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awniie · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ their reaction to you wearing their clothes (gojo , namani , choso )

ʚ content: suggestive, fem!reader , underwear stealing (but reverse) , domestic wife? whiny choso, drabble , no actual smut, spanking? , gojo calls reader (greedy, whore, brat ) proof read to an extent ֺ ♡

ʚ note: I kinda love this one, was tempted to write a whole one-shot with gojo ⊹ ݁ ° ⋆

ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ namani - button up !

Nanami came home from a long day at work to you, cooking something aromatic in the kitchen, gowned in one of his button up shirts. His eyebrows pulled taunt as he took in the sight. You’d never wore any of his shirts before, probably because he was so precise with his clothing. “These are strictly for work” Nanami mani recalled informing you one lazy afternoon, as he hung up the identical shirts on the hangers in the walk-in closet you shared. But, what he failed to remember was that today was your big spring cleaning day, not corner was to be left unattended. So naturally, you worked your way into the closet and gotten into his excess of button-ups and did some ‘reorganizing.’

Your husband silently cursed himself for restricting your access to his wardrobe before. His brown narrow eyes lazily drifted over your figure. The shirt was oversized on you, barely hanging on to your shoulders. The buttons on the collar were unfastened, revealing your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. The slits on the hem exposing your upper-thighs covered in stretch marks. He was practically drooling. You were a pretty wrapped birthday present, practically begging to be delicately undone.

“Oh hi Ken’! How was work?” You chirp, looking up from the cutting board with a big smile, unaware of the way your husband ogled you and your body. He had only a little bit of his restraint left as he grunting out a half-hearted “fine” before he comes up behind you, your back up against his chest and heavy fingertips at your hips. He softly kisses your jaw and works down to your neck, taking advantage of his position to peer the collar of his shirt that was just soo loose on you. “Darling, what did I say about wearing my shirts?” He questioned crossly. He wasn’t really mad, he just like the way you let out those nervous giggles whenever you were caught doing something you were supposed to. “Oh, this?” you play clueless as he peppers open-mouthed kisses across your neck. “It’s just one of your old ones. It’s practically a rag.” you tell him, letting out a surprised gasp and his mouth moves to the your pulse, teasing it with his mouth. He let out a ‘tsk’ “No wife of mine will be wearing a rag.” He runs a hand underneath the warm linen, caressing your skin directly.

“Let me take them off you then.”

ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ choso - graphic tee !

You and your boyfriend choso share a closet and also a fashion sense, so naturally your happen to have mix-ups with your clothes. You’ve mixed some of his socks with yours, grabbing the other’s similar colored hoodie by accident. He’s even had one of your lacy panties on the back of his shirt, which you took off and showed him, getting a confused look and a furious blush in return. Any sort of clothing mishap, you guys have had it and today was no different. So when you accidentally put on one of his graphic tees early this morning, he didn’t think much of it.

He opened his mouth to tell you, but closed it as he watched you move in it. It was big on you, but he loved it. The way it slid off the shoulder, revealing the fact that you were not wearing a bra. How it only came down to about halfway down your thighs, so when you bent it over it would rise up and he could see the pink fabric of your panties. He couldn’t help himself, so he followed you around the apartment all day like a lost puppy, trying to sneak a look at all your parts. Of course, you eventually noticed and you thought it was the cutest. So you decided to put on a show for him. You purposely tried to grab at items high on the shelf, just so you could torture him when the shirt rose above your hips and shoved your midriff and ass. He’d try so hard not to be too obvious, but when you would suddenly turn around and catch him staring, he’d start blushing and grab whatever you were reaching for you, avoiding eye contact.

Eventually, he got desperate. When you were preoccupied, he came up from behind you, lifting up the back of the shirt without difficulty. You were taken aback and tried to turn around and face him, but he was pressed against you firmly. “Cho’! You’d better be careful with your shirt.” You warned him with faux innocence, but not before rubbing your backside against him. You loved him like this, all whiny and raspy voiced. He groaned at the stimulation of you pressing on him and swallowed hard. “Don’t care baby. Need you so badly.” He whined, grinding his crotch against the fat of your ass.

“You’ve been teasing me all day. J’s need to get my damn shirt off you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ satoru - boxers !

It was late in the morning as your boyfriend satoru was doing his morning routine. Teeth brushed? Check. Face washed? Check. He had laid out his clothes, ready to put them on when he realized his black boxers were missing. “Babe?” He called out from the bathroom. “Have you seen my boxers…they were literally right here.” You respnded with an eyebrow furrowed. “No, I haven’t? Maybe you thought you did. Just grab another pair.” You advise, moving on to the next thing. Your boyfriend isn’t stupid though , no matter what you might say. He swore he places his underwear along with the rest of his clothes but it was childish to keep discussing over it, so he simply got a new pair.

This mystery didn’t go away though, in fact it started occurring more and more often. His boxers were going missing. His drawer filled with the, started to get more and more empty, seemingly every wash day. What was worst was that every time he tried to inform of you this phenomenon, you’d brush it off. “You’re such a child ‘toru.” you’d tease him. “There probably scattered around the house somewhere, you never put your clothes away.” scoffing and shutting down the possibility of there being some kind of…boxer thief. He’d rolled his eyes and try to press on but you weren’t hearing it. So he would have to find the culprit himself. He checked the dryer, making sure nothing had disappeared inside. Nothing. Then he’d check the dirty clothes hamper and his side of the closet, just to double check. Nothing. Logically thinking, there was only two of you in the apartment. So logically, the only person who could be taking his boxer…could be you. When he’d bought it up, you shoved the thought back down. “No, gojo. I haven’t been taking your underwear. I don’t want to hear anymore about this. If you need some so bad, I’ll go to the store with you we can buy some more.” You’d told him, not looking up from your phone. He knows it was wrong but, he didn’t believe you 100%. So, if you didn’t want to admit it, he’ll just have to prove it for himself.

“Oh my gosh, toru what are you doing?!” You yelped, as your boyfriend literally pantsed you. He couldn’t care less about your squeals and squirming, as there right in front of him was his missing boxers. He brought a heavy hand down on your ass, watching it jiggle. “See babe, guess I was right.” He’d gloat, bounding your two wrists together with his hand, bending you over the kitchen counter. You felt your face warm in some sort of twisted mix of shame and arousal. “I’m sorry, they’re just so much more comfortable than my panties.” You confessed, letting out another yelp as he brought another slap to your ass. “Sneaky ass bitch. Thinking you can take my boxers and then lie about it. If you wanted to borrow some, ya’ should’ve just asked.” He scolded you, his own boner poking out of one of the only pairs of underwear he has left. He rubbed his cock against your clothed cunt, bringing out whines from you.”

“Since you like my damn boxers so much, I’ll fuck you with them still on.”

@awniie’s please don’t steal ! ㅤㅤㅤ⭑

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lipglossanon · 9 months

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The Subject of Schoolgirl Fantasy

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Professor!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

for @ohbvnny and the many anons who asked for professor leon; hope ya like it! 💜 and thank you for your patience 😘

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, teacher/student relations, kissing, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✍️

Title from Don’t Stand Too Close to Me by The Police

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“Class dismissed.”

Professor Kennedy waves everyone to the door, wristwatch catching the light drawing your attention to his forearms, (on mouth watering display since he rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt to his elbows).

You loiter at your desk, slowly gathering your things and reorganizing your bag as the last stragglers bolt out the door, glad to be finished for the week. It’s pure luck that Professor Kennedy is your last class on Friday’s, something you’re thankful for every weekend.

“Do you have some questions for me?” a low amused tone reaches your ears, drawing you out of your thoughts.

You meet Professor Kennedy’s warm, blue eyes, a ghost of a smile hovering at his lips.

“Sorry,” you bite your lip in embarrassment, “I kinda zoned out.”

“No worries,” he’s leaning back against his desk, one leg crossed over the other making his black slacks cling to his thick thighs.

He crosses his arms, making your mouth go dry at the strain it puts on his shirt; his biceps and chest are pressed right against the fabric making your knees feel weak.

“Actually I did want to mention something to you,” his eyes watch as you finally look back into his face.

“Sir?”

He grins at you, “That last test I gave, it seems you struggled pretty badly.”

You wince and duck your head down bashfully, “Yeah, I had a hard time learning the material.”

He tsks, “Now that just won’t do.”

You look back up at him and he tilts his head, sandy hair falling into one eye.

“I usually don’t offer, but would you like to earn some extra credit?”

You smile excitedly, “Yes, actually that would be great. Thank you, Professor.”

He chuckles, “Follow me to my office then.”

You fall behind him as he leaves the classroom and walks down to the end of the hall; he pulls his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door.

Opening it, he gestures for you to go inside first.

“It’s pretty quiet on Fridays,” he states as he shuts the door behind you, and twists the bolt to lock it when you’re not looking.

“I’m sure, most people are ready to go home,” you smile, feeling shy in his presence alone.

“I’ll bet. You have any raging parties to get to this weekend?”

You laugh at that, following him further into his office and taking a seat on the sofa.

“No, just headed home to study and get a head start on some things.”

As he moves over to his desk, dropping his keys on the mahogany surface, you get a chance to really take in the room. Spacious is the first thing that comes to mind followed by cozy. His desk is facing the entryway with bookcases all around. Against one wall is the sofa you’re sitting on and on the opposite wall just really run of the mill office art.

The sofa dips as he sits next to you, his thigh a hot brand against your leg. Internally, you’re squealing, so thankful you decided on wearing a cute skirt today. Leon pulls you from your thoughts again by handing you a bottle of water.

“Would offer a glass of scotch,” he tilts his glass at you, “but don’t know if you’re driving, sweetheart,” he winks at you as you take the bottle from him with a shaky hand.

“Oh thank you and I’m not—not driving that is,” you clear your throat, “I’ve never really had any scotch, so don’t know if I’d like it.”

“Really?” his blue eyes seem darker in his office, especially as they drag down then back up your body.

“Would you like to try some?”

He practically purrs as he leans forward into your personal space. You’re overtaken by his smoky cologne and sandalwood aftershave.

“Please.”

Your eyes droop as he tilts his glass against your bottom lip, mouth parting to take in the amber liquid he’s offering. He groans softly when he sees your throat swallow, tilting the glass higher for more scotch to pour out. You choke a little, liquid spilling out the sides of the glass all down your chin to drip down your neck.

Leon drops the empty glass on the carpeted floor and hungrily licks the trail of scotch. He starts at the base of your neck and follows the sticky tracks up to your mouth. With a sigh, you’re opening up for his thick tongue. He groans and licks messily into your mouth.

Pulling away, a silvery string of saliva bridges your mouths before you break it by licking your lips.

His eyes are hot and heavy as he moves to kneel on the carpet, in between your legs. You moan softly as he kneads your calves with warm hands.

“I enjoy the taste of scotch, but there’s another flavor that I’d like to try now,” he smirks at you, hands drifting up to your thighs.

You let out a shaky breath and part your legs further under his hungry gaze as he massages the fat of your thighs.

“Professor,” a mewling whimper escapes your lips as he rucks your skirt up to expose your dainty panties.

“Fucking criminal,” he groans, thumb rubbing over the little lace bow at the top of your underwear.

“Going to be a good student for me, sweetheart? Let me taste this hot little pussy?”

You nod and he grins, “Hold up your skirt for me then. There ya go, such a good girl.”

Your hands reach down and grab the hem of your skirt, pulling it up til it’s above your hips all while he watches you. His strong jawline seems more pronounced when his brow furrows in concentration as he teases the band of your panties.

“You okay with this?” he murmurs up at you, finally dragging his eyes up to meet your gaze.

“Uh huh,” you nod so fast it makes his lips quirk up in a half smile.

In place of a reply, he places a soft kiss right on the damp spot of your panties. With a soft groan, he places more kisses on your clothed cunt. Both of his hands come up to the band of your panties and pulls it up until it’s tight against the lips of your pussy. He lathes his tongue across your slit, leaving a wet kiss on the outline of your clit.

Your legs twitch and spasm as he continues to slowly lick and kiss your pussy through your underwear.

“Please, sir,” you moan as he sucks your clit a little harder, eyes glinting wickedly up at you, “can I take them off?”

He pulls back with a low laugh, “No, gonna get these cute panties soaked before anything else happens.”

You watch as his hand reaches down to readjust his bulge in his slacks, making your mouth water and head dizzy.

“Save it for later,” he grins at you, hand coming down suddenly to spank across your wet underwear making you buck up with a whine.

“So responsive,” he muses, mouth going back to his slow torment on your needy cunt.

He keeps you there, legs spread before finally putting them over his shoulders, face buried against your panties as he licks and sucks your pussy through the cloth. It feels like forever when he finally pulls away, hands going to the band of your underwear and tugging them off. He watches greedily as your cunt is bared, clear strings of slick clinging to the gusset of your panties as he pulls them away from your pussy lips.

At seeing how wet you are, he wastes no time in slipping the soaked clothing off your legs and tucks them in his pocket. With a growl, he shoves his face against your pussy making you both moan.

“Taste so good,” he pulls away to spit on your pulsing clit, “been wanting to taste your pretty little cunt since the beginning of the semester.”

“Oh god,” you gasp, hands letting go of your skirt to tangle in his hair, “could’ve had it then.”

“Slut,” he rumbles with delight, “don’t worry, gonna give you what we both want.”

He presses suckling kisses to your pussy lips before fluttering his tongue against your drippy hole. With a sigh, he pushes his thick tongue into your soaked cunt, eagerly fucking his tongue in and out until you’re squirming against his mouth.

His hands grip your thighs harshly, bruises forming under his fingertips as he keep you in place.

“O-oh, so good,” you keen, hands tugging on his hair making him groan and nuzzle deeper into your folds, nose bumping and grinding against your swollen clit.

You hump his mouth, feeling your orgasm ramp higher and higher as that coil tightens in your belly.

“I’m close, Professor.”

Your moan ends on a pathetic whine as he pulls completely away from eating you out.

“That won’t do,” his mouth and chin are shiny with your slick making you go hot all over, “got to work for that extra credit, honey.”

