#at first i was like ‘maybe i could magic loop it until i get all the stitches increased enough’ and then i was like ‘what the fuck. no’

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I found this “sweater recipe” knitting pattern and why is it so stressful. “Cast on a number of stitches that looks like a decent neckline to you” my sister in Christ what do you mean???

[solbaby7]

Holy mother of pearl I need a part 3 of blurred lines like I need air to breathe

as you wish. but this lil blurb is it y’all 🤣

[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ]

Rhysand was being obnoxious.

Unreasonably jealous and filled with a need like no other—almost comparable to the one induced by the powder that still burned in your system—his mouth wouldn’t stop latching to the marks Azriel had sucked into your neck. “Don’t get all quiet on me now,” Rhys huffs out, teeth nipping at your ear from behind.

Water sloshes over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor and the clothes scattered in it but neither of you can find it in you to care. Not when Rhys’ cock felt so deep, fucking into the swollen mess of your pussy like it was the first time all over again. “Azriel’s still here. It’s rude.”

“Don’t,” He’s vicious in his reprimand, guiding you up and down the girthy length of him with ease. Nails bite into already bruised flesh but the relief overrides the temporary discomfort. “—ever say another males name while I’m fucking you.”

A low hum dips in your throat. “Jealousy’s sexy on you, High Lord.” The soft fat of your breasts drag against the rising muscles of his chest, manicured nails raking through strands of silky obsidian. “Worried he did a better job? Lived up to the rumors about those great, big wings of his?”

The hand that splays across the length of your neck is unforgiving when he pulls you in closer, noses touching and breath mingling when a growl grows in his chest. It should spark fear, force your heartbeat to rise but all you feel is the electrifying tingle of anticipation. “Did he?”

“Maybe,” You shrug, feigning nonchalance but you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside you. There’s no friction, just fullness as your arms remain looped over broad shoulders, cool air nipping at wet skin. “Can’t remember—was a little out of it.”

“Is that right?” Rhysand’s eyes glaze over a moment, a dark smirk forming on regal features. Through the drug induced haze, you have half the sense to notice the shift in the air. Gone is the mate willing to offer endless coddling and comforting words crooned into the sensitive spot below your ear. Sweet touches are replaced with the all-consuming power that made Rhys the most dangerous of all the High Lords; dark magic cloaking the bathing chamber in pitch black, cutting off all sense of sight and distorting sound. “Shall I give you a refresher?”

Familiar talons tease at the barrier of your mental walls, itching to sink in and take the reins. Goosebumps swarm your skin despite the warmth of the water lapping at your legs. “Do as you please—take notes if you must.”

Your mates leniency towards your steadily growing snark seems to dwindle with each sentence spoken and he’s less than gentle when breaching the boundaries of your mind, rooting around as if he owned the place. Rhys yanks the offending memory forward, his presence lingering at your back, breath tickling at your neck as you’re forced to watch with him.

Watch you and Azriel—the fucked out glaze in your eye. The moans and hoarse screams for it harder. Deeper. “It surprises me that you could’ve forgotten this,” Rhysand taunts, chuckling to himself at the pliant lean of your body when his hands mimic Azriel’s. Fingers pinch at hardened nipples, copying the cruel pace set until witty remarks fizzled away; all the spark snuffed out by alluring darkness and the delicious drag of Rhysand’s cock inside of you. Your eyes begin to flutter closed when a hand curls around your jaw, face forcefully raised to keep watching. “Pay attention,” The rasp in his tone shoots right between your thighs and it’s impossible to resist wiggling your hips, meeting every thrust until you swore you could feel both of them at the same time. “Don’t look away,” He commands, barely winded. “Or I’ll stop and leave you here to ride this out on your own.”

Thank the Mother he was standing behind you, unable to catch the harsh bite of your lip and the pitiful wobble of your chin. But still, you obeyed. Never tearing your eyes away for even a second as Rhysand fucked into you, hands gripping at your hips and wandering the length of your body before the touches began to lose its synchronicity. “It’s so deep,” The whine is abruptly cut off, a palm pressed against your lips as he manually silences you.

“That’s not what you said to him.” One finger raised from your face to point at the memory, Azriel’s gruff words muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Every nerve burns, muscles screaming with tension as that coil tightened more and more and more in the pit of your belly. “I thought you were worried about Az hearing you, pretty girl?” Your neck cranes as he pulls your back flush to his chest, resting your head on his shoulder but the devastating thrust of his hips don’t stop and the angle threatens to force your eyes closed. “Don’t be fucking rude.”

It’s torture; trying to remain quiet with so much happening. You swear you can feel Azriel’s hands on your body, skipping past Rhys’ own while twin tongues taste at your neck. Your sounds muffle against his palm, water splashing and skin slapping until four hands became too much for one body.

“He didn’t fuck you like this,” The High Lord all but snarls in your ear, two strong fingers rubbing at your clit in firm circles. “Say it.”

“He didn’t—“ You stammer over the words, garbled syllables rumbling against the hand that slides back down to your throat and the memory is shoved away; tucked in a box and lock deep within the corners of your mind. “He didn’t fuck me like this. Not how you do.”

Plush lips kiss at sweat-slick cheeks, tongue claiming at the line of your jaw and teeth sink into the already bruised expanse of your neck. “Now say it like you mean it.”

It’s too much, the teasing and that possessive bite in his grip. “No one does it like you, Rhys.” You’re so close, fingers digging into the edge of the tub, back arching into him as you teetered that line—coil threatening to give at any second. “No one ever will.”

[annaesterella]

Since almost every good fan of Yan-Batfam or something like that is getting into this (and I'm a fan of that kind of thing) LET'S HAVE A NEGLECTED READER

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ☆

But I saw that a lot of people liked the other fic, seriously people, KISSES DIRECTLY FROM ANNA! SERIOUSLY, I FELT LIKE A Celebrity (<⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> ehehe) And this was the first time that a fic of mine gained so many views and I'm very excited, thank you to everyone who liked it!

F/reader (sorry guys, I don't know how to write M/reader)

I'll write a part II, bcuz is too long!

“Don't be silly! I would never be a Wayne.”

Well, first things first, when did it all started again? Haha not 500 time loops ago, but some years ago.. like the first child, you were from a circus, the difference is that.. well? Your parents were magicians, at least your mother... your father until you were 6 or 7 years old was just another distant memory but sweet, not yours, but your mother's... the incredible magic of the circus “Joie nocturne” a beautiful woman, yet another victim of the charms of the heartthrob, philanthropist, billionaire and owner of Wayne companies, Bruce Wayne. Of course, your mother, like almost all women, never forgot him, having him as her beautiful memory, after all, he gave her everything she needed.. you, her lil bunny! That's what she called you, before she was gone, like him, she turned into your distant but sweet memory, like a magic spell..

You felt so alone, the circus wanted to keep you, after all, you were their family too, but even so, he found out about you, and being a child, You wanted to meet your father. Still, feeling the pain of abandoning what you knew, you went. You had your 10 minutes of affection and then never saw him again. You met your two brothers, half brothers, Dick and Jason, and the buttler, Alfred, You thought your life would be like a funny family sitcom, HAHA, WHAT A JOKE. Of course, the oldest was excited to meet you, you were just like him, from a circus! The youngest was curious about the situation, yet he was kind to you and didn't mistreat you. The oldest gentleman, Even with little time, he treated you like your grandfather treated you, you then created an innocent affection for him, after all, he reminded you of your grandfather! After 1 or 2 weeks, they disappeared. Only you and "grandpa" are left.. Just like your mother, you developed an affection for magic... but just those stupid tricks left you bored... even so, it was affectionate to see Alfred pretending not to know about the tricks, just to see you smiling... soon you realized.. you weren't really a Wayne.. at most a visitor. They didn't have time for you, Alfred was still a buttler at the end of the day.

