your cunt pulsing to push more of the creamy cum into the seat of your underwear. Kento laced his fingers with yours and began to guide you down the aisle, but you walked on stiff legs, so afraid of what might leak down your thigh if you moved normally.

“I’m stuck! What if I make a mess? I can’t stand here all day,” you squeaked much to Kento’s amusement. He was enjoying your predicament far too much, the wicked man that he was.

“Shall I find you a cart to sit inside?”

“You’re not funny mister…”

“Oh, but I’m not laughing, darling. You’ve let my gift escape, which I find rather rude. I intend to finish this shop fast and replace what you’ve lost.”

You blinked, lashes fluttering in rapid succession. The weight of molten heat dropped into the pit of your stomach. He couldn’t be serious.

Gently, he hooked your arm through his and patted your hand. His face was unreadable once more, eyes scanning the produce and placing items into his retrieved basket. So handsome, so calm, yet beneath the mask lay a man capable of ruining you with words alone.

“Come along, dear. I’ve just remembered we’re all out of honey… not that we don’t have ample supply of our own,” he whispered the last part beneath his breath.

“You’ll always be sweeter than honey to me.”

[fatuismooches]

Your fluff writing is soo good! Thank you so much for making this blog.

Can I request headcanons for Dotorre, Pantalone, and Capitano with a reader who's not used to the cold? I just moved from my extremely warm country to a really cold place, and am sniffling, shivering, and miserable 🥲🥲 If only there's someone to cover me in a boyfriend jacket and hold hands with something to keep me warm 😔😔

Dottore once went through the same thing, moving from Sumeru to Snezhnaya definitely affected him in the beginning. His younger self grumbled throughout his experiments as he was bogged down with the heavy winter coat (that Pierro so generously provided) while the native Snezhnayans felt pity for him, but dared not to look at him with that feeling. It was really a hindrance in the beginning, not even gloves could keep his fingers from stiffening. A big disappointment since he needed steady hands. However, a couple of centuries and body modifications later, make it so the cold is nothing special to him or his segments. It really doesn’t affect them much anymore.

So for once, Dottore can actually understand what you’re feeling. And even more surprisingly he can handle the situation in a relatively normal way! You look kind of ridiculous with the amount of layers he's made you wear, but he insists that this method will work. You'll build up resistance eventually! But you're probably not satisfied with this turn of events (you wanted cuddles, didn't you?) so just head on over to his segments. As long as they're not busy, feel free to take their artificially heated-up hands and move them around your body. It will feel very nice. Lucky you, who needs expensive heaters when you have the segments! But honestly, no matter how cold you are, don't give too much attention to them and neglect the original Dottore! Would he turn off the lab's heating and assign tasks to the segments to make you crawl back to him begging for warmth? Well, that's up to you.

Pantalone will not hear of your shivering and sniffling, no, not on his watch. What did you expect, that he'd let his beloved suffer like this when he has all the remedies at his fingertips? There's not much to say really. Thick, cozy blankets. A delicious hot beverage of your choice and hearty soup by the fireplace. Only the finest heaters in Teyvat. Warm, comfortable clothing. A seat on his lap if you prefer rather than the bed. The amount of things he does for you may have you feeling a little too hot, not just from the number of heat sources but his willingness to do all these things for you. (But please don't overheat.) He won't stop until your hands stop being two blocks of ice. And yes, you can steal his coat if you so desire. He has a lot more, don't worry about it. Hell, steal two or three if you like... one to wear, one to place over you, and one to... hold? Doesn't matter, Pantalone encourages it. And although he doesn't like seeing you cold, of course, he thinks you're just far too cute when you give him the puppy eyes for much-needed warmth and attention.

A part of it also stems from how many days and nights he spent cold and alone as a child, with nothing and no one to keep him warm. Often becoming sick from the conditions. So he knows exactly how it feels to be trembling and miserable. Which is why he will never let you suffer similarly, Pantalone cares for you far too much for you to ever endure anything related to that. He will make sure to keep your hands warm, as long as you keep his heart warm too.

Capitano feels quite glum, even though you can't exactly see that from his expression, you manage to read his general body language quite well, not to mention the stare you get when you sniffle for even a second. He himself doesn't feel the cold much either, being the very strong man he is. But Capitano wants to help you, he really does - he has led troops through all kinds of weather, including the biting cold - so he is aware of methods used to retain as much warmth as possible. So yes, he will make sure your closet has much warm clothing, although he has to awkwardly clear his throat when asking for your sizes. He will get confused as to why you steal his massively oversized clothing instead. He will make sure that soup is nutritious enough to keep your strength up (even though you're not a soldier...) Of course, the bed will be your cozy warm haven, the blankets are very nice and big considering how tall Capitano is.

Considering how Capitano isn't all that versed in things like this or taking care of people, you would thank him for all he's done for you. Except that he's forgotten one thing, you'd tease. Externally he looks the same as always. Internally he wonders if he's messed up and if he's upset you. Was he wrong to apply the logic of being a captain to his relationship with you? No, it's merely the fact that he has yet to cuddle you. Oh. That's all? But wouldn't all these blankets and sheets be better at warming you, your husband questions? Nope, you'd shush him before making yourself right at home and his lap. You are very strange, Capitano thinks.

Also just imagine them with their Harbinger coats, and you're inside of it! Stealing the warmth! Your head popping out as they give you kisses! <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heel, Stay, and Shake.

🐦‍⬛ What’s this? A wild bird in our classroom? Now we can’t have that, can we? 🧪

By My Hand.

Raven didn’t know what to expect when Professor Crewel asked to see him after class. A summons from him typically meant one of two things: a thorough scolding or remedial work. Sometimes both.

She wasn’t the type for either. Raven kept her head down and behaved—and thus stood off to the side of his wrath. And now here she was, standing in the line of fire.

“Wooow, sucks to be you,” Ace had sneered on his way out. “The goody-two-shoes finally gets into trouble herself!”

“Leave her alone, Ace,” Deuce grumbled, “You don’t want to make things worse for her than they already are.”

Even the Prefect, Yuu—level-headed, neutral—had passed her a look of sympathy. But they cleared out of the laboratory the same as the rest, leaving Raven to her doom.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, trapping her in with their teacher.

Crewel had traded his lab coat and safety goggles for his usual attire: a black and white color-blocked vest, black undershirt and slacks, smart shoes that clicked with every step, blood red gloves, socks, and tie. Over this, a striped fur coat with several tails, the insides a shocking scarlet.

He ran a hand through his hair—black slicked back, white in a graceful sweep of parted bangs. His eyes, a shade of iced onyx, dug into her like the teeth of a dog. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to threaten to.

She struggled not to tremble under his gaze. Raven knew it to be discerning and, more importantly, unrelenting in its critique.

“Crowley.”

“Y-Yes!!” Raven yelped, standing at attention. Her posture naturally corrected itself at his voice. Back stiffening, head lifting. “Wh-Whatever it is I’ve said or done to offend you, I apologize! I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future!”

“Offend me?” Crewel’s surprise melted into a devilish smirk. “You’ve done nothing of the sort. However, I’m flattered that you would think yourself in such dire need of my private instruction.”

“Eh? Then what did you need me for…?”

“A curiosity of mine. I hope you do not mind.”

“N-No, sir! Curiosity not minded!”

A chuckle.

Crewel extended his pointer to a line of shelves. “I’ve heard from the headmaster that you care for colorants. Is that correct?”

Raven was all too eager to provide the answer and then book it out of there. “That’s right. I brew some in my spare time. They’re enchanted inks, meant for writing and journaling.”

“Inks? What, may I ask, makes them ‘enchanted’?”

“Well…” Raven gestured to a potted mandrake. “It’s like cultivation. I infuse magic into the ink, which grants them fun properties. Smelling like an orange slice, glowing even long after you’ve penned it, words that produce the sounds they write out.”

“I see.” Interest had started to seep into Crewel’s voice. “Have you ever thought to extend this skill to other areas of application?”

“No, not really. It’s just something I got into to save on pocket money. Commercial inks can be expensive, so I thought to make my own with the ingredients gathered from around campus…”

Raven trailed off.

A glint had settled into Crewel’s eyes. The very same shine that came into Crowley’s at the mention of money or fresh game.

“It seems to me,” Crewel said slowly, “that you have a talent.”

A stone dropped into her stomach.

Uh-oh, here comes trouble.

“I would very much like to train that talent.” He tapped his pointer into an open palm. Each strike light, but had all the gravity of a gravel.

“Huh?!”

“You’re familiar with Night Raven College’s charity ball?”

“Yes…”

She couldn’t forget it even if she tried. The headmaster had droned about it for the last several weeks, declaring it a “prime time” to look good to the public. (Half of those weeks had been spent preening and wondering which suit and tie to wear.)

“School staff are to be in attendance to oversee the event. This year, we’re donating the proceeds to an animal shelter on Sage’s Island—a cause I’m particularly passionate about. As such, I would like to wear something stunning—and to dazzle at a show, you must have the element of surprise. I will be designing my own outfit. That is where you will come in.

“I will provide the materials, and you will prepare the dye for it. I want a unique color and magical effect that suits my image and enhances it.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about fabrics or treating them,” Raven protested faintly.

“Which is why I will mentor you. It will be a collaborative effort.”

“I-I’m sure you’re entirely capable of accomplishing this on your own, Professor! After all, Crewel-sensei is so very skilled…”

“Tch.” He frowned, making his displeasure clear. “You are missing the point, pup. Do you really think I wouldn’t have already done so, were that my intention?”

Raven flinched. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Night Raven College is making efforts to promote teamwork in its curriculum and extracurricular activities. For such a front-facing event, our new direction will be center stage. You’re a clever girl. I’m certain I do not need to explain the importance of this.”

“Surely there are more ideal candidates, sir… Students far more qualified than me. V-Vil-senpai? Or a Science Club member? Rook-senpai might be interested.”

“Of course I am aware of that—but this isn't about them. This is about you."

His pointer sliced through the air, so sharp that it cracked like a whip, aiming itself right at her. Crewel's face was the picture of arrogance, a high and mighty king looking down at the peasants. (Raven suddenly understood why he, of all teachers, was a Night Raven College graduate.)

"Since the day you scampered into my classroom, you've been nothing but a meek little thing. Obedience is all well and good, but you lack a bark and a bite, the confidence to be bold and to demonstrate your ability with pride. Schoenheit and the others already have that.

“You must learn how to speak up, pup! And this Crewel-sama will be the one to teach that to you.”

“B—But…”

“No buts!” he snapped. “If you’re going to reject the idea, then do so with your entire chest! I will accept it as proof of your bite. If you cannot muster that, then you will submit yourself to my guidance. What will it be?”

Raven shrunk back—proving his point. Speak up? Louder, more sternly—against her own teacher? She couldn’t.

Yikes, he’s so fired up about this… There’s no way I can comfortably say ‘no’!

She balled her fists up, terribly twisting her skirt. Raven sighed deeply, resigning herself to her fate.

“… Alright, I will do my best to assist, Crewel-sensei. In return, I will be relying on you too.”

“Good girl. You’ve made your choice.” Crewel offered a hand. “Then let us shake on it.”

She hesitantly took it. His grip was firm and resolute, hers limp and unenthusiastic.

At last, he smiled in satisfaction. “I look forward to instructing you, Crowley. I expect you to keep up.”

Never in her life had she felt more like some poor dog strung along on a leash.

[julietsbody]

Okay first of all You are amazing and really feeding my obsession over Coryo😵‍💫❤️I love Your fics so much

Second of all…

What are Your thoughts of Coriolanus with spit kink who just loves punishing and degrading reader in public places?

Like pushing you in the nearest empty room to just spank You and spit in Your throat for being a bad girl😵‍💫

a/n : thank you so much!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა also i love this idea sm… he DEFINITELY loves to humiliate reader! i hope u enjoy this!

tags : orgasm denial , edging , spanking , spitting , spit kink , angry sex , public sex

( divider by mewmyu )

coriolanus snow was your boyfriend, he was a good boyfriend, he showered you in riches when he could, spoil you in expensive roses or all the finest things. he would save up his pocket cash and surprise you with something you had been wishing for when he finally was able to afford it. but, that’s only when you were good to him as well.

when you weren’t, when you refused to wear something he recently bought you, or wore shorter skirts to tease him in public. today was one of these days in which you decided to wear those mini skirts, and god, he hated it. he hated how he could see your ass peaking underneath, because he knew everyone else could as well.

such a slut, it didn’t take long for him to speed - walk after you in the busy academy halls, eventually catching up to you and abruptly taking hold of you. he keeps walking until he finds a nearby empty class, ignoring your questions as he slams you into the classroom.

you breathe against him, “coriolanus? what are you—“

“you wore that on purpose, didn’t you? fucking slut, i spend so much on you, so much fucking money,” he moves to take hold of your jaw, prying your glossed lips apart, “and you make me look like an idiot by showing off your body like this, you want me to look like an idiot?”

“no, no.. i promise, coriolan—“

“don’t call me that.” he snaps immediately, “stick your tongue out.”

so you did, you did anything he wanted you to, and immediately he spat into your mouth without any warning, “swallow.”

the taste of his saliva smooths down your throat as you gulp it down, and your doe eyes peer up at him, “i’m sorry.”

“are you, now?” he chuckles, spinning you around so you’re not pushed, front - first, against one of the nearest desks, “surely you just love to embarrass me, after everything i’ve done for you.”

before you can speak, his hand spikes against your ass, already reddening the skin there. you yelp into the wall, mumbling out incoherent apologies as his hand becomes relentless against your ass, slapping it until the skin is maroon.

tears prick at your eyes, glossing over your dilated pupils.

coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow as his hand moves to pull up your skirt, only to find that you are free of any panties as well. fucking hell. his jaw ticks, “you fucking bitch.”

it doesn’t take long for him to have you bent over the desk, gripping the wood for dear life as he slams into you. he doesn’t respond to any of your incoherent mumbles, or sobs, or sweet apologies. no apology could remedy such slutty behavior, especially when you knew damn well what you were doing.

his fingers lace around your neck, prying you off the desk and pulling you up against his chest, “look at me, you slut.”

his fingers are tight around your neck when you turn to him, rivers burning down your cheeks, puffy lips begging to feel his gentle kisses. but he doesn’t kiss you, of course not, he moves his free hand to pry your lips apart, tugging your tongue out before he harshly spits down your throat one more.

