#+ that switch in perspective was an interesting move

[envy-of-the-apple]

The Earth Kills the Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 6.3k

Part two of The Sun Eats the Moon

Synopsis: A retelling of The Sun Eats the Moon in Suguru's perspective

(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)

Suguru liked you. 

It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in. 

Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.

"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.

A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you. 

It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other. 

“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.

You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.” 

“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.” 

You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.

“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru. 

The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.” 

You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty. 

“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.” 

With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore. 

“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.

“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin’ annoyin’.”

Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you. 

It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals. 

A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter. 

◉

From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before. 

It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.

Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before. 

Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like. 

Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru. 

The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play

You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.

Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk. 

He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects. 

It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.

Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday. 

By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.

(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)

Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash. 

When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-

A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you. 

Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.

"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says. 

Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.

By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side. 

The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.

Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger. 

Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.

Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru. 

The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were. 

So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction. 

The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks. 

"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.

You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them. 

His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful. 

You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything. 

◉

Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you. 

Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.

Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal. 

Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms. 

It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.

Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten. 

Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times. 

He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed. 

Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru. 

It took a while for you to fully learn that. 

Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.

Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar. 

Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough. 

You made Satoru angry. 

He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this. 

"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago." 

"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-" 

"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?" 

You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again." 

He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze. 

"I'm sorry...’Toru." 

Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness. 

Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it. 

The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it. 

He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.

No, you are just Satoru's. 

◉

Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you. 

He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you. 

You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things. 

Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most. 

Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again. 

You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru. 

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does. 

It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end. 

You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down. 

He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore. 

You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy. 

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him. 

And then, you break. 

Just a bit. 

A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him. 

He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing. 

"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there." 

Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away. 

You were leaving. 

Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words. 

You seem to realize this too, freezing. 

He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve. 

"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out. 

Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further. 

He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town. 

It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru. 

The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes. 

You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back. 

For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit. 

Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise. 

Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace. 

And Satoru breaks. 

It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.

The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day. 

Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it. 

Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.

Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend. 

It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.

A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.

When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.

What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.

Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.

At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.

Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.

He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.

The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.

The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.

It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.

Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.

Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.

“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”

“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.

“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”

“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”

“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”

“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”

“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”

Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”

Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.

“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”

From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.

Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.

“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”

“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.

"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"

"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”

Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.

Satoru had.

He hums. Straightening his back.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”

At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.

“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”

His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.

‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.

You used to call him ‘Toru.

“Seriously, I-”

“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”

There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.

“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”

He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.

Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.

◉

Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.

And then he saw you.

You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-

He reels himself back in.

You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.

Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.

You are his sole paralegal.

Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.

Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.

He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.

Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.

Suguru stares at your picture a little more.

The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.

Oh.

Suguru is disgusted by you.

You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.

He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.

You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.

The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.

You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”

Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.

Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.

“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”

Suguru sighs.

“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.

“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”

Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.

“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”

That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.

“You’re quitting?”

“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”

“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”

Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.

“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”

“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”

“Don’t push it.”

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds. 

If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun. 

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark content #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #non con touching #gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #bullying #harrassment #non con kissing #geto suguru

[ashleyisartsy]

Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:

-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!

-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.

-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.

-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.

-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?

-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.

-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.

-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.

-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)

-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!

-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.

Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.

#watcher #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #the youtube landscape is a hell hole #just :(

[supersoakerfullofblood]

Point of View: the Biggest Thing You're Missing!

Point of view is one of the most important elements of narrative fiction, especially in our modern writing climate, but you rarely hear it seriously discussed unless you go to school for writing; rarely do help blogs or channels hit on it, and when they do, it's never as in-depth as it should be. This is my intro to POV: what you're probably missing out on right now and why it matters. There are three essential parts of POV that we'll discuss.

Person: This is the easiest part to understand and the part you probably know already. You can write in first person (I/me), second (You), and third person (He/she/they). You might hear people talk about how first person brings the reader closer to the central character, and third person keeps them further away, but this isn't true (and will be talked about in the third part of this post!) You can keep the reader at an intimate or alien distance to a character regardless of which person you write in. The only difference--and this is arguable--is that first person necessitates this intimacy where third person doesn't, but you still can create this intimacy in third person just as easily. In general, third person was the dominant (and really the only) tense until the late 19th century, and first person grew in popularity with the advent of modernism, and nowadays, many children's/YA/NA books are written in first person (though this of course doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't write those genres in the third person). Second person is the bastard child. Don't touch it, even if you think you're clever, for anything the length of a novel. Shorter experimental pieces can use it well, but for anything long, its sounds more like a gimmick than a genuine stylistic choice.

Viewpoint Character: This is a simple idea that's difficult in practice. Ask yourself who is telling your story. This is typically the main character, but it needn't be. Books like The Book Thief, The Great Gatsby, Rebecca, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Sherlock series are told from the perspective of a side character who isn't of chief importance to the narrative. Your viewpoint character is this side character, the character the reader is seeing the world through, so the main character has to be described through them. This isn't a super popular narrative choice because authors usually like to write from the perspective of their most interesting character, but if you think this choice could fit your story, go for it! You can also swap viewpoint characters throughout a story! A word of warning on that: only change your viewpoint character during a scene/chapter break. Switching mid-scene without alerting the reader (and even when you do alert the reader) will cause confusion. I guarantee it.

Means of Perception; or, the Camera: This part ties the first two together. If you've ever heard people talk about an omniscient, limited, etc. narrator, this is what they mean. This part also includes the level of intimacy the reader has with the viewpoint character: are we in their heads, reading their thoughts, or are we so far away that we can only see their actions? If your story is in a limited means of perception, you only have access to your character's head, eyes, and interpretations, where an omniscient narrator sees through all characters' heads at once. (This doesn't eliminate the viewpoint character--most of your writing will still be in that character's head, but you're allowed to reach into other characters' thoughts when needed. You could also be Virginia Woolf, who does fluidly move through everyone's perspectives without a solid viewpoint character, but I would advise against this unless you really are a master of the craft.) Older novels skew towards third person omniscient narration, where contemporary novels skew towards first person limited. You also have a spectrum of "distant" and "close." If omniscient and limited are a spectrum of where the camera can swivel to, distant and close is a spectrum of how much the camera can zoom in and out. Distant only has access to the physical realities of the world and can come off as cold, and close accesses your character's (or characters', if omniscient) thoughts. Notice how I said narration. Your means of perception dramatically effects how your story can be told! Here's a scene from one of my stories rewritten in third-person distant omniscient. The scene is a high school football game:

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” She shivered; the wind blew in. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, stuttered there, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” She met his eyes, which he pulled away. “You don’t mean that," Piper said. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” The cloth of Carmen's uniform caved and expanded under Piper's fingers.

With distant-omniscient, we only get the bare actions of the scene: the wind blows in, Piper shivers, the cloth rises and falls, Carmen points, etc. But you can tell there's some emotional and romantic tension in the scene, so let's highlight that with a first person limited close POV:

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” Frost spread up from her legs and filled her as if she were perforated rock, froze and expanded against herself so that any motion would disturb a world far greater than her, would drop needles through the mind’s fabric. A misplaced word would shatter her, shatter him. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, thought better, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” “You don’t mean that.” She spoke like a jaded mother, spoke with some level of implied authority, and reminded herself again to stop. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” Piper felt the cloth of his waist cave and expand under her fingers and thought: is this not confidence?

Here, we get into Piper's thoughts and physical sensations: how the frost rises up her, and how this sensation of cold is really her body expressing her nervous fears; how she "thought better" and put her arm around his waist; her thought "is this not confidence?"; and how she reminds herself not to talk like a mother. Since I was writing from the close, limited perspective of a nervous high schooler, I wrote like one. If I was writing from the same perspective but with a child or an older person, I would write like them. If you're writing from those perspectives in distant narration, however, you don't need to write with those tones but with the authorial tone of "the narrator."

This is a lot of info, so let's synthesize this into easy bullet points to remember.

Limited vs. Omniscient. Are you stuck to one character's perspective per scene or many?

Close vs. Distant. Can you read your characters' thoughts or only their external worlds? Remember: if you can read your character's thoughts, you also need to write like you are that character experiencing the story. If child, write like child; if teen, write like teen; etc.

Here's another way to look at it!

This is a confusing and complex topics, so if you have any questions, hit up my ask box, and I'll answer as best I can. The long and short of it is to understand which POV you're writing from and to ruthlessly stick to it. If you're writing in limited close, under no circumstances should you describe how a character other than your viewpoint character is feeling. Maintaining a solid POV is necessary to keeping the dream in the reader's head. Don't make them stumble by tripping up on POV!

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing questions #creative writing #bookblr #writerscommunity #booklr

[shallyouobeyme]

Spicey

Yandere!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader (GN)

Summary: Bakugo is convinced the two of you are meant for each other, born on the same day and friends since then, and he will go to great lengths to make sure you stay near him. It's all worth it though when you do something for him, no matter how small...

! Minors Do No Interact!

TW: Actually just very soft!Yandere Bakugo, Me being a dumbass and switching between using Bakugos first and last name a lot, mention of Bakugo maybe or maybe not threatening some people

Your friendship with Katsuki had been going strong for as long as you could remember, your mothers had met in the hospital after giving birth and the two of you had already been lying in bassinets beside each other. Soon, your mothers were fast friends and play dates between Katsuki and you became a common, mostly weekly occurrence. And so it might have been the nature of the situation or it was always meant to be like that, but as you both grew up, your friendship only grew closer.

Now, one might assume that given the closeness the two of you have had for your entire life, Katsuki must perceive you as a sister, but one would be wrong. Sure, Katsuki saw you as someone he had to protect and who was an unchangeable part of his life, but you weren't his honorary sister, no, he hadn't seen you as anything family-wise since he had been old enough to know what romance was. No, you were going to be his spouse, you already were the love of his life and nothing would change that.

With this goal in mind, he made sure throughout his entire life that you were close by, made sure his presence as a perspective (definite) spouse of yours was drilled into your mind. Your parents wanted to move, unhappy with their landlord? Bakugo was the one who gave your father all the information about a beautiful property near his childhood home with the landlord being very, very kind - and always seeming a little scared when dealing with your family. You were thinking about attending a school specialized in one of your hobbies? Bakugo took you on a campus tour at U.A. (as if he ever needed it) under the guise of being the one who wanted to see more of it and, who would have thought, the support course could make perfect use of your quirk and the teacher is really keen on you attending. Maybe you should attend U.A. with him, don't worry, he'll help you study and he'll make sure you get in.

Even after the attacks on his class - luckily not on you though or he might have lost his mind completely - and the students moving into the dorms, he somehow manages to convince Nezu to move your room near his instead of where it would usually be near your class. Don't worry, he knows you don't know many of his classmates (because he didn't 'want to share you with them), but he's there and he'll make sure you'll feel comfortable. He'll even go to those interior decoration stores and buy you things to make your room more cozy - oh, you want to pay for your own stuff? Don't be silly, he only buys you stuff, because his mom is rich and he wants to spite her by paying with her money.

A lot of your off time is now spent in either your or Bakugo's room, often studying or just hanging out doing your own thing just enjoying each other's presence. But sometimes when you asked really sweetly, maybe gave him a little kiss on the cheek, and he knew no one would surprise the two of you, he'd do things you wanted to do specifically - be it Spa Days, book clubs, trying out specific baking recipes, or even something as simple as watching a chick-flick (something Katsuki will never, ever admit he secretly enjoys doing with you).

It was safe to say that a lot of things the two of you did were catered to your interests and hobbies, because - as stated before - Katsuki wanted you to know how perfect of a husband he'd be for you. But he didn't mind, everything done for you was something he did gladly and something he'd do again without a second thought. Still, whenever you did something specifically for him or whenever you went out of your way without a cause to make him happy, he was over the moon. The feeling he got when that happened - which to be fair wasn't rare, but he still relished it every time - was something better than any win in a fight, any villain he ever did or ever will beat, and better than any feeling of superiority he got over his classmates when he did something that proved him being better than them.

One such occurrence happened on a weekend spent at his house while both of your parents were on a trip out of the city, which gave Katsuki the perfect excuse to play house in his mind with you, in his head he liked to pretend that you and him were married and spent a relaxing day in your spousal home. He had been spending the last few hours at the gym in his basement training - he didn't want to get out of shape and make you think that he'd let you go once you'll be married - and when he came upstairs he smelled something delicious, quite honestly it felt a little bit like he was a husband working all day, coming home after a busy day to his loving spouse who was already preparing dinner for the two of you.

"You're cooking?" Katsuki asked as he walked into the kitchen, savouring the view of you looking so very cute and precious nodding your head to some imaginary tune as you stirred something in a pot.

"Yes!" you answered excitedly as you smiled back at him, "I know you usually like to make dinner, but I saw this new recipe online and I really wanted to try it and it turns out you had all the ingredients for it. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," Katsuki gave you one of his rare smiles behind your back, just wishing he could come up to you - hug you from behind and give you a kiss, "I'll just quickly take a shower and then we eat, okay?"

A mere five minutes later, because Katsuki was too excited to take his time and rushed to the shower as quick as he humanly could, the two of you were sitting at the dinner table (gosh, Katsuki's mind would replay this day in his mind for months) and you served him a bowl of a Ramen-variation. Katsuki was prepared to act like this was the best-tasting meal in the whole world, just to see you smile at him, but what he was not prepared for was that after his first bite, his mouth exploded with flavour. Any normal person would have started crying at this point from the spicey goddess that just happened in his mouth, but Katsuki was more than used to this so he enjoyed it immensely. It was probably one of the best spicey Ramens he had ever tried - a main factor in this probably being that you made it.

You looked at him with a worried gaze as you were biting on your lip, waiting for his reaction: "It's too mild is it? I knew I should have added more spices," you sighed, looking disappointed in yourself, so Katsukio quickly stopped those doubts.

"It's perfect, really, this is just right. I was just surprised that you made it this Spicey, I mean, I know that you are a bit more sensitive with your puny, little tastebuds," Katsuki teased you a little bit and you blushed as you smiled a bit cheekily.

"I actually made a bowl without most spices just for me, but I wanted to do something nice for you for once - you're always doing so much for me and I wanted to."

Love pulsed in Katsuki's heart. This was the exact moments he was living for. This had to mean you loved him back, why else would you do something so amazing for him? Katsuki never had any doubts that the two of you were meant for each other - after all, you were even born on the same day, brought into this world together to live in this world together - but now he was even more sure than ever and maybe he would actually tell you what he was feeling soon. Maybe...

N/A: Thank you all for reading today's entry in my Yandere Writetober, I hope you enjoyed this and if you did, that you might feel inclined to reblog or comment. Tell me what you think, tell me what the weather is like, I don't mind either.

#yandere #writetober #x reader #dark content #tw: yandere #romantic yandere #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere x reader #yandere ground zero x reader #yandere dynamight x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x readef

[jayke0]

Nicotine Lust

Summary: Your attempts to keep your smoking kink under wraps become futile once you're reassured that your boyfriends’ lungs aren't at stake.

A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction 's smoking Steven, so i wanted to do smth from Jake's perspective ❤️.

Also if you know which tiktok lady Jake’s talking about then bonus points to you!

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: smoking, afab reader!, g/n nicknames, I've never smoked so forgive me if literally all of it is wrong, blowjob, face fucking, ‘fucktoy’ nickname, ‘slut’ nickname, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader, p in v, unmentioned protection, riding, doggy style, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 4,020 (yeah… I'm pretty sure this is my longest fic yet.😅)

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily. And Fen ofc ofc.

…………………………………......................………….

You hate to admit it, but when Jake smokes, it's like an automatic switch is clicked in your brain; like you're literally being turned on.

It's wrong, so so wrong. You don't want to be getting turned on by something that is ultimately ruining your boyfriend's lungs, all three of your boyfriends’ lungs.

It's only when you mention it to him one day that he settles your worries.

“The suit heals ‘em.”

“What?? For real?”

“ ‘Course! That's the whole point of it.”

You raise a brow. “It's not for you to heal your black lung.”

“Well no, but it's for healin’, ain't it?” He pulls out his packet of tobacco and places it on the windowsill, along with his papers. His fingers work meticulously as he lays out the paper and lines up the tobacco, sprinkling it onto the paper like he's decorating fucking cupcakes with chocolate sprinkles.

“I thought ya liked it anyway.”

You have to drag your eyes away from the man's hands as he rolls the cylinder between his fingers. “What? No... that's weird.”

Your boyfriend cocks an eyebrow at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? So that look that ya give me, or the way ya watch my hands ain't got nothin’ to do with ya gettin’ all hot and bothered?” He brings it to his lips, running his tongue along the edge of the paper in a way that makes your cheeks heat up and your arms fold over your chest defensively.

Jake is easily the best at reading you and your body, especially when it comes to your not-so-subtle arousal.

Your eyes move back to his hand, watching him push the filter into the end with his middle finger before rolling the other end shut.

“No, I just find it interesting. It's good for me to know how to roll a cig… I guess.” Your words trail off as you realize how dumb that sounds; there's no way in hell that Jake lockley is going to believe that lie.

“For who? Ya side piece?” He jokes, the smirk turning into a full-grown grin while he brings the now formed cigarette to his lips. It's only when he flips open his lighter and the flame lights up the end that you come to the conclusion there's no point in hiding it… not now that you know they're safe.

“Alright!... I like it, is that what you wanted?”

“Show me.” His lips are pressed together tightly to keep the cigarette in place, but he's learnt how to talk out of the gap in his lips.

“Excuse me?”

“Show me how much ya like it.” The man's voice is deeper now as he pulls the cigarette from his lips and exhales a cloud of smoke, considerately not blowing it in your direction; and fuck if it doesn't make you squirm.

You want to sink to your knees right there, rip his black jeans from his thick thighs and suck him dry, but your stubbornness stops you. “I'm not some kinda fuck toy, Jake!”

“Ya weren't sayin’ that last night, were ya?” The cigarette meets his lips again and his chest expands as he takes in a long drag, not being as considerate with where he blows it this time.

You irritatedly waft the smoke away from your face, but his gaze, oh lord the way his eyes glare at you, a dark stare that pushes you to your knees anyway as if he has the fucking force. Resting your hands on his knees, you part them slowly, keeping your eyes transfixed on his as you slide your hands up his bulky thighs and over his crotch, all while he takes another drag.

“Good fucktoy.” He says with a playful tone as he pets your head condescendingly, the name and gesture ultimately turning you on more while you toy with his belt buckle to pry his jeans open. “Eager, ain't we? I love it when you're this eager, mi vida.”

The smell of the smoke is starting to sting your nostrils, but all worries of second-hand smoke fade when you pull his boxers down his thighs and reveal his half hard cock. “I'm not the only eager one," you raise a brow at him, taking his hardening length in your hand to hear a soft groan from him.

“Oh c'mon, what guy doesn't love gettin’ his dick sucked? Especially from a slut as pretty as you, cariño.” His thumb runs over your cheek, and then your bottom lip. “Now, open up for me, okay?”

His hand replaces yours as you obediently open your mouth and lean forward, wanting to feel him grow hard in the heat of your mouth. His length is heavy on your tongue, the familiar tang of his skin and pre-cum making you hum softly to send vibrations through his cock, resulting in a pleasured grunt from the man.

“Mmm that's good… good angel…”

The calmness in his voice and the way his shoulders drop indicate that even his trusty old cigarettes can't relax him like you can. You always know exactly what makes him tick, what buttons to press to get him coming down your throat in minutes, but despite that, he continues to take drags from his damn deathstick.

Your eyes are fixated on his lips as he brings it to his mouth again, holding it loosely between his two fingers before inhaling the nicotine. He meets your gaze, a shallow thrust from his impatient hips making you pull back with an annoyed squeal; you're not willing to admit how turned on you also get when they're impatient with you, though you're like 90% sure that Jake has caught on anyway, as usual. A string of drool falls from your lips and lands on his head, spreading down the thick, tanned length before your lips follow.

“Thaaat’s it, just like that, darlin’.” He groans, feeling your lips stretch and the warmth of your mouth envelop him. His fingers caress your hair before his large hand eventually comes to rest on the back of your head; an exciting threat that he could push you down on his girth at any point.

Of course, though, he doesn't. He's more patient and collected than the other two, even when you manage to relax your throat and sink all the way down on him.

“Oooh cariño, that's new. Ya been practicin’?” Jake's back arches off of the window, his cigarette back between his lips so his hand can join the other on the back of your head. You pull off with a pant, nodding proudly, “Steven loved letting me practice on him, did you know he's into throat training?”

Your words warrant a growl from your boyfriend as he tightens his grip on your scalp. “C’mooon, stop teasin’ me,” his lip is cocked up in a scowl as he take another drag from his cig and blows it out.

You don't spend any more time fucking around, your own thighs pressing together just from the situation and sight in front of you. You lower your head on him, but don't take him fully, wrapping your hand around what you can't fit in your mouth so you can start bobbing your head. Your tongue glides over his slit each time you almost pull off, with just your lips wrapped around the blunt tip before you dive back down.

“Fuuuck, that's so good. Shit you're so good at that, mi vida.” His praises go straight to your core, making you speed up your actions.

The man tilts his head back and takes the cig out of his mouth, the end now getting dangerously close to his fingers, but he couldn't care less, all he cares about is the wet heat of your mouth already pushing him closer and closer to his orgasm. He takes one last drag and puts out the butt as it reaches his fingers, taking in a sharp inhale when you deepthroat him again just as it burns his finger tips. “Such a good fucktoy, goddamn angel…”

His groans get louder, your head now bobbing up and down on him rhythmically as you twist your fist around his throbbing length in just the right way.