He stands up, unbuckling his belt and sliding his slacks down until he can pull his hard cock out. He strokes the shaft, pulling back the foreskin so you can see the precum drip from his fat tip down his knuckles. He manhandles you to lay down on the sofa, one leg thrown over the back with the other dangling off the edge of the cushions.

He slaps your clit with his cock, rocking back and forth so the tip drags through your slick folds getting him wet. You reach down to spread open your cunt, making it easier for Leon to rut against your pussy lips and the hood of your clit.

“Please,” your hips arch up into his frotting, “want it so much.”

“Let me go find a condom, sweet thing,” he goes to get up but your nails sink into his chest through his dress shirt.

“I’m on the pill,” you bite your lip out of nervousness, “I mean you can if you want, but I’m—“

“I’m not going to argue,” he chuckles, slapping your cunt with his dick, “not everyday I get to raw a hot little pussy.”

You whine, spine bowing as you try to press your sopping wet cunt against his dick, “Please, I’m so empty.”

He groans and finally quits teasing, pressing the head of his dick into your clenching hole. Your eyes roll back as he keeps rocking his dick deeper and deeper into your fluttering walls.

He laughs down at you, “Mmm yeah, this pretty pussy is sucking me in so good. Such a snug fit for me.”

You feel like your cunt is being split in half; he’s so thick and long, it has you whining constantly as he bottoms out.

“Such a good girl for me,” he presses himself down on you, body weight heavy and comforting.

You moan needily, hands gripping his shoulders, “S’deep.”

“I know,” his mocking voice is warm in your ear, “tiny pussy’s stretched out isn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, drooling as he pulls halfway out to thrust back in, grinding and rubbing all along your g-spot as his pelvis catches your pudgy clit.

“Taking me so well,” he praises making goosebumps trail down your arms, “this fat pussy’s gonna get a nice thick load, now isn’t that nice of me?”

“So nice,” you slur out, brain going fuzzy from how good Professor Kennedy’s making you feel.

He laughs again, picking up the pace to fuck into you hard and deep. One hand goes to grip the meat of your hip while the other slips down to circle and press against your sensitive clit. Your legs wrap around his waist, bare legs rubbing against his shirt sending little pulses of pleasure to your brain.

Your thighs twitch where they’re pressed against Professor Kennedy’s waist, toes starting to curl as he pounds against that spongy spot in your cunt, creating a mourning wave of pleasure. That band of arousal that has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps.

Rough fingers pinch your clit as your pussy clamps down on his cock so tight it makes him hiss in pleasure. Your blood rushes to your head so fast it makes you dizzy, spine arching as your body tries to thrash under his; a high, keening cry slips from your mouth as he keeps teasing your swollen clit, extending your orgasm til tears bead your eyes.

“Good girl, so fucking good,” he groans, “gonna make me cum.”

“Yes, please, inside Professor Kennedy, want your cum,” you plead, eyes hazy as you give him a dopey smile, “feel’s nice.”

“Yeah? God, so good. Gonna fill you up,” he growls low in his throat as he pumps his cock into your cunt half a dozen times before burying himself deep in your spasming hole, walls still milking him.

You whine up at him as he bucks his hips into you, hot spurts of jizz painting your pussy walls white. He pants to catch his breath before pulling out of you with a low sigh. His cum oozes from your hole and he pushes it back in with dark eyes. He lifts his gaze and smirks at you.

“We’ll have to meet up more often, don’t think this was enough extra credit to help out with your poor grade.”

#lipglossanon #professor!leon s kennedy #professor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #professor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #professor!leon s kennedy smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #lipglossmasterlist

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daydream-cement · 1 year

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so i was thinking about new years and loved the idea of larissa and r being each others new years kiss.

like the two of them are in an urgent meeting discussing something that had gone down with some students before christmas break, them needing to get some reports done and filed. them sipping some champagne, just for festivities. the meeting going on so long they lost track of time, only a few minutes left before midnight, realizing this one of them takes the leap and asks the other to be their new years kiss, and linger on each other’s lips longer than they should

New Years Kiss

Larissa Weems x Reader

“I can’t believe their end of semester prank was to reshuffle the entire filing room…” You sit back against the wall and lean you head back, banging your head gently against the wall to make your frustration known. Scattered around you were the files of the hundreds of Nevermore students, all needed to be put back into place.

Larissa Weems sat next to you, resorting through her file of papers, obviously frustrated with the task at hand. Students had been sent home a week ago and today, December 31st, you informed your boss that the entire hardcopy filing system has been shuffled about. Now all of student and staff information was in the correct place. Both of you had to cancel New Years plans to sit in a small back room of Nevermore Academy until it was fixed.

You kept sorting. Every once in a while you would exchange sheets of paper. You were reorganizing students and she started with reorganizing staff.

Larissa checked her watch, “I’ll be right back.”

You watched her get up and leave, but you turn your head back down to the filing job at hand. You saw Larissa Weems as an incredibly beautiful woman, but you had never expected more than friendship from her. When she returned, she was carrying a small bottle of champagne and paper cups.

“It’s almost midnight. We have officially been here for 8 hours.” She handed you a paper cup, and opened the champagne over a small garbage can in case it overflowed, “I kept this little guy in my desk for emergencies.”

Truthfully, you had only been working a couple of those hours. When you were together, sometimes your conversations would veer off into philosophy, politics, or educational dilemmas.

“We should have started drinking when we started.” You stated, holding your cup still for her to fill yours and then her own. You held your cup up to her as she stood above you, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She tapped her cup against yours, throwing hers back like a shot. Larissa took a seat back down by you. For the next few minutes, you took turns refilling each others cups and drinking.

11:58

“No New Years kiss this year.” You lean into Larissa’s shoulder, enjoying the light tingle in your skull from the alcohol.

“Who said no New Years kiss? You can kiss me.” Larissa questioned and stated, making your eyes widen. You wouldn’t object to kissing her, this was just unexpected.

11:59

“Okay. I mean, yeah sure. I-“ You were a little nervous at your automatic response, you didn’t want to seem overzealous, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kiss her.

Larissa glanced down at her phone, your eyes glanced down at the time, 11:59. Do you kiss now or-?

She leaned in first. You wondered how she was so fearless or were you just too fearful? You met her halfway, pressing your lips to hers.

You hadn’t been this close to her before. She smelled so nice. Larissa brought up a hand to your cheek. Her hands were soft too. You reached a hand out, grasping at the fabric of her jacket to keep her close.

Her mouth opened a little, you felt her tongue graze your bottom lip. You deepen the kiss a little more. It was when Larissa placed a hand on your leg that you both part slowly.

12:02

She glances down at her phone again. Its 12:02. Had your kiss really been that long? Larissa picks back up the champagne bottle, drinking some before handing the bottle to you, giving you what was left.

Larissa’s face was flush. She was embarrassed by how she behaved during your kiss. You saw the redness in her face as she pretended to busy herself with the paperwork once more.

“Thank you for that…” You say, trying not to embarrass her too much more. You turn back to your paperwork at hand.

Both of you sat much closer together now, your thighs touching. You wondered what your relationship would look like from here on out.

#larissa weems #fanfic #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #oneshot #larissa weems fluff

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foxwithapen · 1 year

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"When Kamek told me I was gonna get married, I didn't think it'd be to you, twerp."

"Surprise?" Luigi waved his hands, before immediately turning away. What was he doing? Every moment he spent in this castle made him want to leave, but he had to stay strong. For Peach. For the kingdom.

Bowser huffed, turning his back to Luigi, and nearly smacking him with his tail. Luigi hoped it was on accident. "Whatever. You stay in your side of the castle, I'll stay in mine. We won't have to deal with each other until that damn wedding."

Luigi gulped, taking a few steps away from him; he didn't want to deal with Bowser normally, and especially not when he's angry. "O-okie dokie. Can do."

"Good. I'll have servants bring you food and stuff, so don't feel the need to wander out of this area. If I happen to run into you I might not be as hospitable as I am right now."

And with that, he left, slamming the large wooden door behind him, leaving Luigi alone.

Only then did Luigi's legs give out on him.

He sunk to the floor, shaking harder than he'd ever had before. Being that close to the Koopa King before always meant trouble, and even though he knew he was as safe as he could be, protected by the peace treaty, he couldn't help but break down.

He missed his brother. He hadn't realized he'd be so lonely here. Scared yeah, maybe even bored. But the room felt so vast, with more open space than he'd ever lived in before in his life.

At least it was a nice room...yeah, Luigi would give Bowser that at least. The walls were dark and imposing, and he couldn't tell whether it was too hot or too cold. But just the bedroom alone was bigger than any house he'd ever shared with Mario.

And it was all green too. He supposed that would make sense, since Bowser's quite green as well. But the color would always be a comfort to him.

He collapsed into the bed, his fear momentarily replaced by shock as he sunk into the mattress. It had to be one of the softest things he'd ever felt in his life. If he closed his eyes, it was almost like he was laying on a cloud, instead of trapped at Bowser's castle.

Luigi rolled over, his hand brushing against the luggage that he hadn't noticed had been piled against the bed. He thought he'd had brought too many things, but in this grand of a room it didn't seem like nearly enough. At least unpacking would provide him some sort of distraction.

His crisp dress shirts and pretty dresses Peach had given him didn't take up even one fourth of the closet space. In fact, it was almost a room of its own. He supposed it made sense that things were bigger here, since Bowser was so much larger than himself, and yet it didn't make sense that things were so...ornate. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, he did see the beauty of the room, different from how Peach's castle was but intrancing in its own way.

And in that room, days seemed to melt away as he started project after project, from reorganizing his things, to changing around the decorations he could actually lift on his own, eventually even pulling out the fabric he'd brought. He'd been watching the tailors back in the Mushroom Kingdom, even occasionally asking for quick lessons when he was able to work up enough courage. They made the prettiest suits and dresses, and Luigi couldn't help but long for the ability to make fancy outfits of his own.

And now, he finally had the time to work on that goal. He had the closet space for it too.

#bowuigi #luigi #bowser #bowuigi fic #forced marriage #forced marriage au #a scene should go between this one and the last #but I was more motivated to write this one so #I'll probably move them over to ao3 eventually anyways so #oh well

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shapeshiftersvt · 2 months

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Big Update Post

Hiya, shapeshifters!

We have some announcements to make this evening.

Here’s the short of it:

The Shapeshifters website will be temporarily down this Sunday evening, March 3, 2024 at Midnight EST.

When it comes back up, you’ll find a shiny new website that is organized the same way with a couple of exceptions.

The Off-the-Rack Sale and Holographic listings will be temporarily delisted.

The Goth listings will be renamed. You will find Rainbow Constellations, Monster Mouths, and a couple of new options listed under Cosmic Horror.

The Skin Tone listings will have brand new additional color skin tone options!

The Island Time listings will also have a new option available.

The Binding 101 FAQ will be rolled into its own section in the FAQ.

There will be a brand new Events Page!

The blog will be temporarily disabled.

If you’re curious about the long of it, keep reading.

For everyone else, we appreciate your patience during this transition! Like so many other transitions, we’re delighted about where it’s going.

Website Downtime

Shapeshifters is finally moving to Shopify! We’ve done a lot of work over the past few months building a more organized, streamlined website that will be easier to access for you and update for us. On Sunday night, we’ll shut down the current website to pause orders so that we can migrate everything cleanly.

Off-the-Rack and Holographic Listings

The Off-the-Rack listings will be delisted to give us a chance to reorganize the remaining stock so we don’t accidentally double-sell anything.

The Holographic listings will be delisted while we assess our fabric options. Long-time customers might notice that we’ve removed Liquid Metal and Oil Slick from the Holo listings; we’re sourcing replacements and new options throughout spring. Once we know our options, we’ll either re-launch the Holo listings, or move the currently available fabric Prism to another home so it won’t be all alone anymore.

If you’ve been eyeing either Prism or an Off-the-Rack, buy it before Sunday if you can!

Expanded Skin Tone Range

We’re very excited to announce three new skin tone options will be available after the website migration: Pine, Chestnut, and Laurel! Pine is a pale shade, while Chestnut and Laurel are both on the darker end of the spectrum.

And, the new and improved Skin Tone listings will be the perfect place to see the results of our latest photoshoot! We’re excited for y’all to get to see these photos around the site and on the listings. We sought out models of color with darker skintones both to fill a gap in the modeled photos in our listings, and to show off our darker skin tones. All of our models were amazing, our photographer was great, and the photos are fantastic! We really leaned into the cozy Vermont vibes for this one.

Events Page

We’re going to events again! Hooray!

And we’re not just going to conventions and conferences and Pride festivals. We’re also talking queer markets, fashion shows, and binder sewing workshops!

That’s right, some lucky folks in the New England area will have the opportunity to take an in-person class with Eli, our head tailor and the developer of our DIY Binder Sewing Kits. They will walk you, step-by-step, through sewing your own custom-sized binder and help you troubleshoot along the way. These workshops are designed for sewists of any level and do not require you to own a sewing machine.

If you’d like to host a sewing workshop or would like to have us at any other event, educational, celebratory, fashionable or otherwise, please contact us!

Thanks once again for bearing with us during this transition and we can’t wait for you all to see the new site!

#chest binders #shapeshifters #events #pride #skin tone chest binders #sewing workshops #how to sew binders

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dawnoftime22 · 9 hours

Text

all the things I shouldn't.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 9

Chapter Warnings: sleeping problems, this chapter somehow contains going to sleep three times in detail and R raving over sea animals (aka me writing and raving about sea animals) half not proofread

Summary: After dealing with the appearance of a memory you once thought had been long gone once ago, you get a message from the redhead, asking to go out once more.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 6.3k

Category: Fluff! (teensy hurt/comfort)

A/N: I feel like I'm making these way too long? but the chapter would feel like it has holes without it having the small little details so :') just tuck yourself in cozily and enjoy<3

Series Playlist

| Started on 13/04/2024, 1:39 PM |

| Finished on 29/04/2024, 12:26 AM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 8

"take the risk. who knows what lies ahead of your path?"

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

-- a week later...

