#this piece is a year old and i finally had a reason to actually do something with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whore-era · 1 year

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☁︎ mean!ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ themes: grumpy x sunshine trope, reader chasing after ellie ☁︎ summary: in which jackson's sweetest girl crushes on the town's grumpy asshole. ☁︎ a/n: loosely inspired by the cartoon 'puca puca' lmao, hope yall luv this one ♡ ☁︎ word count: 6,883

spring was coming in swiftly, and you couldn’t be more excited. the snow was beginning to melt, and the town was experiencing small spouts of rain, kickstarting the bloom of some of the most beautiful flowers in the surrounding forest.

it finally gave you a reason to take out your spring-wear and put your thick and heavy winter coats away in the back of your closet. fashion and clothing was a hobby you found yourself engrossed in, taking the time to carefully curate bright outfits and sew together your own unique pieces, utilizing whatever scraps of fabric you could get your hands on. it certainly took your mind off the reality of what went on behind these walls, a responsibility you could never imagine partaking in. everyone in town held those who went on patrol on high pedestals, thanking them for their brave service of facing those monstrosities and protecting us every day.

thankfully, maria assigned you the responsibility of the town’s animal caretaker. tenderly providing the animals with food, care, and love. it was a job you absolutely dreamed of, always having a deep fondness for animals, even since you were a small child.

“oh, jeez, minnie, i think you’re about ready to almost pop,” you mutter, feeding straws of hay to minnie, the beautiful, big, brown cow. she was one of two cows you had on the farm and was currently pregnant, ready to give birth to a cute, little calf.

minnie doesn’t say anything, and chews on the grain instead. but you like to think that minnie understands your shared conversations, and often expresses her opinions in little ‘moos’. it was either that, or you were actually going insane.

“i think we’ll name your baby….buttercup,” you suggest, rubbing minnie’s ears, “doesn’t that sound lovely, minnie?” and she lets out a little snort, inciting a small smile from you.

checking your wristwatch, your eyes widen. “oops, almost time for patrol. i’ll be back later, sweet lady,” you say as you give minnie’s nose a gentle rub. getting up on your feet, you go to the sink and wash your hands, drying them and using another rag to wipe off any dirt or debris from your light blue overalls.

this was your usual routine. waking up bright and early, heading to the barn to feed the animals, and making sure they have enough water and are groomed. then, you head over to the stables and help the other stableboys get the horses ready for patrol. yeah, the horses were absolute cuties, but a huge part of the reason you volunteered to go to the stables was so you could see ellie williams before patrol.

ellie williams was a dream. a dream you’ve been wishing for since you were 13 years old. you were enamored with how fearless she was. she was famous in town for her journey with joel, and what the duo survived out in the open world — causing everyone to heavily praise the two, and think of them in high regard. but you could see there was more to her than meets the eye. yeah, sure, she was a little rough around the edges, but who wasn’t after seeing what she experienced? ellie was usually quiet, and reserved, mostly keeping to herself and her close friends and family.

the younger folks in jackson think ellie was an ass and a big ole’ grouch. always having a grimace gracing her face or a ‘resting bitch face’ that’d intimidate even the most dangerous of bloaters. but those accusations never startled you.

over the years you’ve tried to get closer to ellie, going out of your way to give her gifts and cooking foods you know she likes. it was your way of helping ellie feel better and relax after a stressful day of patrol, and it was the least you could do. sometimes ellie would get a teensy bit annoyed with you, and would occasionally tell you to tone it down, but you just blamed it on her exhaustion due to patrol.

as you brushed shimmer’s mane, you picked up some baby’s breath that bloomed in your mother's garden and began to tuck it into the creases of the braid you were creating.

“do you feel beautiful, shim?” you ask her, “‘cause you look beautiful.” you giggle, rubbing her nose.

putting down the small pail you used to hold the flowers in, your eyes shift to the exit, raking them over the brunette a few feet away from you. your heart flips in your chest, and you let out a small sigh, fawning over her — ellie williams.

everything moved in a slow, fluid motion as she turned and headed in your direction. it was like a spotlight was shining right at her, following her every movement. you could only imagine how it’d be to have the privilege of being ellie’s girlfriend, to hold her hand, to kiss her goodbye, to nuzzle into her body during those cold winters. it was a fantasy only your diary had the pleasure of holding.

there was only one girl in this entire town who held the reputation of being ellie’s girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend. it was dina woodward. they dated for a brief six months, before splitting up and continuing a civil friendship. you weren’t sure what the real reason was for their breakup, but rumors say they ended things because ellie was a terrible partner, never doing anything ‘romantic’ for her or showing any real affection towards her. others say they only got together because they were fooling around when they were out during patrol, and when word of it got out, they thought they’d might as well be together to save face.

but rumors were just rumors and you were never the type of person to believe such things unless they came from the actual source.

your body reacted before your mind could, and before you knew it, you were jogging over towards ellie, throwing your arms around her neck, “good morning, ellie!!”

ellie rolled her eyes, annoyed by the sudden physical contact and loud voice booming so early in the morning. she took hold of your hips, attempting to pry you off her, “alright, alright, that’s enough.”

pulling away and facing her, you smile sheepishly, “sorry, sorry— forgot you hated it when i got a little loud, especially before patrol.”

she huffed, crossing her arms in frustration. ellie knew you as the girl who had this puppy-sick crush on her the moment she arrived at jackson. as young tweens, you chased her around the school grounds, craving any bit of her attention and bothering her whenever the moment arose, like taking every open opportunity to be her partner during class or science experiments. you were the gum on the bottom of her boot, stuck and stubborn, never budging.

but as the years progressed, she’s learned to tolerate you, thinking you’d eventually get tired of her somehow. giving up after the unreciprocated feelings and chasing after another unlucky fool.

“what happened to shimmer’s mane?” ellie questioned, poking at the flowers adorning the horse’s hair.

“i braided some flowers in it,” you smile proudly, “she’s cute, huh?”

she nodded mindlessly, and leaned into shimmer’s ear, “i’ll take those off when we get outta here.”

you made sure to grab the paper bag and held it out to ellie, “i made you lunch again. i left a little note in there, so make sure you read it, m’kay?” you smiled, nodding towards the bagged lunch.

ellie apprehensively took the bag from your hands, and gave you a curt nod, “yea,” she murmured, “thanks.”

shoving the bag in her backpack, she took ahold of shimmer’s leads, guiding her out of the stables. but you gently touched her arm, “um, ellie.”

she turns slightly, “hm?”

“be safe out there, okay? i’ll be here, waiting for you,” you bite your lip, “and if something happens to you, i’ll— uh— come lookin’ for ya! and i’ll beat those uglies up!”

you smile widely, feeling a bit embarrassed by your word choice, but she got your message. with an awkward smile, she mutters “thanks.”

before she turns again, you move quickly and wrap your arms around her again, giving her a tight squeeze before pecking her on the cheek. a warm, rush of crimson fanned across her cheeks, turning her a bright, cherry red.

“okay, okay! that’s enough,” ellie groans.

“sorry, sorry,” you pull off and quickly smooth out her clothes, but she just turns away and walks off with shimmer at full tilt.

as ellie approaches beside jesse, he does a double-take and gawks at her, his curious eyes scanning the face of the girl next to him.

“wow, dude, you look like a tomato-” ellie cut him off.

“shut the fuck up, jess. just shut up.”

as much as you aggravated ellie, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to herself that you made her feel something. something she desperately wanted to despise.

and if there was one thing that was true about her, it was that ellie williams was no liar.

after arriving at one of the checkpoints along the route, jesse and ellie tied their horses and settled at the abandoned fire lookout tower, taking a much-needed break.

ellie picked off the white florets from shimmer’s hair, letting the small flowers fall to the ground.

“god, she put so many in here,” ellie muttered, irritated by how many little flowers tangled in the horse’s mane. jesse peered over at her, amusedly watching her peel off the petals and toss them over her shoulder.

“she ‘do that?” jesse questioned, referring to you as he rummaged through the saddle bag of his horse.

ellie sighed, “yea.”

“she did a pretty good job,” jesse smiled, “she’s nice for doin’ that.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time today, “whatever,” she mutters, “shimmer is a brave and strong woman. this shit just makes her look— like a joke.”

the raven-haired boy shook his head in disagreement, “i just think you try to make yourself hate whatever she does.”

ellie stopped to glare at him, “not true.”

she didn’t care what you did. she just didn’t want you to involve your perky, bubbly nonsense in her business. ellie thought of you as the complete opposite of her, and being opposites, she couldn’t manage to be around you. you were sunshine, rainbows, puppies, bubbles, and an optimist. ellie was the moon, darkness, crows, horror movies, and a pessimist. two different things. two things that didn’t mix.

“lies. you try to find every little thing wrong with her, but you can’t admit the truth. she’s the sweetest.” ellie tried her best to ignore the words coming from jesse’s mouth, but she couldn’t. it frustrated her how much he thought you affected her. it was simply false.

sure, ellie tries to shake off the feeling of pride she gets when you look up at her with adoring eyes and call her ‘brave’ after a day out on patrol, and yeah, she tries to brush away the heat that rises to her face when she sees your face light up every morning when you first see her, but that’s because it doesn’t mean anything. the way ellie blushed rose red after you kissed her cheek this morning meant absolutely nothing.

“she’s the nicest girl in town,” jesse goes on as the pair take a seat on the wooden steps of the tower, “and you’re being an asshole.”

“yeah, whatever. let’s eat.” ellie attempts to shift the conversation, feeling uneased about all this discussion of you. jesse shrugged, opening his pack and taking out a wrapped-up pack of bison jerky and an apple and took a crispy, juicy bite from the fruit.

ellie took out the paper bag, taking a minute to stare at the ‘for ellie :)’ written in black marker. unfolding the bag, she takes out a tupperware and opens the lid revealing a roasted turkey sandwich on a homemade french roll, freshly made potato chips, a small salad, and a little fruit tart on the side. she takes the small paper in her hand, reading the note you wrote for her:

let me know how you like the food! everything was made this morning and packed with love. be safe and have a great day ellie!

p.s you look pretty today :)

xoxoxo

ellie suppressed the tiny flutters of butterflies floating in her stomach, blaming it on her evergrowing hunger, and crumpled the note, tossing it back in the paper bag.

“woah, where’d you get that?” jesse said with a mouth full of jerky, “couldn’t bother to get me one?”

she rolled her eyes, “she always gives me lunch before patrol. you wanna share?”

jesse shook his head at her offer, “nah, i’m good. don’t think your little housewife would be happy to hear you didn’t finish your food, ma’am,” jesse teased, letting out a chuckle.

dragging out a groan, ellie closed her eyes before opening them again, “she’s not my— oh, fuck off.”

she chucked a chip at him, the crispy snack hitting him on the shoulder as he laughed again.

there were a lot of things ellie’s didn’t like about you, but she had to admit, you were a damn good cook.

the sunshine was something you’ve grown to appreciate during your time in jackson. as the winters can drag out for months, you took every opportunity to bask in the sun outside when the weather deemed it possible to do so. during the hotter months in town, you loved getting dressed in flowy dresses and letting the sun kiss your skin tan. it was a treat you and the rest of the people in town enjoyed, especially when everyone took their loved ones to the lake nearby and waded in the cool, fresh water.

after ellie left for patrol in the morning, the weather decided to look up and the sun beamed brighter in the clear, blue skies today, giving you the perfect chance to change out of your overalls and into a cute blouse with puffy sleeves and a pair of blue denim jean shorts.

sitting on a bench perched outside the fence of the cow’s pen, you let yourself relax, soaking up the warmth radiating from the sunshine and occasionally taking sips from the ice, cold lemonade mrs. meyers made for the workers.

your ears perked up at the bustling clanks of the main gates opening. sitting up and shielding your eyes from the sun, you take a look and see that ellie and jesse are back from patrol. jumping up in excitement, you set your drink down and sprint over to the stables, excited to see ellie again.

“ellie!” you yell out as she hops off her horse. with wide eyes, she hurriedly hides behind jesse, taking advantage of his taller height and wider build.

“cover for me.” ellie mutters to jesse.

winded and breathing heavily from the run, you clutch your abdomen and catch your breath, “where’d ellie go? i just saw her.”

jesse smirks, and ellie looks up at him. don’t you dare. don’t you dare. don’t you fucking dare.

he steps aside, revealing ellie, hunched forward in a pathetic attempt to hide from you.

“she’s right here.” jesse smiles, and walks away, staring at ellie as he leaves the both of you alone.

ellie throws a quick glare his away, before standing up straight and clearing her throat, “hey— uh— i was just fixing my— uh..jacket.”

it was a wretched sight to see. ellie’s lame excuse for avoiding you. if it were anyone else, she’d have no problem telling them to ‘fuck off’ and to leave her alone. but with you, she didn’t have the guts to tell you she was avoiding you. why? she didn’t know. maybe she didn’t want to see your feelings hurt.

but you were oblivious to this. it was a regular occurrence for you to miss things and let them go right over your head, but it was because you saw the good in everyone, even ellie.

“how was patrol? see anything interesting?” you pondered to ellie, walking alongside her as she begin her trek back to her house.

“nah, just the same old shit,” ellie speeds up her pace, and you struggle to keep up with her long legs, nearly stumbling over your own.

“so, uh, ellie,” you stammered, “i wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight?”

this was your corny way of asking her on a date, something you’ve been wanting to do for ages.

“uh, yeah—” ellie scratched the back of her neck, “i’m real busy tonight.”

false. ellie’s evening consisted of smoking a joint and immersing herself in volume 14 of her favorite comic book. but she already knew, there was no telling what’d happen if she were to be alone with you.

ellie strictly kept her distance from you and always made sure there were other people around you two while talking. it was her way of being in control. she was terrified of what would happen if her feelings were to rise to the surface and reign sovereignty over her.