Hand joining the other, he pushes you down once, then twice. “Just a little more darlin’, ya can do it, I know ya can—,” his pants are heavy, low moans cut off by gasps. “Gonna come down that pretty throat, just a little further, sweetheart.” You feel his hips lift off the window sill and towards your face, the gesture making you choke a bit before you take him fully again, fingernails digging into his plump thighs enough to leave marks as your face scrunches up.

It's only a few more seconds and he's coming down your throat, just as he said he would. You can barely taste the saltiness as he moans loudly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat with his back arched enough to feel his tummy on your forehead. You pull off after a few moments with gasps, your chest rising and falling quickly as you take in the air you'd briefly missed out on.

“Ay cariño… ‘m sorry, are ya ok?” Jake's gaze is still lidded and dopey, though a lot softer now, and you feel his thumb run over your cheek.

“Yes,” you say hoarsely, giggling afterwards at the sound of your voice while you wipe the spit from your chin. “It was hot. I liked it, honey, don't worry.”

He sighs, a smile replacing the worried frown his had on his face just seconds before. “Ah, good, angel,” he leans down and kisses you, not caring about the taste of himself on your lips. “You owe me an orgasm though.” You mumble on his lips, feeling the low chuckle rumble in his chest as he joins you on the floor without even pulling away from your plump lips.

”I can do that, cariño.”

+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡

Jake hasn't been out since that morning, and now it's getting to 3 days, and you're worried.

Did your odd little kink freak him out? Maybe the thought that his lover gets off on him damaging his lungs made him uncomfortable.— No, that's not the sexy part, because that WOULD be weird. It's watching him carefully, masterfully, assemble the tobacco. Watching the way he rolls it between his thick digits and runs his tongue over the edge before lighting it. You'd noticed how his eyes close in satisfaction with that first drag, and how his eyelids lower to a more relaxed manner, giving him that deadly lidded gaze that is sure to be the death of you.

The presence creeping up behind you breaks your train of thought, and you sigh contentedly as you feel large, warm hands run over your shoulders tenderly. You drag your eyes away from the tv screen to tilt your head back and look at one of your boyfriends, whichever one it is.

Jake always insisted on growing his facial hair out, but Marc and Steven are so strongly against it that you'd think they have some kind of personal vendetta against it. That being said, it's hard to tell them apart sometimes, especially when you're looking at them upside down.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hello, angel.”

Blood instantly rushes to your face, and you know Jake notices it, given the way his lips quirk into a grin.

“Took you long enough…” You mumble softly, lifting your head to avoid his burning gaze.

“Ay, I know I know. I ain't really got an excuse.” He gives your shoulder one last pat before moving around to the couch and placing himself down next to you, arm promptly resting on the couch behind your head. “Did ya miss me, though?” His fingers toy with your ear, a gesture that he'd quickly and delightedly learnt annoys you.

Your silence is met by a dark chuckle from the man. “Did ya miss these?” The sound of cardboard rustling grabs your attention, your head slowly turning towards him before your eyes focus on the box of cigarettes in front of you.

“I thought you didn't like ‘pre-rolled bullshit'.” You quote his words with a scoff to hide the excitement already bubbling up inside you.

“I don't, but they come in handy, don't they? ‘Specially if I'm tryna rile ya up again.”

His left leg is crossed over the other in a casual sitting position, body angled towards you invitingly with his arms spread wide enough to make his t-shirt stretch across his toned chest.

“So… you didn't find it weird then?” Voice tentative, you shuffle over to him, having missed his tight bear hugs and calming tone of voice… even if his cockiness does get on your nerves sometimes.

A small frown replaces the grin that almost constantly adorned his face. “No, mi vida, ‘course not.” His hand reaches towards your face, calloused thumb running under your eyes softly. “I'm just as into it as you are, hell, I thought that was obvious.” His low chuckle makes your chest warm and a smile break the pouty look you had plastered across your face, especially when he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Thank fucking god.”

A deep laugh from your boyfriend only makes your face and body grow warmer, the smile widening before you lean into his lips to place a kiss on them.

“Ya could've spoken to the other two.” He says, hands resting on your waist to pull you closer for a cuddle.

“Didn't wanna worry them.” It's almost remarkable how quickly you melt into their arms, quicker than you have with any other person… ever, really.

Jake's fingers trace your face gently, eyes roaming all over your features and drinking them in as if he hasn't seen you in years. “Ay cariño, you're too kind for ya own good.” He chuckles softly, pressing another, slightly longer kiss on your lips.

That slightly longer turns into much longer, which then turns into you panting into eachothers's mouth, craving one another as if it's integral to your survival.

“Please do it again, honey, wanna see you do it again.”

The friction from your bodies grinding relentlessly together has him dazed, his brain taking a few seconds to compute.

“Oh, angel, so impatient,” he teases as he grabs the box of cigs from the table and pulls one out. He runs it under his nose and takes a big whiff, letting out a loud, pleasured groan afterwards to make you giggle at his silliness, which you do.

You bite your lip, and he puts the stick between his rosy lips, looking up at you hungrily. “This what ya wanted, darlin’? ‘S this what you've been waitin’ for?” His tone is almost condescending, but his words roll off of his tongue in such a smooth way that you're quick to forgive him.

Your hips automatically grind down on him as you nod, biting your lip hard, before you feel his hands land on your waist again, traveling underneath your shirt and over your warm skin until you feel his fingers just brush over your left nipple. The hem of your shirt moves past your face before you can even think about it, your eyes still glued to his pretty mouth as you roll your hips on him to pull those soft grunts from his throat.

“Look at ya, I've barely touched ya and you're all worked up.” He grins as he brings his hand down to the waistband of your sweats to slide them lovingly down your thighs. It's a little mortifying how you don't even question him, how you don't even need anymore working up thanks to a heated make-out session and the sight of the cig hanging from his lips loosely. You lift your ass to help him pull them down, your underwear following suit.

That's when you realize he hasn't even taken his grey t-shirt off, and you're stark naked in his lap.

“This has got to have a name...” You rest your hands on his chest, the feeling of your bare cunt grinding against his jeans making you tilt your head back.

“Hmm?” He asks, undoing his belt buckle and fly.

“Your thing for having me completely naked while you can't even be bothered to take your shirt off.”

He laughs at that. “Maybe, ya should look it up later. See if it's on that woman's TikTok page.” He pulls his twitching cock out of the confines of his boxers, running his thumb over the ruddy tip. The gesture makes you take in a soft inhale, inching your hips closer to him so you can let his cock slide between your folds and through your arousal.

You both groan at the movement, and you watch Jake shuffle in his pocket for his lighter moments later, bringing the small flame to the end of the cig to light it. His chest expands, and then deflates as he blows the smoke away.

“You're so gorgeous, mi vida.” He says softly, two fingers holding the cigarette tightly as he runs them across your flesh to make goosebumps prickle across your arms and your cheeks heat up.

“And you're so handsome, Jakey.” You moan softly as he brings his mouth close to your chest and places kisses all over the expanse of skin, guiding your hand down between your bodies to help him slide inside you.

He pulls away and places the stick between his lips again to take in another drag and admire the picture in front of him. “Such a pretty angel,” he reiterates, feeling your warmth envelop his aching length as you sink down on him.

Your thighs shudder just a little, a pant escaping your lips as your hole stretches around him with ease, used to their girth by now.

“Love the dumb little look on ya face when ya take it, cariño. Ya like havin’ me stretch ya open like this?” Jake's words travel straight to your core, fueling the fire in your tummy as you lift your hips just to sink back down on him.

“Yes, baby, I love the way you stretch me open.”

The moan that comes from his lips is wonderful, and it's followed by another billow of smoke, the cig back in the corner of his mouth so he can guide your hips. You can see him already gritting his teeth around it, taking in sharp inhales as you start a deep rhythm on him.

“Oh baby…” You moan. You desperately want to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but the sight of him fucking you with that deathstick between his teeth is too glorious, penance for the time you spent worrying. “Shit, you look so hot, Jake. So fucking sexy…” You groan as he grasps your ass, gripping the flesh and dragging you down on his cock with growls.

“Ya look even better takin’ it, darlin’, ya take it so well; my pretty slut.”

You grip his shoulders, cursing him for being able to push your buttons and make you whine at the most humiliating of names. Your body always tells him different, though, especially as you start bouncing faster on his cock, feeling it hit that fucking sweet spot each time you come down on him.

Jake is panting too now, and he has to hold the cig between his fingers again to stop it from dropping on you. “Ya feel so good squeezin’ me like that, cariño… Fuck this cunt is magical–.” He still has a grip on your hip, and uses it as leverage so that he can start bucking his hips into your wet heat.

Needless to say, you aren't going to last much longer.

“J-ake! Honey… Fuck I'm so close–agh!-.” Your walls clench around him while your hand slips between your legs to circle your clit, eyes opening briefly to get a glimpse at the sight you'd been waiting to see for what felt like weeks.

That's it, that's all you needed as you sink down on him and grind your cunt against your hand, panting and moaning with your head thrown back. Waves of pleasure rush over you and soak through your bones entirely, your toes clenching like your walls.

You release the grip you had on his shoulders, not that he seemed to mind, that is, before leaning forward to kiss him. You don't care about the smokey taste on his tongue because all you want is him, his taste.

“Mmnnn… We ain't done yet, darlin’,” Jake pulls from the kiss and gestures to the half burnt cigarette as he places it back between his lips.

He gropes your waist and pulls you off of his cock with a soft yelp from you, instead pressing you down into the couch, face turned outwards so he can lean down and look at your face. This position always makes you whine, always makes your legs shake as you try to keep yourself up, and Jake never goes easy on you. He likes seeing the way your ass and thighs bounce as he brings you back on him, and loves hearing the filthy noises that are produced in the process.

The feeling of him splitting you open again has you biting on the cushion, your thoughts from before being true as he ruthlessly fucks into you, loud growls and grunts rumbling in his chest and ringing in your ears.

It's hard to ignore how good it makes you feel when he uses you like this. Sure you love the soft and tender moments you get with the three of them, but once you'd felt what they can really do to you, there was no going back.

You're surprised you haven't ripped the cushion cover from how hard you're gripping it, dumb, cock drunk whines and whimpers falling from your lips as the man fucks you closer and closer to another orgasm.

He leans over you, cigarette barely staying between his lips as he watches your eyes screw shut and random gibberish fall from your mouth.

“Ay, my pretty little fucktoy. Ya love it when I'm rough with ya, don't ya?” He pants and strokes his hand down your chest, running all the way down your tummy till he reaches your swollen clit. “Love it when I… when I use ya.”

His strong and composed facade is faltering, just as it usually does when he's getting close, sitting up again to throw his head back and take puffs of his almost completely gone cigarette.

You can see colours dancing behind your eyelids with how tightly they're screwed shut, the way his fingers are rubbing your clit being almost unbearable as you let out cries and pleas to come again.

“Yeah cariño, that's it, cum all over my cock, lemme feel ya twitch.”

An even stronger wave than before crashes over you and wracks your whole body. Your moans get stuck in your throat as you milk Jake of all he has, his own orgasm having hit him after you'd shrieked his name.

Thankfully, he's quick to remove his fingers from your throbbing clit, knowing it gets a little too sensitive after two mind-blowing orgasms.

”AH FUCK-”

Your post-nut bliss is interrupted by a pained yelp from the man, making you crane your neck to look back at him frantically pulling the cigarette butt from his lips and putting it out in the ashtray.

You laugh, albeit sleepily, and watch his dopey gaze drift to yours as he chuckles lowly. “Fuckin’ cigarettes… maybe next time I should get some of those fake ones.” He jokes as he pulls out of you and touches his sore lips.

You giggle and sit up wobbly, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. “I did think when we started that it was a little dangerous.”

“Ay, ya live and ya learn.”

You both laugh and Jake presses his face into your neck, placing soft kisses as he falls back against the couch with a thump, taking you with him.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #jake lockley #moon knight smut #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac characters

[ryanmarshallryan]

I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

#gayvore #male vore #m/m vore #fat

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

A Companion to Owls.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Job 30:29-31 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.

Continuing my analysis of the narrator/POV perspective of Good Omens season two with a look at the episode 2 minisode set in 2500 BC, Uz. God, I love this minisode.

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

We open our journey into the land of Uz with Crowley giving Job's goats a speech that sounds awfully similar to his own troubled relationship with The Almighty. Crowley is alone here. The episode cold-opens and we've had no lead up to suggest otherwise, so this is Crowley's POV. His hair is short and more vibrant, I'd say this is likely the Black Diffusion FX filter.

Yes for the sake of this post I am doubling down on the fact that there are TWO SEPARATE WIGS. See more here.

Aziraphale arrives, he looks cute and silly, the permit is long, the goats are "destroyed" and they part ways.

The next scene we get is Aziraphale in heaven checking with Muriel and the Archangels that the permit Crowley has is in fact legitimate. This time, we are seeing Aziraphale's POV. Heaven is a stark white office building but the golden hue is almost overwhelming in this flashback. The Bronze Glimmer Glass filter is clearly being used here.

Aziraphale decides he's going to confront Crowley about saving the children, little does he know Crowley wouldn't harm them to begin with but regardless...

When we re-enter the minisode, we do so via a subtle zoom in on Crowley's face in modern day. We then enter the scene through Aziraphale's illustrated Bible and see Crowley asking Job where his kids are. We've again lost the golden glow of the BGG filter, moved back to the BDFX filter and into Crowley's POV. Crowley's hair is still short, Aziraphale isn't present here, he's alone, so these are his memories.

When we see Crowley walking up to the house to find the kids we have switched back to Aziraphale's POV. The scene is extremely warmly lit, it's soft and yellow, and Crowley is now in a different wig. His hair is much longer, softer and more attractive looking. In one of the X-Ray behind the Scenes videos I even caught a screenshot of the film slate from this scene and you can clearly that they've written in BGG as the filter used, so we have confirmation.

We continue through the Job minisode in Aziraphale's POV. The reveal of the goats, saving the kids, the ox rib temptation, the first conversation about loneliness, it's all from Aziraphale's POV. until after he "comes to" in the bookshop in present day.

When we revisit the minisode, and for the remainder of it we are seeing it from Crowley's POV which was an interesting thing to realize. We see Crowley and Aziraphale witness Job speaking with God, saving Jobs children, deceiving the Archangels, and having their emotionally revealing conversation overlooking the beautiful sea all from Crowley's POV. His hair remains short and more vibrant red throughout all of it, we don't see the return of his long long gingery waves. The lighting when the angels are present for the children's "resurrection" is very warm but I'm going to chalk that up to the Heavenly Hosts presence.

It makes sense that this reaction is Crowley's POV. Silly silly angel, did a good deed and thinks he's a demon?! But then he realizes how upset Aziraphale is, how scared and he comforts him. He tells him he isn't going to do anything that would hurt him, that would get him in trouble. Then, something about the fact that what follows is also from Crowley's memories, his perspective...

"That sounds..."

"Lonely? Yeah."

"But you said it wasn't."

"I'm a demon. I lied."

NEXT POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

#good omens #good omens 2 #michael sheen #david tennant #crowley #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #good omens theories #good omens clues #good omens theory #good omens analysis #good omens clue #good omens mystery #ineffable mystery #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #ineffable spouses #ineffable idiots

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Kink Discovery- Pt. 1

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Chris wants to try to spice things up in the bedroom with you by trying out new things. He comes to you (pun intended) with a blindfold and a dream.

TW: anxiety/panic, blindfolds, SMUT

"Hey Chris." I roll onto the bed next to him. He opens his arm, giving me access to cuddle up against him.

"Hey, baby? Would you want to spice up the bedroom?" He asks.

"What? I like the decor in here though." I point to the silly things around his room.

"No- I mean like-" His face is red. "I mean, would you want to try new things...like sexually?" He whispers the last part.

@sturniozo

"Oh." I realize what he means.

"We don't have to. We can just pretend I didn't say anything." He backtracks.

"No, no. It's just- you don't want to try new things cause I'm boring...do you?" His eyes go wide and he shakes his head.

"No! Not at all! I heard Matt's girlfriend talking to her friend is all." His voice is low. "She was saying how when she and Matt...switch things up...it feels really good, from her perspective. I just want to make you feel good." He stares at the ceiling. I turn onto my side, looking at his face.

"What'd you have in mind?" Red creeps down his neck.

"Um, I was thinking we could kind of just come up with things and bring them up to each other."

"I figured as much. But, what do you have in mind right now. I know you have something specific you want to do. What is it?" He bites his lip. He reaches into his bedside table drawer and pulls out a soft length of material, handing it to me. "A...?"

"Blindfold. It's a blindfold." Oh. "We don't have to. I just thought it would be interesting-"

"Well, Chris, I'm going to be honest here. I don't know if I'm cool with it. Not being able to see? It's scary." I wring my hand around the opposite wrist. He's quiet for a while. For a long time, we just lay there in silence.

"What." He starts. "What if I try it first? To make you more comfortable? You can blindfold me, and you can see if you'd be okay with it based off of that?" He offers. He's so thoughtful. I can see an olive branch when it's being offered to me.

"Yeah. We can try." I meet him halfway. He lights up, and leans in, kissing me. Quickly, the kiss turns messy and hungry. Lips softly touching turns into tongues dancing together.

"Aw, fuck." He pulls away from the kiss, leaning his head against mine. I look him up and down, stopping when I spot the darkness on the crotch of his shorts.

"Are you that excited about this?" I tease him lightly.

"Can we try it now?" He pleads with me. His lips are puffy from the kissing we were doing, and I can't help but agree.

"C'mere." I hold up the blindfold to his face. He comes closer, allowing me to tie the fabric, covering his eyes; taking away his sight. It's a simple black fabric, yet it looks amazing on him. I can't think of anything to say, so I begin stripping. My shirt comes off, then I shimmy out of my pants.

"Baby? You still there?" Chris pats his hand out into the air, trying to find me.

"Yeah. I'm here." I say, breathy. He whines, still trying to grab for me. "Stay still." He stops moving. I move, taking his shorts off and pushing his shirt up.

"Fuck, ma- please. Everything feels so, so much more." He emphasizes the word more, and wiggles his hips.

"Tell me about it baby." I plead. As he begins to speak, I place my hand on the bulge in his boxers. He gasps.

"Fuck ma!" He whines out. "Please. It's so much but not enough. Need your skin on mine. Please." I give in. I slip my hand into his boxers, letting my hand trace him.

"Feel good?"

"Fuck, yes, ma. So good. Please don't stop." I take him fully into my hand and begin stroking him. He hisses a breath through his teeth. This goes on for a few minutes. "Shit ma, I already feel close. 'S good." His face contorts, and a certain pang hits my chest. I wish I could see his eyes.

"How close?" I speed up.

"Shit, ma. Just like that- so close ma. Embarrassing how close." He grips the sheets under him. His voice is strained and rough.

"Yeah?" I dip my head down, placing kitten licks to his tip. "You're close? So fucking close." I rub my thumb over his head.

"Shit- love when you curse ma. 'S so hot. Aw fuck- just like that." I grin, and dip my head back down, taking his head into my mouth. I suckle on it. "Fuck ma- shit- I- I'm about to-" He stumbles over his words before stumbling over that edge. He finishes in my mouth. I let it drip out of my mouth and back onto him as I continue to move y mouth over him. "Shit me. Stop, stop, stop. 'M sensitive."

I pull away from him. I reach up, moving the blindfold off of his eyes. They're glossy and so blue it fucking hurts. "You're so pretty." I tell him, brushing his face with my hand. He groans softly.

"Come cuddle." He demands.

"Yes, yes, princess." I tease. He pouts and huffs at me. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming to cuddle. Calm your tits." He rolls his eyes, but accepts my cuddles anyway.

"Was really good." He says softly.

"I think I'd be okay with trying it now. Not right now. I wanna cuddle now." I nuzzle against him. He lets out soft murmurs of agreement.

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #zeroskinkdiscoveryseries

[etoilesbienne]

Forever's Entire Proposal to BadBoyHalo q!BBH Analysis + Transcript below the cut.

Before I start, I want to make clear this is from BBH's perspective + mentality, and I do not speak Portuguese, as well as none of this is intended as character writing criticism. I really like the direction both of these characters are going in, I just want to highlight how much of a horror show this scene is! I'm starting much earlier than what's shown in the clip at the top, unfortunately Tumblr's file limits exist :/ Timestamp for the entire clip I'm using is at here in BBH's vod.

Some preface for everything going on in this scene and context:

For one, Forever's current drugged arc has continued references to the Vargas Era in Brazilian history, which, to heavily oversimplify, is a period when culture was suppressed by Getúlio Vargas, a 1930's Brazilian dictator, and made to look very perfected to the outside world to cover up the many issues from the government at the time. (I really recommend looking more into the Vargas Era on your own, I can say I've found every reading on this topic to be both interesting, as well as gives Forever's current arc a really good layer of historical reference with his presidency. It's a good topic to look into!)

Mostly, it's a representation of how fucked Forever's mental state currently is. Not only is he erratic from the drugs he was put under - He's actively been washed over with nationalistic propaganda. That's fucking horrifying for the President of the island to be under! It gains another layer of horror as well, because to all of the islanders, Forever is the only community member with any perceived sort of power. Him becoming erratic - pulling a gun on Phil, forcing other people to sign up for the drugs and medical procedure he went under - it's something that carries weight in terms of the island being united and working together, and is currently reinforcing the concerns the French group had with seeing him as unfit for power, with BBH included in all of these presidential coup meetings as being a sort of "honorary french" deal.

On Bad's side, however, is the known fact he finds marriage overrated, and meta-wise cc!BBH has mentioned he's playing a "more aromantic approach" because he doesn't want to be another character stuck in the shipping boat. (This isn't a knock against shipping, I just think it's good knowledge to have about q!BBH's character/stance on romance going into this.) And then finally, when the link timestamp starts, but before Forever has truly begun his serious conversation, BBH does this:

He switches out his regular Totem of Undying to specifically a Death totem. It's very quick, but I think it sets up his mentality going into this... I think he expected Forever's final reaction.