“swallow,” he feels the saliva travel down as you gulp, due to his tight fingers around your neck. it wasn’t enough to constrict you of air, but enough to teach you a lesson. his jaw shifts, “you’re so fucking tight— you gonna cum, hm?”

you nod immediately, moaning against him as he pounds you relentlessly, “yes, yes.. i— ‘m gonna cum— corio—“

“you think you deserve to cum? sweet girl, you’ve made a fool of me, why do you think you’re allowed satisfaction?“ he chuckles, “so entitled, spoiled bitch.”

he takes time to fuck into you until his cum is deep inside of you and you’re whimpering on his dick from your awaited orgasm, and he still doesn’t allow you the pleasure, he just pulls out and allows you to move exhausted against the desk. you breathe heavily, glass tears continuing to fall, “‘m sorry, coryo— please forgive me—“

“no,” he scoffs, tucking his softening dick back into his pants, “see you in debate, and change your fucking skirt.”

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Hello!! I was wondering if you have any book recommendations for Appalachian folk magic? Especially for a beginner, I’m familiar with our local “old wive’s tales” but I’d love to learn more!!

Hello there! I have answered this question before but I have some new resources so I'll list them here! It really depends on which part of Appalachia you are looking at! And if you want to dig deeper the ancestral roots of the family you are looking at. For example my family has a lot of Welsh and British influence because that was our family source so a lot of those beliefs lingered and changed throughout the years!

Someone from Pennsylvania would likely have a lot more German roots for their practice. But despite the root differences for the folklore these practices stem from they do still share a lot of connecting points! But having babbled all of that here are my favorite books on AFM specifically. (Mind you Christianity takes a super huge part in the practice so a lot of bible and doing things in threes for the Trinity is involved!)

Authors to check out:

H. Byron Ballard- A pagan who also practices AFM, from the NC side of Appalachia, a lot of people hate her writing style which is a bit ramble-y. I also dislike the term she uses for her own practice but that is a super simple and small complaint honestly. I own all of her books on the subject, which should say something.

Jake Richards - From Eastern TN like me! A lot of what he talks about are things I have seen before, and he breaks down complex concepts like burn blowing into something relatively easily understood. HOWEVER HAVING SAID THAT the author is partially Melungeon, so he does have some Hoodoo mixed in from his grandmother's side iirc? He does label these things in his works and explains that they are not for everyone which I do appreciate.

Rebecca Beyer - While vaguely Wiccan toned, which I attribute to her publishers/raising, she's a transplant to Appalachia and if you're looking for herbal information on Appalachia and to wax poetic about how even with a ton of people settling there SO MUCH of the natural herbs and plantlife still survive, read her work! Her work on foraging safely and environmentally is so SOOOOO good.

Brandon Weston - For Ozark Mountain range/German/Dutch Appalachian work! He has written quite a few books on the subject and all of them are a treat!

Roger J. Horne - For how to dig into folklore and apply it to your own practice! This author is pagan and does blend in some traditional work with the Appalachian but I do enjoy his work and how he applies folklore. This author is also FROM Appalachia which is nice to see.

INDIVIDUAL BOOKS TO READ: Appalachian Folk Healing by Jake Richards - A republication of a very old book on remedies and 'spells', while kitschy and stupidly worded, after all it was a popular book created just for sales reasons, some of these remedies are things I remember having done to me! Good for both a giggle and actual information. TW for mentions of animal parts, hunting, illnesses, the G slur, period specific phobias and racism.

Albertus Magnus - These books all supposedly written by an ancient guy, were actually mildly common on traveling salesmen's trucks and wagons. So as a result a lot of people in Appalachia had access. Like the book above it is very stupidly worded and definitely of their time. Same TW as above.

Pow-Wows or Long Lost Friend - Another Pennsylvania Dutch book! Very good and very clear.

Southern Folk Medicine - A book that breaks down a lot of common medicinal beliefs in the South which does include Appalachia! Sadly not just Appalachia but a very good book regardless. THIS BOOK MADE ME UNDERSTAND THE THEORY BEHIND BLOOD ISSUES MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE EVER HAS.

Moon Eyed People - A collection of Welsh folktales that brewed within Appalachia from Welsh immigrants. Very good book imo!

Granny Buck's Dibs and Dabs - This book is so worth the price tag! One of the more expensive books in my collection, but I'm fine with that. Granny Buck covers a lot of topics and I can feel the accent through the wording!

Signs, Cures, & Witchery - More German Appalachian stuff! This book and it's interviewees are from the Kentucky side of the mountains!

Witches, Ghost, and Signs - This book is based more in the Southern Appalachian area! Georgia, SC, NC, and TN specifically! Lots of folklore here, but does mention some not so great bits of the lore, but that is expected.

The Foxfire Books - What began as a school project exploded into a collection of true to life stories and idioms from Georgia elders within the mountains. SO SO GOOD OKAY? For everything. How to plant, hunt, make musical instruments, anything from the mountains? They cover.

[r3medialch8os]

so since u guys liked that i did this with remedial chaos theory i will now also be doing this for epidemiology.

the most incredible thing about this episode is that it is in fact Not merely an homage like most concept episodes are; it actually happens. a zombie epidemic For Real takes place at greendale. it's not a gimmick or a game or a way to frame the plot. the actual conflict is derived from the fact that people are zombies and the study group need to outrun them/turn them back. how often can you say that a sitcom incorporates a storyline like this and sincerely pulls it off? never.

the emotional tension in this episode is framed around troy/abed/jeff and the dichotomy of being a nerd vs. being cool, which respectively get attributed the qualities of caring about the people around you who have turned into zombies or wanting to run and escape from the zombies without trying to help. abed and jeff's costumes are both pointed out in the beginning receiving clear denotations of 'lame' and 'too cool to care' and therefore their positions in the conflict are cemented. the episode has a push-pull with troy being the moving factor, having to decide what he thinks is most important. he gets swayed in the beginning by two girls rejecting him over his costume and jeff mentioning how expensive his suit is. he changes from his ripley costume into a 'sexy dracula'. abed spends the whole episode trying to get troy back to his side, even saying "what defines a nerd? committing to an awesome halloween costume with your best friend?" troy is eventually 'turned back' into his nerdy self (perhaps a zombie metaphor itself, keeping in tone with the theme of the episode) because jeff cares more about his suit getting dirty than surviving the herd of zombies.

a crucial part of the episode is that it is soundtracked by abba music playing from the dean's playlist. now, who would i be if i didn't investigate significant music choices connected to scenes? first up and probably the most important one: s.o.s. is used in the background of a scene where abed confronts troy about changing costumes. troy insults him and walks away. the lyrics are: 'you seemed so far away, though you were standing near. you made me feel alive, but something died, i fear. i really tried to make it up, i wish I understood. what happened to our love? it used to be so good.' next; gimme gimme gimme plays right before the scene where chang and shirley hook up. another insane choice is at the end when troy is fighting the zombies. the whole sequence has mamma mia playing in the background Faintly. then when troy eventually gets to abed and has to fight him, the music comes in much louder with the lyrics: 'here i go again, my, my, how can i resist you?', which i think fits perfectly. the ending song fernando has the lyrics 'there was something in the air that night', both referencing the thermostat changing the zombies back and the fact that it was just an incredibly weird fucking night.

troy is dressed as ellen ripley and also kind of acts as the ripley of this episode. his journey in this as being the sole survivor and the one to eventually save greendale adheres to a common science fiction model where a life-threatening force is faced against the protagonists and they fall off in degrees, resulting in one person being left to mend everything. here specifically, it seems to mirror ripley's journey in alien (1979) as it starts with a crew that eventually gets cut down leaving only her. i thought that was really cool.

more alien tidbits, but the jumping cat scene is also inspired by it. jones the cat is an imporant figure in the first alien movie. in various scenes, members of the crew will go looking for him, then get ambushed by the titular alien and subsequently killed. it is a minor homage to the movie through yet another subtle reference. the bit is also parodying jumpscares in horror movies in general, and how they are used to cheaply amplify the tension. anyways, it's quite the multilayered joke because it also really works out of context as a bizarre comedic moment.

troy and abed's scene in the basement pays homage to princess leia and han solo's scene in the empire strikes back. the conversation in the film takes place just before han is frozen alive in carbonite by darth vader. not knowing if he’ll survive, he kisses leia, only to be torn away from her by stormtroopers. she says 'i love you,' and as he descends into chamber, han replies, 'i know.' an undeniably romantic moment, maybe one of the most memorable ones ever, is applied to troy and abed who have held reign over the emotional core of the plot for the entire episode. it's pretty special that such an iconic moment is given to them, i feel like the creators of the show wouldn't just do this sparingly. it also perfectly resolves their conflict as troy makes such a vulnerable statement and abed assuring him that he already knew, validating their bond once again.

more on troy and abed, it is pretty amazing realizing the emotional implications tied to how dire the situation was. everyone in this episode was under the direct threat of Not Surviving, and still abed sacrificed himself for troy. he knew this was for real. he couldn't be sure if they were going to make it. but i think he had enough faith in troy to aid in his escape. it's very touching. further, it's incredible that troy is willing to fight all the zombies (all his friends) but when it comes time to punch abed, he refuses to do it. he's struck by the force of their friendship, mumbling 'we're friends' defeated before eventually succumbing to his bite.

troy saving the school by controlling the temperature; nicely setting up his further plot with the ac repair school.

him being the one to escape and abed saying 'be the first black man to make it to the end' subverts the common horror trope of 'black dude dies first'. a playful way of keeping up with the horror movie theme of the episode.

also ironically this episode, which features the song mamma mia by abba, sets up a plotline in season two about shirley not knowing who the father of her new baby is, which is functionally the plot of the movie mamma mia!, a musical based on abba's music. probably a coincidence but a pretty funny one.

at the end when the army arrives, they ask the dean about witnesses. when he says he is the only witness, one of the guards reaches into his jacket, suggesting that he's pulling a gun intended to kill the dean and get rid of the witness. when they notice everyone in the school is still alive, they abandon this plan and go for 'scenario b'. kind of dark but i laugh every time that scene happens.

anyways that's all i could pull from my brain crevices for now. this episode is a genuine masterpiece, it will never ever get old and will remain to be one of the most unique sitcom episodes ever created.

[amyriadofleaves]

outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter seven

synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.

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ao3 : wattpad  ˚　.˚　　

⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader, furina, sedene ⌗ warnings : brief mention of like pregnancy but not relevant to the plot ⌗ word count: 5.9k

Maybe you should’ve given in when Neuvillette offered to nurse you.

"Allow me, you're hurt."

"If you really want to help, please, get out of my apartment."

But having almost fainted in front of the Iudex of Fontaine, let alone having him carry you, is enough for all you can bear. The embarrassment is something you cannot think of; you cannot become susceptible to his offerings any longer — even if it is at the expense of your life. You swear yourself an oath.

Thus, you made a choice — to endure the pain. You’d rather sit alone in your apartment than allow him to see you so… rough. The prospect of further humiliation brings you more justification and reason for your ‘rejection’ to the Chief Justice’s offer. The worst of all is that it has been pouring the whole night, the usual calm of rain a newfound annoyance. 

It is almost dawn, and you’ve been trying your hand at different home remedies to help your now fully reopened wound. Antiseptic. Aloe vera. Honey, even. Not much a pretty sight for someone who’s been making it to the main headlines for a little under a month straight. You know your mother would curse you for such unruliness; but what were you supposed to do? Walk out on the streets bloodied, clutching at your stomach like a to-be-mother in labour? Oh, no, no — you cannot imagine the sight of it! 

You do not like how a set of sewing needles sitting on your dresser seem to stare daggers into you.

Reaching for them, you blink, retracting your hand. Just what are you doing? You could barely manage your own two stitches down in the fortress. What makes you think you can manage more than that? Your mind flickers to your schedule, littered with mundane duties to whatever unreasonable conditions Lady Furina imposed on you barely a month after being assigned the job. Do not be selfish, a voice chastises, firm and motherlike.

You nibble on your nail, weighing your options.

Whatever; you decide on sending a letter to the diligent soul tending to the mailbox, and rationalise that a day without your presence would not be a burden. It also conveniently provides you with a valid reason to grant yourself a day of respite before the whirlwind of significant events ensues (the wedding, and the preparations for it has your mind reeling and you would not like to think about it right now). Indulging in a bit of self-care seems tempting, a cleft in a rock. A mischievous voice in your mind edges out the more sensible thoughts, urging you towards a touch of mischief. An escape from routine would not disrupt anything too important, would it?

There's a glint in your eye as you entertain the notion of self-indulgence. Perhaps you could simply relish the luxury of an uninterrupted afternoon nap and tough out the worst of it unconsciously. This possibility, though seemingly trivial, is worthy enough of your consideration that you mindlessly reach for the set on your vanity.

You draw in a sharp breath and try not to scream as the needle pierces through your skin.

_____

Neuvillette does not need to look up from his desk to know that the woman making herself welcome to his office is Lady Furina. She walks in with her arms outstretched, grinning as if the spotlight was shining directly at her, casting shadows of her figure against the carpeted floors.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes still trained on a report he, admittedly, barely understands. The quill hovers over the parchment, a bead of ink pooling at the quill’s tip.

“Oh, how rude of you, Chief Justice,” Lady Furina remarks with a playful tone. “I expected a warm welcome, and this is what I get? The cold shoulder? Not only do you give me such a rude greeting, it’s raining. ”

This forces him to meet the Hydro Archon’s stare; his gaze is piercing — narrowed in brewing irritation. “Being the Hydro Archon does not exempt you from knocking on my door.”

Lady Furina, undeterred by his stern demeanour, places a hand on her chest in mock shock. “Are you teaching me manners, Monsieur Neuvillette?”

Neuvillette wastes no time in answering her question, and instead, he places his quill into its inkwell with a deliberate motion. “Lady Furina, you of all people should know that time is of the essence for me. Please, get straight to the point.”

