#and almost never tries to catch the yarn or anything

[trashpandacraft]

this little guy is an obliging sock model.

most recent mindless socks are done, and now it's on to the next.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Yarnaby's Runaway

request by @jessicawesker83, hello!! finally got this done, I really like doing this one.

The sudden jolt of waking up from an unsettling, cold sleep left you disoriented. The sterile, suffocating smell of the lab was overwhelming, and the blaring white lights overhead felt like a spotlight searching for something you couldn’t quite place. The last thing you remembered was being on a field trip with your classmates, touring a science museum—or was it a research facility? No, that didn’t seem right now. As your eyes opened fully, you realized the absence of any familiar faces. In fact, there was no one at all. The place was eerily quiet, only interrupted by the occasional hum of machinery and distant, unintelligible voices.

You tried to move but found your body sluggish, your muscles stiff, as though they had been frozen in time. Your breath quickened. Where am I?

You bolted upright, panic sinking in as the reality of the cold, metal surroundings hit you like a ton of bricks. Rows of metal tables lined the walls, covered in sheets and strange equipment you had never seen before. It wasn’t a field trip anymore. I need to get out of here.

Shakily, you pushed yourself to your feet, unsure of how you even ended up in such a place. As you made your way toward the exit, you felt the ground tremble beneath your feet—something large, something heavy, moving nearby. You instinctively ducked behind a table, eyes wide with fear. You heard the shuffle of footsteps, clumsy yet unmistakably large, growing nearer. 

Then, from the shadows, you saw it.

A massive, strange lion-like creature lay on a pile of discarded bodies. The sight made your stomach churn, a mix of confusion and disgust flooding your mind. The bodies—were they... human? Some still bore the remnants of clothing, others marked with deep gashes and wounds. It wasn’t the bodies themselves that caught your eye, though, but the creature sleeping atop them.

Its fur was unlike anything you had ever seen—vibrant, multicolored yarn that looked almost cartoonish. The creature’s mane, wild and untamed, was a garish blend of hues, stretching across the floor. And though it resembled a lion in size and shape, it had no tail. Instead, its limbs seemed to stretch and twist with every movement, its paws resembling the features of an old ragdoll, only much darker.

You hid behind the nearest table, your breath catching in your throat as you slowly realized that this thing, this monster, was the very reason you were here. You had been kidnapped. Taken, like all those who had disappeared. And now, it is coming for you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing. You had to find a way out of here. Slowly, cautiously, you peered around the corner to see the creature stirring, sniffing the air with a soft, almost playful sound.

It sniffed the air again. A low growl rumbled from its throat, and its massive eyes flickered open. There was a strange innocence behind them, a playful gleam that didn’t match the bloodstained scene around it. Was it looking for me?

The creature’s nostrils flared as it sniffed again, its gaze now scanning the area. Slowly, it rose, its massive frame looming over the dead bodies, the yarn of its fur bristling as it moved. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

What do I do?

A shiver ran down your spine as the creature began moving toward you, its steps heavy and deliberate. Every inch of its monstrous form seemed to radiate an eerie calm, despite the death surrounding it. You couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t entirely bad, and wasn't fully malevolent in its intentions. It seemed almost... sad? No, you couldn’t think that way. Not now.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your shaking hands. You didn’t have much time. You needed to move.

The creature’s gaze shifted, and you could feel it locking onto your position. It grinned, a wide, toothy grin that split its face in a way that wasn’t natural. Three sharp, triangular fangs jutted from its opening, a disturbing juxtaposition to the otherwise innocent look in its eyes. 

It’s coming. I need to hide.

But it was too late. As you tried to sneak away, a sharp paw shot out from the shadows, and the next thing you knew, you were on the cold floor, pinned down by the creature’s weight. Your scream caught in your throat as the creature’s massive claws dug into the ground next to you, its grin widening.

it purred, a low, gravelly hum. 

You struggled, panic flooding your body as you squirmed under the creature’s grasp. Its limbs were far stronger than you expected, and though it was playful, you could feel an unsettling sense of power in its every move. It was toying with you, like a cat with a mouse.

“You... you’re not going to eat me, right?” you gasped, trying to push against its heavy paw.

Yarnaby’s head tilted slightly, his massive, cartoony eyes narrowing as if considering your question. He mused the thought, though his head shifted, as if he were coherently saying no. 

Before you could respond, the creature scooped you up in one swift motion, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. It carried you through the dimly lit corridors, the sounds of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. As you were whisked past walls lined with strange symbols and flickering lights, you couldn’t help but notice the unsettling quiet that seemed to hang in the air. Where were the others? Had they escaped, or...?

The answer came in the form of another disturbing sight—this one much worse. The farther you went, the more you saw the true horror of this place. The experiments. The dark, twisted creations of the Doctor. It was clear now. You weren’t in a research facility anymore. You were in a prison.

The last thing you saw before being thrown into a cold, dark cell was Yarnaby’s eyes—a mixture of sorrow and the distant echoes of something long forgotten. You didn’t know what it was about the creature that made you feel both terrified and sorry for it at the same time.

As you slumped against the cold metal bars, a distant voice echoed from behind you.

“Yarnaby,” the voice said, cold and calculating, “bring it here.”

Yarnaby looked down at you with those big, innocent eyes once more, his grin softening for the briefest of moments.

The creature stepped back, giving you a little more space before his monstrous grin reappeared.

As if he truly spoke, the thought hadn’t escaped your mind. ‘Doctor will fix you soon’ 

Yarnaby whimpered softly, before turning away. 

But even as you were left in the cold dark, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Yarnaby wasn’t like the others. There was something different about him. Something more... human.

And though you were trapped in this nightmare, deep down, you knew he was, in some strange, twisted way, a protector.

At least, that’s what the jingle of his name told you.

[crazylittlejester]

the fandom has felt kinda quiet to me for a few days now (which might totally be my fault i dont think im using this app correctly) and i kinda feel like im standing with a group of people where everyones done talking and no one know what to say next so im gonna do what i do then too: Yap ‼️ (its my one talent)

if you’d like to yap with me feel free to hop in my ask box and say whatever you like, headcanons, theories, whatever, but for now here are some random little headcanons I have:

(disclaimer: my apologies for weird spelling errors or oddly autocorrected words im dyslexic lmao)

- Wild loves to do fun things with his hair! He loves braiding it up in new styles or putting pretty things in it or buying fun clips to keep it out of his face. Sometimes one of the others with shorter hair who can’t do their own fun hairstyles will ask Wild if they can do his, and he almost always says yes

- Legend is the most likely to buy little gifts for the others. He’s not as likely as the others to verbally say he cares, and he can come off as a bit standoffish, but he really does love the others and gifting them little things is how he shows it. He bought Sky a beautiful new carving knife once, he loves giving Wild earrings (and Wild is not above just poking new holes in his ears so he can wear more of them at once), he gave Warriors a new journal one time, etc.

- Four is a HUGE fan of rain at night. He loves the sound it makes on roofs, it’s calming to him. It’s less fun when he’s sleeping outside, but he just loves the sounds and smells of rain. Warriors does too, and the two of them have sat out in the rain together silently, just enjoying each other’s company

- Twilight loves the occasional pet as Wolfie, as long as the others still hold the same respect for his physical space they do when he’s a hylian. He loves hugs, he loves the occasional pet, and he loves bonking the top of his head into the backs of Warriors’s legs to trip him before he innocently runs off to Time and acts like he’s done nothing wrong in his life ever

- Sky wakes up every day and chooses peace. He chooses kindness and love, and he seems so very calm and sweet on the outside, but if someone dares to lay a finger on someone he cares about he will explode and there will be serious consequences. He’s genuinely a very loving person, but he does have a side of him that’s just full of rage that he occasionally unleashes on monsters that deserve it. He one time let a sliver of that anger loose at a monster that knocked Wild unconscious and the others stood their with their jaws open, and then of course Sky turned back around after he calmed himself down and looked at them all like “:3”

- Hyrule cuts his own hair and because it has a good amount of curl to it, it ends up looking fluffy and it’s hard to see exactly how uneven it is. When Legend found him just trimming his hair in the dark with a knife he was like “what the fuck” and ever since he’s at least tried to help Hyrule make his hair a LITTLE more even (its still an absolute mess, but it looks fine on him)

- Wind gets under stimulated a LOT, it’s hard for him to just stay in one place or walk super slow or not be doing something with his hands, so Warriors taught him how to finger knit so he can do that while he walks as a sort of mindless activity. He doesn’t really make anything in particular, and he ends up unraveling it at the end of the day so he can keep reusing the same ball of yarn, but it helps him stay with the group and it gives him something to do as they walk

- Time is the biggest prankster of the group and he gets away with it every single time, and Wind, Wild, and Hyrule often end up taking the blame for it. The only ones who know it’s really him are Warriors (though he never actually catches him in the act, he just knows) and Twilight, who’s seen him do it several times and had to swear his silence. He’s too scared that Time will be disappointed in him if he reveals who the true prankster is, but he does feel genuinely bad every time someone else gets yelled at for one of Time’s dumbass pranks. On their last day together Time does reveal it was him all along, and then he literally leaves and disappears before the others have a chance to yell at him for it. When he arrives at the ranch alone with tears in his eyes, laughing his ass off, Malon somehow knows EXACTLY what just happened

- Warriors is usually the one who helps mend the other heroes’s clothes. They all have SOME ability to sew (some of them are better than others, like Wild and Legend, and some of them refuse to fix the holes in their clothes until it gets so bad there’s no fixing it and they literally just have to buy another tunic, *cough* Wind), but more often than not Warriors gets asked to do it, and he does it gladly. He does a wonderful job every time, and sometimes he gets to embroider little patterns, which is a lot of fun for him. When he gets bored he’ll just do that on his own spare tunics

again feel free to come talk to me in my asks or add ur own headcanons to this post :) i like to yap and i’ll gladly yap with you if you send me things

[acrossthewavesoftime]

I am, for Reasons that Be, not in a very Christmassy mood presently, but over the last couple of days, some things have happened that are so kitschy almost that they could be straight out of some Christmas movie:

I was standing at some traffic lights that had already been red for at least five minutes in a city I've not been to before with a train to catch. Just to the right of me was a parked police car with several police in it, so I was absolutely not going to risk at least a stern talking-to or at worst a fine and some obnoxious paperwork when I had places to be on time. Annoyed, I waited, as the man waiting next to me, a pretty 'business' looking 40-something with a small silver trolley suitcase, started talking to me. We tried to make light of the annoyance of waiting when suddenly, he, still suitcase in hand, assumed the pose of an Olympic athlete in the starting block and started a countdown: "anytime now!" Amused, I joined in, pulling off a bit of a comedic spectacle for another two minutes when the pedestrian crossing traffic lights finally switched to green. He excitedly waved me goodbye, laughing still.

Given the reliability (cough) of Deutsche Bahn paired with an ominous date, I was not too hopeful for my travels on Friday the 13th. Especially not when I met - let's call her Laura - at the station. Laura is unmissable because she will always give me a big wave when she sees me first, and looks very much like I would imagine a modern take on a fairy godmother from a folk tale to look like with her reddish hair, bright smile and high-vis vest, never travelling without a minimum of one knitting project in her bag, the yarn perching on top of my suitcase as we chat on the train and she works on another sock. 'Historically' speaking, Laura and I only ever seem to be on the same train when there are significant delays involved; this is how we got to talk to each other for the first time, venting as we stood next to each other in the cold, waiting for delayed trains or the emergency railway replacement service to at last show up. On Friday, we chatted as we usually do, and recalling a prior delay during which we had been comrades-in-suffering, Laura said to me, smiling as brightly as ever: "Let's hope all goes well for you today!", accompanied by making the obligatory joking 'knock on wood'-gesture against her temple. And it worked. After several annoying experiences in the past months, including drunk football fans nigh demolishing the train, a regional railway standstill and general delays, my travels were eventless and wonderfully comfortable that day. No delays to speak of, and with the usually rare available storage space for my suitcase next to my seat on every train. I have learned that she enjoys home-made bread, so perhaps, knowing her schedule, I should bring her some as an offering next time I take the same train as her.

Last month, I needed silk scarves to DIY a late 1790s headdress for a costumed event. I did the sensible thing and tried to find some on a common German platfom for small ads, and found a white one with stripes I really liked. Sadly, the lady selling it as part of liquidating unused paraphenalia from a silk-painting hobby, did not get back to me in time. Messaging me later, I bought the scarf, figuring that I could still use it alongside the one I ended up using instead, for future events. Opening the envelope she sent me, I found not only the scarf I ordered, but a very narrow, and very long table runner as well. Naturally, I thanked the lady and told her that her little extra gift was just what I could use, explaining my costuming hobby and that I would dye the table runner to make into a sash to wear over my muslin gown. She replied by saying that "it's Christmas, and surprising someone with a gift is wonderful!", adding on the accuracy of her own prediction on what I could use without knowing anything more than my postal address: "One can read minds..."

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

Chapter Five — the list

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: president snow is a warning in himself, tooth rotting fluff mostly, flirty comments, traumas, implied sex work, dissociation and i think that’s it <3

word count: 3.1k

previous part — next part

Dahlia had never managed to escape what had happened during the 67th Hunger Games for very long. Everywhere she turned, there were reminders. A cold snap in the weather. Sickles in district nine. She grew to associate the colour red with violence and blonde thirteen-year-olds with Alara. Carbon copies of the young girl she was meant to protect. Carbon copies of the young girl she couldn't save.