Forever: Here, Bad. BadBoyHalo: Hello. F: Hello! F & BBH, simultaneously: So, uh - BBH: Do you know where any of the kids are? F: I know where Richarlyson is, but, oh uh maybe we should go a little bit further there's a translator screen. BBH: Okay. F: Otherwise, I want my chat to know what we're talking about.

[Break for when they move the benches again]

F: Here, nice, nice, nice. F: OH! It's even better! BBH: Yay. F: It's perfect, I would say! BBH: So, you don't - F: Yeah, I don't know where the eggs are, Bad, but I'm really - there's something I know, okay? BBH: Uh-huh. F: I can tell you. BBH: Tell me. F: They are just good and fine, okay? BBH: What do you mean? F: They're fine! They're well! BBH: Look, what do you want, Forever? F: Ah, I want to get married! BBH: No, I mean, like, what do you want? F: Why? BBH: Like, if you know what happened to the - F: Why… don't we just get married! BBH: Do you know what happened to the eggs? Do you know where they are? F: Let's get married. BBH: What's happening, Forever? Etoiles: [mumbling] Fit: Hooray. Tina: Hip Hip Hooray! F: Let's - Let's just get married. Fit: Hooray. Tina: Hip Hip Hooray! Fit: Hooray. Wooooooo. Tina: He saved us. That's crazy! BBH: Okay. Oh, hey Etoiles. You - You're not focused, Forever. Tina: It's probably the most beautiful battle ever! Of all time! In a rose field! F: Yeah, I'm totally focused! I'm happy! Etoiles: Thank you, Tina! Tina: Yes! BBH: No - No, you're focused on the wrong thing - Etoiles: You see, I clicked well! I clicked well! F: Guys, can you give me and Bad a moment, please? - Tina: [Overlapping with Forever] I'm so sorry - F: - We are having a deep conversation, I am asking him to get married! Tina: - I'm so sorry Mr. President, I didn't know. Etoiles: Okay! Okay, Forever, what I, Forever, I - I don't understand, like, there's the code who's attacking us, and you don't give a shit, but you are the president? F: Where - Where is the codes? I want to help you guys! Everything will be perfect! Tell me. Pierre: Congratulations Badboy and Mr. President, congratulations F: If the codes are not here right now, Etoiles, you are just being inconvenient, because I want to get married, and you are just in the way, man - Etoiles: Okay - F: - Go away, please! Etoiles: Okay, okay, I will go away. Okay, okay. F: If the codes show up, you will tell me, okay? BBH: [short confused laugh] F: [cheering as Etoiles walks away] YES! BBH: [looking around at the sky] F: See, Bad? This is how we solve problems. Isn't that perfect? Pierre: Can I be your best man for the wedding? BBH: What? No? There's not gonna be a wedding - F: He asks me for drugs all the time, Bad, he just asks me for drugs. BBH: - okay? F: [laughing] Pierre: Huh? BBH: He's obviously not in his right mind, AyPierre. Pierre: Yes, look at this smile! Must use a lot of uh… BBH: A smile doesn't mean a whole lot. F: Pierre, I will, I will tell Cucurucho, man, I told you already. Pierre: Yes, I want to be happy… F: Cucurucho will come to you and he will put the smile on your face! Pierre: Yes! F: Now go away, I want to get married. Pierre: I want it! F: (Portuguese as Pierre leaves) F: Oh my god, finally some silence. So Bad, BBH: mhm. F: Don't you think this place looks beautiful? BBH: I guess. F: Oh my god, they're still around so the translator is just crazy. Let's change it again please. Sorry, but - F: (Portuguese, I am assuming it is more ooc focused, my apologies. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me!)

[Break for when they move locations, this is where the clip above begins.]

F: So Bad, BBH: Yes? F: What is it going to be? Are you going to get married, or not? BBH: Why do you want to get married? F: Yeah, because everything's perfect, right? A marriage would be perfect, as well! BBH: Why do you think everything's perfect? F: Why don't you think everything's perfect? BBH: Because we don't have our kids, Forever. They're gone. F: No, no they're just fine, man! You are not seeing the world the way you should, Bad, and I'm going to tell you - BBH: How should I be seeing it? F: I'm here for you, buddy. I'm here for you, buddy, okay? BBH: Is anyone here for you? F: And I'm going to tell Cucurucho that he should help you! Like he did to me. BBH: I don't want his help. F: You need his help, Bad. Just - BBH: I don't need his help, Forever. F: - Bad, you are looking bad, Bad, - BBH: I feel fine. F: - you know? BBH: You know what would help me, Forever? F: So let's get married! BBH: Forever. You know what would help me? F: Hm? What? BBH: Tell that white puffball to give me my son back. To bring back all of our kids. F: White puffball? What does that mean? BBH: Cucurucho. F: Okay. BBH: What does he want? What does he want, Forever? Does he want diamonds? F: Why do you think Cucurucho is the one with the eggs? Why do you think Cucurucho is the one with your child? BBH: I know it was him, Forever. F: What are you guys getting from exploding the whole city? Why did I become the president that's trying to help everyone, and you guys are just exploding everything? This is funny man, this is perfect. [laughs] You know? You guys are just too crazy! [laughs] Man, you guys are exploding stuff, and you all are saying that I need help? [laughs] That's funny, man, that's funny! BBH: We need our kids back, Forever. That's why. We'll stop, all Cucurucho has to do is return the eggs. I want Dapper back, I want Pomme back, all the kids back. F: Why do you think Cucurucho is the one with the eggs? BBH: He obviously is the one with the eggs, okay? F: What proof do you have? BBH: Remember - F: Cucurucho's great, Bad. BBH: - I saw - F: Uh huh. BBH: - It was a strange person in the federation building, Mysterioso or whatever his name was? F: [laughs] Yeah, he doesn't like [I cannot figure out what he says here] BBH: I saw him at the federation building. I bet that's the same person who gave Sofia's plans to Maximus. F: [laughing] BBH: That means the Federation was responsible for Sofia. F: Okay, okay. BBH: That means they're behind everything! There's not anything they don't know about. F: Did Maximus tell you that that man is the same one that gave Sofia to him. BBH: He said it was a mysterious hooded figure, and there's only one - F: There's only - Can only be one - BBH: - mysterious hooded figure. F: - It can only be one. BBH: If the federation does not - did not take the kids, they know who did, and they know where they are - F: Ohh. BBH: - I just want them back, that's it. F: Yeah.

BBH: What do they want - What do they want, Forever? Mr. President? You're in contact with them, what do they want? F: Well, Bad, I can tell you something, you know? This is actually quite funny, this is actually quite funny. BBH: What's funny about it? F: So everyone on the island thinks that I, being the president - me, being the president - means that I'm working for the Federation, but do you know what you guys don't see? BBH: What? F: I am the only one working for you guys! A favor(?), you know, the federation does what they want. I'm the only one that tried to represent the people of the island. BBH: So you're trying to get our kids back? F: Oh, they're just fine right now. BBH: Where are they? F: I don't know, sleeping maybe? BBH: How do you they're fine? F: Cucurucho said it's classified! Isn't that funny? BBH: Do you believe it? F: That it's classified? I don't know, is there anything to believe in that? BBH: [sighs] BBH: What happened to you, Forever? F: What? BBH: What happened to you? What did they do to you? F: Uh, I don't know what you're talking about, Bad. I'm just feeling so good, 'cuz everything's so good man. BBH: This isn't like you. You're not acting like yourself. F: Why? Why, I'm happy? I'm not happy? You say I'm not a happy person? BBH: That's just it Forever, you wouldn't be this happy with Richarlyson missing. F: Richarlyson's okay, he's just - BBH: Is he? Is he? F: - sleeping a lot. BBH: Has he gotten up? Has he danced around? Has he put any signs down? Has he said anything to you? Have you built any projects with him recently? Have you done anything with him at all? F: [Deep sigh that turns into a laugh] No, no. BBH: Then how is he fine? F: [long pause] Bad, I have something I would like to show you. Or maybe test on you. BBH: What? F: You know, you guys are just so funny with that clock joke. BBH: Clock joke? F: Yeah, I want to test something. F: Don't you want to get married? BBH: I want my son back. I want Dapper, Pomme, F: [begins launching mines] BBH: [evades, throws health potions] F: STOP THAT FUCKING CLOCK NOISE. BBH: You like your mines, Forever? BBH: It won't bring Richarlyson back.

To start from the beginning, BBH is under no pretenses that this would be a marriage proposal of all things. All he is aware of is that Forever wants to have a serious discussion with him. He's also gone out of his way to put himself on a Death totem, meaning he has every possibility to be downed if Forever were to successfully attack him.

With Forever's current mental state and reinforcing a societal idealism & a desired performance of aggressive happiness and "normalcy" - his character now desiring something like a marriage can be read multiple ways. For one, an imitation of how one of his closest friends, his ex-husband no less, was recently married and is currently considered one of the best federation workers (albeit begrudging on Cellbit's part). For two, a marriage is a pretty huge symbol of a plastique performance of a perfect life. Especially in this context, it's saccharine, it's a status symbol, everyone wants it. With the medication as well, we don't truly know if Forever genuinely feels strongly about BBH to want to marry him, or if he feels he has to be in a marriage for a "perfect" life with BBH being "the best option" as a spouse. (Again, this is not a criticism of Forever's character, this is a very symbolically rich move for him to do, and I, personally, cannot get enough of it.)

Now back to BBH, this is a guy who is admittedly not looking for romance, not trying to romance anyone, and is currently in the middle of a character arc having to do with how pissed he is at Forever for not running the government in a way he approves, and then getting wrongfully jailed by Forever. I do not think BBH is in any way afraid of Forever as a person, but I do think BBH has concerns about what he may be forced to do in an attempt to get his children back. BBH as a character in general has very, very little regard for his own life, watch a pov of himself in a dungeon and just see how many totems pop, but he does care about his kids more than anything else in the world. The way his character goes about his care for his kids isn't something that often occurs in more masculine-presented characters like him either, frankly I think a lot of more ship oriented readings of him end up hyper-feminizing him* because of this "maternal" archetype.

In a return to Forever's saccharine performance of perfectionism, I find the moments Forever makes the both of them move across the rose field - The rose field, previously quite literally stained by blood as Etoiles had just finished another battle with the code there, tensions are running high and everyone is still distressed from the eggs going missing - I realize it's because cc!Forever ooc wanted to move to not have the chatbox be interrupted by other people speaking, but it's just so good thematically. He keeps moving to have a better view of roses. It's never perfect enough. They have to keep moving. They have to be alone. Nobody else is allowed to be around when he corners BBH with the marriage proposal. Nobody can get in the way.

Speaking of people interrupting, the other members appearing in the middle of the conversation adds to the fridge horror that's been subtly happening all the way through. Nobody pauses and makes sure BBH is okay throughout this scene, everybody is extremely sure that he is fine and can handle himself. The only person to even make a criticism of Forever is Etoiles, over being somewhat irritated that it looks like Forever has been doing little to nothing as President to aid new members or former islanders (despite this technically not being true, Etoiles has seen none of it, and has been giving new players items continuously in an effort to help them, as well as has had little time to do anything except fight code entities).

And then onto the rejection, BBH never agrees to the marriage at all, because why would he? I've seen quite a lot of discussion thus far that he doesn't reject Forever outright, but I disagree, it's a little moment in there, and I couldn't get it in the video posted itself, but he explicitly tells Pierre "there's not gonna be a wedding," and then is cut off by Forever. It's quiet, I don't think many people heard it outright, but BBH is right in his assertion Forever isn't in his right mind to be asking for marriage in the first place.

The other side of that, however, is that BBH is very well aware Forever didn't want to hear an outright rejection either. BBH knows what Forever is capable of, and he knows this version of Forever is not his usual self. It's not an easy situation, especially when he's fully under the impression Forever does have some power with the Federation, and fully believes the Federation has the eggs. Whether or not this is actually true doesn't really matter to Bad's perspective here, he's deadset in this belief. With that belief in mind, how is someone supposed to respond to being cornered about marriage - a concept he has little interest in - but the person cornering him is 1. known to be volatile due to recent events, 2. potentially has some form of contact to the people currently holding the eggs captive, and potentially put his children more at risk than they already are, 3. the literal only person in power on the island.

I don't think BBH ever believed he had the option to outright tell Forever no, he's in a depressed state as is, his kids might be dead for all he knows, and he has the impression Forever could bring harm to them.

Admittedly it is interesting how many outright untrue facts BBH holds onto, but cannot change his belief in them. His opinion and perspective of Forever is one thing, but it's much, much more obvious when he brings up the connection between the new Mysterioso and the previous masked person who gave the plans for Sofia to Maxo, those were two separate unknown figures as we know as the audience, but Bad does not know this, and does make assumptions and connect dots in his own right, tending to his own detriment. This is all intended here, he's wrong about Forever factually, but to his knowledge he's acting in the best way he can. He's under the impression Forever is just not telling the full truth to him about everything with the eggs disappearing, and believes the federation is lying. I think it's made even more obvious he's prioritizing the eggs over everything else here, especially with his final statement about Richarlyson. BBH believes the eggs are the only true way to every player's heart, and blatantly ignores the actual romance aspect of what marriage implies, because romance genuinely does not matter to him at all. He doesn't have time to worry about being in a relationship if his son might be dead.

Mostly, I find this scene to be a great relationship horror set up, because damn if I haven't been on dates like this, where I feel like I can't say no or something might happen. I understand the paranoia and anxiety surrounding q!BBH's mindset in the moment. It isn't a rational response by any means, no, but it is a very aggressively human response to this situation for a demon to have.

Basically, I don't think BBH is a fundamentally romantic character in the first place, nor do I think he'd ever be happy in a cutesy marriage position anyway, he never once responds romantically to any of this, and solely prioritizes the eggs, the final Richarlyson line cements this fact. It's not a dig at how Forever will never have BBH romantically - it's a dig at Forever based on what BBH's priority is, his kids.

*I want to be clear this statement is meant to be a neutral fact, it's just worth mentioning in an analysis like this that BBH as a character is more typically set on the feminine side by the fanbase, and how his character's interpretations are influenced by that reading.

#posts from the aether #qsmp #qsmp analysis #q!bbh #q!badboyhalo #4halo #q!4halo #qsmp clips

[bibbibib]

Peeta's amputation

One of the things I really wish we'd gotten more information for in the books was the impact of Peeta losing his leg. On himself, on his habits, his reactions, anything really. We don't even know how badly he took it because around that time all Katniss was able to describe was him (understandably) being just happy to have survived it all along with her, plus he was putting on a brave face throughout the interviews, and maybe even in front of her so she would feel less guilty. And, I get it, most of the stuff I'm going to mention is just slice of life and maybe not that important as plot points, but I find them super interesting, for the perspective if anything.

Would Peeta's self-esteem take another deep dive after that? With everything happening during that time (moving out of his parents' house, his falling out with Katniss, being viewed differently by the rest of the district, living alone and possibly lonely, his romantic hopes crushed, PTSD from the Games, etc etc etc) he had a lot of triggers seemingly supporting those thoughts of being useless and uneeded and generally not good enough.

It's so frustrating to lose a limb and have to basically relearn everything from the beginning. How to navigate stairs, how to get in and out of a sitting position, how to balance and not tip over, stuff you've been doing esentially your whole life. And Peeta was athletic, he worked manually, he trusted himself to be capable of doing physical things, so that might have hurt a little more.

How about medical complications? From weird sensations to nerve pain, possibly phantom pains, everything related to his prosthetic leg (which, depending on the type, can get uncomfortable in sooo many ways, especially since he's still a teenager who's growing). And he was dumped at a place with basically no medical care at all, let alone anything specialized. Which, ok, was part of everyone's life in D12 already, but it must have still left a bitter taste... There was no one around to know much about his state, (exept maybe Ripper the liquor seller) and he had to make do on his own.

What if the Capitol had chosen his prosthetic more for aesthetic functions and less for functional? @whenthewallfell has a fantastic post about it, complete with illustrations!

Peeta's artificial foot getting tangled in the vines in the second arena and impeding his ability to run was no funny business. With prosthetic legs, there's usually different kinds for different functions. Your average foot people use to be able to walk is stiff and does a horrible job at supporting these sorts of activities. That's why equipment like running blades exists for amputees who want to be running and jumping. And you have to switch to that before the activity! Peeta apparently never got one. Even if he had, he would have to carry the alternative equipment around in the arena.

Speaking of that, even with a single type of artificial leg/foot, adjustments are frequently needed throughout the day. Most people as far as I understand remove the prosthetic to sleep, but also ball -and-socket models at least move around and need to be put back in place because it gets uncomfortable (sleeves -stump covers- sliding down, etc). The fact that Katniss never mentioned anything like this means that either he was actively not doing it in front of her or she just doesn't wanna talk about it (or maybe his leg is some fancy Capitol tech that doesn't work that way?)

Also, he's got to be hungry. All the time. He needs more food after the amputation, because the rest of his body is compensating for the lost limp and he has to use different muscles/nerves/tendons/etc. that are not designed spesifically for this. The same thing means he gets tired more easily. So Peeta being that active and training for the Quarter Quell while battling insomnia and nightmares with an amputated leg? Even harder than we thought.

#obligatory I'm not speaking from personal experience #that's reciting things actual amputees have said #peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg

[working-dreamer]

The Person Within: An Analysis Of Professor Layton's Hidden Character Development

Spoilers for practically all of the Layton games!

Hershel Layton as a character is sometimes criticized outside of the fandom for having no personality other than his gentlemanly nature and taking the concept of enjoying puzzles to the extreme.

While I think this criticism shows a blatant misunderstanding to his character, I do think from a different angle that perspective makes Professor Layton more interesting.

Think about it. Most of his personality is taken from the tragedy of those around him. Randall was the one who was originally obsessed with archaeology and puzzles. Claire was the one who originally perceived Hershel as a gentleman (thus giving him the idea.) We don’t really see Layton take these aspects of his personality onto himself until tragedy strikes and these people are taken away from his life.

In the case of Randall's death, Hershel blamed himself for surviving and moved out of town because of his self-loathing and guilt. And when Claire disappeared Layton paused his studies for an unknown amount of time trying to find out what happened until he was beaten into a coma by a group of people associated with her death.

And yet instead of grieving like you’d normally expect from a person who lost his best friend and girlfriend, he internalized their interests and aspects of their personalities into himself. He wears their passions and dreams as his own to remember them. In a way, he’s always reminding himself that he couldn’t save them.

However one might wonder how Layton really feels about those things outside of his previous losses. Does Layton even enjoy archeology and puzzles? Or is it something he has grown to accept in his life simply because he is living out Randall’s dream? Does he feel like he has a choice in the matter?

I can easily imagine Layton having doubts deep within himself: Randall didn’t get to live and it’s my fault. His dreams should live on. I don’t deserve anything else.

Same with Claire. She saw him as a gentleman but he certainly didn’t feel like one after her disappearance if his memory of events is to be taken seriously. How long did it take for him to turn into the perfect gentleman? Especially if it's just a painful reminder of her loss?

It’s probably after waking up from his coma that he starts to really embrace the idea that he has to be the perfect gentleman because he knows he can never get her back. So all he can do is embrace what she thought of him before she died. So with all of this in mind is Layton’s gentlemanly persona genuine to who he is as a person? Or is it just a persona created in order to keep her memory alive?

Layton has kept the shadows of his lost loved ones close to his heart for years and probably would have always done so had he never gotten any closure. However, when Randall turned out to be alive Layton now has the opportunity to let go of that guilt. Claire came back in the future momentarily and Layton got to say goodbye. He no longer needs to keep their personal traits as his own.

So why does he still embody Randall's passion for archeology and puzzles and Claire's perspective that he's the perfect gentleman?

I think it's because Layton doesn't know who he is without these borrowed parts of his personality. Without those aspects that he adopted into himself… who is Hershel Layton? Deep down he is someone who has silently mourned his loved ones and repressed those emotions. And yet most of his life has been embodying said grief. It makes me wonder if Layton would ever look deep within himself and realize that he doesn’t have anything to claim as his own. His entire personality revolves around past guilt and trauma from people he loved and lost.

Shoot even his name isn’t his own! Hershel Layton was actually the name belonging to his brother and in a moment of sacrifice switched names so our Layton could be adopted. So our Layton loses the only family member he has left without even knowing who that is for the majority of his life!

So we have a man who feels guilt and remorse for the deaths of his best friend and his girlfriend so he doesn’t allow himself to develop his own interests and personality because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be his own person. It's even implied that he believed for a time that he didn't deserve to be the one who survived the events that killed his best friend and girlfriend. And then adding to the fact that he never knew his real family so he most likely felt a different kind of loss by not knowing where he came from. All and all we find a man that feels alone and tries to make it right by embodying the traits of those he cared about.

We don’t get to see Layton develop his thoughts on all of this but we do see an interesting development later on. I’d like to think that Layton slowly began to heal after his adventures thanks to adopting Katrielle in the anime.

This is because, for the first time in Layton’s life, he had a family to look after. Someone who doesn't need a mystery-solving archeologist or a perfect gentleman detective. Someone who doesn't need the grand "Professor Layton." This little girl just needs someone to be her father and, while he tries his best, he doesn't really know how to do that.

Sure he had a familial relationship with Luke and Flora, but he never called himself their father. I don’t think he allowed himself that privilege because of all the self-loathing he had been dealing with before. When he adopts Kat it feels like it’s the first time we see Layton truly allowing himself to be a father figure. And yet he is still uncertain about if he should be the one in this role.

