#The hyperfixation keeps dragging me back in

[crocdocz]

AU DOODLES !!!!!! Yaaay

Also hi my fucking wifi router got busted for like 4 days 😟

Part of my “What if” until dawn AU where Hannah is the mastermind behind the prank.

[puppyeared]

who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it

[fantasma-de-la-cueva]

Al final hablando con una muti sobre como sería Shadow humano nos quedamos con un japonés morenito por lo de las marcas del kabuki en su diseño y su actitud original. En pinterest encontré a este artista y re-dibujé su diseño de Shadow porque me gustó y quería practicar este tipo de estilizado

Eng: At the end, talking with a mutual about how Shadow would be as human we decided he would be a tan japanese due to the kabuki marks on his design and original personality. In pinterest I saw this artist and I re-drawed her Shadow design bc I liked it so mich and wanted to practice this kind of style

[chronicbeans]

Me Walking back into The Stanley Parable Fandom after playing the game for an hour or two today, carrying the luggage of my three other hyperfixations with me:

Anyways I may or may not start Stanley Parable posting so uh... YIPPEE

[narsh-potatoes]

Phoenix Wright my best friend Phoenix Wright....

[imaginmatrix]

Tomorrow’s chapter is DONE plus the first thousand words of next week’s! Man it’s nice having motivation again lol 😅

[dragonloanshark]

merry boy meets christmas cory shawn topanga erifjdkbzbcndkld

[skywalkerslvt]

Truth Serum—Logan Howlett

❥Pairing: Logan Howlett x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns other than 'you' mentioned)

❥Summary: You and Logan, drugged with truth serum, get trapped in separate cells during a mission. Things ensue...

❥CW: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, minor use of pet names (Logan says 'baby' once or twice), 1.8k words

❥a/n: Need his big mutant cock rearranging my insides right now. Wrote this really fast to satiate the new hyperfixation lmao. Not proofread, might edit later if I have time! hope u enjoy!!

The mission was a mess from the start. What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance turned into a disaster when you and Logan got ambushed by a group of well-armed mercenaries. Despite your best efforts, you were overpowered, captured, and dragged into a hidden underground facility.

Now, after being relentlessly questioned with truth serum, you found yourself in a cold, dimly lit cell, the metal bars mocking your current predicament. By the time they threw you back into your cells, your head was spinning. The serum had forced out every truth, every hidden thought, and you were left feeling raw and exposed. Worse, the lingering effects made it hard to think straight, amplifying every emotion. The worst part wasn't the isolation or the confinement—it was knowing Logan was just a few feet away, locked up in a cell next to yours. You couldn't see him, but you could hear his frustrated growls and the occasional clang as he tested the strength of his restraints.

"Logan?" you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the narrow space.

"I'm here," he replied, his voice a low, rough rumble. "You okay?"

“I'm cold,” you answered truthfully, the effects of the truth serum lingering in your veins, rendering you incapable of telling even a white lie. “Are you okay?” 

Logan huffed a laugh at your response. “I'm fine,” he replied, voice deep and gravelly sending shivers down your spine. 

"We need to figure out how to get out of here," you said, trying to focus on the mission. "Any ideas?"

"I’m working on it," Logan grunted, and you could hear the strain in his voice as he tested his restraints again. "These bars are tough, but they won't hold me forever."

Silence fell between you, broken only by the sounds of Logan's efforts to free himself. Each grunt, each frustrated growl sent your mind wandering to places it shouldn't, especially given your current situation. You tried to shake off the thoughts, but the truth serum was making it hard to keep control. 

You had always been drawn to Logan—his rugged exterior and intense demeanor had always sparked something deep inside you, but you'd managed to keep those feelings under wraps, focusing instead on the mission. Now, confined and vulnerable under the effects of the truth serum, those suppressed desires came roaring to the forefront. Every grunt, every restrained growl from his cell fueled your imagination, making it impossible to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. The harsh reality of your situation only seemed to intensify the electric charge between you two, turning the once manageable attraction into an uncontrollable blaze. A shuddering sigh passed your lips as you closed your eyes, trying to think of something, anything other than Logan fucking you, those low grunts a hot breath in your ear as he pounds his thick cock into your aching cunt. 

"What's on your mind?" Logan's voice cut through the silence, startling you. Your sigh didn’t pass Logan’s ears, his enhanced hearing picking up every little sound you made. You were lucky the wall between you was blocking the scent of your arousal from him. 

You hesitated, biting your lip, knowing the serum would force out whatever you were thinking. "N-nothing" you grunted, voice straining from the effort it took to tell that small lie, but your voice betrayed you.

"Come on," he pressed, his tone softer now. "Talk to me. What are you thinking right now?"

The words slipped out before you could stop them. "You," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m thinking about you."

Logan went quiet for a moment, and you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze even through the walls between you. "What about me?" he asked, his voice rough with curiosity.

You took a shaky breath, unable to lie. "The sounds you're making... they’re making me think of... things. Things we shouldn't be thinking about right now." You cursed yourself for admitting this so easily, for getting caught in the first place. 

A low growl rumbled from Logan's cell. "Tell me," he urged, his voice darkening with desire. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Your face flushed deeper, the truth serum forcing out your most private thoughts. “I was thinking about how you might sound if we were in the same cell,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “What noises you’d make if you were inside me, taking me on the floor.”

The cell fell into an expectant silence, Logan’s breathing becoming more laboured. After a moment, he let out a low, appreciative growl. “Oh yeah? That’s quite the thought,” he rumbled, voice thick with a mixture of satisfaction and dark amusement. “You’d be surprised how much I can imagine what it’d be like, too. The way you’d moan, how you’d squirm and gasp on my cock. Bet you’d be so fucking responsive.”

You shivered at his words, the combination of the truth serum and his filthy words making your thoughts spin wildly. “You think so?” you asked, voice breathy and eager.

Logan’s response was rough, laden with desire. “Hell yeah. I’d make sure you felt every inch of me. And you’d be begging for more before long, that’s for damn sure. Just imagine it—bet you’d take me so well.”

The vivid imagery of his words sent a shudder down your spine, your mind swirling with the possibilities. Despite the dire situation, the raw honesty between you both was creating a new kind of tension, one that was both thrilling and unnervingly intimate.

You couldn’t help it–your arousal was too much. You slowly trailed your hand up your thigh, fingers circling over your clit through your pants. “I–I’d be…so good for you, Logan,” you panted out between moans. “Need you so bad.”

Logan's breathing hitched at your admission, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Yeah? You’d be good for me, huh? Tell me what you’d want me to do if I was in there with you.”

You could hear the raw need in his voice, and it only spurred your own desire. You let out a shaky breath as you slipped your fingers under your waistband, teasing your already sensitive clit. “I–I’d want you to kiss me, touch me.”

The muffled sound of his zipper being yanked down could be heard through the wall, the thought of him fisting his cock to your voice now spurring you on, quickening your strokes. “Yeah? Touch you where, baby? How do you want me to touch you?” he responded, the smirk evident in his voice. 

The rough edge in Logan's voice sent a jolt through you, mixing with your own mounting arousal. You could hear the slight rustling from his side, the thought of him responding to you in such a primal way adding to the intensity of your desire. You whimpered, fingers working in slow, deliberate circles around your clit as you imagined his touch.

“I’d want you to start with my neck,” you gasped, voice strained. “Kiss and bite me there, tease me until I’m begging for more. Then move down, touch me everywhere. I want to feel your hands on me, everywhere.”

Logan's breath quickened, his voice rougher with need as he now stroked his cock. “Fuck, keep going.”

You could almost feel his touch, the way he’d explore your body with that intense focus. Your breaths grew quicker, each one a mix of gasps and moans as you continued to pleasure yourself. “And then I’d want you to put your cock inside me,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. “Feel every inch of you inside me, make me come with you buried deep in me.”

Logan's voice was thick with desire, mixed with a hint of smugness. “I love the way you sound when you touch yourself thinking about me. Fuck, it drives me crazy.”