Even in her sleep, she could not separate herself from the horrors in the arena. Her dreams were plagued with disturbing memories. Beckett's lifeless body lying limply in her arms. The way the colour drained from Mallory's face as Dahlia slit her throat. The light leaving Xavier's eyes. How Apollo had used Eleanora's body to light a fire in the mountains. Alara crying out for her mother.

Dahlia woke with a start, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Tears gathered on her waterline and she blinked them away quickly. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of her neck and into her damp pyjama shirt.

Finnick was snoring quietly, his chest rising and falling in steady motions. He must have been a deep sleeper to keep dozing through her tossing and turning. The alarm clock on his locker flashed with a hologram of the time.

It had only just gone 10am which gave her plenty of time to relax before tonight's gala.

She pulled back the duvet covers and quietly crept her way towards her suitcase. It was still open from last night, so she didn't have to worry about the zipping noise waking him up. She pulled a yarn of wool and two knitting needles from her suitcase before tip-toeing her way onto the balcony.

It wasn't anything special: two white plastic chairs and a matching round table. There was a row of potted plants through the bars and a view of the bustling Capitol streets. Not all that different from her own hotel room.

She settled in the shade of the balcony and got to work almost straight away. She was three-quarters of the way through knitting a black sweater for her sister; Ivy had outgrown at least half of her wardrobe in the last month alone.

Having something to do took her mind off the particularly harrowing flashbacks from last night.

Beneath her, cars honked their horns at other drivers on the road and she could faintly hear a conversation from the penthouse suite above her. It was rare to have a peaceful morning in the Capitol and it certainly made her trip that much easier.

Finnick stumbled onto the balcony about an hour later. He squinted in the morning sunlight and wiped the traces of sleep from his eyes. "Morning," he sat opposite her and set two full mugs of coffee on the table. "Have you been up for long?"

Dahlia was too absorbed in her knitting to offer anything more than a shrug. Her eyes were trained on the stitches as she threaded the needles through the wool. Eventually, her fingers stilled and she discarded her completed knitting to one side. She peered into the cup he had nudged in her direction and was surprised to see that he had committed her coffee order to memory.

"Thank you," she cupped her hands around the mug, craving the warmth. Finnick shot her a soft smile and sipped his iced coffee. Dahlia tentatively lifted the mug to her lips and gulped it down, the liquid scalding her throat. "Did I wake you up? Sometimes I forgot how loud the knitting needles can be."

Finnick let out a breezy laugh and shook his head. "I'd probably sleep through an earthquake so you haven't got anything to worry about," he ran his hands through his strands of bronze hair and attempted to untangle the knots with his fingers.

"How long have you got until your first appointment this morning?" he asked gently, taking care to keep the question as casual as he could. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it. "Have you got enough time for me to show off my magnificent breakfast skills? I can assure you that it'll be worth it," he grinned, cockiness seeping from every word.

Dahlia bit back a smile and ducked her head until she had regained her composure. "That depends on whether or not pancakes are on the agenda," she quipped, her head tilted at an angle. "I have very high standards, you know," she teased with raised brows.

Finnick ran his tongue over his teeth and jumped to his feet, digging his hands into the deep pockets of his pyjama pants. "Oh, I'm sure you do honey." He yanked open the balcony door and the curtains fluttered in the wind.

She gathered her patchwork into her arms and slipped into their hotel room, sliding across the wooden floorboards in her white socks. She placed the almost-finished sweater vest on her bedside locker and dug the knitting needles into the ball of wool for safekeeping.

Finnick was scouring through a cupboard for a frying pan as she made her way towards the kitchenette and opened the fridge.

She sifted through packets of waffles and bottles of pink lemonade in search of the butter, which was the only thing she couldn't pinpoint a location on.

Letting out a small noise of triumph, she pushed herself onto her tippy-toes and pulled the butter from its hiding space. To his credit, Finnick had pulled the rest of the ingredients out of the cupboards while she was preoccupied.

She used her hip to push him aside and he laughed, folding his arms across his chest like a child that had been kicked out of the kitchen while the adults were talking.

"I thought I was meant to be making you breakfast," he protested, a slight whine in his voice as he leaned against the oven.

A smart remark died on her tongue when someone knocked on the door. She fired a tea towel at his chest and he caught it without even blinking. "If you give me food poisoning, I'll kill you," she warned.

Dahlia stepped away from the oven to see who was hammering their fists against the door at this time in the morning. Her gaze softened when she saw a young Avox on the other side of the door. The boy held an envelope in his hands and he couldn't be any older than twelve.

"Hi there," she sunk to her knees and clasped her hands together in her lap. Dahlia didnt like towering over him - it may come off as intimidating and she didnt want him to be frightened of her. "Is this for me?" she whispered, pointing at the letter clutched in his fist. He nodded nervously and placed it into her outstretched palm. "Thank you." He picked up his feet and scurried off down the hallway.

Dahlia hauled herself to her feet and closed the door, wandering back into the kitchen with the letter in her hand. Finnick cracked an egg against the side of a mixing bowl as she sat on the countertop next to him.

Dahlia's eyes briefly scanned the neat handwriting on the front of the envelope and she let a laugh slip past her lips. She ripped it open and read through the letter as Finnick flipped the pancakes in the air.

Dear Dahlia,

Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were going out with Finnick O'Dair? I want to know every little detail. Since when? What's he like? Is he really as handsome as everyone says? Does he treat you like you hung the moon and stars? He better. You deserve someone who treats you like there's nowhere else they'd rather be than with you, Lia. I can't wait till you get home, so please write me back as soon as you get this

Did you know otters sleep holding hands so that they don't drift away from each other? I bet you didn't know that, did you? Tell Finnick. Tell him. I bet he won't know that either! And tell him that there are six thousand different types of coral. I think he'll like that one because of his district.

I wish you were here. I miss you terribly. River won't let me feed Thumper ice cream and he's really not a good cook. I think I might die of starvation by the time you get home. Also, Wyatt is sad again and I don't know how to cheer him up. River is trying his best but he keeps giving out and shouting at him for not moving from the couch. I'm trying to look after him because I might not know how to make him feel better, but at least I don't scream at him.

You're the only one who knows how to make him do things. He doesn't eat a lot, even when I add smiley faces to his food, which usually works for me. Anyway, please tell me how you do it and maybe it'll work.

I hope you are doing okay. Tell Finnick that I said hello. Everything is okay so please try not to worry. Thumper is alive and thriving. You were right, he does like lettuce. Anyway, write back and let me know how you're getting on.

Lots of love,

Juniper xx

"Pancakes are ready," Finnick announced, transferring them onto linen napkins marked with the Capitol's seal. He grabbed the sugar and lemon from the cupboard above his head and joined Dahlia at the kitchen table.

She wasted no time in rolling up the pancake and ripping into it with her teeth. "June wants me to tell you that there's six thousand different types of sea coral," she covered her mouth with her hand as she spoke. An amused smile played on his lips. "She wants me to find out if you knew that or not."

Finnicks warm laughter filled the room and it made her heart buzz with that pleasant feeling again. "I didn't know that," he admitted, sprinkling sugar over his pancakes. "Is she a fan of the water then?"

"Ironically, she's petrified of the water. I've tried to teach her to swim but she wasn't having a bar of it. No, she just likes memorizing facts and then repeating them in her head," Dahlia explained.

He was about to answer when someone rapidly knocked their knuckles against the door. His spine straightened out and he struggled to his feet, but she was closer and beat him to it. A glance at the clock told her that it had just gone noon which meant that it was probably one of their prep teams ready to poke and prod them into perfection.

She unbolted the door, expecting to see Bloom or Caspian standing on the other side, but was met with an unpleasant surprise. Dahlia's blood ran cold.

President Snow's right-hand man, Everett Montgomery, was on their doorstep. Two armed peacekeepers accompanied him.

"Miss Holloway. Is Mr O'Dair around?" Everett grunted. Finnick ran to the door at the sound of his name and Dahlia absentmindedly put herself between him and Everett. "I'm to escort you both to President Snow's mansion. He would like a word."

Dahlia stood her ground and dug her heels into the floorboards as Everett tried to push his way into their hotel room. "I'm afraid you will have to wait ten minutes while we get ready." Everett opened his mouth to protest but she was quick to cut him off. "I wasn't asking for permission."

By the look on Everett's face, it was evident that he had never been told no before. She left no room for arguing and with his mouth hanging open in shock, Dahlia slammed the door in his face and locked it for good measure.

"You have five minutes, Miss Holloway!"

The room was swaying as Dahlia stepped away from the door. She moved over to the sofa and pulled herself together. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom to get changed? I won't be long," she sat on the sofa and pulled her case apart in her haste to find a change of clothes.

"Yeah, go ahead," Finnick yanked a few items of his own from the chest of drawers. "There's no rush. Everett can't exactly leave without us, anyway."

Dahlia disappeared into the bathroom and winced when she saw her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. The lace of her pyjama shirt was barely concealing the hickeys along her collarbones. Her hair was disastrous and she had a feeling it would take a while to untangle all of the knots. She hadn't done a good job of cleaning off her makeup last night; she could still see streaks of foundation along her face.

She stepped out of her pyjamas and discarded them on the bathroom floor. Slipping a black shirt over her head and pulling a pair of ripped jeans over her wide hips, she ran her brush through her long locks of caramel hair. She never bothered with makeup -- she had enough of that during galas -- and once the traces of last night's mess were gone, she pulled on a pair of shoes and peeked her head out of the door, eyes firmly squeezed shut. "Are you decent?"

"Don't act as if you wouldn't love to see me without my clothes on, honey."

"Finnick!"

"Calm down, I'm only pulling your leg, of course, I'm decent," he laughed and laced up his trainers. He turned to her as she bundled her pyjamas into her suitcase. "You ready honey?"

She glared at him but there was no heat behind the look. Maybe the nickname was starting to grow on her more than she cared to admit.

Everett hammered his fists against the door until they answered. He marched them into the elevator and the peacekeepers were practically walking on the back of their heels. If she had to guess, they were under strict instructions to make sure neither of them made a run for it.

The armed peacekeepers cleared a path through the mass of reporters gathered outside the hotel entrance. Everett ushered them into the back of a limousine with tinted windows and jumped into the passenger seat. The driver stepped on the gas pedal, weaving in and out of the crowds as photographers continued trying to snap a shot of them.

The pancakes had turned sour in Dahlia's stomach and she was praying they wouldn't make a reappearance. She smoothed her hands along the material of her trousers, fingers gliding over her kneecaps. It was soothing and she managed to keep her breakfast down the entire car ride.

Everett led them into President Snow's mansion and guided them down secret hallways that were guarded by armed peacekeepers in crisp white uniforms.

While Dahlia had been in the President's mansion for many a gala, she had only been invited into his private quarters twice before; the first when she was propositioned on being sold to rich Capitol men and women and the second after her parents were murdered and she had exchanged her bodily autonomy for her sibling's freedom.

Everett slowed to a stop in one of the corridors and gestured to two plush velvet armchairs and an array of magazines. "Wait here. I'll call you when the President is ready," he opened the heavy double doors to Snow's study and let it slam closed while they took their seats.

Adrenaline shot through Dahlia's body like a drug. Not knowing why they had been called in for a meeting was killing her. She was too busy wrecking her brain for what they could have possibly done wrong to notice that her cuticles were starting to bleed.

Finnick's leg was bouncing up and down as he reached across and gently took her hand in his own. "Stop that," he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, trying to provide a slither of comfort in the darkly lit hallway. She couldn't get the words to leave her mouth so she squeezed his hand to convey her thanks.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as they sat in the corridor. It felt like waiting on death row because whatever Snow wanted, it couldn't be good.

After what felt like a lifetime, Everett beckoned them inside.

Finnick gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he led the way into the study. President Snow sat behind an oak desk, fussing over a white rose in his lapel. He didn't look up until the two of them were settled in the chairs opposite him. "I've always favoured the white roses. They bring out my eyes, don't you think?"

Dahlia had a habit of laughing at inconvenient times and she bit down on her tongue to stop that from happening. It was probably a rhetorical question, anyway. "You wanted to see us, President Snow?"

"Yes, Miss Holloway, I did," Snow left the rose alone and clasped his hands in front of him. "I want to commend you both on your acting, for starters."

"Who said we were acting?" she countered.

He shot her a tight-lipped smile. "Let's cut to the chase, my dear. I'm sure you're aware that there's been an increase in demand for your services. I wanted to personally make sure you both understand that our agreement has not changed. Here is a list of clients that you need to see before you are free to go home."

He slid two pieces of paper across the table. Finnick couldn't help but notice that Dahlia's list was significantly longer than his.

Dahlia wondered how mad the president would be if she ripped up his goddamn list. "There are at least forty names here."

"Seventy-five. There's more names on the back," Snow corrected matter-of-factly. "I must remind you that your clients are to be treated with the utmost respect. That goes for you as well, Finnick. We wouldn't want a tragic accident to occur, now would we?"

Dahlia dug her nails into the palms of her hand until blood dripped down her wrists. Her jaw clenched and she refused to break eye contact with him.

Fire burned through her veins, setting her nerve-endings alight and it was at that moment that she knew Snow was going to regret ever laying eyes on her.

She was going to burn the Capitol down from the inside out.

