#I think just writing this helped me get to where I am now at this more healed and rounded point

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 24th of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: This is it, folks! The last door to open for you in this event. Thank you for sticking around or checking out a story here and there, I appreciate it all! If you celebrate Christmas - merry Christmas! Have some lovely and calm festivities! If you don't - have a lovely day, I hope it is relaxing enough and that you take good care of yourself!

A gentle reminder: when I write "Christmas" here, I am talking about the Feast of The Winterstar. I have to admit, I got a little sloppy after writing "Feast of the winterstar" so often. Please forgive me - and I hope you can enjoy nonetheless!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: find out, dolls!

ᴡᴄ: depending how much you read

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: hints of sexual content

Sebastian: „The Feast of the Winterstar isn’t really my thing, you know? So many people, so many sounds, and you have to pretend to be…I dunno, a happy a little family, you know? Even though you aren’t really a happy little family, and you feel like an outcast. Look at this, me throwing a pity party for myself. But I promise, it’s going somewhere.  I didn’t usually like it because I felt so misplaced, but this year, I didn’t. This was one of the first years where I looked forward to going, because I knew you would be my family, and I dunno, it felt so good. Okay, I have to admit, maybe that blowjob you gave me before helped. And maybe knowing that you were so full of my cum that you had to squish those thighs together in that little skirt did, too. I wonder how many people saw those hickeys, wonder how many knew you were absolutely pumped full…you took my cock so well, even though you knew we had to go, like you always do…I digress. Look at me, writing this card, trying to be all cute and sweet and even now when you are not even around (you are sleeping on the couch right now, I am going to carry you to bed later, promise) to distract me, you still possess my mind. I sometimes wonder if you know how much I love you. Probably not, because I often suck telling you, but I do. So much. You make this life a lot better, you know? You give me this sort of foundation I have always needed, and you know what? I am so happy to build up on it with you. The realization hit me hard today, when I didn’t feel that pit in my stomach when getting ready to go to the town square. When I didn’t just want to turn around and run for it, when I didn’t want to jump on my bike and just get out of there. It hit me even harder when I looked forward to talking to my family, because I could wrap my arm around you, and I knew I would be safe and appreciated. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but, uh, thank you. I love you, you little toad. I will put this card under your pillow now and pretend it was Santa who brought you your gift, because you can’t stop me. I love you. -Sebby”

Sam: “I haven’t written a card in aaaaaaaaaaaaagessssssssss, but I decided today was the day it needed to happen. Because I love you, baby, so, so much. You should have seen yourself in the square, holy fuck did you make my heart swell. That Winterstar sweater looked sooooo good on you, and the way your eyes glistened? Holy shit, you were prettier than the tree they put up, and I love that tree. But you know what else I love? You. You were so excited for your present, too, and I am sorry Clint gave you rocks. I hope my present is better. No, I am not talking about fingering you under the table while we ate, but that was fucking hot, right? You were fucking gushing for me, baby, so fucking sloppy. I know you were struggling to stay quiet, but I was struggling, too. Do you know how fucking hard my cock was? Oh, oops, I think I am getting off topic. I wasn’t talking about that present, I am talking about the one that’s under the tree (if you are not letting me open mine before tomorrow, I am not letting you open yours, either. Those are the rules (I am pouting as I write this)). I think you are going to like it, I saw you looking at it for a while now. And here you are thinking I don’t remember much (true), but if my baby likes something, I am sure as hell remembering. I hope it is going to make you happy. It won’t make you as happy as you make me, but at least a fraction of it? I can’t wait to see your face when you open it, I hope your eyes will keep that excitement you always get when you are opening presents, not like when you opened the rocks. I do have admit though, the look you gave Clint was hilarious. He’s a shitty secret Santa, isn’t he? But you aren’t. You don’t know it yet, but you have already given me the biggest gift possible, baby. I am not talking about the one under the tree. The days you spend with me are the sunniest of my life, and I can’t wait to spend more with you. I love you to the moon and back, you know that, right? Because I do. And I can’t wait to love you forever and always. -Love, Sammy”

Shane: “You know I am not the biggest fan of this. To be honest, I still think it’s humbug (I grew to like that word, though), but Jas told me that you give people you care about a card for Christmas, so. Yeah, surprise, I care about you. I hope you have noticed by now. Why do these cards even need so much glitter? I made you one so it wouldn’t look like a fucking unicorn threw up over it, but the glitter from those flimsy store things is still sticking to my hands, like, the fuck?  I pet Charlie earlier and he fucking sparkled, and I don’t know how to get fucking glitter out of feathers. It’s not like I didn’t try. I even fucking googled, and now I get ads about little arms you can put on chickens… Reading back, I think I am trying to avoid getting to the point, but that’s not because of you. No, it’s because of me, because I am scared that if I write down what I feel, realization will kick in for you and have you run for the hills, but I just need you to know. I love you, I really do. I know I have been a little very mean to you in the beginning, so…thank you for persisting and not giving up on me. I honestly don’t think I could have ever gotten so far without you - I wake up and don’t just feel like complete shit. I go through my day without just thinking about getting drunk. When you were sitting across from me at the feast, I noticed that this was the first year I didn’t have some sort of alcohol with me. And when you smiled at me, I knew I wanted it to stay like that. I know I went a little rough with you there when we got home, but I just needed you to know, just needed you to feel how much you mean to me, how thankful I am for you. I don’t know what happened to me there, but it felt so right to just…pound it into you. But hey, the way you have scratched down my back and cried my name, I think you got the message. And if not, don’t you worry, I have enough time to make it stick. But I know you are waiting in bed for me right now, and I really want to join you, so… to cut this shit short (Sam would call it yapping, I think), I love you. A lot. -Shane PS: should we get little arms for our chickens?”

Harvey: “Hello, my love. I have decided that today is the best time to sit down and take some time to write this card for you. After all, winter is the time of consideration and love for others, isn’t it? And I have to say, I have so much love for you. I do not know how to tell you this, but I am simply going to try. You have brought so much new things into my life, it his hard to believe. I have always believed that I didn’t really like change, that’s why I opened my clinic in Pelican Town, after all. It promised me a slow pace and rituals, and, most importantly, rarely any changes. There are barely any people coming, barely any leaving. And then you came along, changing this town completely. And you changed it for the good. Just like you did with me. Hon, you made me leave the comfort of my bubble more than one time and in more times than one. You made me test my abilities, try out new things. I would have never gotten in that hot air balloon without you, for example. Would have never discovered that I love aerobics and dancing, and, to be honest, I wouldn’t know as much sexually about myself as I do know. You have allowed me to explore myself and gave me your safety. I didn’t know I had an oral fixation until I met you, if I am being honest, and I didn’t think I would enjoy going down on a woman as much as I do. Okay, well, maybe that is because of you. Your moans and gasps are just the sweetest, and I love the way you tug at my hair…Hoo, boy, I am blushing just writing this! I just wanted to sincerely thank you for showing me that I do not need to be as scared as I used to be. That it is okay to fall sometimes, to trust in the safety nets. I love you, my love. So, so much. I hope you will never forget this, and I hope you know: although you have shown me that change is okay – my love for you will never change in any other way than that it will grow for you. I love you. Yours truly, Harvey.”

Elliott: “The stars are shining bright upon us tonight, my sweet angel, the air is clear, and so is my head, but my heart? Oh, my heart is full of one of the rawest, strongest and most important emotions – love. And this love, my beautiful little angel, is directed to you. Sometimes I am asking myself how I, a mere commoner, so to speak, is deserving of such a carefully created being as you are. And then my thoughts cease, my tongue ties and my throat closes up out of nothing but the sheer fear that whoever was grateful enough to allow your love to be gifted to me will take this question as an offensive act of ungratefulness and take you away from me. What I am trying to tell you, angel, is, that I love you, wholly and completely, with each atom of my being, with every cell that keeps me alive, with every breath that fills my lungs, with every word I write, with every page I fill – I love you. Not only a day like the Feast of the Winterstar awake these strong feelings within me, no, it could be an ordinary day where I get to wake up next to you, your love-bitten skin just barely covered by a blanket, your hair all tousled, partly because of the sleep that still keeps you wrapped up tightly, partly because you have allowed me to make love to you. An ordinary day where I get to see your smile, get to see you is enough to alight this fire within me. If I am allowing myself to speak freely, even right now, just by writing this, I can feel my the warmth pool inside my stomach, can feel myself craving you in a way that is primal, and I know I could just turn around and please you, distract you from the book you are reading. But my angel, I won’t do so – not just yet. I first need you to know that your love, hopefully just as raw and ready to blossom like mine, is the biggest gift that has been ever gifted to me. No Winterstar could gift me something as dear as you, and I would never even dare to speak out another wish – as long as I have you. Please know, my angel, that you are my everything. My muse, my light, my reason to overcome writer’s block, my safe haven I will always be happy to return to. I love you. -Forever yours and fallen for you, Elliott.”

Alex: "Merry X-mas baby! You prolly know that I really suck at writing but this is our first X-mas together and I wanted to write you a card. because there are a few things I wanted to tell you you know? Like that I fell in love with you the moment you moved here and I fell fucking hard. Cheesy isn't it? But it's true. I don't really know how many nights I spent thinking about you. Okay to be honest, I didn't only think, I also busied my hand a little if you know what I mean ;) Just couldn't resist, you are just so pretty baby. So so pretty. Actually I can't wait to see you wearing that lil gift I got you. I think you are gonna like it but I am SURE you will like what I am going to do to you while you are wearing it. Can't wait to have my cock inside of you again baby it to be honest. I just love the face you make the moment I brush your cunt with my dick. Fuck that I love everything about you baby. Love everything you do when I plow you...  I know I know, we already had our fun today, but I just can’t get enough of those moans. They are like my fucking fuel, you are my fuel.  I dunno if I should tell you this, because I am actually a lil embarrassed about it, but do you know that audio I made of us fuckin? I sometimes listen to it when doin an especially hard workout because it makes me feel like I can do anything. I am drifting off right now right? I can't wait to spend this X-mas with you and many more to come because you actually make me look forward to it again. Christmas and the whole Winterstar season were so hard on me ever since my mom passed away, but you… you lift that gloomy cloud away from me. You make it feel like it’s going to be okay, and I am so thankful for that, baby. Damn, this season make me cheesy doesn't it? But to put it in a nutshell (I actually read that phrase in a book today are you proud of me now?): I love you, baby. ~Alex I actually did it I actually wrote a card can you fucking believe it."