Time passed and you felt more and more alone, of course, you had Alfred, but... he didn't always have time for you. Soon more people appeared... and others disappeared... Jason was the first to go, and even with the short time, you suffered, he was kind... your brother for such a short time, you wished you had played with him more, and after that the house, which was already abandoned, became even emptier, soon another boy appeared, Tim, from a rich family.. and soon Dick went to another city.. you don't remember when, but now there was also Cassandra, Damian, Duke.. Steph.. you remember Barbara from a long time.. Even though the house was full, it was still empty... and you could only comfort yourself with the magic and the things your mother had left for you. Your little stuffed rabbit and its "magic" materials. Even though If you were his biological daughter too, Damian seemed to have more of Wayne than you,maybe because he was a vigilante, maybe because he was a boy? did not you know of course... so why bother? Soon, you stopped trying, you didn't want that anymore... crawling for affection? At your eighteen You made your choice. You wouldn't be a Wayne, you'd be a joie nocturne again. But would they let you? That night, you went to visit the circus, that was your favorite time of year... Halloween, and circus mixed together? Wonderful! So you saw that... the villainy... and for a split second, you wanted to.. do something.. Playing like a good girl, you approached the large bearded man and tugged on his sleeve, asking what that was all about. Maybe this was your chance to be something. It was funny at first, seeing their despair, your second family, trying to explain themselves, but you soon gave a smile, before stamping your foot on the floor, making a crowbar appear, helping to open it. That was the beginning of everything... you were finally someone... even if on the wrong side. Soon, the decisive moment arrived, when you returned "home", packed your bags, and like a magic spell, you disappeared, leaving only a white rabbit and everything you did in that house, in your room, every magic award, every cheap magic materials.

After a Patrol day, Dick he noticed something unusual in the mansion, perhaps because Alfred was visiting his homeland, but it couldn't be that, after all, Alfred had already done that before... Oh right! Birthday girl, his ittle bunny sister. He ran upstairs, knocking on the bedroom door, before entering and seeing only a stuffed rabbit on the bed, and the various magical things around the room, if not for the empty drawers and things, he would say you still lived there by the decoration and the fact room looks good, everything is well maintained, warm

Dick: Bunny?

He called, looking around the room, before looking around, seeing the various magic prizes, photos, top hats and magic kits. All given by Alfred or someone called "Mr. Joie nocturne" Could he be a friend of yours? What do you mean you had participated in so many contests and won? Why didn't you call? Or did you call? Where were you now? Why was everything empty? You went away. He started walking in circles, until Tim entered the room.

Tim: You will make a hole in the ground. I called you several times, why are you in this room exactly?

Dick: Y/N, she is gone.. and we didn't even notice or whatever, we didn't receive any notification, why didn't she notify us that she was moving, we... damn... we weren't going to help probably because we were on patrol, did we waver? Did she know we were on patrol? Does she know the truth?

Tim: Wait, too much to process.. what does it mean "She is gone" she left? Is that it?

Dick: Yes. Dumbass

And well, we can say after that, what happened was like "Oh shit" and then everyone was like "OH SHIT" while you were home.. happy! Getting ready for her first show, her first real show... too true. You thought as you put on your gloves and applied your lipstick. Then, with slow steps, you walked onto the stage, smiling, while waving to everyone, who murmured and whistled. So you decided to do your first trick for the night, the "bullet trick" The difference? There was no trick behind it, just you and your skills... after all, it was in your blood. Just as the bullet was about to go through your skull, you snapped your fingers, and then the bullet turned into a beautiful, bright purple butterfly, flying through the circus, soon coming back towards you and turning into your bow tie. Okay, a bit of a show on your part for the first trick, but you have to show that you have morals. Funny that meanwhile, his family was desperate, going so far as to call Alfred, who was now just as desperate. Then, the special time came, the circus then closed the lights and when it opened, all the valuable belongings, inside the boxes, Of course, you had to feign shock, some clowns trying to calm the audience, and of course, you were also feigning surprise, making your things "disappear" to join in the fun. You looked at the children, snorting slightly, as you made the toys re-appear, seeing some calm down, while the others widened their eyes in surprise. Soon, the "incredible" Bat-family appeared... seriously, for such an idiotic cause they came...? Soon you saw them walking towards you and everything fell into place.

Nightwing: — Y/N! I mean.. Young Lady.. we were notified of your disappearance, we will ask you to return home.

You frowned, as you looked at the audience. Hearing their screams increase, some of relief that the "Bat-family" was there, others of confusion at the situation.

: — I believe, I'm already eighteen, so there's nothing to worry about, Still, I'm with my family at the moment, so I don't understand why the complaint. Not to mention that we were robbed at that moment, so why specifically did they come to resolve a case like this?

You questioned calmly, while pointing at the audience, smiling, before rushing to disappear with your family, leaving the problem to the bats, after all, they were the "professionals." You could say that the shock was written on their faces.. you were so big, poorly dressed.. those presentation clothes didn't suit a little girl like you.. but still.. what you meant by "your family" Were you referring to those circus freaks? They weren't as good as they were, they were just.. ordinary people! Well.. now they had to solve the problem of theft... but that couldn't end like that, nope.

[mellowsadistic]

Costume Changes - Part 1

Three college girls perform a childish prank on a woman’s house on Halloween, not realising the occupant is an actual witch. The girls are helpless to resist when she instructs them to come inside, and to their horror they find themselves being permanently altered by her magic.

***

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” said Amber, glancing nervously at the front door of the house.

“Oh lighten up,” said Lucy, handing her a roll of toilet paper. “it’s just a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, don’t be such a downer,” said Candace, pausing her examination of her nails to accept a roll of toilet paper from Lucy herself. “TP’ing someone’s house is a Halloween staple.”

“But what if that woman comes out and catches us?” Amer asked anxiously, adjusting her glasses and glancing again at the front porch of the house. Fake cobwebs stretched between the wooden pillars, plastic bats hung down on strings, and numerous pumpkins were sat around on the ground, leering at them.

“We’ll be long gone before she realises what’s happened,” said Lucy, rolling her eyes impatiently. “Besides, what’s she gonna do? Chase after us? It’s her own fault for not giving us any candy. We did things properly, didn’t we? We said trick or treat, and if she won’t give us a treat, she gets a trick. That’s how it works.”

“Aren’t you three a little old for trick or treating?” Candace mocked, echoing what the woman in the witch’s outfit had told them when they’d knocked on her door. “I’d rather save these sweets for the kiddies. What a bitch!”

Lucy put her hands on her hips. She wore a devil costume with a red vinyl bodysuit, matching boots, and a horned hairband. “And now it’s time for a little Halloween justice,” she said, tossing back her sleek brown hair and smirking.

Amber fussed with the sensible cardigan and knee-length skirt of her librarian costume. “Alright,” she conceded. “I’m in.”

“Well now that Amber’s given us permission,” Candace said scornfully, “I guess we can start.” She was dressed in a flowing blue gown with a loose, revealing bodice. A very realistic crown sat in her golden hair.

“I was just saying-”

“Ugh, stop bickering!” Lucy snapped. “Let’s get on with this! When we’re done, we’ll head to the bar, okay? I could do with a drink, and warming up a little.” She shivered in the cool Autumn air. Her costume left her shoulders, arms, and most of her legs bare.

Lucy threw the first roll of toilet paper, looping it high over the squat tree in the woman’s front garden. Amber and Candace followed suit, covering the hedges and flowerbeds with toilet paper, some of which began to melt immediately on the damp leaves. They moved on to the house itself next, arming themselves from the plastic bag of toilet rolls they’d brought with them, and tossing them over the porch and up onto the tiled roof, leaving trails of increasingly soggy paper everywhere. Soon the three college students were giggling like schoolgirls. At least until the front door opened and light spilled out onto the lawn.

“Well, well, well, looks like I was wrong,” said the woman in the witch costume. “Maybe the three of you are just kiddies after all.”