The bedroom was bright from the open windows, air flowing in naturally through the space. It was quiet, other than from the distant gentle snoring of Kate sleeping in the living room, your door being mindlessly open.

You were not in bed, but reorganizing your closet, having gotten home from the mall with Kate and some new clothes. The gentle fabric of each shirt brushed against your skin with your touch.

There were music playing in your ears, making you nod your head slightly to the beat and hum, making sure not to sing too loud or something so you wouldn't wake up the sleeping archer.

You were about to finish up, but a box in the corner of your vision catches your eye. Just above all the clothes.

It had been sitting there for days, yet you somehow hadn't noticed until now. It was brought with you when you arrived, but you didn't put much thought to it, thinking it was just your old belongings.

Upon closer inspection with a step forward, you knew it wasn't the box you were supposed to grab. You push open the closet door further, then push yourself on your tip-toes to reach it. With the pull of your fingers, it soon goes into your hold.

The top was slightly dusty, so you brush it off with your hand, about to open it, but then taking a pause to sneeze. Your face contorts into a slight grimace as your eyes trail up, tilting your head so you can peek to see if Kate woke up.

The only movement visible was Lucky shifting slightly in his own sleep, while Kate had her arm hanging off the side of the couch, Lucky's fur just tickling her hand. She was still asleep.

With a soft sigh of relief, you look back down on the box. There was nothing written down on it anywhere, so it only made your curiosity grow.

You walk to your bed, opting to place it on there. It made sounds of clunking and was just a teensy bit heavy. When your fingertips gently grasp the lid, you hesitate, but go in for the dive anyway.

Once it was opened, your eyes widen slightly, and it confirmed your suspicions of it not being yours. Or...half yours. Inside, held stacks of custom CDs, writing, and paper on the cases and within them. Some, not even having anything but a case.

Your heart raced as you read some of the writing, but you try your best to ignore it. Beside all the CDs sat an old portable player, one that was yours. Technically you didn't get the wrong box, but you were supposed to only grab the cd player.

A flicker of your eyes makes you stare at the discs once more. It was nearly getting to your nerves with how much she was following you around. But...something about it only wanted you to linger.

You shouldn't play one.

Yet, you couldn't help but grab one of the cases and open it. The writing was on the disc for this one. Blue marker on the front with a smiley face. It wrote, 'Roadtrips!' and your initial with Wanda. The disc had rainbow rays, reflecting back light from whichever way you angled it.

The lid of the player opens with a bit of fiddling, and you insert the CD. With the earphones plugged in and placed in your ear, you click play.

...Nothing.

You check the player, flipping it and clicking play again.

Ah, the batteries. Too bad, you should just turn around now by putting it back and never touch the box again. Yes? No, instead your eyes catch exactly two batteries, hiding between the cds and the wall of the box.

The world was tempting and teasing you, its almost making you crazy. Your hand reaches in and grabbed them to then place them into the battery compartment.

A breath goes out from your lips, your fingertip atop the button before you press on it. The white noise and the sound of the disc moving quietly sounded out.

As the starting melody played, it was like a knife first poked at your chest, then utterly, slowly, goes in to stab your heart.

This one, you would sing at the top of your lungs with her while you were in the car, going anywhere in the world. Just you, and her, and nothing else mattered. God, you missed those moments.

Your fingertips traced the others, moving them with a few noises as it hit against one another. The others, baking...dancing, some albums...and just playlists of songs you both loved, mixed together. What were you doing?

Quickly, you pull out your earphones, making it fall down to the bed. The music was now distant, quiet. But realizing you could still even hear it, you pause it.

A breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lungs. You shouldn't have done that. When you heard some sounds from the living room, you try to be fast with putting everything back in the box except for the player.

But the movement was only Lucky, your eyes watching him pad off to his bowls in the view of the doorway.

Your eyes falter of any panic and your shoulders relax as you went to store the box of memories back in the closet.

A few steps took you to your door, leaning yourself against the frame to peek and see if Kate was still sleeping. She was indeed. You supposed she had gotten tired, either from laughing, joking and simply having fun, or she was exhausted from doing her archery practices and going out with you.

Nonetheless, you check the time, having noticed the windows showing the sky going into a gradient, and the clouds evaporating.

It was 7:15 PM. You nibbled on your lip as you thought it over. You'll deal with everything else later. The task of organizing of your closet was finished anyway.

You close the bedroom door with a gentle shut, turning back around to face your room and go fall into the comfort of your bed.

As time went by, a yawn from you passes with it, and you switched your position all you could, picking up a book, or even tried to focus on your phone, but then you give up on everything and just decided to simply lay against the soft mattress.

Soon enough, your eyes grow heavy, and your vision grew darker. The daylight was also starting to fade away, and it added further to the luring sleepiness. Your fingers curled up and you closed your eyes, slowly falling into deep sleep.

As you were unaware, the sleep that was expected to be a few minutes of a nap, turns to hours, and you didn't even get to see the moon for the day.

Sometime later, you open your eyes in a half-awake state, noticing it was still daytime. Well, to you. It was actually now morning rather than afternoon as you checked your phone. A sigh leaves you.

Your eyes linger on your closed bedroom door. You only curled up further. You don't want to get up yet.

No one had texted, called, or gone in your room, so what's the point? Your tired eyes close once more as your breathing stayed soft, slowly going back to sleep while the house was quiet.

The hand of the clock moves slowly, yet the hours went like nothing as your mind rested.

"Y/N. Hey, you have to wake up." A gentle voice said next to you as you felt a shake on your shoulder. You groan, getting your peaceful time disturbed.

Kate watched as your splayed out arms moved as you shifted yourself to see her for a split second, your eyes barely open.

"What time is it...?" You murmured, the words barely even making sense to Kate, but to you it did.

"What?" She asked softly, confusion obvious in her voice while you yawned, turning to rest your cheek on the bed. She notices the sleepiness in your eyes when your face appears in her view.

"What time...is it?" You repeated slowly, trying to be clearer and raise your volume just a tad more. Your eyelids fell back to a close, too. Kate raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms as her concern grows.

"Its eleven. Come on, wake up, shower." She gestured with her hands, but you couldn't even see her. You made a sound that only convinced Kate it was going to take her more than that to get you to wake up or even get out of bed.

When she waited for a few seconds and you didn't answer or move, she offers with something that could hold more interest. "I'll make some waffles for you. You want some?"

Still, quietness came from you. You've gone back to sleep.

Gently, Kate reaches out and places her hand on your shoulder once more. "Hey." She swipes her thumb in a gentle motion, not wanting you to get mad at her for bothering you or something.

She then sighed softly.

Kate's eyes roam around the room, trying to see what could have possibly made you like this, but found nothing. Maybe you really were just tired. But the afternoon time staring back at her on your clock told her the chance of it being the latter, was starting to go down.

"If you don't get up, you're gonna lose the chance to have some tasty waffles." She says melodically as she leaned one hand on your bed. Her constant talking and gentle movements had you rousing from your sleep, and with the smallest step forward of getting you up, her concerns went lighter, but it was still there.

"...Did you get more messages?" She asked, her tone more serious now. You had a feeling if you didn't answer this time, she might just drag you all the way to the kitchen.

Kate knew about the countless messages from the brunette you once knew. The many times she's said to just block the contact were millions, but you didn't have it in you to lose the connection completely.

You roll over to lay on your back, your arms above your head as you blinked slowly, taking in a breath to come up with a reply. She waited patiently, although her eyebrows were furrowed.

"No, it's..." You trail off quietly with a sigh, your voice groggy from the morning. Kate pauses her thumb's movemensts on your shoulder, and you look at her more properly.

"I don't wanna get up." You go for a half lie. Kate thinks it over. Technically, if she needed to, she could bring a plate to you as you sat in bed, but that would only encourage you to stay in bed further on.

She also didn't want to force anything out of you, so she treaded carefully, but it didn't stop her from her determination to at least pull you out of this thing you entrapped yourself in. Even if its only been a few hours.

"Well, you're gonna have to. Unless you want me to carry you to sit at the dining table." She said plainly, but you didn't budge. The thought to even move slightly felt like a work on your energy.

Kate then slowly took steps backwards, getting farther away from you, and instead closer to the door. "Okay, I'm gonna have waffles without you! The sweet, soft, and crunchy ones that basically melt in your mouth!" She said, slowly turning around.

You shouldn't stay in bed.

And you decided you wouldn't.

"No, wait!" Your voice finally comes out slightly higher in volume than the barely audible one, but with a soft tone.

Kate turns around and raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. You, on the other hand, pouted.

"...Don't finish without me." You whispered now, and Kate just about heard it, but it still had her smile widening. Her eyes watch you deflate on the bed before you push yourself up with your hands and slowly getting out of bed.

She walks to the kitchen with you following behind her, your fatigue visible within your movements. You hear Lucky's collar clinking gently that came with the brush of his body spinning around your legs.

Kate already had the meals ready, her hands only holding the drinks to place on the dining table. Your hand met Lucky's head for a moment before you join Kate at the table, looking to see what she had.

The plates held waffles with some fruits on the side. At the mere sight, your stomach was already grumbling.

You took your seat, getting comfortable. The plastic chair didn't help much with the ache in your body from sleeping in bed for too long, but the atmosphere of how the sunlight was gently going through the windows while the birds outside made shadows put up a peaceful feeling.

"Here," she hands you a fork, and you took it, about to dig in your meal, but your eyes brightened when you realize she had gotten another fork than only keeping a single one at her apartment, your head turning to look at her.

"Yeah, I got another fork, all your problems are solved now, I know." She said playfully, lightly nudging your shoulder. You giggle, starting on your waffle.

The breakfast-- Or brunch, as it was afternoon, goes smoothly with comforting quietness. You were finishing the last bite of your toast as you had your cheek rested on your other hand, your elbow on the table.

Kate turns off her phone, setting it aside to put her focus on you. She leaned closer to the dining table, looking at you closely.

"Are you sure you've been okay?" She asked gently, scraping the last of her waffle and putting it in her mouth, pulling you out of your spaced out state.

You nod, taking in a breath before responding. "Yeah, it's just a lot on my mind." The words came out like a breath, your eyes fixed on the table as you think it over.

"Well, it won't hurt to share. Come on." She folds her arms, pushing her empty plate forward gently as she waited for you to continue.

The crows ledged on another building within the view of the window cawed, and you stared at it, trying to come up with words while you did so.

"I...met someone," you said quietly, your eyes slowly meeting hers. You decided to give her the more positive news first, not wanting to mention the CDs you found just yet. Kate raises an eyebrow, curious as to it being someone new, or someone the two of you knew.

"Who?" She asked, eager due to your face lightly coming with a reddish tint. If she didn't focus much on your face for the sake of the conversation, she would've thought it was the sunlight.

"She was the person I bumped into when I was on a walk with Lucky...and at the airport," you said slowly and quietly, analyzing the look on Kate's face to then flick your gaze away. She stayed silent as she listened on to you, her mind searching for anything especially significant.

"Her name is Nat. She's...nice..." You shrugged, trying to play it cool as Kate slowly smiled. If you didn't look away, you might've thought to have to comment she looked like the cheshire cat from alice in the wonderland.

Not wanting to share much more with her, knowing she might get too excited, you only said, "And she's cool." You then purse your lips, your eyes going down to your plate.

"Cool? Just cool?" A smug grin replaced the smile growing on her face, but she didn't push further, already satisfied that you were still somewhat open to other people.

"Well, if that's all you're going to say, okay, but I need to know more later." She tilted her head, playing around with her fork and pushing the bit of syrup on her plate.

You nibble on your lips, thinking if you should give her the information you found out earlier, but you also wouldn't want to see it every times you opened the closet.

"I also found a box from Wanda's house I accidentally brought," you started, nearly not wanting to say it as Kate's eyes flickered to you, her form perking up slightly to sit properly. Your eyes flashed a moment of pain at the mention of her name, but it faded away.

"A box?" Her face scrunches up in confusion, trying to remember the day she helped you grab your things out from the car. There was a single box she remembered picking up, but she was unsure if it was the one you were talking about.

She inhales gently, and when you didn't continue, she asked. "What'd it have?" Her face held concern, preparing herself for whatever could be coming next.

"CDs. They're custom...I don't know what to do with them." You let out a gently, and quiet sigh. That mostly explains why you've been in bed for so long. Kate placed her fork back down, looking at you.

"Well, if you don't want them, we can sell them." She suggested with a gesture of her hand, trying to help you get rid of them.

"Or, if they have good songs, give some to me." She said plainly with a shrug, a small smile on her face. You laugh softly, and she thanked everything that you were at least somewhat fine...for now.

"Yeah, it's a good idea. And...I don't know about you holding my ex's old CDs." You narrowed your eyes, to which Kate's eyes widens.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to!" She shook her head and moved her hands back and forth, adding to her expression, and you only giggled.

"I'm kidding, you can have some, but just don't play it in front of me." Kate's face and posture relaxes, and a smile wasbon your face as you pushed your chair back and grabbed your plate, going to the kitchen to place it in the sink.

She followed behind you, doing the dishes with you. The rest of the day went by peacefully, laughs shared as the two of you taught Lucky some new tricks.

You've also put up the CDs in a store somewhere with Kate's help, some of them lended to her when she found some of her favorites.

Then days, weeks, turn into months later, filled with small teary nights, movie nights with ice cream, meetups with...the redhead here and there, and your world slowly brightening.

As of late, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the redhead, the memories shared with her that was somehow growing rather than stopping at all.

In a cafe, the two of you sat, enjoying each other's company as the smell of coffee and baked sweets filled the air. You can see her glancing over every now and then, taking in the sight of your profile.

Oftentimes you would end up accidentally looking into her eyes a little too long within the car, and the both of you catch it, but you never took it too far than that, or even perceived it as actual feelings.

At the beach, a lake. She had the same color of eyes as her, her eyes luminescent from the glowing sun. But hers...hers are different. They hold a greener look with a tinge more brown at the iris, and oh, so soft.