[aceofstars16]

A fic I started writing a *while* ago and finally finished! I was going to try to draw something to go with it, but it's already been sitting for weeks or even months so...I'm just gonna share it now xD

Mabel is creating another sweater masterpiece, but then someone unexpected asks for her assistance.

Mabel was in the zone. Her fingers moved quickly, the clacking of her knitting needles filled the air. This was going to be a GREAT sweater. One of her best! Well, all of them were the best, but still!

She was vaguely aware of Dipper telling her he was going out with Soos and Stan to do…something, she didn’t quite catch what it was. But that was fine, this sweater would take up at least another hour, probably more. And if they weren’t back by then, well, she could start on another one. Or have a dance part with Waddles. Or about a million other things.

The TV was on as Mabel worked. She was half watching, half working, just how she liked it. Which is probably why didn’t notice Dipper leaving. Or just about anything else going on in the shack. That is, until someone coughed. Well, she might not have noticed that either, but it was kind of loud. Almost like they had already coughed once.

Looking up, a grin broke out on Mabel’s face as she saw Ford standing in the doorway.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel held up her sweater. “What do you think?”

Ford glanced at the sweater, taking it in for a moment, then a hesitant smile grew on his face. “It’s uh, it’s very colorful.”

“Right?” She held up the yarn she was using. “I have been wanting to use these colors for ages and I finally got around to it, and it looks awesome!”

Ford nodded, but didn’t say anything else, almost as if he was at a loss for words.

Then Mabel had a spark of genius. “Oh my gosh! I can make you a sweater! I’ve tried making some for Dipper but he never wears them. I think ‘cause of his sweating problem. And I’ve offered to make one for Stan too. He says he doesn’t need one, but I’ll wear him down soon, I know it. But! You already wear sweaters!”

For a moment, Ford just stared at her, then he shook his head. “Oh, ah. No, that’s fine. I don’t need a new sweater.”

Mabel’s shoulders drooped and the sweater she had been holding up fell in her lap. All the of ideas she had been coming up with in the last few seconds came screeching to a halt.

“Oh, but uh, I do actually have a favor to ask. And it does involve sweaters.” Ford pulled his hands out from behind his back and showed her the black turtleneck he had been wearing when he’d first come out of the portal, along with the red one she’d seen him wear for the past few days. It was only now that she realized he was wearing a white button up instead of his normal sweater, though his coat was pulled tightly around his neck. “These have a few holes in them. I…can patch them myself, but-”

“I can help!” Mabel sat up straight, her smile returning to her face. “I can do it right now if you want!”

Ford held up a hand. “Oh, no, that’s fine. Just when you have time. I’ll leave them here.” He placed the sweaters on the edge of the couch.

Mabel couldn’t stop herself from picking up one of them. “I can do it now, really, you could even stay and-”

“No, no. Really. It’s fine. There are some things I need to attend to.” Ford gave her an awkward smile which she tried to return despite her disappointment. She really wanted to get to know Ford better.

“I’ll leave you to your current project.” Ford raised a hand in farewell, then turned and left without another word.

Mabel frowned at the empty hallway where her grunkle had been. Then she glanced at the sweater in her lap. “Sorry rainbow sweater, but I have another project I gotta work on first.” Placing aside her colorful top, Mabel picked up the black turtleneck and frowned. It was so dark, and as she examined it, she saw a bunch of holes in it. The red one was better, but still way too holey.

Carefully placing all of the sweaters on the couch, she raced upstairs. Ford might’ve said he only needed a patch job, and he’s said there was no rush. but Mabel knew she couldn’t pass up this opportunity. This was her chance to make something for her new grunkle – even if it was just adding something to his current clothes – and she was not going to wait to get started.

------

Ford frowned as he stared at the rift, moving within its containment unit. He was still at a loss as to how to get rid of it, if he even could. It was just another reminder of his mistakes, and now, thanks to Stan, he was back to square one with stopping Bill too.

The sound of the elevator opening sent a wave of panic through Ford and he quickly closed the door to the cabinet he had been keeping the rift in. He’d told Dipper, yes, but he didn’t want to risk anyone else knowing about it.

“Grunkle Ford!”

Spinning around, Ford was met with the sight of Mabel grinning, her hands behind her back. He was more than a little surprised to see her, it had only been an hour or so since he’d gone upstairs to give her his sweaters.

“So, I know you said there wasn’t a rush, but I really wanted to work on your sweaters right away…” Mabel pulled her hands from behind her back to show him the sweaters. “But I really wanted to do them now!”

For a moment, Ford stared at her. She had worked fast! He wasn’t very knowledgeable about knitting, but he had always assumed it took a while to make something. Then again, he’d only asked for a patch job, so maybe that didn’t take as long.

Reaching forward, he picked up the top sweater – his red one – which, upon further inspection, he could see was now free of holes. “Thank you, Mabel, I appreciate-” He trailed off as he caught sight of his black turtleneck. Because it was no longer fully black. There were grey and white polka dots scattered over the whole thing and on the front was a stitched six fingered hand.

“You like it?” Mabel grinned, holding up the sweater. “There were a lot more holes, and I didn’t have much black left. And I thought ‘hey, everyone loves polka dots!’ and since you have a fix fingered hand on your journal, I figured that would be a fun touch too!”

For a moment, Ford just stood there processing the information. He’d only asked for a patch job, he really didn’t need anything extra, and he would’ve gladly waited for her to get more yarn that would match. But then he met her gaze and saw the pure excitement and enthusiasm shining in her eyes. He couldn’t help but remember her creativity when playing DD & More D, and the fact that she had channeled that into one of his sweaters and was so excited about it…He found a small smile growing on his face as well.

“Thank you, Mabel. I love it.”

“Really?!?” Mabel beamed, holding it out to him.

He accepted it and placed it above the red sweater that he had draped on his arm.

“Are you gonna try it on?”

Ford couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Alright, I’ll try it on.” He handed her the red sweater before carefully pulling the black one over his head. He glanced down at it and smiled. It wasn’t his style at all - even after thirty years in other dimensions, he still found himself trying not to draw attention to his extra fingers - but for some reason, he didn’t mind seeing it displayed on a sweater.

“It looks perfect! Now we really are sweater twins!”

“I suppose we are.” Ford smiled fondly at her enthusiasm. It really was contagious.

“Oh! I forgot! I need to let Waddles out for a bit, he’s been cooped up for hours and I can’t let him out without supervision!” Mabel quickly handed the red sweater to Ford and raced towards the elevator, but not before giving Ford one last grin. “I’m glad you love your sweaters Grunkle Ford!”

Ford watched as the elevator doors closed. Then he glanced down at the sweater before looking up at the dismantled portal and the cabinet with the rift in it. His work tended to be quite messy. With a frown, he carefully removed the black sweater and replaced it with the red. It was a special gift and he didn’t want to accidentally ruin it. No, he decided that it would be saved for very special occasions. After all, this was the first gift he’d received in a long time, especially from family. And for that, it deserved to be treated as the treasure that it was.

[galaxyblast23]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4

Third Person P.O.V

They tore through the stormy night along the dark country roads, wind slammed against the Camaro.

Rain lashed the windshield, (Y/n) didn't know how Sally could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

Every time lightning flashed (Y/n) would look over at Grover and debate if she was going insane or not at what she was seeing.

All she could say was, "so you know our mothers?" Grover looked away from the window at the girl.

"Not exactly," he said, "I mean, we've never met in person, but they knew I was watching you guys."

"Watching us?"

"Keeping tabs on you two, making sure you guys were okay, but I wasn't faking being your guys friend," he added hastily, "I am your guys friend."

"Um...what are you exactly?" Percy popped in the conversation.

"That doesn't matter right now," Grover told him.

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down our best friend is a donkey-"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!" Both Percy and (Y/n) have heard him make that sound before but they both assumed it was a nervous laugh.

"Goat!" Grover cried.

"What?" (Y/n) looked at him confused.

"I'm a goat from the waist down," Grover explained, annoyed.

"You just said it didn't matter," she pointed out.

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult," he gave Percy a pointed look.

"Woah, wait, satyrs? You mean like... Mr. Brunner's myths?" Percy asked.

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?" Grover squinted.

"So you do admit there's a Mrs. Dodds?" (Y/n) called him out quickly.

"Of course," he replied in a tone that said 'duh.'

"Then why-"

"The less you two knew, the less monsters you'd both attract," Grover said, like it should be perfectly obvious.

"We put Mist over the humans' eyes, we hoped you'd both think the Kindly One was a hallucination, but it was no good, you both started to realize who you are," He explained.

"Who we-wait a minute, what do you mean?" (Y/n) stressed.

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before.

Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail. "Kids," (M/n) said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time, we have to get you both to safety."

"Safe from what? who's after us?" Percy questioned.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment, "just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!" Sally scolded.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson, could you drive faster please?" (Y/n) tried to wrap her mind around all this madness but couldn't come close to doing so.

Sally made a hard right causing them to swerve onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'Pick your own strawberries' signs on the fences.

"Where are we going?" Percy asked.

"To the summer camp we told you about," (Y/n)'s mother's voice was tight; she trying for the two demi-gods sake to not be scared, "the place your fathers wanted us to send you."

"The place you both didn't want us to go to," Percy spoke up.

"Please, kids," his mom begged, "this is hard enough, try to understand, you both are in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," Percy stated in disbelief, making (Y/n) confused.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said, "those were the fates, do you know what it means-the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to...when someone's about to die."

"Whoa, you said 'you'," Percy freaked.

"No I didn't, I said 'someone,'" Grover said.

"You meant 'you', as in 'him'" (Y/n) jumped in, Percy nodding in agreement.

"I meant you, like 'someone,' not you, you."

"Kids!" Sally scolded.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, causing (Y/n) to catch a glimpse of the figure that Sally had swerved to avoid-a dark fluttering shape now lost behind them in the storm.

"What....What was that..." (Y/n) asked, fear evident in voice.

"We're almost there," Sally said, ignoring the girl's question, "another mile, please, please, please."

(Y/n) nor Percy knew where there was, but both found themselves leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting to arrive to their destination.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness-the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island.

(Y/n) thought about Mrs.Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings.

(Y/n)'s limbs went numb from delayed shock, Mrs. Dodds hadn't been human, she'd meant to kill Percy and (Y/n).

The girl then thought about Mr. Brunner...and the sword he had thrown at Percy.

Before (Y/n) could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of her neck, there was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and their car exploded.

(Y/n) remembered feeling weightless, like she was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time.

She peeled her forehead off the back of the driver's seat,"Ow."

"Kids!" (M/n) shouted.

"We're okay..." Percy spoke up.

(Y/n) tried to shake off the daze, they weren't dead, the car hadn't really exploded, they had swerved into a ditch.

Their driver's side doors were wedged in the mud.

The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in.

Next to Percy was a big motionless lump.

"Grover!" (Y/n) exclaimed, he was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

Percy shook Grover's furry hip, both him and (Y/n) worried for his safety.

Grover then groaned, "Food," and they knew there was hope.

"Kids," Sally said, "we have to..." her voice faltered.

(Y/n) looked back, in a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, she saw a figure lumbering towards them on the shoulder of the road.

The sight of it made her skin crawl, it was a dark silhouette of a huge figure, the top half of the figure was bulky and fuzzy, his upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

"Who is-" Percy started.

"Kids," Sally said, deadly serious, "get out of the car."

Percy's mother threw herself against the driver's-side door, it was jammed shut in the mud.

(Y/n) tried her's which was stuck too. She looked up desperately at the hole in the roof, it might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" (M/n) told them.

"Kids-you have to run, do you see that big tree?" Sally urged.

"What?" Percy questioned.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof the kids saw the tree the older woman meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine tree at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," (M/n) said, "get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley, run and don't look back, yell for help, don't stop until you both reach the door."

"Mom, you guys are coming too," (Y/n) said to her mom, (M/n)'s face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she see the sun rise and set.

"No!" (Y/n) shouted, "you and Sally are coming with us, help us carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder.

The figure kept coming towards them, making grunting and snorting noises.

"He doesn't want us," Sally told them, "He wants you two, besides we can't cross the property line."

"But..." Percy started.

"We don't have time, kids, go, please," Sally urged them.

Both (Y/n) and Percy were mad at everything withing this situation.

(Y/n) and Percy climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain, "we're going together, come on," (Y/n) said, too stubborn to leave them behind.

"I told you-" (M/n) started.

"We are not leaving you guys, help us with Grover," Percy said.

They didn't wait for either of their mothers to answer, they scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car.

He was surprisingly light, but they couldn't have carried him very far if their moms hadn't come to their aid.

Together, they draped Grover's arms over the two kids shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, (Y/n) got her first clear look at the monster.

He was seven feet tall, easily, his arms and legs were bulging, he wore no clothes except underwear, which would have been funny, except the top half of his body was so scary.

Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

The kids recognized the monster, all right, he had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told them, but he couldn't be real.

(Y/n) blinked the rain out of her eyes, "that's-"

"Pasiphae's son," (M/n) said, "I wish I knew how bad it really would be for you too."

"But he's the Min-" Percy started.

"Don't say his name," Sally warned, "names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far-a hundred yards uphill at least, (Y/n) glanced over her shoulder again.

The bull-man hunched over their car, looking in the windows-or not looking exactly.

More like snuffling, nuzzling, (Y/n) wasn't sure why she bothered, since they were only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

"Shhh," Percy told him, "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?""His sight and hearing are terrible," Sally said.