“Run!” Lucy gasped. She could feel a giddy excitement bubbling up within her, and she let out a laugh. But it died in her throat almost instantly. Something was wrong. She’d tried to sprint away towards the street, but it was as if her legs were frozen in place. She couldn’t move! She looked around wildly and saw Amber and Candace in the same situation, both gawking at their feet in confusion.

“I don’t think so,” said the witch woman lightly. She let out a sweet, tinkling laugh that sent a shiver down Lucy’s spine. “My, my, look what a mess you’ve made!” Her eyes travelled over the garden, coming to rest on the place where Candace had stuffed a roll of toilet paper into a drain pipe. “What silly, messy girls you are!”

“What have you done to us?!” Lucy demanded. She tried her best to sound confident and calm, and not scared out of her wits, but her voice shook nonetheless. There was something freaky going on here. “Why can’t we move?!”

“Just a little freezing spell,” said the woman, gently. “I can’t have you running off, can I? Now let’s see, what do we have here…” She walked up to Lucy, whose heart was thumping rapidly in her chest. “A naughty little devil!” She examined the other girls. “A snobbish queen too. And a fussy librarian!” She laughed again, shaking her head. “No, no, no, I don’t think that’s right at all! Come inside, little ones. I have some costumes that will suit you much better.”

The witch woman turned around and walked back inside the house, and to her horror, Lucy found herself following after her. It was as though her body was on auto-pilot, acting totally without her permission. Amber and Candace followed too, and Lucy could see the expression of fear on Candace’s face, and the look of shock and disbelief on Amber’s.

“This isn’t possible,” Amber was whispering to herself. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be an actual witch…”

They crossed the threshold into the house, and the woman closed the door behind them. “Follow me, girls,” said happily, leading them on into the living room. Even on the inside, the house was covered in Halloween decorations, but otherwise it looked normal. Regular chairs and regular tables and regular wallpaper. No giant cauldrons or bloodstained pentagrams, no place they might be sacrificed or eaten alive. Still, just being out of control of her body was enough to frighten Lucy to her core.

“Halloween is my favourite night of the year,” said the witch, walking over to a large wooden chest that sat against the wall and kneeling down in front of it. She lifted the top, and a gold light emanated from within. Lucy, Amber, and Candace stood in a row watching her, glued to the spot. “It’s always fun seeing what people choose to dress as. I think it reflects something about our inner selves.” The girls exchanged frightened glances as the woman rooted around inside the chest. “But some people need a little help understanding who they really are.” The witch stood up and turned around, holding a bundle of clothes. “And that’s certainly true of you three.” She handed a sparkly pink mass to Candace. “That’s for you, sweetie. You’re not a queen, I’m afraid. Just an overgrown little princess.” She moved on to Amber, pushing something white and tartan into her arms. “And you might think you’re a big, smart librarian, young lady, but I know better. You might be in your twenties, but you’re not ready to be out of school just yet.” Then she reached Lucy, and she handed over something soft and silky and pure white. Lucy’s hands reached out to take it without her say-so. “A devil is completely the wrong costume for you, little one,” the witch said sweetly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think you’re just an innocent little angel, aren’t you?”

Lucy looked down at the bundle she was holding. It was a wispy white dress, a pair of strap-on angel wings, and a fluffy halo attached to a hairband by a piece of wire. There was something else sitting on top, but for a moment she couldn’t comprehend what it was. Then the realisation came to her, and she felt her heart drop down into her stomach. Pull-ups. Soft and crinkly, with little flower designs for wetness indicators. A pair of Huggies pull-ups, just her size.

“For just-in-case,” said the witch, winking at her.

Lucy felt sick.

“But there’s nothing just-in-case about yours, is there, sweetie?” the witch cooed, looking over at Candace. Lucy followed the woman’s gaze and saw Candace looking stricken as she extracted something from the mass of pink frills she was holding. She unfurled it slowly and stared at it, horror-struck. “It’s only fitting for someone who clearly doesn’t know what toilet paper is for, don’t you think?” said the witch. “That will handle all your wees and poos.”

Candace blanched. She seemed unable to tear her eyes away from the enormous disposable diaper in her hands.

Lucy glanced at what Amber was holding. Resting on top of the tartan whatever-it-was was a pair of white panties with a My Little Pony design on the front. Amber was staring down at them intensely.

“Well come on, girls!” said the witch brightly, clapping her hands together twice. “Chop, chop! It’s time to change into your new outfits! Then we’ll see about some trick or treat candy!”

[therealcocoshady]

Maybe as a sequel to Size Difference, it’s their first date with a bit of smut. You just know he’s got quite the romantic side & going from friends to more he’d pull out all the stops.

From friends to lovers

Previous part

A/N : I got inspired by your suggestion so I ended up writing quite quickly 👀. I decided to keep this one soft and actually decided to save the smut for another part. In fact, I think this pairing would be ideal for the "Body Worship" prompt of the Kinktober Masterlist. 😉 I hope you enjoy it ! ❤️

CW : First date - Romance - FLUFF

A few days after the dinner party, you received a heard on your door. When you opened it, a delivery person handed you a bouquet of stunning deep red roses mixed with lilies, your favorite. You blinked in surprise, your heart leaping as you reached for the note nestled between the petals. You didn’t need to open it to know who it was from, but you did anyway, unfolding the small card to see his unmistakable scrawl.

“Dinner, you and me? Friday at 7. I’ll pick you up. - M”

Your heart skipped a beat as you read it, a smile tugging at your lips as you hugged the flowers to your chest. It felt surreal—after years of friendship, the man you’d secretly adored had finally asked you out, and not casually either. He’d sent flowers. An actual romantic gesture that made you feel special. . You’d never felt more seen and it was making you all giddy. When Friday arrived, you took extra care getting ready, choosing a dress that hugged your curves and made you feel confident. You couldn’t shake the nervous excitement as you waited for him, pacing your living room until you finally heard the knock. When you opened the door, your breath caught. There he was, dressed in a perfectly fitted outfit, looking at you like you were the only person in the world. His eyes traveled over you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice soft, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You look… stunning.” You felt yourself blushing, giving him a playful nudge. “Look who’s talking, Mr. Sharp Dresser.” He chuckled, offering his arm, and you looped yours through his as you headed out, the evening feeling like the start of something magical. Dinner was a mix of familiar and new—there was the same comfortable ease in your conversation, the laughter and banter that came so naturally between the two of you, but now there was something else, a heightened awareness in every glance, every touch. He pulled out all the stops, ordering your favorite dishes and insisting you try the dessert he knew you loved. He even stole a piece of your food, earning an eye roll from you that he met with a grin and a wink. The whole thing seemed effortless and yet, you could tell he was actually making an effort. Just enough to make you believe that dating was not a lost art after all. 

After dinner, instead of taking you straight home, he suggested a walk, leading you to a nearby park bathed in the soft glow of streetlamps. You strolled side by side, shoulders brushing now and then, the quiet intimacy of the night making you feel bolder. At one point, he stopped and turned to you, his eyes soft as they met yours. He seemed to hesitate, as if gathering his thoughts, and you waited, your heart pounding as you wondered what he might say. “You know,” he began, his voice lower now, more vulnerable, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while.” You blinked, a laugh of surprise escaping you. “Really? You’re serious?”. The dinner party, the flowers, the date night had made it clear that he liked you, but you were still in disbelief. Your close friend you had a crush on telling you he’d been wanting to ask you out for ‘a while ‘ was definitely not on your bingo card. Never, in a million years, would you have thought that the man who could have literally anyone would be interested in you.  He nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah, really. I was just… I didn’t know if you’d even want that.”