“Why, yes, yes,” Lady Furina responds, a playful grin coming to press at her lips. “I was just wondering where that fiancée of yours is. Forgive me for indulging in my curiosity, but I took a little peek into her office to find it vacant; surely you must know where she is…”

Each party isn’t obliged to know the whereabouts of the opposite party unless consented to. 

Neuvillette acknowledges this silently, his expression remaining composed but internally processing the implications.

The condition rings through his head, but he dismisses it with a shake of his head; a trivial concern, for it does not apply. You had willingly told him where to go, and the place in question was your apartment. His mind wanders back to the events of the previous night — to when your consciousness waned, nestled close to his chest, your head gently resting against his shoulder. He should have tended to you, despite your protests to the contrary.

What a sight it was. He resists the urge to remember the trickle of blood seeping through your clothes, and it fills him with deep regret. Perhaps I should have been firmer; or maybe I am overthinking? Maybe she isn’t as injured as she appeared. 

Are you alright? Are you cursing him out?

A little voice tells him that you are strong enough to brave it, and that he shouldn’t let paranoia have him in its clutches — but this does not prevent him from feeling a morsel of worry.

He blinks. “That I do not, unfortunately.”

“W—well, you must’ve heard from her, certainly you have!” She shuffles closer to the Iudex until the only thing barricading him from her is his own desk. 

Neuvillette rests a hand under his chin. “Is there any evidence for you to say that I ‘certainly have’ heard from her?”

“Why would I have evidence of your dealings with your fiancée —” The question goes unanswered when her eyes drop to his hand. “Where. Is. Your. Ring.” Her jaw slacks further, and he swears he sees her tear up; the words spill more like a statement rather than a question, and Neuvillette presumes it’s from her shock that she delivered it in such a manner.

The hand leaves its resting place and he flexes it, the absence of a glimmer going very well noticed by Furina. “I don’t remember it being written on the note that it was necessary for me to possess an engagement ring.” He observes his hands further, gaze lingering on his ring finger.

“Did she — did she not inform you of it? At all?”

“I don’t think she found it of any importance to comment on. At all.”

Both of her hands cup her face, and she peeks at Neuvillette through the slits of her fingers. “Good heavens, Neuvillette, you hopeless thing! Have you no inkling of the time-honoured traditions of matrimony? What conceivable purpose does it serve for your fiancée to be seen with a ring if you, in your infinite wisdom, fail to sport one yourself? I implore you, someone, anyone, sedate me before I succumb to the sheer absurdity of your idiocy!” Though her voice is almost brought to a shout, the muffling of it brings the Iudex to inch closer in order to recognise the blurry syllables of her ‘speech’.

Furina’s tangent stuns him into a rare silence. Such audacity for her to claim that he, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, can be considered clueless of the customs of matrimony. He’s overseen many divorce cases over his time as Iudexm and yet he still allows the surge of defence dies when he silently admits his lacking in this field. After all, he was hardly an expert in such matters, having dedicated his life to legal intricacies rather than social conventions. However, instead of retorting immediately, Neuvillette takes a deep breath, his expression masking any hint of embarrassment.

“Clueless, you say?” Neuvillette finally speaks, tone measured and composed, betraying none of the incredulity he feels. “I must confess, Lady Furina, that the matters of matrimony are a far cry from being my forte. This, you should know. Legal precedents and judicial matters occupy my mind more than the intricacies of… wedding bands, but I am always open to knowing more about it, shall you wish it.”

He pauses, fixing her with a steely gaze. “If you seek to enlighten me on the customs of matrimony, I am willing to listen. But I must admit, my expertise lies elsewhere, and I make no pretence otherwise. And as for sedation, I'm afraid that's not within my purview.”

She raises a quizzical brow. “Since when did you grow a bite? It’s that girl, isn’t it? Ever so sharp in her words…”

The Chief Justice almost cracks a smile at how this is almost the third time she’s deviated from the topic. “You seem surprised. To be with someone is to grow their mannerisms, and it was you who placed the both of us in such a predicament, was it not?”

“You!— Anyway… If everything’s all in order, the wedding should be set in place by next week. The venue, invitations, broadcasting channels will all be settled; you just need to ready your suit and her dress. Sounds fun? Ah — and don’t worry, my dearest Neuvillette, I will get that ring for you,” she says, satisfaction laced in her tone; she is a little too proud of herself almost, a familiar smugness seeping through her grin. 

Neuvillette stiffens. “Next week? But it hasn’t even been a month. What about the other conditions we have not yet fulfilled?”

“By next week, I mean the end of it — so basically in two weeks time. Do you think I do not know my schedule? You seem to be in a rush. Do you so desperately want to rid yourself of her? My, I knew she was insufferable, but I never thought that you of all people would want her gone so terribly.”

He stands abruptly from his chair and the usual scraping noise is muted from the blue carpet that sits under his feet. Though the sound itself isn't a surprise, the shift in demeanour he dons is extremely out of the ordinary (he does not seem to have estimated how loud this action might be; the slight wince of his eye says just as much). “But it comes with reason, Lady Furina. She has been under this job for barely under a month and a half — and you expect her to be reasonable, when she hasn’t a clue on how to navigate her new post. The first thing you think to do is pin every mistake on her, belittle her in her face and behind her back. Have you ever paused to think that maybe she is ‘insufferable’ because you push all the wrong buttons? I must say, I had hoped for better from someone of your stature, Lady Furina.”

The two of them stand face to face, as if awaiting the other’s response, and none of them seem partial in doing so. 

Knock.

Neuvillette’s attention diverts almost immediately, staring daggers at whoever stands behind that door; Furina seems unfazed, too unbothered to turn around and let curiosity get the best of her. The sharp intake of breath he takes stings his nose, and he absentmindedly pinches the bridge of it. 

He brings a fist to his mouth and clears his throat. “Do you mind waiting a moment?”

“...But it is a letter.”

Neuvillette steals a puzzled glance at Furina, and finds that she seems just as blur as he is. He does not speak to her before striding down to the door.

He opens it a little, allowing a little of the man’s face to peek through the slit. “Who is it from?”

“It’s addressed as…” The young man takes a closer look at the letter, an index finger skimming under the letters. “a lipstick stain?”

Neuvillette looks closer, and notices a slightly mauve outline on the bottom of the envelope. He would have brushed it off if it had been anything other, but he realises that the lipstick shade is the one you use most frequently, and so he has a change of heart.

The clouds part and he feels the heat of the blooming sun against his back.

“Oh? May I have it, then?” Neuvillette asks, hand slowly extending through the gap in the door. He does not know if the boy is terrified or is simply at a loss for words, but before he can thank him, he’s disappeared.

The Iudex turns around, met with Furina peering over his shoulder. “What was that? Who is it from?” Furina returns to her height when her heels touch the ground.

“It is simply none of your business,” he states, brushing past her. “My private affairs are to be kept under lock and key, and that includes you.”

Though he does not see her, he senses her swift pivot on her heel, the rustle of fabric accompanying her movement. He feels her eyes boring into his back, her gaze fixing on him with a sort of intense scrutiny he can almost feel prickling on his skin.

“None of my business? I know it’s from that fiancée of yours, and you want to hide it from me?”

He does not bother to face her.“Why is everything that pertains to her required to be known to you?”

“Well — I made this arrangement happen, so I should be entitled to your dealings.”

“Entitled to my dealings you are not, Lady Furina. You spend so much time on this… ‘marriage’, you haven’t a clue what to do about the problem actually at hand, do you?”

“I do know what to do, Chief Justice.” Her voice is stern, but Neuvillette does not buy into the farce; he hears very well the quiver of her voice under that facade.

“Well then. Enlighten me.” He gazes imploringly out of his window, fingers tapping impatiently against the nape of his neck. 

“Many things, Chief Justice, many things. I do not know if I can list them from the sheer abundance of my aid —”

He cranes his neck to glance over his shoulder, his body keeping firm in its place. “So much so that you cannot name one? I’m afraid you take me for a fool.”

“Nothing seems to satisfy you! If you so desperately want me to name one — fine. I’ve had informants bring me statistics on the concentration of Primordial Sea Water and its molecular structure, and so far I have received nothing of it. Happy?”

“And what will you do with it?”

“I… do not know yet. But I will find a way.”

He pivots on his heel, using the cupboard behind him as something to lean on. “You must make haste, then, even if it means compromising this marriage arrangement. We can fend off for ourselves, we need not your constant mixing in it.”

“But it is also my duty to supervise the two of you. I put this command in order, so it is my responsibility.”

“It appears to me that you have distorted your priorities. Each moment spent here further jeopardises lives, so, please get a move on.”

She heaves a defeated sigh, realising there is no point in arguing with him any further. “Alright, alright, just — do one thing for me.”

“...Go on.”

“Talk to her about it. The wedding, I mean.”

He hums in response, and although he does not say it, Furina senses that he has had it with her.

“Nice talking to you, Neuvillette.” Her face lights up with mischief. “Though, it would help if you did try to woo her.”

“Lady Furina —! Please.”

“Okay, okay!”

As she takes it as her cue to leave, he finally returns to the side of his seat, still standing as he watches her slide shamelessly through the opening of the doors.

He slips into the cushion of his chair, and opens the envelope, making sure to not ruin its wax seal.

Dear Monsieur Neuvillette,

I would just like to inform you that the reasoning for my absence is caused by the affairs of last night. I have gone through great turmoil to have this letter received, and so in the case that you do not reply I will simply assume you haven’t received or bothered to read this letter (and I will, fortunately, sever all ties with Fontaine and leave). Don’t let this ail you, I am not going through hell and back to write this; just simply wasting away in the confines of my bed. 

If any matter of significance arises that pertains to my attention, I urge you to promptly write a subsequent missive either preceding or succeeding your reply to this.

p.s: If that woman just so happens to be by your side, I suggest you hide this letter. Please and thank you.

Sincerely,

Madame (Name)

A faint smile teases at the corners of his lips. Had it been any earlier, Furina would’ve certainly made a fuss of the contents. Thank the heavens he stalled her from doing so. He proceeds promptly, dipping his quill into the inkwell to start on pristine parchment; yet, the nib lingers excessively at one point, causing the ink to gather in an unwelcome pool.

“Oops. This certainly won’t do.”

Neuvillette crumples the paper into a ball, and tosses it into the bin. He reaches for another piece of paper and starts anew.

Dear Madame (Name),

I hope this letter finds you well. Please do inform me of when you return to full health, for Lady Furina has me in a little of a time crunch with this arrangement, unfortunately. Do not let this ail you too much, she has rescheduled the upcoming events we were supposed to attend to take place after the wedding ceremony. It is not my intent to leave you in the dark about this, and so if you have any qualms, do not hesitate to send me another letter.

Would you be willing to discuss this matter further over lunch, if you're well enough? However, I am open to any other suggestions you might have in mind.

p.s: Rest assured, your privacy is of utmost importance, and I will ensure the confidentiality of this communication.

Yours sincerely,

Monsieur Neuvillette

____

You suggested the Hotel Debord, and so Neuvillette complied.

The two of you sit facing each other, with your back comfortably settled against the cushioned chair while he occupies a normal one; he had insisted that you take the more secure seat, and you think this is because he thinks you’re too weak to fend for yourself (and though it is somewhat true, you cannot claim you aren’t slightly stung).

"Feeling better?"

You offer a weak smile. “Maybe if the weather was sunnier… It’s been nothing but cats and dogs the whole time I was recovering. Ever heard of the famous Fontainian proverb? ‘Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry’?”

Neuvillette crosses his arms, the folds of his sleeves growing prominent. “Yes, I don’t know if there is anyone who hasn’t heard of it — and apologies for the rain.”

“You sure do have an affinity for apologising for things out of control don’t you, Iudex?”

“Ah, consider it a con of mine.”

Perhaps it is but a figment of your imagination, but the man in front of you appears a little tenser than usual, his posture a pinch too upright. The clip that tidies a lock of his hair out of the way is a little askew, and the blue that lines his eyes appears to be smudged, as if rubbed vigorously. That is all you can take from his appearance, however, for the rest is shrouded from the rather large menu in his hands. You stare at the leather bound booklet, waiting for him to make his decision. It takes everything in you to not tease him about it.

He puts the menu down and you take it as your cue to call for the waiter. The both of you seem to have the same idea, and now both of your hands are raised in unison. Neuvillette shoots you a look you cannot discern. “You needn't trouble yourself with raising your hand; I can manage it.”

You quirk a brow. “Why, ‘cause you’re the Iudex? I do not blame you; given your esteemed position, one would naturally be inclined to prioritise you, wouldn’t you agree?” Your palm slowly settles against the cool surface of the table, your gaze remaining inquisitively fixed to the man in front of you.  He averts his eyes and you think he finds the prolonged scrutiny a little too unsettling. How peculiar. 

“Do not disparage yourself, mon coeur,” he says, but you get the impression he’s hesitating, as if treading on eggshells. The pet name does not glide off the tongue correctly, likely due to the days apart — but one thing you can be sure of is that his tone lacks the velvety smoothness of his usual cadence. 

You reply with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Never said I was.”

Before a dispute can arise, a waiter swiftly attends to your table. You surmise that the boy is a little under the age of eighteen, considering how he appears somewhat squeamish upon seeing both the Iudex and Head of Civil Affairs at one table, both eyeing him like prey —or so you imagine.

Looking at Neuvillette you gesture with your head for him to go first, but he waves his hand in your direction, prompting you. Your gaze dips to the text of the menu, fingers skimming for the meal you had agreed upon a few minutes prior, and all of a sudden it feels as though you cannot find it. The familiar wording catches your eye and you flick your finger against the laminated paper and turn to the waiter. 

“Tripes du Port, please — but would you mind cutting it down on the carrots? Thank you.” The boy nods, scribbling in a manner you think is caused from your stare alone, but maybe it is a desperation to have the order down to its preference.

“Alright then. What about you, kind sir?” 

Neuvillette perks at the acknowledgement, and his finger dies against the name of the meal he had his eyes on. He flashes a smile, places the menu down, then relaxes in his seat. “One Consomme Purette will do it.”

“What about drinks?”