You could feel the heat building inside you, each stroke of your fingers sending waves of pleasure through your body. The images of Logan’s rough hands and his powerful presence were fueling your arousal, driving you closer to the edge.

“Logan…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with anticipation. “I’m so close. I need you… so bad.”

Logan’s voice came through, rough and filled with raw desire. “I’m right here, baby. Just thinking about you coming while you touch yourself, it’s driving me wild.”

The pressure inside you intensified, each moan and gasp escaping your lips growing more desperate. You quickened your movements, your fingers pressing harder against your clit, teasing and stroking with the intensity you craved. The thought of Logan’s deep voice, his body pressed against yours, only heightened the pleasure.

“Logan, I’m gonna…” you whimpered, your orgasm building like a tidal wave, ready to crash over you.

With a final, shuddering moan, you came. Your body convulsed with the intense release, your fingers still moving in frantic circles as you rode the waves of pleasure. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as the last echoes of your climax slowly faded.

On the other side of the wall, Logan was experiencing his own tormenting pleasure. The sounds of your moans and gasps mixed with his own grunts as he fisted his cock, imagining the way you’d feel around him. The fantasy of your touch and the way you’d sound as you came was too much for him to bear.

“Fuck, yes,” Logan growled, his voice thick with need. “I’m right there with you.”

His hand moved quickly, driven by the intense images and sounds filling his mind. With a deep, guttural groan, he came, his release spilling out with a force that matched the intensity of his arousal. The sensation of climax wracked his body, his grip on his cock tightening as he rode the wave of pleasure. His breaths were heavy and uneven, each one coming in harsh, satisfied gasps.

Both of you lay there, spent and breathless, the aftermath of your climaxes leaving you in a state of both physical and emotional exhaustion. 

As the echoes of your climaxes settled into the heavy silence of the cells, you and Logan were left breathless and spent. The raw, electric tension between you had transformed into a shared, unspoken promise, even amidst your grim circumstances.

Logan’s voice cut through the quiet, rough and filled with a heated intensity that made your pulse quicken all over again. “When we get out of here,” he growled, each word dripping with desire, “I’m gonna show you just how good it can be. I’m gonna make sure you feel every bit of me.”

The thought of his words sent a shiver through you, the anticipation mingling with the lingering effects of the truth serum. Even as you lay there, exhausted and vulnerable, the promise of what was to come fueled a deep, burning desire that only added to the intensity of your situation.

[ma1dita]

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.

At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.

Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[bugsmunched]

"My Slut" - Derek Danforth X Reader

ASKS ARE OPEN, IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS PLEASE ASK!!

Summary: A jealous Derek confronts Y/N, one of his mother's employees, about flirting with a bunch of guys at a party when they were supposed to be there to keep him in line.

A/N: This was a little rushed ngl, but I did my best My Jhutch hyperfixation is coming back. So expect more fics, and please remember if you have any ideas please share!

Contents: GN! Reader, drug usage, smoking, drinking, plot? What plot, filthy smut, Dom! Derek, degradation, use of 'slut' and 'bitch', choking, spitting, impact play, face fucking, spoiled brat Derek, no mentions of readers' genitals, hate fucking, no prep, no protection (wrap that shit), dumbification, possessive Derek, jealous Derek

Word Count: 2750

SMUT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!!

"I'm not your property, Danforth." you spat, venom lacing your words as you stared at him in a cold, annoyed manner.

"Aren't you?" he asked, raising a brow and looking at you with all the arrogance in the world.

God, he was SO annoying. You couldn't believe the audacity of this sociopathic con artist. "No Derek, contrary to popular belief, I don't fucking belong to you. I don't even work for you remember? Your mother hired me. " You hissed, placing the glass of bourbon that was in your hand onto the table in front of you.

"Well I don't think my mother hired you to flirt with a bunch of men like a little whore now did she?" He asked, taking a long drag of the joint that rested in his hand.

"She hired me to keep an eye on you, Derek. I'm a glorified babysitter, I might as well have a little bit of fun whilst trying to keep you sober. "

"Yeah you don't exactly do a good job of that, now do you? I wonder if my mother knew how poor of a job you were doing. "

"You threatening my job? " You snorted, rolling your eyes in amusement. "You're threatening my job just because I flirted with a couple of guys, how mature of you Danforth. "

"just flirted with a couple of guys?" He asked, raising a brow in amusement. "Honey-"

"Don't." You warned him, not wanting to hear the sickening nickname fall out of his mouth.

"Don't fucking interrupt me, slut. " He growled, his eyes narrowing with anger. " As I was saying before you opened your disgusting mouth- Honey, I don't think palming a guy in the corner counts as 'just flirting.' And the entire party does not count as 'just a couple guys.' You're a slut, admit it. "

Your face turned a bright pink, you hadn't realized that he knew about that. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, the drinks had just hit and one guy kept eyeing you up and down. So, when you noticed that Derek was preoccupied by some other guy talking about crypto or some similar nonsense, you snuck off and made out with the guy in the corner. But you were so deprived, that you had begun palming him desperately like a highschooler at a dance. But before it could escalate to anything more, you heard Derek calling you away, unaware that he had been watching you the entire time, seething with anger.

"I'm not a slut, Derek. If anyone's the slut it's you. You're the one who's hooking up with someone new every time I turn my head. " That really got him going. He placed the burnt-out joint in the ashtray in front of him and stood up, swiftly walking over to you, standing over you.

"You want to say that again?" He challenged, crouching down in front of you and meeting your gaze. When you didn't say anything, he growled and grabbed your chin. "What? Now you've finally decided to shut that big mouth of yours?" his grasp on your chin was harsh, yet his gaze was even harsher. Fire plagued his gaze, and his jaw clenched.

" Let go of me, you sociopath." You snapped, matching his energy.

"You can't talk to me like that. " He huffed, his grip on your chin tightening, leaving red marks on either side of your face.

"I can speak however I damn please, you don't control my paychecks."

"Someone needs to show you how to fucking respect others. " He said as he let go of your face. You rubbed the sore sides of your face, looking up at him with a scowl.

"Someone needs to teach you how to not be such a spoiled brat, you useless fucking-"

Your harsh words were cut off as his hand found itself wrapped around your throat. "shut up." he growled, squeezing the sides of your throat. Your face turned a bright red as you fought back a whimper from the feeling. When you stopped speaking, he smirked, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions. "That's all it takes to shut you up, huh? All the little slut needed was a hand around their throat?" he cooed, squeezing a little harsher.

You tried to speak, but your brain was a little bit fuzzy from the feeling of having a strong hand wrapped around your throat like that. You felt so stupid, so vulnerable, to have been so thrown off by that.

"You really are nothing but a slut, and I don't like that. I can't stand seeing you flirt with other men. You see, I don't have a problem with the fact that you are a slut, I have a problem with the fact that you're not my slut. " He said as malice laced his words.

You gave a little bit of a whine, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your cocky demeanor had completely faded away, as it had changed into something new, something far more desperate and needy. Maybe he was right, maybe you were a slut...and maybe you should be his.

"C'mon baby, say something." he cooed, loosening his grip on your throat for a moment so you could speak. But you were absolutely star-struck at the moment, at a complete loss for words. When you didn't speak, a hand harshly landed a blow across your face, leaving a bright red mark. "I said say something. That wasn't a request, you dumb fuck. "

"Make me- make me yours. " You managed to stutter out, the smack he left on your cheek causing it to sting.

"Oh look, you can speak after all! The dumb slut can speak." He said with feigned amusement in his voice. "And they know their place. " He purred softly as he let go of your throat completely, standing up from his crouched position. " On your knees. And don't make me repeat myself again." He commanded.

You slipped off the couch and fell to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with pitiful, desperate eyes. What was happening to you? As soon as you were on your knees, his pants and boxers were around his ankles, belt resting in his hands, and his surprisingly girthy and pierced cock sprung free, half-hard already from the attention he was giving you. A hand harshly gripped at your hair and tugged you close to him, looping the belt around your neck and pulling it tight, much like a leash.