You stared at him, your surprise giving way to something tender. “Marshall, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m… not exactly what people expect for you. I didn’t think I was even your type.” He gave you a look that was part disbelief, part amusement, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “Not my type?” He shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Y/N, you’ve been my type since the day I met you. Funny, smart, gorgeous.” His voice softened, his gaze intense. “You’re everything.” You felt a lump form in your throat, your heart swelling as you let his words sink in. For so long, you’d felt like you were on the outside looking in, doubting whether he’d ever see you the way you saw him. But here he was, looking at you with nothing but pure, unguarded affection.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your heart raced, your hands finding their way to his chest as you kissed him back, melting into the warmth of him. Just like the first time he had kissed you, the world around you seemed to disappear, and it was just you, standing beneath the stars, sharing a moment that had been waiting to happen for so long. When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapped around your waist. “I don’t know how you never saw it,” he murmured, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m crazy about you.” You laughed softly, feeling the last of your doubts fade as you looked up at him, your own smile bright. “Guess I just needed you to show me.” He leaned in once again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was filled with years of friendship and hidden longing, every unsaid feeling finally spilling out between you. You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as he pulled you close, his hands pressing against the small of your back, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away. His kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and you responded with a soft moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as your bodies molded together. It felt like every brush of his lips, every slow exploration of his hands against your curves was a revelation—your heart pounded wildly, and you could feel his own pulse racing just as fast.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough with desire. “I don’t think you know how much you drive me crazy.” You smiled, breathless, your forehead resting against his as you caught your breath. His hands moved to your waist, tracing the lines of your dress, his touch both tender and possessive. Every inch of your body felt electrified, and the warmth of him, so close, made you want to lose yourself in him completely. The air between you grew hotter, his kisses trailing from your lips to your jawline, then down to the curve of your neck. His hand moved slowly, reverently, over your curves, exploring every line with a gentleness that made you feel seen, adored. You could barely keep yourself together, every touch of his lips and hands sending a rush of warmth through you.

As he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen before—a mixture of desire, tenderness, and respect. You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the collar of his jacket, your own heart racing as you tried to decide what came next. For a moment, the words were on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to invite him back to your place, to see where the night would take you. Desire was evident on both sides. But there was a hesitation, a sense that this moment was special, and you didn’t want to rush it.

He seemed to sense your thoughts, because he gave you that half-smile you loved, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I want this, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with honesty. “More than you know. But I don’t want to rush it. I’ve waited this long… and you’re worth waiting for.” Your heart softened, a smile blooming across your lips. “You’d wait?” He nodded, his thumb tracing your cheek. “I’d wait as long as it takes.” The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache in the best way, and you pulled him in for another kiss, this one slow and filled with gratitude. You realized, in that moment, that he wasn’t just a friend, or a date—he was someone who saw you, who cherished you, and who valued every part of you. You stood there in the park, kissing under the stars, wrapped up in each other like you were the only two people in the world. And as you finally pulled back, hand in hand, and walked away from that tree, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, something worth savoring.

[fallenangelicss]

Catching Stray Kisses

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1077

SUMMARY | When bored in class, Briget reverts to people-watching to pass the time. What she didn't expect was to find someone already watching her. The culprit behind it also seems to be pretty good at pulling a rise out of her.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | This is my first time partaking in a month-long prompt list so I'm going to do my best to keep up with it can get as many done as I can. It'll hopefully give me a reason to write more which I desperately need. Also, if you'd like to support me then you should consider downloading the Kinder World app with this link. My referral code is WV9K4X but if you need a new referral code then feel free to reach out!

EVENTS | @aug-kissed | Blow A Kiss

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Bridget sat bored in class, her head resting on one of her hands as her feet kicked back and forth under the desk. As much as she loved Merlin’s classes, they tended to drag on when they weren’t doing any sort of practical work. The singular hour that they were in the room seemed to stretch on for days and it didn’t help at all that it was the last lesson before they were free to do as they pleased. 

Ella sat next to her, carefully taking notes as Merlin taught at the front of the room, occasionally writing what seemed to be nonsense on the chalkboard. Bridget knew it would be smarter for her to just pay attention now so she wouldn’t have to beg Ella later for her notes but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the teacher for more than a few moments at a time, all the information he was spouting going in through one ear and out the other. 

It was honestly exhausting just sitting there. Bridget was ready to go up to her dorm and take a nap until dinner time then maybe make some sort of sweet treat afterwards that she could share around. She didn’t know what she would make but she knew she was itching to stand in front of her homemade mini-kitchen and get back to what she loved doing. 

Letting her eyes dance around the classroom after they instinctively went back to the clock hanging on one of the walls, seeing how they still had another twenty minutes to go before class was over, Bridget resorted to some sightseeing, attempting to find something that could keep her occupied while she waited for the bell to ring. 

Most of the students in the room, like her, seemed to be too bored to comprehend what was happening in front of them which could only be Merlin’s fault as he should’ve known better than to give anyone a theory lesson as their last class on a Friday. 

Like most days, Bridget noticed Uliana terrorising some of her classmates with her tentacles, trying to be discreet about it. At her side sat Morgie, which Bridget wasn’t surprised to see. Laughing almost uncontrollably at whatever it was that Uliana did, Morgie was always attempting to be a good villain for her. Another thing Bridget wasn’t surprised to see was Hades and Maleficent sat next to one another, their hands interlocked while Maleficent sketched something on some scrap paper and Hades messed around with some sort of fire magic. 

What Bridget was however surprised to see was Hook sitting by himself and staring directly at her. Normally he would be the one sitting next to Uliana, if not he would drag Morgie into the seat next to him so he was never by himself. But to see him alone and staring directly at Bridget was a shock, especially when he didn’t look away once he noticed Bridget had caught onto his stare. 

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, Bridget came face to face with Hook every time she opened her eyes. Not knowing what to do, a shy smile made its way onto her face to not seem rude under Hook’s stare. 

What Hook did next though threw her for a loop.

A smile of his own crept its way onto Hook’s face, the grin being more of a smirk than anything else. His eyes slowly crept up and down Bridget's frame before sending a wink her way, making a pink hue dust her cheeks as she zapped back around and faced the front of the classroom.

“Are you okay,” Ella asked, noting how Bridget was sitting with her spine straight and a flustered expression on her face. Still taking notes as she waited for an answer, Ella’s eyes ticked up to where Bridget was attempting to glance over her shoulder without getting caught and failing to do so. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Bridget quickly said, hands coming together and interlocking. Although Ella wasn’t born to much status like Bridget was, she could still notice when someone’s Princess was showing and that was exactly what was happening here as Bridget gushed to herself. Something regarding a boy had just happened and Ella was going to figure out what and who it was no matter what. “Everything is perfectly fine and normal. No reason to be worried at all.”

“Saying that just makes me more suspicious,” Ella warned, noticing how Bridget tensed up a little before sighing, almost as if her resolve was breaking. With just a little more pressure, Bridget would spill everything to her but it seemed like not much effort would be needed from Ella as Bridget was already undoing herself, fidgeting in her seat as she tried not to look back and giveaway who it was. Stopping for a moment before Ella looked back herself to see who it was, she rested a hand on Bridget’s arm and said, “It’s fine Bridget, you can tell me anything. I’m certainly not one to judge you.”

“You’re right,” Bridget smiled, returning the favour and grabbing onto Ella’s wrist, running a thumb over it. “I just noticed someone staring at me and…” “And you think they’re cute?” Ella finished the sentence for her, one of her eyebrows raising at Bridget as she waited for a response. Thinning her lips together, Bridget nodded her head, the blush that was previously coating her cheeks intensifying. “Okay, who is it?”

“Well…” Bridget trailed off, her eyes flicking backwards before looking back at Ella. With a nod of her head in his direction, the two of them looked back at the same time to see Hook still staring at Bridget, the same smirk still coating his face. His eyes didn’t move from Bridget’s face, solely focused on her and not even acknowledging Ella. Raising his hand that wasn’t occupied with a hook, Hook blew a kiss towards Bridget, a chuckle pouring from his mouth when both Bridget and Ella whipped back around.

“Did he just?” Bridget started, not having to finish her sentence for Ella to understand.