Leah: “My sweet thing! Did I already tell you how cute you look in your little Winterstar sweater? Gives me the Christmas spirit in a way you wouldn’t believe! I absolutely loved how you told Evelyn what wool you were using to make it, even offering her some. You’ve just got the kindest heart in the valley, don’t you? You know I usually get artist’s block during the winter months, but when I saw down and looked at this piece of paper, it was like I just knew what I needed to do. And here we are, now that your Christmas card has dried, I can finally write in it, and I am going to use it to tell you that… I love you! What surprise, huh? Especially since I have given you that sculpture. But it is true, I love you. When we woke up together and slept together once more before getting ready…phew… I don’t know, I think I have never felt like this before. By the way, while we are at it, I definitely need you on my face again. There is just something absolutely breathtaking ( 😉 ) about you grinding against me so desperately while you are trying to eat me out… Look at me, sweet thing, already rambling and drooling over you again. But that is what you do to me… Sweet thing, you make me feel so genuinely happy and welcome here. I have always enjoyed my solitude in a way, fending for myself, being one with the nature, seeking out company only when I truly wanted it. But you showed me that there is another person I can rely on but myself, and for that I am thankful. You have opened your arms and your home for me whenever I needed either or both, and you are always believing in me, even when I had this dumb idea to sculpt a Winterstar tree with just cans. Yes, I will never drink that kinda wine again and yes, I remember that Shane blocked me because I spammed him trying to ask him for cans. But even though it was stupid and I was behaving like a maniac, you just smiled at me and got on your horse, telling me you’d fetch me some more cans. And you did. Thank you, love, for loving me, my art, and being a masterpiece yourself. I love you. -Leah. PS: I MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA HOW THAT TREE MIGHT ACTUALLY WORK OUT."

Maru: “Well, Christmas cards certainly aren’t my usual way of communicating, but I figured why not try out something new for once? You know I am all for trying out new things, especially if they make the world a better place. And if this makes your day a little better, then I am already one step closer to that goal. Was that cheesy? I think it was. I cannot believe what you are doing to me; ME, a clear-minded, well-structured scientist, being cheesy and absolutely whipped for you. It is true – I am. I do not what you did to me, but it did work. Every single day I wake up thankful to have you, and not only because you are such a willing little guinea pig (which you are, may I add. But you are my favourite <3). I remember when we had slept together that first time. It was NOT that I was a virgin, but… you made me feel things I didn’t quite think I could feel. I was actually feeling like you wrapped me up in cotton candy when you whispered these sweet things to me, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible (just to be clear, it is not!). With every kiss that you placed on my skin, with every thrust of your fingers, I was falling deeper, deeper, deeper and I absolutely did not want it to stop. I still do not. Is that greedy? Perchance. Do I mind that much? No, because it is with you. And here we are, just coming back from the Feast of The Winterstar, and I can’t wait to give you your gift. You had told me you had wanted to wait until the morning to exchange them, like you don’t know how impatient I can get. I just cannot wait to see your face when you open it up. You know, I probably have hidden it so well, but I actually am trying to support your farm with my machines. I build most of the farm helpers with you in mind. I am only telling you this because it is Christmas, though! Still. I love you. I love you really, really much, and I truly enjoy loving you. I know I sometimes might have an odd way of showing it, but now it is here, spelled out clearly, and I am happy it is. Because you deserve to now. Merry Christmas. -Your love loving you, Maru. PS: Did you know that the tradition of the Winterstar has a quite interesting origin?”

Emily: “It’s CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS! I can’t believe this beautiful time of year is already supposed to be over again ☹. It always moves by so fast, doesn’t it?! Especially now that I have you by my side – it was like it had gone in a blink! One day we were cuddling on the couch watching this sweet little Christmas movie, and the next we were already at the Feast! Thank you for dancing with me, by the way. I enjoyed it a lot, even though we might have put a little show on for everyone 😉. Do you think they saw that I was not just dancing with you, but basically humping that sweet little butt of yours? Do you think they knew we were all over one another as soon as we stepped through the door. Yoba, you were so wet from just a little grinding! Okay, maybe a more than a little grinding, but your panties were drenched! But that’s okay, I was just as wet as you. I always get like this around you; it is like I just can’t get enough. You are so intoxicating! I have always known that, though, I could feel your vibes the first time we met and they were AMAZING! They still are, of course, but they also grew a lot stronger. I hope you know how happy the spirits are with you, my little butterfly! You just wouldn’t believe how happy I am that our spirits get to intertwine like this! I see them in my dreams sometimes, they are a strong unit. I wish I could take you along into that world more often, but it can be hard to channel all these emotions sometimes… Oh, my butterfly, I am just so happy to have you. I love you so much. It feels like colours are brighter with you around, even now in winter! I just can’t wait to see again what the other seasons are going to look like with you. And I can’t wait to spend another winter with you, another Christmas. I know that’s a little early, isn’t it? But with you, the future seems a lot tastier. Albeit now I would like to enjoy the present, because you are smiling at me, telling me we should share some Winterstar cookies. To many more present moments, butterfly. -Hugs and kisses, Emily.”

Haley: “Babe, thank you so, so much for encouraging me to take my camera with me today. Me being a summer girlie makes it hard for me to see the appeal in winter, but I actually got some decent shots today. You definitely need to check them out later when I developed them! But I have to say, even though those pics are pretty, they aren’t my favourite. No pictures can beat the ones I have of us, they are my favourite and will always be.  Actually, well, there might be a set of pics that can beat those as well, hehe… Remember when you allowed me to make you my little model? You looked so pretty in that lingerie set. I am looking at one of those pictures right now, and I would be lying if I said that they didn’t do something to me. You just have a way to pose that makes me a little envious. Not much, though, because those pics are for me and me only. But the one where you grin at me with those hooded eyes…you just knew exactly what were you doing, weren’t you? Who knew a dirty little farmer had it in her? 😉 But look at me, rambling about photos again. I actually wanted to write you a Christmassy card, tell you how much I love you. But you know that, right? I know I was a little…judgemental in the beginning, but you know that you have found your way in my heart? Yoba, that was lame. Okay, you see, I struggle a lot putting these feelings into words because they are such…big feelings (jeewhizz, I sound like Emily), but…Let me try this differently. I am with you. I enjoy being with you. I love every day that we are together. You mean more to me than my camera, sunflowers and pink cake combined. There! I said it! And now I expect you to hold this card dear and never lose it, because I will not say this again. So, maybe I will, if you ask me. Or maybe right now, when you are sleeping so sweetly, your hair falling just right. How do you always manage this, getting your hair to fall like you are starring in an advertisement for freaking conditioner? You know what? That’s it. I am getting the camera, and then I am joining you. Merry X-Mas, babe. I love you. -Haley.”

Abigail: “I just don’t get how you do it. Really, I don’t. I watched you all night, and I am pretty sure your smile didn’t falter even once. Not even when my dad told you that stupid joke – “What did Santa pay for his sleigh? Nothing, it was on the house.” Ha ha, dad, really. See, it’s so stupid I even remember it by heart! Hey, I can’t deny that my parents love you, tho. Well done, I think you can sit at our table until the end of time now, sharing my fate. Fine, it wasn’t all that bad. I was having fun. A little. You made it better, you know? I felt like I finally had someone next to me that actually understands me. You always understand me, and I know you do. Speaking of…Yoba, if my parents only knew that you have taken me to the mines already you would lose that hard-earned spot at that damn table again. Especially if they knew what else we were doing down there… Oh, it gets me weak in the knees to just think about it. You were so rough with me… I know it was because you were worried because I wasn’t careful enough, but being choked against a stone wall? That was definitely something…Actually, I still remember that I had been barely able to walk back to the farm after you were done with me. What do you say? Does the handle of your sword still smell like me? I kinda wish it does… But it’s best if we keep this our pretty little secret, right? So you can keep the spot at our table and so that you can still take me to the mines. And perhaps so they can still let us be together with calm minds.  I wish that I could tell you that I look forward to spending many more Christmases with you, but that would be a lie. I do hope to spend many days with you, and that you can make many more Christmases a tolerable experience like today. You know, you mange to make many things that I hate tolerable. So…Thank you. Truly. I know I am a lot sometimes, but please know that I love you. A lot. A crazy lot. And I would do a crazy lot for you. But for now, I am going to crawl in bed with you. See what you say to the present purple-haired Santa will bring you tonight. Good night, bub. -Your Abby. PS: I could have totally beaten that slime myself. PPS: probably.”

Penny: “Do you remember last winter? We weren’t together yet, but we still shared a moment that is still very dear to me, hun. I had dropped my bookmark into the snow, it was a papery one, beige at that, so looking for it was a lost cause. You had come by on your horse and without any hesitation, you had jumped to help me. Of course, we didn’t find that bookmark ever again, and I had been really sad, it had been my favourite. You had told me you were sorry and stroked over my hair oh so gently, as if it had been your fault. Oh, I had already been swooning for you, then! And then the next day you had come by, smiling at me as you held something behind your back. You had told me that Santa had passed by early before you stretched out something, a Poppy, carefully pressed and wrapped in a foil to secure it. I didn’t know how you had done it back then (now I know you like growing flowers in your greenhouse, and I love sitting there), but I kept it dear to me. I like to think that this was the point our relationship got its roots, and that’s why I will always hold that bookmark dear. When I looked at you at the Feast today, the bookmark came back to my mind, and I felt like a realization hit me. Our relationship – it is like a book. A carefully crafted romance by life. The only difference is that, while I love books, I have never been as involved in one as I am in this one. I am here for every single page, and I am eating them all up. No matter if they consist of our little reading ritual in the evenings, our date nights, the things you have taught me about living on the farming, our fights and… the spicier parts of our relationship, hi hi. I haven’t told this anyone, and I trust you keep this secret, but I did actually read some more…passionate books, but it never quite resonated with me. Until I met you. I don’t know what’s happening to me when we are naked, I am usually well composed, I think, but when you let me sit on your thigh, or when you guide our…ehe…you know, to grind against one another, something happens in my brain. It’s like a short-circuit, and I find myself wanting more, more, more. Ever since I have met you, I have also been feeling a lot more…lustful. But only for you! I tried to replicate these feelings you give me by reading books a few times, but I have never managed to do it. Weird, isn’t it? However! This isn’t y main point – my main point is that I love you. I love you more than a library of a million books holds words. I hope our personal book will fill more and more. I hope we will be able to fill our own personal library. I just want you to know: You are my favourite; book, topic, genre. It doesn’t matter. You are my favourite. ~With purest love, Penny.”

[mischiefmaker615]

Hiii! You popped up on my home page again and I was once again choking on your wonderful writing. I have a thing for your Musical Mischief series!

I Caught Myself -Paramore.

I totally get it if this doesn't bring any inspiration, but if it does, I'd love to read it! Much love.<3

I Caught Myself

Summary: When Loki finds his "babysitter" asleep, does he dare take that risk of freedom?