“oh okay,” you thought for a moment, “how about tomorrow night?”

“uhh, not available tomorrow either. sorry.” ellie avoided your gaze, instead letting her eyes fall to the ground, but to her inconvenience, her eyes gravitated to the sight of your bare legs underneath those shorts, only imagining what she’d do if she could feel the smooth skin under her fingertips.

ellie pushed her thoughts to the side. this is what she didn’t want. she couldn’t let herself think these vile thoughts. she couldn’t let her guard down. she couldn’t allow herself to trust and be vulnerable. ellie had to control herself, doing whatever means necessary to keep you far, far away.

“hmph, okay. it’s fine,” you frown for a moment before forcing a smile on your face, “maybe another time.”

“mhm, sure.”

as you turn away and head in a different direction, ellie let her eyes watch you walk away, ignoring the tight squeeze in her heart that occurs every time you leave. she knew whatever she did, her feelings for you only grew, scaring her more than any clicker could.

that evening, you prepared the farm animal's last meal for tonight and filled up their water basins. but you couldn’t focus, your mind distracted by that certain green-eyed girl. it was almost wearisome having these many feelings for one person, your mind consumed by her very existence, to the point where you couldn’t even focus on work.

startling yourself, you feel the pointy straws of hay poking your legs as you overfilled minnie’s feeder.

“ugh, minnie,” you groan, “ what the heck am i gonna do with ellie?”

you grabbed the broom, and began sweeping the stray hay that fell onto the floor, letting yourself vent to the cow.

“i know, i know, everyone might think she’s a big ole’ grump,” you begin, “but i don’t see her that way. she’s so brave and she’s so smart! i see her reading her astronomy books all the time.”

you smile at yourself, the image of ellie sitting on the brown wicker chair on the porch pops in your brain. “when it gets late at night, i see her doodling the stars and planets,” you fawn, “shh, don’t tell her i told you that.”

you sigh, leaning your cheek against the top of the broom’s handle, “she’s just so— amazing. a real special person. she deserves everything in the world for all she does.”

as silence fills the barn, you gasp, minnie’s eyes widening in surprise. “maybe i’ll do something big for her. to show her how much she means to me.”

you lean the broom against the wall, “thank you, minnie. for always listening to me.” you rub her head before you scurry out of the barn, heading home to lay out your plans. leaving minnie to chew on the straws of grain.

february 14th

“fucking shit!” ellie yelled, throwing her backpack off her back, creating a loud thud as it landed on the floor of the weapon’s armory shed. today’s patrol was particularly grueling today as she and jesse were confronted with two bloaters and four raiders. after a gruesome fistfight with the raiders, all the men did was loot their weapons and supplies and left them alive with their horses. they were considered extremely lucky, as in most cases, the raiders would’ve left them dead.

“c’mon, we did good out there,” jesse remarked attempting to lighten the mood, but he should’ve known there was no worth in trying to cheer up an already pissed-off ellie.

“yea, talking as if we didn’t almost fucking died today,” ellie snapped, “two separate times.”

“you know what you need?”

“what?”

“to blow off some steam. get cleaned up and head over to the bar,” jesse smirked at her, but she rolled her eyes, not wanting to do anymore socializing after the dreadful day she had.

“not today, jess. i jus’ wanna go home, get this shit off me, and sleep for ten hours.”

“c’mon, you buzzkill. it’s valentines day after all,” he sighed, “you gonna spend it cooped up alone in your room?”

“yup.”

“please, ellie. just come with me. let’s celebrate our win today.”

ellie thought for a moment, and knowing jesse would never take no for an answer for things like these, she reluctantly agreed, “fine.”

unlike ellie, you were beaming, reeling in the ecstatic mood your favorite holiday has brought. valentine’s day was a day for love and celebration in the town of jackson. the local kids would decorate the buildings with red and pink heart streamers and maria always hosted a lovely get-together filled with delicious food, good music, and slow dances.

your heart skipped a beat at the thought of slow dancing with ellie — her hands on your waist, your arms slung around her neck, your bodies swaying ever so slowly along the rhythm of the song.

your hands fixed the pink ribbon in the back of your hair and adjusted some strands of hair to frame your face. you swiped some oil across your lips to give them a sheen gloss and adjusted the long sleeves of your red dress. you felt pretty.

scrambling towards the kitchen, you flip open the white box, doubling checking the cake and making sure it didn’t need any last-minute toppings. satisfied with your baked creation, you closed the box and secured it in your hands, preparing to head out the door and make your way toward the tipsy bison.

during the walk there, you quietly rehearsed the speech you had prepared in your head. you were a bundle of nerves as you anxiously ran through the words over and over again, hoping by the time you made it to the bar, you got it down and wouldn’t make yourself look like a complete fool in front of ellie and her friends.

one of your hands pushed against the doors of the bar, the bell tinkling as you entered the establishment. you greeted a few familiar faces and smiled at barry, the regular bartender. but your mind was set on finding ellie, nothing less, so your eyes scanned the area and settled on a certain brunette who was sitting at a booth, amongst her chattering friends as she sipped on a glass of bourbon.

you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your lips, “ellie!”

the brunette snapped her head at the sound of her name, but she let out a despondent groan after realizing it was you. she wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the patience to deal with you tonight, but nothing could stop you from heading in her direction.

“ah, shit. she’s coming.” ellie takes a long swig of her drink, hoping the alcohol would make this entire ordeal more tolerable.

“be nice, ellie.” dina snapped as you approached their table.

you smiled at everyone — jesse, dina, kelly, evan, ellie — and greeted them with a “happy valentines day everyone!”

everyone smiled and held up their drinks in acknowledgment as your eyes flickered on the girl in front of you. “can i talk to you, ellie? alone?”

a mixture of excitement and nerves flooded your body as you were getting ready to execute your plan.

ellie, however, was growing more worried and worried by each passing second. your little red dress was the first thing that caught her eye. the way that it hugged your figure and sat right above your knees to reveal the bare flesh of your legs made her want to protect you from the staring eyes of all the men in here and beat them into a pulp for thinking whatever perverted thoughts that clouded their head. the second thing that got her attention was the shine of your lips and how it managed to make them look pouty and tempting to kiss, an urge ellie had fought so hard to restrain.

she cleared her throat, and laid back nonchalantly, trying to exude this false sense of confidence, “you can say it here.”

you swallowed thickly, “here? i-in front of everyone?”

“yup.”

looking around nervously, you hesitantly agreed as her friends had their eyes on you, completely immersed in your interaction.

“alright, i guess i’ll just— come out with it.”

you took a deep breath to soothe your nerves. “ellie, we’ve known each other for years now, and in that time, i’ve– uh— grown to really, really like you. i think you’re so pretty and one of the bravest people in town— and— and you’re so intelligent, the way you know so much about space and stuff.”

if someone were to put a tomato next to ellie’s face, the resemblance would be uncanny.

“what i’m trying to say is— is that i really hope you could give me a chance— give us a chance— and let me take you out on a date and show you how happy i can make you,” your voice shook, “i swear, ellie. i’d make you the happiest girl in the world.”

you opened the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake covered in pink frosting with the words ‘be mine’ in red buttercream and held it out to her.

ellie was aghast, and she didn’t know what to say. her mind was going a mile a minute, and numerous emotions were shooting through her body. ellie felt so special and loved, a feeling she rarely ever experienced. she was frozen, yet the next words that would utter in her mouth would leave her regretting ever coming to the bar.

“i’m sorry. i— i don’t think i can do this.”

your brows furrowed, “wh-what do you mean?

“you. you’re too much. you’re always hovering, always around, always calling out my name when you see me. you follow me around and i’m sick of it,” ellie couldn’t stop the words from leaving her mouth, “please, just— leave me alone.”

the moment the words fell from her lips, she immediately felt regret. guilt washed over her the minute she saw your face fall and eyes fill up with tears. fuck. she didn’t know what made her lash out at you like that— perhaps it was the alcohol or the fucked up day this was, but she knew there was no excuse to say any of those things to you.

your lips wobbled, and a tear rolled down your cheek, “ellie williams,” you squeaked, “i never wanna see you again.”

you dropped the boxed cake onto the wooden floor, the frosting flinging everywhere, and ran out of the bar. ellie wanted to run after you so badly, to take you in her arms and kiss your tears away, but she couldn’t. she was a coward.

“congratulations, you just got 1st place for being the biggest, fucking asshole.” jesse snapped, but ellie didn’t bother responding, knowing what he said was true.

ellie didn’t see you for a week after valentines day, and that transition from hearing your voice call her name every morning, feeling your arms wrap around her neck to hug her before she leaves, and enjoying your home-cooked meals to nothing at all was like night and day. it was quiet and silent, and all the color that filled her days was suddenly drained to a mere gray without you.

ellie thought that maybe you were just purposely avoiding her, so she started showing up early at the stables before she left for patrol, but you were never there. then, she started walking around the barns, to see if you were occupying your time by tending to the animals, but no, you weren’t there either.

unbeknownst to ellie, you spent the entire week at home, sulking in your pajamas and shoveling your favorite junk foods in your mouth while watching your favorite 90’s romantic comedy as an effort to mend your broken heart. you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of leaving the four walls of your home after being humiliated by ellie.

after spending your days cooped up at home, you finally felt ready to come back to work at the barn. it was currently early in the morning, and you just opened the gates to the fence, letting minnie, the chickens, and a couple of the sheep graze on the grass.

as ellie walked towards the stables for patrol, she caught a glimpse of you from her peripheral vision and nearly broke her neck doing a double take. she knew it was you because you were the only one in this town who owned a pair of bright, yellow overalls.

there you were, leaning against the wooden fence watching the animals as the sun sat on the edge of the horizon, painting hues of violet and saffron across the sky. ellie appeared next to you, leaning her arms against the wood surface.

“uh, hey.”

you ignored her.

“how’re things?

silence.

“the animals doin’ okay?”

quiet.

“are you just gonna keep ignoring me?” yes.

you sighed and turned to head back into the barns, not bothering to look at her.

“i guess i deserved that.” ellie mutters, watching you walk away. she knew needed to apologize to you and she knew just the way to do it.

the day after ellie’s failed plan of getting you to talk to her, she conjured up a way to apologize to you.

as ellie was coming back from patrol, she carefully held the bouquet of vibrant, golden sunflowers in her hands. she remembered to bring her switchblade to cut them off of their long stems and tie them together into a beautiful bunch.

she knew how much you loved sunflowers, and remembered how you always used to beg her to take you outside of the gates so you could go collect some so you can plant your own.

with a little pep in her step, ellie was confident that you would love the gift she got for you and you’d surely talk to her again in no time. everything would go back to how it was before.

ellie approached the entrance of the barn, seeing you tend to minnie and rubbing the side of her belly. a ghost of a smile made its way onto her lips, and she walked towards you, tapping you on the shoulder.

your head snapped around and looked at her, a neutral expression on your face. no more bright smile.

ellie coughed nervously, and she handed the bouquet of sunflowers to you, “here, these are for you,” you took them from her hands, “they’re pretty, just like you.”

you cautiously looked down at the posy of marigold sunflowers.

she fucking loves them. i could tell already, ellie thought to herself. she had to suppress the proud smirk that was about to appear on her face.

but you did something even ellie couldn’t predict.

you picked one flower from the bunch, and you began feeding it to minnie. minnie took the floret in her mouth, and smacked on it contentedly, clearly enjoying her mid-afternoon snack.

as minnie chomped on the rest of the bouquet, you turned your heel and left ellie alone to her thoughts.

“god, i’m so dumb,” ellie groans, and she peers at the small brown mammal, “at least someone likes them,” she comments as minnie looks at her with big, brown eyes.

the next morning, ellie came to the stables early, hoping you’d be there, and to her surprise, you were.

ellie had came up with a new game plan to apologize to you. her first mistake with the bouquet was that she was trying to ‘woo’ you with gifts, but maybe what you needed was for her to just be honest with you and to open up. that was what ellie spent the rest of her night doing, writing a deep letter about her feelings for you and how sorry she is for telling you all those horrible things.

as usual, you were with shimmer, brushing her coat and making sure she was groomed. from the corner of your eye, you could see ellie coming towards you, and you braced yourself.

she stopped in front of you and handed you a red envelope with your name on it. taking it from her hands, she smiles at you and takes shimmer’s leads from you, gently guiding her away.

ellie took the time to put on shimmer’s saddle and to pack her bag with some extra treats for her during patrol, but she couldn’t help but think of your reaction to her letter. she imagined the smile that graced your face as you opened the letter and saw the little stickers adorning the border of the paper and reading over the black ink.

but ellie was wrong. very, very wrong.

as ellie turned her head to sneak a peek at you, she was startled to see you already looking straight at her. maintaining eye contact, you ripped up the letter and tossed it in the pile of horseshit. you brushed off your hands and walked away, feeling accomplished by your petty deed.

ellie turned to shimmer, “i guess i should’ve seen that one coming.”

after a couple of days contemplating what to do with you, ellie decided enough was enough and that she was going to confront you, no matter what.

the sun had already set, and the moon had overshadowed the dark, night sky. ellie climbed up the stairs of your house, and pressed three loud knocks against your door, adjusting the straps of the guitar gig bag on her shoulders.

at first, she thought you weren’t going to answer the door, but after a momentary silence followed by a couple of sounds of shuffling, the door swung open.

ellie assumed you were about to go to bed, as evidenced by your oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants hugging your hips.

“hi,” you greeted, the sound of your voice surprising ellie after not having heard it for a while.

“hey,” ellie replied, “can i come in?”

you move aside, giving her room to step inside your home.

“where are your parents?” ellie queries, knowing they’d usually be home around this time.