“Yeah,” She nodded, just as surprised as Bridget. This was news to Ella. She would have to do a serious amount of stalking and research before she let that pirate anywhere near her friend but for now, it wouldn’t hurt. “Looks like you won’t have to look too hard for a Castlecoming date.”

[justmystyles]

Big Winners - Part 3 (Final Part)

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,406

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this last part out. i hope it was worth the wait! i might slow down on posting for a bit as I want to map out and complete NYIML, as well as start a few other things i have in my head. i might also try to clear out my inbox a bit and finally get to some of your lovely requests.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The ride back to the hotel is spent in silence, Harry and Y/N letting the events of the evening sink in. The thing that kept running on a loop was that kiss. Their first kiss. They had been friends for a decade and a half, and that was a line that had never been crossed. 

Now that it had, neither was sure that they wanted to go back, but they were also nervous that the other didn’t feel the same. Not wanting to ruin or complicate the magic of the moment, they each made a silent vow not to mention the kiss, or wait until the other brought it up. 

The car pulls up to the front of the hotel, Harry gets out quickly, offering his hand to Y/N to help her step out. Their hands remain linked as they walk through the lobby and into the elevator. 

They stand together in the back corner of the empty elevator, Y/N sighs and leans her head down on Harry’s shoulder before finally breaking the silence. 

“I know our phones are probably blowing up with congratulatory messages, but do you think we could ignore all that until tomorrow? I feel like this moment needs to be just us.”

Harry smiles and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I think that’s an amazing idea. We can worry about the rest of the world tomorrow, tonight is just about you and I.” 

The elevator door opens, and Harry leads Y/N down the hall to their suite. 

“I can’t get over tonight…” Y/N sighs as they approach the door. 

Harry chuckles as he swipes his key card, opening the door and holding it for Y/N. “I can’t either. It’s been such a hectic night, and it all flew by so quickly.” 

Y/N smiles and nods, her expression quickly turns pensive. “Is it weird of me to say that I’ve never felt closer to you?” She wasn’t technically mentioning the kiss, maybe she just needed to test the waters a little. 

“Not weird at all,” Harry confirms with a dimpled grin. “I was thinking the exact same thing, actually.” 

He pauses for a moment, debating whether or not to bring up the kiss, he decides against it. “Even after all these years, everything we’ve been through, tonight just seemed to bring us closer than ever before.” 

Y/N smiles softly, relieved that he agrees. But he didn’t say anything about the kiss, so she let it go. “I’m going to take all of this off and get into my pajamas. You wanna order the room service and I’ll meet you in your room for food and a movie?”

“Why my room?” Harry asks with a furrowed brow. 

“Because, I’m tired and don’t want to deal with the couch, and you have the bigger bed.” She stated plainly. 

He narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “I hate how logical you are.” She giggled and shook her head. “What do you want me to order for you?” He asks.

Y/N shrugs. “You know me, just get whatever I’d like. I trust you.” With that, she goes into her room to change and take off her makeup. 

A few minutes later, she knocks softly on Harry’s bedroom door. He quickly calls for her to come in, and she enters wearing a pair of pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail, and her face makeup free. She is met with Harry, who is sitting on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, his back resting against the headboard. 

Harry smiles softly as she climbs into bed beside him. She looked stunning when she was glammed up, but she was at her most beautiful like this. This was the real, authentic Y/N, and she was perfect. 

He had always thought Y/N was beautiful, but they were friends, he had never seen her as anything more. Until that kiss. It was as if something had awoken inside of him, and he saw her in a completely different light. He saw the potential, he saw what they could be. 

He was nervous though. Despite her being the one to initiate the kiss, he wasn’t sure where her head was at. Did she have these feelings too? Or did she just get caught up in all of the emotions in that moment? 

Harry shook the thoughts out of his head, these were all things to worry about another time. He held his arms open and she instantly snuggled against him, he tilted his head and placed a gentle kiss in her hair. 

“Hey, Harry?” She says softly. 

“Hmm?”

“We won a Grammy award tonight.” She says in a soft tone, but the excitement is still clear. 

Harry chuckles and squeezes her a little tighter. “We did, didn’t we?” 

“I think this has been the best night of my life.” “Mine too,” he agrees. 

Before either of them can say anything else, there is a knock on the door. Harry excuses himself to grab the room service, he gives her one last squeeze before hopping out of the bed and leaving the room. 

Y/N watches as Harry walks away, her heart and mind racing. She was trying to decide if kissing her best friend was the best decision, or biggest mistake of her life. 

Over the years, there had been a few fleeting thoughts of what could be with Harry. It wasn’t lost on her that he treated her better than any guy she had ever dated, but she always just pushed those feelings down, not wanting to jeopardize one of the most important relationships in her life.

Now, all of those thoughts and feelings she had been ignoring for years had bubbled to the surface, and they weren’t going to be so easy to just brush off anymore. In the flurry of emotions and activity, she let her guard down and without even thinking, put everything on the line. 

She was grateful that he wasn’t saying anything, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d just let it slide, and they’d never speak of it again. But did she want to never speak of it again? He kissed back, he definitely kissed back, so he felt something too, right? Or was he just caught up in the moment?

“Time to eat!” Harry’s voice breaks her from her thoughts. She turns her head to the door to see him wheeling in a cart full of food. 

“Jesus, how much did you order?” Y/N hops out of bed and helps him lay out all of the plates on the table. 

“It’s a celebration,” Harry shrugs. “Besides, you’re picky, so I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes and chuckles. “I’m not that picky.” 

“The first thing you look for at every restaurant we go to is whether or not they have chicken fingers.” He says with an arched brow. 

“It’s my standby backup food. Pretty much any restaurant is going to have some iteration of chicken fingers, so if I can’t find anything else, I’ll get that. Speaking of…” Her eyes roam over the plates. 

Harry lifts a plate of chicken fingers and french fries. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite?” She says sweetly and kisses his cheek. “Yeah, every time I buy you chicken fingers.” He chuckles and ruffles her hair. 

She giggles and takes a chicken finger off the plate. 

“Ah ah ah,” Harry chides as he slaps her hand lightly. “Before we eat, I want to do something.” Y/N looks at him curiously. “There are going to be a ton of pictures out there of us all dressed up with our shiny trophies. I want to take one of the real us with our trophies.”

She drops the chicken finger back on the plate, and wipes her hands on her pants while Harry grabs the two trophies and walks over to the full length mirror. 

When she approaches, he hands her one of the trophies and pulls his phone out of his pocket. They stand side by side, Harry takes the hand with his phone in it and wraps it around her shoulder, while she wraps one arm around his torso, the other holding the trophy. 

“Okay, smile.” Harry says in a goofy tone. Once she is smiling, he presses his lips to her temple and snaps the picture. 

They take a few more, their eyes locked on each other through the mirror. The energy feels different, more intimate than it typically does, but they both choose to ignore it. 

Once the impromptu photo shoot is over, they grab their food and get back into bed. Harry throws on a movie, but it’s merely background noise as they spend their night laughing and joking as they recap the evening; avoiding one specific detail in particular. 

Hours later, they’re stuffed from the food, and laying in each other's arms in the bed. 

“Can I stay here? I’m too tired and full to walk to my room.” 

Harry chuckles and nods, he looks down at you and sees your eyes fluttering, as if they could close any moment. “Of course you can,” he says softly, kissing the top of her hair. 

Y/N sighs happily and her eyes finally close. Harry lays there, staring at the ceiling. He knows he should be tired, but all he can think about is that kiss. It had been lingering in his mind all night, and as much as he didn’t want to ruin the moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep without talking about it. 

“Hey Y/N, are you still awake?” Harry whispers. 

“Mhm…” She hums sleepily. 

Harry sighs, he feels bad keeping her up, but he knows he can’t keep it inside anymore. He pauses for a moment before finally speaking. 

“Can we talk about… uh, well…” He stutters, not sure how to say it. “You kissed me tonight.” 