In one hand he held the belt that was wrapped around your neck, in the other he held his half-hard cock, stroking over the Jacob's ladder piercings. After a few moments, his cock stood at attention, a bead a precum leaking from the tip. He pulled you close via the belt, pushing his leaking tip against your lips. His other hand cupped your cheek, stroking it gently. "Open. " He commanded, and you quickly obeyed.

You parted your lips, which were now glistening with his pre-cum, as he pushed his dick into your mouth. He wasted no time in tugging on the belt, which forced you to take more of him down your throat. The balls of his piercings rubbed strangely against the walls of your throat, but you welcomed the new sensation.

Soon enough, he had forced himself all the way down your throat, balls pressed against your chin. "You really are a slut, huh?" he asked in amusement, amazed at how easily you took him down your throat. "Have you been sucking dicks behind my back? huh?" he asked as he spat on your face, it sliding down, coating your eyelashes in the process. You shook your head, trying to say something in protest, but that just caused you to gag on his cock, spit bubbling from your own mouth and dripping down your chin. It slipped off of your chin and dripped onto the floor. "You're cleaning that up later, fucking bitch. " He remarked, smacking your face lightly.

After a few moments of forcing your nose into the base of his cock, he pulled his hips away, leaving you panting with spit dripping down your face. After giving you a second to breathe, he smirked before slamming back into your mouth, holding the belt tightly in his hand as he began to roughly thrust in and out. His tip kept hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag, which caused more spit to drip down your chin and pool on the floor.

"Fucking bitch, making such a mess." He growled, spitting on your face once again, his hand that was resting on your face going up to your hair, tangling itself in the strands roughly.

He loved the sight below him; you drooling and spitting all over his cock as his spit dripped down your face, his cock pumping in and out of your throat. The sight alone was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he wasn't anywhere near done with you.

Once again he pushed you all the way down his shaft, shoving your nose into the base of his cock. "Choke on it you dumb slut. " he growled softly, watching as you tried to breathe, which caused you to start choking on his dick, more spit bubbling on the corners of your mouth. Once he was satisfied with the mess you made on the floor beneath you, he pushed your head away, leaving you a panting mess once again.

"Looks like we finally found a use for that mouth that isn't bitching and whining, isn't that right, honey?" He cooed, using the belt that was wrapped around your neck to pull you off of the ground, his spare hand resting on your side. " answer me." he growled, his eyes filled with a dangerous lust.

"Y-yes sir." you managed to stutter out, the name for him falling out of your lips far easier than you would like to admit. he smirked at the nickname, his cock twitching in satisfaction.

"Call me that again." He purred softly, the hand resting on your side making its way to your clothes ass, gripping at it harshly.

"S-sir."

He smacked your ass, "Again." he commanded.

"Sir!" You yelped out, whining at the light sting on your clothed ass, imagining how much more that would sting if you were unclothed.

"Good job, slut. Now, undress and bend yourself over that table over there. " He said, pointing to a table that held alcohol and other drugs over in the corner.

You quickly obliged as he let go of the belt. You practically tore off your clothes, rushing over to the table and bending yourself over it, biting your lip. You scolded yourself for being so excited to fuck Derek Danforth, someone that you were hired to keep from fucking random people and doing drugs.

He sauntered his way over to you and pushed your face harshly into the table, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Fuck, look at you, so eager for me to fuck you. Your boss' son, bending you over the desk and dicking you down, it's kind of pathetic, really. " He remarked, smacking your ass a few times till both cheeks were bright pink. The smacks caused you to mewl in pleasure, back arching against him slightly.

After prodding your entrance with the swollen and ripping head of his cock, he finally pushed past the barrier and sheathed himself inside of you. He didn't try and go slow, he just shoved himself deep inside of you as quick as he could, a groan escaping his lips. The lack of prep caused the stretch to burn your hole, making you wince and take a few deep, sharp breaths. You weren't used to being so full.

But before you could get used to the feel of being stretched out, he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, causing your body to jolt forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the rough thrust. He repeated that rough thrust a few times, one hand resting on your hip, the other shoving your face into the desk. The harsh thrusts drew long, high pitched whines and moans from your mouth, hands gripping at the table harshly, nails digging into the wood.

"ah-ah! Slo-slow down!" You whined out, your pleading being muffled by the table. He smirked at your pleading, hips speeding up, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.

"I don't think I will. " He spoke in an arrogant tone, continuing to thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside of you. A few moans fell from his lips, the grip on your hip tightening, he was sure to leave a few bruises.

" fu-fuck you." You spat, wincing as a hand collided with your ass harshly once again, a shiver being sent up your spine.

"Watch your fucking tone with me. " He growled softly, continuing to harshly piston his hips into you. His nails dug into your flesh lightly, leaving marks. "you're my little slut, aren't you?" He purred softly.

You moaned in response which caused him to smack your ass once again. " Say it. Say that you're my little slut. Tell me that you're sorry for flirting with other men. "

You opened your mouth to talk, but no words came out, your brain fuzzy from the feeling of being fucked like an animal. "oh, is the poor slut already fucked stupid? You're in for a long night, poor baby. " He mocked you, giving a particularly harsh thrust which caused you to cry out in pleasure. He stilled his hips for a moment, laying a harsh slap to your ass. "Still, I need to hear the words...say that you're my little slut. " He hummed softly, massaging the fat of your ass between his fingers.

"I-I'm yours..."

"You're my what?" he cooed, grinding his hips into you, which caused a long, drawn-out whine to fall from your lips.

"your little slut.."

"C'mon, use all your words..."

"I'm your little slut."

"I'm your little slut - what?" he mocked you, prompting you.

"si-sir. "

"Good job, bitch." He growled as he started up his thrusting once again, pulling nearly all the way out just before slamming right back into your tight hole harshly.

Foul, lewd sounds fell out of both of your lips, Derek's head rolling back slightly as he fucked into you like you were his personal fleshlight. He groped your ass, his nails leaving red marks as he marked his territory. He wanted to make sure that people knew you were his little slut, that you belonged to him. You were his little toy and he was your owner. He leaned forward and started leaving love bites on your neck, both in a way to mark you as his and a way to muffle his moans, which were slowly turning into whimpers as he got closer to his climax.

You, meanwhile, were already in a state of fucked out bliss, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. Your knees were becoming weak, and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You tried to warn Derek that you were about to cum, but you couldn't talk, so all you did was whine and smack at the table with your hand, arching your back to make him go deeper.

However, he was lost in his own pleasure and neglected to recognize the signs of you getting close, his thrusts quickening due to his own desperation for a release. After a few more thrusts, you yelped, a few tears rolling down your cheek as you came undone, but he barely even noticed, his growls turning into high-pitched whines as his hips stuttered.

You whined, feeling overstimulated, but soon enough he was coming undone inside of you. Thick ropes began to paint your insides, causing you to whimper at the feeling of being so full. He pulled out, which caused you to gasp at the sudden lack of something being stuffed inside your desperate hole.

He stood up straight and looked at you for a moment before realizing that you had made a mess of your own. He smacked your ass harshly, which caused you to whine out. "Dumb slut, you didn't ask for permission. Looks like... you're going to have to be punished." He murmured. You looked back and realized that he had already gotten hard once again. You were in for a long night.

[kyri45]

✨ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU Q&A ✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: sometimes when im bored i just go to your profile to position your pfp to siffrin's hands so it looks like they're holding you

I feel threatened bc if Siffrin would know what I'm making them pass through with the next comic updates he would crush me insteantly with a fist.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Damn Siffrin is dying and no one will ever remember them. 😔 Oh Loo~ooop!

Loop coming to save the day even tough they aren't paid enough for this shit

Anonimo Siffrin isn't aware of the hole in the wall you can go through for those two statues without having to get pelted by rocks smh my head. (said jokingly) ((Love your comic btw!! Thank you for this AU, I love it))

THE

WHAT?

YOU CAN GO THROUGH A WALL TO GET THEM WITHOUT RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE?????