Layton feels like his adopted daughter should know where she came from (something he didn’t get to have) before he can start thinking of himself as a father. He’s scared that if he gets attached then it'll hurt worse when she eventually returns to her own family should she decide that is her wish. But if he finds her family first then he doesn’t have the go through that heartache. He wants to find them first so she can make an informed decision.

And he says this with the logic that he always had as “Professor Layton” with that calm and collected smile. Notice that he says "I want to solve this puzzle so that we can become a true family." He doesn't say "so that we will become a true family." It’s almost as if he is going to let Kat decide if she wants to stay with him or go back to her real parents and that choice will be up to her. However, it's somewhat implied that he already thinks that she would naturally choose her real parents if she had the opportunity.

Despite his wishes to be her father, he still seems to be internally preparing himself to say goodbye (hence why he disappeared for so long in the first place.) He just doesn’t want to get too close to another person only to lose them and suffer alone again.

It makes sense why he is distancing himself, but he’ll still solve the mystery. It's what “Professor Layton” would do and he’ll have to accept whatever happens once Kat learns the truth. He doubts that she would still see him as her dad if she could be with her real parents. He doesn't even know himself outside of the role of "Professor Layton" so how can he be a true father to her? She'll go away with her real family eventually anyway. Why would anyone choose him?

And yet when he sees her again Layton is surprised when she immediately cries out for him. She still calls him papa. She wants him to be her papa.

In a public display of overwhelming emotion, we see Layton openly weep for the first time. He is so overcome by these emotions and for once doesn't repress them. He's just so happy to see his daughter again (to truly call Kat his daughter again) and allows himself to fully express those feelings for perhaps the first time in decades.

If Layton from the original game trilogy saw himself like this he would have been mortified by this “un-gentlemanly” behavior. His mindset back then was that a gentleman never cries because he has trouble coming to terms with his emotions. He even chastised Luke in Unwound Future because “a gentleman never makes a scene in public.”

However, he was never a gentleman for himself. It was always for holding onto the guilt of losing his loved ones while trying to honor their memories at the same time. But he doesn’t have to hold himself to those impossible standards anymore. He no longer blames himself for their deaths, he found closure, and now he has found himself in a family who chooses to love him not because of those attributes “Professor Layton” embodied, but because she loves him for the person hidden under that persona. And that is enough for Layton to openly weep as he embraces his child.

I believe Kat's words here helped Layton more than she'll ever know.

So who is Hershel Layton if he’s not a gentleman or a fan of archeology?

The solution to that puzzle is really quite simple.

He is a caring person. And that’s all he ever needs to be.

#professor layton #professor hershel layton #hershel layton #layton #luke triton #flora layton #jean descole #claire foley #randall ascot #pl #katrielle layton #kat layton #lmj #miracle mask #unwound future #azran legacy #plvsaa #plvspw #professor layton vs phoenix wright #pl vs pw #pl vs aa #phoenix wright #professor layton analysis #layton anime #ace attorney #professor layton vs phoenix wright ace attorney #and THAT is what happens when I watch Puss and Boots the Last Wish #Pus' struggle with keeping up with the legend sounds eerily similar to how Layton carried himself after he lost his friends over the years #layton is a deep character doggone it

[fushigurro]

𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘿𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 / 𝘼𝘾𝘾𝙀𝙋𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀.

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / oral (reader receiving) / no power dynamics / a bit of cross-dressing (on gojo's end, but nothing too serious) / food + eating mentions / brief cigarette smoking / a friends to lovers type beat / 1.7k words

“I dunno... I think blue is more my color.”

“No... I like the pink.”

“Really? More than the blue?”

“Not necessarily. I like any color.”

You pull the lollipop from between your red-stained lips, and he considers your perspective.

A mini-skirt of light pink hangs low on Satoru’s hips as he twists them girlishly in the mirror on the bedroom door, checking from every angle, watching as the fabric sways with the motion. The t-shirt he wears with it hugs his torso and rides up from the bottom to rest just above his navel.

For a while you eyed the way the pink garment was juxtaposed against the coarse tuft of white leading down the center, framed by the prominent v-line that likewise disappeared behind the elastic hem. He was sculpted in some sort of heavenly image, you were sure, so of course he wore the trappings of a feminine adolescent with grace, just as any other thing he could think to put on.

But then your eyes move up to study his face, capturing the discerning but leisurely look that crosses it, relatively unbothered by the actual outcome of blue vs. pink, the two colors of the same skirt you’d both purchased for yourselves in a childish frenzy. You, on your belly on the bed, are surrounded by candy wrappers and shopping bags, and wearing the respective blue.

A cigarette hangs from between his lips, turning to ash but breathed in only once. Another distraction, an experimental vice requested at the cash register on a whim as you both stood there side-by-side—excited, gluttonous children. 

There are dates on the calendar in which there's a certain sadness in his eyes, corrupting the crystal blues with the murk of remembered pain. He doesn't speak it, denies any bad feeling with a sugar-coated grin and a pointed playful jab, but you are no fool. He is not impervious to the human condition, nor are you oblivious to the signs of its wear and tear.

Bringing it to the light would likely cause his inner animal—the animal he tries to protect with avoidance—to skitter, causing a rift or lure towards dissociation until he returns with a forced smile. So, for once, you decide that maybe indulging the avoidance might be a method that yields interesting results.

It was all juvenile in nature, littered with the essence of instant gratification and riding the high of impulsivity. But truly, it was tame compared to what other adults your age might’ve done to drive bad thoughts away, trapped in the chokehold of dangerous vices. 

You’d simply urged him to stores, swiping cards and collecting excess, nursing caffeinated drinks, adding to the sugar rush by dropping armfuls of candy boxes into shopping carts. Satoru had even taken a liking to a stuffed white creature with eyes like his own—some sort of popular character adjacent to Hello Kitty, you think. It now sits near you on the bed.

He sighs and deflates, sauntering towards the bedside table where he takes a sip from the soda can there. You rise from where you’d been laying, sitting up on the edge of the mattress and leaning back on your hands as Satoru plops down next to you, matching your posture and jostling ash from the tip of the neglected cigarette. The exciting buzz of the day is starting to wear off, quiet settling between you.

You pull the stick of tobacco from his mouth and remove the candy from your own, slipping the ball of sweetness between his willing lips to create a peculiar flavor. He sucks on it while you switch to inhaling smoke, coughing with a frown and then reaching across him to drop the cigarette in the soda can. Another failed distraction, 19 sticks in a box that’ll go unlit. 

He grins in amusement, skirt draped over muscled thighs. He steals a glance at yours.

“You could always try getting drunk,” you say, exhaling smoke and breaking the silence.

“No way—you know I don't like it.”

It was a last-ditch effort, a grasping at straws. “I know. I don't like it either.”

Silence falls again. There are so many things you know about each other, but so many things you don’t, primarily of the intimate variety. Satoru thinks he might like to learn them.

But first, he has to try and dismiss. Unnerve. Avoid.

His smile droops a little, six-eyes studying you with interest, voice dropping. He’s closer now. 

“Why do you always help me? I could kill you in an instant,” he states casually, finally acknowledging your motives behind the entire fun-filled day, though making a point to reaffirm your weakness compared to his strength.

What a severe choice of words to be paired with a teasing grin, but they aren’t incorrect. He’s nature’s favorite freak. Yours, too.

You meet his gaze, unwavering, stealing the lollipop from him. “’Could’ and ‘would’ are two different things."

He challenges you. “You don’t think I would?”

“In the pink skirt?” Your eyes flit around in thought. “Hmm… no. But maybe the blue.” You smile cheekily, mouth red like his own, and he exhales a chuckle. Beating him at his own game.

“I wouldn’t.”

Satoru’s breath mingles with your own, close enough to breeze against your skin that glows in the fading sunlight from the window. Everything is bare feet, mini skirts, and orange sunset, with a heaping spoonful of sugar and feelings rising to the surface. Childlike milieu. Leaning in for a kiss feels like the only viable option.

You’ve never tasted his lips before, and you know they don’t naturally emulate cigarettes, but that’s how they are to you now. It’s a similar thing from his perspective; however, it doesn’t deter either of you from spreading the flavor between you with slow, languid licks that also share a hint of strawberry lollipop, the paper stick pinched between your fingers, momentarily forgotten. 

There’s a hand on your thigh as breathing patterns start to change, bodies wanting to melt together the longer you lap at each other’s mouths. But it isn’t hurried, the sugar crash making it a little drunken; or maybe the satisfaction of finally merging just puts the two of you at ease.

Satoru pulls back, tipsy from spit and indulgence, but seeking more of you now that he’s discovered the perfect medicine. The tips of his fingers inch higher up the inside of your thigh, and you pop the sucker back onto your tongue to suppress a moan.

“Let me try something else?” he asks with heavy lids, eyeing your pretty lips and pleading for this final distraction. But it’s not really a distraction anymore.

You’re staring at his lips too, nodding and humming around the candy in your mouth. 

Satoru’s knees meet the carpet in front of you, palms spreading your thighs apart so that he can see the panties you’re wearing beneath your skirt. It shouldn’t feel like home for him here when he’s never even visited before, but it does, on both your end and his.

When his fingers clutch the waistband to strip away the fabric, you raise and shift your hips closer to the edge of the bed to offer assistance. Then the underwear has been rolled down your thighs and discarded on the floor, revealing you to him in full, Satoru marveling at the new sight and thumbing through the slit with the watering mouth of a starved animal.

He gets a little high off the smell of your cunt, your slick a narcotic on his tongue when he dips into it. He laves and smears until he’s covered in the sticky shine, lost in the service of another as it serves him in kind; placates him, fills the space where ache and self-importance used to encumber his chest. 

The attention he presses to your clit rivals the attention you’d given his battered soul, paying you back, accepting love by letting it flow in, circulate, and flow back out. Appreciation, reciprocation, acceptance. He writes it with a wet muscle on every crevice of your delicate flesh.

Those burdened baby blues from earlier have become glazed with lust and love, peering up at you with adoration and accented by perfectly flushed cheeks. Your thighs are the heated walls of a century-old church during a southern summer, and it’s his favorite season. He’ll gladly work up a sweat with his prayer, his offering, his worship; he loves the purpose. Cum on his tongue and show him that God is listening, won’t you?

He wants to forever wear your pleasure as a gloss on his lips, let it override the taste of sugarcane and artificial flavor, the remnants of tobacco and nicotine, the weight of sorrow and melancholy.

Gift him with your orgasm, let it heal his wounds. Cleanse him, baptize him, save him.

He savors every second of his slow devotion, as do you, head falling back and throat singing his praises with moans of favorable timbre. Satoru’s eyes roll into his skull when your fingers slip between silky white strands and tug, shooting pleasure-pain straight down to his aching cock. He figures you’re close because your heels dig into his back and you grind your pussy along his chin, so the devotee keeps offering your cunt strawberry kisses until you fall apart.

He drinks down every last drop of essence that falls upon his tongue as your thighs encase him, a coil of ecstasy releasing in your gut. Your orgasm is sweeter than any candy he’s ever tasted, stronger than any bad memory that’s ever dared to haunt him. He’s even forgotten what had him feeling so somber today in the first place.

Lost friends. Lost ways. Things that hurt but are soothed by your companionship. 

Satoru rises from his place of worship and seals the divine deal with a kiss, hardly taking the notion to breathe in between. Steadfast, you welcome him like you always do, making space in your heart and body for a man who didn’t think he required any love.

He is human too—living, breathing flesh that flourishes when provided with the proper nourishment. He may have a proclivity for convincing the world otherwise, but in his heart he knows it’s a deflection, an avoidance.

But he does not have to flee from pain, not anymore, because you will be there to strip it away from him. Not with candies and other pleasures of the flesh, but with the love and acceptance of a person who nobody ever thought needed it.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #my writing. #re: satoru gojo

[forthelostones]

♡ black female reader x ellie williams (part one) ♡

synopsis: ellie is your TA for your english lecture at university and she pulls you aside for revision.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); switch!reader x switch!ellie, teasing, fingering, female cunnilingus, degradation, small boob appreciation, and n!pple play.

an: hi everyone! this is my first idek what this is called when i was coming up "one shot".... (is that even a thing anymore?). i am super nervous about this! but please enjoy x.

wc: 2.2k

PART TWO

It was the last few months at university and you were getting entirely tired of your English lecture. Your professor talked slowly, and quietly, and pointed out the obvious connections within the simple texts. You felt as if you were far too advanced for this 300-level college course. You answered all the questions, understood what the “deep” metaphors were, and made A’s on every paper. The only thing that kept you interested was the TA who graded all those papers. Ellie Williams was a senior English major with a specialty in Print Media. You heard stories about her, glanced at her from a distance, and saw her around but you could never gain the courage to speak to her outside of class. 

She sat in the corner, near the lecture podium, with her auburn hair pulled back, and a pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked out onto the hall. She sat slouched with her legs spread open, one foot taping the ground slowly, and the occasional eye roll at a stupid question. 

As you sat listening to the room share their perspectives on a Shakespearean text, you took quick glances at her over the corner of your laptop. Today she was wearing a loose, red, long-sleeve shirt, exposing her forearms. Her right arm was adorned with faded black ink that traveled all the way up her shoulder. The warmth that traveled to your cheeks fell between your thighs, as your eyes focused on her fingers that were now swirling that same pencil in a rhythmic motion. 

“Have a great weekend.” Your professor nearly shouted startling you. 

Your chest caved-in and your eyes bugged outward, you felt a nick of embarrassment hoping no one saw your body jolt. You close your laptop and see Ellie crack a smirk as she walks over to you. 

What could she want, you think. 

“Sorry y/n, I couldn’t get around to emailing you last night, but Professor said I should help you with your upcoming essay.”

Her low voice echoed in the now empty hall. 

“Oh? Really? Sure. I thought my draft was pretty good but—”

“It’s not that you’re being singled out, I have to work with everyone on theirs.” She interjected.

That knot of embarrassment in your chest tightened as you saw no sincerity in her sage eyes. 

“It’s last minute but it won’t take long. We can go to the office and work on it a little or we can reschedule, up to you.” She shrugged.

You pause in an attempt to act like you’re thinking. It’s Friday night, you should have something to do, but you don’t. “Sure. Let’s do it.” 

You gather all your things and follow behind her into your professor's office, just across the hall. In front of you were the large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the crowded quad lawn. Students soaking up the sun and lying in the grass chatting with their friends. The other walls were covered in bookshelves with every academic book you could ever imagine. She sat her bag down and pulled out your pristine rough draft, which was now slightly crumbled. 

“Hm,” slipped out. 

“What?” She asked smugly. 

“It’s just my paper was kind of thrown into your bag like… shit.” 

“Oh, sorry.” She says attempting to smooth it out by placing it on her chest and using her palms. 

She sat next to you in the large armed chair, her knees practically touching yours through her black jeans. Electricity sparked as you came in slight contact with her body. Her hands adjusted to the corners of your paper, her fingers fiddling between each page, spreading them open and moving up and down. You noticed all the notes and corrections she made, the red pen she used scribbled out sentences, rewrote phrases, and small notes on the margins like ‘too wordy’.  

“Are you sure this is my paper?” You asked, snatching it from beneath her hands. 

“Read it. Y/N, How Shakespeare Altered The English Language.” She read. 

“You scribbled out my title too?”

Your hands became damp with nervous anger. You were top of your class, your professors adore your writing and now a TA just a year above tells you how you’re falling short. 

“It was boring.” She said plainly.

“Simple language is good. It’s easier for people like you to understand.” 

You face her and notice how defined her freckles are. How full her lips are and you unfurl your eyebrows as you realize how close you are to her face. 

She snorted. “People like me? You mean the person who grades your shitty papers every other week? Who can absolutely give you any grade I want, that person?” 

You stutter in an attempt to get words out, but you know she’s right. She could tank your grades if she wanted to. Her face turns upwards in a challenge. 

“So now my papers are shitty? They’re shitty now?” 

Your two bodies are now completely turned towards each other, knees touching, and eyes locked. The air becomes thick when she doesn’t reply. Adrenaline rushes to your head quickly, as someone who regularly avoids conflicts this feeling is overwhelming. 

“If you read the notes… maybe you would understand. Clearly you don’t have the capacity to even do that.” She smiled. 

She thought this was funny, seeing you flustered, in a hard spot where you couldn’t comprehend why you were being judged so harshly. 

“I want so see everyone else’s papers.” You asked. 

“What?” 

“I want to see how much editing you did to others.”  

You stand up and grab her bag and run your hands through it, before you could pull anything out, she jumps up and grasps your wrist with surprising strength. Your heart beats violently as her she pulls your hand away from the fabric of her bag. As she shoves you away, the junk falls out onto the floor. 

“Really?” She muttered and stuffed her items back inside. 

She gave you her signature eye roll and huffed as she ‘reorganized’ her stuff. As she stood up she walks towards you without saying a word. Her eye contact burnt you as they became low with anger. 

“Ellie.” You sigh. 

You feared that she’d use her strength against you.

“Y/N, there are no other papers,” She smirked. “For someone so smart you can be so dumb.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard her words. You peered over her shoulder, quickly observing the bright windows, afraid to be seen. 

Her fingertips wrap around your waist softly, pulling your closer to her hips. Your lips pursed tightly together as you fought to speak. 

“So you lied to get me alone?” You asked. 

“Can you keep up?” She tugged at you a little more. Naturally, your body resists her touch, but you became so wet at her criticism of your intelligence. 

“I can.” You reply sorely. 

Her hand slowly rises up your back, tracing your spine. 

“The thing is, you always leave class so fast. Rushing out. I never could catch you even if I tried.”  

Her fingers do a dance under your shirt and the coolness of them startles you. Then bring her palms down to your ass, which made you moan, surprising the both of you. 

“What can I say, I’m busy.” You lie. 

You spent your nights in your apartment reading and watching the same movies. Sometimes you’d think of Ellie and recall her face from class if she saw you laying in bed, practically naked. 

“Busy? I don’t know if I believe that.” She challenged with a grin. 

She unclipped your bra skillfully with one hand. You gasped at the release of tension, you pushed your pelvis against hers, you were so close you felt her chest rise and fall. 

“What’s not to believe? I’m top of my class, President of—“ 

“Don’t care,” She interrupted. 

Her lips came one inch from yours and all you could feel is her breath graze your lips. Her eyes jolt down to the valley of your cupids bow, which made her swipe her lips with her tongue.  

“I love your lips Y/N.” 

“Why don’t you taste them then?” 

She leaned closer but did not come in contact, her hands rubbed up towards your loosened bra and came in contact with your hard, brown nipples. She circled around them gently. 

“And give you the satisfaction after you insulted my intelligence?” She grimaced. 

You pushed her away and clipped your bra back and headed towards the desk to grab your things. She looked surprised as you gather yourself to head for the door. As you bent over the chair, she came behind you and thrust herself onto you. That tattooed hand slithered up your body, to your throat, and pulled you back into her body. 

“Do act so coy Y/N. The way you stare at me when I spread my legs open, when my fingers glide against papers, and when I show my arms you can’t help but stare.” 

Her hand travels to your pants, undos your button, and dips her fingers into your soaked panties. You gasp at the firmness of her calloused fingertips. You push your ass into her hips and feel her pelvis brush against you, she likes to feel you from this angle. 

“So?” You fought to say through moans. 

“So, fuck me Y/N. Why do you have to be so stuck up?” 

Her fingers traced your slit, plunging deeper into the slick she was responsible for. She pulled her hands out, dripping with your desire, and she raised them to your lips. She took her other hand and grabbed your jaw gently causing your mouth to open. She slipped her fingers in your mouth making you taste yourself. You wrapped your tongue around her thick fingers, unafraid of anyone who could see inside, you felt pure ecstasy of hearing her moans as you fulfilled her fantasy. 

You turned around to face her and finally kissed her. Her lips were soft with lust and her tongue slipped quickly into your mouth. She pushed your back into the desk, gripping your thighs to hoist you up on top, her strength shocked you. She wrapped her hands around your hips and pulled you deeper into her mouth. Your hands naturally fell around her waist and unbuckled her belt and desperately reached for her core. 

She pulled her shirt up to reveal her bare chest. You always noticed her perky nipples, wondering about her crude disposition against bras, you weren’t complaining though. She forced a nipple in your mouth and commanded you to suck. She grabs the back of your head and pulls you in more. They were the perfect size, smaller, but perfect to suck hands-free. She restrained her moans as your teeth wrapped around her flesh. You can tell she never could give up being in control, the stories confirm that. Always on top, always servicing others, so your image of her was different than the view here. 

“What if someone sees?” You ask nervously. 

“Windows are shaded from the outside.” She said as she used her arm to clean the desk. 

She pushed you back and began to lay warm kisses on your belly. You tuck your hands in her scalp when she gripped your wrist and slams it into the desk. You groan in pain but it excites you. 

Her fingers hook into the loops of your jeans and pulls them down. Her hand palms your warm panties and brushes upwards, you try not to show how much you need her, but she presses harder. 

“Say it.” She probes. 

“What? That I want you?” You ask. 

“Say it.” 

You don’t reply and she pulls your panties off aggressively and brings her lips to yours. She starts kissing your pussy so passionately you imagine you could cum from that. 

She lifts her head, “Watch me.” 

The tip of her tongue and dipped it into your crease, searching for your clit. Once she finds it, she takes her fingers and spreads you wide open. Her tongue enters inside of you and your back arches into her. Your body waves up and down from desperation, you know she posses more than she’s leading on. She gets a good rhythm going and feels you dripping down her chin, she stops. Leaving your body twitching from frustration. 

You stood up dripping, reaching for her. 

“Y/N, say you need me.” She commanded as she was reaching to slip her shirt back on. 

“I need you Ellie.” You break. 