“upstairs, asleep,” you nudged your head towards the hallway, “we’ll talk in my room.”

ellie follows behind you as you lead the way to your bedroom, opening the door and plopping down on your bed. she closes your bedroom door and slowly walks around, almost as if she’s scared to make any sudden movements.

she finally sits on your desk chair in front of you, taking off her guitar bag and setting it down on the floor next to her.

you weren’t sure what compelled you to finally talk to ellie and let her in your home, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease and anxiety. there was no telling what she was really here for.

“i came here because i wanted to apologize,” ellie murmured, “i’ve been trying to apologize for a couple of days now and i’m gonna keep on trying because what i did was really, really shitty.”

you were silent for a brief moment, “...yeah. it was shitty.”

ellie sighed, “i’ll apologize a million times if you want me to.”

“ellie— you don’t get it. you humiliated me in front of the whole town,” your voice cracked, “i don’t think i could forgive you that easily.”

her heart squeezed in your chest seeing the tears well up in your eyes and hearing the little sniffles coming from your nose. it was her fault you were hurt. she did this.

ellie got up and sat on your bed next to you, letting her feelings overcome her and allowing herself to wrap her arms around your frame, holding you close as you cried into her hoodie.

you pulled away from her chest, looking up at her with glossy eyes, “i was nothing but nice to you, els. you could’ve told me something if i was bothering you,” you wiped a tear, “i would’ve left you alone.”

ellie sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, her entire demeanor softening as she was consumed by your presence, “i didn’t want you to leave me alone.”

“huh?” you gave her a confused look.

“look, i’m not really good at showing my feelings. whenever i try to express how i feel or whatever, it goes sideways and i end up fucking up,” ellie explained, “i really do like you, a whole shit ton. i love everything you do for me and i love how you’re always there and how you wear these crazy bright colors and how you talk to the animals in that one baby voice.”

heat rose to your cheeks and it was impossible to hide the blush that spread across your nose.

“i want to be with you,” she confessed, “i just get terrified of being vulnerable and opening up. love makes you do crazy shit and i don’t know— i hate not being in control.”

you were silent, thinking carefully of what to say next. ellie was internally begging for you to say something, anything.

“love means taking risks and being out of your comfort zone, els,” you whispered quietly, “take the leap.”

ellie soaked in your words. take the leap. take the leap. take. the. leap.

her hand cupped your cheek and she leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, tasting the salt of your tears. ellie’s lips moved gently against yours, not wanting to show any urgency toward you.

she felt your hand creep up to the side of her neck, rubbing against her soft skin as you deepen the kiss.

ellie pulls away, leaning her forehead against yours, “i’m sorry, baby. please, i can’t bear being without you,” she whispers, “i’m so, so sorry. i’ll never be an asshole to you again.”

“i’ll forgive you this one time, williams,” you murmur, “but don’t take my kindness for weakness.”

ellie pulled away, taking her acoustic guitar out of her bag and placing it in her lap.

“here, let me sing you a song i know you’ll love.”

ellie’s fingers strummed the strings, playing a chord.

i’ve never known someone like you

tangled in love, stuck by you

from the glue

her voice sang the lyrics to your favorite song, eliciting that beaming smile she’d missed so badly.

don’t forget to kiss me

or else you’ll have to miss me

i guess i’m stuck forever by the glue

a tear rolled down your cheek, as you were overwhelmed with joy at the site of her singing. something not too many had the privilege of experiencing.

finding the right words to use for this song

i have you in mind

so it won’t take so long

never thought i’d find you

but you’re here and so i love you

as the lyrics left ellie’s lips, she knew she’d chosen the right song to sing for you. as this song described everything you both have gone through, being attached to each other like glue.

i’m not wrong when i say i’ve been stuck

by the glue onto you

i’ve been stuck by glue

right onto you

i’ve been stuck by glue

the song came to an end, and ellie placed the guitar down, feeling unnerved from you watching her sing for the first time. you sniffle and smiled, throwing your arms around her and hugging her tightly.

“i loved it! you were amazing, els!” you quipped, inciting a small laugh from ellie.

“glad you liked it, babe.”

you pull away slightly to face her, “gosh, how i missed you,” you exasperate, “it was torture having to ignore you for days.”

ellie lets out a laugh, “oh yeah? if anything, i think out of the both of us, you’re the meaner one.”

you smile and shrug your shoulders, “what can i say, williams? you bring out that side to me.”

ellie smiles and pecks your cheek, “and you bring out the softer side to me, baby,” she points out, “isn’t it ironic? we’re total opposites yet we bring these sides out of each other.”

“yeah, it is a bit funny,” you giggle, “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader angst #ellie x fem!reader #ellie x reader fluff #ellie williams x reader fluff #Spotify

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soon-palestine · 1 month

Text

Israel, the world’s most innocent country, fell victim to a horrific attack from Iran with zero reported casualties on the same day Israel killed dozens of civilians in Gaza.

Israel had been minding its own business, quietly bombing hospitals, schools, universities, mosques, and an embassy, when the Iranian regime launched their outrageous attack for no apparent reason. Thankfully, the US and UK scrambled jets to defend Israeli airspace because it’s wrong to bomb countries in the Middle East, unless your name is Israel, in which case you can do all the bombing you want.

Every British and American ship in the region is now in grave danger and the risk of terror attacks on our soil has surely increased, but you will be relieved to know our countries have not benefitted in any way from our intervention. Personally, I can’t think of a better way for Israel to spend our tax money.

Our leaders have condemned Iran in the strongest possible terms, which is confusing because I thought we were supposed to remain ambiguous and say we’re investigating the matter when such an attack occurs. Perhaps this is one of those rules that only applies to Israel though.

When informed of the attack, a calm and rational Suella Braverman screamed: “WAR! I WANT WAR!” and when she’d stopped hyperventilating, she added: “This must be the end of western backsliding on Israel,” because she thinks we have not been sufficiently supportive of their genocide. Anyone who is not on the same side of the argument as Suella Braverman must ask serious questions about themselves.

Iran’s unprovoked attack involved giving Israel adequate warning and launching 30-year-old missiles, 99% of which were intercepted, and then saying the matter is closed unless Israel escalates further. The fact Iran would consider retaliating to further escalation from Israel shows just extreme these lunatics are.

Among Iran’s targets was the Israeli air base from which the missiles that struck its embassy were launched, killing 13 on April 1. As of yet, we have no indication as to why Iran carried out the attack, but we’re going to tell you it’s because they want to start World War III. Psychos.

Conspiracy theorists have suggested it’s actually Benjamin Netanyahu who wants escalation, but it’s unclear why the man who faces political oblivion, and possibly jail, would be incentivised to draw his allies into the fight and cause everyone to forget his many war crimes.

Israel, the country that definitely does not want war, has vowed an “unprecedented” response against Iran which will probably kill many more than zero people. If Iran expresses disapproval at Israel’s next mass murder, it’s because they’re trying to destabilise the region. At this point, we’ll have no choice but to help Israel do to Iran what we’ve spent six months helping them do to Gaza - launch precision strikes that destroy 70% of the buildings in the country and leave survivors living in tents.

Worryingly, we’ve just discovered at the most convenient moment that Iran has enough uranium to build 12 nuclear bombs. If it were true that Iran had so much weapon-grade uranium, it would be incredibly stupid to attack them, but we’re going to insist we must attack them because we’re weapon-grade idiots - and we think you are too.

Please just switch your brain off and accept what you’re being told, you simpletons! What matters is rich people can afford nuclear bunkers if this all goes horribly wrong. In the meantime, you can look forward to lots of exciting stories in the media about bringing back conscription and describing how you are likely to die in humanity's final war. Are you looking forward to radiation sickness and nuclear winter? Because they sound like brilliant fun! x

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this outstanding piece of journalism as much as I did, you can support my work here:

#palestine #gaza #free palestine #journalism

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tomriddleslove · 4 months

Text

What’s left of me?

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.

A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻

Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.

Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo

18 days.

18 days till you would be finished with all of this.

Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.

You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.

You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.

There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.

Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.

To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.

In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.

The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.

You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.

Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.

In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.

Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.

But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.

Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.

“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.

By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.

It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.

“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.

Wideye potion User Guidance:

Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.

You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.

If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.

You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.

You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.

Failure. Nobody.

You gritted your teeth and carried on working.

You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.

You could carry on for longer, right?

You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.

The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.

“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.

Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.

“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.

“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.

You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.

"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.

Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.

How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.

You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.

“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.

“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.

“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.

Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.

Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.

Not just one, but a few.

Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.

“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.

He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.

Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.

You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.

"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.

Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.

“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.

Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.

"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.

"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.

Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.

“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?

“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.

Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."

After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

Shit.

You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."

Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.

You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.

“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.

“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.

Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"

You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"

Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"

But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.

“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.

"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.

Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”

You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”

Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.

“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.

"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."

He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”

Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.

“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.

You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?

“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.

He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.

“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.

Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.

He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.

It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.

As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.

With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.

He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.

“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.

You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.

“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.

Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.

You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.

“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.

“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.

He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.

You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.

Just friends, right?

He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.

The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.

But for now, he didn’t care.

Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.

Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.

He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.

Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.

You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader comfort

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andraxicated · 11 months

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲

Pairings: Gojo x f! reader

a/n: this one's inspired by stargirl interlude because it had a chokehold on me since last year (also saw an art depicting the song like damn), might make a masterlist/event of these pieces that's inspired by explicit media hmm

gojo never knew why a person like you is working as one of his clan's maids. his six eyes sensed it the first time he saw you. the amount of cursed energy surging in your body is comparable to the average sorcerer. you already possess the minimum requirement to be qualified in jujutsu society, yet why are you here holding a tape measure and draping expensive fabric over his naked body?

satoru had to bite back a moan when your fingers ghosted over his stomach but the little sound he made didn't escape your ears. you momentarily stopped at his waistline, glancing up and making eye contact with your young master.

oh how you looked so delectable in satoru's eyes.

'so this is what you'd look like if you were sucking on my dick' he thought. and for someone who has the six eyes, his senses were on fire at that moment, something stirring in his pants with the strong flood of lust.

it was all because of your eyes that the sun glazed upon, lashes fluttering, and the cute questionable look on your face that appeared for a moment. then you got back to what you were doing as if nothing happened.

he noticed your shaky exhale though.

his member was growing beneath the kimono, looking up to the ceiling and biting his lip to control himself. but each touch on his body has him reeling as he suddenly let out a thunderous cough. your fingers froze in shock just at his knees.

satoru smacks his lips. "um-well I think that's enough for today. I'll just send the remaining measurements."

"yes young master" you reply as you immediately drew back and helped remove the kimono on his shoulders, satoru shrugging it off and putting his clothes back on.

he looks at you for a second. "I'll be back a few weeks later. Just in time for that old man's birthday." he says while wearing his shoes, his attention turning to scan your lowered body.

feeling the gaze of someone, you met his eyes once more. the inexplicable tension that lingered between the two of you filled the room. eyes speaking to each other amid the silence, attempting to know what the other was feeling.

then the six eyes sense someone approaching. satoru slides the door and exits without looking. one thing he noticed was your eyes, mesmerizing for some kind of reason. 'how do I describe it?' satoru asks himself, clutching his chin and letting his mind do the work.

he concludes that he found it to be full of life, a refreshing sight to look at amidst the dead eyes of the other servants.

he left you clenching the silk fabric, inhaling and exhaling in an attempt to hold back the pooling arousal. then how do you describe his gaze? you tell yourself satoru would never look at you like that but something inside you tells it was lustful.

gojo longed for you just as much to the point he's actually waiting for an old geezer's birthday party. counting the days 'til he sees you once more, to lock eyes and finally make a move on you—

"fuck" gojo groans, tapping his head to stop you from plaguing his thoughts. he's too damn busy saving the world to even think about a girl he just met. but he shivers in his seat when he remembers how you touched his body with your deft fingers and how ecstatic his heart gets that his dick responds by rising. is it too much to think about how good you'd be in bed?

in the quiet confine of his office, he began to pull his pants down while the hem of his shirt gets taken between his teeth, muffling the huffs of breath he makes. he's a moaner so of course he'll silence himself.

"oh fuck fuck fuck." he takes out his hard cock, wrapping his hand around it and hissing at the contact. satoru was supposed to say your name but he forgot to ask for it with the way his life being a sorcerer was hectic. nonetheless, he continues pumping up and down, closing his eyes and imagining it's your sweet pussy enveloping him. "you take me so good" satoru coos.

your quiet self turned into a cockdrunk whore would be his biggest fantasy, he'd be asking you if it'd hurt yet he'll go on anyway if you said yes coz he knows a good girl like you can take it. your kind always takes him the best.

a grin broke out on his face as he fists it faster, squeezing and tightening his hold like a real pussy would, imagining every filthy thing you'd do just to get him off. and that's where his mind created the idea of you masturbating to the thought of him too, touching yourself at your private quarters and craving to be filled with his cock.

it tips him off badly that his eyes squeezed shut beneath his blindfold, hips thrusting into his fist as his hand slides fast on the sensitive member until a muffled moan of "oh oh oh!" gets out at the same time as sticky white substance trickles out of the bulbous head.

he's so lost in his fantasy that he didn't have time to grab the tissue sitting nearby him. gojo sighs, looking at the mess he made on his hand, asking himself why is he pining so much for a nameless maid.

he then reaches for his phone, dialing a dreaded number and waiting for it to pick up. and when they did, he didn't bother listening to the greeting as it was cut off by his straightforward request.

"that maid who assisted me last time, assign her to me. i don't need a team of servants, just that girl is enough. i'll also be coming back to the estate sooner than I expected...what's her name again?"

said maid was getting herself busy at an ungodly hour. you were still so lost in your own orgasm that you just blankly stare at the wetness between your thighs. your kimono hiked up to your waist as you sit on your bed, flustered that you just did something dirty.

your shaky fingers try to touch the puffy folds again but you flinch at the slightest bit, wanting to enter once more to quench your thirst but you're too overstimulated at this point.

you plop back onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling and remembering the man who you thought about the whole time you were fingering yourself. masturbation clearly wasn't enough by the way you're immediately clenching your thighs.