"He goes by smell, but he'll figure out where we are soon enough," (M/n) continued.

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof and threw it down in anger.

"(Y/n)," (M/n) started, squatting down to her daughter's eye level as Percy listened as well, "when he sees us, he'll charge, wait until the last second, then jump out of the way-directly sideways, he can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?" (Y/n) asked.

"We've been worried about an attack for a long time, we should have expected this, we were selfish, keeping you both with us," (M/n) said before reaching into her pocket, taking out a bracelet with a shiny sun and putting it on (Y/n)'s wrist.

"Your father wanted me to give this to you when you were ready, it's called Ilios, which means sun."

"Ilios? What-" Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill, he smelled them. The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The bull-man closed in, another few seconds and he'd be on top of them.

Sally and (M/n) must've been exhausted, but they shouldered Grover, "go, kids! Separate! Remember what we said!" (M/n) exclaimed."

The kids didn't want to split up, but they both had a feeling their mothers were right-it was their only chance.

Both kids sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature bearing down in them, his black eyes glowed with hate, he reeked like rotten meat.

The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned, but not towards the kids this time but towards their mothers, who were setting Grover down in the grass.

They reached the crest of the hill, down the other side they could see the valley, just as both older women said, and the light of the farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain.

But that was half a mile away, they'd never make it.

The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground, he kept eyeing the kids mothers, who were now retreating slowly downhill, back towards the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run, kids!" Sally told them.

"We can't go any farther, run!" (M/n) yelled.

But they just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged at them, they both tried to to sidestep, but the monster had learned his lesson.

His hands shot out and grabbed them both by their necks as they tried to get away, he lifted them as they struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!" Both Percy and (Y/n) yelled. Sally caught their eyes, and managed to choke out one last word: "Go!" Then with an angry roar, the monster closed both his fists around their necks, and they dissolved in front of their own kids eyes as they turned into golden dust. "

NO!" Both kids scream.

Anger replaced the fear that the kids had, newfound strength burned in their limbs-the same rush of energy they'd gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons.

The bull-man bore down on Grover, who was laying helpless in the grass, the monster hunched over, snuffling the saytr, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.

(Y/n) took off her (f/c) raincoat and started waving it frantically, "HEY!" She screamed.

"Hey stupid! Ground beef!" Percy shouted.

The monster roared and turned towards them, shaking his meaty fists.

(Y/n) had an idea-it was an incredibly stupid idea, but better than no idea at all, she put her back to the pine tree as Percy waited at the side.

(Y/n) waved her jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking she'd jump out of the way at the last moment, but it didn't happen like that.

The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab her whichever way she tried to dodge, time slowed down. Her legs tensed, she could jump sideways, so she leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using is as a springboard, turning midair, and landing on his neck. How did she do that? She didn't have time to figure it out.

A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked (Y/n)'s teeth out.

The monster staggered around, trying to shake her, but she locked her arms around his arms as to not get thrown.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass, (Y/n) wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way she was getting tossed around, if she opened her mouth she'd bite her own tongue off.

"Food!" Grover moaned.

The bull-man wheeled toward him, and pawed the ground again and got ready to charge.

(Y/n) thought about how this beast had squeezed the life out of her mother and her best friend's mom in front of them.

Rage began to fill her as she got both of her hands around of the horns and pulled backward with all her might.

The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then-snap! The bull-man screamed and flung the young girl through the air, she landed flat on her back next to Percy, who immediately checked if she was okay.

Her head smacked against a rock, and when she sat up, her vision was blurry, but she had a horn in her hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.

The monster charged, without thinking, Percy grabbed (Y/n) and jumped to one side and came up kneeling and (Y/n) sitting by him.

As the monster barreled past, (Y/n) suddenly drove the broken horn straight into his side, right into his furry rib cage. The monster roared in agony, he flailed, clawing at his chest, as he began to disintegrate- but not like her and Percy's mom who disappeared into a gold flash but into dust.

The monster was gone, the rain had stopped, and Percy and (Y/n) were both dizzy and exhausted.

They were too tired to even cry, which they had really wanted to do after losing their mothers, they were weak, scared, and in grief.

But Grover needed their help, so they both managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the light of the farmhouse.

Percy had a sad look while (Y/n) was crying over losing the only person who stuck around for her.

The last thing (Y/n) remembered is collapsing on a wooden porch with her best friends, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above her.

Then seeing the stern faces of a familiar looking man and a handsome boy around her age, his short blonde hair was curled like a prince's.

They both looked down at them, and the boy said, "they're the ones, they have to be."

"Silence, Andrew," the man said, "their still conscious, bring them inside.

[d8nielaa]

hey love! how are you doing? i hope you had a great trip to new york and all is good!

i have a jason request...

my request is kind of inspired by your jelly cat fic but instead of a jellycat could it be a fuggler? i just recently seen them and i instantly was so curious to see a fic about it.

but instead of jason simply buying it for her could it be that it is the readers birthday and at her party her best friend bought it for her as a joke but she is scared of it but doesnt want to hurt her bestfriends feelings so she says that she loves it and puts it in her and jason's room on their bed and once they go to bed jason tries to take it off sneakily since he hates that thing but reader catches him and put it right back on the bed as something she sleeps with (LOL could not be me) so she decides to mess with jason and show how attached to it she is and takes it with her everywhere because she knows jason wants to get rid of it but jason confesses HE HATES THAT THING and reader has no choice but break and agree with him.

Authors Note: hai anon! Im doling great thank you so much for asking! my trip was amazing (aside from the part where I never actually got to see the outsiders 🥲 because of the matinee getting canceled) I would LOVE write this idea for you!

What is that?

Jason Schmidt x fem!reader

It was supposed to be a chill birthday party. Just a few close friends, some cake, and maybe a few drinks—nothing too fancy. But then your best friend, Jess, showed up with the gift that would completely derail the evening.

The moment you saw it, you knew something was wrong.

A Fuggler.

One of those bizarre, unsettling creatures that seemed to exist purely to haunt your nightmares. Its beady eyes were unnaturally large, its crooked smile stretching too far across its face, and it had a wild mess of yarn hair on top of its head that looked like it had been stuck in a dryer for too long. There was no denying that it was, in every way, hideous.

Jess practically threw it at you with glee. “I knew you’d love it!” she said, her excitement radiating as she grinned at the monstrosity in your hands. “Isn’t it adorable? I thought it’d be perfect for you!”

You stared at the Fuggler, forcing a smile as everyone else at the party watched with wide eyes, waiting for your reaction. It was awkward, and you had no idea how to express the horror you felt without hurting Jess’s feelings.

“Wow,” you said, mustering all the enthusiasm you could. “It’s… um, it’s so unique! Thank you, Jess. I love it.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything more. The thing was a terror, but your best friend’s face was lighting up, and you couldn’t ruin the moment. You just couldn’t.

When the party died down a bit, and everyone else was distracted, you managed to sneak away to your and Jason’s shared room, the Fuggler still in your arms. You set it down on the bed, a small part of you hoping it would just disappear somehow, but it was there, staring at you with its unsettling grin.

Later that night, when Jason came into the room after showering, he paused in the doorway. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the Fuggler on the bed, and you could almost hear his thoughts—he’d probably never seen something quite as disturbing before.

“Hey, babe,” he said casually, though his gaze was still fixed on the creature. “What’s with the… uh, the thing on the bed?”

You sighed, trying to sound casual about it, even though you wanted to be anywhere but here. “It’s a birthday gift from Jess. She’s super proud of it, so I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “A gift? That thing looks like it crawled out of a horror movie.”

You chuckled nervously. “I know, but… I have to keep it on the bed. I told Jess I loved it, so it’s kinda… staying here for now.”

Jason made a face. “So… it stays on the bed? And you’re not gonna, like, throw it in the trash?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the look of utter disdain on his face. “It’s not like I can just throw it away. I said I loved it.”

Jason groaned dramatically, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching with amusement. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

You smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you mean…”

Later, when you were both lying in bed, Jason shifted uncomfortably as the Fuggler sat at the foot of the bed, its creepy grin illuminated by the dim light. He tried to pull the blanket over his face, clearly trying to block out the sight of it. You noticed how he kept tossing and turning, clearly disturbed.

Then, without warning, Jason reached out and grabbed the Fuggler from the foot of the bed. He looked at it for a long moment, clearly weighing his options, before deciding to sneakily toss it across the room onto the chair in the corner.

“Jason!” you gasped, catching him mid-action. You sat up quickly, a small laugh escaping you as you grabbed the Fuggler and placed it back on the bed. “What are you doing?”

Jason sighed, throwing his arm over his face. “I hate that thing. I thought maybe if I tried to move it, it would, like, go away. But it’s… it’s still here.”

You grinned. “Well, it’s here to stay. Jess would be so upset if I got rid of it.”

Jason groaned loudly, rolling over onto his stomach. “I don’t care how upset she gets. That thing is haunting me. I don’t know how you can sleep with it.”

“Well,” you said, smirking, “it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

Jason let out a long sigh, clearly done with the whole thing. “I swear I’ll burn it when you’re not looking.”

The next day, you couldn’t resist messing with him. You took the Fuggler with you everywhere—downstairs to make breakfast, to the couch while you watched TV, even to the grocery store, just for kicks. Every time Jason saw you holding it, his eyes would narrow, and he’d mumble under his breath.

“Seriously, why are you doing this to me?”

You kept it up for a few days, even taking it on a walk around the block with you. Jason would watch you with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance, but he never tried to get rid of it while you were around. His patience was starting to wear thin, and you were loving it.

Finally, one night, after a particularly long day of you toting the Fuggler around like it was your new best friend, Jason broke.

“You know,” he said, his tone more serious now, “I really, really hate that thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock shock. “What? You hate it? But I thought we were bonding.”

Jason shook his head, clearly defeated. “You’re killing me, babe. It’s not even cute. It’s like the creepy thing from my nightmares.”

You crossed your arms and pouted, trying to hold back your laughter. “So, you’re saying you don’t want me to sleep with it? Or take it everywhere I go?”

Jason rubbed his temples, looking utterly exhausted. “Please, no. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll never get any sleep with that thing around. You’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You grinned, enjoying every second of it. “Say what?”

“I hate it,” Jason finally admitted, his voice a mix of exasperation and affection. “I can’t do it. I can’t live like this anymore. It’s ruining my life.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, tossing the Fuggler onto the couch and wrapping your arms around him. “Okay, okay. I’ll get rid of it. You win.”

Jason sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug. “Thank god. I was starting to think I’d have to sleep on the couch just to avoid it.”

You smirked. “You’re lucky I love you. But don’t worry—Jess is getting it back. You won’t be rid of it for long.”

Jason groaned again, his face buried in your shoulder. “I’ll never be free.”

But even with that, you both knew you had to do something about the Fuggler. It wasn’t going anywhere. But at least for now, Jason could sleep without having to worry about it staring at him from across the room.

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

Authors Note: someone please buy me a fuggler so I can bedazzle it

[aajjks]

outfit: https://pin.it/435lmeiTS

mommy issues!JK

you shake your head “no. i don’t want it anymore. i’ll figure something out. you wanna bathe seol or do you want me to?” you finally cleared your mind about last night. you sort of made peace with your mistake and you’ve concluded that working anything pertaining to the jang’s is a big NO. jungkook giving you the green light to do so doesn’t put a smile on your face and you aren’t relieved either. his reaction ruined it for you but you’ll move on.

there are plenty of jobs, you just have to keep looking and have faith that you’ll get hired. your tone isn’t the nicest but jungkook understands that you don’t want to talk to him about it. he’s still hurt (so are you) but if you’re not taking it then he shouldn’t be upset about it anymore right? right?

jungkook agrees to bathe seol and you’ll be in charge of taking him to school. perfect, because when you drop him off you can head to this crocheting class jihyo invited you to. you aren’t sure how she got your number but it was probably given by alina. after you take a shower, you style your hair similar to yesterday, and throw on a simple outfit. the final touch? fenty lip gloss and coco chanel perfume.

“mommy, you look so pretty!”

“thanks seol. finish eating okay?”

“okay!”

once seol finishes eating, he puts on his book bag on, grabs his lunch bag, and gives his father one last big hug before leaving with you. you tell jungkook your plans with jihyo and that you’ll be back later. you grab the keys, shut and lock the door, and soon you’re off to the elementary school.

seol excitedly runs to his teacher to give her a hug. you press a kiss to the toddler’s cheek and remind him to behave before leaving him in the care of his kindergarten teacher. next stop, the yarn club and a reunion you never saw coming.

~🫧

You’re upset with him and he has to make it up to you, he doesn’t like it when you get upset with him it really disturbs him.

So once you’re gone to your friendly date with jihyo, Jungkook decides to think about doing something special for you, but after he’s done with the conference.

He works for like five hours you’re still not home, after he’s done with work it’s almost time for him to pick up Seol, so he goes out to the school.

After a few minutes of driving, Jungkook picks up Seol and meets with eunwoo at the school too since he was there to pick up his daughter.

Jungkook is seriously so tense, so he decides to talk to eunwoo about what happened with you two last night.

Jungkook is breathing hard- as he tells his best friend about everything that went down with you two last night.

“Did I overreact? She’s hurt… I told her today to take up the offer but she refused, I don’t know what to do! I want to actually kill every single one of those bastards! They offered her the job on purpose so she can become their puppet.” Jungkook knows that Nara has something to do with it-

As he’s busy talking to eunwoo, while the children play with each other, Jungkook can’t help but notice a strange man looking in their direction.