The night was quiet other than the tapping of the water somewhere in the bathroom and the humming of the AC. You didn't feel a sense of sleepiness. Really, you just wanted to stare at the darkness.

The comforter around you kept you warm, and the position you were in was as comfortable as you could get. You tried putting your hand out to the edge of the bed, letting it rest hung over the side...you probably shouldn't do that.

As you realize you were too close to the edge, you exhaled slowly and pulled your hand closer to your body once more, moving yourself to the middle of the bed.

Your eyes stare at your phone, the screen facing down.

You shouldn't.

But you picked it up anyway.

Your fingers found the messages to Nat, your eyes seeing the old messages as you searched your thoughts for some words.

Are you still up?

You sent the message with a bite on your lower lip, leaving a mark. Thinking you shouldn't have sent a message so late in the night, you gripped your phone tighter and decide to leave it on the bedside table, nearly regretting disturbing her.

But then your phone lights up on the nightstand beside you, and your eyes widen in surprise, quickly going to grab it.

Yeah. Why?

I can't sleep, and I'm bored :(

Well, I have good news for you.

good news?

Are you free tomorrow?

I think so

Do you wanna go to an aquarium with me? :)

Your eyes blinked at the screen for a moment, trying to make sense if your sleepiness invaded your brain and you imagined it or if it was actually real.

Then, after a few seconds of registering it and deciding, you quickly type your response, a smile on your face.

YES?!?

Now, go to sleep.

okay, okay

you too.

Now, you almost couldn't sleep at all, your last drops of energy fueled by the excitement for tomorrow.

But it soon dies down, and with no warning as you close your eyes once more, you fell asleep easily. The room was quiet, and if you were still conscious, you'd notice it would only be white noise and your gentle breathing.

You slept peacefully, Kate doing the same in the other room with Lucky. The room grew in coldness with the night, causing you to curl within your sleep. Slowly, the moon fades away and the sun starts to rise.

The stir of your body and waking up was fatigued and hazy, a big yawn coming from you as you rolled on your back. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before your eyes widen with a realization dawning on you, the memory of last night reminding you of the aquarium.

You jump slightly to a sitting position, and then regret it at the fast pace, making you dizzy. You absolutely did not let the blood in your brain flow back naturally.

After gently shaking off the daze and letting it fade away with a couple of blinks, you sit for a few seconds before now slowly moving to get out of bed.

You followed your morning routine, showering and everything, but this time with excitement filled in your veins. You forgot you even struggled to sleep last night. Some messages were exchanged with the redhead for the plan of how you'll get to the aquarium, and you agreed on her picking you up.

Kate was already out the house, having told you the day before that she was visiting a friend and possibly even doing a sleepover. She did invite you, but you weren't interested.

As you start to put on your shoes, your phone dings, and your hand goes to grab it, turning it over so the screen was visible. The notification shows a message from Nat.

Hey, I'm in front of the apartment.

Your eyes widen and you finish up quickly, standing up to open the door. The light outside hits you, making your eyes squint, but it spots the black car pulled up near the side of the road when you went out the apartment.

You wave at her, and the corner of her lip raises up as she rolls the window down, sliding her sunglasses down to look at you more clearer.

"You ready to go?" She nodded towards you and you mirror her movement, being more than ready to go to the aquarium.

Nat's eyes look over your appearance for a moment. She was about to close the window but then remembered to ask, "And you got everything?" Her head turned to look at you more.

"Yup." You nodded once more as you went to round the car from the front and sit in the passenger seat. She had closed the window back up now, glancing at you to make sure you had your seatbelt on.

"Seatbelt," she murmured, putting the car in drive. You smiled and grabbed the seatbelt, clicking it in for your safety.

Her eyes focus back on the road once she saw you safe and comfortable in the seat, her hands firmly on the steering wheel as she made her way through traffic and turns on the road to get to the destination.

The drive was quiet, filled with gentle music. You can see the sunlight casting the warmest glow over everything in the car, including her striking orange hair that honestly only seemed soft now.

When you arrived, she opened the door for you right as your fingertips barely even brushed against the car door handle.

Getting in was easy, the line not being awfully long seeing as it's not their busiest day of the week. They gave free packets of yogurts to each ticket holder, but you already had yours open, while Nat was saving it for later.

Her hand held a camera, and you noticed it in the corner of your vision, your lips tugging up as you realize she was reviving the old hobby she had. She took pictures and videos of the sea animals, while also sneaking in some memories of you.

You start walking through the big spaces. In the corner of the room, held a big map of the entire aquarium, from sea animals that live in the colder regions, a shark zone, the exotic section, and the small fishes.

There was an ongoing show of the otters, the staff member in the enclosure feeding them fishes and having them do tricks as they excitedly move to snatch their food or swim in the water.

They talk about facts of the otters through the segment, making many other kids and people in the room beside the two of you captured in the moment.

After that was done, you were headed to the more colder region first, seals sitting on the right side while on the left held bunches of adorable penguins.

Nat smiled gently at you, her eyes all focused on your beaming face instead of the penguins.

"Nat, look!" You gently shook her shoulders, making her turn her attention to the penguins more properly, her eyes watching as they jumped and swam, while others waddled.

"Yeah, they're adorable." Just like you. That's what she wanted to say. Just like you, the penguins were adorable. But she only chuckled softly as you gently leaned into her from the side.

The footsteps and sounds of talking echoed through each hall and room with the gentle sound of some water going down a made up waterfall.

You gasped as you saw the sharks, swimming around gracefully. They were swift with their tails moving back and forth gently.

Black tip reef sharks, nurse sharks, lemon sharks...it held most of the more known ones, but nonetheless, you were more than happy to see them.

Nat kept you close, maybe even a little protectively as you both looked through the shark zone, watching as some of them circle around in their tanks until you make it to the end of the area.

"Whoa..." You slowly walked over to the stingrays, where you can watch them from above. At least, the small baby stingrays. The bigger ones were on the sides, accompanied with some turtles.

Nat was also admiring them, seeing how the stingrays moved across the floor and slid on the rocks. Some were even camouflaged within the sand, while others hid within plantation.

You were now in the more exotic section, and Nat had to hold back a laugh when she sees you getting scared at the sight of a huge japanese crab, although she was smiling, she also would not want it near her either.

The neon lights inquired with each animal of their color, the jellyfish being a pinkish purple as it majestically floated around in the dim lighting. It was aglowed, within a circle tank.

Sometime in the big trip of exploring the aquarium, you and Nat went to the diner that was marked on the map, grabbing something to eat and drink so you wouldn't get tired.

Afterwards, your journey continues, and Nat had to change her camera's battery to her backup one, thankfully having remembered to bring it.

You were seeing the smaller tanks now, seahorses, baby crabs, shrimps and starfishes on the entire wall. Each held their names and types, giving facts of what exactly they are.

"That one looks like you." You point at a orange starfish, sitting on the rocks. It nearly seemed like it was hiding. She was expecting a cool looking fish or a shrimp, but when she follows where you were looking and your pointed finger, she gasped and lightly slapped your shoulder.

"No, it does not!" She exclaims, staring at you. You giggled, finding her reaction to be amusing.

"The hair, come on." You gestured towards the orange starfish then to her, your eyebrows raising in question for her agreement, while hers raised in a challenge.

"Just 'cause it's orange?" Her voice was nearly more higher pitched, but her face was scrunched up in utter disbelief.

The moment passes by lightly with a few more laughs and distractions of the other fishes showing off their unique colors.

You pass by some eels too, octopuses, and a giant gar that shocked you. You followed it while its long body swam forward, and Nat shook her head gently.

Soon enough, you reach to the end of the aquarium, the end of the journey a little bit saddening, but the amount of things the place held was satisfying. Nat had just the right amount of batteries for the entire trip, too.

There was a souvenir shop at the end, as always. Within it had keychains, plushies, and some snacks available to take home. You had to run your finger through some of the plushies. They seemed to fluffy and soft not to touch.

Nat had bought you a keychain of a mini plush orca, and your heart melted at her memory of remembering your first proper meetup.

Outside, the sky was orange, the clouds dissolving as the both of you made your way back to her car. You had really been in there for that long?

Nat gets in the car with you, setting her camera safely in the center console. Your eyes follow her movement, and you went to reach for it.

"No," she gently pushes your hand away while at the same time, wearing her seatbelt, and you pull your hand back to your body with a pout.

"You'll be able to go through it later." Her lips ghosted the smallest hint of a smile, and you tilt your head in curiosity, but you didn't question it as she started driving. Maybe her battery had died entirely? But you had seen her turn it off earlier with some energy still left.

After minutes upon minutes of staring out the window, watching the skies fade deeper into darkness, the car soon arrives to Kate's apartment once more.

You stood in front of the door as Nat waited for you, making sure your surroundings were safe so she knew you went inside intact.

"Ah..." You sighed gently as you look through your pockets, trying to find the house keys. Nat curiously looked to you, her expression growing with concern.

"I...forgot to bring my keys." The words were said quietly as you turned back to her. She had made sure you had everything before the two of you went too, but none of her face had any judgement.

"You don't hide a spare one anywhere?" She asked gently, looking towards the carpet in front of the door or any other places that could have the key. You purse your lips, putting your hands in the pockets.

"My keys are the spare keys." Your shoulders go down in defeat, now your mind definitely remembering how empty your pockets felt aside from your phone.

Nat paused and stepped back in front of you, her quietness being in thought while her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well...isn't Kate home?" She knew it was a low chance with how you had not reached for your phone at all, and the apartment being dark.

"No, she's at a friend's..." You shook your head, biting your bottom lip gently as you stared off at her car with the engine on behind her.

"...Do you want to hang out at my place until we can grab the keys or when she comes back?" She asks nearly hesitantly, yet in very high hopes that you'll accept, especially not wanting you to be alone or anything.

"Uh...well, I mean..." You stutter slightly for a moment, your eyes meeting hers as you thought over. A gentle cold breeze flowed against your body from the night air, causing you to shiver.

Then, you took a breath in, "I don't really have any other choice, so, if it's okay with you, yeah." Nat's eyes soften and she nods, turning to her car once more, making sure you were following behind her.

The car doors close with a gentle shut, and you settle down in the seat once more, getting comfortable as you didn't know where or how far her place was.

She turns down the AC, having noticed your shivers, and also turned up the gentle music so it wasn't entirely silent.

Your eyes grew heavy though anyway as you rested your head against the backrest, and the streetlights that passed by was starting to blur and fade into what was bothering, to now something that lured you to sleep.

The red light makes her stop the car for a moment. When she looked over to you, her eyebrows raise, but she wasn't surprised.

She gazed at your sleeping form, her eyes trailing over every feature your face held. The red light and the streetlights even added on to your face.

She shouldn't stare. Especially not when you were asleep. What if you had woken up? When the light turns green, she continues driving, shifting in her seat slightly to gather herself together.

It wasn't actually much of a long drive, only 20 minutes or so until she arrived to her place. Nat unclicks her seatbelt and took a deep breath, looking over to you once more.

She doesn't want to pick you up or anything, knowing all too well it might just be too out of your comfort zone together. Instead, she goes to reach her hand out and gently shake your shoulder.

"Hey," she whispered softly, making you slowly stir in your sleep before waking up, a small noise coming from you. You look at her in a haze of sleep, and she smiled softly.

"We're here," she unclicks your seatbelt for you before turning down the music so it didn't bother you, but being patient for your response.

"Sorry I fell asleep." You whispered, your voice quiet and husky from your rest. She shook her head, dismissing your apology as she turns off the car.

"It's fine. You were tired." She said gently with a reassuring look before opening her car door and going out to get your door for you.

When she did, she also helped you out, not wanting you to trip or anything within your sleepiness. With you out, the car door closes.

You yawned softly and closed it with your hand while Nat grabbed her keys out from her pockets.

The lamppost's light illuminated your faces, the streetsign just barely even showing 'Sixth Avenue'.

"You know, you do really look like that starfish." You said quietly, blinking away sleep as you took in the streets of her place, to then your eyes landing back to her.

"Nope." She said softly with a gentle pop of her lips and a shake of her head, going through her keys to find the one for her apartment.

"Mmhm." You hummed and nodded, urging her to agree whilst you took some steps and leaned forward. She leaned back slightly, but paused her movements.

Her hand then falls, the keys falling back all over on the keyring but still between her fingers. She turns to you, her eyes searching your face.

She takes a deep breath, "Well, I think we can both agree on one thing." She said in a whisper, but even if she spoke in a low volume, the quiet area had your voices being audible. Even the noise of the gentle wind or a loose poster hitting something being hearable.

Your eyebrows raise in question for her to continue. You stood up more properly with your brain fully waking up, but now you saw how close you were.

"That our eyes see the same thing." She said, taking a step forward. Your breaths could be seen from the cold air, and you felt her warmth, making your cheeks flush just slightly.

"...And that is?" your words were quiet under your breath, almost not even audible as you gazed at her with your heartrate going fast as if you were in a high speed chase.

Her eyebrows furrow as she searches a word in her mind for an answer to the feelings swirling in her. She found a simple, obvious one, but pushed the word away.