Anonimo My reaction to this chapter of ISAT COTL CROSSOVER AU (10/9/2024) GO BBG YOU GOT THIS IN THE BAG!! OH YOU DO NOT GOT THIS IN THE BAG.. oh now you're out of the bag oh god ruh roh

Oh yeah he does NOT have this.

Anonimo pst hey hey are you gonna pose the statues, it would be funny i swear totally not more heartbreaking for siffr- WAIT HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE FACT YOU CAN BARELY SAVE ALL OF THE STATUES WHEN YOU REACH THE FOREVER STORM PART-

he has enough memories that he should recover a good amount of statues. It's not a matter of wheter or not he can save everyone, but mostly themself....

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hey so I cannot believe I am so late to see your ISAT and Sky AU because I love!! Both of them!! So much!! And I just wanted to thank you for making it and sharing it with us because it’s really cool! And both fandoms need more attention imo <333 @ucorpwhalingyaoi ha chiesto: I know NOTHING about cotl but my god your isat au of it has made me want to play it so bad 💔 (very /pos…) @primrosechronicles ha chiesto: HEYYYY ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE SENT AN ASK!! Ive been silently reading the isat comic since my last ask and im very very proud of you for making this far!!! mwahh!!! Thank you for inspiring me to play sky again, cuz if not i wouldn't have able to meet my sky friends Anonimo ha chiesto: first of all, I came here from the shadowpeach au but your comics dragged my ass to the ISAT fandom second of all, HOW DARE YOU PLAYED WITH MY HAPPINESS LIKE THAT (love your art and story telling, I wanna eat it like a fancy dinner) @prince0fghosty ha chiesto: It's been hard for me to find Sky: Children of the Light content anywhere! I found you through a friend and not only are you interested in Sky but also Lego Monkie Kid this is truly the best day ever!!! I got back into the game because of you. I like to help moths out in Eden @phoenix-is-here ha chiesto: You are the person who introduced me to the ISAT fandom and I gotta say thank you for that. That's one of the best games I've ever played and I would have never known about it without stumbling onto your account first (because of a strong hyperfixation on a show about monkeys ofc) so.. Accept this virtual cookie and glass of milk as a gift : 🍪 Anonimo ha chiesto: I followed for the shadowpeach, stayed for Sky CotL, keep cookin

HIII!!! AND TYSM!!!!!

@elianaroselight ha chiesto: This feels a little silly, but what is ISAT? I read through your ISAT Sky AU comic and I feel like I am missing half of the story. I love what I'm seeing so far and want more, but I also don't know or completely understand who the characters are and why I should care about them (more than I do already at least). Sorry if this is silly. I just want to understand.

ISAT is short for "In Stars And Time". It's an RPG game made by @insertdisc5. ABsolutely go check it out otherwise you wont understand a thing about the characters of the AU!

when i was reading the most recent page of the In Skies and Time™️ comic I had the most hilarious image in my head of just a bunch of sky kids smacking down on the same area and making this. sky kid pileup????? [since it seems liek theyre all gonna come back like that..] it was super funny to imagine 30 CAR PILEUP 🔥🔥🔥

AWWW SKY KID MOUNTAIN!! Lol probably it would happen? Like when you do Eden just after reset and when you get reborn there's like 7 other players clipped in you rebirth animation in the aviary /home space

Anonimo ha chiesto: Awwwww Bonnie was so excited 😢

poor Bonnie they will get their comfort moment eventually

@sohrleas ha chiesto: YOU YOU'RE THE REASON WHY I got Sky 'cause I saw your isat sky au and got super curious about the game Your art is beautiful and I love it 💚💚💚

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: HOPEFUL STEWARD WOOOOO-

IT'S MY BOY!!

@o0mochacoffee0o This isn’t related to you Bio dad AU Like my usuals- I just saw in your abut that you like CotL! Now you share two of my interests!! I’m curious to know your favorite parts of the game, if you have any ships, head canons, etc!! I always love listening to people’s opinions on things I love!

About Scotl? I don't have any specific headcanon, but I do ship Moments Guide and Reassuring Ranges. The only thing that I crave for that game is MORE LORE GODDAMN IT

Anonimo ha chiesto: When I said the fun was dying. I did not expected this. I'M SCREAMING AND PUNCHING THE BED NOOOOOOOOOOOO SIFFF

*sips coffee* welcome to hell (literally)

Anonimo ha chiesto: "is that thing a sadness?!" sweet summer child that thing is a menace of death

It absolutely is

Anonimo ha chiesto: Poor Siffrin’s gotta be absolutely TERRIFIED Big scary beast thing spotted them AND suddenly getting bathed in the color they associate with bad stuff? I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be quaking in their boots.

He is in desperate need of comfort that wont come in like- a irl month I think

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know you won’t be doing the golden wastelands but… Once the party discovers that the groundwater has the same effect as the forest rain, Isabeau decides to bridal carry Siffrin the whole way. Leaving Siffrin a blushy mess. Also, almost if not everyone is scared shitless of the Dark Dragons/Krill (totally not projecting)

ooooohh that is soooo cute i'm dying!!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: THE FAKE ACT 4 LOOKING SMILE . THE ACT 5 EDEN MOMENT. THE PARTY BEING SENT BACK . DIES "oh yeah if I still have energy I can loop back" ← me when I'm lying

@starlight-and-clockwork ha chiesto: bawling and kicking and screaming and pulling my hair out THAT PANEL OF SIFFRIN ASKING HIS FAMILY TO REMEMBER HIM WILL HAUNT ME FOREVER YOU ARE SO TALENTED AND CAUSE ME MUCH PAIN THANK U<3

@aro-aces-world ha chiesto: I just caught up with ISAT sky au Fuck you /affectionate

Thank you! Be ready to be even more destroyed by the following updates!

@cherryblossomventi ha chiesto: I’m gonna go feral, Sif did that because he knows he can kinda come back from this with the shooting star thing Im guessing but the others cant/might not because they aren’t from this land,,, oh buddy why didn’t you tell them stop being cryptic idiot

Sif doesn't really remember that he can be reborn like in Sky. He knows only that, if he can reach the light right at the base of the cataclysm, then maybe he can return as well.

[toobytoobs]

Guys, the hyperfixations getting so bad I’m legitimately thinking about taking a class in mythology so I can make up accurate Divine Twitch Chat AU senarios in my head.

Somebody help me, IT KEEPS DRAGGING ME BACK TO TUMBLR SO I CAN REREAD THE SAME FUCKING POSTS

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

[pinksugarscrub]

Guts

Hobie Brown x fem! spider! reader

Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @the-shroom-garden

Thank you @hyperfix-wip! (beta reader) you know how excited I was to finally finish

Can you tell I like Olivia Rodrigo yet? Thanks to my little brother for forcing having me to listen to her music 💜

word count: 1,770

parts: 1, 2

cw: cursing, suggestive comment from Peter, and simping

~

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

“Oi mate-” Hobie’s foot tapping falters as he turns around.

“You look bloody fit,” Ned groans. Draped over the edge of Hobie’s bed bored out of his mind. “Will you get out of here? You’ve only got ten minutes.”

Hobie’s shoulders sink as he glances at himself in the mirror again. His fingers running over the leather of his jacket. A plush lining to keep him warm after your persistent warnings about New York Autumn.

“Oh mate…” Ned’s expression falters as he turns to lay on his stomach. “You’re really worried about this.”

Hobie swallows as he tears his gaze away from his reflection. “No shit.”

Now Hobie knows tonight is nothing more than a casual dinner. It really isn’t anything special. Just pie and more pie and oh wait, more pie. But it’s also the first time he’ll meet your family and the encounter feels more like an indoctrination than an introduction.

He wants to make a good impression and when did he become the kind of person to care about impressions? It’s just that these people care about you and you care about them ten fold. If he fucks it up with them will he even have a chance with you? 

Hobie can see you smile in the back of his mind. He doesn’t feel good enough for you but he also doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. Doesn’t that sound egregious.

He wants to hear you sing. He really does and he’s somewhat terrified the moment he does he’s going to fall deeper in love with you. 