Y/N’s breath hitches, her eyes remain closed for a moment before opening them and sitting up. His words wake her up like a bucket of cold water. “Yeah… I guess I kind of did.” She says sheepishly. “But you kissed me back.” She quickly gets defensive. 

Harry chuckles at her comeback, he throws his hands up in surrender. “I did, I know. I’m not denying that.” He takes a deep breath. “I just… listen, you know I love you, and you’re stuck with me forever, no matter what, so no hard feelings either way. I was just wondering if it was… a heat of the moment thing, or in some way intentional…”

Y/N drops her gaze, it definitely helped that Harry said she was stuck with him no matter what. Maybe this wasn’t as bad of a thing as she had thought. They had always been honest in their friendship, so she wasn’t about to start lying to him now. 

“I think it started as a heat of the moment thing, like I didn’t go into this thinking ‘if I win, I’m going to kiss him.’ But when it happened, it felt… good, it felt right.”

A small smile plays on Harry’s face. “Yeah?” 

She looks up at him, her heart starting to race when she sees his expression. “What about you? Did you want to kiss me back, or were you just being polite?” 

“I definitely wasn’t just being polite.” He chuckles. “And it kind of… I don’t know, it opened up this door that I didn’t even know was there. It made me think that maybe this is something more than we’ve thought all these years…”

Y/N nods in understanding. “So, you’ve never thought about us being more than friends before?”

“Honestly, no.” He says quietly, he feels a little bad about that answer; especially with everything he’s feeling now. “Have you?”  

“Maybe once or twice,” she shrugs. “I just, I don’t know, you’re the first person I always go to after a breakup, and we’ll be talking, and you’ll be shitting on the guy, and I’ll just think about how you’re the opposite of all the things you shit on.” 

“But you never-” 

“Because our friendship is too important to me.” She interrupts him. “I always cut those thoughts off as soon as they start, because I never wanted to complicate things. I’m your friend, and what we have is so amazing. I didn’t want to complicate it with extra feelings that could possibly be one sided.” 

“Which they were,” Harry finishes her thought. “Until tonight.” 

“So… what does this mean?” Y/N asks, her heart racing and her stomach in knots. This is a pivotal moment in their friendship, and she’s terrified of what comes next. 

“Well,” Harry starts, a soft, dreamy expression on his face. “If you think about it, we’ve kind of always been a bit like a couple. I mean, you were about to fall asleep in my bed… in my arms. Maybe we should just take that one last step and make things a bit more official.”

Y/N smiles shyly, she can’t remember the last time she ever felt nervous around Harry, because of Harry. “So like, a more than friends situation?” 

Harry chuckles and nods his head, lifting his hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “More than friends. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” 

“That sounded so corny,” she giggles. 

“Sweetheart, if you thought I was corny as your best friend, just wait until you see how corny I can be as your boyfriend.” He says with a goofy smirk. 

“My boyfriend…” She sighs, letting the reality of the moment sink in. 

He lets out a breathy laugh and leans in, pausing just before their lips touch. “My girlfriend…” He whispers before pressing his lips to hers. 

The kiss deepens instantly. Now that their feelings have been fully realized, it’s like fifteen years worth of ‘should have beens’ are all coming to the surface. Harry shifts effortlessly, so that Y/N is laying on the bed with him hovering over her. 

“This really is the best night of my life…” Y/N says softly, as she stares into his eyes.

Harry smirks and leans down, trailing kisses along her neck. “Well get ready, it’s about to get even better…”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Days Eleven and Twelve

The Different Beatle Arrivals outside apple are interesting to me. 

Ringo: arrives first, in the passenger’s seat, has a chummy remark for his driver, a cheeky grin for the camera, and a kind nod for the scruffs. 

John and Yoko: arrive second, in the back of their on-brand, white thing, with no acknowledgement of anyone (and Yoko accidentally goes for the front door then changes directions when she sees John going around the side)

George: drives himself, glances over his shoulder, locks his car door, and goes in. Again, no acknowledgement. 

Paul: walks, studiously ignores the camera, bestows a condescending nod at the scruffs. (shouldn’t be sexy. Is. what else is new?)

Everything the scruffs said was perfection. Where are their parents? Who is taking care of them? Do they not go to school?

So glad for the boys that they took a day to hide from the cameras. I hope they all traded meaningful items of clothing and meditated and circle jerked and told each other how brilliant they were. (Oh gosh. Can you all imagine a circle-jerk plus yoko? Her and Paul furiously compete over who can hold John's eye contact?)

Short queens making the beatles look like child-labor supporters. 

Look at that cute little impish grin. What do we think? Did George and John actually have a punch-up? George Martin went out of his way on at least two occasions to say that they did, in fact, come to blows. But I didn’t see any evidence on John the next day, and they both seem extremely comfortable joke-fighting here, where I don’t think they would if they’d real-fought a week or so ago. I don’t know, I think it’s very up for debate. But if they did, I actually think it would be a testament to the importance of the John and George dynamic. We always say how it shows how much John must’ve cared about Paul to sprint down the road and jump his fence over a missed recording session. What would it say about how much John must’ve cared about George if he punched him when he said he’d quit?

Either way, their *meaningful* rendition of “You are my sunshine” is heart-melting.

Yoko, the og sad beige mom.

Add juggling to Ringo’s talents in his cabaret/circus act with Paul.

Every old man obsessed with “tough, acerbic Lennon” needs to have “My rock and roll finger is bleeding, my rock and roll finger is hurt” played on a loop in their heads every time they open their mouths until they shut up. 

Paul, why are you literally strong-arming Glyn into the studio? This man does not know how to touch another person.    

Maybe they kept Magic Alex around just for laughs? It’s good to hear anyway, that they are fully aware they’re being conned. 

The way George and Paul just in sync jump into their old choreography. 

The way they could really have just gone off and done their own things while Glyn finishes setting up. But the idea just doesn’t occur to them. Why would they want to be anywhere else, doing anything else, with anyone else? 

I feel like John right now because I’m like enjoying Paul’s sexy drumming face and then the camera switches and I’m like Oh Yoko you’re so pretty. And is this another *meaningful* cover? I’m going to have to make a list of all these and go through after I’m done with this and see which ones I think actually have a double meaning. “My baby left me” by Crudup. My main evidence here being Yoko’s Jim Halpert expression as John’s singing this at Paul.

How to get Paul to stop messing with your shit. A demonstration by Ringo Starr. 

John is Not having Paul reading their bad press for the cameras.

And today, it’s John that needs a little Ringofection. I wonder if it had anything to do with “Aaaaall I want is youuuuuuuuu. Everything has got to be the way you want it toooooooooo.”

George looking at Ringo’s jumping jacks. I agree. 

“Richard Rogers has got nothing on this boy. . . . Ah, sometimes, John, I don’t know.” “I just make it up as I go along.” “Oh, is that how you do it?” Again. He’s being silly, but he really does think you’re the smartest boy in the whole wide world, John. I hope you know that. (he definitely does not know that.)  

ICONIC. One of my favorite moments of the whole series. Not a glance at each other. Perfectly synchronized.

Any particular significance with Dicky Murdock that anyone knows about?  

Another favorite moment. The absolute marshmallow softness. Oh to have footage of Paul teaching John guitar chords on one of their childhood beds.

Not going to say it again, but boy am I thinking it.

Someone needs to make a compilation of all the times someone’s been caught giving John and Paul a WTF look. 

[lefarte]

rahhhhh pretty please taking care of an injured levi 🙏maybe even lost a limb… whatever you want… as long as he is cared for as he deserves

Yesssss of course

Warnings for amputation, emetophobia (not discussed in detail). Hurt/comfort, this could be platonic, and GN reader.

The train had been rolling through the mountains for what felt like days.

After the end of the festival, the train was nearly empty. Very few made it back to board. With no conductor, the train kept on rolling and rolling, as if by magic. You imagined it would keep going until it broke.