Is that even a question? A question it may well be — the thought of opting for tea immediately crosses your mind, but the days spent in your apartment indulging solely in brew to numb the burning has certainly dulled your palate to the earthy flavours on your tongue. So you select the other, equally delectable drink. A nonsensical part of you thinks it’ll wash away any drowsiness left of the healing stitch on your side.

“Oopsies, that completely flew over my head. I’d like a cup of Fonta.” The waiter moves to write the order on his notepad and looks up from it to prod the man in front of you for his order.

As his eyes shift their attention, you cannot help but follow them. You do not know if the waiter notices it, but Neuvillette is awfully apprehensive, revising the drink portion of the menu; his eyes scroll from top to the bottom, and he repeats this routine more times than you can count before lowering the booklet in hand and turning slightly away from you. You assume his drink would be something decadent, a niche flavour of water you cannot tell apart from its infinite counterparts — but no, you are proven quite wrong.

“Make it two, please,” he asks softly, oblivious to your jaw coming loose at its hinges. Since when was this man ever partial to Fonta? You recall the glasses of water laying at the edge of his desk in the Palais, consistent, but never forgotten; the cups always appeared refilled, no trace of dust collecting at the handles. 

Everyone has a change of preference, of course. It is not like everyone can evade the relentless tug of change. 

Smiling, you watch as the waiter swiftly removes the menus from the table, granting you more space.

The waiter still lingers by a vacant table, and you sense his eyes on you, searing indelibly into the side of your face. Please stop staring, is what you scream into the void. 

Neuvillette shifts his attention to you with a kind smile. “The letter you sent… was the lipstick all that necessary?”

“Oh, darling, you certainly seem flustered about it. You are, aren’t you?”

You shoot him a dark glare, and he shuffles awkwardly in his seat, preparing himself.  “Indeed, it's become a cherished sight on my desk. I am now reminded of you whenever I am working — which is most times.”

This incites a laugh from you and it seems to tug at Neuvillette as well. “Do not say such sweet words. I’m sure you’ve received romantic letters from other suitors in your lifetime.” This ‘lie’ truly begs the question: how in Teyvat is he not married? As much as you do not find him attractive, his looks are far from mediocre, and given his dedication to his work, surely there must be a certain demographic of women who fawn over him over tea. You almost shrivel up at the thought. 

“Are romantic letters really romantic if their receiver thinks it to be dross? Come now, mon cherie, I hold each syllable from your pen in greater esteem than reams of lacklustre prose penned by would-be admirers.”

“Oh, stop it. Though… I suppose you are right.”

He tilts his head and a strand falls from its part. “I am very rarely wrong.” 

“Now you’re just flaunting your position as Iudex.” Your voice is still as soft as you can render it, but you take that Neuvillette takes the hint of warning in your voice. Don’t get too ahead of yourself now.

“Certainly you take me in a higher regard than to think of it characteristic of me to openly boast of my role as the Chief Justice, hm?”

Though you do find it out of character, you do not think it is completely out of the equation. “You tell me.”

He chuckles and his broad, padded shoulders rack slightly with laughter. “But maybe you could do with a more discreet way of addressing yourself?” He leans forward in his seat, and you instinctively turn your head so your ear is closer. “I might just mistake your letter out of the pile of other letters addressed with… lipstick.”

“So what you’re saying is I’m not distinguishable enough.” You raise an inquisitive brow.

“No, not at all. It is just that I’d hate for word to get around and all of a sudden I am sifting through vats of paper trying to determine which letter is yours.”

Your eyes lift in amusement. “So you do agree. You have women chasing after you?”  This conversation is by far the most tacit of interactions you’ve had with the Iudex, and it does feel rather odd. You cannot wait for the pack of hounds that stare daggers into to leave and deem you as invalid prey. 

Neuvillette seems to want the same thing, too, and so he leaves the question open-ended (you find that the silent reply is better than if he answered). An excuse to continue this already prolonged silence comes in the form of two cups of Fonta, and for that you are infinitely glad.

The person serving isn’t the same boy, and instead it is a girl you presume to be older, a haphazardly tied bun tucked away under her hat. She places two coasters on both of your right’s, and the cold cups come to sit in the centre of them, condensate dripping off the sides. 

You take a greedy sip, making sure to eye the man in front of you as your gaze forces him to mirror your action. A slight wince teases at his eyes when he forces a gulp down. Foolish man. 

A glint from his ring finger reflects in the morning sun and you can’t help but notice — a ring?

“Since when did you fancy yourself a ring?”

He places the cup down to fidget with the band. “Oh, this? Lady Furina said I had to wear one for solidarity’s sake.”

That blue does not suit him. And My God did she have terrible taste in jewellery. “That’s… great..”

The indulgence is briefly interrupted by the same group of angsty teenagers that whizz by, buzzing with laughter. An opportune moment to slouch your posture. 

The bubbly farce you put in front of the group of people dissipates (though, it is no easy feat — you are staring at the person who carried you home, after all).“So. What was it about the marriage you wanted so desperately to discuss?”

He takes a few seconds to take in the question and replies promptly: “The itinerary, of course.”

“Itinerary for what?” “The wedding.”

“Archons above, I completely forgot about that. That brat expects us to arrange everything ourselves? The invitations, venue, date and time… All for us to manage?” Your tone brims with malice and you almost allow your eye to twitch.

His eyes widen. “No, no, she said she would take care of those aspects, you need not worry.”  

“Sounds about right. What of the invitations though? Does she miraculously know who the VIPs are or…”

“I could write a list of who you’d fancy to invite. Name it and I’ll see to it being done.”

You bring your hand up and flex your fingers, and you make a mental note of who you’d prefer to go; your fingers ultimately count up to three. “Let’s see. Clorinde, that Duke from the Fortress, and I guess any of Clorinde’s other close acquaintances. I’ll get her to pick.” You observe the way his eyes flit away from yours, and onto another group of laughing colleagues that have caught themselves in a laughing fit. You don’t let it take away from the camera you see pointed at you through your peripheral vision.

Take 2.

My, is this getting exhausting.

“And what of you, handsome? Have anyone in mind?” Subjecting yourself to a strained smile, your hearing sharpens to the collective, though hushed gaps that weave through the restaurant. Peculiar how these people act as though they’ve never seen any medium of romance. 

He seems to have choked on something, but you aren’t sure on what, exactly. The table is empty. “H-Handsome? That certainly is a new one…”

You bring your voice down to a chastising whisper. “Answer the question. Do not take it to heart, Monsieur Neuvillette; I certainly do not think you are at all handsome.”

“I… uh, well — I do not have anyone in mind. I only ever converse with very few people.”

You cannot help but smirk. Not only is it so easy to fool the people, but to have Neuvillette react just as much says that you are doing a pretty good job. Ah, Fontainians and their baseless pursuit for spectacle.

The Iudex attempts to cover his blunder and asks a follow-up question. “Might I ask if you’d be partial to any of your family members to be invited? If the reason happens to be that they are currently outstationed, I can subsidise their trip here.”

You feel a lump form in your throat. Hands that were once perched comfortably in dominance slide immediately under the table, and you press your nails against the inner lines of your palm. An expression of confidence you once had falters, and it brings you all the effort in you to keep a good impression.“No. I am not partial to the idea. I’d really prefer if you choose not to bring this topic up again.” Clueless on how you managed to sound collected, you press your lips and force yourself to stay shut lest you let something slip.

“Of course. I apologise if I have offended you, Madame.” His voice trails off in volume the further he says it. You two are left staring at each other with words that can only be spoken in their absence — and yet, you do not understand what is being said behind those stormy eyes that rile yours in return. Perhaps he is cursing you for being brutish, for the quick shift in your ‘act’. But what he does not know is that you aren’t.

Your jaw ticks, and your heels drum on the marble flooring while you wait for the group of people to disperse.

“...Don’t worry about it. It’s just that —” you cut yourself short, aware of the crescendo of footsteps that sound from behind you; you can almost smell the strong aroma of food, but why is it sweet?

“Monsieur Neuvillette! Madame (Name)!” A familiar, comforting voice comes in with two plates of 16-slices-a-day cake. 

The two of you eye the Melusine incredulously. “Sedene?” is a question you both pose in unison.

“Yes, that’s me! I couldn't help but recognise two familiar faces. Say, Monsieur Neuvillette, this is the first time I’ve seen you here in a while. And I go here everyday,” She looks at you with a playful twinkle in her eye. “So is it a special occasion? Or as they say, a ‘date’? Don’t quote me on this, please, I coined the mantra from Sigewinne.”

He grins and answers. “Ye—”

“No. Just here to talk business. Am I right, mon coeur?”

He takes another forced sip of Fonta. The level of liquid in his cup has but moved. “Why, yes. We are currently discussing the affairs of our wedding. Would you like to come?”

“I would be delighted to see you two get married. A profession of love, as people come to say.”

You accept the cake eagerly, grinning. “Thank you, Sedene, really.”

“That reminds me… I haven’t seen you around the Palais in a while. Are you alright?” You wave her away in jest. “Yes, just down with a cold. I am just about fully recovered now, don’t worry. I am a little dizzy, though.” Your hand instinctively cradles your side, a subtle shield against the discomfort. You dismiss the dizziness with a casual mention of your 'sickness,' though a keen observer might discern the real culprit: an ill-judged increase in the vial's dosage. Not the wisest choice on a day filled with duties and engagements. Perhaps you should’ve ‘picked your poison’ another time.

Missing the concerned look given by Neuvillette, you give another weary smile.

Sedene gestures openly now that her hands are empty. “Now — I must get going, so please take this cake as a gift.”

Both Neuvillette and you wave as she skips off into the exit. 

“So. Where were we?”

a/n: was rewatching an archon quest playthru n forgot how cute sedene is!! she's the sweetest

taglist : @sek0ya, @souxiesun, @11111112222222sblog

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Celestia-sent (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Prequel Part 1 Part 2

Summary: There's a weird guy lying outside your house.

Warnings: Vulgarities, food (stew) , mentions of injuries , crying, reader mistakes al haitham as a old guy lmao, reader lives in vimara village, spoliers for al haitham's lore,

Word count: <1.7k words

Inspired by: -

Author's note: it was kinda therapeutic to write al haitham's part- the first half. not sure why. it just felt so easy. i miss my grandma. i should visit her once i feel better.

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

He's just lying there, faced down. His grey hair sticks out painfully against the brown dirt path, and you fight the urge to squat down to take a closer look. It's a shade of grey you have never seen before. It kinda looks like the moon.

Another old drunkard, you think. There's been many of them recently in Vimara village. Ever since the scandal in the Akademiya three months ago, Port Ormos had crashed. The whole port is a mess- what once was Sumeru's most efficient had become disorganised and stagnant overnight. Now, it's akin to a ghost town- especially after the mass layoff of port employees.

Trading has halted completely, the Wikala Funduq citing 'awaiting instructions from Akademiya higher ups'. But so far, no one from the Akademiya has come down to remedy the situation and help revitalise Port Ormos.

As a result, private traders can't do business, and trading companies can't do business, so no one is making money anymore. Traders from Inazuma and Snezhnaya had stopped docking in Sumeru. In a couple more months, Port Ormos would lose its position as the central trading hub of Teyvat. Sumeru will lose a terrifying portion of its national income. It will only get worse from there.

Vimara village was outraged at the mass layoff. Most port employees lived there, after all. In an instant, families lost all sources of income. The village community had tried to help each other, sharing food and whatever they could with each other. But this was only a temporary solution. The stress of unemployment is beginning to weigh heavy on many, which is why many have taken to drinking recently.

Which is why you aren't surprised that a guy's passed out on the ground. What was surprising is that you had never seen this dude before.

He's wearing expensive clothes, you note. He's definitely not from the village. Clad in green, he'd almost look like a plant if not for his grey hair. There's a cape hanging off his back, and on a shoulder is what you think is a vision.

Damn, you wonder. What kind of guy is this?

Curiosity gets the better of you. Squatting down next to the old guy's side, you lay your groceries down. Strangely, you don't smell any alcohol on him. So, not a drunkard?

"Hey, uh… sir?" you shake his shoulder, brushing your fingers over his vision. It's cool to the touch, the green orb emitting a gentle glow amidst the fading daylight. "Wakey wakey, mister?"

The man doesn't wake. You sigh. What are you going to do? It's almost nighttime. You can't just leave him here. I mean, you could, but still…

There's a pleasant aroma in the air, accompanied by the sound of sizzling oil. Onions, Harra spice… stir-fried with snapdragon leaves?

It reminds Al Haitham of his grandmother's cooking. Maybe she's making dinner now. He's pretty hungry.

Huh. Now that he thinks of it, it has been a long time since he's had dinner with her. When was the last time he even spoke to her? Or visited her?

He has so much to tell her.

He has to tell her about his job as a Scribe. Well, for now, he's the ACTING Grand Sage. Not for long, though. He'll make sure of that.

He's got to tell her about the stunt he pulled to save Lesser Lord Kusanali. She'd enjoy that tale. Probably scold him for being so reckless as well, though.

Yeah, he'll do that. Maybe he'll ask for a second serving of rice too. He's really, really hungry.

Then, he'll ask for advice on how to handle the whole shitshow that he has been assigned to run. She'll know what to do. She always does. She'll teach him how to manage the infinite number of impossible tasks thrown his way.

She'll comfort him. She'll tell him that in no time, he'll be back to his usual job: stress-free and not responsible for saving the nation from a crisis that may result in future generations growing up in poverty and political instability.

She'll hear him out as he rants about the mess Azar and those fuckers ("Language, Al Haitham!") had left him. And how everyone was so reliant on the Akasha terminals and the sages' leadership that when all that disappeared, they were clueless. They can't function anymore. Systems fall apart. People stop working. And because of that, he has to do everything on his own, and he's so tired and-

The sizzling sound has stopped. Is it dinner time already?

But he doesn't want to get up. Not now. Just ten more minutes, please?

There's a faint scraping sound. A spatula against a wok. If he tries hard enough, he can hear a plopping sound. So, it's a stew. He hopes it's Sabz Meat stew. That's his favourite.

How long has it been since he had a homemade meal?

Footsteps. Ok, no ten minutes, then. He'll get up.

Wincing, he sits up. His whole body aches. His knees feel sore. That's weird. He hadn't fallen or hit anything, but he feels bruises forming all over his arms and legs.