She decides on "...Something," As her lips were just a whisper away from yours. You shouldn't lean in closer...it was too soon. But why shouldn't you anyway?

end of chapter 9. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 8

------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @slutforabbyanderson @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @animealways @may-z3 @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @natsbiggestfan1 @fawnedolly @blacklightsposts @canvascoloredin @autorasexy @taliiiaasteria @wandanatlov3r @glorioushamsterqueen @shaniaauld03

#🥀 dawn’s collection #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

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attex · 3 days

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You think fp and lttm have some self soothing behaviors?

i have been regularly thinking of answetring this ask (it was sent 3 months ago.) but i kept fucking forgetting. i think they do tbh but theyre akin to how they move around their puppets by default, yknow how some people move their hands when talking its like that for their Thinking in a way. it can be like when someones mumbling/talking to themselves cuz theyre really lost in thought or something. (insert joke about italians here) this applies to every iterator with a functional connected puppet...

this is just advanced headcanoning btw, read more cuz its kinda long and not formatted well

for the cringe siblings though i headcanon five pebbles would be touching his robe fabric a lot (especially post-rivulet where hes more concentrated on his own puppet and tries to use it more to ground himself to his own body), he does that out of stress usually as another little external representation of his emotions- i imagine a lot of the structure straight up moves and has a lot of its parts basically shifting and wiggling around, its more involuntary but i think pebbles moves and bundles up his cables that are normally used for local data transferring. he doesn't have much to reorganize within him internally a lot of the time (anymore...) so he basically moves his devices for it for the sake of the sensation of having/doing some sort of action

i think moon sometimes gently rocks her puppet back and forth when under-stimulated. though she usually lands back to staying very still (she does this before her collapse too anyway, she meditates in a way have you seen how she moves her puppet to the middle of her chamber and closes her eyes and has her halo move gently etc. AHHHHH its so cuteeee) also i draw her with hair like wires so um :) she braids them sometimes or caresses them. shes much more disconnected from her entire body so its Something to do at least. she will hold and look at the pearls or other items that creatures end up bringing to her also <3 post-rivulet she gets a lot to do with her structure. she very often rumbles parts of her to hum sounds and such, she does this with her puppet too but its more akin to humming a melody for the puppet lol. while every iterator can has a near-constant background hum and noise caused by many things, moon explicitly alters her internal humming to match external things she is experiencing- (unlike other iterators who don't usually have their internal "rhythm" match their external environment as well) i believe she developed this habit to be more in tune with her environmental location as it helped with not causing as much harmful interference to all that is around her (she has an older, not as performant/optimized can so she needed to adjust to function better), its beneficial for her workings too lol! her organic parts do need to be in tune with the life surrounding her to be able to keep stable.

#ask #hexatxt #Anonymous #rain world #cs #musing

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violetsandfluff · 2 years

Text

Hide and Seek

just a long, fluffy blurb about harry and the reader playing hide and seek in the sheets.

Harry hated seeing you sad or upset in any way. He always tasked himself with cheering you up. Sometimes that consisted of watching your favorite movie or having your favorite dinner, other times it meant lying in bed and talking for hours on end. Whatever it was, he was always more than willing to do it; anything for his baby girl.

“Wake up, baby.”

His voice entered your ears gently and you perked up at the sound of it.

“You’re home early!” you said enthusiastically. “I missed you.”

“Yeah?” he gave you a sad smile before brushing his fingers over your cheeks. “Is that what this is about?”

You looked down at your lap where you were twiddling your thumbs, and shrugged, smile fading. “It’s not your fault.”

“What’s not my fault?”

“Sometimes it seems like you’re never home,” you burst out bitterly. “I miss you. I just want to be with you.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, breathing deeply as your words sank in. “I feel like that, too,” he said reluctantly, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “‘M so sorry about that, love.”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted, placing your dominant hand on his chest. “You even came home early.”

Guilt swelled in Harry’s gut. Coming home before sunset should be a routine thing. You often waited up until midnight until he got home and showered, unable to sleep without him. He blamed it on his management team, but the pang in his heart told him that he was partially to blame, too.

He put one large hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you close. He rocked you side to side in silence until his low voice broke the silence. “‘M so sorry, love. What can I do?”

“What do you mean?” You adjusted your head so you could see his face. Your eyes pricked with ears as they examined the defeat on his face.

“I’ll see if they can slow down my schedule,” he thought aloud, “weed out the stupid stuff. But what can I do to make it up to you?”

“I want my Harry.”

A soft smile ran over Harry’s face, creating merry dimples in his short stubble. “Okay.”

You reached up and ruffled his damp hair, causing it to stick up in all directions.

“Hey,” he protested. “That’s my hair!”

You giggled as you continued playing with his hair, messing it up adorably. He grinned, not fighting back because he secretly liked the attention.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” he asked, his smile doubling in recognition as he fingered your collar. “‘M gonna need that back.”

You nodded sheepishly. “I missed you. And it smells good,” you explained defensively.

“You can wear it,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I was only kidding.”

“How ‘bout you get some pajamas on, too?” you suggested. “You have all of those fun, soft pairs that you never wear.”

“Which ones?”

“The pink ones, the striped ones, the polka dot ones. They’re all so cute!”

Harry snorted. “Alright, which ones?”

You cocked your head to side, giving him a playfully quizical gaze. “The polka dot ones. They’re so cute on you.”

“If you insist,” he sighed in resignation, shaking his head to hide his beaming face. “C’mon, I’m not putting ‘em on alone. You’ve got cute pajamas, too.”

You followed him upstairs, to the twin dressers in your shared bedroom.

Harry began digging through everything in your pajama drawer, while you sorted neatly through his. When your fingers brushed the soft, cool fabric of his brown and blue polka dot pajamas, you removed the items covering them, replacing them perfectly.

When Harry found your striped pajamas, he tugged them roughly from the drawer, pulling out several shirts and socks with them.

“Harry,” you cried, half amusemed, half distressed as you looked at the mess on the floor. “What are you doing? I’m going to have to reorganize my whole dresser now!”

“Oh well,” he shrugged as he shook any potential wrinkles out of the patterned fabric. “I can help you, ‘s okay.”

The two of you disappeared into the bathroom to change, not wanting to close the curtains of the large window that took up the corner of your bedroom. It was seldom that Harry got home before dark, so enjoying sunlight together was a treat.

As soon as you emerged from the bathroom, you dove under the covers, giggling.

Harry poked his head under the sheets to coax you out. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he singsonged. “Baby?”

“Come find me,” you mocked in the same singsong voice. “I’m right here!”

Harry crawled under the sheets, lifting them up to find you, but you tugged them down around you, letting out a squeal of delight.

“I’m coming!” he growled good-naturedly as he climbed through the sheets, rocking the mattress with his knees. “Ready or not, here I come!”

He crept around blindly amid the crisp white sheets, trying desperately to locate you.

“Baby,” he taunted with a broad smile, cracking his blue gum, “where are you?”

Every time you caught a glimpse of him prowling around the mattress like a cheetah with crazy hair, you would giggle and crawl a different way.

“Y/N,” he called in desperation, “I’ll put my cock in you if you come here!”

His cock wasn’t what you were in the mood for tonight. Instead, you made a soft sound to help him locate you.

“The sheets!” he moaned in disgust. “They’re blinding me. They’re stuck in my mouth… what the hell?”

You could hear him struggling against the tangle of covers, kicking and cursing at them. Once he freed himself, he let out a cry of success before assuming his place as your predator again.

You went on like this for a long time, crawling in circles and switching directions until he eventually caught you.

“You stopped moving,” Harry noticed as the mattress stopped shaking. “Where are you?”

A soft giggle gave you away. Harry rushed to the corner of the bed where you were crouched. He reached his arm out and caught you around the middle, pulling you back against him.

“I found you!” he shouted triumphantly, pumping a fist up against the sheets that were drifting lazily back down to the bed. “I am the champion…”

His rambunctious victory song came to a sudden halt as he buried his profile into your neck to kiss it.

“Love you so fucking much,” he cooed between sloppy kisses. “You’re so much fun to be around.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Aww, you’re hungry. So needy all the time.”

“Shut up, y/n.”

As soon as his lips left your neck, you threw off the sheets and grabbed a pillow, whacking it gently against Harry.

“Hey, hey,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “No need to be mean now.”

“Says the guy who just chased me around in my own bed for twenty minutes,” you huffed, pouting out your bottom lip. “That was scary.”

“Mmm, I bet,” he shook his head with a lopsided grin. “A madly attractive guy with crazy-looking hair and blue raspberry gum playing with you under the sheets.”

“I never said you were hot.”

“Neither did I!” he retorted, feigning arrogance. “I used the term madly attractive.”

This earned him another blow from the pillow.

He sprawled out on the covers like a starfish, allowing himself to be pelted with pillows, smiling lazily in response. At one point, he grabbed a pillow of his own and lobbed it at you, but you got out of the way in time.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Madly attractive whatshisface with bubble gum and crazy hair needs to learn how to throw a pillow.”

“Madly attractive whatshisface is done,” Harry sighed contentedly. “I’m exhausted.”

You laid down next to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. You had a perfect view of his strong jawline since he was on his back.

“Me too,” you responded. “I wish we could do this more often. That was fun.”

“You liked that, hm?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “We’ll do it again soon, I promise.”

You stuck out your pinky and he hooked his around it, bringing the joint digits to his lips and kissing them.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he vowed. “I promise.”

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown

#Harry styles #Harry styles imagine #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles fanfic #Harry styles fic #Harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #Harry styles x reader #late night talking #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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whatgaviiformes · 6 days

Text

Fic: Grannies - part 3

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Unedited.

Summary: Gordon’s committed to the bit. The bit just happens to be an obnoxious amount of granny squares

Part 1 here | Part 2 here

Also just added to AO3

In this part: Virgil

“Your brother,” Virgil says, sinking heavily across from Scott at his work desk. The words trail… “Infuriating.” The chair was only there some of the time - mostly when more than one of them had to be on a conference call.

Scott raises an eyebrow, his typing unhindered by his younger brother suddenly resting his cheeks on the wooden desk in defeat. “And? What did Gordon do now?”

It’s of no consequence to Virgil that his big brother can tell just who’s the problem. It's obviously Gordon. They all have their little tiffs every now and then, but none of them would ever headdesk over the youngest, John's too far away for arguments to linger, and since Virgil is coming to Scott…

Virgil and Gordon work together too closely sometimes.

The interesting part is Gordon's off duty; he was called out to Eddington to spend some time on site with his marine research and would continue to be on leave for another four days.

“He leave you with a parting gift?” Scott asks. “Replaced your hair gel with Vaseline? Reorganized your paints? Switched your phone to pig latin?”

“Ugh, do not put those ideas out in the Universe,” Virgil warns, warily raising his head from his hands to glance around the villa. He doesn’t put it past Gordon to have ears around, especially those named Alan. Feeling safe that no one is hiding nearby, he swings back to Scott, his eyes narrowing as he catches sight of familiar stitching resting on the desk underneath Scott’s coffee. “You!”

Virgil clambers for the square, pushing the mug to where the desk is bare. Luckily, Scott’s mostly drunk it through and so the liquid barely swirls halfway up the side in his haste to grab for the fabric below it.

He glares at Scott.

“It’s finished.” He raises the granny square up to Scott’s eye level, his fingertips white where he holds up the coffee-stained yarn. “How is this one finished?” The confusion on Scott’s face dissipates, and Virgil notices the quirk of his smile that tells him Scott is biting the inside of his cheek to keep his expression in check. “Why are you laughing? Stop it,” he says.

Scott takes this as permission, of course, to crack a smile, and Virgil’s eyebrow twitches indignantly.

“This is about the blanket, then?” Scott calmly and gently pries his coaster from Virgil’s fingers and straightens it back on the desk, followed by the mug in its proper position. “Before you start shouting betrayal, Gordon is still a shit and equal-opportunity pest. John wove in the ends for me last time he was here.”

“John did?”

“Yes.”

Virgil deflates; the sigh deeply lodged in his chest as he squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Do you think he’d be willing to do about, oh, 200 more? And how do you know about the blanket?”

“Neither one of you are entirely subtle.”

“Gordon figured it out, didn’t he?”

Scott hesitates. Nods. “There’s really only so much you can do with them. Retaliate, or make something. Gordon knows you well enough to know you won’t discard them. So…”

“So, he already knows I’m making something. Left all of these ends unwoven on purpose? Chose the most offensive colors known to humankind, specifically to annoy me?” Virgil shakes his head, groaning. “Nevermind, I don’t need you to answer.”

“You know who he is,” Scott says with a grinning shrug. “I can’t let you disown him.”

“Pity.”

“Is that what dragged you down here all defeated?”

Virgil points a finger. “I am not defeated. I’m frustrated. And I’m not sure there’s a point to all of it if there’s no element of surprise.”

“Virg-”

“I’ve been trying for,” he checks his watch, “five hours to arrange these squares together, and nothing looks right. So what do I do? I take a break, weave in some ends, come back to it after. And after - I have more ends and still no design.”

“That sounds pretty defeated to me.”

“He wants me to go insane!”

“He wants you to embrace his chaos,” Scott amends. “Come now, Virgil. You got this. Let us help,” he encourages, and Virgil has no choice but to sigh as his brother reaches for the comm to Thunderbird Five. “John, we have a situation.”

Their brother smirks when he answers. His hair is a shade darker than usual and waving in its wet, unstyled shape, indicating that John’s only recently gotten out of the shower. He’s dressed, but hasn’t switched his glasses for contacts. “You know, that’s my line,” he responds dryly. “Good Morning, Virgil.”

It’s 3PM.

But it is the first time Virgil has had a chance to speak to John since he spent the bulk of his morning with the project at hand. Virgil usually checks in with their distant space monitor during his morning coffee, so Virgil internally scolds himself for the rude gesture he was about to make and recognizes the irritation he feels is not John’s - or even Scott’s - fault. He waves instead.

It’s easier to let Scott explain. As the oldest of them, he has a way of focusing on facts and details for emotionally charged situations. It’s one of the reasons he’s a great commander. Of course, if he’s the one emotionally charged, that’s a different story.

“Show me his stitches, again?”

Now, John however, he’s concise - often three steps ahead before he clues the rest of them in.

Scott picks up the coaster and pushes his chair back to come around the desk to give John a better view. Once Virgil spins his chair to fully face John’s hologram, Scott places a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” John tells him, matter-of-fact. “Crochet what ends you can when you join squares together. Measure everything so I can get enough fabric, and I’ll help you put a lining on it.” He says the list of instructions with the same inflection as when directing a rescue, his hands flying across the resources in front of him.

It’s not a bad idea. With a lining, the most weaving he might need to do would be ensuring all ends were on the “wrong” side of the squares.

“What about if something pokes through the spaces of the granny square?”

John raises an eyebrow at Virgil’s question. “He’ll deal. He knew what he was doing when he didn’t finish them off properly. Don’t worry, we’ll find something so obnoxiously fishy, he won’t care. I found a pattern here with anemones in little hats.”