Rating: PG14

Requester: @nervouseden

Inspiration Request: "I Caught Myself" by Paramore

Note: NGL this one was a bit tricky to think of a plot *sweats* hope it will do..

Loki's POV

The only sound that could be heard was from the soft steps I made down yet another hall in search of Y/N. Those heroes have departed for the day and yet the tower has been left unnaturally quiet. I wouldn’t so much as trouble myself if danger was to happen in their absence but the very creature I do so happen to favor- and quite frankly wouldn’t want to see harmed- is nowhere to be found.

Calling her name would show me as desperate, weak, wanting in the fact that I seek out a mortal’s presence. Ohh but she is no mere mortal..

I often think about how different she is when time grants itself to my mind. Her fragrance lingers in the senses where It almost caresses and beckons. Her hair sways practically in time with her hips while she walks. Her dainty hands fidgets with things when she is deep thinking or trying to distract herself. She does that a lot when she finds me watching her..

Her uncomfortableness often amuses me; it’s hardly disgust, her cheeks redden to much for it to be anything negative to my stares. From her body language, she’s often shown me how much affect I have on her and all I merely do is just watch her. I don’t often catch myself doing it, she almost seems to have this way of grabbing my attention without myself even realizing it first.

She’s the only one I give a word to, actually hold my tongue and offer a series of replies whenever she finds herself wishing to speak with me. Why? Unlike the others, I have found no sign of her holding any fear or anger towards me. I’ve had to question myself if my abilities to read others have diminished but with her conversations and approaches seeming.. heartfelt, my body normally relaxes when she’s brought herself to my presence.

I gave no argument when the Iron Idiot had presented the idea of her being the one to keep an eye on me. Even now with that thought, I couldn’t help but smirk with the idea that they think I need a babysitter. I’ve been here to many months to count and they still can’t find themselves to let go with the idea that as soon as I step foot outside, the world would burn once again.

The thought has crossed my mind often but somehow it often drifts back to Y/N.. the mere thought of her injured causes a tight pain within my chest. I wouldn’t even be willing to take the risk of world domination again with the fact that collateral must always be taken in account.

She would be a risk.

Leaving rather than ruling would be more like it.

I have entered the main room to which one would see first if they came to this domain and I almost gave up finding her if it hadn’t been for the soft sound of breathing and that glorious scent catching my attention. Slowing my steps even more, I approach the back of the couch where a book lays open upon the table and the sleeping form of Y/N is spread out amongst me.

My eyes didn’t hesitate to drop at her form; an arm is raised above her head while the other is draped over her waist. She is laying on her side, still in her day clothes which immediately told me she must have fallen asleep. The sight was quite.. alluring, if I am to be honest with myself. If we were in a perfect world, I would have probably gathered her in my arms and finally got a taste of those lushes lips my eyes so often drift too.

But I couldn’t risk not having her feelings reciprocated.. although humans are incredibly easy to read, she was very much a difficult one to figure out. it’s probably why I favor her presence so much. She is not bland, nor boring. It’s quite the thrill when I am presenting with a fact about her I hadn’t quite beat her to figuring out. even now my eyes move forward to find the book on the table and I smile to myself.

She is almost half way through and was one I’ve let her borrow back in a previous conversation I quite enjoyed. I don’t often find others enjoying books as much as I do, let alone a human- with its technology replacing paper every day.

She’s different.. she has full control of my body without my mind being able to convince it otherwise.

My hands have been gripping the back of the couch for awhile now, blood rushing back to my fingers when I remove one to slowly drift down to her sleeping form. It shouldn’t have lingered as long as it did, but I relished in the feeling of her beautiful hair brushing against my skin while I return a lock back behind her ear. Her skin looks so soft and smooth and my finger tips tingle with the growing urge and idea of feeling her more.

Turning my back to her helped my growing evidence of what she truly does to me, my eyes eventually resting upon to elevator that was merely just a few feet away.

How easy it could be..

How easy it could be to just take advantage with the heroes gone, my dear babysitter asleep and I merely free to walk out those doors without so much of a sound or a hint. I could perhaps start a life somewhere.. under an identity though a simple spell I’d apply daily. No one would no, no one would find me, perhaps no one would eventually remember me once the hunt was given up.

My eyes slowly move over my shoulder, taking in the sight once more of her glorious form and with thoughts if she’d even miss me, or so much as think of me. Her eyes were always full of kindness, not once have I been able to detect a lie or trick. She was genuine.. how did she find herself to be amongst these mortal savages..

On Asgard, she would have been for certain courted, second glanced and snatched up within a second upon joining a festival. Id worry every waking second if she wasn’t at my side that I may be bested, stolen from, or perhaps she’d find someone better.. yet she’s never truly had me think of myself that way..

Around her, I feel more heard than I had in my entire childhood. Seen, more than I had when I had attended the court.. loved.. perhaps even if it were to be within a friendship..

If that is all she has to offer, than I am to accept it in abundance..

My eyes drifted back to the elevator. Freedom within just a few steps..

“I don’t know what I want..’’ my voice but whispered yet deep down in denial, I did know.

Which is why I found myself slowly walking around the couch, sitting myself in the spot she offered while her legs stayed bent yet comfortable. She rather seemed to enjoy curling herself when she was asleep, and I couldn’t help but smile before I was reminded perhaps she was cold and wasn’t prepared for the unexpected wave of exhaustion. Instinctually I conjured a blanket to wrap around her, the familiar green color having to be explained if she were to wake up and find it.

What would I tell her?

‘I found you asleep and thought you might be in need of a blanket?’ of course not.. I wish not for the image of going soft.. I then thought I may perhaps place her in her proper bed, but that would come with trouble in its own. ‘you entered my bedroom without permission’ she may say.. no.. Y/N has always been one to think positive..

“it’s the thought that counts at least’’ she often quoted and I couldn’t help but feel the smile tug at my lips again, my hand having been resting on her hip the entire time since I’ve sat down.

What was she doing to me.. her mere presence has me under some sort of spell of some sorts.. a few months ago I may have had this woman on her knees, now all she has me wanting is to be sinking onto my own..

I took the risk.

I felt myself leaning over her, my hand moving to curl at her hip and the other by her shoulder before my actions froze, watching how she slowly stirred and hummed in her sleep. Sweet thing.. what do you dream about.. with my body frozen as to not wake her, she then turned a little, the hand having been above her head coming now and merely rest upon mine beside her hip.

My breath hitched, her hands being as soft and gentle as I’ve imagined they would and my eyes closed to relish in the feeling alone. I could feel her fingers slightly gripped my wrist, almost as if her body was aware of the touch it was giving and my mind imagined her grip somewhere else.

I was not in a position to easily hide my physical reaction towards her without waking her up. I only prayed to the gods her light prodding that now ghosted her beautiful ass wouldn’t be enough to wake her up or stir anymore- before gods knew my control could be worn thin in mere seconds if I let it slip.

‘’gods Y/N.. what are you doing to me..’’ I breathed, trying to ignore my erection while I slowly leaned myself down, hovering over her so I could inhale slowly that scent I loved so much. ‘’I thought I didn’t know what I wanted... You're pushing and pulling me down to you.. making me think things I never should have thought.. what do you want?” I whisper, almost convincing myself I’d get an answer while her eyes remained shut and her lips parted ever so slightly.

‘’I want you Y/N..’’ I whisper, my eyes not even straining while they remained on her face. I knew the door to freedom was right there, but everything within myself told me this is where freedom was.. with her..

‘’whenever you may realize it, I’ll be here..’’ I promised, allowing myself to lean more, my body barely brushing against hers before I lightly brushed my lips against her soft cheek, everything in my power held me back from adding more pressure or moving them down to her awaiting lips before I allowed myself to sit back up.

Looking down at her hand that gripped mine, I slowly turned it enough so I could also place a kiss upon her knuckles, finding everything about her soft and sweet before I carefully placed her hand down and freed my own.

She is perfect.. and will be fine someday.. if I am to wait longer than I am to wait to gain freedom, so be it. I’d rather live a life of imprisonment if it meant she was to be promised to me than to walk out and find her gone too. Perhaps I am not so trapped here, one may think she was trapped here with me.

And by the gods all hell will break lose if someone dare take her away.

DM a song for your own Loki Musical Mischief one shot :D 

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing

[pigeonwhumps]

Secret Santa Snippet 2024

Secret Santa snippet for @kaiwewi! I hope you like it!

Prompt: A hero and a villain team up to confront a civilian who's writing an insane amount of fanfiction about them

918 words

"Well, hello there."

Civilian jumps at the voice in their ear. The seductive, sultry, melodical tone that fills the videos in the corner of their laptop screen.

They spin around.

Villain's lounging against the doorway, a smirk on his face.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Civilian swallows nervously. "No. No, nothing at all." As Villain shifts slightly, they slam a hand down on their laptop, abruptly remembering its contents. "Can I– can I help you with something?"

"Maybe. You're Civilian, correct?"

Civilian gulps, nods. Villain knows them by name. Why?

There's a low chuckle from someone behind him. Civilian flinches, then feels themself heat up at the absurdity of the reaction. It's just a laugh.

"Stop scaring the civilian, Villain." Hero sounds amused as they push their way past Villain, coming to stand by Civilian's window. Civilian doesn't miss how this covers both of their exits.

Them working together is near-unheard-of in public, but Civilian makes a mental note to include it in something later.

Hero smiles disarmingly.

"Hello, Civilian. How are you doing?"

Civilian swallows.

"Um. Hi. I'm fine."

"Good, good. You're panicking. Don't. We just want a quick word."

"Um. Okay. What about?" They want to deny their feelings but Hero will know. Empathic powers. It's the source of their emotions, all the confessions...

Hero's blinding smile drops into something much more serious, and Civilian's stomach plummets with it. Oh shit. Oh shit. What have they done?

"Your writing habits."

"More specifically, where they regard us." The 'us' is punctuated by a flash of white teeth.

Civilian tries to inch out of their seat, though they know there's no hope against Villain. Maybe they can get closer to Hero...

Villain places a hand down on the table beside them, blocking their exit, and just stares. Somehow, that's the most menacing thing he could do.

"It's just a hobby!" they burst out, babbling. "I just– I just like to write, I don't mean anything by it!"

Villain rolls his eyes and opens up the laptop, scrolling through the open tabs.

"Videos. More videos. Ooh look, a forum. And your *word document*. I wonder what you're writing now."

He bends over to look closer, humming. Civilian wants to sink into the floor. Better still, into the centre of the Earth and scrub this night from their memories entirely.

Hero crosses their arms.

"Villain. *Behave.*"

Villain sighs, but draws back, looking mutinous. In a dim corner of their mind, Civilian wonders what the arrangement was. Neither seems happy with it.

"I– I can stop. If you really want me to."