Trying to adjust to the bright light, Al Haitham slowly opens his eyes. He's in a small living room. Huh, he doesn't remember his grandmother moving. She never had this couch he was resting on either. Or the wooden coffee table in front. Or that many Liyue magazines.

"Ah, you're awake!"

That's not his grandmother's voice. Wait, what did her voice sound like again?

Al Haitham whips his head towards the voice so fast he pulls a neck muscle. Groaning, he reaches for his neck, massaging it before attempting to turn around, slowly this time.

"Hey, relax!"

There's a soft click from behind, and then frantic footsteps. Someone runs around the couch.

It's a woman. Not his grandmother.

Oh.

Oh yeah. Of course, it isn't her.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Hah, what was he doing, dreaming? Someone like him? Dreaming?

"Uh…sir?"

Of course, it isn't her. The dead can't come back to life. He's alone now. He has been for the past decade.

"…sir?"

He'll always be alone. Now, and for the foreseeable future. If he can even ensure that Sumeru still has one.

There's a hot sensation on his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. It's the woman again. This time with a bowl in her hand, holding it right in front of him.

He'd recognise that aroma anywhere. It's Sabz Meat stew.

"Um, I'm not sure what's going on," she says, placing the bowl into his hands. "But why don't you eat first?"

She pulls the coffee table closer towards him and walks back behind the couch to retrieve cutlery from the kitchen and a plate of rice. Laying them on the coffee table, she then sits on the floor, watching him.

"I didn't add lemons, but I can get you some if you want?" she asks when he doesn't move.

A minute passes. Al Haitham can't move. He can't, and he honestly doesn't want to.

What's the point of moving? Everything moves too fast. He'll never catch up. There's too much. There will always be proposals he can't clear in time. A question he can't answers right now. A policy he needs time to understand. Time that he doesn't have. Time that Sumeru can't afford to lose. He'll always be behind. And because of that, Sumeru will fall behind. Because of him.

It's almost funny. Before all this, he had never worried about being behind. He barely worried about anything.

"Come on," she prompts, taking a spoonful of rice and handing it to him when he still doesn't move. "Eat. You'll feel better after you eat."

Al Haitham doesn't have the energy to resist or deny her. Taking the spoon, he dips it into the bowl, letting the rice soak up some of the stew before lifting it to his mouth.

And suddenly, he's 19 again. He's in the dining room, having dinner with his grandmother again. She's lecturing him about spending too much time alone at home. Again.

"You may not understand now, Al Haitham. But there are people out there- good people. People willing to listen, be patient with you, and shoulder burdens with you. Comfort you."

Al Haitham reaches over to scoop another spoonful of rice. His eyes feel funny. So does his nose.

"You are never alone, child. I just want you to know that. "

Am I really?

Then just send one person, please. I'm waiting.

I've been waiting for a long time now.

"And one day, you may find someone that you can bare your soul to-you do have a soul, child. Everyone has one- no, yours isn't as dark as that 'black coffee'."

His vision is blurry now. With hydro. How strange. He chomps down another spoonful of stew. It's delicious. He hasn't had comfort food like this in a long, long time.

Just one sign. Please. I can't do this anymore.

"But until then, grandma is here to stick by you, hm? Until you stop being stubborn and go make friends!" 

The woman shifts in her seat on the floor. In his peripheral, he sees her reach over to a box, pulling out tissues.

She moves closer to him, a little bit hesitantly. But when she realises that he isn't moving away, she gently dabs his eyes with the tissue.

"There, there?" she comforts awkwardly. She then reaches over to pat his back. "It's gonna be ok. Just let it out."

And that's all it takes. It's so weird. Hydro Tears begin to flow freely. He chokes back a sniffle.

She doesn't stop patting his back. The weight of her palm is comforting- almost grounding.

He cries. In the presence of an absolute stranger, he cries ten years worth of tears in a night.

Later on, as he drifts off back into the realm of sleep to the rhythmic pats on his back, Al Haitham wonders if this is what his grandmother meant.

Maybe there really are people that are willing to stand by someone like him.

Join the Taglist!

[coldshare]

A word To build a scenario around... Steam

thank you for the prompt, anon! ♡ here it is (with some gratuitous references to contagion... you know me)

-

a character who's the type to prioritize self care over everything... who lives luxuriously, the type to resort to everything from expensive spa days to unwind, the type who's familiar with every natural remedy in the book, because really, even the slightest ailment is a perfect excuse to take it easy and even pamper themselves a little bit

the same character who feels themselves coming down with a terrible, incredibly contagious cold. but for whatever reason - maybe their boss urges them to come in (it's just a small cold, after all, and so much work still needs to get done), or maybe because they're just so confident in their home remedies to do the trick - they head to work anyways.

their desk becomes a mini pharmacy for the day - soft lotion tissues, three different tins of tea specifically meant to relieve cold and flu symptoms, herbal cough drops, a few cooling salves for their red, irritated nose, hot packs for their sinuses, a humidifier for the congestion. after all... if they're going to have to work with this cold, why not make their time here as comfortable as possible?

but still, despite every remedy, their cold turns out to be annoyingly persistent - they're just so congested they can hardly breathe through their nose, plagued with a tickle (not severe enough to catalyze a sneeze, in most cases, but present enough to be very distracting) in their nose which won't leave them alone no matter what. even worse, every sneeze is irritatingly unproductive; it does nothing to relieve the tickle - in fact, it almost seems to make it worse...

they make it to halfway through the afternoon where they decide they can't stand it anymore - they're not feeling too terrible, but this is certainly annoying, and that's enough of a reason for them to put an end to it once and for good. breathing in steam can be therapeutic, and even better, it's supposed to relieve congestion, right?

after a few moments consideration, they swipe the small vial of lavender essential oil off their desk. they've never been fond of this particular vial compared to the other essential oils they own - it always leaves them sniffly and teary eyed - but perhaps that would be a welcome side effect, just this once.

from there, they head into the break room and boil some water using the coffee machine (so what if they end up sneezing a few times, all over the coffee machine, misting the company countertops? it's not like they can control when they sneeze... with this cold, every sneeze just sneaks up on them; it's not their fault that they're not always able to cover.) they pour the boiling water out into a large bowl, drop a few drops of the lavender essential oil inside, and take a seat at one of the tables in the break room, which - aside from them - is thankfully empty.

the first breath of hot, fragrant steam does wonders for their congestion, which they can feel start to loosen for the first time, making their nose run. they haven't brought any tissues with them... perhaps that was an oversight, but the steam is just so relieving, they can't just stop now...!

the next few breaths, they can really start to smell the lavender, and... oh, the tickle in their nose sharpens with such intensity it takes them off guard.

"heh... hEhh... HIH-! hheh-Hhehh... heh... hehH..."

god, their nose tickles so badly; it's practically begging for relief. they lean their head down, taking another deep breath in through their nose.

"hehH... hehh-HEH-!" fuck, so close, just a little more... "hheh... HehhH.... hh-heh-Hehh-HEHh-!! HEHH'IIHHSHIEEEW!"

it's as if that first sneeze completely opens up the floodgates, snapping them forward - only for them to inhale a huge breath of hot steam. they wipe their nose on one palm, but even the slightest pressure against their nose seems to increase the tickle tenfold. everything smells like so strongly of lavender, it's - HEHh-! making them - heh-HEHh - h-have to -

"HEHH'ISSSHHIEw! hHAH'IITSHuUH! heh... heh-hEhh-HEHh-hHEH'TCHIIIEEEW! hH... hHIh! hahh-HAh-AHH.... AHH'IIIITTSCHHUueE!"

every sneeze absolutely drenches the table beneath them. they lift their hands to halfheartedly shield the first couple of sneezes, but with the number of particles that escape through their fingertips regardless, does it really even matter? it's not like anyone else is in the break room, after all. they turn their head aside to keep from spraying the table (even if all that accomplishes is spread their cold in the other direction.)

besides... don't they deserve to sneeze after having not been able to sneeze all morning, aside from the few terribly unsatisfying sneezes they'd had to put up with? isn't it only right that they get relief from this annoying cold as soon as possible? they need to get all the viruses out of their system to get rid of this cold... each messy, spraying sneeze sets them closer on the path to recovery. the tickle in their nose is really just there to help them sneeze out their cold as soon as possible, so why not coax it even further, make this process a little faster? really, they're doing their body a favor as they breathe in more steam, as they give in to the tickle in their nose, as they sneeze and sneeze and sneeze...

(maybe that's what they think, but they've left the air so utterly saturated with their cold viruses that it's no wonder that half the office comes down with the same miserable, messy cold in the weeks following, leading to more than a few dirty looks... after all, they brought their cold to work, and they hadn't exactly been subtle about it)

[nychthemeron-rants]

Single Mom AU pt 3

Laia’s (Laios’) Timeline

Pt. 1 (AU Summary) Pt.2 (Name Guide) Pt. 4 (Chilchuck's Timeline)

Age 13- tried to disguise herself as a boy and join the army to escape ridicule from both her father and the other kids at school. Was caught and returned home near immediately. This resulted in severe punishments from her parents and even more social isolation from her peers. Her close relationship with her little brother, Fanil, is what got her through this dark period in her life.

Age 14- Encouraged Fanil to go to the magic school their parents have been threatening to send him to. She knew that since Fanil was their only son they didn't want to actually send him and were hoping that the threat would be enough to get Fanil to “act normal” but Laia knew Fanil could use this as an opportunity to escape and make something better of his life than inheriting their father's position.

Age 16- Reached adulthood and was married off to Dimar, the 19 year old eldest son of a wealthy merchant from their village. Dimar's family only agreed to the marriage because of Laia’s status and the chief's daughter and eldest child. While Dimar had heard of Laia's peculiar ways, he also knew she was proficient in many of the skills a “good wife” needed to have, and he considered her good looking enough to be fine with the arrangement. Laia wasn't thrilled but was raised to expect an arranged marriage and was honestly relieved that her husband seemed kind and was of a similar age.

Age 17- Her daughter, Lind, was born. It was shortly after the birth of their daughter, that Dimar's feelings towards the marriage turned from passive contentedness to resentment, as the added responsibility of raising a child with a woman he did not love began to weigh on him. Laia noticed her husband growing distant but blamed it on the exhaustion of having a newborn (despite Dimar doing little to help with Lind). 

Age 19- Dimar's resentment towards Laia and, by extension, Lind, for supposedly holding him back and saddling him with responsibility at a young age and leaving him unfulfilled boils over. He divorces Laia suddenly, leaving their village without informing anyone where he’s gone. He even, vindictively, sold their home expecting her and Lind to simply move back in with her parents. 

Laia, instead, took this as an opportunity to finally leave her village and try to make a life for herself and her daughter thats better than what she's experienced thus far. Obviously her parents were strongly against this, but being an adult now they couldn't do anything about it.

She felt only mild irritation at Dimar's action as she also felt no satisfaction with her life as his wife, had never loved him, and again, saw this as a chance for a new life 

Age 19 cont. - Made it to the Magic academy to see Fanil before she picked where to settle. Besides, Fanil had never had the chance to actually meet his niece before, which Laia wanted to remedy ASAP. 

Fanil convinced her to settle in the town next to the school so they can see each other regularly, which she did, picking up odd-jobs to fund the small apartment she was renting.

Age 22 - Odd jobs stop paying as well and living expenses get dire. Fanil suggests they start adventuring while they ask the school to look after Lind while they're gone. Laia is hesitant at first, considering Lind is only 5, but relents when Fanil asks his best friend and teacher Marcel to help them find long term babysitters for  Lind for cheap. They then join the gold stripping party.

(Marcel is EXTREMELY against this idea as he doesn't want Fanil to leave the school so close to graduation, but relents because he knows Fanil is going to go regardless, and knows that Lind being at the school means he HAS to come back. Still low-key judges Laia, whom he has never met, for being so much of a hot mess she has to “kidnap” her little brother away from his education and dump her daughter on the school.)

Age 23- Leaves the gold stripping party and forms her own party with Fanil. 

Lind, now 7, is old enough to enroll in the Magic Academy, allowing Laia and Fanil to go on longer Adventures as they don't need to go back to the school quite as often. (Both still write Lind as often as possible and visit frequently, as well as Laia sending most of her money back to Lind)

Laia discovers that Chilchuck is also adventuring for the sake of her daughters as a single mother. This happens after Chil discovers Laia quietly crying over a letter from her daughter. In order to comfort her, she explains that she understands her feelings because she has kids to look after too. However, Chil doesn't specify her daughters’ ages and tells Laia to keep her family info quiet.

Age 24 - Marcel joins the party to look after Fanil and try to convince him to come back, after a year ensuring Lind is adjusting well to the school. Decides to stay for research and Fanil.

Age 26 - Plot begins. Fanil is swallowed by the red dragon and with the weight of having her (now 9 year old) daughter on the surface waiting for her safe return, she ventures back into the dungeon with no provision to save her brother.

[yandere-fics]

♡ How She Acts When She First Brings You Home ♡

(sorry I struggled to end it, I hope you still like it, this is also funny because I do not eat lo mein anymore, I don't eat any noodles or bread.)

You'd nearly crapped your pants yesterday when The Boss spotted you at the office and told you that you were her mate and you would be moving in with her the following day. She wasn't there the next morning when the security team helped you move your stuff into her penthouse but there were little sticky notes everywhere explaining things, perhaps she thought you'd have an easier time adapting to your new home without your new mate lurking over your shoulder but either way you did appreciate having time for yourself before you were thrust into being her mate.

That peace did have to come to an end though because sometime around 4 PM she knocked on the door lightly calling out, "My Beloved, I'm going to come inside now, okay?" Someone might think you were her new cat with how she was treating you, stepping lightly and talking quietly to not spook you.

"H-hello Ma'am?" You stood up from the couch still surrounded by boxes because you really weren't sure where you were allowed to put your belongings. As she walked closer you realized she was so much fucking taller than you, at the very least 6'4 but her shoulders were broad which also gave her the appearance of being a behemoth, yeah she was gonna tear you apart at some point.