He seems tall with a beanie on his head, “who the fuck keeps staring at us?” Eunwoo looks back and sees the man too.

“Who is he? I’ve no idea.”

Jungkook groans, growing annoyed by the second, “stay with the children I’ll go confront the creep.” Eunwoo tries to stop him but jungkook doesn’t listen.

He’s already super annoyed.

“Hey you!” Jungkook calls out in an angry tone, stalking close to the man who’s started to walk away but jungkook catches up to him quickly.

“What the fuck man? Why do you keep staring at me huh?” Jungkook glares.

[anonymous-eggy]

Nicky with an Mc who crochets!

I couldn't stop thinking about this while I was working on my big blanket that im crocheting... so i hope yall enjoy! it's shorter than past headcanons, but it's smthn!

(remember to check my hc rules before requesting!)

(if requests are closed and you send a request anyway, I'll have to delete it)

he probably finds out when he sees you staring longingly at some crochet hooks or yarn.

maybe you're touching the yarn, and looking at it the way only someone who works yarn would look at it.

He'd ask you what was up and you'd sheepishly turn to him and explain that one of your favorite pastimes back where you came from was crocheting and that you'd admittedly began to miss it

cue Nicky's "spoil you and make you the happiest person ever" switch being flipped.

Nicky doesn't know anything about crocheting but by god you are gonna get an entire crochet kit even better than the one you had back home.

the only thing he isnt gonna mess with until he learns more about you and your crocheting is the yarn.

this man had tried to go shopping for yarn personally to surprise you and was flabbergasted at how many types there were.

so he ended up grabbing some yarn that was soft and would make a good blanket just to be safe.

once he learns what types of yarn you tend to go for and what colors, you can bet you're gonna have more than a lifetime supply of yarn.

he is so impressed with how you're able to weave the yarn together with such ease and create something so beautiful out of a few balls of yarn.

need a new pattern to try out? he will search for a book for you or find someone who can help you with that.

he probably knows a guy who knows another guy who knows who can help

im just gonna say this now. crochet him something. crochet him a scarf and he will wear it all winter long. crochet him a blanket and he will insist on using it to cuddle on the couch

or if you make a cool tapestry out of granny squares. it's gettin hung up somewhere, he'll find a place for it

he was never one for anything but the classic fancy suits, plain scarfs, classic fancy house decor… but smthn about the things you create makes him lose interest in his usual taste.

plain scarves are replaced with the softest crocheted scarf that has beautiful designs. the couch now has a colorful blanket draped over the back. a once bare wall now has a beautiful tapestry.

"my love, you truly bring color and warmth into my life. color and warmth i never coulda imagined having"

i bet he'd show it off too. you know those tiktoks where its a bunch of men looking at what one of the mens partner packed him for lunch? thats Nicky with Chris and his other closer friends.

oh yeah now Chris wants a cool scarf too. and a blanket. no pressure though. but he's certainly willing to pay.

just imagine a nice cozy night by the fireplace, you leaning back against him, crocheting a cozy blanket while he reads a book.

Eventually when he's tired and/or done reading, he'd wrap his arms around your waist, taking care not to mess you up, and rest his head on your shoulder. He'd press a tender kiss to your neck, and make a comment about how gorgeous you look when you're so focused.

after you two have been married for a while, i could see that becoming almost a nightly ritual for you guys. just enjoying each others presence and being comfortable and in love <3333

if you're anything like me and kinda use it as a form of meditation or a way to sit still, it certainly will become a nightly ritual.

if he catches you crocheting too much and making your hands all sore, he's gonna make you set that hook down so he can massage them and take care of your precious hands (and get attention and affection from you, but he wont admit that unless you call him out first)

this is all i could think of for now! hopefully I'll get the motivation to start working on hc requests soon!

[shinigxmi-muses]

💗 - How long does it take your muse to fall in love? - for any muse of your choice!

Let's Talk Romance!

Melita is almost girlish with her love. It grows quick, dies slow; she's truly a romantic at heart, and struggles to find any darkness within her view of the emotion. (A precious oddity, given her age, wisdom, and general bitterness to the people who're around her. However, the in the case of the latter...they've well-earned her ire.)

It's why her love for Avnas wavers not; has never doubted a moment. He- and her children- are everything to her. Her love for them all persists as strongly as her spirit.

For Rena, however... Stars, if only the feeling was so simple! After a failed engagement (in which they happened to catch him in the act; cutting contact cold with everyone in their past) their own emotions are a tangled yarn they refuse to untangle.

Their heart will always fall faster than their mind. Easily prone to getting flutters to confident smirks or too-simple kindnesses that have Rena mentally kicking their own ass for being so....easy!!!

It would talk a long while- plus a conversation- before anything happened between them and a crush.

With Harley... Good luck. She's prone to falling in lust before falling in love, as she carefully manages her life and relationships to be optimal for herself. Joker was out of her control; Ivy replicated his power and dominance, both which she tends to fawn over.

When it comes to falling in love... It's a waiting game. Either keep up with her chaos, overpower it...or bring her back down to earth, to a safer, kinder world. One has to deal with her bratty attitude, attempts to [emotionally] harm, and other such lashing out-styled behaviors before it starts to sink into her head that...hey, this person might just...mean a lot to her?

Harl's prone to fits of jealousy, perceived slights, and continued criminal behavior...but to her credit, her desperate need for a codependent situation overrules all else. Hurting her beloved in any way tends to stop the worst of her behavior...unless you enabled her chaos, in which she tries to fawn with chaotic shenanigans for you two to get up to, so everyone's happy again.

[swimmingwolf59]

12 Days of Spones - Scarf

I also wrote this using a prompt given to me for my 100th fic on ao3 celebration, which was “spones + Amanda” (the prompts and the first fic I wrote for the celebration can be found here). Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!

-

“It’s funny,” Amanda says. “You’ve been my son for forty years now, and in all that time, I never realized you knew how to knit.”

McCoy looks up from his yarn. Ever since he and Spock moved to Vulcan thirty-five years ago, they’ve tried to visit Sarek and Amanda once a week. It isn’t always possible, since Spock and Sarek are often away on diplomatic missions and McCoy and Amanda attend various off-world conferences themselves, but it’s pleasant when it does work out. McCoy especially has grown incredibly fond of both of Spock’s parents and enjoys spending time with them. Lately, he’s been trying his best to make sure he can come visit, as he’s slightly concerned that it may not last for too much longer. Amanda’s health is starting to fail, at her ripe age of 130, but she’s strong and steady today, her movements precise as she works on a pair of fingerless gloves for her son.

McCoy is making Spock a scarf. Spock’s birthday is today, and though he always insists he doesn’t need anything, McCoy and Amanda both endeavor to shower him with gifts. This year, McCoy had suggested that they make warm clothes for him, since Spock gets cold easily on non-desert planets now that he’s 100 years old. They had decided to do it secretly, while Spock was gone, which meant slow progress over the last few months. This weekend, however, Spock and Sarek have both gone to the planet Tamod on Federation business, so McCoy and Amanda are using the opportunity to finish their work.

“My father taught me,” McCoy says, smiling softly. The memory of his father still stings, even now, but it’s much easier for his fondness to overtake his grief nowadays. “He always said it was an important skill to have.”

“He was a wise man,” Amanda says, a teasing glint in her eye. “And you were a patient pupil. I’ve tried to teach Sarek and all three of my children how to knit, but none of them would have anything to do with it.”

McCoy chuckles. “Spock says he finds it…distracting.”

Amanda laughs. “Sarek said the same thing! And Michael just thought it was a waste of time. Sybok was interested, but he wasn’t very good at it and gave up rather quickly.”

“I wasn’t very good at it either, when I first started.” McCoy smiles sadly. “But I’ll tell you, the first time I made a hat for my dad and he wore it…I almost felt prouder then than I did when I performed my first successful operation.”

“I understand the feeling,” Amanda says, and then grins sharply. “I made Sarek sehlat-themed earmuffs.”

McCoy sets the scarf down, also grinning. “No. Really?”

“Really.” Her eyes glint. “He wore them, too!”

Spock and Sarek come home that evening to McCoy and Amanda giggling over the holophoto album. Amanda quickly stores it away before either of them can catch a glimpse of it, and McCoy uses the opportunity to snap a new holophoto of Spock and Sarek standing next to each other in the living room with their eyebrows raised.

“I’m gonna put this one on next year’s holiday card,” McCoy says, grinning.

Amanda peers over his shoulder and chuckles. “Please do!”

“We should not leave the two of them alone,” Spock says to Sarek, who nods solemnly.

“Indeed not. We should know better by now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you did, because otherwise we couldn’t have finished these,” McCoy says, bringing over the scarf he’d made. He’d wanted to add some color to Spock’s wardrobe, so he’d used as many colors as he could that wouldn’t clash. He’d knitted rows and rows of greens, blues, blacks, yellows, pinks, oranges, and white, wanting to use Spock’s preferred palette while also adding in some colors from the desert outside their Vulcan home. He wraps the scarf around Spock’s neck, pleased that it fits snugly. Resting his hands against Spock’s chest, he leans in to kiss him. “Happy birthday, darlin’.”

“Happy birthday, Spock,” Amanda says, smiling softly as McCoy steps back so she can hand Spock the gloves. Spock takes them, touching them and the scarf almost reverently before checking himself and suppressing the emotion.

“Leonard, Mother, I told you you did not need to—” Spock says, almost flustered, but then he freezes as Sarek hands him a small box.

“I saw it on Tamod,” Sarek says softly. “I thought it would suit you.”

Spock stares at him, and then at the box, utterly speechless. He opens it to reveal an eyeshadow palette. It contains Spock’s usual blues and purples, as well as some other related colors, but what really stands out about it is the way each color sparkles when it catches the light. It makes each color look like a tiny galaxy, and it fits perfectly with Spock’s usual aesthetic.

Something in Spock’s expression softens as he closes the box. “Thank you, Father. Everyone.”

McCoy smiles. Things are still somewhat strained between Spock and his father, but they are improving.

Gifts given, Sarek and Amanda move to the kitchen to prepare dinner while McCoy and Spock settle on the living room couch. When McCoy and Spock had first gotten married, McCoy had always felt like he needed to hover around the kitchen at Amanda and Sarek’s house, offering his help in preparing the meals. After a while, though, he started to realize that it was something Sarek and Amanda cherished doing together, so he stopped trying to butt in.

Now, he’s more than happy to cuddle on the couch with his husband and his new scarf while Sarek and Amanda cook.

McCoy smiles as he reaches over to rub his knuckles against Spock’s cheek. “It suits you.”

“Thank you, Leonard.” Spock nuzzles into his hand. He probably would’ve kissed McCoy’s fingers if his parents weren’t in the next room. “Though I regret I was not able to watch you knit it.”

McCoy laughs. “I thought you said it was distracting!”

Spock’s eyes gleam with mirth. “Which is precisely why I wanted to watch.”

“Why, Mister Spock.” McCoy grins and leans in to kiss him, drawing his hand back against the scarf and up into Spock’s hair. Spock probes at his free hand, kissing him the Vulcan way as well. When they pull back for air, McCoy continues jovially, “I had no idea you were into that kind of thing.”

Spock’s eyebrow notches up. “And I had no idea you were so unobservant, Leonard.”

“Asshole,” McCoy mutters fondly, settling in against Spock’s chest. Spock wraps his arms around him, resting his chin against the top of McCoy’s head. McCoy puts his hand on Spock’s thigh and whispers, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“As am I.” Spock noses at McCoy’s hair. “The conference missed you greatly.”

McCoy snorts loudly. “I’m sure they did! They could actually hear themselves think for once, instead of my loudly stated opinions.”

“I would’ve much rather heard your thoughts than theirs,” Spock says, his voice soft.

“That’s because you’re the only person in the universe who enjoys arguing with me, Spock,” McCoy says, chuckling. He tilts his head back to kiss Spock again, who eagerly returns it.

Amanda peeks her head around the wall, catching them in the act, and smiles. “Are you ready for dinner, or should we keep it warm for you?”

“What a tempting offer,” McCoy says, grinning, but Spock is already moving out from under him. McCoy flops back on the couch, flailing for a moment from the sudden lack of support, and then exclaims, “I can’t believe my own husband has betrayed me like this!”

Spock very nearly rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he holds his hand out to McCoy. “Dinner first, Leonard. Then perhaps we can explore that other option later.”

McCoy smiles, reaching out to take his husband’s hand. He squeezes it as he lets Spock pull him towards the dinner table and their family.

-

Companion piece

[husbandohunter]

A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

=======================

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

[alphabetbill]

Bill Skarsgard Alphabet- Your relationship with Bill

Here’s a list from A-Z about what your relationship with Bill would be like.

A list of headcannons of what Bill x reader’s relationship.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Note- If one of the letters is flagged with an asterixis * it means it is slightly suggestive or NSFW. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A- Affection

Bill is actually quite affectionate with you, always preferring to have one arm around you shoulders when sitting on the couch together, holding your hand, quick kisses on the head, cheek and shoulder. Warm hugs from behind, with Bill resting his chin on your head. He likes to reassure himself by being in the comfort of your company, and it always feels so strange when he’s away from you filming on set. He likes to cuddle a lot when he wants to relax and unwind, because Bill is a pretty busy dude so whenever he can get the chance to sit back and rest with you, it’s usually on the bed taking a quick power nap before it’s back to it again.