"satoru~" you meekly whimper, testing how your tongue would pronounce his name if he's fucking you. and it had you squealing like a teenager with your pussy throbbing, toes curled, and feet kicking.

you needed the real deal. and luckily, both of you were waiting for the same thing.

it was finally the day of the birthday party, a garden one to which gojo scoffs at the pompous herd of people in the courtyard. he could destroy all of this in a flick of a finger but he decides not to spoil a dying man's last year because he has better things to do.

he trudges off to the renovated kitchen, designed to be modernized at his request, contrasting to the rest of the house. whistling with hands in his pockets, luckily, he sees you there decorating the cake of the day diligently. a wicked smile suddenly crept up his lips, tongue smoothing over as he approaches you, unable to conceal the giddy grin he was sporting.

"hey. didn't know you were quite the patissier." satoru leans on the counter, watching you push down the pipe filled with white cream to create decorative toppings. This innocent scene in front of him turns dirty thanks to his sick, perverted mind. You were just doing your job diligently yet it turns him on so much, his member was already painfully hard beneath his kimono.

He's doing his best not to whip it out and make you suck on it.

"do you need something, young master? i apologize that i cannot attend to you right now despite the arrangement. i was suddenly in charge of making the cake since it was-"

"they dumped this on you because they're too lazy to bake a fucking cake. you're getting picked on by the elders, shouldn't you be angry?" he asks and you don't reply as you're intently focused on the cake. one mistake and it could cost you your livelihood.

satoru sighs and passes a hand through his hair, looking at your figure fixated on your job. it looks like you have no reason to entertain this man any longer. "damn and I thought we were getting close" satoru said with false disappointment, watching your eyes slowly look at him and back to your work. he smirked, going around the corner of the counter and at your back where you could feel his large presence looming in, making you feel uneasy for you to suddenly have a shaky hand.

you could feel him closer, fear mixed in with anticipation and satoru senses that very well. he startles you by placing both of his hands on your hips. he also notices how the rise and fall of your chest quickened along with your heartbeat, he thinks it's cute for you to be so nervous around him.

"what happened? why don't you continue making the cake?"

you shook your head, trying to get his mental tricks out of your mind but his physical touch has you whipped. his slender fingers tease you by playing your body like a piano, moving upwards from your waist to settle at the underside of your breasts. your breath hitches, thighs clenching to form some kind of relief in this torture.

"answer me"

"I can't" You breathe out, feeling yourself about to either faint or cry.

"why not?"

"because you're touching me. it's not...appropriate."

satoru let out a "tsk" sound, suddenly wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder, wanting to take a peek at your face but you're not letting him. "then is it appropriate for you touch yourself at the thought of your employer? your young master?"

you don't even wonder how he knew that but your eyes got big and whipped your head to look at him, fearing his next choice of words or his criticism of your actions. you might actually get kicked out of the household and live in the streets.

the thought of having no roof above your head scares you that tears spring up to your eyes, throat constricting. satoru's hand move to wipe those tears away, a frown on his face when he saw you about to break down.

"what are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours? hmm?" he coos closer at you, prompting you to speak. you let a shaky breath first before looking at him intently, bowing down in regret as you apologize.

"I'm sorry, it was inappropriate and I'll make sure it won't happen again-"

"yeah, I'll be mad if I go to your room and find out you're touching yourself." You freeze at his words and satoru had to bite back a laugh at how much he's affecting you. you're just too damn cute, he wanted to pinch your cheeks and smother you with kisses but he'll have time for that later.

"you know why?" he asks directly at you as you shook your head not knowing where this conversation is going.

"because it means I'm not pleasuring you. so for you not to do that anymore, I need to touch you and show you that you need me to feel good. to satisfy that itch between your thighs."

he motions at your clenched thighs as embarrassment filled you. he was too straightforward with his dirty words. your nails dug into the counter, scared of the outcome yet at the same time excited.

"you've taken care of me since I arrived here, you're the only person I care about in this house. so let me be good to you (y/n)." he finally knows your name, and satoru considers himself to be incredibly whipped because out of all the names he knows, yours sound the best.

"w-what are you doing?" you ask, feeling him press his growing member on your butt, rubbing and letting out soft mewls that went straight to your ear. he began grinding upwards with a roll of his body as if getting off on your clothed figure alone. but satoru was a greedy man and he wasn't going to settle for your held-back moans and untouched cunt. he wants you fucked up—dumb, incoherent, cock-hungry—on the kitchen counter with a chance of being seen, dripping with his precious seed that's supposed to be given to a woman with a better pedigree.

"prepping you" he replies.

and the thought of giving out blood pressure and heart attacks by indulging in you gets him all giddy. it's a total win for him when he suddenly rips your kimono with his bare hands, catching you off guard with your wide eyes and open mouth, quickly slipping his tongue in and molding for a french kiss.

it burned your desire even further as you tilt your head upward to get a better taste of him. your inexperienced technique was no match for his skills and gojo smiled when he realizes how sloppy of a kisser you are, loving the sweet taste of innocence on his tongue.

his lips felt plump against yours as is your folds that his long fingers are ghosting over. he then cups it, making you pull out of the kiss yet he attaches his lips over yours again, rendering you breathless.

"be quiet. wouldn't want someone to see this won't you?" he teases as he rips your clothing even further. the stretches of fabric hurt your ears as your whimpers of disapproval were long buried in his mouth.

you were then left naked and cold despite the warmth he was giving by pressing his body onto you, eliminating any space that his bulge sticks to your ass too much. satoru notices this and decides it was time for you to get all sweaty and messy. he has to fuck you right then and there as his dick decides.

the tip of his fingers prods your hole slowly, whispering sweet nothings as you squirm about how it was too big and long. gojo wanted to scoff at that and say something mean but he figured he should be good to you as you are to him.

"look at you, good girl. taking my finger so well, it's better than yours isn't it?" he nuzzles his nose at your neck, biting and sucking at the skin as he adds another finger to which you scream, finding the penetration of two fingers a bit too much. he doesn't even care if you make noise anymore. gojo firmly believes that you shouldn't be holding back moans when you're feeling good during sex, that's why he's going to unravel the slut inside you slowly at a time.

"no, satoru! take it out i'm too stuffed!" you held his wrist to push it away but it doesn't budge one bit. he smirks at how cute you are trying to overpower him and he pushes them deeper, watching you let out a loud moan.

"you called me satoru, i like it. but how are you going to take my cock when a mere finger is too much for you? huh?" he taunts, massaging your walls and pulling out to rip a whine out of you.

"i can take it! i can take your cock!" you suddenly exclaim and satoru takes it as a cue to start pulling it out of its confines.

"why the sudden change of heart?" the hard member twitches in his hand, leaking precum, begging to feel the warmth of your walls, and satoru hisses once he aligns the tip to your hole that's comparingly smaller. "answer my fucking question slut"

he's gonna fucking destroy you and both of you know it.

"owh!" his large hand met your ass, making you jolt in surprise before you reply. "coz it feels good when something's inside me" your voice went smaller with each word that gojo almost didn't quite catch what you were saying, but he did and it rose a smile on his face.

"i love honest girls" he says and pushes in with one quick thrust, opening your cunt wide open and devouring every space inside you, filling you to the brim with a sweep that has your mind reeling. gojo feels insanely thick inside you, giving pain with pleasure that has your pussy pulsing, evoking a low moan from him as he bit your neck.

"ah! ahhh! satoru~" you moan as he starts to move but you're too tight around him that it takes all of his willpower not to slam you on the counter and use you like a fleshlight.

"sweetheart, you're a virgin?" he pants, stopping his movements to let you adjust and feel what it's like to cockwarm. you nod at him shyly and he kisses your cheek then your lips, breaking off the heated exchange with a pinch to your nipple. "you just get so much better. i think i'm in love with you"

gojo then starts to pull out only to rut inside you like an animal, bumping you against the counter that your nails dig and scratch painfully on the flat surface, loosely holding onto the edge for dear life as you scream with each penetration of his big cock.

"satoru! y-you're too much I'm gonna break! aw! oh!" he only laughs at your moans while gripping your hips, giving him good control of how he wants your body to be. he could honestly go worse than this, he could be merciless and not care about your limits but for your first time he'll take it easy on you.

"lift your ass, give me a good arch sweetheart." gojo instructs and you follow, sticking your ass out for him as he pumps in deeper, hitting your sweet spot like he couldn't stop. you could even hear how sexy his moans are along with his balls slapping against you.

"y'know I like sweets"

"what?" you spoke out of confusion and he suddenly swipes a finger on the icing, poking the soft texture deep enough to destroy it, bits and pieces crumbling down in front of you like how hours of effort have been in vain.

you could care less but your heart still dropped, kinda hurt how you made it all pretty only to be destroyed by gojo with a swish of his hand.

he cooed at how your expression looked sad yet he dismissed it by fucking you harder, thinking somehow the pleasure will win you over. "it's just a fucking cake to them. they won't appreciate your efforts no matter what you do, so don't bother."

"i know-" you were supposed to say more but gojo's hand suddenly shoved icing into your mouth, filling it with his large fingers to shut you up yet the skin slapping was no means quiet.

"there's—ohhh! ah~ a—a person coming. they must be looking for me" gojo tries to make coherent sentences between moans, too lost in the feeling of your cunt spasming on him and letting him ease his cock in. your virgin pussy was too good for that it secretly had his eyes rolling back onto his head, the tips of his ears red along with his flush cheeks.

gojo takes his fingers out of your mouth, letting you breathe so you don't black out. "t-then stop! we'll get caught!" you tap his arm, trying to get him off you but you only push him deeper from behind, making him moan.

he may not care about what happens when you get caught because he's always going to be off the hook, yet you know it won't end nicely for a maid like you. fear crept into your body as your shaky eyes could only wait for the figure to come in and see you debauched.

"i'll try to be quiet too" satoru's other hand went over to the cake once more, swiping the white cream to be put at the top of your sensitive peaks. you shiver at the cold sticky feeling. "ready? his head rests on your shoulder and looks up grinning with his blindfolded eyes.

"i wanna see you satoru. take off the blindfold." you whisper and satoru gives a cheeky smile before doing what you wanted.

it was the prettiest shade of blue you've ever seen. like a rare diamond that you would love to stare at forever because it's yours. pulling you in deeper until the only thing you're thinking about is him.

"looks like someone's forgetting who's in charge" gojo whispers back amidst your lovestruck gaze at him. he was used to that kind of gaze thrown at him but there's something different about yours that he wishes he was the only one who receives it.

gojo clears his throat, embarrassingly got lost in your eyes, and had a little daydream of his own. he smiles and looks at the icing melting on your boobs. "oops! gotta clean them up!" he giddily attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, licking and toying them around with his tongue as his way of being quiet. he pinches the other one and pulls, squeezing the mounds to make it harder for you to keep quiet.

you had your eyes shut as gojo was busy sucking on your nipple, addicted to watching your face morph into pleasure and the feeling of your softness between his teeth. he gave kisses to both of the mounds, lapping the area around them while he was thrusting at a slow yet deep pace, one that elicits sobs from you each time he plunges back.

"satoru-! i'm-hmph! ohhhh i-ahhhh" you were beginning to tighten like crazy. as you started reciprocating his thrusts and gojo knew you had to feel him rough to get off. he was very reluctant to leave those peaks, giving them a long final suck before cupping both of them to return to his proper position facing your back.

he was close too, he could feel it coming, he could feel you too.

and so his cock pulls out at an agonizing pace to switch to pounding you into the counter. staccato moans came out from your lips and you had to cover both hands over your mouth to keep it. gojo didn't like that and decided it was time to reveal the little game he played just to taste your titties.

"it's okay, be loud as much as you want. they're in the courtyard having some fun" he says, fixated on your ass jiggling with each thrust, your walls constricting against his cock and that spongy spot he keeps hitting like a goal.

the loud chorus of the happy birthday song began to echo with so many guests outside and it just made you remember how disrespectful you were being, getting fucked by the young master with the sun still out, nonetheless in a space that anyone could walk into.

"i can't!" you choked out words the best you can and satoru scoffed at how ridiculous you were being. he just wanted to hear your fucking moans, wanted to hear how good he makes you feel. if this rhythm isn't enough then he starts to go hard befitting of his stamina, successfully ripping a scream out of you.

he laughed, pushing his slick-covered cock in. "listen, there was no one around in the first place, sweetheart. you don't think i planned out all of this to fuck you in the kitchen just for someone to come ruin it?" each snap of his hips makes you lose your mind, letting him take you from behind as you scramble to organize your thoughts about what he just said. you wanted to look back at him and ask why did he do all of this but the feeling of his large cock surrenders you to him.

"s-stop! ahhh! it-it's coming!" you feel a wave of pleasure washing over you, coming from your center that's still accommodating his girth. it was different than when you do it yourself, it hit hard like a truck that released all your pent-up sexual frustrations, bringing you to a state of clarity yet making you limp like a lifeless ragdoll that's waiting for its owner to stop playing. especially, your poor legs that stand on so little strength.

your arms gave up with your head and laid flat against the counter, not knowing when was this going to stop because your pussy feels incredibly sore each time he slams in. gojo then began to whine like a bitch, saying things about how you're so tight and he's so lucky to get to feel your pussy first. not that anyone will come next.

"fuck fuck!-(y/n)! ohhhh i-i'm coming! take it you fucking slut!" he groans, surprising you by pinching your clit and swirling his hand around your pussy, thrusting with his ass clenched so hard that you actually think the cockhead knocked on your womb with the way you lurched forward for the final time.