You dropped to your knees tugging at the waistline of her jeans, pulling them down with her underwear. She was drenched too, so turned on from touching you. You dug your face into her wetness, your tongue meeting her delicious taste, sweet and warm, sliding down your throat. You bring your middle and ring finger to her entrance and she sighs out of pure passion. As you entered her, you felt her fingers gripping your shoulder, and her grunts tickled your brain. You arched your fingers inside of her and worked your tongue around her clit in circles. 

“Fuck.” She moaned. 

Her panting got deeper, faster, and her nails pinched into your skin. You sucked at her clit to bring her to a climax. As you pulled your fingers out her stickiness strung from her core and straight into your mouth. 

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #tlou2 ellie #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ta!ellie williams #x black fem reader #x black reader

[hwaightme]

Panacea

OUT NOW: Panacea

song used in teaser: de selby (part 1) by hozier

🌊pairing: poet!seonghwa x doctor!gn!reader 🌊genre: fluff, slice of life, slow burn, healing, strangers to lovers, comfort 🌊summary: what do a poet who lost his inspiration and a cosmetic surgeon who lost their empathy have in common? when you make an escape from the city to a memory-filled cottage on the edge of the world, you meet park seonghwa, a poet who, after growing fatigued of shallow critique and unwanted attention, is on a search for true beauty. you, a surgeon who cannot bear to hear nor assess another patient , abhor its twisted definitions. as the seasons change, storms abate and your paths entangle, you discover a new, unparalleled kind of beauty. 🌊wordcount: estimated around 30k 🌊warnings/tags: semi-edited, ??? attempts at sijo (forgive me), discussion of beauty standards, mention of surgery/clinics, weather imagery, dreams/nightmares, discussion of life and death (jokes relating to death), talk of side character death, urban/rural comparisons, isolation, burnout, philosophy, judgement of media, seaside, cliffs, dialogue + inner thoughts, perspective switching, falling in love, loving another's mind, talk of what is 'real' beauty, food, eating, cooking, implied anxiety, implied impulsive thoughts, sneak into home 🌊author's note: happy birthday, seonghwa. thank you for all you inspire me to do, and for teaching me how to find the sun even in a rainstorm. sincere and diligent, you are the spring, the renaissance, the glimmering light. wishing for you and for atiny alike to have a cherished panacea and a love brighter than the stars.

teaser (1.3k):

...Mid-spin, just as you were finished with making the filling and were in the process of lining a baking tin with some of the pastry, the front door creaked open, revealing the figure that you had spotted outside of your window, walking alongside the beginnings of what would be a cliff’s edge. You stood still, holding the pie tin, feeling the grooves of its edges, balancing the dough that was still wrapped in clingfilm right in the middle, as though if you were to not move this man would not see you. Heart quickening to a nauseating pace, the intense scrutiny that you were receiving made you want to collapse behind the counter. Before this moment, you had convinced yourself that you had fully adopted a devil may care attitude, and that you were ready for whoever you would encounter, having prepared the humble abode for a you-style reception and to assert who truly was deserving of ownership of this property. But something about this enigmatic persona who, just like you, remained unmoving, echoed the seastorms. A roaring of the waves was contained in his orbs, so dark due to the light being behind the man’s back that you could barely detect the transition from pupil to iris. A nose worthy of being depicted in renaissance paintings, in fact, if you had to pinpoint one way to describe the stranger, is that he reminded you of subjects that graced the walls of art galleries, selected by masters to be immortalised in the artists’ name. Nameless, much like he was to you in this present moment. His lips, ever so slightly parted as if he had been on the verge of saying something to you, only for the aim to fall short of execution, voice drowning in doubt or disgust. The corners of the man’s mouth were gently downturned - not unpleasantly so, but rather giving him an aura of intimidation that intrigued you. Shadows on his face suggested to you that he was unshaven, though, you had to admit that it was not too bad of a look. In fact, an interesting edge of ruggedness that balanced with his longer locks gave the man a new form of allure, and in turn, forced you to keep your eyes on him despite feeling inklings of terror. The scene reminded you of a faceoff between two territorial wolves - whose domain was this? Only time and a match of resolve would tell.

He was the first to break eye contact, sighing and moving to take off his shoes and trench coat. You remained still - a hostile animal that was expecting aggression at any moment. The man was silent, unphased by your ‘out of the blue’ appearance at least outwardly, and you were not certain whether his lack of reaction was something to be taken with gratitude or suspicion. As you inspected his motions, how he stretched out his arm to hang the trench coat on the rack that was hammered to the wall, with the right nail ever so slightly lower than the left, how he ran a hand through his hair, casting shadows over what hinted at months of fatigue. Not quite pallid, but definitely tired skin, holding times of discomfort, sleeplessness. Dark circles under those deep, pensive orbs, cheeks that were somewhere between sunken and youthful. The man stood before you in a white shirt, the colour a last cry to some form of purity and hope. You could guess why he was at the cottage, since it was not too challenging to see your own reflection in the corners of his soul, much like you could sense that he was reading you. He reminded you of an angel who was tired of praying, barely capable of carrying his body. Pressed down by the story that had been written for him, he was likely here for an escape, to drown out the sounds of whatever he was running from. Perhaps you should be friendly, and welcome this lost soul. After all, he could be unaware of where he is nor of what unspoken rules exist around here. The least you could do is make him feel at home-

“You made a mess,” and just like that, all desire to be amiable flew out of the window and into the sea. His curt comment was like a burning cold scalpel, words too familiar to be neutral and well-received. 

Before you could respond, the man was well on his way to the bathroom, and judging by the slam of the door, he was not very pleased to see the rearrangements you had made. No comments followed, however, and instead, the pause was filled by the sound of running water, followed by a muffled mumbling when following a couple of rattles, the pressure inevitably dropped and there was barely a trickle. You shook your head, amused by how this man had been living in this property without the basic knowhow. Clearly, he was one of the many cityfolk who wanted to try his luck while on holiday. Exotic stay to talk about with his glamorous friends, you bet. For him to explain how ‘the bucolic was not even as appealing as literature made it out to be’. Standard. Faceless. You would forget him in no time, especially since he would probably leave before it got less fun and more mundane to stay out in the wilderness. That pretty face should not know harshness. With a huff, you set the tin down onto the counter and set the oven to preheat. With swift, irritated movements, you took to lining the metal with the dough, and in no time shifted to ladling the filling inside, halting to watch the last of the fruity cinnamon remnants dribble from the bowl down to join the rest of the sweet and sour promise.

The man returned when you were in the process of lacing strings of dough together to structure a coherent design. With an embarrassing surgical precision, you focused on the patterns - culinary sutures, almost horrified by the technique that you could not prevent from channelling itself through your body, to your very fingertips especially now that there was an audience. If he wanted to give you a stern talking to, it had quickly dissipated and mid-stride, the stranger was observing you as though you were carrying out a sacred ritual. The spotlight was on you as you demonstrated how to put the flesh back together. Piecing the skin bit by bit so as to ensure minimal scarring, careful now, people come to you to make themselves feel beautiful after all. String by string, the pie was looking more like itself, a recipe book photograph, something worthy of immortalising as the model step before baking. A beeping confirmed that the patient was relaxed, steady, with a perfect heart rate - good, all the readings were steady, now all you needed was to make the final - you felt for the tray finding empty space. Did someone misplace the tools? Panic shot into your nervous system and with a jolt you pushed yourself away from the table, only to find yourself gazing, startled, at someone who you had begun to assume was an intern. The guest, or cohabitant? An eyebrow raised, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he took in your state. You clicked your tongue, finally putting two and two together and grabbing the timer behind you, purposefully taking your time so that you would not have to look at your newfound personification of madness for longer than necessary. So much for an introduction; the figure who was still a mystery to you slinked back into the shadows, with only the click of the office door serving as a confirmation that he was real. You rubbed your temples, the distant thrumming of a headache resembling a thunder that crawled over the horizon. Demonstratively, you sprinkled some flour onto a previously clean spot on the wooden countertop, only to automatically reach for the towel and drop the action again. No, it was time to bake. You needed to bake. You needed to make this place feel like home for the next couple of months, even if this peculiar character was going to be sharing it...

🌊 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

interested? send me an ask to be added to the perma-taglist or to a taglist for Panacea <3

#cromernet #hm/announcements #hm/panacea #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader

[insane-control-room]

Some things are meant to be remembered; for the right reasons.

i've posted this review on steam, but i think that i want to say it here, too.

Here is my review of the 'promotional' material (according to steam) Secrets of the Machine

What I liked: the art appeared to be a true return to form; the style had its original charm with updated lighting techniques and slightly better optimization than previous games in the Bendy series. The audio design was also nice, with good ambiance and nice composition.

And now, the jank.

The game handles reasonably well; but it is clearly slapdashed together and is missing important components. There is no starting menu. There are no loading screens; and it is very jarring. There are no options in the game menu - you cannot minimize the game, you cannot brighten the game, you cannot make the game run any better on your computer, and it is incredibly laggy. If you have a potato laptop? Nah, get out. No game for you. There are no subtitles that you can enable, and voices are very muffled. Additionally, the game is very dark, and as mentioned, you cannot adjust that in the settings of the game, nor in steam settings. You have to do so from your computer.

Controls are extremely janky, as you cannot run, you cannot jump, and there is no indication for interaction with any objects. There are no control settings for remapping, and you cannot even see which keys do what.

Puzzles are boring and confusing; with no guidance. There were no hints, no rhyme or reason. There was more puzzle in the BATIM chapter 1 demo release. This thing is very confusing, especially when you cannot see anything at all. You will spend a long time walking back and forth between two rooms, wondering how you can progress, because you've done everything you could: you smashed cutouts; you hit targets; you opened and closed hands; you found posters for future games, but nothing that could move forward the one you were playing at the time. If you look at the community page, you will see that most people simply spent their time clicking on the soup can dispenser to see how many cans they could get.

If you have epilepsy, nah get out. Oh? I didn't mention the flashing lights? Well the developers did not either. Not only did they not mention the flashing lights, not in the game nor in steam, but they included TWO car crashes without warning - one audio based, and another that was directed at players. This is not only rude, but it is dangerous. Warnings exist so that people can make educated choices whether or not to interact with content that may be sensitive to them. Warn people appropriately. This 'game' did not take any measure to protect its players. There are many instances of sudden loud noises, flashing lights, and jarring location switches (not to mention the car crashes).

The story was lacking, and has nothing to do with the puzzles that a player is faced with. It feels like three disjointed tracks, and none of them align, all of them crashing together in a discordant, unsatisfying, confusing mess. It brought in more new characters that had nothing to do with the original story nor interested players, and had content that went against previously established material. It was (as you can tell, from a writer's perspective) a bad story.

It was less of a demo, less of a playable trailer, more like a tech demo with a few morsels for fans to pick apart and wish there was more of, wish there was more effort put into, wish there was more love and care for them, the players who arguably were the foundation of this game. There were teasers for games that, honestly, lacked the soul that the very first game had, and here's a point to prove it: there was an easter egg that if you clicked something 414 times (very funny.) it would rise in the air and then fall down without further ado. In the game files, the name for that sound effect? Sting. Yeah. It did. Games are a collaborative work; between the creators and the players. Blatant disregard and flippancy towards half of the collaboration is not acceptable behavior. This is a development team that mocks those who once loved them most, those who poured over their coding and carefully crafted world to marvel at what they had made, and coaxed in others with the rich promise of a delightful story that anyone could engage with on any level. The spite the creators have shown for the individuals who, essentially, had given rise to their stature in the first place, is painful.

Finally, by the time that I got a chance to sit down and actually play the game- I personally could not. The developers, by constantly updating a clearly unfinished game, had made their final update - that of a wood board blocking the actual place where gameplay takes place. You cannot go to any of the places shown in the screenshots, because the game is locked on the opening area. I've seen many people complaining of it; hoping that they can play the game.

Now, in the fashion we've seen common of JDS, they have rescinded their terrible design choice - but without notifying players that it is now possible to play the game; without telling players that this was purposeful; without telling players anything aside from a big old screw you. It is entirely possible that the only reason they put the game back into a playable state was the torrent of negative reviews that spawned after their. interesting. choice. regardless, those who care about their playerbase would have informed those who complained that it was a temporary gesture for storytelling reasons. They, however, did not, and there are a multitude of reviews marking the game as unplayable.

No matter what, the bottom line is this: This is not okay.

I'm not sure how much more eloquently I can put the fact that I'm heartbroken. This game, unlike any other, shows how much scorn that a developer can have for their own fans and playerbase. I am glad that there are people who enjoyed it, but I wonder - what did you really like about it?

Is it the memories?

#control critique #secrets of the machine #bendy #batim #bendy secrets of the machine #bendy and the ink machine #bsotm #bsotm review #game review

[legacygirlingreen]

Becoming a Proper Gentleman // Sebastian Sallow x Reader // Invisible String pt I

Warnings: mild mentions of abuse/childhood trauma!

Summary:

What happens when she finally gets to meet Sebastian’s family? Why is Sebastian all of a sudden interested in being a proper gentleman? What trauma from his past keeps him attached to those unruly brown locks? When she is able to possibly spend the holidays with the Sallows, what price is Sebastian willing to pay?

Notes:

This diverts from Canon as an alternate look at Sebastian and you/your main character’s first meeting with his family. It focuses less on elements of the game, but briefly mentions them, and instead leads to just fluffy moments. Also note this fic deals more with proper Victorian style rules surrounding romance/courting/being proper. It’s all written in 3rd POV for the most part, switching back and forth from more of your perspective and his through 3rd perspective. VERY LITTLE USAGE OF Y/N

Word Count: 17,000 +

Masterlist for series here

If you can, I would like you to accompany me to Feldcroft when I visit home soon. I know I mentioned it briefly last week so it is somewhat short notice, but Ann is dying to meet you in person, and I’m really hoping it will lift her spirit. There’s so much I would love to share with you about where I grew up. If you decide to join me, meet me by the lookout tower near the Floo Flame in Feldcroft tomorrow after dawn. ~ S

She delicately played with the edges of the parchment delivered by the sleek black barn owl moments before. Over the past few months her and Sebastian’s pet owl had become more than acquainted. She had begun carrying around extra treats in her pocket daily in anticipation of a visit from his owl, Theodore, nicknamed Teddy for short. Given the frequency of their communication outside the classroom, she had grown fond of the bird, beginning to suspect he was also taking a liking to her as well judging by the way he had started nuzzling her hand when she moved to pet him.

Sebastian had mentioned a few days before possibly having her join him in Feldcroft when he went to visit Ann. The invitation to others may have seemed a tad forward, but the pair had grown close since the moment they met in the Slytherin common room by the fire. In fact, after talking Ann’s ear off on his first weekend home about the new student after the start of 5th year, she had wondered how long it would take to finally meet his new classmate. While the girl never pressed, knowing how ill Ann had fallen, she couldn’t say she too wasn’t excited at the prospect of meeting his sister. The only problem now was figuring out how to make the best first impression possible…

She often worried what would happen should his twin not take to her as much as he had. The twins were very close. It was no surprise that after months of cheeky quips, sneaking into the restricted section of the library, almost dying on several occasions and countless hours alone in the Undercroft together that she had begun to harbor feelings for the boy. She couldn’t help but admire the little details about him. From the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed with each word he spoke, to the mischievous glint in eyes. When he laughed, the sound would always below out from deep in the pits of his stomach, allowing the sweet melody to sing in the air. The way his mouth would shift ever so subtly to the right and a single eyebrow would raise at the mention of something lewd or interesting. The freckles that dotted his entire body, not just his face, in a pattern that was more beautiful than the constellations in the night sky she observed at the astronomy tables. How his eyes would appear as rich chocolate pools with seemingly no end in the darkness of the undercroft yet shift into a lovely amber shade in the sunlight.

Something that had become a favorite pastime of hers - a brief indulgence in the scary world she’d been thrown into of magic, goblins and poachers - was the way he constantly seemed to unconsciously fret over his hair. The lovely and increasingly overgrown strands of brown were in a forever state of disheveled atop his head. Every time he became annoyed, bored, embarrassed, elated or even upset his fingers seemed to take to his hair. Maybe it was a nervous tick or necessity due to his current lack of styling, she thoroughly enjoyed learning about all the ways in which he disrupted his locks.

The girl could remembered the first time she truly noticed how much he moved his tanned and freckled digits through his hair. One late night in the undercroft, growing increasingly frustrated with yet another book from the restricted section providing little insight, he gave up and slammed its cover and startlingly her. She looked up from her own notes taken from the keepers journal and watched as his eyes formed their own version of an apology for scaring her. For someone who could easily take down trolls and spiders she sure was jumpy.

He let out a frustrated sigh, letting his head fall into his hands. She noticed how his nimble fingers stretch around and met at the back of his neck, playing with the small waves beginning to touch his collar from the months he’d been at school without a haircut. Come to think of it, she’d never actually seen him attempt to maintain his hair at all in the brief time she had known him. And in the time since September the brown tendrils of hair had seemingly begun to grow out of control. As quickly as she had become mesmerized watching him slowly weave his fingers in and out of his hair to calm himself, Sebastian lifted his head, eyes meeting hers. A single brown strand of hair fell onto his brow instead of its normal pattern of being pushed to the side. He went to speak but before he could get a word out her arm lifted towards his eyeline, shutting the boy up quickly. His eyes grew as she ever so carefully brushed the strand up and off his forehead to join the rest of his unruly locks. She briefly allowed herself the indulgence of feeling the soft hair she’d been slowly noticing for weeks under her fingers.

As if finally breaking the trance the second her hand was removed from his hair, she instantly looked down to her lap, cheeks growing redder by the second. If she had looked up she’d have noticed his freckled face was even more crimson than her own. Eventually the pair would have to acknowledge the brief act of intimacy displayed by the resident troll slayer, and while Sebastian tended to be the easier flirt of the pair, she found herself accepting she needed to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me” she muttered finally meeting his eyes.

He stared at her for a few seconds longer before chuckling. “No need to apologize, I guess I’m growing into more of a lacewing fly bush by the day.” He then grabbed a different lock of hair from around his left ear and pulled it away from his head, allowing the both of them to note how long his hair had become.

They both laughed at his comment and before she could respond he continued saying “usually Ann helps me trim it, but lately she hasn’t even been able to do her own, let alone mine”. A solemn look briefly flashed over his face, quickly replaced by a half smile.

“You know, last time I was home Ann playful made fun of how much I spoke of our newfound friendship. She did say she would love to meet you sometime if you would be interested”.

She pondered the weight of his words. He told his sister about me… somewhere between giving an answer and being lost in thoughts of Sebastian telling his sister about her, she felt her braid being lifted by the ends. Looking down she noticed Sebastian carefully running his fingers, the same ones constantly buried in his own brown tresses, toying with hers. If she was having difficulty speaking before, she was completely mute now. All she could do was close her eyes, feeling careful digits twirling the free strands at the end of the tie secured around her hair.

Sebastian careful laid the braid back along her shoulders and removed his hand from her hair, noticing how she sat there, more peaceful than he’d seen her in a while. Eyebrows relaxed, eyes closed, light smile on the corner of her lips and a slight blush dusted atop her cheeks. For the first time since he’d known her he wondered if maybe she returned the same affection he was slowly allowing himself to grow towards her.

“You don’t have to answer now. But I will send an owl when I decide to return home if you wish to join” he told her. She finally opened her eyes and looked back into his brown orbs. She simply nodded before the pair returned to attempting to find a cure for Ann.

That was almost a week ago and since then she had awaited this owl. However now holding it, that nervous feeling in y/n’s stomach grew. Her first thought was to go find Sebastian, however she quickly realized asking the boy you liked how to impress his family seemed a tad revealing. Opting for the next best thing, she wandered back to the Slytherin common room to find their mutually shared and informed companion.

“Ah y/n, Sebastian was looking for you earlier today before I told him it better to send you an owl” Ominis said before she got close to the boy. Damn his bat like hearing for always being able to recognize her shuffling feet before she got close.

“Yeah, Teddy found me not long ago. I actually came to ask you about that…” she found it difficult how to phrase her question to him. Confused Ominis tilted his head to the side and shifted on the couch he sat on, allowing her to join him. He thought that the new 5th year would be jumping at the chance to meet Ann, as his suspicions told him that the new girl liked his friend as much as his friend liked her. He raised a brow seemingly to ask what she needed. “Well you see I am really happy about finally getting to meet Sebastian’s sister, seeing as you both have become my friends, however I am wondering how I can best make an impression on her. I know Sebastian said their uncle can be quite brash and Ann is unwell, so I was seeing if you had any advice I could use when meeting them. I do not want them to think poorly of me…”

Ominis didn’t need to have vision to see the fear her face held. While they had initially gotten off on weird footing after Sebastian quickly shared his family’s secret place with her, Ominis changed his mind about the new student. She truly did seem kind towards every one of his classmates and definitely had stronger magical talent than most people in his year.

“Well… I’ve known Ann as long as I’ve known Sebastian. While I won’t be able to help you much with their Uncle, he rivals even some of the worst of my family at times, Ann truly is a playful spirit. Her and Sebastian are very alike, or we’re at least before she was cursed.” Ominis paused, remembering with fondness how his friend used to be verses the sickly girl he had come to know over their summer holiday.

“She has really taken to doing things with her hands since falling ill. She spends a lot of time now reading and drawing. She recently mentioned wanting to take up knitting perhaps as a way to pass the time.” Ominis recalled his goodbye with Ann where she mentioned slowly turning into a at home knitting grandmother. The comment stuck out in his brain.

“Ominis you’re a genius.” She responded finally sounding more relieved than when she first approached him.

“Of course, if you don’t mind, I would love to go into Hogsmeade and collect some stuff to send to her. You can be my owl as repayment for my genius” he said with a chuckle. She nodded lifting off the couch and offering out an arm for the boy the take. While he was able to traverse the school grounds with a wand, it was always easier when he had a guide. At first he mildly protested her arm, he now simply allowed it to slip into his own. The pair made off towards the floo flame and to the streets of Hogsmeade.