B- Buying gifts

Bill isn’t really big on receiving big fancy gifts, because really, what would he need them for? You are the same. He does make sure to stop at each place on his press tours and pick out a souvenir to bring home to you. He also likes bringing home little props or souvenirs from set. You still have the little Pennywise teddy he got you sitting over on your desk. The little red pom-pom nose and the orange yarn fluffy hair is so adorable. 

C- Comfort

When you are feeling down or sad, Bill can nearly always pick up on it straight away. He has a way with reading people’s emotions and then employing the method of comfort that would best suit the situation. If you want to talk, he will listen, and if you want to be left alone, he will do that, but not for too long.

He’ll check up on you every so often through the day just to make sure you’re okay. Bill’s warm, gigantic hugs and reassuring kisses always manage to make you feel a bit better. When it’s Bill whose feeling off, you let him talk. Bill isn’t the kind of guy to be able to keep things bottled up for a long period of time because it tends to make him feel tired and weighed down, and that’s not a fun time for either of you. You always listen to him when he vents everything he’s feeling, usually with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair or his hands.

D- Date 

Bill would be a chill, relaxing type of guy when it comes to dates. He knows that you don’t want to be doing something big and exciting every single time, that would be tiring. He loves taking you out for dinner, but he loves making dinner for you and setting up a romantic little dinner date out on the porch or terrace, and surprising you. Often, dates between you two will be completely out of the blue. ‘Hey, want to go somewhere?’ ‘Hey lets go for a picnic by the beach’.

On the days when you guys do feel like doing something more adventurous, the zoo tends to be the fan favourite, and you also like to go skiing, and hiking to see new places and things.

E- Encouragement/Excitement 

You are both very supportive of each other and your professions, so much so that as soon as the other person catches a whiff of success, you are there to celebrate with each other by any means. You and Bill like to hype each other up and get all excited when the other person gets excited, almost as if your happiness is conjoined. You are always excited for Bill’s new projects, and support him through it all the way up until it’s completed and ready for the world to see. 

F- Fighting

Bill likes to avoid conflict, especially if it involves any kind of yelling and screaming at you, someone he loves. He doesn’t believe that yelling helps at all, infact it only makes matters worse, and instead of actually getting the other person to listen to them, it only makes them more mad and they keep on yelling when no one is actually listening. He doesn’t like yelling at you because it feels almost violent, and he doesn’t want to scare you into listening to him. He’s aware of how intimidating he looks when he’s mad. He encourages the both of you to instead sit down and talk about things maturely, talking about how he feels and why he feels that way, and always attentively listening to what you have to say as well. It’s important in the relationship that you have a sense of equality, that both go heard and your opinions both valued. From then on, depending on the severity of the argument, you move on to figure out the best solution to moving past it or around it. 

G- Gestures

Bill is big on friendly, helpful little gestures to remind you that he loves you. You both like to leave little notes in places for each other to find, with quotes or reassurances written on them like ‘You can do this!’ ‘I love you!’ ‘You look amazing today’. It gives you guys a little confidence boost, because sometimes you both need it. In terms of physical gestures, Bill likes to hold your hand a lot of the time when you walk, almost as if you might wander off and get lost if he lets go. He also likes to buy you flowers. If he sees a bunch of flowers in the shop window from the corner of his eye, and he instantly thinks of you, he will buy them for you. You aren’t really sure what use you would have for flowers, but you absolutely admire the sweet gesture.

H- How you sleep

It’s no secret that Bill is a very tall and lanky person. Because of this, sometimes its hard for him to find just the right position to sleep it, however he has learned to adjust and adapt to any position or place to make it feel comfortable. He lays on his back a lot of the time and pulls you close to him, either tucked up beside him with your arm across his torso, or with your head on his chest or heart while he plays with your hair.

You both talk for hours, and will stay up until you fall asleep mid conversation. It’s funny when Bill will be talking, and he goes to ask you a question, and he finds you fast asleep beside him. ‘Seriously? Did you just fall asleep on me? Were you listening to any of that?”

I- Impression

When Bill was first introduced to you, he thought you were so gorgeous and beautiful, with that amazing smile and beautiful eyes. He is a bit nervous at the best of times, but you made him particularly nervous. He always was conscious over the way he spoke to you and how he appealed to you. He’s had a giant crush on you since the day he met you, and knew instantly that if he didn’t do something to make you his, he would never be the same.

Your impression of him was similar. You could not believe such a handsome guy was standing right there talking to you! He made you feel a bit self-conscious, and you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence in your mind without feeling overwhelmingly flushed by him standing next to you, or ‘accidentally’ brushing up against you.

J- Jokes

Are you and Bill a playful or more serious couple?

You two are able to maintain a healthy balance of both playful and serious. You like to tease each other a lot, particularly about the height difference, and Bill’s unholy inhuman tallness. You always joke to him about how secretly Bill must have been born in a zoo to a giraffe and then dropped in Sweden by accident. 

You both know when to be serious though, and understand that not everything can be all fun and games. If someone isn’t feeling great, you can learn to adjust and turn the jokes down to make sure they are okay.

K- Kids

Bill would absolutely love to have kids with you, ideally two, not anywhere near as many as how many his parents had. He wants to be able to spread his fatherly love between children and make time for them both equally, and adore them as much as he adores you. 

L- Love 

What does Bill love the most about you? 

Physically, Bill is in love with two things- your smile and your hair. Both of these things are the two things that he thinks are flawlessly, effortlessly perfect every single time he sees you, even if you wake up in the morning with a serious case of bedhead. But Bill loves everything about you, most of all how supportive you are, and how you are always there for him even if you don’t have to be.

M- Memory/moment

Your favourite memory of you and Bill together is how it felt when he kissed you for the first time. You remember all the tingling feelings, and how excited and nervous you were, but happy that this was finally happening. 

Bill’s favourite memory is when you said yes to going out with him for the first time. He felt so accomplished and happy with himself, like if he could get the girl, he could do anything. He remembers feeling surprised that you said yes, and how scared he was that you would turn him down and tell him you weren’t interested in him in that way. 

*N- Nudes

Usually, if you do send them, it’s when Bill is away in Toronto filming a movie and he’s missing you. You both tend to flirt over text more than you do in real life.

O- Optimist level

You and Bill are both optimistic and realistic. You can see both the good side of things and the bad.

P- Period

When you are on your period, Bill knows instantly that it’s gonna be a pretty crappy time for you, so he tries to make it as least crappy as possible. He has a basket of chocolate reserved just for you on the days when it’s bad, and stays home with you all day cuddling and watching movies. If you are in a significant amount of pain, he will do most practical things for you like house work. He’s very sweet and caring for you, running to the store to get products and shamelessly carrying them. Anything for you, he’s not embarrassed, he knows that it’s a normal thing and it should be normalized for boyfriends to buy their girlfriends products. 

Q- Quality Time- how do you spend it?

You and Bill spend all the time you can possibly get with each other. All the time is quality time with you guys, and Bill makes time to set aside his work or script reading to spend time with you. He’s away for long periods of time, so he wants to make sure that he can spend enough time with you to make up for that, and make sure that you know he loves you.

R- Romantic- how much of a romantic are they?

Oh. Bill is romantic. He especially likes to wine and dine with you, making the whole setting perfect just for you. He manages to make everything romantic, everything he does, and you aren’t sure if he’s doing it on purpose or whether that’s just him as a person.

*S- Sex

You and Bill do it often, but its not seen as something at the top of importance between you. You prefer to spend time talking together and just enjoying each other’s company, rather than getting all physical. That kind of intimacy is done in the bedroom every couple of days or so, or really whenever you feel the need to. It’s important to also note that Bill is very respectful about it, and always makes sure that whatever he does you are comfortable with.

Anywhere outside the privacy of the bedroom for him always feels so awkward, and he likes both of you to be comfortable.

T- Trust

You trust Bill with your life, and he trusts you too. You feel safe opening up to him and telling him things that you normally wouldn’t tell people. You know that he would never cheat on you, and don’t get easily jealous by girls that he kisses or fake hooks up with in movies. You know that this is all staged and it is a part of acting, and always makes sure that Bill knows that it’s okay.

U- Understand

You and Bill understand each other very well. There are of course some things that you don’t get about each other, like why you like certain foods that do not go together, why you believe something, things like that. You think alike in terms of the way you look at life, and how you see the world. You feel like you guys just get each other, y’know?

V- Vulnerability 

Bill is very open with you about how he feels, and you are to him as well. If he’s sad or upset he will tell you and talk about it. He isn’t afraid that crying will make him seem less of a man, and also doesn’t judge you when you cry around him. Bill is a sap and definitely cries in sad scenes of movies. 

W- Wedding- What would your ideal wedding be?

Bill would want it to be fantastic and memorable, as I’m sure everyone would. His family and friends would be there and so would yours. It would be an outdoors wedding beneath the sunshine- provided it doesn’t rain. You would most likely go on a honeymoon to somewhere you have both always wanted to go, and it would be an amazing, relaxing get away.

*X- X-rated

Does Bill have any kinks? 

Most likely no, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t down to try new things with you.

Y- Young and beautiful- how long will you guys last?

As far as Bill is concerned, you will have children, grandchildren, and get old together. You are gorgeous now, and you will always be gorgeous to him. He is big on committing to you, and you are to him. 

Z- Zing!

How much excitement is there in your relationship? 

You guys are always adapting and adjusting to Bill being away and all kinds of things that life might throw at you. It’s pretty exciting dating an actor, isn’t it?

The thrill of secrecy and not getting caught. You often like to make bets on who will be noticed in a crowd first, you or him?

Life is just full of wonders and mystery, and you can’t wait to explore more of those together!

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Note- I am aware that Skarsgard is supposed to be written with an accent on the last A, but I write these lists on my laptop and the keyboard does not have an option for that. 

Thank you for reading! It took me a little while to put this A-Z list together and I would appreciate if you left a like, a comment or whatever you can to help me out. 

Want to request a Bill Skarsgard A-Z list? With your own prompt, and your desired character?

Just click here and you will be taken to the explanation page.

[mrs-bartowski]

Brace for impact y'all cuz my brain is being Extra Rude this fine Sunday. OKAY, so...

What with Lena's new unemployment status, obviously we have all these hcs about her being unable to afford the penthouse and moving in with Kara.

Then of course we have all the accompanying hcs about Lena's time in the apartment between now and when Kara gets back (blanket sniffing, inability to sleep in Kara's bed, ready-to-pack corner of belongings so as to not alter Kara's home, and all those other super fun things that make me wanna cry).

I see all of those (and love them) and I raise you one: the Mxy tapes.

So, we see right after Mxy leaves when Kara picks up "The One Where Lena Decided To Work With Lex" which is what, in combination with her realization that telling Lena the truth always has "huge" consequences, motivates her to make that super OOC decision to absolve herself entirely of her guilt and tell Lena she'll treat her like a villain if she works with Lex, yes?

Now, what if that wasn't the only tape Mxy left behind? What if he left a recording of each of those alternate timelines because, after seeing Kara twist what she learned to fit her frustration over Lena's continued cold shoulder and hearing what she said to Lena, Mxy decided she might want to watch them again at some point to remember the real takeaway: she's fighting for the relationship that saves the world...

Kara found the tapes stacked on the coffee table when she got home, with a note that said "You found the magic. Now don't lose it." She wanted to get angry, but instead she just put the tapes in a box on the shelf under the TV and tried to forget about them.

----------

Lena's hand shakes slightly as she slides the key into the lock, feeling the ghost of Alex’s hand rest gently on her shoulder as it had when she’d pressed the cold metal into her palm a few hours earlier with a silent offer and an encouraging nod. The door swings open slowly, and Lena is hit by a sudden wave of cold. Not temperature, but energy. It’s too quiet - no NSYNC on the speaker or Bachelorette on the TV. It’s too empty - no smell of fresh (slightly burnt) bread or yarn strewn all over the counter from Kara’s various crochet projects. It’s too...Kara-less.

Lena shakes off the feeling and slides her bag off her shoulder in the corner by the bookcase, careful not to knock Kara’s favorite cinnamon candle off the stool beside her, as she tells Alexa to play Nina Simone. She zips open her bag to pull out her favorite copy of Mrs. Dalloway and finds it missing. Realizing she must have left it in her desk drawer at LexCorp, Lena makes a mental note to send Brainy in after it tomorrow with the promise that he can change all of Lex’s passwords one more time before they leave the game for good.

Lena stares at the blank TV screen for a moment, dreading the thought of watching anything in this room without Kara’s head on her shoulder or in her lap. So, she crouches to look at the shelves of the TV stand, hoping to find at least one of the books she’d gotten Kara for her birthday last year wedged between the latest issues of CatCo Magazine and the recipe books Alex had gotten her in the hopes of spending less money on pot stickers every week.

She’s just zeroed in on The Color Purple when she notices a box she doesn’t recognize laying across the tops of the books on the other shelf. She reaches for it on instinct, then hesitates. She hasn’t touched anything of Kara’s since their falling out, and what if Kara’s “what’s mine is yours” rule no longer applies to her now? She considers leaving it alone and waiting for Kara to get back and explain, sliding The Color Purple toward her without taking her eyes off the box, before her curiosity gets the better of her and she caves, tossing the book onto the coffee table.