"happy birthday to me...feels like my fucking birthday." he mutters to himself, spilling his warm seed deep inside you, watching some of it begin to spurt out despite still keeping you plugged. he wanted to plant himself inside you as a claim of territory, making it clear to you and everyone that from now on, you're his.

"i feel full" you babble and relish at the feeling of being blessed by the gojo heir's seed, some of it already trickling down your thighs. "so tired. feels like I'm going to pass out"

and you did pass out from the fatigue of waking up early to learn a recipe for nothing—and from getting railed on the countertop for the first time.

this won't be the last time as gojo's keeping you for himself. he never wanted anything from this household except for you, his handmaid. so he's gonna call ijichi for a ride, get someone to pack your stuff, and keep you nice and warm in the comfort of his own home.

he's taking you to jujutsu high not for the reason of actually making you useful with your cursed energy. you're way too pretty to fight ugly curses anyway. and he's pretty sure, you would love to have your life turn around and become a princess, his princess.

after all, it was his handmaiden's fantasy.

#gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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vqlluna · 5 months

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CLOSURE ━━━ REMUS LUPIN

summary: it's been years since you confessed your love to Remus, and he couldn't reciprocate it. It's been years since your days at Hogwarts ended, and you're now recouped back with your schoolmates for a holiday party. What could go wrong?

pairings: f!reader x remus lupin, angst, fluff,

a/n: ngl this is partly based on the beginning of my parent's little love story, and of course, this is based on closure by taylor swift (and basically the whole evermore album)

❝ IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME, and seeing the shape of your name just spells out pain. It wasn't right the way it all went down, looks like you know that now... ❞

You quickly ran down the stairs of your apartment, trying your best to fit the silver hoop through your ear without harming yourself. You tripped your way into your incredibly small kitchen, shuffling at the island counter, which only was filled with months-old letters, bills, and notices, trying your best to find a specific invitation.

Mary Macdonald had been your best schoolmate during your years at Hogwarts, and despite, by now a few years, of barely speaking to her or anyone in her crowd, she'd been so kind as to invite you to a wonderfully large and fancy Christmas Party.

And it was for this very reason as to why you stood in your most expensive dress, dug out from the back of your closet. You wiped your sweaty hands on the velvet fabric before delving back into the mountain of parchment searching for the envelope that held every single piece of information you neglected to put to memory that would get you into that party.

You were desperate to spend your Holidays not stuck in your parent's home for once. But it was only once you accidentally stumbled into a large stack as every single piece of paper collapsed on the floor, that you realized who might actually be there. You carefully picked up small clumps, replacing them back on the counter as you eyed the very last one.

It was quite dusty with small water stains sprinkled and it was extremely crumpled. Your jaw clenched as you picked it up and placed it at the edge of the counter. You inhaled a large breath before snapping your head in a different direction as you finally saw the invitation in your peripheral.

You ran to your living area grabbed your purse and ran back as you gripped the envelope. As expected, you've managed to make yourself late. You waddled on over in your heels to the small entranceway and picked up your coat and wand from the coat rack.

Maybe in a moment of weakness or a flood of memories, you looked back to the dirty crinkled piece of parchment in your kitchen. It was a big party, there would barely be any chance you'd see him, you assured yourself. And in fact even if you do, you can do you best to avoid him, you planned.

You shook your head and stepped back towards the island. Gripping the envelope tightly you shoved it into the pocket of your coat.

But if by any chance you ended up speaking with him tonight, you'd surely give it back, you couldn't possibly bear the weight of that note anymore, and you surely had no use for it now.

Taking a deep sigh you adjusted the collar of your jacket, patting now your hair in the mirror before exiting your old townhome. You locked the door behind you and shoved your hands into your pockets. You squeezed the envelope inside it almost in comfort before you apparated yourself away.

❝ Yes, I got your letter, yes, I'm doing better. It cut deep to know ya', right to the bone... ❞

After you found yourself apparated to an area which you knew was near your designation you crunched the snow beneath your heels as you walked, almost aimlessly, to the party. Upon seeing the large estate you felt wildly unprepared and under-dressed. Least to say it was a luxurious event.

You stumbled up the steps, nervously searching through the vast halls, filled with fishes of people, to find a pair of, wanted, familiar eyes. You found yourself in the gigantic main room, as witches and wizards conversed among themselves, grabbing the treats and drinks off the trays of staff.

You were stopped as one of the waiters offered you a truffle, interested in the beautiful dessert you picked it up and turned around as you shoved it in your face, only to accidentally bump into another figure. The woman you'd crashed into turned around, their bright red hair flashing your eyes. As you got a good look at the person your face fell.

"Oh my—Merlin! y/n is that you?" she excitedly asked, disregarding your muttered apology and quickness in trying to whip back around. You cringed and turned back around on your heel giving a fake smile.

"Lily—my Godric, hi," you breathed.

Lily slowly parted from her current conversation to partake in one with you. "Well I haven't seen you in forever! Where are you, what do you do now?" she questioned.

You wiped your sweaty palms once again on the fabric of your dress, "I, uhm, I live in Chudley now," you chuckled nervously "I'm an artist, a painter actually."

The red-headed girl looked at you in such awe, and you were certainly in disbelief as to why. "Wow y/n, have you sold much? Featured in a gallery ever?" she was completely interested. It was then that you remembered that she was always like this, but it'd been so long that you'd forgotten what it was like to have someone engaged in what you had to say.

Your smile finally picked up a bit, "Yes, actually, got my first gallery showing about a week ago, it's still up for a couple of months! But uh, regarding sales, it's enough to keep the lights on, y'know?"

"Well I think it's absolutely lovely that you're working your dream, that's really great," Lily appreciated, "I'm assuming you're trying to find Mary, come along this way, she with the rest of them!" she waved on, but your feet were planted in the ground.

You gulped down the last tiny bit of your truffle, you eyebrows knitted together as you stuttered, "The—the uhm, the rest of them?"

Lily's excitement softened at your mutters, "Oh you're still—" she said slightly surprised but she cut herself off in fear of saying something offensive, "He hasn't arrived yet," she assured, then lowering her voice in a whisper, "We're not sure if he's coming, it's around that time."

You grew a small frown, "Ah," you hummed, "He uh, well," you dug out the letter from your pocket, waving it in front of Lily as she read the senders name printed in the corner. Her lips pressed together as she nodded, giving you relief as she disregarded it and intended to act like she didn't see the letter, nor knew anything of the situation guiding you through the nets of attendees.

You took a large breath of bravery through your nose as you slowly approached the circle of very familiar faces. You first caught Marlene Mckinnon's attention, catching you in her view her eyebrows lifted as her mouth formed a small O.

Following her gaze, Sirius finally saw you, his eyes widened in utter shock as he absentmindedly nudged James beside him. Looking at the disturbance James' cheeks puffed up with air before exhaling it out. Dorcas, who stood at the other end beside Marlene watched the scene and you could see her mouth the word "shit," at everyone's upset.

How were you to approach a group of old friends who now semi-hated you but yet felt incredibly sorry for you? Instead of stressing over the others, you focussed on how Mary squealed with joy upon seeing you. She slightly waddled a run in her heels over to you as she embraced you warmly. "You came!"

You scrunched your face with a grin as you pulled back, "Of course, Mary! Needed to get out of the house anyways," you smiled, she put you at ease even while Marlene looked at you so skeptically and as James and Sirius exchanged glasses before downing the rest their glasses of champagne in their hands.

"Well if it isn't y/n y/l," Marlene smirked, it completely confused you because while the rest of her face seemed elated to see you, her eyes seemed to almost be throwing daggers at you. The rest of the women quickly warmed up to you as you entered the conversation, though James and Sirius kept almost unnervingly quiet. Above all, you noticed the absence of Peter and him.

Finally, the conversation began to smooth, the group being able to get quite a few good hearty laughs from you. Though the ends of your Hogwarts days were a touchy subject that everyone mindlessly agreed not to talk about, you all got caught up in reminiscing on events previous to it.

But it soon came to a close as Peter ran up, "I've got a surprise f'you all!" he exclaimed gripping the back of James' shoulder as he squeezed himself between the pair of men before he looked across the circle to you. He opened his mouth to say something before tightly shutting it closed.

Behind him followed another man. He was tall, dressed his best scraggly black coat, a white undershirt, and black slacks all tied together with a matching black tie. His ruffly brown hair didn't match his attire, and neither did the deep scars that lined his face, some old but some fresh and new, but either way he was undeniably beautiful.

He slowed to a stop in the small opening between Peter and Sirius as his half-lidded eyes and warm smile turned into repetitive blinking of disbelief and lips in awe.

And for a moment, the rapid growing beat of your heart, as you saw his figure coming, came to a complete stop.

And everything was deadly silent.

❝ Yes, I got your letter, yes, I'm doing better. I know that it's over, I don't need your closure... ❞

The group stood still and quiet for seconds as their eyes flickered between the two of you, itching to see the reactions. The awkwardness between everything grew to a hot before Sirius shut it down, to the relief of everyone except you.

"So who needs a drink?" he asked, and like a pounce of a tiger, everyone utters their Yups and Yes's and Count Me In's, scurrying away quickly. Mary was the last to leave, fighting with herself in her head if it was better to let you deal with it for once or keep you safe from this horror you desperately tried to stay away from.

You dipped your head down staring at your shoes trying to avoid his eyes. It was only when he cleared his throat that you snapped ur attention back up to him. "Remus," you greeted quickly with his name, flashing a fake, uncomfortable smile.

He grazed your figure with his eyes for a beat before he muttered your name, "y/n."

The air felt cold and thick against your exposed skin, your necklace and dress growing tight on your skin from hearing your name from his lips again. "How are you—"

"Cut it with the niceties Moo—Lupin," you stopped him, "You can have your letter back," you growled digging the letter back out of your pocket and shoving it in his hand, "I've gotten all of them, but this one... you need to take this one back. I don't want it," you gritted.

"Y/n, I just. You wouldn't talk to me, I needed you to know—" Remus changed, not wanting your disacceptence.

"So filling my mail with your stupid words would get us through to each other? You did all this to yourself."

"I didn't know you had—Look I'm sorry but I was scared—"

You scoffed and laughed in his face adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder, "I'm not doing this with you right now, here, after all this time. I'll send the rest of your letters over another day, K?" you ended turning around walking out of the grand room and through the halls.

Remus' heart clenched in love of hearing your laugh but hated the circumstances it was under, begging for this conversation, to clear up every single miscommunication and wrong step, he followed you out.

You crossed by the open bar finding Mary and everyone else downing drinks. You took her hands into your own, "Thanks for inviting me Mary, truly, but I best get going now," you thanked quickly, ignoring Remus behind you with his open mouth with empty words. He only flicked his eyes to the group for a fraction of a second before landing back to you, still closely following you out as you grabbed your coat at the door and exited the mansion.

❝ Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. I'm fine with my spite, and my tears, and my beers, and my candles. I can feel you smoothing me over... ❞

You were halfway across the large courtyard as Remus scurried down the steps, "I loved you!" he exclaimed. You froze and a sharp breath filled your lungs as you whipped around, and you let yourself fully remember what happened for once.

It was the start of your seventh year at Hogwarts. Everyone knew something was brewing between you and Remus. The strong tension, the back-and-forth banters, subtle compliments, and executing favors with no question.

It felt like a silent agreement between you two as the flirtations grew more obvious. Every sight of him caught you winded, and every touch had you melt to the floor, when he finally kissed you, you couldn't help but feel yourself explode with your own personal fireworks. Until he pulled away.

Rumors that he started talking to someone new shattered you. Soon your heartbreak filled with rage, he'd lead you on only to crush you and leave you stranded. And where once, he helped you captain your ship, you soon found him drowned away as you frantically steered yourself into an iceberg.

Your anger so strong you couldn't even look at him, and so you left anything related to him altogether.

Because you thought you had something, only to be made to feel like you meant nothing. Your graduation day only led to more despair as Remus sought you out once again, with the courage to confess. You shut him down and locked him out. It was the loudest and yet most silent, lonely, train ride home.

You blinked back to the present, Remus and you still in the exact moment and positions. Your jaw clenched as his next words came out so softly, so slowly, like a whisper only you could hear across the courtyard. "I still love you."

❝ Yes, I got your letter, yes, I'm doing better. It cut deep to know you right to the bone. Yes, I got your letter, yes, I'm doing better. I know that it's over, I don't need your closure. Your closure, your closure, your closure...❞

The fire in your stomach was lit again, "Don't. Moony, just don't. What was that letter? Huh?" you begged, "'I'm letting you go. I hope you're life is swell'? What was that bloody shit? Because it sure seemed to me like a let's-catch-up-like-good-old-friends type of letter! Not a I've-loved-you-after-all-these-years!" you shouted angrily stomping your way up to him.

"You didn't even try! In any of your letters! All you do is act like it's fine or give empty apologies. So please, explain now, give me a real reason for everything, but don't give me this shit."

He stared at you in worry as your bottom lip quivered, eyes glazed in gloss. "I was trying to stop loving you."

You sobbed a wolfish laugh, "Bull. Shit." you said, pushing his chest away, "You knew I was interested! You knew! So don't give me that absolute fuckery because it makes no sense!"

"I couldn't burden you with—everything—all my...problems," he whimpered, "You needed, you need someone stable. You need someone who can give you a home and family like you wanted."

You parted you lips at his confessions of insecurties, "Remus, I'm a full time artist, barely making it to keep my water on—" you tried explaining back to him.

"I saw your gallery, you know! You need someone who's going to help you show off more of your talent, not hold you back! So why haven't you found someone yet? Stop sitting around hung up on me—" he rambled on, getting angier as you tried driving him away, but bits of every sentence he said added fuel to your burning fire.