—————————————

After a successful trip to Hogsmeade where Ominis purchased a small amount of treats from Honeydukes for Ann, and she had found some beginner knitting needles and yarn, the pair returned back to the castle for a good nights rest. She woke up incredibly early that morning, choosing her favorite outfit from Gladrag’s. Her nerves had kept her up all night as she laid in bed continuously rereading over Sebastian’s Owl.

There’s so much I would love to share with you about where I grew up…

She pondered what exactly that had meant. She brushed it off, deciding it better to get as presentable as possible. After getting dressed in her best “I want to look good but not like I tried too hard” attire, she picked up her hairbrush, brushing out her y/h/c locks. She almost always kept it braided, however yesterday while walking through hogsmeade she was flagged down by Madam Snelling. The overtly honest woman, who took no time in reminding the girl she still was owed a favor for running an errand to collect supplies a few weeks back. After reminding her she could use the favor then, she mentioned she would simply cash it in another time as she had a quickly approaching curfew and a blind companion she was sure wouldn’t want to sit through a hair appointment. The woman did recommend she sometimes remove her y/h/c from the braids they were always in, as it would look “soft and delicate like a flower”.

Deciding maybe the stylist knew what she was speaking about, she opted for the first time since coming to hogwarts to leave her hair down. Shaking off her nerves, and collecting the gifts from Ominis and herself, she slowly crept towards the Slytherin common room. As she was about to make it down the last steps of the girls dorms she ran into one smirking Imelda Reyes, back from an early morning flying no doubt.

Her and the girl had gotten off on somewhat rocky footing, however after both discovered the love of broom flying and sharing close proximity as roommates, they had begun an unlikely friendship. Still, the Irish girl and her taunted each other relentlessly. Imelda let out a brief whistle at y/n’s leather trousers and tight blue velvet overcoat that left little to the imagination. “First Sallow comes out of the boys dorm having actually brushed that bush on his head for once and now you’re standing here with your hair down and wearing an outfit that says ‘please take me now’. Sometimes tells me that those might not be unrelated hmm?”

Her cheeks flush at Imelda’s comment. For someone who’s fallen off many brooms over the years she still is sharp as a tack. “So what if they are related?” She quips back at her fellow student who couldn’t be more accurate in her assessment. “Oh I am all for it trust me. Between your often… unique attire and messy braids and that boys unruly hair, which in my opinion should’ve been cut long ago, you two make quite the pair. Not to mention this pining between the both of you has got to stop. Even Grace “Smelly” Smedley has noticed and she’s not the brightest young witch of our year if you know what I mean”.

She blushed at her roommate’s understanding of the situation. She might have a point… before the girl could reply however, Imelda laughed and nodded off towards the Floo Flame. “You may wanna hurry, don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting do you?” Before heading down the hall towards the girls bathroom. She stood there flabbergasted before carefully treading up the stairs to the green flame. She stared into it’s bright color for a few months before taking a deep breath and tossing floo powder onto its center. Quickly the cold stones of the slytherin common room were replaced with the soft ground of Feldcroft. While she had flown over the quaint village recently on her broom, she hadn’t actually stopped to see what it looked like up close.

Rich colors spread in every direction. The sun hanging just barely over the horizon brought such a lovely golden hue to the earth. A slight breeze moved through the trees and she regretted not bringing a coat with her. Too late now she thought. Scanning around her she noticed several small stone cottages and some merchants carts. In the center of everything was a well. To the left of the flame stood a wooden lookout platform.

Now or never.

She pushed herself towards the small wooden structure. As she neared the bottom of the steps and brushed her pants with her sweat slicked palms. She then ran her hand over her y/h/c hair, brushing down what little bit had become ruffled by the flame and the breeze. When y/n finally rounded the last flight of stairs she saw Sebastian leaning over the railing looking out to the hillside, where a castle ruin sat, his back to her. He must have been lost in thought because he slightly jumped when she questioned “enjoying the view”.

Her voice came out in a slightly strangled with her nerves but as she spoke it slowly calmed down. She chuckled at his reaction. She crossed the platform to stand next to him as he turned around to face her. As his eyes finally landed on her they grew to the size of saucers. For once she actually noticed, a small surge of confidence flooding her veins.

Sebastian couldn’t decide what surprised him the most about her appearance. Her usually mismatched and unique wardrobe was toned down, but in the most elegant (and not leaving much to the imagination) way. The way the leather trousers sculpted her thighs would have him up at night for weeks to come. It wasn’t long before his eyes landed back on her face, and subsequently her hair. Where he had been expecting one of her many variety of braids, her locks splayed out freely along her shoulders. He almost choked at the sight of her standing in his village looking so beautiful in the morning light.

To be fair however, she was in a similar boat. Standing close to him she looked into his wide eyes, noticing their usual brown was replaced by the warm Amber she loved in the golden hour. His usual school uniform replaced with a simple white collared shirt and plain dark green vest left unbuttoned. Sebastian’s usual short trousers and high socks combo was replaced with a full length brown pant but his usual boots remained. She noticed he must have gotten warm, as the sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. Now standing here she saw what her roommate mentioned moments before about his attempt at tackling his unruly brown hair. While little was actually accomplished, she appreciated the effort of putting a tad bit of the gel - which she assumed he borrowed from Ominis - in his hair to keep it from it’s usual tousled state. She did however think I prefer his hair a tad more messy.

The awkward teens moment of gawking at each other finally drawing to a close as Sebastian muttered out a flirty “enjoying the view more now that you’re here”.

She playfully pushed him with an eye roll, however still felt the familiar warmth adorn her cheeks. “I’ve never been to Feldcroft, it’s quite lovely” she mentioned looking him instead of at the countryside.

He coughed realizing she may have been referring to him looking nice and not his quaint village before holding out an arm. Before he left the dorm that morning Ominis had given him the “be a proper gentleman for once” conversation before tossing Sebastian his hair gel and rolling back over to sleep in on his Saturday morning. She looked at the arm for a second before realizing he was offering his arm to be proper. The blush on her cheeks continued to deepen as she tucked her hand into his elbow. Once her hand found solace in the bend of his elbow, he rested his free hand atop of hers. Since when did Sebastian Sallow become a gentleman?

Standing this close she was able to note that the typical smell of old parchment and whatever soap he always smelled of was mixed with something new, something earthy. Sandalwood perhaps? She decided that she had blushed enough this morning and it would be his turn again when she found herself saying “you know Imelda said you actually put a comb through that hair of yours, but she didn’t mention you bathed for once”.

The girl knew Sebastian would recognize the joke was in reference to whatever fragrance he had dawned, as Ominis was quite vocal about how much time Sebastian spent in their dorm shower “preening and doing merlin knows what else in there”. She wasn’t expecting the awkward chuckle that followed, along with his other hand reaching up behind his neck to mess with the stray curls at his neckline.

“I see you also ran into Imelda on the way over. She give you the same shakedown I presume?” He asked her, curious if her roommate had been worse on her than Imelda had been on him. Realizing he had been tousling his hair he quickly removed the hand from his neck. He laid his free hand back on top of hers.

“Oh of course you know how she is. I got accused of wearing a ‘please take me now’ outfit, whatever that means” she said with a chuckle, her free hand brushing over the velvet vest right above where it flared out at her waist. The boy felt his hand betray him, as it ever so slightly squeezed hers and he replied “I think I know what she meant” in a lower tone than normal.

Her feet, finally having made it back on solid ground below the tower, halted and the pair stopped. Her heart in her stomach she took note of his suggestive comment made in a nervous tone. Her senses being overloaded by his warm arm wrapped around hers and hand holding her steady. The smell of what could only be cologne or aftershave becoming overpowering. After a beat of silence, she said “are you wearing cologne?”

“Yes. Ann got it for me a while back and I usually forget about it, but remembered it this morning” he said trying to sound casual but his tone giving away it was anything but. What she didn’t know was he did not receive it from Ann, and had purchased it in hogsmeade the day before trying to impress you.

“I like it” she said barely above a whisper. “I’m glad…” Sebastian responded before looking down at the girl with longing. His hand slowly reached for her loose waves and twisted a single strand around his finger. “Your hair looks pretty when it’s down” he found enough courage to say. All the words forming in her throat stalled. Sensing she was struggling to find the words he started walking again towards his home. “You know Ann may be a little disappointed though. I told her about how you always have these elaborate braids, since she’s never been able to properly learn despite years of trying.”

She reached up subconsciously and grabbed at a loose strand. Stupid Madam Snelling. Sebastian must have sensed her worry because he responded saying “oh don’t worry, she’s going to love you. Besides if mildly disappointing my sister means I get to see your hair wild and free so be it”. He smiled at her, hoping to calm what he could sense were growing nerves. She can fight poachers and rescue a dragon with Poppy but she seems terrified of upsetting my sister. The thought made his heart swell.

As he carefully guided her through the soft grass of Feldcroft he quickly found himself near the place he had called home for many years now. His uncle Solomon stood outside tending to their few animals and garden. He figured he may as well get the difficult part out of the way so they wouldn’t be interrupted with Ann. Sebastian did not see eye to eye much these days with his uncle. They had always had a somewhat tumultuous relationship since his parents had died. As he grew, he knew his uncle saw more of Sebastian’s father in him, their own relationship having been somewhat strained. However, wanting to make sure that a proper introduction could be made between his family and the new 5th year whom he had slowly started seeing a future with was more important than the many disagreements he’d had with Solomon over the past few years. Sebastian had send Teddy to feldcroft before sending the owl to her the day before. He’d asked Solomon if it was okay to bring the new student with whom he had been spending much of his free time with home to meet his sister and gain a proper introduction to the Sallow household. And while Solomon wished his Nephew got in less trouble, would give up this futile attempt at helping Ann, and better maintain his appearance as a sensible young man, he did understand and respect Sebastian’s maturity in the matter.

He sent the family owl back with a brief message accepting Sebastian’s proposal on the conditions he kept the time short as to not impede Ann’s rest, as well as handle it like a proper gentleman in regards to the young lady. However, Solomon could not deny he was curious about the girl who seemed to have caught his nephews affection enough to do something properly and for once in his life.

Her heart rapidly picked up the pace as she rounded the side of the small family cottage on the arm of her fellow Slytherin. He lifted the latch on the small wooden fence, allowing for them to both pass through. She noticed what had to be his uncle had his back to them. Sebastian cleared his throat awkwardly saying “Uncle Solomon” as his guardian turned to face them. Nothing could really have prepared Mr. Sallow for the sight he saw. His nephew, who usually looked every ounce of disheveled and cocky was standing there attempting to look proper for possibly the first time in his young life. Solomon recognized the same look of nervousness his younger brother had come home sporting the day he introduced the twin’s mother to their parents. Turning his attention towards the young girl, whom he had learned bits and pieces of from both children in his care and his former colleagues at the ministry, was standing next to his nephew, her delicate hand wrapped around Sebastian’s arm. He remembered to mind his manors. Solomon thought to himself impressed at the boys ability to follow instruction on this rare occasion.

The girl stood almost a head shorter than his nephew, with the top of her head coming to just barely below Sebastian’s chin. She was quite small, yet from what he had heard through the grapevine she took down a troll in Hogsmeade the day his nephew had accompanied her to replace her supplies. Not to mention the dragon attack her and one of the schools professors endured on their way to Hogsmeade. He knew she must hold some strength at the very least to have encouraged this radical change in behavior in his nephew.

Sebastian carefully helped her navigate their family garden and over towards his uncle, who was whipping his hands on a rag he kept on him while outside. “Uncle Solomon, I would like you to meet y/n. She is the new 5th year at Hogwarts” Sebastian said trying to keep his voice from shaking. He didn’t know why this felt so scary. It was just his uncle, whom he at most times despised. Still he stood in front of his guardian nervous as he unwrapped the girl’s hand from his arm to place his hand on her lower back. He gave his uncle pleading eyes as if to say please don’t embarrass me I really enjoy the company of this girl.

“Hello Mr. Sallow. It’s nice to meet you.” She said summoning the same strength she used to fight trolls and offered her hand to shake. Solomon simply looked at the pair before properly shaking the girls hand. He barked out a laugh and responded “please, called me Solomon. it’s wonderful to finally meet the young lady who slowly is turning my immature nephew into gentleman.”

Sebastian slowly started to zone the two of them out as she expressed awkward pleasantries with his uncle. Sebastian imagined what it would be like had his parents not died when he was so young. Back in their old flat in London, bringing her into his childhood living room while his parents would no doubly be enamored with her.

He could almost clearly see the vision in his head: they would stand on the stairs outside his parents home, awaiting his fathers answer. His father, whom he would look almost directly eye to eye with now, and slightly grey hair would smile and step aside as he would lead her through the threshold. Maybe she would bring flowers for his mother’s table. The second his mothers eyes would land on her she would instantly dote on her elaborate braids as his mother also struggled with the styles on her slightly greying brown hair.

They would laugh in the parlor as his parents would listen to her stories of growing up in a muggle village and share their recent discoveries in academia with the pair. At dinner he would help move the chair for her to sit and after he would lift a hand for her to rise gracefully. After dinner his parents would have their enchanted instruments play the music that always seemed to play in the evenings in the flat and he would join his parents as they often danced with her in his arms. She would accompany him to his childhood room full of trinkets and art on the walls listening to him explain how all the treasures came into his possession. His parents would end the evening by telling y/n she was welcome any time and his father would pull him aside and lay a hand on his shoulder saying he had “chosen well”.

Deep in thought he almost didn’t hear his uncle call out for him “Sebastian?”

The daydream broken his face turned towards the young woman next to him. She looked on him with a small amount of worry and eyes that seemed to say are you okay? His own gave back a look almost to reply yes I’m okay.

“Yes sir?” He found himself responding to his uncle.

“I still have work to do out here but you should accompany Miss y/l/n here inside. Ann’s been talking about meeting her all morning and was up late trying to clean the place and bake some treats for tea time. Best not to keep her waiting boy”. Sebastian shouldn’t have been surprised his Uncle would still manage to maintain his unimpressed tone that the young Sallow had grown to know quite well.

He found himself nodding at his uncle. She simply waved goodbye before allowing Sebastian to lead her through the yard around to the front door. When they approached she audibly sucked in a deep breath. He rubbed up and down her back reassuringly as he lowered his mouth to be right next to her ear. “She’s going to love you trust me.” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he quietly whispered the words to her. She nervously nodded and he pulled back.

Despite the quite sad thought he found himself dwelling in moments before in the garden, he was still extremely elated to be standing on the stoop of his now home, hand resting on the back of the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on, who was nervous about meeting his sister. He was still trying to calm her nerves before heading in when he took her hand gingerly in his own saying “trust me, twin telepathy thing ya know? Besides what’s not to love…”

She flushed the deepest red possibly of her young life at his words. He hadn’t even realized the gravity of what he said trying to reassure until he looked down into her y/e/c eyes. She was looking up at him like he had hung the moon and the stars all by himself. Her eyebrow quirked and she lifted her hand up and brushed the stray lock of hair that had fallen out of place despite the gel back where it had been previously resting. His heart hammered at the second time now she had repeated this action with him.

The first being the moment he knew he never wanted another person sweeping his loose hair off his brow.

They had been standing on the stoop too long and were interrupted by the door opening and a squeal ringing out through the air. Anne. He had completely forgot why he told himself he was there. “Sebastian!” His twin loudly exclaimed and he took his arm from around the girl to hold out to his dear sister. Her thin frame pressed into his broad chest and he held her close. Their moment cut short as Anne interrupted his attempt to introduce the girl next to him. Anne always had been a bit forward.

“You must be y/n! Sebastian has told me so much about you. Honestly since the start of the year he quite literally never stops talking about you” Anne gushed at his companion as she pulled them inside the small home and ushered them towards the table. There sat all kinds of treats and the normal tea kettle. While he was somewhat embarrassed at Anne’s insistence on him being borderline obsessed with the new girl, she didn’t seem to notice.

The two immediately begun speaking as if they were old friends merely catching up. It wasn’t long before Anne asked her how she met Sebastian and how she was adjusting to hogwarts as a 5th year. Both girls were talking so fast he could barely make out much of what they were saying- although that may have had less to do with the speed of their conversation and more of how beautiful she looked sitting in their kitchen.

“… honestly without Sebastian I feel I may have been quite lost a lot of the time. He’s helped me both on the magical and the mischief path” she spoke with a laugh and he couldn’t express how much the thought made him smile. She would be lost without me.

“Oh Anne, before I forget, Ominis wanted me to pass along his regards along with some of your favorites from Honeydukes” she said reaching into the enchanted satchel she always kept on her and placing the treats from their mutual friend on the table.

“When did you have time to go to hogsmeade?” Sebastian asked, finally joining in on the conversation. He was genuinely curious given he was also there the day before.

“Oh ominis asked me to accompany him yesterday to collect this for you and help me pick out something as well” she said avoiding his gaze. For a brief second Sebastian’s heart sunk at the thought of her and Ominis walking around Hogsmeade together and alone yet that thought quickly faded as he realized why his friends had gone without him to the small village.

His heart practically grew 10 times its normal size as she produced a small basket with yarn and knitting needles, along with a small book explaining the basics of the craft. The girl turned to Anne and explained “I spoke with Ominis and he said you’d taken to doing things with your hands and mentioned you wanted to try your hand at knitting. I figured since we were in the area I could grab something for you.”

Sebastian knew that as kind hearted as the girl was, she hadn’t merely gotten the idea while strolling the small village, and that it had to have been her idea to go in the first place. If he could’ve conjured a ring out of thin air he would’ve. Sebastian thought back to when his father explained that he had known that Sebastian’s mother was the one he wanted as his wife from their first interaction. This now made so much more sense in the young boys mind.

Ann immediately jumped to her feet, tossing her thin arms around y/n muttering many “thank you’s” at the girl before returning to her chair. She brought one of the teal colored yarns up and turned to Sebastian and asked “this color is lovely, it really brings out y/n’s eyes doesn’t it?”

He simply nodded as the girls started to flip through the book discussing how one would go about knitting a scarf. His two favorite girls. Without thinking he reached under the table, grabbing her hand from where it rested on her lap, bringing it over to rest on her knee. She briefly looked at him and smiled, allowing him to wrap his fingers around her own before squeezing his hand. He returned the gesture as if to say told you she would love you.

It wasn’t long before their uncle came inside the small house. Immediately upon entering Anne stood from her chair and quickly showed Solomon the gift brought to her by the new student. The older man, while slightly surprised, nodded and made a mental note to comment on it to his nephew later. In the months since Anne fell ill, he had yet to see her so full of excitement and life. He couldn’t be more grateful for his nephew bringing this strange girl into their home.

“I don’t mean to cut this short, however this has been a lot of excitement for Anne in one day, and she probably should rest.” He cut in after another half hour of listening to the young girls chatter about everything from hogwarts to the London fashions.

She nodded knowingly and Anne was quick to hug her before even attempted to reach for Sebastian. “Please visit again soon. This has been the most wonderful of times” Anne said pleading. She smiled at her warmly and said “of course, I will visit when I can. In the meantime I promise to owl”

“Wonderful!” Ann then whispered something to the girl, making her blush as she stepped back to allow Sebastian to say goodbye to his twin.

Anne folded herself once again into his arms. “Is this new cologne Sebastian?” She said out loud. He could’ve died in that moment, knowing the girl most certainly would’ve caught him in the lie he told her earlier. He only nodded against the top of Ann’s head before leaning back and saying “See you later goober”. Anne quickly smacked him with the book on the table before reaching over to her bed and handing in the small box he had asked her to prepare before he came.

Solomon offered to walk the pair out, as he held the door for her. Sebastian stuffed the small box under his arm and followed behind the girl and his uncle. Once outside his uncle shook her hand one more time saying “you’re welcome back any time y/n. Thank you for attempting to make a man out of my nephew. Although if you could get him to fix that mop on his head before Christmas so I don’t have to take shears to it myself I would be grateful”.

She simply smiled and awkwardly nodded, noticing the mild edge in Solomon’s voice lending more towards an actual command not a joke. It made her uneasy seeing Sebastian’s face at the comment.

Solomon turned towards Sebastian and nodded before heading back inside. Finally being away from his uncle, he let out a sigh of relief and returned his attention to the beautiful slytherin girl next to him. Without thinking he laced his fingers in hers and they walked towards the floo flame together.

Before they reached it she asked him “so what shall we do with the rest of our Saturday. It will be a while before the great hall is serving dinner?”

“I was thinking we could spend some time in the undercroft. I asked Anne to grab some of our keepsakes so I could show you since I knew Solomon would rush us off”. He responded. He was still a little angry about his uncle ordering around a girl he just met, a girl who had been nothing but sweet, on Sebastian’s behalf. However he refused to let Solomon ruin this otherwise perfect day.

“That sounds wonderful, let’s go” she said pulling him into the bright green flame into the halls of the defense against the dark arts tower of Hogwarts.

___________________________

“Wait Sebastian you were so adorable!” She exclaimed looking at the photo of him on his mothers lap when he was around 5 years old.

“Were?” He asked feigning being upset by placing his hands on his chest.

“I mean you still are, however look at this. You looked adorable. Look at your little ponytail” she says waving the photo around still amused how precious his former self looked.

He pawed the hair on his neck, trying to remember what it had felt like to have his hair that long. She noticed him looking down in his lap with the saddest of expressions while pulling on his hair so she shifted closer, putting the photo back in the box and pushing it aside. She was slightly unsure how to proceed however she had an idea. So lifted her hands to his hair and slowly brushed her fingers through the slightly wavy brown locks. The second her fingers made contact his hand stilled and he looked at her. For a brief moment she was terrified she misread his emotions and had annoyed the boy. His wild expression unreadable, however he made no attempts to stop her. So she continued her slow motion, helping to separate the gel so it returned to its more wild and natural state.