Even still, it had stopped in several places, and each of the survivors had left. All but you and Levi remained, with nowhere to go, no stop to get off at.

It was violently chilly within the cabin so you two would sit together. He shook like a leaf. He hadn’t been able to regulate his body temperature since the infection left him feverish and dizzy. You kept him warm by feeding him shots of vodka and holding opium pipes to his mouth. You had torn the curtains off the windows to fashion into a faux-blanket, but in his sleep he always kicked it off.

“Just drink,” You pressed the bottle against his lips, holding his head in your lap. “Drink it…”

He made a miserable whimpering noise, already wasted. “I can do it - hic - myself…”

He grabbed the bottle out of your hands with his own clammy paws. Vodka and the occasional slice of bread had been the only thing keeping your stomachs from churning. The train had long since passed your stop (it had run in a long loop to west Voroniya to Oldëgarde and to Rondon). You refused to leave him alone. He couldn’t even walk.

The bottle slipped out of his hands and broke with a sudden crack. Then, he hunched over and started convulsing, violently, and vomited on your shoes.

“No - fuck - I’m sorr -“ He gasped between convulsions. You scrambled to hold his hair back. “I’m sorr- y - god I’m a - I’m a - fuck up —!!“

“It’s okay!” You held on tightly. He was sweating hard, his whole body cold. “No, you’re okay…”

“‘S nooottt okay…” he panted, letting out one more painful cough. “I couldn’t hold it… I….”

Not knowing what else to say, you gave him a tight hug. He groaned drunkenly.

“I’m not mad.” You ran your hand through his hair.

“I got your shoes…. Dirty…” He muttered hoarsely.

You shook your head. “They were ruined anyway.”

He returned to a normal-ish state shortly thereafter (normal for Levi). He was clearly still shaken up about the noise of the bottle dropping, but he seemed embarassed, and his embarrassment had stifled his panic. You had nothing but more beer to help the taste, which he seemed to have wanted more of anyway. Despite being so small he could really hold his alcohol.

After a moments silence, you heard a hiss of pain from your lap again.

“Does it still hurt?”

“I won’t throw up.” He promised meekly.

“I don’t care about that, does it hurt?” You insisted.

He hesitated and then nodded. “….hold… me… again… please.”

You sat him up and held his head up to your chest. You felt his pale body shaking restlessly and his stomach cramping. You felt his ragged breaths hitting your neck.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. He shook his head.

“I want to go back,” he croaked. “I want to go back to prehevil. I should’ve… gone with everyone else… I… wish I’d stayed in the orphanage, I wish I was one of them.”

“Don’t say that.”

“…” He nodded.

“At the next stop, we’re going to a hospital. Look, I already saw a house. There will be more nearby. And don’t say you don’t want to go.”

“I can’t walk… my legs…” He closed his eyes. “My legs are gone.”

“I’ll carry you - I don’t know…”

He took a long, pained breath through his nose, and nuzzled into your neck like how a kitten would. His eyes were still closed, he was so drunk he was delirious. This was the first time he had ever gotten so affectionate with you. To anyone, as far as you could see. You gave him a squeeze.

“I’m tired.” He admitted. His voice was close to you, nearly speaking into your ear. “Really tired. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Your hand went up to gently rub his upper back. “Yes, of course. Of course, Levi.”

He sighed. “That feels nice.”

“Really?” You petted him. “I’ll keep doing it, then.”

He held you tighter and made another small noise. “Thanks.”

After a while, he was asleep, and a backdrop of houses began to roll in. Soon, you’d be in town.

[vivi-the-goblin]

Campaign idea I've LONG had but would require a fair bit of setup: time loop adventure. The party is having dinner at the tavern, when a rumbling rocks the foundations of the earth. Everything explodes in a wave color, sound, and immense pressure, but it parts around them the crest of a wave to a ship's bow. That bow being a small imp-like creature, screeching with the effort to maintain whatever shield is keeping the wave at bay. As quickly as it began, it ends, the world outside the bubble going greyscale. "Noble heroes," the creature pants, slowly turning. "The world hangs a second from death, I'm afraid I have to break my oath and call upon you once...Who the fuck are you!?" It collapses to its knees as it sees its intended targets, one table over. Epic heroes with legendary kit. Despite trying to maintain a low profile the party might even recognize them, or at least the gear spilling out of their robes. Most seem to be shrinking into their armor, though the gnome's just turning green. The whole bar is doing the same, come to think of it. "HOW. HOW DID I MISS. I- ok, ok. I can work with this. That's fine. they used to be chumps too, we just had more time to work back then. Hi. Welcome to the end of the world. If you want to roll it back, we can talk." The paladin's all for it. The rest of the party is conflicted, but they eventually decide they've got nothing else to do. First thing though, who is this? "Got a lot of names, been around for a while. Maintain time, maybe you've seen my work? Yeah, not gonna have it undone by a punk with a wish. One that wished for more wish granting items, and again with with all of those, until eventually they had enough for thier whole tribe of hundreds. and the tribe had one wish, a wish with enough power to bind even the gods." "They wished for 'Goblin'. And with neither the world or the goblins themselves having any idea what that's supposed to mean, creation answered with 'Yes.' There's not a thing under the sun that's not becoming goblin. Or over the sun. The sun's not outta the question eith- look, it's everything, ok? I don't know the reach, I don't want to either, I just know we can't stop that blast." The party grumbles. how do they save things if the gods themselves are bound? "I can chuck you back in time. Only about a day, I had to snap most of myself off when the corruption started. We can do this for a while, but we have to do this. Find out where they are. Figure out how to get to them. and somehow stop them. Can't be that hard, right? they're just goblins, right?" One way to find out. Basically this would start out consequence free. The world is set up, and full of FAR stronger creatures...at first. If they die they lose thier gear, but NOT thier info, the day just resets. Milestone experience, the players will slowly level up as they discover things. Discover how to get what they need more efficiently, skip parts, etc. I said 'at first.' Once they've gotten far enough, gotten their bearings, etc...they notice something's slightly different. Someone's slightly greener and nobody notices. A butterfly is a little goblin with goblin-patterned wings. something slightly changes in thier loop. next loop the little time gremlin's got a green ear. maybe they notice the bubble's slightly smaller. You've learned how things work, now execute. Whether you progress toward a failstate by amount of deaths/loops, or just give the illusion by going off progress, the pressure ramps up. The dragon they have to convince? goblin dragon. The city? slowly becoming goblins. Wild magic starts effecting party members, as even the concepts of reality start becoming goblin, under a sun that's starting to tint green. The bright side is you could do a bunch of the prep right at the start, and have far less to do as things progress. That's also the downside however, and the reason I haven't done it yet.

[nikkeora]

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 - p.j

summary; percy comforts you after finding you on the fire escape.

pairing; percy jackson x neighbor!demigod!reader

word count; 4.6k

warning(s); themes of abusive relationships. do not interact if this is a trigger for you, and please, reach out if you need help and are able. the world is full of people who can help, even if it's just little things like consolation.

a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. feedback is always appreciated :) // takes place between the fourth and fifth book of pjo

request(s); HI HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY/NIGHT CAN I PLEASSSSEEEEEE GET PERCY X READER "58/ "Who did this to you?"" WITH PROTECTIVE PERCY I WILL CRY!!!

Hello! Can I please request Percy Jackson x reader with prompt #58: “Who did this to you?” Thank you!

Every time Percy made his way back home after Camp, he expected all sorts of monsters to come pounding at the door. He was the son of Poseidon, after all—the more powerful a demigod was, the easier they were to smell out.

And they kind of did; dracaenae in the grocery store, pit scorpions in the gym and pretty much everywhere else. He even saw a cyclops from his bedroom window once, lumbering pretty dam close to the apartment before shaking his head, seemingly confused, and wandering off. Well, that was strange.

Percy had tried to think of anything that could have thrown the cyclops off his trail. Maybe he smelled another half-blood somewhere, or maybe he just didn't feel like having son-of-the-sea-god fillet for dinner. None of those seemed likely.