He really wants to be there for every wonderful moment the way you’ve been there for him. There isn’t a show you’ve missed or a song you haven’t listened to that he’s recommended. Hobie wants to be by your side and the feeling is as suffocating as it is satisfying. He didn’t even know you played until he caught you fiddling with his guitar. 

Is it weird he wants to hold you in his lap while you strum a few chords? Sing to him like his own personal songbird.

Damn he was whipped.

“Listen, Hobs.” Ned’s hand clasps his shoulder. He softens his voice too to a tone only reserved for moments much like this one. “You’ve got to trust her.”

Trust her? With what? His unyielding affection and admiration.

“If it’s meant to be it’ll work out.” Ned bites his tongue. Unsure if he’s said the right or the wrong thing. 

Hobie sighs and finally turns to Ned. A half hearted smile on his lips as he pats his hand. “I know but…”

“Doesn’t make waiting any less shitty?” Ned replies. A weak laugh escaped him. 

“Yeah,” Hobie chuckles. Wrapping his arms around Ned and becoming dead weight. 

“Want me to go with you?” Ned shifts Hobie in his arms to keep the two of them from collapsing. 

“Nah, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“You’re not asking, I'm telling.”

Their flat goes quiet and Ned knows Hobie is seriously debating the idea so without much thought he drags him along on his way to his room next door. 

“Is it a shithole? Because I don’t want to lose my good chucks.” 

“It’s a good part of town,” Hobie mumbles. Face hot as his nerves finally seem to settle. “Thanks Neddy.”

“Shut up and get off,” Ned huffs. Snatching his favorite jumper and searching for a pair of jeans. 

���Really mate-” Hobie slowly grins as Ned shoves him off. It deters him none as he makes obnoxious kissing noises. “You’re the best.”

“Bloody back off!” Ned chokes on a laugh. “These lips aren’t for you, you little shit.”

“Promise I’ll make it up to your date.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near Riri.”

Ned cringes as soon as the words leave his lips. Well, fuck.

“Riri!?” 

-

The venue is loud. Not burst your eardrums loud which Ned agrees with, but definitely loud. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place mate?” Ned scans the room before shrugging. “Looks like a regular old pub to me.”

“It’s a different kind of show.”

“Really? Different how?”

Hobie doesn’t know. You were so nervous when you asked him to your show he couldn’t bring himself to pull it out of you.

“Guess we’ll have to find out-”

A quiet buzz forms from the back of his neck down his spine. Subtly he turns his head. 

“I’m too old for this.”

“Oh please, we’re in our late twenties.”

“Early thirties,” someone else corrects.

They look familiar but he can’t quite place them until one person from the group catches his eye. It’s your MJ.

“Oh, hey! I’d recognize you anywhere.” She grins as she leaves behind who he now knows to be Peter Parker and Harry Osborn. “You must be Hobie.”

 Hobie’s hands suddenly feel sweaty. “Yeah, pleasure to meet you miss.”

Ned looks over at him flabbergasted but doesn’t say a word. Only makes a twirling motion with his finger and silently mouths ‘whipped’.

Hobie glares, prepared to give him the greatest beat down of the century until Peter and Harry finally seem to catch up. Then he’s all smiles and polite laughter.

“Babe you totally ditched us b— woah, hello sailor.”

MJ sighs while pinching the bridge of her nose. Way to make a good impression, she thinks.

Peter leans in close to her ear. “I see the appeal.”

“We…we can still hear you,” Ned interjects. Perplexed as he turns to Hobie. “They do know that right?”

“Hey, Hobie right?” Harry smiles. Pushing past Peter with a much softer tone to his voice. “Our girl has told us so much about you. You must be…?”

“Ned, Leeds.” Now Ned feels like quaking in his boots and he’s not even the one needing moral support.

“Ned, ah, I’m glad you could make it.” He nods toward the stage. “Should be starting any minute. Mind if we join you?”

Hobie yelps before nodding and letting out a hurried, “yes of course.”

“Great.”

Hobie thinks Harry’s turned away for his benefit. He takes the opportunity and rubs his side. 

“Did you really have to hit me that hard?” He hisses.

“Nah, I just enjoy torturing you.”

“You little-”

“So, are you two excited?” MJ chirps back in. “You’re the first friend I think she’s ever invited to one of her shows.”

That gives Hobie pause. “How come?”

“Oh well she’s always kept to herself. Society's been good for her. I trust you’re looking out?” 

Hobie nods, “I’m taking care of her, I promise.”

MJ smiles and nods in return. “Good.”

“Looks like it’s just us.” Peter wraps his arm around MJ’s shoulder. Eyes on his phone. “Junior just texted her other friends will meet us at F.E.A.S.T. after the show.”

“So it’s just Hobs she invited?” Ned asks. Not even hiding his cheshire grin.

Peter immediately matches his energy. A cheeky grin on his lips. “Just him.”

The butterflies in Hobie’s stomach grow worse. So much worse. Then the lights shut off and cheers erupt.

To be completely frank, Hobie doesn’t pay a lick of attention to the bands on stage. He’s just waiting for a glimpse of you. 

Time doesn’t feel fast enough but when he hears your voice, he wishes he could stop it.

“Is everyone enjoying the show!” 

The cheers grow even louder and your laugh, god his heart tightens in his chest.

“Wonderful! Well, I have the honor of closing tonight so I’m pleased to introduce The Mary Janes!”

Goosebumps break out on his skin the moment the guitar riff echoes into the area. It’s the exhilarating feeling he gets from playing with Ned and the others. Listening to music with you in your car, talking nonsense all at once.

Driving on the right-side road

He says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes

And he’s got hands that-

Wait, was this song about him?

Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote

I wish I wrote

Please be about him.

And he laughs at all my jokes

And he says I'm so American

Oh, God, it's just not fair of him

To make me feel this much

His heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with him. There’s a slight falter in your voice but you push through. Smiling at him as sweat builds up on your skin.

I'd go anywhere he goes

And he says I'm so American

Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him

If he keeps this shit up

I might just be in love

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude

Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

The way you dress, and the books you read

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me

When he's with me

Yeah, he’s kissing you tonight

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon

But if the conversation ever were to come up

I don't wanna assume this stuff

But ain't it love?

I think I'm in love

Shit he wants to kiss you now.

The final chords ring out and the screams have been loudest out of the whole night. 

As soon as you’re out of sight he looks to Ned and Ned laughs. With a shove he points his best friend into the direction he’s sure the backstage is in.

“Go get em’ tiger!” MJ yells.

“Please keep the tongue to a minimum!” Peter cries.

The pounding of his heart and the smack of his boots on the floor are all he can hear. Skidding to a stop he slips through a door with a taped over sign.

He spouts apologies and jumps over drum kits until he barrels into you or, you barrel into him. You’ve really got to watch where you’re going.

“Hobie-!” You feel dizzy after the clumsy collision of limbs. “What are you doing back here?”

“Was that for me?” He asks out of breath.

You blink as you finally register his presence. A shy smile makes its way onto your face. 

“If it was?”

“If it was?” He laughs. “You’re such a cheeky little thing.”

“Hey! I’m-”

The words die on your tongue as he crashes his lips onto yours. His hands moving from your shoulders to your face. Gently caressing the skin there.

“Yeah.” You answer when you part. Dizzy for a whole different reason. “It was for you.”

Hobie laughs again.

“Well what are you waiting for?” You sigh. “Kiss me again.”

So he does.

I had so much fun participating and hope we can continue to have this mass collaboration moving forward. You all did wonderfully and if I haven't gotten to your work I hope to do so soon. Well done everyone! 🫶

[bruisedboys]

hiii! congrats on 2k!! could i ask for any character with “tell me where it hurts, honey”

i love how you write every character and each detail just makes me melt 😭

thank you so much angel! I went with remus I’m hyperfixated on him 🫶🏽 cw! reader has period cramps

fem!afab!reader 0.6k words

You’ve been plagued by period cramps almost all day. Remus thinks it’s totally horrible and completely unfair. He’s told you so about a hundred times.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he says for what feels like the millionth time. He’s sitting on the floor next to your couch-bed for the day. His back is against the couch, long legs bent in front of him, and he’s twisted his head so he can look at you properly.