“While I appreciate the attempt at grooming I prefer you a bit more, we’ll say, ruggedly handsome” she mentioned as an explanation for her actions.

He immediately calmed feeling her deft fingers along his scalp. Thinking of how his mothers hands used to brush through his hair, separating the knots and tying the band to keep it contained while he played. His mother always loved his hair when he was younger and took much time to attend to it. While it may not have been his fathers favorite look for the young boy, his love for his wife overshadowed all else. Sebastian, even as a young boy, felt that those moments where his mother lovingly adjusted, groomed or simply played with his hair to be some of the most loving actions he had ever felt. While Anne had grown into a similar role at times with both their lack of a mother, she never really intended the action the same way. He loved his twin more than anything, but she saw attempts to help her brother groom as a necessity, almost a chore, not an outlet to show love and affection as their mum had.

Sitting in there undercroft now Sebastian couldn’t help but let out a single quiet tear at how much this moment meant to him. It rolled down his freckled cheek so quickly most people would have missed it. She noticed it almost immediately, reaching a thumb over to brush it from his cheek before continuing without a word. It’s his story to tell or keep she reminded herself.

After a while a he peaked open his brown eyes, looking directly into hers. His eyes had remained glassy despite not shedding anymore actual tears. The knot in his throat remained. She smiled briefly at him as she slowly started to pull her hands away. He reached his hand up to stop her from removing her fingers. Pushing them back up into his hair she chucked as he acted almost childish in his wish to be doted on. While she didn’t want to admit that the position had become slightly uncomfortable she was beginning to struggle to keep her arms up as the boy was taller than her even while sitting. She slowly eased his slumping shoulder down so that he laid on the floor of the undercroft atop the blanket they conjured. Laying with his shoulders and head across her lap he sighed as she continued.

Hours, minutes, days, he had no clue how long he laid there allowing her to give him the simplest but most meaningful affection he had experienced in years possible ever. Every so often he’d crack open his eyes to see her smiling down at him. She’d brush the back of a hand over his forehead or freckle filled cheeks before returning to his brown hair. The action slowly made the lump in his throat dissipate and this almost sad expression was replaced with a slight smile as he thought she must truly care for me, to show such affections.

“My mum used to always do this when I couldn’t sleep” he said, voice horse from the lack of use and swelling emotion he was feeling. He opened his eyes to gage her reaction. She simply nodded continuing while allowing him to say what he wished. He appreciated her understanding that this kind of a story, should be left completely on him to share.

“She really did love my longer hair you know. Dad always put the foot down when it got too much past my shoulders but mum loved it.” He paused gathering his thoughts. Unsure if this story was even worth sharing with the girl. He was sure she probably didn’t need to know such trivial things about him, however after watching today as she fully committed herself to gaining respect in what remained of his family, as well as showing him the extent of her care towards him, Sebastian didn’t doubt for a second he should share everything there was to know about him. He truly had nothing to lose yet everything in the world to gain from having such a wonderful girl at his side. As silly as it may sound he wanted someone other than Anne to know the reason he had strong aversions to getting his cut or why he thoroughly enjoyed this moment now.

“When they died, and uncle Solomon came to collect us I figured it would be the last thing on anyone’s mind. You would think he wouldn’t want to further upset a kid who just lost his parents ya know? But the second we crossed that threshold at feldcroft he marched me to that kitchen chair muttering how boys should always look proper, keeping their hair off the ears and collar, before giving me a hack job that rivaled Duncan Hobhouse. I remember Anne watching terrified from the side of the room but unable to do anything. To a young kid having something so wrapped in your identity stripped, especially given how much my mother loved showing her care to me that way…” he trailed off not knowing how to continue the thought without breaking down. He decided to shift away as he was sure she understood the train of thought and would prefer to keep what little dignity he may have as a young man in front of the girl.

“Every so often in the years after same story. Aggressive shearing at the kitchen table and then forcing me to clean it up. Eventually Anne learned how to cut just enough to keep it with in his rules so he would stop. Ever since Anne was cursed it’s been the last thing in everyone’s mind, until today. I still have no idea why he would even tell you that is your responsibility “ Sebastian let out an annoyed sigh as he played with the buttons on his vest.

Her hand had stilled in his hair and he knew their calm moment may have ended. She still kept her fingers on his scalp as she responded “oh Sebastian… that’s horrible. I am terribly sorry”. Her voice was full of empathy. He looked up at her and swallowed unsure how they were to proceed now that so much had been revealed in the dim light of the undercroft.

“You have nothing to apologize for Love…” his words dropped off for a moment and he moved his hand to grab one of hers before holding it tightly in both of his. “You truly have showed me more care than anyone has since our parents died” he continued while examining every crevice of her beautiful hands. Sure she had some scattered scars on her knuckles and callouses from her wand scattered, but he decided then and there that these were the most beautiful hands he had ever seen.

He wanted to show her even half an ounce the love she had shared for him, but was unsure how to be proper about it. Given their close proximity little remained in terms of getting closer. He did not feel as though he had crossed a line she was uncomfortable with. He slowly brought her palm close to his mouth.

She felt her breath falter the second his lips made contact with her palm. He didn’t rush it either, slowly allowing himself to place a kiss on her palm, before moving just above where he placed the first to place another. Slowly he placed delicate, butterfly like kisses over every inch of her hand and fingers. Somewhere along the way he started muttering out “thank you” after “thank you” against her skin. She sudden felt lightheaded.

Sebastian wasn’t sure when he planned on stopping. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted a moment to pass for the rest of his life where he didn’t have some sort of contact on her soft skin. He prayed to Merlin she hadn’t noticed how he lingered too long when he kissed her ring finger. His eyes opening for a brief moment to imagine what a simple band would look like adorning her lovely hand. The thought almost scared him and yet exhilarated him at the same time. Of course this wonderful woman should one day carry his hand, his ring, his name, his children…

After a while he stopped and thread his fingers in hers. Same as he had at this kitchen table, it still felt like a perfect fit. They laid in the silence together, listening to each other breathe.

She decided that while she did enjoy getting a deeper spot in his heart and mind, they had a lifetime for serious moments. “So Anne gave you the cologne?” She mischievously mentioned with a sarcastic tone. He had completely forgot Anne ousted his lie.

Sebastian felt warmth flash over ever inch of his body. He finally leaned up from his resting spot on her lap and shyly rubbed his neck. “I may have lied…” was the only response he could come up with.

She laughed plucking the courage to grab his hand voluntarily. He slightly smiled at her comfort in the act. “It’s okay Sebastian I know you just wanted to impress me” she said almost teasing him, however given it was a true statement he saw no need in denying it.

The Sallow boy figured he wanted one more milestone before they would have to return to their normal lives. Nothing too far however after the day they had he wanted more than to just hold her hand. He unwrapped their fingers to instead put his arm around her shoulders. Pulling her body close to his, he allowed his warmth to circle her. He leaned in closer to her ear, lip’s barely grazing the lobe as he playfully whispered “So have i successfully impressed you y/n?” He asked not really caring about the answer. He truly just wanted to see her face flush. When her cheeks slowly tingled with pink she nodded while briefly making eye contact before staring into her lap.

“I will admit I like this more mature version of Sebastian I’ve had the pleasure of meeting today” she replied after a moment. He took a single strand of hair that was resting near his hand on her shoulder and twirled it letting it slip along his digits. He tried not to think of the implications of what she meant.

“Well, I promise if you wish to see more of him, that he’s all yours, should you choose…” his words faltered as he continued “I wouldn’t just comb my hair for anyone now” Sebastian continued with a laugh as she snorted, surprised at this playful retort in a time so intimate. He always felt those moments ought not be mutually exclusive.

She looked up at him. Same brown eyes as this morning. Same brown hair. Same freckled filled cheeks. Yet it all felt different now. She leaned in and she ever so gently placed a chaste kiss on his right cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as if to savor the moment.

“I would love nothing more”.

——————————————

In the following weeks since their visit to Feldcroft, Sebastian found himself always lingering next to her when he could. Sure she still had Ranrok and the keepers to deal with, occasionally joining Natsi or Poppy out of the castle for endeavors to take down the goblins or criminals, but he was there when she was free. Moments to and from class he found himself walking along side her, tucking her school supplies and in under one arm while the other was stretched out towards her. Despite still continuing their playful banter, he would find himself rushing ahead to hold doors, pulling out chairs for her to sit or offering his robe when she got cold. A flirty gentleman some would say.

The attention had not gone unnoticed by those around him either. Their house mates and friends obviously were quick to notice, as they saw more of the pair in places like the common room cuddled up next to the fire or at dinner when he’d offer the last roll to her. Poppy had clocked her crush on Sebastian quite early, as in one of their magical beasts class she caught the Slytherin girl staring longingly at the boy who was cuddling up next to a niffler.

Even some of the professors had noticed not just the pair, but the shift in the resident trouble maker as well. While he had always used a strong sense of manors around adults, they slowly started to notice the lack of finding him in precarious situations. Madam Scribner slowly started leaving the Restricted Section of the Library with its normal enchanted lock, and now no longer finding it tampered with in the mornings. Professor Sharp saw the way the boy was always quick to grab her often heavy advanced potions books and supplies, treating them with such care. One comment from professor Garlick almost sent her into a coma as the sweet herbology professor noted that it was “such a lovely thing to see young love blossoming at Hogwarts”, encouraging Sebastian to feel free to select any of the flowers he wished from her muggle section of the greenhouses. While he groaned at the embarrassment he still took her up on the offer anyway, often slipping them behind her ear from time to time.

After Ominis walked in on Sebastian and her laying in the undercroft one night sharing sweet words and stolen pecks, she decided she ought to show him the room of requirement. Deek had sworn to not tell professor Weasley of Sebastian’s presence as she had done so much for him and the magic creatures around hogwarts. Deek himself thought the calming nature that Sebastian brought the often stressed young girl to be a lovely thing. She truly did need to stop trying to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Sebastian had slowly realized as time went on that they could possibly save Anne with her ancient powers so his trips to the restricted section became less and less frequent. He slipped into an almost normalcy with her, in the most proper and respectable of ways. Something the mischievous boy would never have seen coming months before if you asked him. However, she had reigned him in much like she had the wild magical creatures she kept in the vivarium.

Sebastian had grown to love nothing more than sneaking off with her to the secret room after dinner and laying in the grass of her vivarium as she stroked his still growing brown locks. While he was still unsure quite how they worked, given his slowly growing tan, he would assume they acted as a port key of sorts, bringing them to a place almost always warm and sunny. The sunlight that brought him a slightly darker complexion was bringing out more of the freckles that she loved so dearly, as well as turning some of his brown tresses into a color similar to honey. She couldn’t help but love what the sunlight brought out in the young man.

Today they had migrated inside the back rooms of her private area, laying on a sectional she conjured months before. Her magic abilities in the brief amount of time she had known of them still impressed him. She set a book they had found in one of Isadoras’s workshops on the arm rest of the chair reading over the notes. He laid his head in the almost permanently claimed spot of her lap, soaking up the now normal affection of her petting his hair.

“What are your plans for winter holiday?” He asked her. She looked up from her book nervously. It’s not that she didn’t want him to worry but she knew he would feel bad for her when he discovered she had no plans other than staying at hogwarts.

“Well… professor Fig and I decided that with so many people after me right now, returning home to my very much muggle family would put them in harms way. I planned to stay here honestly…” she felt sheepish. The poor girl with no where to go in order to keep her family safe. Professor Fig had helped her pen them about the danger and while they were disappointed they understood why she intended to keep them at distance for now. Initially wary of the strange man who explained that their seemingly normal daughter was a witch, now accepting that he would stop at nothing to help keep her safe.

Sebastian sat up from her lap shocked she was going to spend Christmas alone. He reached for some blank parchment and a quill immediately without thinking. She looked at him confused for a moment before asking what he was doing.

“Writing to Uncle Solomon. No one should be alone at the holidays. Besides we already take in Ominis and Anne’s been begging to see you again”. He made it sound so natural. Of course she would spend her holidays with him. It made every ounce of sense to Sebastian.

She quietly responded “are you sure that’s okay? I don’t want to impose…”

He looked up from the now finished note, trying to find the owl that occasionally hung out in her private room. Finding it, he simply passed on instructions and sent the snowy owl on its way. Sebastian rejoined her on the couch, collecting her slightly shaky hands in his. “I see no reason for him to object given the situation. Whenever you’re there things are… easier” he quickly pondered how harvest festival had gone with her at their table. She actually did the heavy lifting with the cooking since Anne was still unwell and their uncle always seemed to burn dinner without the help of a “woman’s touch”. The pair of young girls had moved about the kitchen together laughing as flour coated their hair and warm smells filled the house. Even Ominis occasionally cracked a smile at their antics, finally getting to enjoy his two friends together and Anne seeming to be in better spirits than normal. The only bump in the road once again being Solomon slightly more grumpy this time, telling him to get a haircut before he returned home again. The thought loomed over him but he brushed it off as he still had a week to figure something out…

“I want you there” he said with sincerity as he found her eyes. She looked at him smiling and nodding. “Well we shall wait for your uncle to approve it or not before getting too excited” she said.

She always was more realistic and grounded than him. He understood though. She was the rational for his passionate nature. With the danger she faced and the power beneath her fingers, she had to be calm and level headed as to properly handle situations she found herself in. They had grown to compliment each other wonderfully.

“Of course. Although I don’t imagine he will take poorly to the idea. Although my uncle and I don’t often get along, he seems to enjoy my presence more now that you’re around.” Sebastian poked at her side and she laughed.

——————————————

They were in the slytherin common room close to curfew with Ominis and Imelda when the owl returned from Feldcroft. Sebastian unwound its note, snagging a treat that he discovered she always carried for his personal owl off her. The discovery had warmed his heart.

Sebastian,

I will allow y/n to come, with a set of conditions, as Anne seems to truly do better when she is around. First, you will continue to be a gentleman towards her. I want no funny business, and nothing beyond what is acceptable. Secondly I want no talk of a cure for Anne while anyone is here. Let us simply enjoy a normal holiday without your rambling. Lastly, I meant what I said about fixing that damn hair of yours. You have a lady on your arm, and you are representing our family, be mindful of that.

Off the ears and off the collar.

~ Solomon

She sat next to him, eyes pleading his response as he finished reading the note. He was thrilled she would be allowed to come… with the exception of the last part. Given their proximity to curfew he didn’t want to delve into the intricacies of why his uncle allowed her to come until the morning. The thought of openly giving Imelda ammunition on his hair, something she mocked enough on her own, made he queasy. Ominis also would tease him relentlessly if he knew, so he decided to wait until the following day to discuss it with her. They only had potions on Fridays, so they spent more time in the room of requirement on those class days.

“He said you are more than welcome to come.” Sebastian responded while tucking the note back in his blazer, as he had discarded his robe soon after reaching the common room. He accepted whatever fate he’d have to deal with in order to spend a holiday with his sister and his best girl…

——————————————

The night had come and gone. Sebastian was standing in the shared slytherin bathroom fixing his tie in the mirror before breakfast. His wet hair was still clinging to his forehead and in the back touching his shoulders. He sighed, running his hand through the brown tresses. In the past 7 weeks since she met his family, he had thoroughly enjoyed having her preen his locks. She was not shy about the fact his hair had to be one of her favorite qualities about him. He knew at some point it would have to come to an end as Solomon was still his guardian. Still it felt bittersweet.

He found himself zoning out at breakfast and in class. He was anxious beyond belief. The only thing keeping him grounded was her hand holding his beneath the table as she brought him back to earth every so often. She’d smile warmly at him and he’d fall back into reality for a bit as he briefly overheard the grumpiest of the professors praising her skill with the caldron. That’s my girl.

Once they finished for the day, he helped her navigate the halls with a simple hand on her lower back and all their books in his other arm. They always found themselves in the room of requirement without having to mention where they were going. Once inside she took off, going to care for the magical creatures. He sat nervously in one of the chairs she kept near her loom, holding the note from his uncle he’d received the night before. The same phrase that had been repeated over and over as he attempted to sleep still plagued him: off the ears and off the collar.

Sebastian wished he knew why such a trivial task caused him such anxiety. At the end of the day, hair was hair and it grew back. Even he could admit it was getting to the point he found himself frustrated with it most of the time as it fell into his line of sight or tickled his ears. He was more concerned with how she was handle it. That and the logistics of who was going to take shears to his head, since if it was him, he knew it would look bad.

She stepped out of the vivarium and walked towards him. In her hands she held some puffskin fur and joberknot feathers. She laid them out next to the loom and came to stand near him. Her fingers immediately sought out his hair. Usually the act would cause him to relax but now he found himself tensing up. She sensed him tense and removed her hand, almost wounded by his reaction. He looked at her as if to say it’s nothing you did.

He simply held up the note from Solomon for her to read as explanation for his strange reaction. At first she was worried something had happened with Anne, and quickly snatched the note. She had noticed his downtrodden nature all day and was worried what caused it. When she finally finished reading she understood why he seemed upset.

“What are you going to do?” She asked him in a hushed whisper. It seemed so trivial the more he thought about it. The girl who had a thousand problems, and faced real danger at every corner, was treating something so seemingly stupid with the same care she would rescuing someone from the likes of Victor Rookwood.

He sighed and grabbed her hand from his shoulder, placing a kiss on her knuckle. “Be a man and get a haircut” he said with a small laugh. No one was dying and she would continue to feel the same about him, at least he thought so.

She looked concerned for a moment before responding “who are you going to have do it for you?” She asked shifting her weight to her other foot. It was a reasonable question, and he understood why she’d ask. Anne was in no position to be doing such things. Ominis, while an expert at somehow managing to maintain his own hair perfectly, was unfortunately blind. He wouldn’t trust someone like Imelda near his head with shears. That only left himself and the girl as far as he thought.

“I could attempt it myself, or you could try..?” He seemingly posed as a question. While he was confident she would do her absolute best, and wouldn’t Intentionally make him look bad, the worried look at the thought that crossed her face made him concerned.

She pondered it for a moment, face full of anxiety and fear. Then she had a brief flash of realization. She took his arm, leading him to the floo flame towards an unknown destination. Under normal circumstances he’d be worried but he fully trusted her. At the end of the day, he truly only was concerned about looking presentable for her.

Within seconds of using the flame he smelled the familiar air of Hogsmeade. She continued pulling him off towards the small river. He let her. She knew what she was doing. Sebastian knew one thing about his life at the current moment: he could trust her with just about anything from his life to even something as small as grooming. She knew how much small things like this were sometimes scary for him. Sebastian knew that she would respect his childhood trauma entirely while also making sure he didn’t walk away appearing as if he got attacked by a kneazle.

He saw the striped red pole and realized where the girl must be taking him. He remembers Anne coming here after a confringo disaster lead to her requiring the bangs she still kept to this day. Madam Snelling sure had a reputation around Hogsmeade as someone who, while occasionally pegged for rude, was honest to a fault. In fact, day of the troll attack, while she was off repairing carts for some of the venders she had stopped him, practically begging him to allow her the opportunity to tame the unruly hair that was even quite disheveled at the beginning of their school year.

Before heading inside she gave him one last glance as if to ask “is this okay?” And he simply nodded, grabbing the door and stepping aside so she may enter. Upon entering she was immediately swept into loud pleasantries with the flamboyant woman. He watched almost laughing as the girl received air kisses from the stylist commenting on how she is glad the girl took her advice and started leaving her hair down from time to time.

He glanced around realizing while he passed it often in Hogsmeade, it was one of the few stores he actually hadn’t stepped foot in. He did know for a fact that Ominis liked to pretend he didn’t come inside almost twice a month to maintain the same appearance he had sported since first year. After today Sebastian realized he could no longer tease his friend for it. “So what brings you in today?” The older woman asked, glancing at the pair of Slytherin students.

She pulled him closer to her side as he had unintentionally been cowering behind her. “Well, I know you said I could cash in a favor sometime, so I was wondering if you could help this one out in place of that favor…” she trailed off gesturing to Sebastian.

Madam snelling looked absolutely thrilled finally seeing the young boy who’s hair had to have been as lovely as his twins sister in her shop. “Ah the Sallow boy! I remember your sister, Ann isn’t it?” He simply nodded reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He felt her hand slowly rubbing up and down his back in reassurance. “I have been wanting to get my hands on that mane months ago after the troll attack! Besides I do owe your friend a favor for running all the way to the coast to collect supplies for me”. She started rambling about how floo travel turned whatever she had delivered into unintentional hair dye so it must be transported via broom.

She removed her hand from his back and stepped back towards the stylist, speaking in a quiet tone he couldn’t quite understand. Madam Snelling nodded quickly at whatever she had informed her of quickly replying “I will be gentler than a mooncalf I promise! Come on over Love” she said turning her attention back towards him.

He cautiously sat down, allowing her to tousle his hair around before she asked him “so what kind of style would you like today?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. The events of the last 24 hours had led him into a situation he truly couldn’t have planned for. Snelling must have realized he didn’t know so she hoped to ease him in a direction by saying “I know your other friend, the blind boy, comes here often. I could do the same as him if you want?” No. He wanted to scream that while his friend looked great, that is not a look Sebastian imagined would look good on himself.

She spoke up quickly from next to him before he found the words to respond. “Is there any way you could just help clean up what he has now? As long as its just off the ears and collar I am sure it will be a tad more acceptable than it is now”.

Thank Merlin. He thought to himself.

“I don’t really do simply acceptable if you know what I mean dear. I made a career out of making people look good. While… we certainly have a good frame to work from there’s much to be desired by this current lack of style. I have a few ideas on my own, I was wondering if you knew what essence you were reaching for?” Sebastian was more than confused. How does hair have an essence?