Virgil can’t help but giggle at that, and John smiles at him brightly, his eyes larger behind the wire frames.

“I’ll keep looking,” he tells him. “We can keep workshopping ideas.”

“Thanks, Jay. Now about the arranging,” Scott says. “I have some ideas about that, Virgil, if you’re willing to show me what you have.”

Grateful, Virgil nods. “Another set of eyes would be great.”

“F-A-B! Let’s go make order out of chaos.”

#fic: grannies #gavii scribit #Gordon tracy #Virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #crafty tracys

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tj-crochets · 2 years

Text

Probably no new crafting updates today, even though I have the rainbow triangle quilt about 1/3 quilted, because my brain is unexpectedly in cleaning mode and I am going to continue cleaning and organizing for as long as this lasts lol

#the person behind the yarn #dishwasher and washing machine are both running #I've gathered up so much trash from around the house #I'm about to cook lunch (early lunch but I am hungry)#I still need to do more reorganizing of my fabric to account for quilt supplies instead of just stuffed animal supplies #but I have some ideas about how to do that #I think my brother washed the drawers that are in the fridge???#I did not do the handwashing for the dishes that need that because the sponge was kinda dirty so it's in the dishwasher #so I have that to do later and a towels/blankets load of laundry #it's raining and foggy and it's delightful

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btower3689 · 11 months

Text

Entities within the World.

This is a non exhaustive list of some of the entities that exist within the story “You are Sheol”. All of these entities are inspired by figures in myths around the world, but are not exactly the same.

Chimeras

Chimeras are inexplicable creatures who defy the natural laws of death. Chimeras do not die when killed, rather, they reorganize their cells and reanimate as a different person with the same memories. Chimeras have the ability to influence the fabric of reality. Notoriously fragile, Chimeras are known to split into separate consciousnesses when severely injured to avoid reincarnation. Chimeras are the only entities observed in creation that are skilled at absorption. There are perfect and imperfect Chimera.

Higher Gods

Higher Gods are entities which exist in dimensions tens to hundreds of layers above ours. Because these entities are so incredibly complex, powerful, and dense, Higher Gods will split their consciousness among thousands of Angels who will all collectively carry out their will. This allows Higher Gods to interact with the universe in lower dimensions without destroying the fabric of everything. Every angel within a Higher God’s pantheon is literally a piece of that God. This means that in order to witness a Higher God, every single angel from its pantheon must be observed in a single realm.

The risk with splitting your consciousness among angels like this is that angels, while extremely disciplined, also have free will and can and occasionally do seek other Gods from other pantheons to work with. Likewise , Angels are known to disagree with each other very often, and conflicts between specific Angels mean the decimation of an entire pantheon.

Lower Gods

Lower Gods can be described as Gods whose consciousness can be contained within a single entity. Lower Gods do not split their consciousness among Angels and can operate completely independently. Daemons and Angels alike can become Lower Gods with enough Energy. Lower Gods are known to do magick with humans often. Lower Gods can take Angels and Daemons from other pantheons under their ray. Lower Gods can be worshiped. Lower Gods are not to be mistake for “lesser” gods.

Collective Angels

There are some pantheons that do not follow this traditional understanding of the hierarchy of Angels, some of which may be explored at different times. Our story is mainly centered around a Pre- Abrahamic understanding of the traditional hierarchy inspired by Summaria, Zoroastrianism, Canaanites and early Judaism with a dash of Christianity; however, this pantheon can be considered *somewhat* original as it does not strictly adhere to the beliefs of these faiths. Consider it an eclectic blend of all of these things.

Every Angel looks and behaves entirely uniquely, however, they all share the quality of being highly energetic, incredibly bright burning, intensely massive, lofty entities. Both Angels and Demons present in many forms including humanoid and anthropomorphic. Angels will appear as different sexes at different times. Their truest form is inconceivable to normal Humans.

Highest orders: Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones.

Middle orders: Dominions, Virtues, Powers.

Lowest orders: Principalities, Archangels, Angels.

(These directional descriptors do not at all reference power or importance, rather consider them explanations of how close or far away from Humanity each order is, with the highest being furthest away. Archangel Jophiel, for example, commands legions of Cherubim even though they are technically in a higher order than her)

Collective Angels work as a hive mind, though they do not all have the same thoughts or opinions. Any prayers made towards The Higher God or energy given is distributed evenly among every single collective Angel.

A Nega (Pronounced Negga)

A Nega ____ can be described as the inverse function of a celestial. Every celestial has an inverse counterpart. The Negas of the 72 Angels of Creation are the 72 Angels of Destruction. Negas also carry out the wills of their God and can be considered a part of the Collective Angels.

^ This song captures the vibes of Collective Angels well

Watchers

A class of Angels that were exiled for lusting after and procreating with Humans.

Nephilim

The unholy offspring of Watchers and Humans. Giants.

Daemons

The difference between Daemons and Angels is more political than physiological. There are many reasons why an Angel may radicalize and become a Daemon, however, the most common reason is a desire to operate as an individual rather than as a collective. Along with this many Daemons are not fond of the very strict contact rules with Humans that Angels must follow, and would like to do magick with them. “Daemon” is a self proclaimed title. Because Angels and Daemons cannot accept worship, the only time they are able to accept energy from a human as their own is through magical operations and offerings. After being cut from the collective pool of energy collective Angels share, many Daemons utilized magical contracts with Humans to stay self-sufficient.

Daemons are known to have better social skills with Humans than Angels. Daemons do not have Negas. Like Angels, Daemons are free will entities and may or may not be tolerant towards Humans.

^This song captures the vibes of Daemons well.

Djinni, Fairies, Natural Spirits

Human-like entities that existed before humanity. These entities have their own beliefs and religions. All of these living creatures have free will, eat, sleep, procreate, and die.

Thank you for reading! I think in my next posts I’ll explore the main characters of the story.

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siriusly-rem-writes · 23 days

Text

Where Will We End Up? (Headcanons/Context)

In honor of the resurfacing of JATP S2 rumors, here's some context set in the WWWEU? Universe.

Warnings: mentions of absent fathers, relationships with parents, implied hostile home environment, use of Y/N, Alex is Catholic, implied homophobia, female reader (Let me know if I missed something!)

Luke Patterson

Born November 25, 1977 (13 at the start of the story)

The oldest of the group

Born and raised in Canada

Moved to LA when he was 12 for his 8th-grade year

Only child

Lives with both his parents

Has a good relationship with both but struggles to communicate with his mom more

His dad plays guitar and taught him how to play

Has ADHD

Has a slight accent

And a stutter

Started cutting the sleeves of his shirts because too much fabric bothered him

Was overstimulated on the first day of school

He bumped into Alex in the cafeteria causing both of their trays to fall down

It was his last straw and he exploded

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Y/N put him in his place after he yelled at Alex

He looked for them a few days later to apologize

“I uh, brought cookies?”

He brings cookies every time he messes up

Doesn’t have physical boundaries with his friends

It took getting smacked on the forehead by Bobby many, many times for him to understand not to hug him unprompted

Emily loves hosting

The group used to sleep over at Luke’s a lot

The more serious Luke got about music, the more arguments he had with his mom

It got so bad he eventually ran away from home

He actually wasn’t allowed in Alex’s room alone anymore after they got caught kissing

Every time he went over to Alex's the air was tense

He stopped showing up the way he used to, instead opting to sneak in

He picked up a job as a waiter at a local diner

The group loves to go in just to terrorize him

Firmly believes that you choose your family and he chose his

Isn’t bad at school, he just can’t focus on it for the life of him

Gets detention a lot because he gets caught not paying attention

The reason they have a zero-tolerance after 3 tardies rule

He takes boxing lessons with Jose Camacho to release his pent-up energy

Forgets he knows how to fight

Reggie Peters

Born May 06, 1978 (12 at the start of the story)

Third oldest of the group

Born and raised in LA

Lives by the beach

Likes to sneak out and listen to the waves

Can surf

Lives with both his parents

But he doesn’t have a good relationship with either

He doesn’t hate them nor have they directed anything at him, he just wishes they’d listen and spend more time with him

Only child

But he babysits Diego Miller, the little boy next door who he decided was his little brother

He’s not as dense as he makes himself out to be

He just doesn’t like to think about things too much because it stirs his feelings

Really good at Math and Science

He likes that it's logical thinking, not emotional

Doesn’t like English because it requires him to tap into emotions and he really doesn’t want to

He doesn’t like History either because it leaves him bothered by the shitty and unfair past

Has selective mutism

It kicked in badly during one of his parents' fights

The longest he’s gone mute was 2 months

It kicks in every now and then but not for as long and not around everyone

He learned ASL because of it

Sometimes he uses it outside of an episode just because it’s easier

Everyone else tries to pick it up, levels of proficiency vary

He found “Wright’s Domain” a comic book shop one day after he had walked out of his house

He spends most of his Summers there

He sits in the same bean bag

The more time he spent there, the more he found himself doing random things

He’d reorganize comics, reposition figurines and when someone asked him where they could find a specific section he pointed them to it

The couple that owns the store started to notice him

They left snacks by his bean bag chair with a note thanking him for fixing up

He wrote back a thank you with a doodle of himself holding two thumbs up and an arrow pointing out his name was Reggie

The snacks waited for him every visit

His voice did come back, at the shop

He spoke to the owners, Donna and Michael, quite often, they love hearing about his day

He eventually got a job there

Ended up bringing everyone one day

He was a little nervous because the shop was his safe space but so was the group

The owners loved the group too

Donna and Michael live in THE house

Alex Mercer

Born August 23, 1978 (12 at the start of the story)

Second to last youngest

Lives with both his parents

The eldest

He has a younger sister named Sophia

Had a good relationship with both his parents up until he came out

Always watches out for his sister

He plays tea party and dresses up with her

His dad made a comment about it and Alex stopped doing it so frequently

Grew up Catholic

He never really thought much of it until he noticed he looked at boys a lot for being a boy himself

He’s not the biggest fan of it anymore

Was already an anxious kid but as he got older; his religious background, his dad's expectations, and being more aware of the world's problems made his anxiety skyrocket

He fidgets by tapping his fingers on a surface or hitting his thighs with his hands

His parents got him a drum set to help ease it

He met Y/N when they were 7

He defended her against a bully

He got detention

She walked home with him that day and they realized they lived 3 streets down from each other

Really wants to make his dad proud

His dad has a lot of traditional views of men which contradict with Alex 95% of the time

His first crush was on Ryan, a boy he went to church with, but he didn’t know it yet

His stomach dropped when he saw Ryan and another girl share a quick kiss at the park

Developed a crush on Luke

His first kiss and boyfriend was Luke

His dad opened the door to Alex’s room and caught them kissing

His dad stood there, closed the door and walked away

His dad didn’t speak to him at all through dinner

The next day, his dad told him he’d take him to church to repent

Alex said no and came out when he was 15

They got into an argument

His dad didn’t kick him out (to save his image) but told him that until he repented, he wasn’t his son

He was the first to meet Reggie

They’re in the same Math class and the teacher asked Reggie to tutor him

They met up after school twice a week

Alex wasn’t looking for a friend but Reggie being the social butterfly he is, didn’t care

The more times they saw each other, the more Alex got used to him and his antics

He actually understood Math the way Reggie would teach him

One day Luke didn’t want to go home because he had fought with his mom and Y/N was busy, Alex found Reggie to tell him he had to stick to Luke

Reggie told him Luke was welcome to join their session

Luke sat across from them and wrote in his journal but was still fidgety

Reggie cut the tutoring session short and invited them out for ice cream

Alex questioned his life choices as Luke and Reggie’s loud personalities mixed

He initiated his and Luke’s first kiss

And then immediately panicked before Luke laughed and pulled him back in

He was the one who broke up with Luke

There was an awkward air for like 2 minutes before they talked about everything and went back to being best friends

Bobby Shaw

Born March 16, 1978 (13 at the start of the story)

The second oldest of the group

Never knew his dad

Lives with his mom and grandma

Has a good relationship with both

Only child (not really but we'll get into that later)

Keeps to himself mostly

Skates

He paints, though he doesn’t like people looking at his art

Took an art class during his freshman year

He never did anything in class

He’d do it at home and sneak in the assignment the next day, nameless

His art teacher caught him one time and told him he’d leave the art room open for him to do his assignments so as long as he starts signing his name

He spends a lot of time in the art room

Close to the art teacher, Mr. Cervantez

He was the first positive male influence in his life

Befriends Y/N first, she takes an art class with him

He’s actually not sure how to handle social interactions

He’s pretty awkward

He helped Luke on their first week of high school

Luke was being picked on and they had taken the beanie off his head

He stopped Luke from launching himself at the other guys

“Come on guys, give it back.”