"I am not hung up on you!" you exclaimed.

"So why are you here begging me for reasons why I didn't want to be with you? Why do you have to freeze every damn time you look at me, and for Merlin's sake, why've you kept all my letters?"

Your face blackened while you glared into his eyes. And while your fear of confrontation was afraid of confronting what went down, it was the fear of confronting what still lingered. You still loved him. That's what you wrote in the only letter you ever wrote back, the letter you never sent.

And maybe that's why his letters stopped coming. When he was finally ready to let go and take his risks to have you, you neglected to accept his grasp.

❝I know I'm just a wrinkle in your past life. Staying friends would iron it out so nice. Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea that you put between you and me. But it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary...❞

You didn't know why you did it, well you knew why you did it, but you didn't know what came of you. Because instead of pushing him away, you gripped tightly onto the collar of his white shirt, dragging and pulling him to you as you crashed your lips onto his.

And when he, very quickly, kissed you back, your hands skidded up grasping the sides of his face, his own hands pressing your back closer into him. Your lips toppled over each other fueled with passion, craning his neck down just to feel more of you.

You didn't mind that the chilly air froze your cheeks because when the snow came falling you knew it was for the two of you, hoping that it'd freeze you in this moment. You panted lightly through your nose as Remus finally pulled back from you, dashing his eyes all across your face trying to read you.

"Because I don't want you to let go, Remus," you whispered your answer back, Remus shaking his head sofly and rapidly in assurance of your words, "I'm fine with your problems, I'm fine if you can't give me a family, I'm fine if you can't give me a steady life." you scrambled tripping over your own words.

After avoiding his gaze you finally let his chases of finding your eyes catch up with you. "I don't want just a life, Rem. I wanted a life with you. You can't just try to let go of me, can't just stop loving me because you're scared of that," you scolded, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

"You need to let yourself love someone, you've— you need to give me a chance so I can love you." you pressed. Your stomach fluttered as he gave you a soft kiss as your lips once more, and this time when he pulled back he kept his eyes on yours, not letting you look away. You didn't want to look away, you were hanging on waiting for him to say something, anything.

"I will."

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pukanavis · 30 days

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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1

ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.

Fuyume: Excuse me?

Are there any fairy tales here…?

Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?

Thank you for your help.

~...♪

(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)

(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)

(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)

(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)

(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)

(This story is another one that Yume adores.)

(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)

…♪

Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?

You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.

Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?

How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?

Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?

That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.

Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪

Huh? That’s not the issue?

Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.

Here he was thinking you were a nice person.

Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.

And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?

You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…?

Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪

Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?

It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.

Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪

What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪

If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.

Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.

…♪

Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?

Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.

Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else.

Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst.

Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?

—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”

Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.

Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.

In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.

It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪

The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.

After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—

With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—

Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.

Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.

After everything, the final wish she makes is—

Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!

Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.

At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—

Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.

After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.

You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?

Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.

—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”

During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness.

Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.

For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.

Huh? Does Yume love Esu?

It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.

But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.

—The amethyst already shattered long ago.

#Fuyume Hanamura #enstars translation #Ensemble Stars #4piece

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baelogi · 7 days

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love me back ✶ sjy female reader word count 0.8k genre romance high school popular!jake ✉️ @okwonyo

love was something special, woven from the fragments of old heartbreak and first experiments. you could say you experienced love, in one form or the other. however, falling in unrequited love seemed to be your specialty at this point.

it was your third rejection and you couldn’t help but wonder what was so wrong with you. was it the way you approached them? the way you talked? did you spit when you spoke to them? or was it the way you fidgeted with your skirt when confessing?

all in all you found comfort in the quiet classroom as you stared out the window watching the life of others. the box of cookies in front of you were soggy and cold, the pink bow taunting you once again. this would be your third batch of cookies tossed into the garbage bin.

perhaps it was the cookies? what if they didn’t like cookies and preferred cupcakes? or a chocolate bar even. or no pastries at all?

while in the midst of your complicating thoughts, jake—your best friend, slid the classroom door open, smiling instinctively when he saw you.

“thought you went home already?” jake’s voice snapped you out of your daze, startling you slightly. “i was gonna wait for you,” you pointed towards the window indicating his soccer practice.

he was clad in his black jersey and shorts, a bit of sweat lined his forehead but he still managed to look ethereal in the dim light.

“oh,” he once again smiled walking over to sit beside you. “you didn’t have to, i know how tired you are.” jake snuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you sulked in your palm.

“what’s the matter, hm?” he noticed you toying with the box of cookies, eyes droopy and lips jutting out dejectedly.

you sighed before laying your head down on your desk, looking away from jake and hoping he didn’t notice your flushed cheeks. “do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“it what way?” he continued to play with your hair, fingers running through your locks.

“i don’t know, in like a love way. i tried confessing again and i got rejected, again.”

jake’s fingers halted in your hair, eyebrows furrowing before he spoke, “you confessed? to who?” jake bit the inside of his cheek thinking about how you had eyes for everyone else but him—when he was right in front of you.

“some kid from my art class, he’s on your soccer team. i thought he liked me.” you turned to face jake.

it was jake’s turn to sigh, “i know why you’re being rejected all the time.” your head perked up at his statement and you moved closer to listen to him.

would you finally have a cure to this madness?

“i told every boy in the school you were off limits.” jake almost looked proud of himself as he spoke, a small smirk beginning to grow on his lips.

“jake! why would you say that?” you were absolutely appalled to hear that your best friend was the reason behind your nonexistent love life.

“because i’ve been waiting for you to love me back.” jake said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and to him, loving you was.

for you, you could feel the years of forcing yourself to like someone else other than your best friend brewing. you had told yourself that it wasn’t normal to like your friend—he was a friend for a reason.

jake pulled your chair until you collided with his legs—trapping you between them. “you don’t know how many threats it took for it to actually get through their heads. i couldn’t have someone else taking my girl away from me.” his hand rested on your exposed thigh drawing circles on your warm skin.

“why didn’t you stop me from making a fool of myself to all of those boys?” half of you felt flustered about his confession while the other felt angry—you looked like a idiot!

“oh my god! you were there when i was making those boys all these cookies! do you know how expensive all of that supplies was? you’re paying me back every cent—!”

your words were cut short when jake smashed his lips into yours, he snaked his hand towards your nape to keep you in place as he desperately and longingly kissed you. jake smiled cockily at the way you tried backing away from him but reluctantly melting into him, finding a comfortable pace.

“as your boyfriend, you can cut me some slack, no?” jake rested his forehead on yours after pulling away, softly running the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“you’re not my boyfriend.” you scowled at him.

“not yet, but i will be.”

©baelogi

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rosegoldenatlas · 3 months

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They're siblings, your honor

All of the hermits are one great big psychotic family. Here are the roles of the ones I know enough to point out properly and even reasoning. Might make this a foster au BTW.

Xisuma is the father, obviously. But like he's the kind of dad that works night shift just to see his kids more often. He's the kind of dad that adopts kids by pure accident. He's the dad that is always there to give advice and definitely got half of those tips from the internet and the other half from personal experience.

Doc is the eldest child, he was adopted by X because one day he just fucking appeared with his three friends at X's house (its basically a mansion because of how much space he needs to keep all of these kids in check) trying to steal food and supplies. He got caught because he hit his head on a doorframe an it woke up X lol. Doc would be like 17 in the au and he would immediately find a reason to not like Grian.

Beef is one of the people who arrived with Doc, he is on month younger than him and he's the reason X let them stay he night because he immediately invoked pity.

Etho also arrived with Doc, he is two months younger than him and he was supposed to be the only one going in to steal because he knew how to be sneaky but he had no conception of what was needed to survive on the streets so the rest had to join him.

Bdubs was the final person who arrived with Doc and he is a year younger than he rest of the NHO (he came up with the name in the au) Bdubs and Doc have this weird sibling rivalry where they'll have a huge argument over something important then Bdubs will ask for a ride two minutes later and suddenly all is well with the world.

Grian is classic middle child vibes except he's the kind of middle child that causes so many issues that he actually gets attention constantly. When Doc arrived (Grian was adopted a year before Doc was) he immediately accidentally broke Doc's robotics project he had been working on since before they met. Immediately he realized he effed up while Scar was only scared because Grian was. Grian is like 15 btw

Scar is three weeks younger than Grian and he is the kid who always gets in trouble for the most obscure things in school. Like comes home early cause he was suspended for creating a pyramid scheme for monster energy drinks kind of obscure. Also he has scammed most of his adoptive siblings out of their allowances.

Cub is Scars twin in this, he helped with all of the scams and pyramid schemes. But he never gets caught. Nobody knows how but he never got into trouble in school even though he sold pens that had test answers written on a piece of paper in them.

Cleo is 17 in this, she is the on who is put in charge of the house when X is gone because the NHO was deemed irresponsible after the incident which ended with Grian, Scar and Mumbo locked in a closet with the NHO taunting them through the door. Cleo is the only child who owns a car and the one who is consistently begged to drive people places. She has since used this to her advantage and now has the others pay by the mile.

Ren is younger than Cleo but is older than Mumbo, he apparently knew Doc before they were adopted and was adopted first. Ren is the classic theatre kid and does drama after school every Wednesday and Friday. One time he was supposed to watch the younger kids because X was at work, Cleo was shopping and the NHO group was doing stuff. This ended with X coming back to Ren about to be sent to exile (the yard) because he had crowned himself as king of the house and the TV remote was his magic scepter and he wouldn't let anyone else switch the channel.

Mumbo is a year younger than Ren and he used to be considered the most mature, for all of five minutes until he started doing things, these include; making a custom lock on his door out of rubber bands and twine which proceeded to somehow work two whole times before it ripped the doorknob out of the door, making a semi sentient robot out of an old furby and a gameboy, naming it Grumbot then adopting it with Grian, and then accidentally setting his curtains on fire while he was testing a homemade microwave because he wants one in his room but couldn't afford to buy one.

Pearl is the same age as Grian in this, she is labeled the demon child by every other sibling except for Gem and Cleo but she embraces the title. She is called this because she is known to bring dangerous animals into the house and her room is half full of terrariums and tanks of animals. She has brought in multiple spiders and snakes from outside and kept them as pets, she also has a running joke of taping objects to the ceiling so they're upside down. Her biggest prank was attaching everything in grians room to the ceiling including his bed and nobody except Doc, Cleo and Pearl herself know how it happened.

Joel is somewhere between Grians age and Bdubs' age. He is known for getting caught while pranking people in the house consistently. Which is a good thing because most of his pranks will end in something catching fire. He has started multiple cults and has convinced people to give him money to 'support the religion' He makes way too much money from it because he has multiple siblings convinced that the made up gods are real. He uses this money to buy insane amounts of Lego's to build with. He shares them sometimes. He also has a girlfriend at his school (Lizzie) and also whatever odd thing with his friend (Sausage bc c!Joel is probs poly) whom he has 'joint custody' over a small child they babysit sometimes.

That's all of the hermits in the au, here is all of their age in order of oldest to youngest ig

Xisuma (32)

Doc (18)

Beef (18)

Etho (18)

Cleo (17)

Bdubs (17)

Ren (17)

Joel (16)

Mumbo (16)

Grian (15)

Pearl (15)

Cub (14)

Scar (14)

And here is the order in which they were adopted;

Cleo & Ren

[Two months later]

Grian & Scar

[One week later]

Cub

[Three months later]

Pearl

[Two and a half weeks later]

Mumbo

[The next day]

Joel

[Seven months later]

Doc, Beef, Etho & Bdubs

Here is how/ why they were adopted.

Cleo and Ren were both originally foster kids and X was fostering them. They were about to age out of the system and be forced to live without any real help so X offered to adopt them.

Grian and Scar were runaways from their sucky homes and survived on the streets for a total of three days before X found them while he was at a picnic with Cleo and Ren. He took them in pretty quick.

Cub was actually Scars friend from school who tutored him sometimes, while staying over for dinner one night X asked about his home life. Cub explained that he had been emancipated and lived on his own. X offered to let Cub stay for a bit and Cub never really left.

Pearl just appeared in X's yard one day trying to catch a frog who had hopped into it. X was trying to find out where her parents were and she just sat there very confused on the concept of a parent and she claimed she had just appeared in existence one day. X was going to put her in the foster system but decided to just adopt her.

Mumbo was a kid up for adoption that Grian knew and Grian spent about three weeks convincing X to adopt him before X finally agreed.

Joel was found injured am knocked out in the forest one day and a pink haired girl (Lizzie) carried him over to the first safe looking house and knocked on the door. She was let in until Joel woke up, Joel said he was from space and X had decided that wasn't the weirdest story he's been told and yoinked him. X was close to adopting Lizzie until he found out Lizzie already had parents.

Doc, Beef, Etho and Bdubs were lab escapees who were apparently tested on in a shut down lab a few towns over. They had been living on the streets for a few months before they were caught trying to steal from Xisumas kitchen at five in the morning. They were adopted instantly.

Should I write this as a multi POV book of one shots from the same universe and put it on ao3? This is an idea just now occurring to me.