The girl once again cut in, bringing the words he could no longer find to the conversation, “What about just a proper gentleman with a more ruggedly handsome edge? He has this one lock that always falls on his forehead, I would hate to see that too tamed you know? I think he should maintain a sense of himself. Also if you can leave it long enough to still put a hand through that would be perfect.”

Madam Snelling immediately started smiling and nodding her head. Finally. While Sebastian was quite confused what exactly that all meant, knowing she like also didn’t know what the outcome would be either, he trusted her.

It wasn’t long before he found himself with hair freshly washed and an anxious expression meeting her face. She gave him a reassuring smile. At least he knew that he would avoid another hack job at the hands of his uncle or an accidental mistake if she had braved his unruly hair in the room of requirement. A quite funny thought of Deek appearing just to see him with a towel around his shoulders and poorly cut hair on the floor almost made him laugh. Oh Merlin, if they had to rely on the house elf for help that would’ve been a disaster.

Honestly, the more he pondered it, the chances of ending up at a place like here to fix a mess someone else made seemed the most likely outcome. They had simply bypassed few steps. He could live with that.

Sebastian realized that this didn’t have to seem such the death sentence he had built it up to be in his head. He wasn’t a young boy anymore, who could have long hair being groomed by his mother. He was a young man who, wether he wanted to admit it or not, had to demonstrate the best the Sallow name had to offer. Sebastian should want to look presentable for her, so she could walk around her dorms without Imelda mocking her about when she was going to ‘groom him’. He finally sat up straighter seeing this as an opportunity for success not a punishment designed to make him fail. Besides, she was along him every step of the way, and would still be there at the end of the day to take him back to the privacy they developed and continue preening him.

He was slowly loosing himself in his thoughts when he heard her ask Madam Snelling “Is there any way possible you could show me how to do that? We often don’t get much free time these days and as I am sure you can tell, he still is quite jumpy when strangers touch him. It may be a good piece of knowledge to have for future reference”.

The woman simply nodded bringing the girl around to show her exactly what she was doing as he sat there, unsure where to look. He opted to simply close his eyes and let the process unfold without him awkwardly making eye contact in the mirror.

When the snipping started he was thankful that he had already shut his eyes as the first few sounds were quite jarring. He slowly felt his right ear being unearthed from the months of hair growth. It felt cold.

Madam Snelling, for as much shit as everyone gave her, genuinely seemed to care about her customers comfort in the chair. She noticed him still slightly tense and simply asked if she could get him anything, which he brushed off, opening his eyes again to see her very patient eyes examining the process in case in the future she would have to repeat it.

“Wow Sebastian I didn’t realize truly how long your hair has gotten” she said sheepishly. She almost seemed sorry by the way she spoke. What he didn’t know was that moments ago, seeing him having to loose the locks she knew he enjoyed simply so she could spend Christmas in Feldcroft made her feel guilty. It almost hadn’t crossed her mind, but as the first wave of chocolate brown hair hit the floor she understood the gravity of the situation. He was putting himself in a situation he didn’t want to be in for her.

The two had become close in the small amount of time they’d known each other and he could read her tone immediately. While confused why she would feel such as way, he lifted a hand out, almost beckoning her to grab it.

She didn’t notice him reaching for her at first, as her eyes were still trained to the floor watching the small mountain of brown hair accumulate at her feet. The same soft brown hair she loved watching him tousle. The same hair she herself would ruffle to calm him. Snelling sure is taking a lot of hair off she couldn’t help but think. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that she realized he was holding a hand out to her. She moved around, careful to not slip over his hair, and allowed him to thread his fingers with hers.

She had spent so much time reassuring him that everything would be fine, and now he needed to return the favor. “Hey, I really don’t mind this y/n. You’ve been kind enough to help me get this done properly, which I never would have asked for or even thought to do. Hell I was content to pass the shears to the house elf and let him give it a go when he’s only got a few hairs to call his own” she laughed at the thought as he continued “Is it something I would’ve done for myself, probably not, but this is such a small price to pay to wake up and see you amongst my family Christmas morning.” He spoke to her calmly for the first time since last night. She simply nodded.

He did feel the need to break the looming serious that had been over them by adding “Besides, it was getting unruly. How on Earth did you allow yourself to be seen in public with me?”.

She shrugged at his words with a small smile, realizing he was slowly starting to let go of the tension as the nape of his neck was slowly appearing for the first time since she’d known him. Finally coming to peace with the situation he tried to just relax. Haircuts could feel nice he supposed. Solomon always haphazardly grabbed large chunks of his hair, quickly removing them in whatever fashion was the fastest. Anne, while more gentle, just simply cut every strand a tad shorter than it was, unwilling to go further for fear of messing up. While the feeling of the enchanted shears and Madam Shellings fingers on his scalp were gentle. She would cautiously lift certain pieces, explaining to the girl what she was doing, before allowing the strands to be clipped. It felt more relaxing than he figured it would. Not quite as nice as the new student simply running her hands through his hair, but still nice.

He did loose his calm nature for a brief moment when he opened his eyes to search where she had situated herself and he caught a glimpse of a quite large chunk of his brown locks falling into his lap. Oh Merlin. He couldn’t help but semi-panic but when he made eye contact again with the girl, seeing her smiling at his new appearance, the worry disappeared again.

Eventually the snipping stopped and he was turned away from the mirror. He felt hands pushing strands of his hair out of his face. At least he knew he had a tad bit left. He had begun to grow mildly concerned seeing the size of some of the snippets and with how long it was beginning to take. Madam snelling took a step back, asking his companion what she thought.

He was curious at her reaction, blushing as she looked down at him. She came forward, pulling a strand or two onto his forehead. Her eyes locking with his brown ones. He sucked in a breath seeing her so close. “I love seeing these few pieces fall over his brow” she said before continuing “I really love it Madam Snelling. I can’t thank you enough for both being gentle and informative. I had grown used to the unkept look, I think it certainly looks more mature.”

“It was a pleasure Dear. I do say it’s some of my best work. What did you call it again?” She asked reaching around and undoing the cape around him, sending massive amounts of different sized clippings onto the floor. Sebastian stood and reached up to his neck. It was quite odd not immediately feeling brown curls under his fingers, but it wasn’t a bad thing necessarily.

“A ruggedly handsome gentleman?” She asked looping her fingers through his, pulling him towards a mirror. After having to navigate his hair on the floor - a sight that might’ve sent him into a coma days before - he found himself gazing at his appearance for the first time.

The sides were not much to write home about. Short enough to comply with Solomon’s rules, but not sheared down l short enough to show skin. The top however was shockingly split down the middle where it used to be pushed all to one side. In the front strands had been left longer and had been pushed back, almost like curtains, over his ears stood. In the front he saw the few strands she had pulled back on his brow in their normal place. It was different, but he felt as though it could be a nice change.

“So what do we think?” He found the stylist leaning against her counter, lighting a cigarette, beaming at her work.

Sebastian had to admit, he really did look good. Probably more put together than he had in years, yet as he lifted his hands to run his finger through it, noting that she had left him enough length in the curtain style fringe to run his hands through and push it off his face on both sides. “It’s going to take some getting used to…” he started to say, feeling her eyes on him, and he continued musing his brown locks in the mirror, gaining confidence as he continued. “I think its a nice change. I still feel like myself which is nice. It just won’t take a long time in the morning fusing over it not laying properly. Thank you, I am not sure I could have properly articulated this, but it’s perfect”.

He wasn’t sure how much of the thanks came across as directed at Snelling instead of her, but he didn’t really care. He truly just wanted to go back in the Room of Requirement and spend time with her until dinner, where he was sure their friends were going to have a lot to say. He merely put an arm out for her to hold. Madam Snelling passed him a small thing of gel, similar to Ominis’s but not quite as greasy. She explained to him that just a little would go a long way in keeping it looking tousled but in place. She even demonstrated how to quickly for the boy. She then sent the kids on their way with a quick comment about how long it was going to take to clean her floor from the massacre she preformed on his head. She slipped her arm into his and followed him out the door with a chime.

“Care to join me for a butter bear m’lady?” He spoke with a bad posh accent making her laugh.

“Lead the way kind sir” she responded as the pair headed off for the three broomsticks.

—————————————

When they reappeared in the Room of Requirement a small voice called out semi-startling the pair.

“How wonderful it is to see you again Miss y/l/n, and with your friend Sebastian who looks much older with his new do. ” The small house elf spoke up as they came barreling in the room laughing about how pale Sebastians neck look in comparison to the rest of him.

Receiving taunts from their friends was something he expected, however compliments from a house elf weren’t on his list of things to happen today. Sebastian simply responded “thank you Deek” as he ran a hand through the left side which had slightly shifted back onto his forehead from the floo travel.

Deek turned his attention back to her, telling her one of her thestrals had given birth to a fawn as Sebastian found himself looking in one of the many mirrors spread around the room. He was slowly getting acclimated to how it felt, getting used to not seeing the wild brown locks haphazardly placed around his head would take some getting used to. It felt a lot lighter as well.

He had already received several compliments now, Sirona hardly recognized him, saying that it was a “pleasant and unexpected change”. Although, the way she had passed glasses between the pair made him question if the witch was referring to the haircut or the change between himself and the new student.

After checking on the recently born thestral she joined him in the adjacent room on the lounge. As she sat next to him, he caught her staring, quickly quipping “you are staring you know”.

She quickly muttered out an apology, “I am sorry, your ears are just really lovely. Who knew they were hiding under there this whole time?”

“How are ears lovely?” He questioned with a laugh.

“I don’t know, they just are…” she trailed off, looking at her lap, embarrassed. He carefully lifted a hand to move her hair from covering the ear closest to him. While he didn’t exactly know what she had meant, he still took the opportunity to playful mess with her.

Lowering his mouth to her ear he kissed the outer shell before lowering his mouth, whispering against her earlobe the same way he had done in Feldcroft so long ago; “Everything about you is lovely, you know that?” He told her. While attempting to get a rise out of her, he still meant the words. He wasn’t prepared for the small moan that came tumbling past her lips before she could stop it.

Heat quickly rushed to both their cheeks. Maybe it was feeling more confidence due to the recent makeover, but Sebastian decided to do something that aired on the side of not-so-proper. He leaned back in towards her ear again, ever so carefully taking the lobe between his lips. He could feel the way she suckled in a deep breath, holding it. He lightly allowed his teeth to graze the delicate skin before leaning back just enough that he could see her eyes.

Somewhere along the way she had closed her eyes at the feeling. Her cheeks still flaming red as the new found act of intimacy startled and excited her in ways she didn’t fully understand. Before she had time to respond the bells for dinner started chiming and the trance was broken.

“We should probably go eat” she whispered out, not moving and voice thick with the looming feelings surrounding both of them.

“I concur, after you” he said responding in a similar manor. Neither moved. While he was certain she enjoyed the affection, he was unsure if she felt he crossed a line. The two, while close and growing daily into a nice rhythm, had yet to officially address what they were developing into. Realizing he had neglected to properly ask her to be his, assuming their shared glances, hand holding, and other moments to be sufficient.

When she didn’t move from the couch he simply decided that was something he needed to rectify. Sebastian pulling his weight from beside her, moving to the floor in front of where she sat. Taking one of her hands in his own he went to speak when he noticed her eyes get wide. “I am not doing that, calm down” he said realizing this was a similar stance to when rings were involved. Not now, but someday he thought.

“I am realizing on this lovely Friday that I have been improper. I have carried your affections without offering you the full extent of my hand. Would you do me the honor of an honest and proper courtship?” He said it in the same silly voice earlier he had used to invite her to the Three Broomsticks, however the weight of his words poked through despite his antics.

She simply nodded and he placed a delicate kiss to her knuckles before lifting her to her feet. “And would the lady please accompany me to fine dining of the great hall amongst our most cumbersome of allies?” He said continuing the same bit.

The pair broke out in laughter slowly creeping out the hall towards the floo flame. Given they would depart tomorrow for Feldcroft, she stopped to make sure Deek would be able to care for the beasts while she was away. Sebastian watched as the house elf handed her a scarf knit from the joberknot feathers she had been saving. She thanked him, giving him a small book in return. She is kind even to house elfs he thought.

The last thing they heard Deek say as they headed to exit was “It is so lovely to see Miss y/l/n and her friend Sebastian so happy”. And for once he couldn’t agree more.

—————————————

While he told himself he was prepared for the amount of grief his housemates were going to throw his way, he certainly wasn’t expecting the news to completely flood the Great Hall…

“No, no please Imelda describe it to me in detail.” Ominis said with a laugh. The table had been making jabs left and right as she and Sebastian arrived and took their normal seats.

“It’s better than he normally looks that is for certain” Imelda said before congratulating her roommate on successfully ‘domesticating’ the boy. She returned to Ominis and for once held back spite as she took her time carefully describing how it looked to their blind friend. While Ominis may have been cracking a joke, he truly did appreciate getting to gain a better sense of what his oldest friend now looked like.

Sebastian wished they could have sat at the Hufflepuff table.

Everyone in his house had similar reactions of openly giving him cheek, yet agreeing it was a pleasant change. He still felt quite self conscious about the whole ordeal. He was extremely grateful when her quiet friend Poppy Sweeting came over to exchange small gifts for the upcoming holiday, finding the courage to say that Sebastian should “Ignore what everyone is saying” and that she thought he “looked very handsome”. She really did live up to that name.

It still wasn’t easy to ignore the gagging noises he could hear from the Gryffindor table as he openly saw Leander and Gareth mocking both his new haircut and his affections towards the girl. He caught them making mocking kiss faces at each other after pretending to lob off Weasleys hair. He could stand to loose a few inches as well he thought before electing to wait until crossed wands to deal with them.

Before long dinner had ended and the group migrated back to their common rooms. Along the way they ran into several professors, including Fig who pulled the girl aside to confirm the work she was to continue over the holiday on their shared mission. The kind old man then returned the young girl to Sebastian’s company and made sure to compliment the boy saying “Mr. Sallow I dare say you have turned into a spritely young gentleman. Please keep an eye on Miss y/l/n over the holiday… although I am sure she will keep as close of an eye on you, as you will on her” Fig flashed a wink at the pair before quickly returning to whatever direction he had been running off to.

When they finally returned back to the safety of the common room the pair collapsed together on the couch closest to the fire. They knew curfew would soon be approaching, and tomorrow would have an early start, but for now they simply wanted to enjoy the remaining moments at Hogwarts before the end of the term.

He kept his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they all continued conversations with their housemates. she noticed on occasion his fingers would start drawing patterns across her shoulder. She did everything in her power to not blush as it slowly lulled her to sleep. Slowly everyone started trickling back to their rooms, leaving the common room mostly empty. He didn’t want to wake her, but assumed shed much rather start tomorrow on a full nights sleep. Besides prefects would be around for bed check soon. He brushed some hair off her face that had fallen when her head had softly leaned into his shoulder.

He placed a soft peck to her forehead, softly rubbing circles on her arm to help her slowly wake up. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes, finding him staring back at her with his lovely brown eyes. “Hey beautiful its bed time” he said still looking down at her.

She nodded and slowly stretched out her stiff muscles before allowing him to help her stand to her feet. She wobbled a bit, but he kept her upright, slowly helping her navigate back to the base of the enchanted steps he couldn’t help her climb. Damned Salazar Slytherin and his stupid charmed stairs.

She climbed up on the first step before turning around to give Sebastian a brief hug. Her toned arms wrapped around his neck and she breathed a sigh into his ear. He felt her smile as her cheek was resting against his skin. Before he could question why, he felt her delicate fingers toy with the now short locks at the base of his neck before she placed a small kiss on his ear, in the same manor he had earlier. Immediately everything became warm.

As quickly as she had done it, she pulled back from him. She ran a quick hand through his hair before saying “I truly love this haircut Sebastian, and I can’t wait to explore all it has to offer… goodnight Love” before running off. Between her comment and actions he felt the blood in his face rush elsewhere, and for once he was glad his best friend and roommate was very blind…

—————————————

It was very early in the morning as Sebastian crept down the hall to shower. He had been up most of the evening and wanted nothing more than to have the cool water run over his body before he was expected to be around people. While today most students boarded the Hogwarts express to go home for the holidays, their method of floo travel meant they weren’t stuck to a strict timeline. However, Sebastian this year wanted to leave early during the winter holidays in order to eat breakfast with Anne instead of in the Great Hall. He had risen earlier than even Omanis usually did, heading to take a quick shower before anyone else would be awake.

It was almost a startling surprise when he realized he grossly overestimated how much shampoo it would require for his short hair, dumping in the normal galleon sized amount, and the suds took forever to wash out. He made a mental note to Remember to use less shampoo next time.

Sebastian quickly dried off and slowly started to dress for the day, opting for a more casual trouser and loose fitting button down shirt. No need to wear the 3 piece plaid suits he was accustomed to at school. Toweling off his hair also took little time at all. He was used to having to fight it in the morning. Attempting to comb it after drying always took forever, yet only took a few seconds now. It was convenient he’d give it that. Heeding Madam Snellings words of caution, he used only a small amount of the cream she’d given him the day before, just to make sure it appeared tidy. While he planned on most days to let it hang somewhat free, making sure his uncle was satisfied today would be important.

After quietly packing his things and heading to the common room, he sat by the fire and decided to continue working on what kept him up late last night. After heading off to bed he realized that now with y/n coming to spend Christmas with his family, that he would also need to think of the perfect gift for her. Ominis was usually one of the simplest people to shop for, as he always enjoyed muggle literature translated into braille. Anne always was quite simple, as he knew his twin inside and out. For her however… it seemed difficult as some gifts seemed too sudden and others seemed not enough. Sebastian also had come to semi-unfortunate realization that she had to be one of, if not the best gift giver in the world. From the handmade niffler plush she made Poppy, to the Ugandan styled Gryffindor robes she designed for Natty.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard movement coming from the girls dorm hallway. Before long he heard quiet laughter. He turned his attention towards the hall in time to see her and Imelda coming down the stairs. Imelda was holding a new quidditch robe in her hands, with her holding what he assumed to be an updated broom in hers. Perfect gift giver.

He was shocked when his girl and Imelda formed a friendship, as he always found the girl quite rude and Anne had less than savory opinions after sharing a room for 4 years. Yet, being around her seemed to bring out a somewhat bearable side in the Irish Slytherin to the point he at this rate considered her more than an acquaintance. Imelda came down the stairs with the girl dressed in a simple linen shirt and trousers, her dark brown hair which usually sat in a boring ponytail was in one of the elaborate braids he knew must have been the work of her skilled hands. She quickly hugged the girl before saying “Happy Christmas” and acknowledging Sebastian with a nod and running back towards their room.

At her quick dismissal she turned around and came to sit with Sebastian. He had tucked the parchment he had been using to brainstorm back in his bag so she would not see. She came and sat next to him, her eyes drinking him in. He suddenly remembered the other thing that kept him up all night…

Sebastian moved to grab the hand she had been using to hold her bag, holding it in his own. “Goodmorning, you look beautiful as ever”. He said taking note of her chosen wardrobe. Dark green trousers which slightly tugged at her thighs, an off white button down that stopped at the elbow and a tight blue vest overtop. She seemed a bit more casual than normal, yet maintained the same look she always managed to have. She had thrown a worn brown leather coat on top of her bag, presumably for if it got colder. At closer inspection he saw… spikes? Where did she get a dragon skin cloak? No doubly plucked it off some poachers now that he thought of it. His girl was resourceful, he would give her that.

He was elated to see she had twisted her y/h/c hair into a very elaborate braid this morning, knowing Anne would enjoy seeing it. He was snapped back to reality when she said “you don’t look too bad yourself. How’s the hair holding up” She gestured towards his head before carefully adjusting his usually misplaced lock back to its natural resting place.

“Still getting used to it… I way overdid it with the soap this morning and it took ages to finally wash out…” her laugh cut him off. She couldn’t help but imagine his shock discovering that his normal amount of shampoo to way too much.

“Ya know, there is one thing I am still trying to figure out about it…” he said, breaking her thoughts from the hilarious image he had initially laid out. She almost didn’t catch how his tone had shifted. However, the gleam in his eyes vanished and instead was replaced by a look that was much darker.

“What would that be” she struggled to get out, voice suddenly going horse with nerves. He leaned in to her, brushing her braid off her shoulder and onto her back. Sebastian took his left pointer finger, slowly running the back of it down the side of her cheek and onto her neck before smirking. Leaning closer to her ear he whispered “I spent practically all night racking my brain trying to figure out exactly what my hair would have to offer you, and why you seemed so eager to explore it…”

At the mention of her own words, her eyes went wide. To be fair, she hadn’t meant to be so lewd the night before. Waking her up from sleep made her a lot more candor than she had ever intended. However, sitting here looking at the half smile playing on the lips of the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen her ability to care was slowly starting to dwindle.

She tried to play the same game he was getting at by replying “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out…” in the most sultry tone she could muster. She was completely unprepared for the almost growl that escaped his throat as she spoke. His eyes grew as it must’ve startled him as well.

Before either could reply they heard a bag drop to the floor near them as well as a voice drift out saying “If you two are done I would like to get going”. Ominis. He sure had a wonderful way of finding them in the worst possible moment. Now was no exception. He did have a point though, Sebastian couldn’t help but think. Collecting his bags, and hers the trio started to the flame, and with a flash were off to Feldcroft for the holidays.

To Be Continued…

Authors note:

I plan to continue this as a small series so stay tuned for when I finish part two, and I will upload as soon as I can! Feel free to leave suggestions if you choose! Also the photo linked in the text is a screenshot from TikTok where someone demonstrated an appearance Mod if anyone would like to know, the account name is @miss_soapy. It provided most of the inspiration for the fic… Thanks for reading!

Part 2 out Now:

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