Villain opens their mouth, receives a glare from Hero, shuts it with a snap. Despite what they said, Civilian starts to make mental notes of all of this, all the minute body language and conversation between them, because this– this could really up the realism. Make everything in their writing so much more real. And it fits so well! They're so accurate!

"It's your private life," begins Hero, "and what you do with it is your own affair. Really, this shouldn't be any of our business, except people just have to keep showing us." A fact Civilian knew, and has never been sure what to think about, but one look at both faces and it's– it's definitely bad. "And wow. You write so much. So–"

"What do you see in us?"

Civilian stares. So does Hero, looking thrown. Civilian is suddenly, 100% certain that this wasn't part of the plan.

"Villain..."

Villain ignores them. "You're by far the most prolific writer. So why do you do it? What do you see? Besides the whole 'enemies-to-lovers' thing, which is ridiculous if that's your only reason, by the way, there's way better tropes out there."

Civilian swallows, throat dry. What do they say? The truth? A lie about it being a joke? Hero would probably see through that. What if their reasons aren't good enough, will Villain kill them? No, no, Hero wouldn't allow that. Would they?

"Stop looking like I'm the last thing you'll ever see and tell me."

Hero rolls their eyes. "I won't let him kill you. Melodramatic much."

Right. Right. No deaths. Not that Hero's words are very reassuring.

"You um. You're always fighting each other. And I mean, you're nemeses but Villain doesn't fight anyone else. You once waited three hours for Hero to turn up, just repelling everyone else with a forcefield, because you wanted a 'proper fight'. You send each other Valentine's Day gifts, and okay they're not what one might call traditional courting gifts, but still. Villain, whenever you're injured Hero avoids hitting that spot, even though it'd be an easy win, and Hero, you always go slow when Villain's ill. There's footage. And when was the last time you monologued for anyone but Hero, Villain? Your displays for everyone else are lackluster in comparison. You clearly enjoy each other's company at the very least. And I know that could all be platonic but just... it's fun to imagine... and..." Civilian trails off uncertainly as the tips of Hero's ears, the only thing visible under their mask, turn bright pink and they rush out of the room.

"Do not move one inch," growls Villain, not even ensuring Civilian will obey before running after Hero.

New writing ideas chase themselves around Civilian's mind, but only as an undercurrent now. Is this real. Is this really, actually, real?

They pinch themself. Ow.

And another thing.

How long is it going to be until Villain gets back?

[the-universal-sun]

OOH I got another goodie! Can we get a regressed fidds? He regresses because he had a panic attack due to thinking he will lose stan (mullet stan) cause he lost his bookworm, got divorced by his wife and lost tate, he heart couldn't handle loosing stan! So he clings to stan and when stan tries to move away fidds freaks and begs his lee not to leave ):

Thank you so much for you request, I loved writing it! I do need to write more little! fidds, he's such an adorable little guy :) I hope I did your request justice here! And I hope it wasn't too heavy at times-I'm always worried about that. Merry Christmas and please enjoy reading!

As always, I am welcome to helpful advice and critiques! Happy Holidays to everyone!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Fiddleford sobbed, clutching Missy, his stuffed Racoon, tightly to his chest. Stan said he was just going to the store to pick up juice and snacks, and that was over an hour ago! He must've gotten tired of Fiddleford and his anxiety and his crying and now he's gone and he's never coming back! Fiddleford is going to be all alone again, just like before. He feels like he's standing on a precipice, teetering near the edge in pure despair. He should've known, Emma May left him and took Tater Tot, who doesn't even want to see him, his Bookworm left him and may be gone forever , and now his Bubba left him! He's going to be alone forever and ever and ever! Fiddleford tries to take deep breaths, his chest aching and hurting making it almost impossible-he's starting to feel lightheaded.

     "Fidds! I'm home!" It's Bubba! He came back, he didn't leave Fidds! "Apparently this place has a "Pioneer Day" and they wouldn't let me drive through town, so it took longer than-OOF!" Fidds doesn't comprehend Stan's words, clumsily getting up and barreling into Stan, he would've knocked him over if Stan hadn't widened his stance to counterbalance. "Whoa, Sweetums! Where's the fire-are you crying? Fiddleford-what happened? Was it a bad memory or-or are you hurt? I-" Stan pauses, his brow furrowing in concern when he sees the stuffed Racoon clutched tightly in Fidds' hands, his blubbering combined with that is what puts it together for Stan. He's not talking to Dr. Fiddleford H McGucket, he's talking to his Little Fella, to Fidds. "Hey," Stan softens his voice, "what's the matter, hmm? Come on, tell your Bubba." Stan's softer voice coupled with reassuring talk is usually enough to get through to him, but it seems as if the usual reassurances are slipping away into the distance, Fiddleford too overwhelmed to comprehend. Stan tries to move Fidds back so he can get a look at him-making sure he didn't actually get hurt while he was gone. What he didn't expect was to be met with such a violent and out-of-character reaction from his Sweetie.

     "No! No! No!" Fidds clings tighter as Stan goes to move him back. The yelling in his ear causes him to instinctively flinch and move back even more to escape the loud noise. This only causes Fidds' yelling and crying to get worse. He collapses on the floor and clings to Stan's legs, hugging him tight with a piercing, "NOOOOO!" followed by hysterical sobbing. At this point, Stan's panicking, too, his chest tight and throat constricting. He doesn't know what he did wrong, he doesn't even know what happened when he was gone, what made Fidds drop and get him in such a state.

     "Hey, Fella! Come on now, let's try to calm down, yeah?" Stan bends down, trying to get level with Fidds and get him to calm his crying and breathe. When soft cooing doesn't work, Stan doesn't know what else to do aside from grasp his shoulders and pull the taller man into him, gathering him in his arms-Fiddleford may be taller than Stan, but he's all gangly limbs-standing up and hobbling-he's still a full grown man-to the living room, collapsing on the armchair with Fidds, still sobbing, in his lap. Stan is torn up inside, listening to the other one cry feels like a rusted blade is tearing its way through his insides, he clings to Fiddleford just as hard as he's being clung to, almost hoping his presence and suffocating hug is enough to calm his Little Guy down, just enough so he can tell him what's eating at him, maybe then Stan can punch away anything that's hurt or scared Fidds.

     “Bubba…” Fidds whispered, his voice trembling. He clung to Stan’s shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric for dear life. The world around him faded, everything sharpening into a singular focus—Stan. Bubba. “You’re not-not gonna-not gonna leave me, right?” Panic seeped into his words, heavy and suffocating. "Please! Please don't leave me! Don' wanna be- a-alone anymore!" He begged, words jumped by his hiccups, clutching and burying himself in Stan's chest again-too scared to look into his eyes and see disgust or annoyance. He doesn't want his Bubba to be mad or annoyed at him, it's just-he chokes back a sob into a moan-panic stifling his breathing. He loves Stan so much, so much so that it hurts sometimes. And he knows rationally that Stan would say something if he wasn't happy, but he isn't rational, his thoughts just eat away and eat away at him sometimes. And this thought won't go away, and he wants it to go away! He doesn't want to think about not having Bubba no more, not being tucked in or-or read to anymore. The thought causes him to burst into another round of sobs.

     Stan's heart ached even more, his chest even tighter, at the sight before him. Was this what got Fidds in such a tizzy? The thought that he might abandon him? Stan would never do that, hell, he's lucky Fiddleford wants to stick around with him. He couldn't even bring himself to think of any situation that would make him turn away his Lil' Guy, the thought of that scenario is enough to make Stan's eyes sting and his breath hitch. He reached out, bringing his arms around the scrawny man on his lap and absolutely crushing him against him, nuzzling his head against the top of Fidds' head and pressing deep kisses on his hair. "Never." Stan's voice is rough with an emotion neither of them can name at that moment. "I'm not goin' anywhere, not without my Little Man, alright?" Fidds unburied his head from his Bubba's chest, laying it on his shoulder so he could nuzzle it in return-and so he can feel the breathing against his ear and match it. His chest hurts and his head feels dizzy from how hard he was crying and from how hard it was to breathe. "You can trust me when I say this," Stan clutches Fidds tighter, "unless there comes a day when you want to stop, I will never let you go. I promise you this, nothin' crossed, Fiddleford." Stan manages to get Fidds to lean back enough to look him in the eyes. To make his point.

     Fidds looks at Bubba, he's got his serious-serious face on. The face reserved for when something in his lab gets blown up when he's there. Fidds knows this means business, that he's serious, no fingers, toes, tongues, or eyes crossed. And that tickles Fidds more than anything, knowing his Bubba isn't crossing anything while making a promise to him, this means he has to keep the promise-those were the rules and his Bubba has never broken a promise rule. This is what calms his breathing down enough for him to get in those deep breaths his brain and body need, enough to collapse against Stan's warm chest while comforting and grounding hands stroke his hair. The grip of panic loosened ever so slightly, though he still clings to Stan's so tightly-scared of letting go.

Fidds knows these icky thoughts will come up again, but in this moment where he's being hugged and rocked so tightly by his Bubba? While his head is being kissed and such nice words are being whispered in his ears? Those thoughts seem like such a silly thing to worry about. He's not alone, not here at this moment. Not with Bubba.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Yule Lodge - Part One

A PEDROSTORIES SECRET SANTA GIFT FIC

A/N: As always, a big thank you to the moderators of @pedrostories for organizing this event! It's always a lot of fun and definitely helps put me in the holiday spirit every year. I can't wait to see what others have created for this event! This story kind of completely ran away from me, so as you can see, this is only the beginning. I hope my fic recipient doesn't mind, but it's looking like a three part story, which I'm aiming to get the rest of posted within the next few days. Now, if you'll all suspend disbelief with me, there's a very exclusive, high-end Bed & Breakfast I'd like you all to visit...

Gift Tag: SURPRISE @covetyou ! I was your Secret Santa for the Pedrostories gift swap! You gave me so many great prompts and ideas to run with, but the ones that stuck out most to me were "Magic is real" and "chaotic meet cute". Out of the characters that you listed, Ezra and Dieter seemed like likely candidates, and that's where my top secret anonymous ask where I made you choose emojis with no context came into play. You (blindly) choose Dieter, and I am so glad that you did because I have been having a blast writing this for you and I truly hope that you enjoy it! Wishing you a very Merry Christmas, the happiest of holiday seasons and only the best in the New Year, lovely!!

Warnings: brief mention of infidelity (not Dieter or Reader!) cannabis consumption, I think that's it for now ;)

Word Count: 5,416

Summary: Last minute holiday travel plans sure can be chaotic sometimes. In some cases, it can even seem as though there is some kind of supernatural intervention going on. But that's crazy... Right?

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Wherever the fuck here is. 