You look back at him with a somewhat pained expression. Remus thinks it’s real until you pout dramatically and say, “You hate seeing me?”

Remus groans. “Dove,” he complains. It sounds like not funny.

You giggle and Remus thinks that hearing your awful joke was worth it if he gets to see you laugh like that. You giggle until suddenly you’re clutching your stomach, your laughter quickly morphing into a moan of pain.

“Ouch,” you complain, more of a groan than a word. “‘Nother cramp.”

This isn’t the first time this has happened today. You’ll be fine and then suddenly not, and Remus is sorry to admit he’s panicked every single time. He’d take all the pain for himself, if he could.

“Dove,” he says again, this time far more soft and kind, his tone all sympathy-heavy and sad. He gets up on his knees quick as a flash, swivelling so he’s facing you. “Tell me where it hurts, honey.”

You eyes are scrunched closed but you point to your abdomen, your lower stomach region that seems most problematic, in Remus’ opinion. Remus is kind and gentle as he pushes his hand under your shirt, pressing his palm firmly to your stomach.

“There?” He asks softly, on a blind search to ease your pain.

“A bit lower, Rem.”

Remus lowers his hand so his fingers push beneath the waistband of your shorts, the heel of his hand just shy of your belly button. “There?”

“Mhm, right there,” you hum, your lips barely moving.

Remus smiles, one, at your cute face and two, because he’s found the spot where you’re hurting the most. He presses the heel of his hand to your stomach, careful but firm at the same time. Normally you’d do this job, pressing your hands to your stomach as if you could claw out the pain. Remus likes to do it because he’s much gentler with it than you ever are. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that he gets to touch you, of course.

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand up to grip your shoulder, his thumb dragging over your collarbone. “S’that any better, dove?”

You nod, though your eyes are still closed. Remus takes the opportunity to drag his hand over your midriff, a firm press of his palm over the expanse of your lower stomach, back and forth from hip to hip. He’s slow and gentle and watches your face in case you don’t like it. But when you let out a sigh of what he hopes is relief, he knows it was a good idea.

“Thank you, Remus,” you say, sounding both parts fond and tired.

Remus pushes his hand around to your hip and gives you a squeeze. “For what?”

You smile like you can’t help it and open your eyes just slightly to look down at him. “You know what,” you say, exasperated in your exhaustion.

“No, I don’t,” he says back lightly, giving your nose a tap with his free hand.

You roll your half-lidded eyes but the effect is ruined by your staggering smile. “Whatever,” you mumble.

Remus grins. “You want me to keep my hand here?” He asks, one part genuine and two parts smarmy.

You must miss the smarmy, because you close your eyes again and breathe out a, “Please.”

Remus decides he’ll keep his hand on your stomach for as long as you like.

[reverieblondie]

Neighbors

Chapter 3: Web-Heads

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: None....But it's starting to heat up...

Summary: After a terrible night you find that your restless, turns out your not the only one who isn't asleep at this hour. Maybe things will start looking up for you...

A/N: Finally got this done! I have so many fics in the works currently, so I am slowly trying to get them all out but I write slow and can only write when I am hyperfixating on that specific story. it all comes in waves for me unfortunately. Enjoy the chapter!

Word Count: 4,012

Your eyes fly open, meeting the darkness of your room. Nothing is working…

Four hours of tossing and turning, trying to will yourself to sleep but nothing is working. With a sigh and slowly rising from your bed, you conclude that sleep is just not going to happen for you tonight. This should all be expected though, how can you get rest when you feel your life is in knots? Unfortunately for you untying them is going to take longer than one night so sleepless nights seem to be in your future. -damn stress causing you to have insomnia…

Sitting up in your bed your mind starts going back to everything that has happened so far, what could have happened if Spider-man didn’t show up. As you think you feel the pricking ache in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. With a deep breath you will the feeling down, you have cried enough you don’t want to keep getting worked up. Scanning the room you're looking for a distraction then you find it; your hamper filled with clothes catches your eye. That will have to do. 

Pulling on your hoodie,  pocketing your phone and keys, favorite fuzzy slippers on your ready; you drag your hamper down to the complex's laundry room, well to the elevator then the laundry room. Typically you wouldn't be doing your laundry at this hour but you're hoping for no company, that must be why you didn’t even bother to brush your restless bedhead. You have already had a rough night, it can't get any rougher right? 

Finally making it down to the washroom you walk through the doorway and see none other than your neighbour the spider enthusiast. Just can’t catch a break tonight. 

Walking in you try your best not to pay him any mind but you can’t help but notice how he seems very surprised to see you. Well granted it is an untimely time for laundry but he’s down here as well so you should be giving him a look as well. As you go to give him a look you stop, you just don’t even have the energy for that right now. With a sigh, you keep your head down and just do your laundry in silence. 

Placing your clothes in the washer you sort them carefully as you go in two different machines, it's just the two of you so you can be a bit rude to get your stuff done. At this point you couldn't care either way. 

“Rough night?” His voice carries to you and all you can do is just hum, not denying but not exactly agreeing either. 

“Yeah, you look…” he thinks for a moment and you assume he is looking for some kind of insult, that would just be the cherry on top of your night, wouldn’t it? What will he poke at? Your hair? Your clothes? Your puffy face? Your fuzzy slippers? Feeling the anger build at your assumed thoughts you turn to him quickly making him look at you a bit surprised. 

“I what? Huh? Are you going to say how I look like shit? How do I look pathetic?” the pain in your chest starts to rise and you just throw your clothes in both washers no longer having the will to sit and sort. 

With a slam, you start the washers and go to leave in a huff but as you make your way to the exit in an angered rush one of your slippers comes off forcing you to have to turn back. Spinning around quickly you see Peter is standing with your slipper in hand, a concerned look on his face, already so close to you. If you were not so completely irritated you would question how he got to you so quickly. 

“I was going to say you look sad…” it's the gentlest you have heard him speak, makes you feel like an ass from your off-the-handle reaction. He holds out your slipper to you, “Want to talk about it Cinderella?” 

With a sigh you grab the slipper putting it back on your foot, “Not particularly…” 

“You're not from New York are you?” he asks somewhat suddenly

“What was your first clue?” 

“The screaming at the spider.” you look at him and can’t help the small laugh that leaves your throat, he notes this so he keeps going, “Yeah, definitely the dead giveaway. Plus there is you not knowing about this month's rainy week and believing the weatherman, another not New Yorker mistake.” 

You sigh, “I can’t even trust the weatherman…” 

“Not from channel 12 no, try channel 34, he’s the one I watch.” 

“Oh, and here I thought it was your special New York weather sense.” 

“Well that helps too,”  he says nonchalantly, causing you to laugh again. 

You look at him and see that he's watching you with a smile. As he waits for his laundry, “Why are you being nice to me? I thought I was dramatic?” 

“Eh, your dramatics are only funny when you're peeved, not sad.” 

“Oh, well I am so glad I could entertain you then.” 

“Least you can do after waking me from my sleep because of a spider.” You laugh and the room becomes silenced between you two the only sound being the whorling of the washers and the slight music coming from Peter's earbuds filling the room for a long moment. “So was work bad? Did something-” 

You are quick to cut him off.  “Ah- still don’t want to talk about it.” 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender humming in agreement. A part of you doesn't know why you don’t tell him. Maybe it is because talking to him is finally making you forget about it, making you laugh and relax a bit. For a second the thought of being in Spider-man's arms hearing his heartbeat comes back to you, how relaxed you felt in his arms, how safe you felt. 

“So what do you do? I mean we are around the same age, are you like…let me guess a waiter or something? Or a barista at some hip coffee shop?” changing the subject from you back to him. 

He furrows his brows at you in a look of playful disgust “Did you say hip?”  

Throwing your arms up you let out a confused huff “What? New Yorkers don’t say hip?” 

“No” 

“Whatever, so what do you do, judgy pants?” 