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em1e · 1 year

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⠀若年 // THIEVES AMONG US ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakatoshi ushijima ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1k words ⠀ ⚠︎ fluff to make up for the heartbreak i've been posting ⠀— ushijima is tired of having no hoodies left

ushijima wakatoshi was a lot of things.

standing at a strong 189.5 cm, all muscle and intimidation to those who don’t know him. quiet and kind to those who do.

patience is not something that ushiwaka finds himself lacking in the slightest. it’s actually one of the few things he prides himself in, tolerance for things at another level compared to others. on rare occasion does he find it wearing thin, and today seems to be one of those rarities.

he’s looked everywhere for the stash of hoodies he keeps hidden in his room, locked away from your sticky fingers that manage to take home every other jumper, t-shirt, or jacket you can grab. as the days begin to get colder, leaves turning and falling off of their trees with fall turning to winter, he finds it necessary to have one of the few hoodies he has left under his roof before he goes out the door, and he cannot seem to find a single one.

he almost wants to be amazed at how quickly you manage to grab them - unknowingly to his analytical eye, but frustration bleeds its way under his skin as he stands from looking under his bed for the third time.

not in his closet, not shoved in the backs of his drawers, not even at the bottom his laundry hamper. poof, gone. disappeared into the wind with no evidence to prove they were ever there in the first place.

ushijima heaves a sigh, pulling on his old, thin volleyball jacket with the decision of that needing to be enough. it’d have to be, with the fact of not having anything else to pull on over his long sleeve looming bitterly over his head.

and to think you hate the color of his shiratorizawa jacket - now worn and dull compared to how it looked when he was still in high school. but, if he had to pick between your distaste for the jacket or be uncomfortably chilly for your date, he’d choose the former. at least then, he can have some amount of satisfaction with being able to point out that you are the reason he’s been pushed to such measures.

this bit of spite is enough to spur him on to your house to pick you up for your date.

you looked excited when you pulled open the door, only for your face to drop and your nose to scrunch as you take in the sight of his jacket. faded purple clashing with the off-whitish-yellow shirt he’s decided to pair it with.

“waka . . .” you almost whine as he steps inside so you can slide on your shoes, “we’re gonna take pictures, you don’t have any other jackets to wear?”

“i think you know better than i do the answer to that.” the baritone of his voice cutting through you as you stand on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. it forms into a giggle when he returns it, leaving you to be the one to step away so you can finish getting ready.

“‘m not sure what you mean,” you wave off easily, but you grab his hand to pull him towards your room so he doesn’t hover in the entryway while you put the final pieces of your outfit together, “can let you borrow one of mine, though.”

he makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, that tells you he knows you mean one of the many you’ve robbed from him, but he doesn’t voice a complaint because even the short walk to your home was enough to leave goosebumps on his skin - his shiratorizawa jacket doing nothing to protect him from the elements.

he watches as you grab a sweater of your own to pull over your shoulders, cute and matching the outfit you’ve picked perfectly, before getting on your knees beside your bed and pushing some stuff around under it, pulling out a large storage container with a huff.

“don’t be upset,” you’re starting to say, popping open the lid and taking it off to reveal . . . every single hoodie he’s been missing in the past three years you’ve been dating.

“how . . .” he starts, brows shooting up in shock before they furrow, “why?”

“i like the way you smell,” you pout, puffing out your cheeks to fight the heat rising to them as you avoid his stare to dig through the tub, “s’nice for when you’re out of town for games.”

you pull out one of the neatly folded hoodies you’d been searching for. a sage green that goes well with your own outfit and the shirt he’s got on.

you offer it to him with a grin, “i can let you borrow this one, but i’ll need it back.” you say matter-of-factly, pulling it back to yourself when he doesn’t say anything to the comment, “i need confirmation you’ll give it back!”

you have the audacity to look serious right now. deadly so, as if your life may be on the line without this very hoodie.

“i’ll give it back.” he affirms, “but i need at least three back if you don’t want to ever see me in this jacket again.” he gestures to the worn jacket he’s began to pull off his shoulders, offering it to you in exchange for the green one still being held hostage in your hands.

your eyes flick from the shiratorizawa jacket to the container at your feet. thinking. calculating.

“fine,” you hold the hoodie out to him, “but i get to pick which ones.”

he pulls the hoodie over his head, just barely catching the way your eyes eat at the portion of his abs that shows when his shirt rides up. he grins, “i’ll take that.”

#salmon rowe #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi #x reader

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bookofbonbon · 5 months

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I really love you keep him there/christmas kiss! you mention that it’s common theme amongst polite capitol society children to have known each other their entire lives, did this also include sejanus when he arrived in the capitol? and was she friends with him? 🥺

you'll never belong - coriolanus snow.

Pairings/Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader. Sejanus Plinth. Arachne Crane.

Word Count: 1.1k+.

Apart of: You Keep Him There. Christmas Kiss - however, these can absolutely all be read as stand alones.

A/N: I know this wasn't a request but, it does answer your question and it's an opportunity to introduce one of the reasons why she doesn't 'like' Coriolanus. Also, military family = her mother's side; blizzards = father's side (murdoch is paternal grandfather).

Heavensbee Hall buzzes with excitement, every available standing and sitting space filled with Academy faculty, graduates and their parents, bar yours - not that it mattered to you. For the last ten years, July 4th has been a high priority and exceptionally busy day for your family with your parents always personally overseeing the network’s airing of the Reaping for each District - not even your graduation could take priority over that. Not that you’d expect it to either, you had barely scraped a pass; it was with the help of one person that you were graduating at all, one person you were currently looking for and had finally spotted in the corner with his parents.

You quickly tell your grandparents, “I’ll be back.”

But before you can step away from them, you’re immediately stopped by them - the pair acting as eyes and ears for your parents. You didn’t blame your parents for the precaution and if it had been up to you, you wouldn’t have been here at all but, instead with them. Unfortunately for you however, they had asserted that you were to attend your graduation and remain present for the entire ceremony - no exceptions. They’d even gone so far as to inform your Aunt to keep an eye out for you since she’d be present as a guest of honour.

“Where are you going?” your grandfather asks gruffly.

You nod towards Sejanus Plinth and show him the medium-sized gift box in your hand.

“I need to give this to him.”

There’s a look of disdain mixed with suspicion in his eyes as he looks to where you nod, at the Plinth’s, then back at you until finally he relents but, not without a warning to remain in his sight.

You want to roll your eyes, your mother knew what she was doing when she sicked her military parents on you.

Weaving through several bodies to get to him, you catch bits and pieces of conversations here and there. Only one catches your attention however, involving your three elite cohort - the topic bringing you to a halt.

“... I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He’s district.”

“No need to guess who the three of you are talking about,” you interrupt Coriolanus, Arachne and Festus.

“Well, well, well,” Arachne drawls with her nasally voice. “So nice of you to actually show but, shouldn’t you be in the Academy Rouge? You certainly didn’t place in the top 24.”

“You know it’s funny you mention that, Arachne, because Murdoch actually offered to buy me your place in the top 24 but, out of the kindness of my heart, I told my grandfather, no.”

Thick tension fills the air, Arachne’s red painted lips dropping into a scowl, furthermore when you lean in close and remind her of her place.

“Never forget, Arachne - truth doesn’t matter, only perception and I control the narrative, always,” you smile, saccharine. “Not you.”

You want to roll your eyes at the stubborn look of hidden terror on her face. As if you’d actually do anything to the detriment of any of them - Murdoch had successfully hammered unwavering allegiance to this little group here - The Old Guard of the Elite - into you but, still... they could use a little reminding every now and then of their place.

Stifled laughter from both boys breaks the tension and you divert your attention to them, specifically Coriolanus; your eyes immediately finding the red rose pinned to his waistcoat, the smallest of thorns still present on its stalk.

“A rose,” you touch the stalk gently. “So, very fitting of you. Beautiful to look at but harmful if you touch.”

You allow the thorn to prick your finger, a little bulb of blood blossoming on the tip. You hold your finger up to show him.

“A shame that not everyone knows this,” you tell him disdainfully.

Recognition flashes in his eye, you’re talking about Sejanus - you excuse yourself from the group, carrying onto your final destination who was already headed your way but not to you.

“Hey,” Sejanus greets you with a small smile when you plant yourself in his path.

You bypass the greetings, “where are you going?”

You already know where he’s going and you’re not surprised when he tells you - to Coriolanus - but, you asked as a courtesy.

“Why?”

“There’s something I need to tell him before the ceremony starts.”

“There’s no need to talk in code, I already know about the Plinth Prize or should I say lack thereof.”

Sejanus looks at you puzzled but, before he can ask how you know, you provide him with the answer.

“You all seem to forget who my Aunt is, she’s the one who told me.”

Recognition becomes Sejanus and he nods in understanding.

“Hey, listen.” You step closer to him. “You should really stop hanging out with Coriolanus.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s not your friend.”

This makes him laugh, “oh and you are?”

“Compared to him? Absolutely I am. Sejanus, you could have all the money in the world and it will never make them- him like you.”

Sejanus bristles at your words, becoming defensive - you don’t mean to hurt him but, you do.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he tells you bitterly. “As if I needed another reminder that I’ll never belong here.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not trying to remind you that you don’t belong here, I’m trying to tell you that they don’t care about you. Coriolanus Snow does not care about you.”

“And how exactly would you know that when you only care about yourself?” he snaps at you. "He has been the only person who has ever been my fri-"

“Well then you are as stupid as you are willful, Sejanus Plinth because Coriolanus Snow only cares about Coriolanus Snow,” you cut him off.

Irritation seeps into your voice because what he said wasn’t true about Coriolanus or about you.

You were fiercely protective of those you care for and love - your military grandfather said it would be your downfall - and right now, despite your unwavering allegiance to the Old Guard, you were stupidly trying to protect him.

“He’s going to get you into trouble or worse- but you know what? What do I care, right? So, whatever- here.” you shove the box into his hand. “My thanks for your help.”

You don’t give him time to process, swiftly turning and walking away once you feel his hands take hold of the medium-sized gift box - baked goods from District 2.

That would be the last conversation you’d had with Sejanus Plinth before he was hanged for treason in District 12 only two months later.

You’d hardly known him and yet you cared for him; his death still hurt.

The truth of Sejanus's death would find you eventually, haunting your relationship with Coriolanus; unable to completely trust him.

Can you guess where the Blizzard family has made their wealth?

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #arachne crane #coriolanus snow x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #I’m sorry I don’t know how to tag this #the bulk is Sejanus x reader #but the actual pairing is Coriolanus x reader

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mask131 · 6 months

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The missing Arthurian knight - rediscovered in 2019

Well the title is a slight lie - the missing knight wasn't rediscovered in 2019, it was earlier than that, but he didn't became public until 2019.

So what's this "missing knight" about? Well as the title says. There was a knight part of the Arthurian myth, and he had been missing ever since the Middle-Ages, and he was only recently rediscovered.

Or rather, to be exact - there was an Arthurian novel centered around a knight that existed and was a famous and well-known part of the Arthurian literature in the Middle-Ages, but that completely disappeared, and was forgotten by culture (as much popular culture as the scholarly one). Until very recently.

This rediscovered novel has been a hot topic of all Arthuriana fans in Europe for a few years now - and yet I do not see much talk about this onto this website, despite Tumblr being a big place for Arthurian fans?

So I will correct this by doing a series of posts about the subject. And this post will be the first one, the introduction post presenting to you "Ségurant, le chevalier au dragon" ; "Segurant, the knight of the dragon". A French medieval novel part of the Arthurian literature (hence the "chevalier au X" title structure - like Lancelot, the knight of the cart or Yvain the knight of the lion from Chrétien de Troyes), the reason this story was forgotten by all medievalist and literary scholars is - long story short - because it never existed in any full manuscript (at least none that survived to this day). It was a complete story yes, with even variations apparently, but that was cut into pieces and fragments inserted into various other manuscripts and texts (most notably various "Merlin's Prophecies").

The novel and the Knight of the Dragon were rediscovered through the work of Emanuele Arioli, who rediscovered a fragment of the story while looking at an old manuscript of a Merlin Prophecies, and then went on the hunt for the other fragments and pieces scattered around Europe, until he finally could compile the full story, that he then published in 2019, at the Belles Lettres publishing house, in 2019.

Arioli reconstructed the text, and translated it in both modern French and Italian for scholarly and professional editions (aka Honoré Champion in France, a reference for universities)...

... But also for a more "all public, found in all libraries" edition - the famous 2019 edition at Les Belles Lettres.

And not only that, but he also participated to both a comic book adaptation with Emiliano Tanzillo...

... and an adaptation as an illustrated children novel!

Finally, just a few weeks, the Franco-German channel Arte released a documentary about the reconstitution and content of this missing novel called "Le Chevalier au dragon: Le roman disparu de la Table Ronde". (The Knight of the Dragon - The missing novel of the Round Table). The full documentary is on Youtube in French for those that speak the language, here. And in German here for those who speak German.

Unfortunately there is no English version of the documentary that I know of, nor any English publications of the actual text - just French and Italian. But hey, I'll try to palliate to that by doing some English-speaking posts about this whole business!

#ségurant #segurant #the knight of the dragon #le chevalier au dragon #arthuriana #arthurian myth #arthurian literature #arthurian novel #discoveries #medieval literature #arthurian legend #arthurian knights #found media #lost media #that people didn't even know was lost

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burningvelvet · 6 months

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Why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason Couldn't Get a Legal Separation; or, the Utter Madness of Marital Laws

So I saw a Jane Eyre post discussing why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason couldn't get a legal marital separation. I've thought a lot about this topic, and in order to procrastinate writing the final for my upper-level Brontë class, I've decided to write this sort of convoluted analysis instead. I know many others have written about this subject, but I wanted to explore a bit further on my own.

Preliminary context about me, the Brontës, their Byronic inspiration, etc.: I've learned a lot about 19th century British marriage laws recently in my classes on old British literature, as well as by having studied Byron, whose marital separation in 1816 was a notorious part of his history & also reverberated through 19c literature. He refers to this separation in many of his works, most famously in his notorious poem "Fare Thee Well." Harriet Beecher Stowe, the most famous American female writer at the time, was friends with Lady Byron and wrote a book defending her called "Lady Byron Vindicated: A history of the Byron controversy from its beginning in 1816 to the present time" (the original callout post).