As the cab pulled up to its destination, Dieter rolled his forehead against the rear passenger side window to get a better view of the place, ignoring the way that the chill from the glass sunk into his skin. His eyes narrowed, then blinked wide as he took in the Dickensian looking Bed and Breakfast. 

Well it’s sure as shit not the Savoy. 

That was where he was supposed to be staying. That was where he had asked Cori, his assistant, to book him a suite from the 23rd to the 26th. That was where he had been planning to spend his Christmas, sprawled in a king sized bed wearing baggy pajama pants, devouring snowflake shaped THC infused sugar cookies, watching old movies and ordering room service until the holiday was good and over. Just like he’d done almost every year for the previous two decades. 

And to her credit, Cori had booked him that suite. She’d done it months ago, when she made the travel arrangements for the press tour that had brought him to London in the first place. He was there to promote Getaway Man - the must see action-thriller that was set to open worldwide on Christmas Day, and that was already receiving Oscar buzz - with two of his co-stars. They had both gone straight to the airport following the final round of interviews, though, anxious and eager to get back home in time for holiday celebrations with their families. But Dieter had planned to do just the opposite from the get go, so all he had to do was check out of one hotel, travel a few blocks, and check into another one. Cori had sent him receipts along with his itinerary, and his stay at the Savoy had been on both of them. 

It wasn’t a booking issue that caused the last minute switcharoo. Or, rather, it wasn’t an issue with the room that Dieter had booked. It actually had to do with another guest’s reservation - his ex-wife’s. Or, rather (again), it had to do with a reservation made by Anika’s new husband, fellow actor Mark Atlas. 

And people say my last name is bullshit. 

Anyway, apparently Mark found out that Dieter was going to be staying at the Savoy while he and Anika were also going to be there, and promptly threw a Hollywood sized hissy fit about the “optics” of the three of them spending Christmas under the same roof. Something about “not wanting to put Anika through the ordeal of being around Dieter.” As though he was the one who had shocked her by asking for the divorce. 

As though I was the one who cheated. 

It was far more likely that Map Man was worried about his sweet, innocent wife “accidentally” bumping into Dieter under the mistletoe in the middle of the night, than he was about putting her through anything. 

And for the record, even if she had tumbled into Dieter’s lap wearing nothing but a couple of strategically placed Christmas ribbons, he wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it. He wasn’t like Mark. He didn’t need - or want - to fuck someone else’s wife. 

No. This had nothing to do with Atlas looking out for Anika, and Dieter knew it. This was about Hollywood’s new favorite golden boy snapping his fingers and getting what he wanted at Dieter’s expense. Dieter’s body of work since the Cliff Beasts fiasco may have been award worthy, his performances lauded by critics and fans alike. But Mark Atlas had just signed on to a six movie deal in a superhero franchise that already had comic cons selling out despite the fact that he hadn’t been announced to the panel yet. The first film in the series hadn’t even been released but McDonald’s already had the fucking action figures in their goddamn happy meals. 

In short, Atlas was the bigger, shinier, more family friendly name at the moment. And in show business, the moment was all that mattered. 

So even though Dieter had checked into his room at the Savoy earlier that day without issue, and despite the fact that he’d already changed into his baggiest pair of pajama pants and shaggy green robe, the call from the front desk still came. It wasn’t a demand that he leave. It wasn’t even really a suggestion. The manager had simply stated that another guest expressed concern over the “possibility of a negative encounter with Dieter”, and asked if he would like to cancel his stay for a full refund, plus a complimentary three night stay at a time of his choosing. 

Good to know I’m still shiny enough that they didn’t want to piss me off entirely. 

He didn’t need to bother asking the manager which guest had expressed that particular concern. There was only one person Dieter could think of who both held that kind of sway, and disliked him enough to purposely derail his holiday. He knew it was Mark. 

Even though I have no idea why that fucker hates me so damn much. He fucking won. 

Though the thought of spitefully refusing to leave just to screw with Atlas was tempting, Dieter just wasn’t in the mood for a big dramatic debacle. And even though it hurt to know that Anika was seemingly fine with Mark’s treatment of him, he didn’t want to give in and invite the negative encounter that Mark was setting him up for. 

Instead, he told the manager that he’d check out as soon as he found a new hotel, and took the man up on the offer for a future stay. He then promptly texted Cori to fill her in on everything and crossed his fingers in hopes that she had some secret backup options up her sleeve. The fact that it was mere hours away from Christmas Eve in one of the world’s busiest cities made it a tall order, and he was aware of that. But Cori had proven time and time again that tall orders were her specialty, so Dieter was cautiously hopeful. 

When his phone rang in his hand a few minutes later, he ceased his pacing to answer it. 

“Cori?” He plopped down on the edge of the bed as he spoke, hardly holding back a groan at how goddamn comfortable the mattress was. Can’t believe I don’t even get to sleep on it. “Please tell me you found something else.” He flopped all the way back, sinking into the down-filled duvet. Oh, fuck you, Mark. “I really don’t want to have to come back to-“ 

“Actually,” an unfamiliar female voice cut him off. “My name is Ivy, Mr. Bravo. I work for Cori. She asked me to handle finding you a new place to stay since she flew home yesterday to be at her son’s-“ 

“School holiday show.” Dieter mumbled, covering his eyes and scrubbing his hand back over his forehead and into his hair. Fuck, I knew that. “Yeah, that’s right, she told me.” 

It had come up a few times as the press tour was winding down, the woman clearly looking forward to being able to be there for her kid’s performance. Though that kind of life was about as far from his own as he could imagine, Dieter admired the way that Cori prioritized being present for her kids as much as possible. He knew that being with her family made her happy, so he was glad that that’s where she was. But wait…

“Hang on.” Dieter propped himself up on one elbow. “I didn’t know Cori had anyone working for her.” She’d been his assistant for over ten years, and he never once heard her mention the name Ivy. Not that she wouldn’t need help. I’m not always the easiest. 

She let out a silver-bell laugh, the sound high and tingling. “Well that’s because I’m good at what I do, and so is Cori. Usually I get to stay behind the scenes, but this was a-” 

“A clusterfuck?” Dieter supplied, slumping back down again. 

“I was going to say a special case.” She laughed again. “Trust me, I’ve seen fuckier clusters.” 

He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or not, nor was he sure if it actually did. Switching the phone to speaker and laying it on his chest, he crossed both arms over his eyes. “Does that mean you have a backup place for me?” He crossed his fingers as he waited for her response. 

“It does, Mr. Bravo, I-” 

“You can just call me Dieter, Ivy. Actually, please just call me Dieter. And-” Her words clicked then, and he bolted up to both elbows, sending his phone sliding down to his stomach. “Wait, did you say yes?”

“I did,” Ivy confirmed. Fuck yeah! “But it’s a little unconventional.” 

Dieter sat all the way up, reaching for his phone before it could fall between his legs and down to the floor. Lifting it level with his mouth, he cocked his head to the side. “What does that mean?”

Ivy cleared her throat. “It’s not a hotel, per say.” Okay… “More like a high end, exclusive bed and breakfast. And technically it’s just outside the city.” 

Dieter grimaced, clunking the edge of his phone to his forehead. A bed and breakfast? Like… With other people? And shared common rooms and… He considered his other option - flying back to L.A. and going home to his empty house - and the grimace deepened. “How exclusive is exclusive?” 

“Pretty private. The place is an old Victorian mansion. It accommodates guests in four suites, but I was told that only one other room is booked at the moment.” 

He sighed, bringing his phone back down to his lips. I guess this is the best I can hope for. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Ivy questioned. “Does that mean I should go ahead and call them?” 

Dieter dropped his phone into the fluffy bedding beside him. “Yes. Please.” He stood, rubbing at one eye. “And can you also call me a car? I don’t-” 

“Of course,” she answered. “Consider it done.” 

“Great.” It was far from great, but it would have to do. “I really appreciate it, Ivy.” That part was 100% true. 

“My pleasure! I’ll go ahead and communicate with the Savoy staff, too, that way everyone is on the same page. Oh, and I’ll update Cori, of course.” 

“Perfect.” Again, it wasn’t. Perfect was the thread count of the sheets he was leaving behind. Perfect was the five-star service he wouldn’t be receiving. Perfect was the way the champagne chiller always had ice in it and the towels were always warm and fluffy. But it beats the shit out of going home. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Hopefully you won’t need me again, so I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas now.” 

“Um, yeah.” Dieter sniffed. “Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ll uh…” He raised his arms and then dropped them to his sides. “I’ll try not to offend the other guest with my presence so I won’t have to bother you again.” 

“Never a bother, Dieter. I’m always happy to help when you need it.” 

With that, she ended the call, and Dieter was left to gather his things and wait for the car to come pick him up and bring him to the secret, backup, break-in-case-of-clusterfuck location that Ivy had procured for him. 

Looking up at the place once he arrived and got out of the car, Dieter really wished he’d asked her a few more questions before telling her to make the call. 

Snowflakes fell slowly through the air as he stood there in his pajama pants with his thick, plush brown fleece pulled over his robe and his bag slung over his shoulder, staring at the sign affixed to the side of the building. “The Yule Lodge”, he read aloud, rolling his eyes at the stylized flame surrounding the name of the B&B, an obvious play on words. “Shit, that’s cheesy.” 

The building itself looked as though it only existed at Christmastime - the cornices catching the fresh snow in picture perfect banks, the candles illuminating the windows like something off a holiday card, garlands of greenery wrapped around the porch railing and draped over the doorway. So if any place was going to have a name that stunk of cheddar, he figured this was the one. I mean… He tilted his head to take the sight in. It’s festive as fuck, that’s for sure. 

Not that that part mattered. He still planned to spend the next few days sprawled out like a starfish in bed, waiting out the holiday. Even if it means doing it here. 

He turned to wave a thanks to the driver who had dropped him off, only to find that the car was gone. Huh? That’s weird, I didn’t hear the tires… He shrugged. Whatever. He’d already had one of the snowflake cookies before the whole Mark Atlas shitstorm started, so he chalked missing the car driving away up to that kicking in and giving him tunnel vision for the building’s campy signage. 

With a sigh that turned into a visible white puff in the chilly air, Dieter climbed the two small steps and reached for the door handle. Alright. Here we go. Combing one hand through his hair, he shook the snow from his curls, stepped inside, and looked around. Oh, holy shit. 

The B&B’s cheery exterior had nothing on the inside. 

Wreaths, garlands, and sprigs of greenery adorned walls, windows, railings and the carved, wooden mantel of a roaring fireplace that spread a warm, golden glow throughout the whole space. Deep red velvet ribbons added lush pops of color, as did the gilded candlesticks atop the mantel. A bowl of clove-studded oranges sat as the centerpiece of the coffee table in front of the fire, and the smell of spice and citrus wafted through the air to fully warm his senses. 