“It’s Mr. Judgy pants to you, I go to school at Empire State University and I do freelance photography for the Daily Bugle.” 

As you two talk the washers go off and you two start gathering your things placing them in the dryer as you continue the conversion. Getting to talk to Peter like this is nice and it’s nice that you two are getting to know each other. 

“What kind of photos do you take?” you as casually as you prep the dryer settings. 

“People, landscapes, but the Bugle pays me for my Spider-man pictures.” 

The mention of Spider-man makes you pause, then you look back to Peter to see that he’s already looking at you but turns his head stuffing the dryer as you notice him. 

“Isn’t he hard to get pictures of?” you ask, trying to seem casual about your prying. 

“That is the rumor, but I have my ways” 

“Oh well we don’t want you giving up your secret ways,”  Peter smirks and starts the drier, you come to his side and whisper to him “You can tell me, you know him or something don’t you? One of your buddies or something?” 

He looks at you and laughs “More like we have a coworker kind of relationship, but it's all very confidencial I can't say anymore or I will be webbed to a bridge by my feet.” 

“I don’t see the problem?” 

“Ha. ha. You're very funny” he says, rolling his eyes at you. Before his eyes go towards you while you two sit back down to wait “So, why are you asking about Spider-man?” 

Shit, do you tell him you met him? Uhhg but then he's just going to ask more questions as you don’t want to deal with all that prying, quick defect! “He’s a superhero, who wouldn't ask some questions?” -nailed it

Peter just hums with a small nod as a response. For about 40 minutes you loop through idle small talk and silence. You had the least amount of clothes to dry compared to him. Now you two are standing at the folding tables as he helps fold your laundry, you insisted that he didn't have to help you but he insisted otherwise. Peter might not be all that bad a guy, but maybe you can be friendly acquaintances and one day possibly friends. 

“Overall, how has your move for your scholarship been treating you?” Peter suddenly asks as he folds one of your towels. He must be used to having to do chores as a kid and he folds rather nicely compared to some other college students you've known.  

“Fine…” you say a bit too high pitched to be convincing, Turning to Peter you see that he has a concerned look on his face, almost one of pity…you avert your eyes feeling your chest get tangled up again. Why does he have to look at you like you like that…don’t people know that doesn't help…

“I grew up in Queens. I've been around this place all my life, I can only imagine the adjustment you're going through. If you need help or-” Peters's voice dies off as he looks at you again seeing that you're getting upset. With a sigh, he lazily reaches into the basket to grab something to fold as you watch through the corner of your eyes you see that he grabs your lacy pink underwear. Biting back a laugh you watch as Peter feels the material confused before turning bright red and shoving them back into the basket for something else. As he’s embarrassly apologizing, you break out in hysterical laughter. 

You watch as Peter's face scrunches at you, the blush of his embarrassment still on his face. He is not as amused as you are, “Oh, don’t be so embarrassed Peter it's just panties, they won’t bite you.” 

Peter rolls his eyes and mocks laughter as he makes his way to the dryer that just got down with his clothes. You finish your folding as you hear Peter suddenly cuss, looking over you see him holding what you assume used to be a white shirt that is now splotched with red and blue. 

“Oh no, do you want help fixing it? I think I have some bleach.” approaching him you see him get tense before he pulls out all his clothes in a hurry and slips past you quickly with his basket filled. 

“It’s fine I will just get a new one,” Peter starts to move to the exit. 

“Wait? You helped me fold my clothes, do you want help?”

“No!” he quickly interjects “I uh, I like to fold my clothes…it's very…relaxing to me.” 

“Uh-” 

“See you around!” with that he rushes off and all you can do is give him a very confused look at where he once was. -weird.   

Despite Peter leaving in a rather rushed and odd matter everything before that was…. nice. After your laundry and chat session, you were finally eased enough to fall asleep for a while and rested just enough to help get you through your workday. As you're getting ready for your shift you turn on the TV, you see the weatherman from channel 12 but you quickly flip it to channel 34; per Peter's advice. 

Deciding to dress warmer for today's shift you go with your favorite pants and a black short sleeve. Yesterday's attack is still inching in the back of your mind. The thought of anyone seeing your bare skin right now makes you feel ill. Better tips be damned. Once your makeup is done, a bit darker than you would usually go, you gather your hair to wear it pinned up then you can’t seem to find your tie. 

Walking out of the bathroom you scan everywhere for it till you spot it on your nightstand, swiftly grabbing it you put up your hair but you pause for a moment looking at the note…Spider-man…

Grabbing the note you reread the simple message and observe the doodle. He saved your butt, didn't he? Looking out your window you look at the cascading of colors from the setting sun. Would you ever see him again? Get to properly thank him? The city is massive and you hear the bustling of people and machinery. A whole city he has to take care of…that's got to take its toll on a person…

As you're getting swept up in your thoughts your alarm tells you it's time to go. Gathering your coat and purse you double-check your things, wallet, keys, IDs, and planner. Pursing your lips you take a mental note: you still need to buy pepper spray and an umbrella, the weatherman said there will be rain tonight so it looks like you're out of luck for today. Maybe you could order your things and have them delivered here? As you exit your door you look towards your window with the blinds that you keep open. 

Huh, you pause before stepping towards the window where your purse was returned. Looking at the window you still see the webbing residue from last night, confirming that it all happened. As your eyes scan the webbing and then go to the city outside only one thought plagues your mind, how did Spider-man know what window was yours?  

Leaning on the bar top you let out a sigh as you watch the front door of the bar, the sound of pouring rain and soft thunder is paired with the voices of the few patrons who needed to brave the weather for their drink fix. Peter was right about the weatherman from 34, the guy knows his stuff. Peter… thinking of him you think of how he mentioned he was a photographer for the Daily Bugle… and took pics for the Spider-themed hero…

Turning your head you see the few customers seemingly content and with full glasses, so with that and it being so dead tonight you decide it would be okay to pull out your phone for some internet snooping. Usually, this is something you would never do while behind the contour but Gregory had given you the okay, he felt bad that you had to come in during this storm. The bar tonight was only being managed by three people tonight because of the rain, Gregory and his wife Melissa and you. Melissa was a delight at the bar, plus you couldn't help but smile as she severed drinks while rubbing her growing belly. 

Getting comfortable you type Daily Bugle - Spider-man in your search engine and wait for the results. Turns out that the Bugle was not the biggest Spider fan, calling him a menace and blaming him for most things. Though the articles left a sour taste in your mouth the pictures with the articles were amazing. You have seen pictures before, but those were either blurry or from a super long distance. Peter had some talent, you would have to bring that up next time you saw him in the laundry room. 

You continue looking at the pictures, Spider-man was something else. His athletic build swinging in the sky, something you did just last night; you can feel your cheeks warm at the memory, if only it wasn't raining you could have looked as you swung with him. A stray thought of the possibility of ever doing it again crossed your mind, though you doubt you would ever see him again or if you did he probably wouldn't recall you. Your eyes focus on every curve of him, the tight spandex makes your mind race with what could be underneath. And those hands…so large…

“Oh, looks like we got ourselves a web-head.” Gregory says with a chuckle as he catches a glimpse of your phone. 

“A web-head?” you had never even heard of that before what was he talking about? 

Gregory points to your phone with a deep chuckle, “Spiders fangirls, we call them web-heads.” 

Fangirl?! Your face goes red and you press your phone to your chest looking terrified which only makes him laugh, Melissa comes to swat his arm. “Don’t tease her Greg.” she turns to you with a smile “Honestly I can’t blame you, he’s just the cutest thing. Though I think he's a bit too young for me.” 

You want to deny this narrative of you having a thing for Spider-Man but her words catch you by surprise. “Wait, what do you mean? Have you met him?” 

Melissa lights up “I did, he saved my life once. It was a while back but a villain was rampaging the streets and as a car was getting flung towards me he scooped me up and swung me to safety. I tell you, my heart was racing not just from the adrenaline of the situation.” she nudges you and you both share a quick laugh while her husband huffs. 

“Why do you think he's young though?” 