"It's Sawyer, Beloved. Why haven't you unpacked yet?" She tilted her head at you, she had only got you yesterday so she hadn't had time to install cameras in the pent house yet, if she had then she would have called you and asked you why you hadn't unpacked much sooner in the day. She'd need to remedy the camera problem quickly.

"I-I don't know where I'm allowed to put my stuff." You tried not to look up at her, her eyes felt like they were constantly sizing you up though that was actually just her appreciating finally having her mate in front of her.

"Anywhere you'd like, or if you prefer I can help you tomorrow?" You nodded, sure spending time with her was hard but it was your life from now on and hopefully if she helped then it would minimize the risk of you moving things too much and having her get angry at you. "First we should have dinner though, you must be hungry I'm sure."

"Yes m-ma'am, uhm S-sawyer, I'm hungry..." She hummed in approval when you said her name and went to go order dinner for the both of you.

"I ordered Lo Mein for us, Beloved, I heard this place was popular amongst the humans nowadays but I'm willing to order something else if you wish." She didn't want to let you know the place was extremely expensive and usually took a reservation to get, you likely wouldn't be comfortable with that at this stage of the relationship. "Would you care to take a bath while we wait? It may help you de-stress, I have lots of oils. Oh! Also I have bathrobes prepared so you need not worry about that part yet, My Beloved."

Okay so she was a lot more nicer than you had expected but this was likely the part where she jumped you like a wild animal and your suspicions would be confirmed right? Wrong! Because here you were ten minutes late as she rubbed scents into your hair complimenting how beautiful it was and how she appreciated you allowing her to care for it.

"Uhm Ma- Sawyer aren't you going to do something with m-me?" You had to bite the bullet if you wanted to get this over with quick, you didn't want to live in fear of when it was coming, afterall weren't supernaturals supposed to be instantly attracted to their mates, you'd heard people usually mated same day as they met and Sawyer was the boss so shouldn't her desires be increased?

"Do you want me to do something with you?" Sawyer already knew the answer was no just by your smell alone but she did hope that you would when she had gotten home, still even if she wanted you she was more than willing to wait for it.

"N-no, it's just-" "It's just you thought I'd jump your bones the moment I had you in my penthouse?" She cut you off frowning only for a moment when you nodded in response before returning to a straight face and continuing to take care of your hair. "Here come on out, Beloved."

"I'm sorry. I s-shouldn't have assumed." You took her hand as she stood up from the bath and pulled you up gently, passing you a towel and some of your pajamas.

"I'll buy you better pajamas as soon as I can get the tailor in, he's from the demon realm so it may take a week or so." She looked away from you going behind a partition to change into her clothes though you could still see the top of her head poking out. "Not to worry, I will never look unless I know you want me to."

"I'm alright, I d-don't need much." She tutted, leaning against the wall as she waited for you to finish dressing, getting an alert on her phone that her security team had placed the food on the kitchen table for the both of you. "Well maybe just one outfit." It wasn't what she wanted clearly but she did seem pleased with your response.

"The food arrived, My Beloved, shall we go eat?" She looked at your wet hair with a frown as you walked over to her letting her know you were dressed, snapping it dry with a partial grin and offering you her arm.

"Y-yeah that sounds nice." This was still shaky territory and you made sure to remind yourself that the entire time you ate, sure she was nice now during dinner but what might she be expecting come nightfall, you couldn't fall for her charms yet, this was still very much your former boss who held the entire city in her pocket. There was no such thing as too much caution with her.

"We could cuddle now that we've eaten, if you would like, My Beloved." She took your plates to the sink, setting them there for her to deal with at a later time, for now she just wanted to hold you meanwhile you wanted to skip straight to bedtime despite it being early in the day, at least that way her intentions would reveal themselves early.

"A-actually I'd like to go to sleep if that's okay with you?" Finally you could get rid of these confusing thoughts because the true her would show itself, the moment she had you on her bed, surely you would finally see for yourself what things she truly had in mind for you. Except no because she laid you very carefully in the crook of her arm and barely even seemed to want to breathe too heavily, scared of disrupting your rest.

"S-sawyer? W-why haven't you done anything?" You must be ugly, that must be it, that is the only reason a monster like her has not jumped you yet, except it didn't really make sense if you gave it even a second of thought because soulmates where supposed to be the most desirable thing to a person and she had showered you in praise and compliments the entire time she watched you eat what you suspected was highly expensive Lo Mein.

"My Beloved, I already told you, nothing will happen until you want it, so be at ease and sleep." She placed a tender kiss on the top of your head, frowning slight as you rolled around to face her. "Are you having trouble sleeping, My Beloved? We could always move elsewhere and try to fall asleep again later."

"N-no, uhm would you just talk to me while I fall asleep? I'd love to learn more about you?" She smiled and gave you a kiss on the forehead before chatting away about some goats that she used to see on the mountain where she grew up which was boring enough for you to finally drift off to sleep, finally convinced she was not in fact going to do something awful to you.

[ash-rigby]

Rockin' and Trollin' (Female Troll) [M/F] [T4T]

Featured Characters: Trans male human and a trans female cave troll. Both are adults.

Description: Gabe is enjoying a weekend alone at his aunt's cottage when he's visited by Vaux; the troll woman who lives in the area and frequents his bed when he's there. She wastes no time in starting the fun.

Contains: Oral Sex, Multiple Tongues, Grinding, Riding, Overstimulation, Mild Scent Kink, Mild Cardiophilia.

*Note For Trans Readers: Words for male genitalia are used for Gabe’s bottom growth, but the words “cunt” and “folds” are used for him a few times as well. Words like “shaft” and “length” are used for Vaux’s anatomy and she engages in penetrative sex with Gabe. This was done for trans readers who either prefer or don’t mind things being this way when they’re depicted in erotica. Please read at your own discretion.

Completion Date: October 31st, 2023

Word Count: 2518

-

There is no better remedy for the effects of day-to-day horseshit than some time on the lake. Gabe would always be grateful for his aunt who owned a small cottage and allowed him to stay there every once in a while. It provided a retreat to relax, work on his book, and just generally enjoy some peace and quiet to himself. For the most part.

While the cottage wasn’t high-end by any means, it did have running water. The luxury of a shower was particularly appreciated. Especially if one wasn’t fond of letting lake water dry on their hair and skin after a swim. Steam billowed out around Gabe’s ankles as he exited the shower. He dried off, quickly ran the towel over his hair, and wrapped it around his waist before leaving the bathroom.

The air felt comfortably cool and the hallway was dim with the fading day’s light as he made his way to the bedroom. He was startled by the sight of a figure sitting at the foot of the bed, sucking in a painful breath and letting out a choked sound of alarm. The person tittered, immediately cementing her identity and putting Gabe at ease.

He coughed. “Jesus, Vaux.”

The cave troll sat with one leg crossed over the other, a hand still lightly touching her mouth from laughing at Gabe’s expense. As usual, she was completely nude. ‘Cave-living and clothes don’t mix,’ she had once explained to him.

Gabe was used to this. It took some time before his face wasn’t constantly warm with her in sight, but he managed to establish a sense of normalcy about having a hot naked woman around the place. However, his attention was now caught by just how much she had changed in the short time since he had last seen her; all thanks to that magical troll brew of hers which he was jealously certain was far more faster-acting than his shots had been.

The most noticeable difference was that she definitely had tits now. They were small and cute; probably a perfect fit in Gabe’s hand. Or his mouth. He looked up to Vaux’s face, the smirk he met conveying that he had been caught staring. He cleared his throat.

“Nothing else going on in the woods on a Saturday night aside from scaring the shit out of me?” he asked.

Vaux’s fangs flashed as she smiled, her bat-like nose wrinkling slightly.

“Saw you swimming earlier. Thought I’d drop in,” she said. Her head tilted to the side. “Not a fan of swimsuits are we?”

Gabe’s brow furrowed. He sighed and ignored the question, starting to walk over to the bedside table where he had left his phone.

“Aw, don’t be grumpy,” Vaux teased. “I just had to come and see that cute little butt of yours up close.”

She reached out as he passed her, hooking her finger into the top edge of his towel and pulling it off in one swift motion. Gabe gasped at the sudden exposure, but the edges of his mouth quirked up. He could never stay irritated with her for long, especially in her adorable eagerness to strip him and start what she had really come for.

“Vaux,” he said, drawing out her name in a tone of feigned warning as he slowly turned towards her.

She was grinning, clutching her prize and waving it enticingly as her tufted tail swayed behind her. “Come and get it, then.”

Gabe obliged, heart rate increasing as he knew what he would be 'getting’ when he approached. But he kept outwardly calm. Even as Vaux dropped the towel on the floor and placed a clawed hand on his tattooed thigh. She littered his stomach with kisses, lingering on the large freckle by his navel.

He shook his head. “Whatever ever happened to 'hello’, dinner, and a nice talk?”

“Seems like I have a meal in front of me already,” Vaux said, one of her three yellow tongues darting out over her bottom lip. She was perfectly mouth-level with his dick, looking up at him with those big golden eyes. “So check that off”

“Fair point,” he said. He brought a hand to her face, fingers gingerly tracing her jawline to her chin. “And you look so good down there. I’m not about to argue.”

Vaux smiled and brought her first tongue to his cock, giving it a gentle lap. She paused to let out an almost disappointed-sounding hum and fix him with a theatrical pout.

“Too bad I caught you fresh out of the shower,” she said, the remainder of her complaint falling short, slurred, and trailing off as her mouth was drawn back to him. “I love how you—you usually smell…”

Her tongue laved over his dick; circling, teasing the tip and length. Gabe’s hand went to her thick, dark hair.

“Get here earlier next time,” he said, giving the strands under his fingers a light tug and causing Vaux to gasp against him. “More than happy to smother that pretty face in my musky cunt.”

He received no response. Vaux was far too engrossed in devouring him. His breathing turned heavy, interspersed with appreciative groans. She always made him so hard; he could feel himself twitching and throbbing. Sweat sprang up on his skin, effectively ruining the work of his shower.

Vaux’s tongue left Gabe’s cock. He felt it extend past what would be the normal length, gliding over his folds to find his hole. It teased his entrance, probing shallowly. His body trembled as her other two tongues joined in. They licked at whatever they could reach; twisting, pressing. Saliva coated him. Her nose kept nudging the head of his dick with her slightest of movements and it was a shock each time.

“Good girl,” Gabe praised. Vaux giggled and he sucked in a breath at the vibration. “Fuuuuck…”

He stood there and took the onslaught; chest heaving, head slightly dizzy. His hips would rut forward on their own, burying Vaux into coarse, damp hair. Groans and other strained, choked noises of pleasure tumbled from his lips, somewhat sore from his frequent biting. He could feel himself getting close; cock pulsing, hole twitching around the mild penetration.

The tongues retracted.

Gabe looked down at Vaux in time to see that mischievous grin find her again. She leaned back in, closing her lips on his dick. He jolted as all three tongues danced around him in the tight, warm space of her mouth.

“Vaux!” he cried, his knees nearly giving out. “Shit!”

His mouth stayed open, breath stuttering. He released Vaux’s hair only to tightly grip her horns seconds later. They were short but perfect for this. A primal instinct to thrust overtook him and he used them as leverage. Any coherent words were overtaken by loud, gravelly moans. He bent slightly over her, his pace frantic as she sucked. Her hands found his ass, claws digging in. The sting was delicious.

Gabe came like a shot; pulling Vaux tight to him, hips stilled and jutting out, head tossed back, crying out as his cock throbbed hard against relentlessly teasing tongues. They didn’t stop until his eyes were rolling back. It was equal parts relief and despair when Vaux released him.

She sat back, licking her lips and staring up at him.

“Always a pleasure, Gabe,” she said, her tail wagging audibly across the sheets.

Gabe met her eyes, then roamed her body; panting, heart hammering in his ribcage, still horny as fuck. His gaze fell between her legs where the proof of how excited she had gotten from just giving him head was. He grinned and pushed his sweat-slick hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, I’m not finished with you yet,” he said lowly.

Gabe moved towards Vaux and she got the message, scrambling further backwards onto the bed. He gave her a light, playful shove to make her lay completely down. She yelped theatrically, letting her arms fall raised above her head in mock surrender. Her voice was lost as he captured her lips with his.

“Need to taste yourself, don’t you, perv?” she teased as he pulled away.

“Not as much as I need to get my mouth on these tits,” Gabe said.

He turned his attention to them, dragging his tongue in the space between. The taste and smell of her skin almost made him drool. He followed the curvature of her breast to the nipple, licking and sucking at it. Vaux made small, quiet noises; whimpers staying trapped in her throat. It wouldn’t be that way for long.

Gabe fondled and made a mess of Vaux’s tits until he could feel her hips shifting. Working his way lower, he left kisses that made her quiver. He blew a long, slow breath over her flushed head, chuckling as the length twitched. Vaux suppressed a gasp as he licked a single stripe down her shaft and back up again. He teased at the leaking slit before taking her into his mouth.

His pace was slow; dipping, retracting, switching to lolling his tongue around the head before delving back down. He could take her so deeply, loving the feeling of her throbbing in his throat. Her body squirmed, jolting when he swallowed. As he upped his pace, her voice rose. Those sweet, desperate moans he had been craving to hear. They went straight to his cock and it wasn’t long until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Gabe pulled off of Vaux with a lewd, wet pop. He wiped at the saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, moving to straddle Vaux’s hips. She lay beneath him, glistening with sweat and staring with a dazed expression through hooded eyes. Fucking gorgeous.

“Oh, god. Fuck me, Gabe,” she whined as he lowered himself, pressing his soaked cunt to her shaft. “Fuck me.”

Gabe began to move, rocking his hips and grinding onto her. The flesh pressed against him pulsed with every drag. He leaned in to muffle her sounds in a deep kiss. It was a hungry thing; many tongues tangled, breaths brief, hot and dizzying as they moaned into one another. Gabe broke it, bracing himself on the mattress. His hands dug into the sheets and he growled as he humped harder, his eyes fixating on Vaux’s bouncing tits.

“People—ahn—fuck…and people call me the wild animal,” she said, breathless. “Ahhh—shit, Gabe, you’re so good! It’s so good!”