One of the guys looked at him questioningly

Bobby stood his ground

The guys tossed the beanie back at Luke and Bobby walked off as soon as they left

Luke approached him weeks later and he internally panicked the whole time

Has problems with authority

That guy that will touch something after you said not to

His grandma hates that he does that but he can’t help it

He’s respectful to both his mom and grandma, no one else really

Lacks a filter, has accidentally hurt people’s feelings because of it

Not a big physical touch guy

He has to be very comfortable with you to initiate touch

All talk

Like he can’t fight

He’s gotten by on physical appearance alone

The guys hide behind him all the time and when Y/N needs him, his tall looming presence behind her has people running for the hills

He’s punched one person and one person only

It was Alex’s dad

Y/N Y/L/N

Born September 01, 1978

The youngest of the group

Only child

Lives with her mom

Dad walked out when she was 7

Her mom started drinking, causing the mother-daughter bond to break

Spends the night at Alex’s a lot

The first time, her bed was set up in Sophia’s room

After everyone had gone to sleep she snuck into Alex’s room

The next day, his parents found her sleeping at the edge of his bed with his blanket draped over the edge also to cover Alex who slept on the floor

After it happened 3 more times, they stopped trying to separate the two

She has clothes in the bottom drawer of Alex’s dresser

Alex’s number 1 protector

They made friendship bracelets, purple yarn for her and blue for Alex

Luke and her = sibling energy

Likes to wear other people's clothes

Makes her feel like they’re with her and she’s not alone

Literally carrying their love with her

It started with one of the shirts her dad left behind

She likes Alex’s hoodies, Luke’s beanies and in the Summer she’ll snag one of his sleeveless tees, Reggie’s flannels and in the Winter his leather jacket, Bobby’s t-shirts and vests

The guys knock on her door when they can’t find the item they want to wear because they know she has it

She and Alex remade their friendship bracelets to include Luke (Orange)

She made them remake them later once Bobby (Green) and Reggie (Red) became part of their little group

All 5 of them wear it no matter what

She likes to draw

Was the first to befriend Bobby in art class

She admired him from afar (because look at him) and wondered what he did, given that he always slept in the class

One time while waiting for Alex and Luke to get out of detention, she walked around school and caught Bobby in the art room

His back was to her and he wore headphones as he painted

She loved his piece and wondered why he never did anything in class

Wrote him sticky notes encouraging him to show his work

Eventually, he wrote back saying he’d reveal his work if she revealed who she was

It was a deal and they started talking more afterwards

Luke was upset when he learned she was friends with Bobby

Mostly because he thought Bobby was a dick (a dick he tried to be friends with first but failed)

TEASER

#fanfic writing #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #bobby shaw #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex mercer #sunset curve 90s #sunset curve x reader #sunset curve #wwweu?#ash writes #bobby shaw x reader #reggie peters x reader #x reader #insert reader #julie and the himbos #sunset curve headcanons #jatp headcanons

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bimboficationblues · 2 months

Note

what would you put on a political theory syllabus if you could

like an intro/survey course? so the conventional theory class in Anglo-American poli-phil goes roughly like this: Plato/Aristotle -> Machiavelli (if you fuck nasty) -> Hobbes/Locke/Rousseau -> J.S. Mill -> Marx (sometimes, and only with the disclaimer that this guy needs to lighten up!) -> omission of like 120 years of global thought, including the shifts wrought by two World Wars, postcolonialism, and 1968 -> Rawls. there's usually, but not consistently, some idiosyncratic liberal picks from the various omitted periods/regions based on whatever the academic in question is preoccupied with, or attempts (sometimes sincere, sometimes half-hearted) to add some diversity to the lineup, most typically some form of liberal-leaning writings on feminism or racism or occasionally postcolonialism.

I think this abridged history is like, okay but not great (Charles Mills' Decolonizing Political Philosophy is a great piece on why). it’s produced by a combination of both the discipline's narrow post-Rawls liberal paradigm, and the constraints of intro/survey courses, which aim for breadth rather than depth (which I think is generally reasonable at least on its face), so the trick I would want to pull off is making something that works within the latter constraint while not succumbing to the paradigm.

the question sort of demands interrogating what a theory class is for in the ideal sense, what it uniquely can offer (so, going beyond specific skills that can be developed in other ways, like learning to write, understand, critique, and respond to long-form argument, or the more cynical pipeline-to-labor stuff like credentialing).

I think some main goals would be 1) contextualizing your existence in the world as a political subject, 2) be able to pass an ideological Turing test, i.e. accurately represent the substance of different perspectives and worldviews such that you could "pass" for the authentic thing [so I would include writers/writings that I detest for KYE reasons], 3) increase your autonomy as a political agent and ability to recognize how these various concepts and systems underlie the fabric of our political language and practice and how you can apply them in reality in collaboration with others.

an extension of these goals, imo, is that political thought without a history is dead in the water - this is why I have kind of a hardline opposition to trying to learn political theory mostly through social media and why "leftist theory recs" on here usually drive me absolutely crazy. so any teaching of these readings would probably require a decent level of contextualization.

then there's a question of structure. my intro class was actually pretty enjoyable despite following the pattern described above, as my prof centered the class around different chapters of Plato's Republic, using each chapter as a jumping off point to talk about connections with a more modern political thinker while also incorporating some short fiction of Octavia Butler. cool stuff! I think organizing around theme is edifying. there's tradeoffs to doing chronological vs thematic organization of readings though, which I want to keep in mind

so with all that I think it would look roughly like this (though frankly my reach might be exceeding my grasp), and you could pretty much reorganize the readings to be chronological if you wanted:

"The Political"/Power: I think spending some time on "metapolitics" is important, like what politics is and what the function of political philosophy is. So start with some different perspectives on realism vs. idealism (the Republic, the Melian dialogue, The Prince) and sliding into competing definitions of politics as conflict vs consensus (the Arendt/Fanon and Schmitt/Benjamin "debates")

Authority: Hobbes/Rousseau/Hume on the social contract, the Crito/Thoreau/MLK on civil disobedience, ideally an anarchist of some stripe (would rather include Bakunin or Kropotkin but R.P. Wolff might be the more cohesive move)

Equality/Property: Locke's Second Treatise, Rousseau's Discourse on Inequality, The Communist Manifesto and/or Marx on primitive accumulation as an alternative genealogy of property/money, Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morality as illustrative of a reactionary/aristocratic perspective on equality (you could swap in Aristotle instead for a different take), Fanon in Black Skins White Masks

Justice: Plato, Rawls on distributive justice, Nussbaum on capabilities/global justice, Mills on the racial contract

Freedom: Mill's On Liberty, Marcuse's "Critique of Pure Tolerance," some chapters from Capital V1, "Throwing Like a Girl" by Young (plus maybe some Beauvoir/Wittig). work in Berlin and Pettit's competing ideas of liberty

then maybe end on Foucault writing in a broad mode about subjectivity OR Benjamin's "On the Concept of History" - either would be good for a kind of "call to action" that I like in a politics class

there are some concepts that might warrant their own segment (domination, violence, sovereignty, revolution, security, progress - I waffled on making "property" its own unit), but I'm trying to not go too crazy (and it's possible they could get folded into other concepts as corollaries). I'm also leaving out various authors that I do think merit inclusion (Adorno, Dewey, D&G, Lenin & Mao, Althusser, Davis, various contemporary writers), but I would probably follow the path of my Middle Eastern Politics professor - put supplemental/suggested readings in there for the freaks that like this stuff.

and finally I think the above is more tailored to be an introduction (if a somewhat sweeping one), you could take an alternative tack and construct "contemporary issues in political theory" (e.g. migration/refugees, climate, economic crisis, security state/surveillance) and I think that would also be a rewarding survey

#instantly regret posting this but here we are

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morri-draws · 2 months

Text

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 1

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,245

Read on Ao3

The king and queen of Camelot sit at breakfast in the royal chambers, cherishing their morning together before they are required for their duties.

“Oh, that reminds me,” King Arthur says, fork in hand. “The royal clothier is retiring. He has served us for many years, but is getting too old to continue in the position. I shall look among those who serve the nobility for a worthy successor,”

“Why not look in the town?” Queen Guinevere takes a sip from her goblet. “There are many skilled people there. They should not be overlooked just because they have not yet made a name for themselves. We should give them a chance,”

The king smiles at his wife. “You’re right. The common people should have the opportunity to shine. Would you like to see to it, or shall I?”

Knowing that Arthur’s version of him ‘seeing to it’ would be to send out his manservant to do it for him, the queen decides against it.

“I shall go. I would like to see how our people in the city fair. I haven’t been to the lower town for some time,”

Having just reorganized the shelves where the fabrics are stored and displayed, you sweep the floor, gathering any dust and threads that may have fallen during your time tidying. Once a neat pile is formed, you return the broom into the back room and reach for a dustpan and brush, when you hear the familiar jingle of your doorbell, alerting you that someone has entered your shop.

Hastily brushing off your dress with your hands, you step into the small shop front, to see the finest lady who has ever entered your humble establishment. Not just any lady either, but the Queen of Camelot herself. You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment, before lowering into a deep curtsy.

“How may I be of service, my queen?”

“Please, there is no need for such formality,” The queen beckons for you to stand. “What is your name?”

You tell her.

The queen smiles. “Well, (Y/N), I would like you to make me a new gown,”

Her words strike you with utter disbelief, and you’re surely standing with mouth ajar, like a gaping fish.

“Is that something you could do?” The queen asks, jolting you out of your paralysed state.

“Of course my lady, it would be an honour to fashion a new gown for you. Although I am not sure if I stock any fabrics fine enough,”

“I shan’t know until I have seen what you have. Shall we take a look?” she gestures to the fabric shelf behind the counter.

“Of course,” You lead her to the display. “As you can see, it is mostly wool and linen. Any finer fabrics I have are in small lengths, for bodices and girdles and such,”

The queen peruses the fabrics, handling some between her fingers to inspect them. Her dark eyes look over the various bolts, before resting on one on the lower shelf.

“What about this?” She reaches for a silvery-purple velvet.

“Oh yes,” You say, bending down to slide out the bolt. “This was for a wedding gown for a merchant’s daughter. Unfortunately, the wedding was called off,”

“That is sad indeed,” The queen says. “Do you think you might use the fabric for something else?”

“Honestly, no. It has been sitting there for some time. You see, I usually don’t work with such fine fabrics. I just don’t get those sort of customers,”

“Well, then it seems fate has decided,” The queen smiles. “I would like my new gown to be made with it,”

“Yes, my lady,” You pick up the bolt and place it on a nearby table. “Do you have a particular style of gown and trimmings in mind? If not, I can draw up some ideas,”

“I think I would like you to surprise me,”

Her answer is unexpected, filling you with nervousness but also excitement. “Very well, my lady. I will just need to take your measurements, then I can get started right away,”

You show her to the back room and close the door once you’re both inside. Taking out a tape measure, your sewing journal and a quill and ink, you take the queen’s measurements, marking the numbers down in the journal. Once that is complete, you wish each other good day.

Once the queen of Camelot steps out of your shop, you exhale, releasing tension you didn’t realise you were holding. The whole encounter hardly feels like it even happened.

For the next two days, you work on the queen’s gown. First, you sketch a number of designs until you come up with one you’re pleased with. Then you draft the pattern, before sewing a calico mock-up of the gown. On the morning of the third day, the mock-up is ready for a test fitting, so you place it carefully in a wicker basket you usually use for shopping at the market, along with your case of dressmaking tools.

You trudge your way up the muddy streets of the lower city, legs aching from the incline, when you finally reach Camelot castle.

You pass through the portcullis and over the bridge, finding yourself in a large courtyard. You look around in wonder at the grand, snowy-white walls of the palace, never having seen a structure so ornate. Yes, you have of course seen a view of the turrets from a distance in the lower town, but it doesn’t compare to seeing it up-close.

Once you’ve taken in the sights, it occurs to you that you have no idea where to go. Turning on the spot, you attempt to identify entrances into the castle. Would it be most proper to find a servant’s entrance? Perhaps you should find someone who looks like a servant to help you. You’re about to single out someone in the courtyard when footsteps approach you from behind. You whirl around to see a man dressed in chainmail and a scarlet cloak: a knight of Camelot. You have seen them come and go through the lower town, both on foot and on horseback. You’d often watch them as they passed, wondering what sights they might see on their patrols and quests throughout the kingdom.

The knight has dark, shoulder length hair that waves at the ends, and facial hair, a length somewhere between stubble and a short beard.

“Do you need some help?” He asks. “You look a little lost,”

“I need to see the queen,” You reply.

“And what business might you have with the queen of Camelot?” He asks in a way not at all accusatory or suspicious, but as a general inquiry.

“The queen has tasked me with making a new gown for her. I have come to conduct a fitting,”

He nods, your reason accepted. “I can take you to her. Here,” He reaches for the handle of your basket and takes it from your grasp.

“There’s no need for you to carry that, sir. I can manage,” You move to take the basket back.

The knight pulls his arm away so you can’t reach it. “And there’s no need to call me sir. The name’s Gwaine,”

“A pleasure to meet you, Gwaine. I am (Y/N),”

“Well met,” He smiles. “Shall we go?” He inclines his head toward a staircase across the courtyard.

You follow your guide into the castle and up a narrow flight of stairs. As you pass through a corridor, he turns his head to you.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. Have you been in Camelot long?” He asks, maintaining his stride.

“A couple years,” You reply, keeping pace. “I still can’t believe the queen visited my shop to commission a gown,”

“That is quite the honour,” Gwaine says, turning a corner and leading you down another passage, before halting in front of a double door. “Here we are. Let’s see if she’s in,”

He knocks upon the door thrice.

“Enter,” a feminine voice says from within.

Gwaine opens the door and pokes his head inside. “(Y/N) to see you about a dress,”

He steps aside and gestures for you to enter.

“Good luck,” He smiles as he hands you your basket and heads back the way he came.

You step into the royal chambers, where the queen stands beside a rectangular table, two windows in the wall behind her flooding the room with light.

“Please come inside,” The queen says with a smile.

“Thank you my lady,” You come forward a few steps. “I have made a mock-up version of your gown, so that I may conduct a fitting. Then I can see if any adjustments need to be made before I start on the actual gown,”

“Of course. You may set your things down here,” She gestures to the table.

You place your basket down and retrieve the dress, a box of pins and a piece of chalk from within it. The queen shows you to the left of the room, where a double archway leads into a bedchamber. A large, four poster bed is positioned against the back wall. On the adjacent wall is a stained glass window with a writing desk in front. Against the wall opposite the bed is a full length mirror beside a wardrobe and a wooden privacy screen, which the queen steps behind.

“Do you need some assistance getting undressed, my lady?”

“Yes, thank you. Just with the back fastenings,”

She sweeps her curly, dark brown locks over her shoulder so you can access said fastenings. Once they are all undone, she does the rest, removing the gown so she is just in her shift. You help her into the mock-up gown and pin it closed at the back.

“Turn around please, my lady,”

The queen does as you say, and you inspect the fit of the gown. You place pins here and there, where adjustments need to be made, and make some markings with chalk. Once you are satisfied, you help her undress.

“If you have the time, my lady, I’d like to make these adjustments now, so we can try it on again in a few moments,”

“I have time,” She gestures to the table for you to sit down, while she opens the wardrobe and retrieves a crossover robe, which she slips on over her shift. She then joins you at the table, sitting at the other end to give you space to work.