She opens the lid and starts at the sight of VHS tapes. Hasn't she taught Kara better than this? They'd converted all her old tapes to DVDs months into their friendship ("Kara, these things deteriorate so easily and the picture quality becomes awful, don't you want something that will last?"). She picks up the first tape and reads the label on the side: "The One Where Lena Doesn't Make It Back In Time." Her brows furrow as she stares, unblinking, at the title - demanding answers she knows only one person can give her.

She glances around, but doesn't see a VHS player anywhere, so she sets the tape on the floor beside her and picks up the next one. "The One Where Lena Can't Save Sam Or Herself." Lena shoves down her growing horror and discards the tape, hoping the next one will be less ominous. She picks it up and chokes back a sob as she reads: "The One Where There Are No Survivors."

Lena can't wait for answers anymore, so she gathers the tapes back into the box, grabs her purse and Kara's key, and heads to the closest library. Lena finds the old CRT sitting on a rolling cart in the back corner of the library, tucked between the stacks of kids' books. She pulls the first tape out of the box and slides it carefully into the slot.

30 minutes later, with tears and too-cheap eyeliner streaming down her face, Lena picks up the last tape. "The One Where Lena Was Never Your Friend." And here she'd thought things couldn't get worse. Lena takes a deep breath as she inserts the tape.

At the sight of the ruin that meets Kara and Mxy, Lena stifles the urge to laugh. Of course this is what a world without her best friend looks like. This exactly how it feels now, and she's only been gone a few weeks.

Lena's breath catches as she hears herself ask "who's Kara?," the mere thought of a world where the reporter had never believed in her, never cared enough to love her, almost too much to bear. Her hand drifts absent-mindedly to her chest as she watches herself reveal a kryptonite heart, and for a moment she can hear the sounds of her own screams as her mother's experiments rob her of the last of her humanity.

She presses her hand closer to her heart, sure that it's stopped beating at the sight of Kara on the ground, in pain at her hands but still refusing to fight her. Feels it shatter when her worst self says exactly the same words she'd said to Kara in the Fortress when asked why she had pretended to be Kara's friend for so long.

And she thinks it might kill her, this agony that's filling her body like acid. She wonders for a moment if this is what kryptonite feels like to Kara. Because it sure feels like her skin is getting seared off her bones and there are nails in her blood and it sure seems like she won't survive watching herself kill her best friend as she lies helpless and desperate on the floor.

And when Mxy pulls them out, Lena's breath returns full force until she's hyperventilating because Kara is gone and she doesn't know how long it will be until they get her back; and she was terrified of what she'd become when she lost Jack but she survived because of Kara; and if this is what losing Kara without ever having her in the first place looks like, Lena has never been more afraid than she is as she realizes what will happen to the world if she doesn't get Kara back. What she'll do to the world if it dares to take Kara from her.

So, when she gathers the tapes and goes to return them to the box and finds a note at the bottom that says "You found the magic. Now don't lose it," Lena promises herself that, for as long as she lives, she will do everything in her power to keep the magic that is Kara Danvers in her life.

----------

Alex knocks on the apartment door three days later and finds it unlocked. She pushes the door open and her hand drifts to her gun, but relaxes as she sees Lena's sleeping form curled up on the couch. Alex approaches a box she knows the contents of all too well and finds it open and empty on the table before she notices the VCR player and tapes strewn across the floor. She smiles softly as she recalls the image of Kara in the exact same position months earlier. And, as she carefully plucks the handwritten note from Lena's clutched fist, she smiles at the knowledge that, once Kara returns, no force in the world will be able to keep them apart again.

UPDATE: Ask and ye shall receive

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[writingfics-passingtime]

Trust

Word Count: ~5000

Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader (romantic)

This fic is based on this prompt from a lovely anon who asked for a story in which the reader is terrified of tickling due to past experiences. Over time, Loki helps them discover it can be fun.

CW: Bad experiences with non-consensual tickling. Some PG-13 touching, overt mentions of sex, swearing

You really didn’t want to be that stereotypical young Agent falling for their coworker; seriously, you’d sworn to yourself you’d never date someone you worked with. Ever. But Loki wasn’t technically a coworker. He did occasionally help out on missions, but he’d sooner put himself back in Odin’s dungeon than call himself an Avenger. Besides, he’d changed. He really had. You hadn’t known him when he was tyrannical and hurting, but you knew him now. At least, you were pretty sure you knew him. Who would know him better than the one person he seemed to seek out for conversation?

Those things, and a laundry list of others depending on the day, were the things you told yourself to justify late night after late night spending time with him, just him, trading stories and drinking steaming mugs of whatever had felt right when sifting through the cupboards.

He had many more stories than you, for obvious reasons, and his stories tended to be much more exciting. He seemed to catch himself and rescind when he felt he’d been talking for too long. He’d ask you something about yourself, your past, then ask you to elaborate. He’d bring you into his stories, create dialogue, even when it was painfully obvious that’s exactly what he was doing.

“… and there was a obscenely large mob of the brutes- you don’t have Draugr on Midgard, do you? Not anymore, anyways.”

You’d smile and think, You’ve studied our realm, Loki. You know we don’t have the undead Draugr here, but you’d say “No. Thank goodness, cause they sound awful. Have you fought many?”

And he’d spin a tale of triumph, disaster, highs and lows, great victories and the humour along the way. There was almost always humour, with Loki. You could tell when a story wouldn’t be involving anything to break the tension based on the way he’d hold himself as he began the yarn, and you’d adjust accordingly into a posture of listening and non-judgement. It felt intimate to be told those tales. In fact, it was the only kind of intimacy you’d really felt with him so far.

You’d heard the tales from Thor’s lips of conquests past, which didn’t really bother you except for the fact that it seemed so easy to them. Not that you’d blame them for seeking out the fun and the feeling-good, but it made you wonder why Loki had never… tried anything with you. Never laid on the charm, never overtly flirted past the teasing comments he’d give anyone.

The more hopeful part of you decided that it must mean your connection was different to his other relationships - using relationship in the broadest sense of the word. The more nervous part of you wondered if perhaps he’d just never waste his time on a mortal. But… no. He’d been with mortals before. Nothing substantial, but certainly for fun. Maybe he didn’t see you as fun. That kind of sucked to think about. Or, maybe he saw you as much more.

It was complicated. In your head, at least.

Late one evening, it all came to a head in perhaps the way you’d have least liked it to come about. You wanted answers, for sure, but not at the cost of your self-esteem.

You were sitting on the couch with him, both of your backs against the high arms on either end of the three-seater. Your knees were bent and your feet rested by his thighs, his own legs crossed and half-off the couch. He was so tall, his legs so long, that they could rest mostly on the couch and still be planted regally on the floor. Your empty tea mugs sat on coasters, which sat on the glass coffee table, having long been drained over and over during your conversation that’d now spanned for nearly three hours. Hardly a course record.

“These late-night conversations are going to make me a bad Agent,” you complained, folding your fingers on your lap with a cheeky smirk. “Are you trying to get the one-up on me, Prince of Asgard?”

“What ever do you mean?” He half-grinned, cocking his head with a curious glance.

“Getting me all sleep-deprived before training tomorrow,” you challenged teasingly. “I know we’re scheduled to spar. Are you trying to dull my senses?”

“Are you calling me dull?”

“Are you admitting your intentions?”

“Darling, I’d hardly need to dull your senses to get you right where I want you,” he chuckled and squeezed at your foot, causing you to sniffle and flinch it away. His gaze snapped up to meet yours, a dark and mischievous smile creeping over his features. “Oh?” He smirked, cocking his head the other way, reaching over and once again flitting his fingers against your socked foot.

“H-hey,” you giggled nervously, pulling your foot into yourself. But Loki was too fast for you, snatching your ankle and pulling it towards him, around him, pulling you flat on your back on the couch as he made quick work of partially pinning you with his body.

“Ticklish, are we?”

He had no way of knowing.

“Loki, wait.”

It really wasn’t his fault. You’d never blame him.

“Oho, this will be fun.”

However, the second those words left his mouth, you felt your stomach twist into a sour sickly knot and your mind was shot back to how your first ever boyfriend loved to tickle you.

Not in a cute way. Not in a nice way. Never for fun.

You didn’t want to watch the movie he wanted to? He locked your ankles in the crook of his elbow and tickled your feet until you agreed, and then kept going until you were coughing and gasping for breath. If you wanted to stay hanging out with your friends but he wanted to go elsewhere, he’d hold you face-down and tickle your ribs in front of them as he taunted you for being a ‘little ticklish baby.’ One time you dared to giggle at his reaction when his sports team lost and he turned to you with darkened eyes, smirked, and told you he’d give you something to laugh about. That‘s probably the night most etched into your memory, considering how long it went on for. When he left, you knew you had to break up with him. It hadn’t mattered how many times you asked him to stop. He didn’t stop until he wanted to, long after your overwhelmed tears had begun flowing. If the word “stop” didn’t mean anything to him, you couldn’t trust him.

You’d only casually dated one or two people since and it wasn’t something you’d had to talk about with them, because it hadn’t really come up. You’d had your sides playfully squeezed or some fingers flit along the bottoms of your feet, but not since that first boyfriend had you been in this position: rendered immobile with the very overt threat of someone about to exploit how ticklish you were.

Your stomach kept twisting as you watched Loki’s features morph into a devious playfulness, and it felt like your burning heart was in your throat. Opening and closing your mouth, you struggled to find the words.

‘Stop’ hadn’t worked in the past. What if it didn’t work again? Loki was exponentially stronger than your ex-boyfriend and he was the God of Mischief for crying out loud. How much more merciless could he be?

As Loki brought a single hand down to experimentally dig his fingers into your side, the pure reactionary side of your brain made the decision for you.

The second his fingers touched down, you let out a loud whimper and hot tears sprang to your eyes. “Loki, STOP!” You all but screamed. He flinched hard, his eyebrows knitting together. His hand froze, but was on your side. You looked at it and your breathing got quicker, lighter, you sniffed and winced, bucking your hips underneath him. “Get off me, get OFF!” You started panicking and Loki immediately whipped his hand away with a look of concern, holding his hands up in surrender to show you they weren’t anywhere near you as he carefully stepped off your struggling body. “Get ohoff me,” you cried. Feeling humiliation wash over you, you felt the stinging of tears and saw how they began to blur your vision.

“I’m off, I’m off,” Loki said in a soothing voice. “I won’t touch you.”

Your hands whipped up to cover your burning face, feeling so indescribably embarrassed at your reaction. But you couldn’t help it. You sniffed, wiping your tears as fast as you could, but knowing your trembling lower lip would bring more over the edge eventually. You sighed, using all the power in you to not cry any further. Right now, at least. “I‘m sorry, I just-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Loki comforted with a hint of sadness in his voice, standing up straight and politely. “I understand it can be repulsive, to have someone like me touching you. I apologise. I’ll leave.”

“Wait, please,” you sat up and grabbed his hand before he could take too many steps. He seemed surprised by it, but then his gaze met your glassy eyes and he softened. “It’s not you,” you assured, maybe a little to urgently. “Please. It’s not you.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t go.”

Loki slowly, hesitantly, took a seat next to where your knees had slightly bent when you sat up. He perched on the edge of the middle cushion as he looked at your hand in his. “Forgive me… I’m having trouble following,” he gave a tight, nervous smile.

“I um…” You took a deep breath in, then looked off to the side. “It’s embarrassing. Ugh, it’s so embarrassing,” you whined, taking your hand back to hide your face behind all ten of your fingers. He didn’t pry them from your eyes, or pressure you with his words, or threaten to leave. He just sat with you as you worked up the courage to murmur, “I can’t handle being tickled.”

“I… see?”

You removed your hands from your face and fidgeted them in your lap. “I-I understand the playful appeal, I really do, but it‘s only ever been used against me. My ex, he- he‘d use it to make me do something, or… to embarrass me,” you mumbled.

Loki nodded understandingly, and you could have sworn his jaw clenched when you brought up your ex. “That was not my intention.”

”I know, I know,” you reached a hand out and put it over his. “Loki, I trust you and I really, really like having you close. This wasn’t about you, this was just my brain reacting to what it sees as dangerous situation,” you squeezed his hand before letting it go, waiting with bated breath to see if you’d just royally screwed up any potential connection you’d begun to feel. Surely he’d now be put off the person who screamed at him when he was only trying to be his playful self.

“Rest assured, Agent,” Loki gave a soft and kind smile, this time reaching out to take your hand, “I won’t try that again without your expressed permission.”

You smiled thankfully in return and then laughed nervously, “Thank you, but I don’t know if you’ll be getting my expressed permission any time soon.”

Loki shrugged. “You said you saw the playful appeal,” he pointed out. “Believe you me, who better to help you enjoy such things than the God of Mischief himself?” He winked and you blushed, but you breathed out a laugh nonetheless. He squeezed your hand before gently swiping his thumb over your palm. “Your trust is important to me,” his thumb then brushed over your wrist, leaving soft tingles in its wake. “I suppose I can find other ways to subtly show my affection.”

You held your breath at that, then a shy smile broke onto your cheeks. “You were trying to flirt?” You giggled and gave him an endeared look.

“It did not go as planned,” he grimaced thoughtfully.

You smiled again, “No. But… it didn’t exactly backfire.”

Because, well shit: there was nothing sexier than someone who respected your boundaries.

The affection between you two only grew over the next several weeks, the flaming wings of romance having well and truly risen from the ashes of that disastrous attempt at playfulness.