To top it all off, a towering spruce tree stood in the corner of the room, lit by dozens of lights that were made to look like candles. Bows and baubles dressed the evergreen’s branches to elegant but cozy perfection. In a way, it was difficult to imagine what the room would look like - or feel like - without all the holiday decorations. 

He may have been trying to avoid acknowledging Christmas as much as possible, but Dieter couldn’t help but admit that the staff there had outdone themselves. It was fucking beautiful. If you’re into that kinda thing.

“Welcome to the Yule Lodge, Mr. Bravo.” 

Suddenly, a voice greeted him from somewhere to his left, making him jump and turn towards the sound. What? Who said tha- Oh. He’d been too distracted by the elaborate decorations to realize that he’d walked straight past the front desk and the smiling woman standing behind it. Right. I need to check in. 

Clearing his throat, he crossed the room to stand in front of the desk. “Um, thanks-” He glanced down at the golden nameplate that was pinned to the woman’s green cardigan. “-Laurel.” He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and leaned on the counter. “I guess you spoke with Ivy?” 

Laurel nodded, her curls bouncing. “I did. We’ve got you all set in room two until the 26th.” 

“Great.” He flashed her a smile. “Do you need a credit card now, or do I just pay when I check out, or-” 

Laurel’s curls swung as she shook her head. “No need for that right now, Mr. Bravo.”

At check out, then. “Okay.” He tapped the countertop with his fingertips. “In that case, can I get the room key? I’m about ready to-”

“Of course!” Laurel spun around to grab a key from one of four hooks, one of which was empty. Guess that means the other guest is already checked in. She spun back, key in hand, but stopped short of passing it to Dieter. “I just need to go over a few things with you about the Lodge first.” 

Dieter felt his shoulders slump. I’m being punished. I just want to get stoned and sleep and I’m being fucking punished. “Uh…Okay.” He sighed. “What, um… What do I need to know?”

Laurel launched into a run down of the Yule Lodge’s rules and amenities. Fully stocked kitchen and bar, chef-prepared meals for breakfast and dinner, fireplaces in the parlor, library and… something to do with the candles in the windows? She was saying something about a small holly wreath while holding it up with his key when Dieter’s attention was stolen completely by the creak of the stairs just visible beyond the parlor, and the stunning woman who was descending them - you. 

Huh. He blinked, watching the way your hand slid down the railing as you took the last few steps. Maybe it won’t be all bad, staying here. You looked up then, making quick, unintentional eye contact, and Dieter felt himself grin at the way your eyes widened when they met his, your mouth falling open in slight shock. Your tongue darted out to lick at your lips, and then you quickly slipped into another room. The library, maybe? 

But just when he had convinced himself to go throw his stuff upstairs and then come back down to see if you were still there - and maybe ask if you wanted to have a drink with him - he saw you slip back up the stairs with a book in hand, and his grin fell into a frown. Oh, well. Guess I’ll stick to the plan. 

By then, thankfully, Laurel was finished with her spiel, and she finally handed over the key, along with the small holly wreath. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Bravo. I hope it’s exactly what you need it to be.” 

I have no idea what that means but… “Thanks.” He smiled, nodding as he took the key from her. “Have a good night, Laurel.” 

With that, he headed upstairs to his room, where he promptly tossed the key and the little wreath onto the dresser, shucked his coat off, and collapsed into the bed with a groan. It wasn’t the plush, pillowy cloud bed he was supposed to be sleeping in, but for the next few days it would do just fine. And who knows? Your face popped into his head. Maybe I won’t spend the whole time holed up in here after all.

– – – 

You weren’t supposed to be here. 

And I’m not even sure I understand why or how I am but… 

You rolled over in the big, soft bed and gazed out the window as flurries fell outside. The picturesque grounds were covered in a thin white blanket of fresh snow, and the glow from the lamppost along with the flicker of the candle on the windowsill threw golden halos of light against the darkness in a way that warmed you through. 

I’m really glad that I am. 

Traveling solo was somewhat out of character for you. Doing it at Christmas - and missing your family’s annual holiday party - made that even more true. Add in the last minute nature of the trip, and it was no wonder that your parents and siblings (and probably your nosey aunt and cousins, too) were having a hard time accepting your decision to spend Christmas abroad by yourself. It simply wasn’t like you. 

Which was, of course, the whole point. You wanted a change, had been looking for a way to shake things up. It wasn’t that you were unhappy with anything in your life. You had a job that you enjoyed and that paid you well, owned a house that you had turned into a home, and had a close group of friends who you knew would be there for you no matter what. But what you wanted, or maybe what you needed, was a little adventure. A measured dose of the unknown. A play from out of left field. 

Because even though you were happy with the things that you had, there was a part of you that felt like you only had most of those things because you followed some predetermined script for your life. Graduate from a good school, get a respectable job, buy and maintain a home… It was all good stuff, and you took none of it for granted. But sometimes it felt a little too similar to the board game version of Life, spinning the wheel and plopping your little plastic car along the path, collecting socially acceptable experiences along the way. 

Even the last few vacations you took weren’t really vacations. You’d had to travel for three separate destination weddings in the last year and a half. And then there was the trip your grandma surprised the whole family with, which was extremely nice, but was also extremely mandatory. So not only did you not get to choose the when or where of your last four trips, you didn’t have much say in the what to do part, either. 

You deserved to do something unexpected and just for you. So when you got the unexpected news that you’d won an all expense paid trip to London to spend Christmas in a quaint, Victorian-style B&B, you chose to act on it. 

I don’t even remember entering the contest, but… You glanced around the room and ran your hands over the quilted comforter. But I’m here. It’s real. So I must have. 

You thought back to the voicemail you’d received a few weeks prior, and how you almost deleted it without calling back to follow up. It seemed like a scam. And even if it wasn’t, you were sure that there was no way it could actually be free. You figured it had to do with a timeshare or some marketing promo where you could win a free trip after spending a crazy amount of money on rental cars or luggage. But a curious little voice from the back of your brain piped up and told you to at least Google the phone number first. 

And when you did that, and it didn’t link you to numerous Reddit posts about scam callers or direct you to a clearly phony website, but instead brought you to a completely legitimate page hosted by the site where you had booked your most recent flight for your friend’s wedding in Puerto Vallarta, displaying your name and stating that all you had to do was call to claim your prize, you allowed yourself to possibly entertain the notion that maybe it wasn’t too good to be true. 

You were still cautiously skeptical when you pressed call and waited while the phone rang, still expecting there to be a catch somewhere. You also expected the number you dialed would be an automated one, and that you would just be pressing buttons when prompted to complete the process. So it was a surprise to you when a very human voice greeted you after the second ring. 

“Thank you for calling Spirit Travel!” The woman on the other end spoke in a bright, cheerful tone as she introduced herself and then said your name, making sure she was speaking with the correct person. You were so taken aback by the fact that you were wrong about it being a recording that you completely missed her name, but you caught back up in time to confirm that you were in fact you. 

“I, um… I’m a little confused, to be honest,” you immediately confessed, shrugging as though she could see the lift of your shoulders through the phone. Shaking your head, you went on. “I don’t think I entered any contests, and I definitely don’t think I’ve ever heard of the-” You double checked the name of the place that the website had listed as your prize. “The Yule Lodge? Is it like a Christmas themed hotel or something?” 

The woman let out a small, jingling laugh. “You could say that. Christmastime is when the Lodge is at its best, that’s for sure.” That didn’t quite answer your question, but she continued. “And it’s a very small, boutique-y little place. Doesn’t draw a ton of tourist attention, so I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of it. But I assure you it is absolutely lovely.” 

“Oh…kay.” You stared at your laptop screen, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the scrolling congratulations banner. “I still don’t remember entering a contest, though.” 

“Oh, that part!” You heard what sounded like keystrokes from her end of the call, and figured that she was pulling up some information on a computer. “Yup, mmhmm. It’s right here.” Before you could ask her what was right where, she filled you in. “I’m emailing a screenshot of it to you right now so you can see it, too, but when you booked your trip to Mexico in September, you checked a box entering you in Spirit Travel sponsored giveaways. It’s all perfectly legitimate, I promise!” 

A few seconds later you received her email, opening it and seeing for yourself that you had in fact checked that box. Hm. Must’ve been a mistake. I usually opt out of that crap. You shrugged. But maybe I’ll stop doing that now. Finally sufficiently happy with the proof that the trip was real and that it wasn’t a hoax, you cleared your throat. “Okay, so it’s… It’s really free? Airfare, the hotel, all of it?” 

“Well, just to be clear, the Yule Lodge isn’t a hotel, per say. More like a very exclusive, high end bed and breakfast.” 

Sure. Semantics, whatever. “Okay, fine. Airfare, the B&B? That’s all free?” 

“Yup! We’ll even arrange a car to pick you up from the airport and drive you to the Lodge. All you have to do is say yes and then show up for your flight.” She paused. “So is that a yes?” 

You chewed your bottom lip, going back and forth in a span of a few seconds. What will everyone think when I’m not there on Christmas? What will my friends say when I tell them? They’ll probably think I’m nuts or something. But then that same voice that told you to call about the trip spoke up again. Who cares? It asked. Do it for yourself. And that was all it took to answer. 

“It’s a yes,” you said, excitement making you sound a little giddy. I can’t believe it, but… “Yeah, I’m in.” 

She went over a few more details with you regarding dates - December 23rd to the 26th - and flight times, and then let you know that if you had any more questions you could always call her back and she’d happily answer them. 

“Thank you, really, this is… I really needed this, so thanks-” You realized you never got her name after missing it initially. “I’m so sorry, what was your name again?” 

“Oh, no need to apologize,” she assured you. “I get it, you were excited. Happens all the time.” She chuckled. “But my name is Ivy.” 

“Well, thank you, Ivy. You’re pretty much my favorite person right now.” 

She laughed again. “I’ll take it! Listen, like I said, you can call me if you have any other questions about the trip. But otherwise, in case we don’t talk again, I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.” 

“You, too! I hope you get a surprise this good in your stocking this year.” 

“Oh,” she said in a wistful way that actually didn’t sound like a customer service put-on, “For me, making other people’s holidays special is the real gift.” 

With that, she signed off, and you were left with the task of telling everyone you knew that you were pitching them all a holiday curveball. 

They’d responded similarly to how you thought they would. But by the time you had checked in to the Yule Lodge, met Laurel, the exceptionally festive and cheerful hostess who had given you the quirkiest run-down on a hotel you’d ever gotten (including a somewhat campy but cute enough folklore-inspired instruction to place the small holly wreath she’d given you at check in around your door knob to “keep out unwanted spirits” on Christmas Eve) and settled into your room, it was far too late to worry about all of that. 