“Well after he saved me he called me ma’am and I could just tell from his inflections he was still young, still figuring himself out.” -interesting, maybe you two are around the same age. 

“Then he left.” Gregory cuts in catching your attention. His face is down as he refills a glass from the tap. Turning back to Melissa she's looking at her husband with a tight-lipped gaze before turning back to you. 

“What do you mean he left?” you question

Melissa leans in almost like what she is saying is a secret “Rumor is that after a huge fight with some villains, something in him broke, like he just couldn’t handle all the pressure anymore. He was gone for months almost a full year before he returned to face the rhino. Now he’s just around again like he never left.” she shrugs “Odd right?” 

“Yeah…odd…”   

With work now over you are standing in your spot under the canopy as the rain is still coming down, though not as heavy as earlier. As the rain falls you think about the hero and his disappearing act. What would make a hero leave? Did he get hurt? Was it all too much? Shoving your hands in your pockets you sigh to yourself, maybe it's best not to dwell on it? Has nothing to do with you, though that gnawing curiosity is still in you, wanting to know more…

Not wanting a repeat of yesterday you buddle your jacket tighter to you, deciding it's best to just brave the rain and take a hot shower when you get home. Taking your first step from the safety of the canopy your skin is immediately chilling at the feeling of the rain hitting your head. Just as you go to start to run a familiar whooshing sound catches your attention making you turn back to the bar. Then right in front of you is a spider symbol. 

Looking up from his chest you see an incredibly close spider-man looking down towards you. The second thing you notice is that you no longer feel rain falling on your head looking up and seeing a red umbrella shielding you both. 

Feeling completely confused you try to form any words but all you can stammer out is a “wha-huh-what?” 

He kinda laughs. It starts naturally but you notice he deepened it a little, “Sorry to spook you, but I figured you could use this.” 

“You came here to bring me an umbrella?” you say still filled with confusion. 

“Actually I was in the area patrolling for yesterday's robber.” -oh right, “But, then I remembered you and you saying that you don’t have an umbrella, so here” 

Standing so close to him you can admire his physic better, pictures definitely didn’t fully do it justice. Maybe these web-heads are onto something….

“Thank you, but I’m a bit surprised you remembered that. I mean I know it was yesterday but don't you talk and save a bunch of people often?” 

“Yeah, to be honest I usually have a hard time remembering things or people, but you stuck out to me,” he says nonchalantly. This sudden confession makes your eyes widen as you look at him. Wait? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? 

He looks at you and seems to take in your surprised expression interpreting what you might be thinking. “I mean, it's not often I steal people's purses”

That snaps your mind back to your earlier question you had asked yourself before leaving home, “That reminds me, how did you know that was my window when you retired my purse?” 

Spider-man's eye lenses go wide for a second before he places his hand on the back of his neck, seemingly shy about it, maybe not the best time to ask him. “That I uh, I got lucky that you left your blinds open so I saw you.” 

For some reason, the thought of the masked hero being able to see you through the window makes your cheeks warm. You should close your blinds more often…or keep them open more. 

“Well, get home safe and try your best to stay dry, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.” 

You give him a confident smile and gently take the umbrella from his hand, as you do you brush your fingers with the warmth you felt yesterday.. Whoever this guy is, he is very thoughtful. But what do you expect from a hero? As you begin to walk off to hurry to your apartment you hear him call for you. Turning you see him in the rain arm reaching towards you but he quickly adjusts himself to a casual stance.  

“Do you work late every night?” 

“Most nights” you confirm

With a hum, he thinks for a moment before he nods and claps his wet hands together, “Well, I will have to make this a regular patrol area. Have a good night” 

Just like last night before you can say anything more to him he's swinging off leaving you to watch his fading figure, though you think tonight he knows you're watching by how he does a backflip in the air. Pretty impressive…

As you get into your apartment your feeling, better. Today was drastically different from yesterday's events, You still adjusting but there is a weight that seems to be lifting from your shoulders and you can't decide if it's from having a calm work day, your relationship with your obnoxious neighbor is seeming to get better, or that fact that you might be developing some kind of friendship with the infamous Spider-Man. Though you don't want to get your hopes up too much…

As you start to set your stuff down and grab a drink from your small kitchen you hear a thwap at your window. Heading over curiously you see a note stuck to your window, grabbing the note from the window you read it: 

"Glad you got home safe, you might want to close your blinds before bed.” Then there is a doodle of a spider under an umbrella, very cute. 

Looking out of the window you look around to see if you see him around one of the buildings but no luck. Grabbing your blinds you go to shut them before something makes you pause, biting your lower lip you move from the window and quickly grab a loose sheet of some pale blue stationery you bought before your move, you write a note, rereading it a few times before going to your window and placing it on the sticky web. 

A giddy feeling spreads through you as you walk away from your window to go to your room. Leaving both windows curtains open…

Tags:

@huesdreamhouse @keiva1000 @spdrwdw @betizda @lunablackcosplay @juliluvhz @avareadsthings @xxrougefangxx @briviny @llpovi @beautyb1ade

[love-toxin]

ELLIE!! SO happy that totk finally released bc there's a chance you might hyperfixate and give me the yandere link content that sustains my life force. oh and uh, cuz we waited so long for this game too, of course!

prrrrr i really do love yan Link! so many potential avenues! i was replaying totk recently (bc i was so excited for it i literally blazed thru the whole gam 8 days after release LOL) and some gems really cropped up:

1. Link makes you a little dream house in Tarrey Town to keep you safe and to take advantage of your inherent housewifery. He's so feral you don't even think about leaving even when he's gone for long stretches of time, because you know he'll track you down and drag you back home because you're not the hero silly! :) you stay home :) where it's safe :)

2. Yiga clan member reader who is constantly being hunted down and "rehabilitated" by the Hylian hero. Which is incredibly frustrating to you because a.) ur trying to kill him and b.) the other yiga quickly lose respect for you/shun you when they find out you're practically Link's little playtoy. Especially when he goes x2 as feral on the other yiga in battle when you're around cause he's bricked up at the very sight of you, and you end up getting chewed out by Kohga for letting him hit it and just escape afterwards.

3. You work at one of the stables or the little inn at Hateno village and Link falls so hard for you he's downright creepy. He's constantly hanging around and bringing you gifts and stuff you didn't ask for but you can't just tell him to go away cause...he's the hero. So you kinda just have to deal with his awkward stare and the fumbled kisses he steals behind the barn and try not to hurt his feelings because what are you gonna do if the hero of time decides to quit saving Hyrule because he got rejected?

4. You're part of the Gerudo/live in Gerudo town and Link is undeterred in his attempts to woo you, even though he can't step foot in town or he'll get locked up. So he either dresses up in the vai outfit or just lies in wait for you to leave the city for one reason or another, and then ambushes you and follows you around like a weird little stalker until you love him. Bonus if he scares off another suitor or saves you from a Molduga or--my personal favourite--your sand seal gets spooked and takes you far out into the desert and strands you by accident, and you're forced to accept Link's help when he comes to save you. And now, you owe him.

5. Much like Link, you're a fellow adventurer/wanderer/merchant/etc. and bump into him out in the wild. Maybe you share a campfire for a night and swap stories, or you give him directions, or you just wave at him in passing, and now Link is completely obsessed with you. He stalks you through the wild areas of Hyrule and never lets any harm befall you, be it monsters or gloom pits or pools of malice or just general unluckiness, and while you don't realize it's him you slowly feel less and less alone when you're out in the field. You swear you can even feel some kind of warmth when you lay down in your tent to sleep, like someone's curled up right next to you....

6. Link kidnaps you and takes you to Hyrule castle where he forcibly makes you pretend to be a princess. He dresses you up in pretty gowns and kills all the monsters lurking around so you'll always be safe, and he acts like you're his damsel in distress that he's constantly saving even though you're just some farmer girl he picked up off the side of the road and fell in love with. You're the pretty princess, he's your loyal knight, and if he does a really good job at "saving" you, maybe you'll let him stay in your room for the night when he keeps watch...?