Insanity accusations did factor in to Byron's separation. Many scholars have remarked how the Queens of Byronic Criticism, the Brontë sisters, took significant inspiration from their well-worn copy of Moore's biography Life of Byron when creating their works. The Brontës would have been very familiar with marriage laws not only due to their knowledge of Byron's trainwreck of a marriage, but also due to being well-educated women at the time who knew that marriage was the most important economic decision of one's life and could very well make or break a person. As a result, marriage plays a significant role in their novels.

More relevant preliminary context about the novel: Jane Eyre actually takes place in the Georgian era, despite most adaptations and anaysis presenting is as a Victorian piece due to the novels publication date (this drives me crazy; same goes for the other Brontë books). Marriage laws did not change drastically from the time the novel is set to the time Brontë was writing the novel, but things were a bit different socially. Rochester was also married 15 years before his attempt to marry Jane. According to this very good analysis, Rochester and Bertha probably married in or around the year 1793: https://jane-eyre.guidesite.co.uk/timeline.

Now, here are the reasons why Rochester couldn't separate from Bertha:

1) Insanity wasn't grounds for divorce/separation in the Regency era.

Rochester himself says that he couldn't legally separate from her because of her insanity, which presumably rendered any of her faults null on the grounds of that marital vow "in sickness and in health." This is possibly one of his biggest reasons:

"I was rich enough now – yet poor to hideous indigence: a nature the most gross, impure, depraved I ever saw, was associated with mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. And I could not rid myself of it by any legal procedings: for the doctors now discovered that my wife was mad — her excesses had prematurely developed the germs of insanity [..]"

2) Divorce was nearly impossible anyway.

There had only been around 300 divorces in English history at the time. Almost all of them were husbands divorcing their wives for committing adultery. Only a handful of divorces had succesfully been obtained by women, and they were only in cases where the husband had committed incestuous adultery or bigamy, and was extremely physically cruel. So technically after his bigamy attempt, Bertha may have had more grounds to obtain a divorce than Rochester would have, if only she were lucid enough to do so. However, in that scenario infertility would have helped their case, and Adèle's existence would have harmed their case if he attempted to seek a divorce before marrying Jane. Though as the novel explains, Adèle is probably not his, she definitely would have been used against him, as would the fact that he kept Bertha's existence a secret in England. But he wouldn't have tried for divorce that late in the game anyway, considering it was one of the most difficult options.

3) Female adultery was your best bet at divorce or separation, and this probably wasn't applicable to Mr. & Mrs. Rochester.

Although some scholars claim that there is subtext hinting that Bertha was adulterous (which some adaptations, like the 2006, include), you needed substantial proof of the adultery, which Rochester may not have had if it did occur. Being a proud man, he also wouldn't have wanted to be humiliated in that way by letting it be publicly known (as shame is one of his main reasons for hiding their marriage to begin with).

However, I lean toward the idea that Bertha may not have committed adultery. If she definitively did, seeing how affected Rochester was by Céline cheating on him (he shot her lover in revenge and left her with a stipend), if he ever suspected adultery on Bertha's part then I'm sure he would have been at court the very next day. I also think Rochester tries not to be too much of a hypocrite, and he is well aware that he himself is an adulterer, so he probably doesn't want to accuse Bertha of a crime he's committed and which he couldn't definitively prove she did.

Rochester does talk about hating Bertha's "vices" when they lived together, citing drinking, arguing, cruelty to servants, cursing, her being "unchaste," a "harlot," etc. - the last epithets, combined with her supposed lack of morality, and her being described as seductive, heavily imply that adultery could be added to her list of offenses. However, if she did truly cheat on him as well, I don't see why he wouldn't plainly tell this to Jane as well. I would imagine it would be his first complaint, and it would probably be considered his most justifiable reason against her by their cultural standards.

I don't see why he wouldn't jump to take Bertha's infidelity as an opportunity to defend his own actions, considering how open he is with Jane about his own adultery and being cheated on by Cèline Varens. While I can see how some of the textual evidence may strongly suggest Bertha's adultery, we cannot be fully certain, and that may be because Rochester himself is not fully certain. I cannot see why he wouldn't have sought legal advice on that account alone.

In short, if Bertha was an adulterer, there must have been no evidence to convict her.

Also: while the double-standard may seem odd and trivial to us, the reason why female adultery held more weight than male adultery has entirely to due with old patriarchal inheritance laws; i.e the risk of a wife getting extramaritally pregnant and passing the illegitimate child off as her husband's heir was considered too great of an affront. A man could have as many bastards as he wanted because he would know they were bastards and were not at risk of inheriting his stuff. One needed legitimate heirs to justify passing on one's ancestral wealth to. Essentially, marriage was a mere economic tool, and the economy was and is inherently patriarchal. I digress.

4) Rochester's lack of social & economic leverage, and risk of social ruin in general.

Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could obtain divorce or official separation, and it often led to social ruin. Rochester is rich, but he has no title and no great network of supporters due to being a younger son and having been abroad for most of the past 15 years (this was the length of his marriage to Bertha, stated by Mr. Briggs during the bigamous wedding attempt). He doesn't have as much leverage as Lord and Lady Byron had.

To continue on official separation, like Lady and Lord Byron obtained. Just like divorce, this was also a messy and scandalous legal proceeding, and required numerous good reasons to obtain, and being well-connected Lords and Ladies really helped your case. You also needed many witnesses and written statements as evidence. Bertha's family, as we see with Mason, would have been unhelpful to Rochester, and due to his shame and secrecy, no one could really testify on his behalf I'm assuming.

5) Unofficial separation would have been inconvenient, especially in regards to living situations.

Aside from divorce, which was extremely rare, extremely controversial, and only for the wealthiest members of society — there were unofficial and official separations. An unofficial separation was simply living apart from one another. I've often wondered why Rochester didn't simply move Grace Poole and Bertha somewhere else, but my main theory is that it would have been cost ineffective, and due to his family who were implied to be shitty, he probably really didn't want to live at Thornfield anyway so thought it would be convenient to place her there. Rochester says it would be dangerous to place her in his other residence of Ferndean:

"[..] though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate."

6) Annulment was likely impossible given their circumstances.

Annulment means evaporating the marriage, acting as if it never existed, that it was a mistake. This was rare and only granted in unique circumstances, and I believe it was more common with aristocracy and royals. I believe you could possibly get an annulment if you could prove that the spouse was insane at the time of the wedding and you did not know. However, Bertha did not begin to truly deteriorate until after they had been living together for a bit. And while Rochester says that he did not know her mother was in an asylum until after the wedding, having an insane mother doesn't mean that you are insane, which Bertha clearly wasn't at that point, at least not in a way that people would have publicly acknowledged, since Rochester says she attended parties and her hand was highly sought after.

Generally, the longer a marriage had gone on, the harder it was to prove why it could not go on. Rochester says that he and Bertha "lived together" for "four years" in Jamaica while her condition deteriorated and he tried to make things work. And again, after the wedding he found out her mother was "mad, and shut up in a lunatic asylum." So we have more reasons for Rochester's difficulty: the fear of Bertha going to an asylum while she was still mostly lucid in those first four years, combined with the fact that they openly lived together and certainly must have consummated their marriage (things which would further prevent annulment), and were certainly publicly recognized as a couple in Spanish Town society, and her family wanting the marriage to continue so she could have children of "good race" i.e. to produce heirs.

Here's an important passage that to me suggests that Rochester and Bertha not only had an initial flirtation but likely consummated their marriage, likely had a passionate sexual relationship for some time, and likely implies his feelings for her were more complex than we'd initially assume, making annulment not so clear-cut of an option to him at the time:

"My father said nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram; tall, dark, and majestic. Her family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act! — an agony of inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her."

7) Spousal abandonment wasn't possible, and on some level he honored his legal and financial obligations to her and the Mason family.

Bertha's family likely refused to house her for legal and personal reasons, and spousal abandonment was forbidden due to the husband's financial responsibility as well as the law of coverture (a wife became her husband's full legal responsibility; some say "property"). Like we see in Anne's Tenant of Wildfell Hall, if a woman ran away from their spouse they would have to live in obscurity and be at risk of being sussed out. You couldn't just abandon your partner. Still, people did, because it was the easiest route to take.

But the more upper-class you were, and the more financial entanglements you had, the more inconvenient this was. We know that Rochester and his family became enmeshed with the Mason family, and he got a lot of money from Bertha, so her father likely would have taken him to court. At any rate, Rochester was legally bound to bring Bertha with him to England when he left Jamaica. If he attempted to abandon her in Jamaica, the backlash it would have brought would have brought him social ruin and foiled his chances at getting away with any bigamy attempts.

All this brings us to a further notice of Bertha's family situation. Based on Charlotte Brontë's positive comments about Rochester's character (https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/731403104856195072/in-a-letter-to-w-s-williams-14-august-1848) I see no reason to suspect him, like many feminist critics do, of being an unreliable narrator or of lying about Bertha Mason's history. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, and in mine, that is simply not the novel Charlotte wrote. By her own admission, she wanted his narrative to be a path to further goodness.

It makes no narrative sense for our explanation of his and Bertha's history to be full of lies when he's trying to make ammends with Jane, who never suspects him of lying during his admission, but who does critique him and figure he'd tire of her like she was one of his many mistresses. Jane wonders if Rochester would lock her in an attic too, which he refutes on the basis that he loves her more than he loved Bertha when she was sane, and so he would care for Jane himself. Jane also tells him that it's not Bertha's fault that she's mad. So in my opinion, if Charlotte wanted us to believe Rochester was lying about his and Bertha's history to make himself look better or Bertha look worse, I don't see why she would have been vague about it, and I don't see why Jane wouldn't have called it out like she does everything else. I don't think Rochester is really a villain who locked his harmless wife in the attic for giggles; I think he weighed most of his options and found, like most people back then and even today, that keeping his problems locked up and ignored was the best solution.

Now, on with the point. I have often wondered why Rochester didn't simply "unofficially separate" from Bertha by leaving her with her family when he left. Why did he take her to England? Why didn't he just run away? It wasn't because he was an evil villain who wanted to keep her as a trophy. It's because 1) I don't think her father would have let him, as he was so quick to marry her off, 2) he felt obligated to her, and 3) it was criminal for men to abandon their wives, and it would have attracted publicity, which is what Rochester was avoiding by taking Bertha to England and sheltering her in secrecy.

Many claim that Rochester's adultery is a betrayal of his wife; and while religiously, narratively, socially, we can accept this statement, it was not legally a crime. While Rochester does honor his financial and legal obligations to his wife and her family, he does not take the religious part of the vows into account, and that's why he's cosmically punished and only rewarded after he repents, as he explains toward the end of the novel.

Another interesting point is that when Rochester recounts his decision to move back to England, he tells us that Bertha had already been declared insane in Jamaica and that she was already confined there (presumably around the 4 year anniversary before they left), meaning her father probably knew about confinement:

"One night I had been awakened by her yells (since the medical men had pronounced her mad, she had of course been shut up) — it was a fiery West Indian night; [..]"

Locking away "insane" people was standard procedure then, and if this was done with Bertha's father's knowledge, considering he locked his own wife away in an asylum, then this further absolves Rochester of a lot of the blame in my opinion. It more than likely wasn't his idea to lock her away, but the advice of "the medical men" and presumably her father's consultation as well.

8) Even if he divorced or separated from her, he couldn't remarry. Attempting these, or getting caught attempting abandonment, would have brought negative publicity that would have likely prevented the success of any future bigamy attempts. To him, secrecy and bigamy seemed better chances at securing happiness than the social ruin and likely failure the other options would have brought him.

Aside from Rochester's own explanation (which I supplied in #2 re: the separation veto inherent to Bertha's insanity), the other biggest reason as to why Rochester wouldn't seek a separation/divorce even if she hadn't been declared insane and even if he were willing to accuse her of adultery truthfully or not, is due to the fact that one could not legally remarry upon separation or divorce (unless you were Henry VIII and got God's permission lol). Rochester's impossible dream is that he wants to be married to someone he really loves, and if secrecy and bigamy are his only options then he is willing to succumb; this is shown in numerous passages:

"[..] I could reform — I have strength yet for that — if— but where is the use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I will get it, cost what it may."

"I will keep my word: I will break obstacles to happiness, to goodness — yes, goodness; I wish to be a better man than I have been; than I am — as Job's leviathan broke the spear, the dart, and the habergeon, hinderances which others count as iron and brass, I will esteem but straw and rotten wood."

"Is there not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves? It will expiate at God's tribunal. I know my Maker sanctions what I do. For the world's judgment — I wash my hands thereof. For man's opinion — I defy it."

Closing remarks on the above's validity: I can't cite all my sources because a lot of this stuff I learned from lectures via my professor who specializes in 19th century English literature & history. But here's some recently published information from a historian, taken from "Inside the World of Bridgerton: True Stories of Regency High Society" by Catherine Curzon (2023):

"And if you were one of the newly-weds, you really did hope things would work out, because in the Regency till death do us part wasn't just an expression. As the Prince Regent himself had learned when he separated from his wife within eighteen months of their marriage, obtaining a divorce in Regency England was no easy matter. He never achieved it, and for those who did the stakes could be high and the cost ruinous in every sense."

"Until the passing of the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857, which legalized divorce in the civil courts, it was governed by the ecclesiastical courts, and the Church didn't end a marriage without very, very good reason. Even these divorces didn't allow a couple to remarry, though, and they were more akin to what we would today call a legal separation, with no shared legal or financial responsibilities going forward. It was freedom, but only to a point."

"The only way to obtain a complete dissolution that allowed for remarriage was to secure a parliamentary divorce, and these were notoriously difficult to obtain. They began with a criminal conversation case, because they relied on adultery by one of the parties to make them even a slight possibility. If a woman committed crim. con., her life in polite society was over."

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