All you were concerned with for the next few days was which fireplace you’d be spending the most amount of time reading near, whether or not you felt like strolling the snow covered grounds in the morning, and possibly chatting with the other guest that Laurel had mentioned would be checking in shortly after you’d arrived. Or maybe not. Who knows, maybe they’ll want to be left alone. Either way, you were looking forward to a few days of answering to no one but yourself. And if it came with a heaping helping of authentic Christmas cheer? Even better. 

Deciding not to wait until morning to venture downstairs and into the library to choose your first of hopefully many books for the duration, you popped up from your bed and headed for the door, smiling to yourself as you made sure that the holly wreath was securely around the knob. Don’t want any bad spirits messing around in my room. About halfway down the stairs, you heard voices and realized that Laurel was giving her welcome speech to the other guest. Oh, guess they’re here. You peeked through the hall and into the parlor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person you’d be sharing the common areas of the Lodge with. But as was becoming a theme for this trip and everything connected to it, you were floored to find Academy Award winning actor Dieter Bravo looking right at you. 

Holy shit. You felt your eyes go about as round as the baubles hanging from the giant spruce tree, your mouth dropping open as your heart thundered in your chest. Holy shit, holy shit that’s Dieter Bravo. Oh my god. No, it’s not. It can’t be, right? You blinked and he was still there and still definitely Dieter Bravo and - wait is he..? Yup. He was grinning at you. Oh, fuck. 

You scurried down the last few stairs and disappeared into the library, repeating those two words over in your head in a series of tones ranging from disbelief and shock to disbelief and excitement, with a twinge of nerves because Oh, fuck, what am I supposed to say to Dieter Bravo? Your face flushed making you warmer than the fireplace on the other side of the room. There was plenty that you’d thought about saying to him, your imagination running a little wild at times when you saw interviews or red carpet photos of him, or when you saw his performances on screen and he made you fall in love with his characters time and time again. But all of those thoughts had occurred while you were under the realistic assumption that you would never actually get to say any of it to him. 

But now he was sleeping just down the hall from you. 

Blindly grabbing the first book your fingers found, you scurried back up the stairs and into the sanctuary of your room before you ran the risk of running into him on the way. Choosing a book was a fine enough thing not to put off until morning. Figuring out what to say to a celebrity that you had an innocent but huge crush on was something that definitely required you to sleep on it. Flopping back into your bed a little breathlessly, you had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

I did say I needed an adventure. 

Glancing down to see what book you’d grabbed, you read the title and laughed again. A Christmas Carol. Of course. What else would it be in this place? 

It took a while, but eventually you were able to calm your brain - and heartbeat - enough to sink into the story and let thoughts about how on earth you were going to interact with Dieter slide to the backburner, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Laurel was making one last phone call before closing up and heading home for the evening. 

“Ivy?” She tapped her fingernails on the desk and grinned. “They’re both here. Just where they need to be this Christmas.” 

“Good,” the other woman said. “Now the rest is up to them.” 

– – – 

Dieter tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @tentacruels @alraedesigns @practicalghost

@trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns

@pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @noisynightmarepoetry

@haylzcyon @jessthebaker @pedrostories @covetyou

[adviceformefromme]

A little personal note and advice as we wrap up 2024!!

Finally getting some time to myself...Currently in the process of moving apartments so just finding some time now to write and share. It’s been another crazy year. I am always amazed at my life and the things I accomplish each year. The theme for 2024 was definitely healing and wellbeing, and for that I have made transformational change. Some things I did that really made 2024 transformational.

Moved overseas, moved into the apartment that had been occupying my vision board for years. The process to moving overseas started 12 months prior, I went ghost for a few months prayed and meditated every single day asking God for where I should move to (I didn’t know where my vision board home was), I was guided to a location, trialled living there for almost 3 months fell in love, returned home to sort my visa and finally made an official move 1 year later. This was a process of listening to Gods direction and being obedient. I tried to move abroad before and it was truly not in God’s plan, I wasted time, energy and money seeking something that was not for me. Lesson learnt. Listen for God’s direction always. Take action from that place.

I went from having the worst birthday of my entire life last year, to having the best birthday of my entire life this year. The reason I share this is because those dark places you’re in right now can literally be a catapult to your dream life, just like the previous story. In my darkness last year, I swore to have the very best birthday this year. A yacht, girls trip, amazing food, music. I imagined it all, and I did it all. It was incredible. I loved being on the yacht, I loved that I arranged it and I loved that my dreams were possible. I planned this trip from January with friends and at points I thought it wasn’t going to happen, the boat prices were super expensive, the boat I loved didn’t allow food.. But I persisted. I convinced the boat to make an exception. It was truly a magical birthday. And the lesson is to dream big and make plans, even if you don’t have the funds, even if it’s seems wild. You can experience your dream life if you stay focused and committed (time and planning makes this a lot easier).

Walking away from people you care deeply about, for your own wellbeing. There was a particular person in my life who actually transformed me, this connection was one of those that shift the entire direction of your life, they lift the veil and open your eyes to a new way of thinking, of seeing yourself and loving yourself. But these people are like angels that come to help and heal  you, but sadly have to leave when that season is over. And this was the case, I did try to hold on for longer but, every part of me knew my season with this person had past. As painful as this is, walking away means it’s back in God’s hands. By doing this I allow space for alignment, I allowed myself to trust, and stay true. You always know in your heart when you are going against yourself, when you are wanting more than someone can give you, when you are holding on when it’s time to let go. And by being brave, and remaining graceful you can appreciate what was, and welcome more truth.

I invested in my health on a new level. Infra-red sauna and ice bath spa weekly. Removed carbs from my diet. Green juices daily. High protein. Blood works every 12 months. Health checkups. Supplements. Homemade goats milk kefir. Low-tox living. Gym membership. Bi monthly acupuncture. Chiropractor adjustments. Dry body brushing. Weekly bone-broth. Only buying clothing made from natural fibres (linen, cotton, wool). No polyester. Downloaded Yuka app to ensure I am checking the harm rating of products I buy. This transformation has resulted in  a deeper self love and care. I have no desire for alcohol, for anything toxic in my body. This journey started with a health scare last summer and resulted in a complete holistic lifestyle change. It didn’t happen overnight. It’s been a process, and there is still a way to go. But my key takeaway is to continue to educate myself and learn about living better, because every change I have made has enhanced my life on a new level. 

As I wrap up this year, I am reminded that I am responsible for creating the life of my dreams. It’s the efforts I make, the choices - daily. The books I read, the conversations I have, the risks I take. The vison board I stay close to. Listening to God, prayers, actions. The actions are KEY. Next year I plan to go braver and bolder. No dream is too big. 2025 I am coming for you! 

[mj-iza-writer]

If you’re comfortable with it, could you maybe write something where whumpee are caretaker are sitting on the couch watching something and caretaker gets their period, so when they stand up there’s blood on the couch and whumpee kind of freaks out because they think caretaker is hurt?

Only if you’re comfortable though!

I hope it's okay I went with a vampire whump. I wanted to write about vampires. I may have made a vampire sized Whumpee bat burrito again. I can't help myself. It's just so cute. Needless to say but this is about periods. It is not an embarrassing topic at all to me. Caretaker is female here.

Warning: blood and vampire feeding.

Whumpee cuddled their nose into the folds of the blankets Caretaker had wrapped them in.

"Are you feeling alright?", Caretaker looked at them worriedly, "did I wrap you too tightly?"

"No Miss, I'm okay. I just keep smelling blood", Whumpee frowned, "it's getting hard to concentrate on the movie."

"Do you want to eat now? It's a little early, but you can", Caretaker started to move their blanket.

"No no, I can wait until the normal time. I'll get hungry again at the wrong time later. I'm sorry, thankyou though. I'm okay", Whumpee apologized quickly.

"Are you sure?" Caretaker gave her warning stare. A way to tell Whumpee not to lie.

"I'm okay... honest", Whumpee nodded.

"Alright", Caretaker leaned back.

"I wonder why you are smelling blood though", Caretaker sighed, "I don't have any out right now."

Whumpee shrugged, "I don't know. It's not a normal blood smell. It smells fresh though."

Caretaker sighed, "hmm."

A few minutes pass by and Caretaker quickly grabs her stomach.

"Ow, I think I know why you are smelling blood", they quickly jump up.

Whumpee also jumps, "Caretaker what...."

Whumpee's eyes follow Caretaker's, and they both stare at a bloody mark on the couch cushion.

"Caretaker... you're hurt", Whumpee jumps out of the blanket, "it-its coming from yo-your butt. It's bloody."

Caretaker quickly hugs Whumpee close, "okay. It's okay. I'm not injured. I am perfectly fine. It's just something that happens to me and others with a uterus. I will explain in a little bit, but I need a few minutes to take care of myself. Will you  be alright while I do that."

Whumpee's lip quiver a little as they nod.

"M-may I help? You might bleed out", Whumpee whispers.

"No no sweety. I won't bleed out. I'll explain a little more in a few minutes. I need to go get cleaned up", Caretaker let go of the hug, "okay."

Whumpee quickly wipes at their eyes and nods again.

Caretaker glanced down the hall as they stepped out of their room to go to the bathroom.

Whumpee sat in the corner watching them.

"I'm going to shower. Do you need anything before I get in?", Caretaker looks at them worriedly.

"No miss. You're o-okay?", Whumpee frowned.

"Yes, I'm okay", Caretaker nodded, "I'll have an easier time cleaning up in the shower. I'll be right back."

Whumpee looked up when the bathroom door opened again.

"Whumpee could you do me a favor and bring me the ibuprofen and my phone. I won't be able to feed you because of this", Caretaker frowns.

Whumpee quickly retrieves the items and hurries back to Caretaker.

"Thankyou", Caretaker took a few pills out, "I'm cramping big time."

"Cramping?", Whumpee looked at them worriedly.

"Yes, it's all alright. I promise", Caretaker nods, "I'm going to call Riley to see if she would come over later to donate blood for you", Caretaker looks at her phone, "I can't give enough blood to feed you and have my period."

"I can go without", Whumpee frowns, "I've done it before. Per.. period?"

"No you won't go without food", Caretaker sighs. "I can't risk you going into a feeding frenzy because of blood loss. That's not safe for anyone."

"Knock, knock. I hear a vampire needs some blood. I also got a care pack for Caretaker's period", someone walked in.

"Miss Riley", Whumpee peaked out from around the corner.

"Hello Whumpee, what are you up to?", Riley smiled, "where's Caretaker?"

"Sh-she's in the shower. I'm listening to make sure she's okay. I didn't hurt her, I promise", Whumpee looked at them fearfully.

"I know you didn't buddy", Riley smiled, "here, it's about time for a feeding. Let's give Caretaker some privacy."