“It still seems so strange having someone else make my clothes for me,” She says.

You glance up from your work.

“I used to be in your place now, making gowns for… well…” She trails off.

“Do you ever miss how things used to be?” You ask, as you weave your needle in and out of the fabric.

The queen looks to the side thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry,” You say quickly. “That’s probably a silly question,”

“No, not at all,” The queen smiles reassuringly. “There are some things I miss about those days. As a servant, I could pass through the castle and go completely unnoticed. You can’t go anywhere like that as queen. Everyone’s eyes are on you at all times, like they’re waiting for you to slip up, make a mistake,”

You nod as you listen to her answer. “That must be difficult,”

“It can be,” She agrees. “But one thing I definitely don’t miss is hauling buckets of water up flights of stairs to fill my mistress’ bathtub,”

You laugh. “Indeed. Hopefully one day someone works out a better system,”

You finish off your stitch, snipping off the end with scissors.

“The adjustments are made, if you’d like to try it on again?”

You both return to the screen and you repeat the process from before, pinning the gown closed and having her turn around. You look over the garment, smoothing and tugging some areas, until you step back, satisfied.

You help the queen out of the mock-up gown and back into her regular gown, before you pack the mock-up and your sewing tools back into the basket.

“I will get to work with the velvet right away. It should be ready in a few days,”

“Wonderful,” The queen replies. “But please do not rush yourself. I have no deadline to meet,”

You give a small curtsy and leave the royal chambers, tracing your steps back to the courtyard, thankfully not getting lost on the way. Once you’re in familiar ground again, you make your way home in good time.

You spend the next few days working on the queen’s gown, your focus entirely on that task, since you don’t have any other work at the moment. Truth be told, your business hasn’t been doing so well, and you’ve been starting to think you might have to find more work. But this job for the queen should help to at least give you more time to figure something out.

Four days pass and the gown is finally finished. As you look over your creation, you believe it is your finest work yet. Once you’ve made yourself some lunch, you wrap the gown in paper, and carry the parcel up to the castle.

With no knight to guide you this time, you make your own way across the courtyard and up the steps, entering the castle to climb stairs and walk down corridors, until you make it to the royal chambers. You rap on the door and the queen greets you a moment later, beckoning you inside.

“It is finished, my lady,” You hold out the parcel in front of you. “Would you like to try it on?”

“I would love to,” The queen presses the palms of her hands together excitedly.

You follow her to the dressing screen and help her out of her current gown and into the new. Once it’s all fastened, she steps over to the large mirror by the wardrobe and gasps once she sees her reflection.

“(Y/N), this is absolutely beautiful,” She turns her body from side to side, looking at every angle, before shooting an ecstatic grin your way.

“If there is anything at all you would like changed or adjusted, just say the word,”

“Oh no, this is perfect,” She strides toward you, taking your hands in hers. “You are very skilled, (Y/N), you should be immensely proud of your work,”

Warmth flushes your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you, my lady,”

“I won’t wear it today, since I’ve already been seen about the castle wearing something else. I don’t want to appear as a frivolous queen who changes her gown five times a day,” She grins. “I’ll wear it to the council meeting tomorrow, I think. If you can help me back into my other gown, I have something I want to discuss with you,”

You join the queen behind the screen again to help her undress. Once she’s back in her previous gown, she leads you to the table and you sit down together.

“Tell me, (Y/N), are you happy with your current situation in the lower town?”

Taken aback at the question, you’re unsure what to say.

“Please, be honest,” The queen says. “Is your shop doing well? Can you get by comfortably?”

You look down at your hands in your lap. “Truthfully, my lady, business is not so good,”

She gives you a sympathetic look. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you. I just wanted an idea what your situation was, before I made you any offer,”

“Offer?”

“I am very pleased with your work, (Y/N), and that is why I want to offer you the position of Royal Clothier,”

You stare, gobsmacked. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” She smiles. “I understand this is no small thing. If you accept, you would move into your own chambers in the castle. You would leave behind your current home and shop. However, as royal clothier, you will not need to rent your rooms as they come with the position. The chambers are fully furnished and well-lit, perfect for needlework,”

You listen intently, trying to absorb every word of what the queen is saying. No more worrying about making rent, no more hunching over your work in a dingy room, no more fretting about if and when the next job might come along.

“I know this is a lot to take in, so I don’t expect you to answer right away. You may have a few days to think it over,”

“I don’t need to think it over,” You blurt out. Of course you’re scared. It’s a huge change. But you can’t carry on how you are now. You know this has to be a step in the right direction, and not just a step forward, but a step up. “I accept the position,”

“That’s wonderful!” The queen grins. “Of course you must have a few days to pack up your belongings. Please let me know if you need any help, I can arrange for someone to assist you,”

“I don’t have much to move,” You admit. “I will be able to manage on my own. Thank you for your kindness my lady. I cannot express how much it means to me to be given this opportunity,”

The queen takes your hand in hers. “You deserve for your skill to be recognised, (Y/N). I am more than happy to help with that,”

Overcome from this kindness, you find it hard to keep your emotions in check.

“I can see that I’ve quite overwhelmed you,” The queen says, standing up. “I should let you get back home,”

You stand as well. “Thank you again, my lady. You can expect me in two days’ time. I won’t need any more,”

“Excellent,” She leads you to the door, and opens it partially, looking back at you. “Just one more thing, (Y/N). My name is Guinevere, but my friends call me Gwen, and I would like us to be friends,”

You smile. “So I should call you Gwen?” You confirm.

“Exactly. No need to call me my lady. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,”

You make it back to the lower town at an alarming rate, your elated mood adding a spring in your step and speed to your gait.

Beginning your descent down the main street, a flash of scarlet ahead catches your eye. Four of Camelot’s knights on horseback are heading your way at a leisurely trot. You scan their faces, three of which you do not recognise, but the fourth you realise is the knight you met a few days ago, Sir Gwaine. Since the knights are riding, they are soon at your position in the street, three of the four passing by. Sir Gwaine slows his horse and comes to a halt, dismounting. He leads the horse by its reins and comes your way, greeting you with a smile.

“You look very pleased,” He says, stopping a few feet from you. “How goes your quest for the queen?”

You break into a smile. “She offered me the position of royal clothier, and I accepted,”

“Congratulations,” He grins, his delight seeming genuine. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around, then?”

“Yes, I suppose you will. I will be living in the castle,”

“You’re moving up in the world,” He says, stroking his horse’s flank. “Anyway, I’d better get back. Duty calls. Until next time,” He gives a small wave and mounts his horse again.

#gwaine #gwaine x reader #sir gwaine #merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #reader insert #merlin fic #bbc merlin fic #my writing

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numinousmysteries · 5 months

Text

Fool's Gold

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day 1: Gold

[on Ao3]

December 1993

Mulder is off visiting his mother for Hanukkah and it’s quiet in the office. Scully uses the downtime to familiarize herself with some of his older cases. She’s tempted to reorganize the files but she assumes they’re arranged by a logic only Mulder understands. She, however, cannot decode it. It’s not alphabetical, geographical, or thematic but she’s never seen him struggle to find anything so she leaves them be. The filing cabinets smell like old books, stale coffee, and him.

She’s still a little surprised she didn’t find out Mulder was Jewish until nearly a year into their partnership. Granted, he doesn’t wear a symbol of his faith around his neck like she does and he explained that he’s Jewish more in heritage than in practice. Besides, he told her, he was really leaving town to avoid having his paycheck docked for failing to take any vacation time in the past four years. The year-end deadline just happened to coincide with the holiday so he thought he’d make his mother happy and spend it with her.

Their partnership is odd like that. It’s so intimate at times while, in many ways, he still feels like a stranger. She trusts him with her life, but knows so few details about his past or who he is when they’re off the clock. When she told her sister about her new partner, Missy grilled her: Is he good looking? (Conventionally, sure, you could say that). Does he have a girlfriend? (If he does, she must have the patience of a saint). Would you hook up with him? (That one just got a conversation-ending eyebrow raise).

The office is sepulchral without their usual verbal volley of theories and retorts. Free of his frenetic energy, the space feels like it’s lost its electric charge. It’s like walking into a room knowing the party has already dispersed. His scent has fully permeated the air, warm and musky, as if it’s a skin he’s recently shed. Sitting in his chair, she feels like a child playing pretend. His warmth is long gone from the fabric but it still holds his shape.

It’s her office, too, but it doesn’t feel like it. She has no desk, no name plate, no personal items of her own to pair with his old awards, family photos, and news clippings. It’s as if this is his life and she’s just passing through. Part of her wants to make her mark, to leave something of herself in their basement lair, but she also fears doing so would forever bind her to this place. During her first case on the X-Files she felt like a visitor in a strange land, but each day finds her tip-toeing closer and closer into Mulder’s world—if not his life.

She’s reading a case file from 1991 about a boy in Tennessee who Mulder believed was possessed by the spirit of his great-great grandfather when she notices a second signature alongside Mulder’s in the case report: Diana Fowley. Next to Mulder’s staccato, detached scrawl, Fowley’s signature is all sensuous curves, looping letters smoothly linked together. Scully locates a few other files from the same year and sees the same name.

It doesn’t shock her that Mulder had a partner before her. It’s standard FBI protocol for all field agents to have one. But she is surprised that he never mentioned her before. Was Diana sent to debunk Mulder’s work like she was? Or was she a fellow believer? Did she make the basement her home as well?

Scully’s curiosity gets the better of her and she picks up the phone.

“Holly? Hi, it’s Dana Scully. Agent Mulder is out and I had a question about an old case of his so I was hoping I could speak to his previous partner. Her name is Diana Fowley. Do you think you could find her extension for me?”

“Sure, Dana, no problem,” Holly says on the other end of the line.

Scully hears Holly clacking at the keys on her computer over the phone. She immediately feels embarrassed. Would she be snooping around like this if Mulder’s old partner was a man?

“Hi Dana,” Holly says finally. “It looks like Agent Fowley is currently stationed in Berlin in the counterterrorism unit. Do you want me to connect you to her office?”

“No, that’s fine,” Scully demurs. “It’s after working hours on her time. I’ll probably figure this out on my own anyway. Thank you, though.”

“Anytime,” Holly says and hangs up the phone.

Counterterrorism? It doesn’t seem like a natural stepping stone after working on the X-Files. Scully tries to resume her work but that name keeps appearing and taunting her.

She’s flipping through a file for a case on a murderous Loch Ness-esque monster spotted in Lake Erie when she sees a photo paper-clipped to a crime scene report.

In the photo, Mulder is walking around the shores of a marshy lake with a tall, brunette woman a few paces ahead of him. Scully can’t deny the woman is pretty. She has strong features and wears a fitted skirt suit that clings to her feminine frame. Her dark hair is perfectly in place, the way Scully wishes hers looked out on assignment when it instead typically devolved into a halo of frizz. She looks like a woman—while Scully sometimes feels like a girl playing dress-up in the boxy pantsuits she bought, believing they’d make her look more professional. Instead of acting as sartorial armor, though, she fears her outfits just make her look small and sexless.

Then, she sees it. On Mulder’s left ring finger there’s a gold band, shining in the sunlight. And on Diana’s: a matching one.

It’s possible Diana had a husband at home, but Mulder? It doesn’t make any sense. Scully reviewed his personnel files when she was first assigned to work with him and he’s never been married.

After an hour of struggling to focus on work and pacing around the office she decides to take her research to some more unofficial channels.

****

“Agent Scully, what a pleasant surprise,” Frohike says as he welcomes her into the Lone Gunmen HQ, bolting the door shut behind her.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Byers chimes in.

“Yeah,” adds Langly. “Didn’t expect to see you while Mulder’s out of town.”

“Who is Diana Fowley?” she blurts out. She spent the drive over concocting a plausible backstory for her question but once she arrives, she’s too anxious for answers.

The three men look at each other silently for a moment and Scully’s heartbeat accelerates.

“She was Mulder’s chickadee when he just got out of the Academy,” Frohike says, looking down and avoiding eye contact with her. “Good-looking.”

“She was there when he discovered the X-Files. She has a background in para-science,” says Langly.

“But she got a legat appointment abroad and they split up,” says Byers.

“Were they married?” She asks.

“Not officially,” says Frohike. “But Diana was a little ... possessive of Mulder. She made him wear a ring.”

“It was actually kind of romantic,” Byers says.

“Oh come on, man,” Langly snipes. “He was totally whipped.”

“It was complicated,” Frohike says, splitting the difference.

Scully bites her bottom lip. “I need to go. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell Mulder about this.”

“Your secret’s safe with us, Agent Scully. I’ll walk you to your car,” says Frohike, standing to meet her.

“That’s totally unnecessary,” she says.

“You can never be too careful,” he replies.

Scully wants to protest that she’s carrying a gun and is inarguably in better fighting shape than this short, balding man, but she just smiles and nods.

She’s about to unlock her car when Frohike says, “Listen Scully, no matter what you hear about Diana I want you to know you have nothing to worry about.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, taken aback.

“Even if you and Mulder don’t have that type of relationship, I can assure you we’re all much happier to see him with you than Diana. There was a lot of passion there, but also a lot of mind-fuckery. I don’t think she always had his best interests at heart.”

“Frohike, that’s alright, my curiosity was purely professional,” she says.

“Sure,” Frohike nods. “But trust me, I can tell from the way he talks about you that you two have a good thing going whether that’s just as partners or something…more. It’s a lot more significant than a fake gold ring, anyway.”

She looks at him quizzically.

“What? We obviously analyzed it. Had to make sure it wasn’t a device she was using to track our boy. Didn’t find anything nefarious, but didn’t find any real gold, either. Totally hollow inside, just like the woman who gave it to him.”

“Thank you, Frohike,” she says.

“Get home safe.”

In the rearview mirror, Scully sees Frohike waiting at the door to the Gunmen’s heavily protected fortress as one of the other two lets him in. Then she watches as his small form disappears inside and the door shuts behind him. She smiles to herself as she drives away.

#eightnightsofmulder #eightdaysofmulder #8dom #xfiles #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #txf

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