You two were as inseparable as you could professionally be; never compromising a mission, never missing anything important, still making sure to show up at team gatherings, and, much to Loki’s chagrin, keeping the PDA to a minimum.

People had questions. Of course they did. A young Agent, the newest Avenger, falling head over heels for the demigod who’d nearly laid waste to their home planet less than a decade ago? You were known for your instincts so either everyone got you wrong, or Loki had truly changed. Perhaps you could see what they couldn’t from behind the murky tint of their history. So, they had questions. How it started, how it was going, were you official?

You wouldn’t really call Loki your boyfriend, not to his face anyway, considering it didn’t seem to be a title befitting of a Prince. Or a god. It didn’t capture the whole elegant picture of him. It was insufficient. So was lover, considering he was much more than that. The title would certainly befit his amorosity, but it didn’t catch the depth of the connection you shared. You’d tried to catch snippets of the way Thor would speak of you two, to get some kind of idea of how another Asgardian would describe your togetherness, but nothing ever seemed to meet your eavesdropping ear.

So, for now, you were just together.

Emotionally, mentally, theoretically. Physically, too - right now, in fact, you were nestled into his side watching a movie on the TV in your room. Content, warm, comfortable, his arm was wrapped around your back and holding you close to him with a hand on your waist.

Being a person who loved physical touch, you hardly minded that Loki had a difficult time keeping his hands off you when you were alone. You couldn’t blame him after having to be so restrained, so diplomatic and proper, keeping his hands to himself under the watch of the others. So the second the door closed he was usually onto you, much to your enthusiastic delight. Sometimes kissing you sweetly, sometimes kissing you roughly as he backed you into a wall, sometimes pulling you in to wrap you up in his arms, or throw you over his shoulder and declare you were not leaving the bed until he’d seen you smile. He did that last one on hard days.

Today wasn’t a hard day. So right now his hand had slipped under your shirt and was resting on the bare skin of your side. He’d sometimes shift his hand or run it along your skin with the perfect amount of pressure to not tickle you, and he was always quickly apologetic if he accidentally made you flinch or squeak.

He often trailed and traced patterns into your back, but tonight he began absentmindedly doing so against your stomach. You knew it was innocent, you knew he wasn’t trying anything nefarious, and knowing that took away a large portion of the anxiety you might have felt when a faint tickling sensation began bubbling against the skin right by your belly button. His touch was soft, kind, loving and pure, so you willed yourself to relax and attempt to enjoy it.

To your surprise, the goosebumps that raised on your arm didn’t feel like your skin was crawling from discomfort. The most delicate tickling didn’t make you want to push him away, or cry, or sound alarm bells in your head. The smallest smile tugged at your lips as one of his fingers accidentally slipped over your navel. You giggled and flinched a tiny bit, but it didn’t scare you.

“Sorry, love,” Loki immediately pressed his palm flat against your side again and ducked his head to place a kiss on the side of your head.

“It’s okay,” you traced your own finger over his shirt and bit your lip. “It was nice.”

You felt Loki take a deep breath in and out, perhaps trying to figure out if he should say anything. “Would you like me to continue?” He asked, so casually, like he was asking if you’d like a cup of tea. You nodded softly and saw him smile from the corner of your eye. “One word and I’ll stop,” he assured you. You nodded again, a bit shyer this time, and you bit your tongue as his palm lifted from your side and only his fingertips remained against your skin.

He brought his fingers together and placed them against the skin on the side of your stomach. Then, like a flower in bloom, he let them softly open and spread. It made you shudder, nestle your head more into his shoulder. The pads of his fingertips trailed slowly up and down the outer edges of your belly, sometimes swirling patterns, mostly just taking in the feeling of you, as his fingers blossomed and receded at a steady and predictable pace.

He lifted his touch from you, save for his ring finger which he dragged down to meet the place where your bare skin stopped and the waistband of your pyjama shorts began. Slowly, tenderly, his finger ran along the line until the placement of his arm around you wouldn’t allow his hand to reach any further. When that happened, he was at the lowest part of the very centre of your belly.

As he trailed his finger up the middle of your torso you bit your lip in anticipation of where his touch had pulled a giggle from you just minutes ago, but at the last second he evaded your belly button, swerving his finger to avoid the area, chuckling softly to himself at how you’d been holding your breath without realising. You allowed yourself to smile and relax, letting the breath out as you snuggled further into him.

“Alright, love?” He asked. You could hear the way his lips were curled into a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, then bit the side of your tongue and curled your toes as his finger began its path back downwards.

“One word and I stop, hmm?” He reminded you. You nodded and smiled a bit more as the ticklish sensation became a bit more apparent. You rubbed your feet together and hid your face more into him, but didn’t ask him to stop. You didn’t want him to.

He traipsed over to the side of your belly to draw slow larger patterns against your skin, the sparkling ticklish sensations now a bit more apparent. It was actually tickling, but it felt nice. It wasn’t too much. Small giggles bubbled over your lips intermittently and so you pressed the back of your hand to your mouth. Loki‘s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “My love, half the fun is hearing you laugh.”

“W-what’s thehe other half?” You asked through sniffling giggles, tensing your abdomen as his finger trailed back closer to the centre.

“Knowing it means you are happy,” he said with an evident grin. His other fingers met your skin and you flinched. He immediately retracted his hand.

“N-no, it’s okay,” you assured him. “It feels good,” you admitted as your cheeks burned.

“Does it now?” He chuckled and placed his fingers delicately back on the middle of your stomach, resuming the blooming motion as he’d done before.

You were properly giggling now as his fingers swept and glided over the sensitive skin, and you actually squeaked when one of his fingers finally caught your belly button. Loki laughed as you groaned and buried your hot face deep into his chest. He flattened his hand once again against your skin and applied enough pressure to his fingers to take the tickling sensation away.

“I think enough for today,” he chuckled and turned to be also on his side, facing you and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as his thumb move up to trace the lines beside your smiling lips. “Gods, having you happy and laughing against me, the things it does to me, mmm,” he flattered jokingly with a wink.

“Pfft,” you shoved at his chest a little, which only served to make him seize your wrist and pull you closer to press a tender kiss to your lips. You practically melted into it, feeling his hand release yours to roam your body, to pull you in how he knew made you feel most safe. Most loved.

After that first time, sometimes when you were cuddled up Loki would brush his fingers along your side, or your neck, listening closely to pick any signs of discomfort in your giggles. Something you noticed was he never tried to tickle you when you were in any way trapped in his arms. He loved to playfully tackle you to the bed, or pick you up from behind to whisk you away, or hold you tightly in his arms as he kissed you passionately. But if you were perched straddling his laps with his hold around you, he’d always unwrap his arms before playfully dragging his fingers up your side. If he’d pinned you to the bed to kiss your neck with playful growls, he’d roll off to the side before fluttering his fingers up your collarbones to trace around the sensitive skin on your ears.

The first time he added a bit of pressure to his touch you were reaching up to grab a hoodie from your top shelf, not having much luck even on your tiptoes. He came up behind you, chuckled and lightly dug a single wiggling finger under each of your arms. You squeaked and giggled and clamped your arms down, leaning back into his chest to seek refuge where you felt most safe. He ducked around and kissed your cheek, then your lips, as he reached up and effortlessly grabbed the item of clothing you were seeking.

You playfully glared at him as you pulled the hoodie on, but your blush and the smile you didn’t try to fight told him you’d enjoyed the teasing. Once your hoodie was on, he smirked and gathered you in his arms, running over to your bed before throwing you down and pulling the collar of your hoodie aside to kiss and nip at the skin on your neck. You giggled and some tiny squeals escaped your blushing lips. Loki grinned, through his kisses and playful growls, at your lack of attempt to escape him, even though he left ample room for you roll away if you so pleased.

There had only been two occasions when you asked him to stop. The first was when you’d awoken with his arms around you, you kissed him sweetly on his shoulder and neck until he woke up and returned the favour. When his fingers playfully wiggled against your sides, you suddenly realised nature was calling and you had to go now. You giggled but told him to stop without explanation. He did so without hesitation, and chuckled as you shot out of bed towards the bathroom.

The second time was when you’d returned home from a mission that had kind of knocked you down a peg. You weren’t feeling great. You were tired and sore and didn’t want to talk about what had gone down. Loki had greeted you with open arms, ordered you your favourite dinner and drew you bath laced with a blend of Asgardian oils he’d brought home after one of his covert visits. He worked his fingers into your shoulders and neck as you watched a film together, and when you made some cheeky joke at his expense he scoffed in indignation and playfully squeezed at your sides. It had been a long day and you were feeling fragile, so the ticklish feeling didn’t feel as carefree as it usually did coming from him. You tensed and asked him to please stop, which he did. What’s more, he gave no indication that he was put out, or upset with you for shutting it down. He simply kissed your shoulder before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards to rest against him.

It was then, when you didn’t have to worry he’d sneakily try again, that you finally fully relaxed to the concept. The trust was there, and you knew Loki would never overwhelm you on purpose.

After that night, Loki noticed you becoming more cheeky with him some of the times he poked at your skin. He’d cock his head and asked you to repeat brazen comments, which you would with a smirk, then throw your head back and laugh when he’d scratch at your ribs or slip a hand under your shirt to flutter at your waist.

Then, one night, you dared to get him back. He’d made good-natured joke at your expense when you’d made a wildly incorrect assumption about how his magic worked. He laughed heartily as you swatted his chest indignantly, then got to your knees beside him before digging your ten fingers straight into the centre of his stomach.

“Lihittle scamp!” He laughed and, you noticed, tried very hard to not reach out and push your hands away with his incredible strength. He pressed his head into the pillow and allowed you several seconds of fun before reaching out and clawing at your ribs. Your arms shot back to protect yourself and you fell forward over his torso, giggly laughter pulled from your lips as Loki flitted his fingers all over your sides, ribs and around the few sensitive places on your back he’d discovered. “You’ve got some nerve,” he teased through gritted teeth.

You laughed and squirmed while draped over him and managed to shoot a hand down to scratch behind his knee through his sweatpants, rewarding you with a jolt of his leg and a barked laugh through his lips. It was short lived, since his scratching fingers found their way inside the sensitive space under your arm. “LOHOKI!” You laughed and clamped your arm down as he kept wriggling his tickling fingers for several more seconds, then took his hands away to use them pull you off him to rest nestled against his side. “Ihi didn’t know a god could be ticklish,” you teased with a few more pokes to his ribs.

He snatched up your fingers and playfully nipped at them before placing a tender kiss on each one. “My brave little love,” Loki glowered playfully. You smiled, then thought about all he meant behind his words.

You hadn’t imagined you’d ever be able to have this kind of care-free tussle with another partner after that first boyfriend, as much as you knew you’d enjoy it with the right person. Gods, Loki was so patient with you. Maybe because he had so many years, maybe because he was so put off by the idea of hurting you. Maybe, to him, it was okay if you never wanted that.

You didn’t know for sure if you’d ever get to the point where you’d feel okay bearing the brunt of Loki’s full mischievous ability, like what he meant to exert on you that first day he’d held you down and you’d confessed your fears, but, nevertheless, you felt brave.

Brave enough to slip your fingers up under the hem of Loki’s shirt and flutter at the skin over his hips, relishing in his happy laughter as he took your hand and rolled over on top to pin you down kiss you delirious.

As Loki’s head ducked down, his hands slid down your sides and he took the hem of your shirt between his teeth to pull it higher, you felt no fear as he placed ticklish kisses all over the skin on your stomach. You laced your fingers through his hair as giggles poured out of you, never once wishing for him to stop. Never once asking. When he’d had enough, he pushed himself back up to take your face in his hands and kiss you passionately once again. You grinned into the kiss and playfully swiped your fingers against his neck, to which he made quick work of grabbing your wrists and pinning them beside your head. He chuckled as you fought to free yourself, to keep going on your little tirade, but you kissed him back until you were both a little breathless.

“Nothing in the universes is as precious to me as your trust,” Loki declared as he broke away. “Nothing,” he repeated, eyes shining down earnestly.

You wanted to return the kind words, to say something that matched his sentiment, but nothing seemed sufficient. So, you smiled at him and kissed him again before settling your head back to the bedspread and taking in the blueness of his eyes, cursing yourself for not knowing what to say. Just like trying to figure out that word to describe what you were, no human word could live up to all that he was. All that This was.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind, hmm?” Loki squinted a bit and you took in a deep breath, blushing that he caught you pondering.

“What…” you sighed, biting your lip. “What are you… to me?” You fidgeted a little and he released your wrists with a curious glance, propping himself above you by his elbows and swiping his thumb along your lower lip. “Sorry,” you mumbled, twitching a smile from the tingles left in the wake of his thumbprint. “I’m being silly.”

“Darling, I’m yours. Is it really more complicated than that?”

How he could so casually make your heart burst, you’d never fully understand. Perhaps it was an Asgardian thing. Or just a Loki thing. A grin pulled into your blushing cheeks as you looked up at the strikingly beautiful God of Mischief.

“Mine. I like the sound of that.”

“Mmm, good,” he kissed you again and shifted to lace his fingers though yours, pinning your hands to the bed. “Now, stop tickling me, and let me kiss you ‘til there’s not a breath left in my body.”

You giggled and nodded, to which he grinned and captured your lips once again. He didn’t stop until there was no shadow of a doubt that he was, undeniably, yours.