Whumpee quietly watched Riley draw her own blood into a cup.

Caretaker and most of her friends were well versed in the medical blood draws needed to feed their vampire friend.

"Oh good, you're here", Caretaker came down, "oh thankyou", Caretaker saw the bag of supplies. I needed these."

"I thought you would", Riley looked up, "what's with you scaring them like that?"

"I wasn't trying", Caretaker smiled weakly, "it's came a few days early. How was I supposed to know? I'm gonna go clean the blood from the couch really quick."

"Whumpee and I already cleaned it", Riley grinned, "I think you should explain what's going on before Whumpee loses their chill. They even told me that they didn't hurt you because they were so freaked out."

Caretaker sighed as they sat down.

Riley handed a cup of blood to Whumpee.

"Thankyou", Whumpee whispers as they look at it sadly.

"Alright Whumpee. So my period just started. That is something that happens to most of us with uteruses. There are some things that may stop a period, but we won't get into those details. We normally will get one every month. Again everyone is a little different. Mine just started a few days early. I didn't realize until I had a cramping sensation."

"So you're not going to die?", Whumpee looks at Caretaker then Riley.

"No sweetie", Caretaker shakes their head no.

"I get them too", Riley chimed in, "I just finished it a few days ago."

"W-why don't I get them?", Whumpee frowned.

"I don't exactly know. I can guess that your body just doesn't do it. For example, if you get cut with a knife, you don't bleed. Your uterus may not have that function anymore. We don't know much from before you were turned either. You must not have had any back then, or at least you don't remember", Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "go ahead and take your meal. Everything is alright."

"Thankyou for the blood, Miss Riley", Whumpee held the cup and bowed their head in submission.

"You're welcome", Riley smiled.

Whumpee cautiously lifted the cup to their lips and slowly drank.

"Was that enough for you?", Caretaker smiled.

"Yhmm", Whumpee hummed as they licked out the contents as far as their tongue would go, "thankyou again."

"You're welcome", Riley reached over with a napkin, "so messy sometimes."

Whumpee grinned, "thankyou."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

@porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

@freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@castiels-favorite-hunter @isikedmyself878

@daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud @valravnthefrenchie

@glennemerald @jasperthecapser

@does-directions @deafeninglittlecrown

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

@whumpsandbumps @tobiasbones

@octopus-reactivated @string-of-broken-hearts

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ

Hi-this is a call for help.

It's not urgent, but it's very important and serious to me.

Listen-I'm writing a literal essay on how the Greek Gods are incorrectly portrayed, and I want to do sections on Zeus, Hera and Dionysus.

So, this started off as a short post on the bold yin yang of PJO, but it quickly blew up into a whole ass essay on the bastardisation of Greek culture and gods. And holy hell, I'm enjoying writing it. I freaking love it, but-

While Rick Riordan's portrayals of the gods aren't totally incorrect, something about their portrayals has been seriously nagging me for months now. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's just on the tip of my tongue-

but I don't think that Rick portrayed them all correctly, and I want to write sections for them too.

So, can all of you-Greeks, Hellenistic Pagans and other people like me who are neither of the first two but are still interested in the Real Greek Gods-can all of you tell me where PJO Dionysus, PJO Zeus and PJO Hera went wrong?

More specifically, how Real Hera, Real Zeus and Real Dionysus are, and how their PJO versions differ from them.

Because I'm doing my research, but I can't always trust the internet and I really want to hear about Dionysus and Zeus and how they were incorrectly portrayed in PJO from real people themselves.

I mean, Zeus is portrayed as paranoid and abusive and while he wasn't the best guy in the Mythology, he was a great father and husband at times-as well as a great guy.

But in PJO, he was barely shown as a good father or a husband, only twice with Thalia because she was his daughter, and we all know how abusive he was to Jason and Apollo. And he's barely given any nuance-as well as Hera. They're both portrayed to be in an abusive marriage, but both Hera and Zeus really love each other.

I kind of also want to do a section on PJO Hera, because I just KNOW that Rick went wrong with her, even if I can't fully explain Zeus and Dionysus.

So, TLDR, I'm writing an essay on how Rick incorrectly portrayed the Greek Gods and want to do sections on Zeus, Dionysus and Hera, could you please help me and tell me more about the real gods and maybe how Rick went wrong with them?

Thanks to everyone who contributes to this! Even a simple like will suffice. I will also respond to every comment, and feel free to tag anyone whom you think might help.

In fact, if you want to complain about ANYTHING wrong in the PJO series, send me an ask and I'll try to include it in my essay. And I don't get very many asks, so I'll be sure to respond to all of them.

I don't mean to be rude, and if you think I am, then please tell me and I'll change what I need to.

@elytrianemrald I know you're looking forward to this essay, I'm working on it every day and getting closer to finishing it

@lady-menrva I know this might not be your thing, but I think you might know some people who could help me

@my-pjo-stuff you mentioned Artemis being your patron goddess, soooooooo you might know something about the other gods too? And if you don't, maybe you know someone who can help?

If you want to be tagged, tell me and I will tag you

[shin-kenooubu]

First Date

featuring - Chuuya Nakahara & Dazai Osamu

[sfw . third person limited if anyone cares]

a/n : this was inspired by a conversation between me and the other admin where we both agreed that Dazai would be the type to say i love you on a first date. I also didn’t actually think I’d try to write something substantial so bear with me if it’s not too good.

—

First dates aren’t really all that bad. You meet a cute girl, get to know her for a bit and you fall out because you don’t tell her where you’ve been going late at night. Thats just how it is.

As Chuuya looked at his partner for the night he couldn’t help but wonder how he got in this situation in the first place. He switched his attention to his cup of tea while letting his date blab about life. Was it him who proposed this date? Yes. Had he been thinking about it for a good long while? Yes. Did he ever think he would actually be sitting in a dainty cafe with this particular person? Well… no. Who would think that Osamu Dazai would say yes to a date with a guy who hates him? Though he supposes it could be some twisted self hatred game that he somehow managed to manipulate Chuuya into being a part of.

Whatever the case he was here now, and seriously doubting his choice of location. It was a cute cafe, usually a favorite of the girls he’s taken out before but was it the best decision to take a man here? He looked up from his cup to see his date still happily blabbing away about how boring work can be and his favorite juniors.

he seems to be happy enough.

“Chuuya I get not many girls ask you out but you should really listen to your date when they’re talking”

“Oh shut up. I was listening, you were talking about your junior atsushi. You talk about him way too much, it makes me sick. Now let’s go.” He stands up while his partner attempts to rationalize his ramblings about that particular junior. It’s weirdly sweet seeing Dazai act similar to a doting mother when talking about him. So sweet it makes him want to vomit. That feeling was one Chuuya was all too familiar with as it was constant from the minute he first met Dazai. Lately he’s been questioning whether it’s a natural feeling of hatred, or something more complex. He took a moment to take a deep breath of air as he walked out of the cafe, the air was somehow always fresher at night. “Where are we going now?”

“On a romantic walk. Obviously.” Girls liked this kind of thing. He figured he could basically treat dazai as if he were a tall girl from his reaction at the cafe. “It’s hardly romantic. How did you ever get girls to keep dating you?” He didn’t. If he could he would probably be married by now. “What? Do you want me to hold your hand? Tell you how beautiful you look? It’s hard to be romantic when I remember its you im out with. How am I supposed to know what an enigma like you wants?” There was a beat of silence before Dazai stopped walking and turned to face away from Chuuya, crossing his arms in the process.

What the hell is he doing?

“Hey.” He doesn’t turn. “Oh come on, dont do that.” No response again. He tries to walk over to where Dazai is facing only for him to continue turning so he cant see his face. “Stop.” He holds on to Dazai’s shoulders to stop him from turning, in retaliation Dazai turns his head towards the sky and closes his eyes, arms still crossed tightly, completely rejecting Chuuya’s attempts at communication. “You’re being ridiculous.” Still no movement. “Fine.” Chuuya struggles to uncross Dazai’s arms and pries his fingers apart to interlock them with his own. “Happy?” Dazai’s response comes in the form of leaving the hand that Chuuya is trying to hold fully flexed, not attempting to reciprocate the gesture in the slightest. He’s a lot more like a girl than Chuuya originally thought. So what would make a girl forgive him?

He sighed before bracing himself for what he was about to do. “Hey, don’t be like that” He softened his voice as much as he could using his free hand to reach for Dazai’s face and guide it to look down at him. “You got what you wanted didn’t you?” He caressed his cheek with his thumb and played with his hair until he felt his hand relax and reciprocate the hold Chuuya had on it. Dazai’s face remained contorted in contempt “You’re the absolute worst.” He gripped Chuuyas hand hard and continued walking. “I’ll take your death grip as a sign of you forgiving me.” He could tell that Dazai was having a hard time staying mad at him though his face was still twisted in anger. “Oh whatever.” Dazai’s face returned to its neutral state though he didn’t bother loosening his grip. Their walk continued comfortably and silently, making Chuuyas mind drift to his question at the very start of their date. What was he doing here? The question seemed to evolve the longer he was on this date. Just how exactly did he feel about Dazai? He’s never thought that he felt anything but hatred for him, but suddenly the word feels too simple and un nuanced to properly describe how he feels after so many years together.

And that’s when Dazai says the single worst thing a person could ever say on a first date. “I love you.” Oh my god. “What?” Chuuya instinctively tried to let go of Dazai’s hand but his grip remained tight not letting Chuuya break contact. “What do you mean what? I love you.” Dazai looked at Chuuya with a confused expression as if what he was saying was something obvious that they were both aware of. “Do you not love me??“ Chuuya didn’t know how to respod. “I never said that.” It’s not like he didn’t feel the same, it was a crude confession lacking buildup and preparation for what was supposed to be a crucial moment in their budding relationship. It left him speechless.“Well?” Dazai leaned in closer to hear what Chuuya had to say looking almost anxious to hear his answer, as if he doubted his previous assessment on how Chuuya felt about him. “Okay I love you. But you can’t be doing this.” He pushed Dazai’s face away from his to discourage him from doing something crazier. “Can’t be doing what?” It’s like talking to a wall. “Nothing,” Chuuya sighed “let me walk you home.” There’s no use trying to teach him date etiquette. It’s not like he’ll be having another first date now anyway.

—

[turtleblogatlast]

Things I make for myself when insomnia kicks in

Just a chart about what I wanna change up and keep consistent in my art - I mainly wanna draw Raph with a tail because he deserves one, it fits too well. Donnie gets a long tail too because I didn’t realize how dino-like he looks until I gave him one, and now it’s a must for me haha.

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[averlym]

ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)

[mellotronmkll]

Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared

[keeps-ache]

i think i'm starting to really like writing again :D this will have consequences

[genekies]

tag vent