Gabe moved faster, making her moan loudly and toss her head. Her mouth was open, each of his quick thrusts punching shorter, choked-off noises from her. He was as close as he could possibly be without letting her slip inside him. The sheer heat and wetness were intense. Skirting the edge, he groaned.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” he asked, unstable from his brutal pace. “Just from me grinding against you?”

A little drool escaped Vaux’s lips, her eyes rolling slightly. “Yeeeees!”

“Hah—let’s fucking see it then,” Gabe said, gaze locking on hers. “Cum for me, Vaux. Cum.”

“I'm—I’m cu—ahhh!”

Gabe paused, denying himself his own orgasm to experience hers. She throbbed hard under him, spending herself over her stomach. Aftershocks visibly raced through her, wracking her body with almost rhythmic twitching. She slumped, breathing hard and whimpering; such a pretty performance.

Gabe raised himself, taking Vaux’s still-hard shaft into his hand and teasing the head along his slit. She practically convulsed, wailing shakily.

“G-Gabe!”

He stopped, grinning slyly. “Is that a no?”

Vaux shook her head.

“N-no,” she said, her grey cheeks darkening. “I don’t think I can cum again…but I want to feel you. U-use me to cum. Please.”

Without another word, Gabe sunk down onto her. His appreciative sigh was drowned by her moans.

“Fuck,” she hissed. “I’m so sensitive.”

Gabe went easy on her, much to the chagrin of the part of him that screamed to ride her into oblivion. He moved in a languid, circular motion, leaving a majority of the work to his hand as he rubbed his cock. Vaux caressed up his thighs, fingers brushing his ribs and scars, a palm pausing over his heart. He took his free hand and held it there, pressing her against the hammering beat.

Her eyes widened, a hard throb finding her deeply nestled length. That was new, Gabe noted and stored away for a later time.

“Wow,” she said. “Don—ah—don’t pass out me.”

“Hah—you neither.”

Gabe’s dick raged under his own touch. With renewed energy he sped up his movements, bouncing minutely atop Vaux’s hips. Even that short of a thrust drove him wild. His bottom lip was captured by his teeth as he started to moan, his hole incessantly gripping the burning shaft.

Vaux’s head tipped back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Gabe!”

Her chest heaved, the whole of her body shaking.

“Little more…little more,” Gabe chanted. “Hold—ahh!”

“So hot…you keep—ahhhn squeezing me! Fuuuck!”

Gabe’s head swam, the scent they had stirred up intoxicating him. He mindlessly slammed down onto Vaux. Tears welled and streamed from her eyes. He would have to end this soon or he could break her. But his hole had to feel fantastic for her; he could feel it going wilder with every second he got closer to release.

A few more bounces was all it took. Shoving Vaux fully inside for the final time, Gabe stilled and came with a series of loud moans. He felt the intense pulse of his cock against his fingers, throb after throb in time with a radiating, full-body ecstasy that had his walls clenching and releasing in rapid succession.

“Oh, god!” he cried. “Ohhh, shit.”

Vaux’s frantic, breathless voice snapped him back.

“Get off—fuck…get off me. I’m gonna lose it.”

Gabe complied immediately, weakness sending him collapsing sideways beside her. Catching his breath, her reached out and tenderly smoothed back Vaux’s hair. He cupped her cheek and wiped at a remaining tear with his thumb.

“You okay?” he asked.

Vaux huffed, smiling crookedly. “Me? I’m cool. Are you sure you didn’t slip a disk or something?”

“Shut up. I’m serious.”

“I’m fine,” Vaux assured with a roll of her eyes. She shifted to lay on her side, facing Gabe and tracing circles on his bicep with the tip of her claw. “Actually, you’ve got to do that to me again sometime. It felt insane.”

“I don’t know,” Gabe drawled. “That looked like a lot. Got the spare brain cells to burn?”

“Like you wouldn’t love having me as your dumb little fucktoy.”

Something warm in Gabe’s chest stopped a retort.

"I like you for you, Vaux,“ he said. "Don’t ever change.”

“Pff, alright, Romeo,” Vaux said, though her smile was soft. She quirked an eyebrow. “What if my tits get bigger?”

Gabe hummed. “That I could be persuaded to accept.”

Vaux chuckled and laced her fingers with Gabe’s, snuggling into the mattress and closing her eyes. Gabe felt the post-pleasure bonelessness creeping into him. He leaned in to kiss Vaux’s knuckles before settling in himself.

He heaved a contented sigh. “You’re helping me wash the sheets tomorrow.”

“Whaaat?”

End

Masterlist

[leupagus]

Live Gus Reacts! After a nap

So this one isn't going to be long because my carpal tunnel is acting up, but I loved this episode. Yes, there were some after-school-special elements, but I think Chuck Hayward knocked it out of the park, especially considering this was his only screenplay for this show (of course, he's won Emmys for Wandavision and is about to run his own show so dude knows what he's about). It felt much more interwoven than last week's, and certainly flowed a lot better.

I'm hilarified that Edyta Budnik's Polish background was used for Jade's character, similar to how most of the Richmond players' actual backgrounds are used on the show (and why I had her reading a book in Polish in the WifeGuy fic I'm writing). I will say that Rupert, specifically, clocking that was an interesting moment because there is a very real (and ugly) history of prejudice against Polish immigrants in England; Rupert was not being charming there, by any means. The whole interaction with Rupert and Nate in this episode was really fascinating, because Rupert's clearly alarmed at the fact that Nate is getting outside support — he was so effective at cutting Nate completely off from everyone at Richmond, but here Nate is, building his own network here (Roger's invitation suggests to me that this isn't the first time Nate's been out with the West Ham staff/team after a game). And for Rupert, that's unacceptable — Nate's become as much a "possession" to him as Rebecca once was, so he's going to try his best to keep Nate isolated. Unfortunately for him, Nate is still The Great and is learning to balance his newfound pride with his enduring kindness. So however that shakes out will be fun to watch, I think. (All the fingers crossed that it ends with Rupert getting struck by lightning, because really how could you improve on mardia's masterpiece.)

One thing I hate about this storyline, though, is that Nick Mohammed is still having to field abuse from racist fans who think he hasn't "atoned" enough to be allowed happiness or character growth; I love seeing more of Nate, but not at the expense of Mohammed having to deal with this bullshit.

Re: the Colin storyline, I can't really say whether or not it was handled well or poorly, because my personal reaction to it has overwritten that kind of objective analysis. I've read a few reactions, which run the gamut, and I can see how those scenes may have left people disappointed/elated/angry/satisfied. For me, knowing that this episode was written by a Black man my age, from my mom's alma mater (and uhhhh glad to see they changed the mascot from when she went there) and that he and Dylan Marron were the two writers "in charge" of Colin's storyline does make me more inclined to see the choices — Ted's ridiculous Denver Broncos analogy, Isaac's lashing out and somewhat remedial "how does gay work" questions — as deliberate explorations of how straight men can and do react to finding out their friend is gay: not perfectly or even well, but borne out of love and respect and desire to protect. I was very grateful that the entire team immediately accepted Colin, because the last thing I wanted in that moment was "realism." Ditto with Colin's playing improving in the second half of the game, now that his two lives are (at least partially) connected; that's likely not what would happen IRL but I didn't care, even a little bit.

I'll admit I VERY much dig Rebecca as Tough Mom character this season; she's been doling out some extremely good advice to people, and it's delightful to me. Yes, she's a main character who's not getting enough to do, but like Ted I think the show still works when she's not in the spotlight, and when she gets to be the one offering support rather than needing it. And I adore her and Roy's weird-ass relationship, it's just incredible to get these glimpses into how they see each other.

Other than that: Sam giving Jamie the middle finger AND a beautiful smile was amazing, Jamie being pleased to be clocked as queer was interesting, the Higgins And Rebecca Buddies Fun Time is still great, and I want every one of Trent Crimm's t-shirts. And a clementine.

[opossum-rights]

Eyes on the Back of your Head

Rook Hunt x GnReader      2.3k Words

You feel like you’ve been going crazy lately, you can never shake off the feeling that you’re being watched. Little do you know it’s not just a feeling.

Warning: Pure cringe from several months ago that I dug up

Being a magic-less student in an institute designed to educate the best sorcerers in the land caused you to build quite a name for yourself. Those who didn't already know of you as the black sheep of NRC thought of you as the go-to remedy for the overblot crisis. Even now as things seemed relatively calm, you held somewhat of a celebrity status.  

Wherever you went there was always someone's eyes on you; during lunch you could feel them on the back of your head as you half listened to whatever Epel and Jack were chatting about, walking through campus to your next class you tried to ignore them by busying yourself with mediating some little argument Ace and Deuce were having, even when visiting your friends in their dorms you would insist on moving to their rooms, not being rid of them until the door clicked shut.

It was beginning to get tiring; you never got this much attention back in your own world.

Even if Ramshackle was a poor excuse for a living situation, with walls that did nothing to keep the cold out at night and floorboards that would creek if so much as a mouse ran across, you found yourself releasing all the tension from the day as soon as you caught sight of it. That was, until a couple nights ago.

Homework done, chores taken care of, you felt like you could finally breathe. That's when you felt the familiar feeling of being watched. Looking over a shoulder, Grim was snoring away on the old couch as he always did when you brought out schoolwork.

It could've been the ghosts, but they haven't been around lately.  It was pretty late, perhaps it's just Malleus waiting outside for you or one of the first years stopping by. Although, both of those occurrences follow up a text or warning of some kind. If it was one of them, though, you figured they wouldn't want to be held waiting.

You let out sigh and make your way to the main doors, creaking open no matter how careful you try to be with them for the sake of Grim's nape time. There's no one around. Not in the vast yard or down the path leading to the rest of campus.

"Weird, guess I’m starting to get used to how weird this place is," You mutter, thinking that if there was someone outside that they would take the hint of you going back in and show themselves.

But you stood outside for a couple minutes, thinking how weird it is that the feeling seems to be coming from inside.

The feeling eventually faded away and you were able to get to sleep at a reasonable time.

•••

The next night wasn't free from any strange occurrences either. Like the last, you got the intense feeling of being watched inside your home. Grim must notice it this time as well, being quieter than usual with his fur standing on end.

He got the more expensive brand of tuna that night to try and lighten the mood, and like usual, food proved to be the most reliable tool you had to deal with him. With Grim chatting away with his mouth full in the common room, you take the empty packages back to the kitchen to dispose of them.

Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, you lean on the counter and watch as the trees disappear in the night, starting from the back and slowly making its way towards you until you see nothing but the thin crack in the window. 

That's strange, you could have sworn that wasn't there before. The window was right above the sink, so you spent a lot of time gazing out of it as you mindlessly washed the dishes.

It was a pretty long one to, not something you could easily overlook. You lean closer and gently scratch the glass to see if which side of the window it's on, only for it to catch onto your finger.

Oh, you think to yourself, that's not a crack, silly, it's a strand of hair. You immediately cringe back and shack your hand to get it off. You could tell it wasn't Grim's, and it surely wasn't yours.

The blond strand falls to the ground and lands in the space under the cupboard full of dust. You grab the water and quickly make your way back to the common room, taking the empty bowl from Grim who's too busy falling into a food coma after his meal to notice the look of unease on your face.

Not wanting to get close to the window, or the kitchen in general, you place the bowl on an end table in the entrance of the room, scoop your cat up, and speed walk upstairs and into your room.

You deposit Grim on the bed, go over to the windows, and pull the curtains close with such force that you almost think they won't be able to handle it.

Making your way to the door you lock it and rattle the knob for a while to make sure it's working, then unlock it to do it again.

Even after the feeling fades and you're settled under the covers, Grim close to your side, you can't relax enough to sleep.

•••

The next day Epel mentions your shabby appearance at lunch, saying that Vil would throw a fit if he showed up to class looking like that. It makes sense, you stumbled through putting on your uniform this morning and the bags under your eyes don't help.

"I've just been a bit stressed lately. Haven't been getting much sleep cause of it, you know?" You try your best to send him a nonchalant smile.

"If you want something to help with that, I'm sure we could find something back in my dorm room. Vil's always giving me these creams to try, and I haven't even opened half of them," You accept his offer, wanting an excuse not to go back to Ramshackle when the day ends.

•••

You manage to avoid running into Vil as you made your way through Pomefiore, thankfully as he's started to take you under his wing in the same vein as Epel since his overblot. Feeling the calmest you've had in a while, you take a seat on his bed with Grim sitting in your arms as Epel rummages around in a drawer.

"Here's some stress relief stuff for your skin, not know how helpful it's gonna be with what you're dealing with, but it smells nice at least," He hands you a good-sized bottle of lotion which you gratefully accept.

"I'm sure it'll work fine. I'm already feeling better being able to hang out with you," A small blush spreads across his face as you rub a dollop of the lotion into your arm, taking a sniff. It's nice, has a sort of pine smell.

You chat for a while about Epel's upcoming magift game; he beams when you promise to be there, not mentioning that Leona would give you a hard time if you didn't. When Grim starts complaining that he's hungry, Epel offers to walk you back to the mirror. You're having a nice time, despite how weird things have been lately.

•••

All good things must come to an end, you suppose.

As the three of you pass a tree in the courtyard, something, or someone, jumps from a branch and lands right Infront of your path. You let out a little yell and stumble backwards, losing your footing and about to fall flat on your back, but the person from the tree quickly surges forward and grabs your arm to pull you back up.

"My my, caught you off guard, did I? To be expected from a hunter such as moi!" Rook apologizes for startling you, not letting his grip on your arm up even after you regain your balance.

Epel taps on your shoulder and hand you back the lotion, which must have been dropped during your scare. Rook moves his hand from your arm to his chin, giving you a once over as a questioning look shows on his face.

"Forgive me for saying, but has something been bothering you mon ami?" He glances at the bottle in your hand and messy uniform before moving back to your face.

"They've just been tired lately, gave them some stuff for it. I'm actually taking them back to the mirror right now," Epel states as he shifts back to your side, which you're thankful for, a bit too tired to deal with the eccentric blonde.

"Ah, Is that so? Well, then I wish you both a good evening, au revoir!" Rook steps aside as you and Epel pass. You can feel him staring as your back, a familiar feeling that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.

•••

That night all you grab for dinner is a bag of chips, finding you're not that hungry and preferring to spend as little time as possible in the kitchen. As usual, the feeling of eyes sitting somewhere you can't see returns.

Earlier than usual you take Grim to bed, following your routine from the previous night. You stand Infront of the mirror in the bedroom and rub in some of Epel's lotion on the tensest parts of your face. You close your eyes, breath in and out, until you feel as relaxed as you can.

It was a nice day earlier, but now you can hear the wind howl past, pushing against the walls making a creaking sound that's a little too similar to the floor makes. As a result, you are too scared to sleep.

You feel crazy.

There hasn't been any concrete proof that anything strange is happening. Sure, there was the hair, but it's an old house, and it might've blown in from somewhere. The feeling, you're just not used to the attention and decidedly do not like it.

The creaking, from the wind outside. The wind that's apparently targeting the lower floor. It sounds like it's right under you. That shouldn't be possible, the way the dorm is built you should be right above the middle of the common room, not even close enough to the side walls.

Focusing more on the creaking under you, it comes to mind that it's louder than the noises coming from the walls. Despite the cold you can feel yourself sweat. The creaking moves, your eyes widen. It's on the stairs now, there's no denying that it's the floorboards now.

Each stair creaks under the weight of whoever's in your home, now settling on the second floor.

You try to keep your breath steady. It moves closer, they are in no rush.

You feel your body tremble. It stops outside your door.

You feel tears fall down your face.

There is no more creaking that night

•••

In the morning you try to go about things as usual to not upset Grim. You put off leaving the room until he falls after jumping to reach the knob, complaining about being hungry as usual. You hold your breath as you move downstairs, constantly checking over your shoulder.

Nothing is there. Despite your heart stopping every time you glimpse your own shadow, you desperately want to leave. You grab Grim, who grumbles that it's too early to leave yet. You don't look back as you close the doors behind you.

•••

"Are you sure you're okay, you look worse than yesterday," Epel looks concerned. The bags under your eyes are worse now, the area having a puffy look from your crying. You completely forgot some parts of your usual uniform, and you've been jumping at the slightest sound.

You feel bad for making him worry, confessing that you think someone broke into your dorm last night. He jumps up, immediately checking to see if you're visibly hurt. You look too shaken up to be joking.

"Come on, we need to get Crewel, or Crowly, or someone!" He starts to set off, but you quickly grab his hand, begging him to sit back down. You're not even a hundred percent sure that there was someone in the first place. You tell him that with exams coming up you don't want to bother the staff. He looks into your eyes, tearing up and despite, and sits back down.

He's not letting it go completely though, declaring that you're spending the night in his dorm, you're not going back to Ramshackle until him and some of the others check it out. You slump in your seat and nod.

•••

With exams many of the Pomefiore students are in the library or in their rooms studying, leaving you and Epel alone in the kitchen. You didn't stop at Ramshackle after classes, so all you have with you is your school bag, with your gym uniform as something to sleep in.

Grim was shipped off with Ace and Deuce, Epel saying that Vil banned any type of animal that sheds and that you two needed to study for a class you only had with him. They reluctantly agreed, you feel bad for Riddle already.

The air is tense, neither of you wanting to start the talk that needs to be had. Instead, you make uncomfortable small talk about how you're going to explain your sleepover to Vil. The conversation dies out, with Epel excusing himself to the restroom.

You're left alone. What are you doing?

You're getting Epel all worried for no reason and taking his attention away from studying. You feel shame rise in your chest, but feel a chill rise up your back. You look behind you, but there's no one there. The longer you sit here the worse the feeling gets.

You figure Epel wouldn't mind if you just went to wait for him in his room and quickly stand and grab your bag without pushing back your chair. As you move towards the dorm rooms, you hear the sound of a chair being set back into place and hitting a table. You speed up.

You look behind you, but nothing's there. You start to panic. The picture-perfect hallways make you confused, not knowing if you're by the first-year rooms or somewhere else. You swore Epel's room was this way, you can't afford to get it wrong.

Finally, you find his door. Wasting no time in rushing in, you turn and slam it shut. You try to control your breathing as you wait. You feel the blood leave your face as you turn and see bows and arrows hung on the wall. You know exactly who's room this is.

A pair of arms circles around your waist, keeping your from moving as if you could find the courage to in the first place. You feel his breath on the back of your neck.

"Mon ami, you gave a great chase! Truly reminiscent of a panicked little rabbit," Rook buries his face in your hair, smelling it as he rubs his thumbs on your stomach.

You feel sick.

"How sorry I am for your current state. That rotting building you call home didn't make it easy for me, but that matters not, as we're finally together!" He rocks you back and forth.

You feel his mouth by your ear, a tongue moving around the shell.

"Now that you’re here, we can discuss our happily ever after."

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

50+ Good Things from the Biden Administration

Just a list of 50+ good things the Biden Administration has done in the last 4 years because I’ve been hearing too much rhetoric that it doesn’t matter who you vote for. It does make a difference. 

Increased access to healthcare and specifically codified protections for LGBTQ+ patients against discrimination. (x) 

Strengthened women's reproductive rights by increasing access to reproductive health care, improving confidentiality to protect against criminalization for patients receiving reproductive care, and revoked Medicaid waivers from states that would exclude providers like Planned Parenthood, and more. (x)

Expanded healthcare and benefits for veterans through the PACT Act (x)

Cemented protections for pregnant and postpartum workers through the Pregnant Workers Fairness Act and PUMP for Nursing Mothers Act. 

Improved access to nursing homes for those who receive Medicaid services and established, for the first time, a national minimum staffing requirement for nursing homes to ensure those in their care receive sufficient support.  (x) 

Lowered healthcare costs for those with Medicare which capped insulin for seniors at $35 a month, made vaccines free, and capped seniors’ out of pocket expenses at the pharmacy through the Inflation Reduction Act. 

Fully vaccinated 79% of American adults against COVID-19 (I know this is old news now this is a big deal) 

Banned unfair practices that hide housing fees from renters and homebuyers when moving into a new home (x) 

Reduced the mortgage insurance premium for Federal Housing Administration (FHA) mortgages and clarified that inflated rents caused by algorithmic use of sensitive nonpublic pricing and supply information violate antitrust laws. (x) 

Increased protections for those saving for retirement from predatory practices. (x)

Helped millions of households gain access to the internet through the Affordable Connectivity Program. (x) 

Restored net neutrality (net neutrality is a standard which ensures broadband internet service is essential and prohibits interna providers from blocking, engaging in paid prioritization, and more.) (x)

Increased protections for loan holders as well as increased access to loans (x)

Cut fees that banks charge consumers for overdrawing on their accounts. (x)

Reaffirmed HUD’s commitment to remedy housing discrimination under the Fair Housing Act (which was– surprise, surprise– halted under the Trump administration). (x)

Rejoined the Paris Climate Accords.  

Listed more than 24 million acres of public lands across the country as environmentally protected and has channeled more than $18 billion dollars toward conservation projects. (And revoked the permit for the Keystone XL pipeline amongst others). 

Invested $369 billion to reduce greenhouse emissions and promote clean energy technologies through the Inflation Reduction Act. Through the tax incentives under the Inflation Reduction Act, renewable energy (such as wind, solar, and hydropower) has surpassed coal-fired generation in the electric power sector for the first time, making it the second-biggest source of energy behind natural gas. (x)

Strengthened protections against workplace assault through the Speak Out Act. (x) 

Increased protections for workers during the union bargaining process (x)

Is making it easier for passengers to obtain refunds when airlines cancel or significantly change their flights, significantly delay their bags, or fail to provide extra services when purchased. (x)  

Invested $1.2 trillion into roads, waterlines, broadband networks, airports and more allowing for more bridges, railroads, tunnels, roads, and more through the Inflation Reduction Act (which also added 670,000 jobs). (idk about you but I like driving on well maintained roads and having more rail options).  

Strengthened overtime protections for federal employees (x)

Raised the minimum wage for federal workers and contractors to $15. (x)

Strengthened protections for farmworkers by expanding the activities protected from retaliation by the National Labor Relations Act and more. (Previously anti-retaliation provisions under the National Labor Relations Act applies mostly to only U.S. citizens) (x)

Invested $80 billion for the Internal Revenue Service to hire new agents, audit the wealth, modernize its technology, and more. Additionally, created $300 billion in new revenue through corporate tax increases. (x) 

Lowered the unemployment rate to 3.5% — the lowest in 50 years. 

Canceled over $140B of student debt for nearly 40 million borrowers. (x)

Strengthened protections for sexual assault survivors, pregnant and parenting students, and LGBTQ+ students in schools through an updated Title IX rule. This updated rule strengthens sexual assault survivors rights to investigation– something that had been gutted under the Trump administration, strengthens requirements that schools provide modifications for students based on pregnancy, prohibits harassment based on sexual orientation or gender identity, and more. (x)

Revoked an order that limited diversity and inclusion training. (x)

Cracked down on for profit colleges. (x)

Reaffirmed students’ federal civil rights protections for non-discrimination based on race, national origin, disability, religion, sexual orientation, gender in schools. Specifically, the Department of Education made clear students with disabilities’ right to school, limiting the use of out of school suspensions and expulsions against them. (x) (x) 

Enhanced the Civil Rights Data Collection, a national survey that captures data on students’ equal access to educational opportunities. These changes will improve the tracking of civil rights violations for students, critical for advocates to respond to instances of discrimination. 

Provided guidance on how colleges and universities can still uphold racial diversity in higher education following the Supreme Court decision overturning affirmative action. (x) 

Issued a federal pardon to all prior Federal offenses of simple possession of marijuana. Additionally, the DEA is taking steps to reclassify marijuana as a Schedule III substance instead of a Schedule I, limiting punishment for possession in the future. (x) 

Changed drug charges related to crack offenses, now charging crack offenses as powder cocaine offenses. This is a big step towards ending the racial disparity that punishes crack offenses with greater severity than offenses involving the same amount of powder cocaine. (x) 

Lowered the cost of local calls for incarcerated people through the Martha Wright-Reed Just and Reasonable Communications Act as well as increased access for video calls (especially impactful for incarcerated people with disabilities). (x) 

Enacted policing reforms that banned chokeholds, restricted no-knock entries, and restricted the transfer of military equipment to local police departments. (x)

Established the National Law Enforcement Accountability Database (NLEAD) which will better track police officer misconduct. This database will vet federal law enforcement candidates who have a history of misconduct from being rehired and will make it easier and faster to charge police officers under the Death in Custody Reporting Act. (x) 

Added disability as a protected characteristic alongside race, gender, religion, and sexual orientation. Under the law, police officers are prohibited from profiling people based on these characteristics. …It sadly happens anyway but now there’s an added legal protection which means a mechanism to convict police officers should they break the law. (x) 

Required federal prisons to place incarcerated individuals consistent with their chosen pronouns and gender identity. (x) 

Expanded gun background checks by narrowing the “boyfriend” loophole to keep guns out of the hands of convicted dating partners, strengthening requirements for registering as a licensed gun dealer (closing the “gun show loophole”), and more through the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act.  (x) 

Increased mental health programs within police departments to support officers experiencing substance use disorders, mental health issues, or trauma from their duties. (x)

Lifted Trump era restrictions on the use of consent decrees. The Justice Department uses consent decrees to force local government agencies (like police departments) to eliminate bad practices (such as widespread abuse and misconduct) that infringe on peoples’ civil rights. (x) 

Improved reporting of hate crimes through the COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act (x) 

Nominated the first Black woman to sit on the Supreme Court 

Confirmed 200 lifetime judges to federal courts, confirming historic numbers of women, people of color, and other judges who have long been excluded from our federal court system. (64% are women, 63% are people of color) 

Designated Temporary Protected Status (TPS) status for immigrants from Cameroon, Haiti, ​​El Salvador, Haiti, Honduras, Nepal, Nicaragua, Sudan, and more. (x) 

Ended the discriminatory Muslim and African bans (x). 

Provided a pathway to citizenship for spouses of U.S. citizens that have been living in the country without documentation. (x) 

Expanded healthcare to DACA recipients (x) 

This one is… barely a win but not by fault of the Biden Administration. The Department of Homeland Security as of Feb 2023 has reunited nearly 700 immigrant children that were separated from their families under Trump’s Zero Tolerance Policy. From 2017-2021, 3,881 children were separated from their families. About 74% of those have been reunited with their families: 2,176 before the task force was created and 689 afterward. But that still leaves nearly 1,000 children who remain tragically separated from their families from under the Trump Administration. (x)

(okay this one is maybe only exciting for me who’s a census nerd) Revised federal standards for the collection of race and ethnicity data, allowing for federal data that better reflect the country’s diversity. Now, government forms will include a Middle Eastern/ North African category (when previously those individuals would check “white”). Additionally, forms will now have combined the race & ethnicity question allowing for individuals to check “Latino/a” as their race (previously Latine individuals would be encouraged to check “Latino” for ethnicity and “white” for race… which doesn’t really resonate with many folks). (x) (I know this sounds boring but let me tell you this is BIG when it comes to better data collection– and better advocacy!).

Rescinded a Trump order that would have excluded undocumented immigrants from the 2020 Census which would have taken away critical funds from those communities. 

Required the U.S. federal government and all U.S. states and territories to recognize the validity of same-sex and interracial civil marriages by passing the Respect for Marriage Act, repealing the Defense of Marriage Act.

Reversed Trump’stransgender military ban. 

Proposed investments in a lot of programs including universal pre-k, green energy, mental health programs across all sectors, a national medical leave program for all workers and more. (x) 

Last… let’s also not forget all the truly terrible things Trump did when he was in office. If you need a reminder, scroll this list, this one mostly for giggles + horror, for actual horror about what a Trump presidency has in store, learn about ‘Project 2025’ from the Heritage Foundation. I know this post is about reasons to vote FOR Biden but let’s not forget the many, many reasons to vote for him over Trump. 

So, there it is, 50+ reasons to vote for Biden in the 2024 Election. 

Check your voter registration here, make a plan to vote, and encourage your friends to vote as well. 

All in all, yeah… there’s a lot of shitty things still happening. There’s always going to be shit but things aren’t going to change on their own. And that change starts (it certainly doesn’t end) with voting. 

Go vote in November.