Or maybe the cyclops just lost the trail, simple as that. But in Percy’s opinion, that was even less likely than the other two options. Being a son of one of the Big Three gods, Percy was pretty much a beacon for monsters everywhere, which was why he was always hesitant when coming home after camp. He didn't want to put his mom in danger because of him (and Paul Blowfish was really nice, too).

The only way to get rid of his smell, as far as he knew, was by covering it with a stench so foul that it got masked, making Percy smell like just a rather horrid mortal to monsters. Yeah, his mom got an apartment in a shady neighborhood to sort of do just that, but a shady neighborhood wasn't nearly enough to confuse a monster like a cyclops. He needed Smelly Gabe levels of stink, at the very least.

Another reason Percy thought the whole shady neighborhood plan wasn’t what had thrown that cyclops for a loop was because of you.

Now don't get him wrong, he liked having you around. A little too much, even, which he was embarrassed to admit. You were one of the first and best friends he'd made at camp, and you had a personality that could brighten anyone's day. But two demigods living in the same building? Going to the same school, no less? That had to be a recipe in some sort of demon cook book somewhere, just imagine—'easiest-ever cheesecake with half-blood garnish: start by catching two half-bloods, preferably from the same building to keep them fresh...'

Strangely enough, though, nothing ever seemed to get near him when he was with you. No dracaenae disguised as pregnant ladies in the store, no pit scorpions crawling out from between the bookshelves in the library. Not once while hanging out with you did a monster decide to stop by for a quick snack, which was a pretty big deal considering he never left your side if he could help it. He never understood why that was.

Until tonight.

Percy never slept well at home. Sure, it was great to be there, but this wasn’t like Camp, where a magic barrier kept anything dangerous from getting in. This was a regular mortal apartment, where a Laistrygonian giant could easily lob a giant ball of fire at if he had a half-decent aim. He lay awake most nights, which was pretty frustrating since he couldn’t use a phone or something to distract himself, and trying to read just made the words float off the page. So, naturally, he used the sound that flooded through his bedroom window as a sort of white noise to help him fall asleep.

Tonight was especially difficult. He was up way past the point where his body usually started to give in to the drowsiness, and it was really pissing him off. Every time he shut his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep, they just opened again a minute or two later, feeling a lot drier.

Suddenly, he heard someone open then slam their window shut a few floors up. Someone slipped onto the fire escape and started climbing down. Who in Hades would be out there at this hour?

The footsteps stopped almost as soon as they started, and nothing but the usual busy murmur of the Manhattan night continued once again. How long had passed? Ten minutes? Twenty? Percy realized he hadn’t heard another window open or close. And the footsteps never passed by his window, so Percy figured whoever was out there was maybe two or three stories up from his floor – somewhere near yours – and decided to go check, grabbing Riptide in its pen form off his bedside table.

If it was just some mortal who’d decided to hang out up there, that’s fine and all. He might have to scare them off if they were too close to your window, but no one would be in actual danger. If it was a monster trying to sneak up on him, or you, for that matter, he would take care of it and come back inside. He didn’t have anything better to do, anyway. He slowly opened his window and slipped outside, being as quiet as he possibly could considering the fire escape was practically ancient.

What he found when he climbed up, however, wasn’t some rando or a monster. It was you. And while normally the sight of you would fill his stomach with butterflies so strong they practically made his skin tingle, what he saw now made his heart drop umpteen stories to the Underworld.

You were wearing your pajamas, which any sensible person would say were much too cold for the season. It was nearing winter a lot more than autumn now, and the temperature was low enough that he could see your shaky breaths. Even so, you still sat out there in nothing but a paper-thin long sleeved shirt and some sweats, hugging your knees to your chest as to either bring yourself some comfort or warmth. Probably both. Your whole body was shaking pretty hard, and Percy didn’t need to see your face to know that you were crying.

He put Riptide into his pocket and shuffled his feet a little as he got closer to you, deliberately making his presence known so he wouldn't startle you when he sat down next to you. Quickly wiping your hand across your face, you tried to clean any trace of tears as you looked up to see who was there.

“Hey, Perce,” you said, smiling at him the way you always did. Your voice would’ve sounded normal if it wasn’t so raw. The way you tried to act as though nothing was wrong made Percy want to punch something. Or someone. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the amount of sheer anger he felt. The silence was deafening as he tried to calm himself down.

“Who did this to you?” He finally asked, his voice shaking. Whether it was from anger, or the sheer amount of willpower he had to conjure to stop himself from beating whoever was the cause of this senseless, he didn’t really know. Your smile wavered a bit.

“What d’you mean?” You replied, trying your best to look confused and oblivious. If he hadn’t caught you actually crying, he was sure he would have bought it. “No one did anything to me, Percy. I’m perfectly fine. Just peachy. All that stuff.”

“Y/N, you’re crying on the fire escape in the middle of the night. I’m not that stupid.” Percy sighed, frustrated. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, it was his job to make sure no one stepped out of line around you, the way you did for him. Like how you gave anyone who tried to talk bad about him a glare so intense they would immediately shut up and run in the opposite direction. “Who did this to you?”

You stayed still for a minute, seemingly weighing your options. On the one hand, you could play dumb and go back home, the way you always did when someone asked what was wrong. You really didn’t want Percy to see you like this. On the other, he already has, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

Besides, the thought of going back to your own apartment made your blood run cold. You ran your hands up and down your arms as chills made their way along your spine.

“My boyfriend,” you finally muttered out, looking away from Percy as you spoke. “He usually stays over since my place is always empty. Practically lives there. We had a big fight about… you, actually. He said you were bad news and told me to stay away from you. I told him you were a good person who just got caught up in some pretty bad situations sometimes. He made a few accusations. Told me—”

You choked on your words. Percy put a hand over your shoulders, a bit hesitant as he wasn’t sure if you wanted him close by right now. After all, he was part of the reason you were out here in the first place. He breathed a little sigh of relief as you leaned into his touch, pressing yourself against his side as he pulled you close.

“He told me I followed you around like a puppy anyway, so to be a good little dog and run home to my master. I didn’t see a point in arguing with him, so I told him that maybe I would. He, um, didn’t like that too much.”

You let out a shaky sigh. Now that you recounted what had happened, it didn’t seem like much of a step up from what your boyfriend usually did. He never liked it when you made friends, so why did him trying to separate you from Percy feel so much more personal than all the other times he told you to cut yourself off?

While you were contemplating the reason for it, Percy was plotting a murder.

He was pretty sure Rachel had a step-by-step guide on it somewhere. But then again, why read a book when one of his other best friends was literally the daughter of the goddess of strategy? And Clarisse.. well, as much as they didn't get along, he was pretty sure she liked you more than most of the other campers, enough to threaten to pulverize anyone who hurt you with the full intent of following it through.

First things first, Seaweed Brain, Anabeth’s voice said in his head (it did that from time to time; Percy assumed he didn't really have his own voice of logic, so his brain borrowed it from the smartest person he knew). She's freezing.

“Right,” he muttered, giving your shoulders a little squeeze. You flinched. First things first, he mentally repeated, and pulled the both of you off of the cold metal platform with an apologetic look. “Let’s get you back to my place, yeah? Get you warmed up.”

You nodded and started to follow him down the stairs. Your legs were unsteady from being folded for too long in the cold, and you stumbled on the first few steps. After the first flight, Percy stopped in his tracks and looked at you for a moment, deciding whether or not carrying you was a bit too much considering there was only a floor or two left to his window. Then he decided that he didn’t care if it was and scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style.

To his surprise, you didn’t protest. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, the act making his face go warm. If someone were to see him right now, he was sure the mix of anger and butterflies would have made his face look the color of canned tomato soup.

Once he reached his floor, he put you down and climbed in first, offering you a hand once he was inside. You smiled to yourself as little butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, but they soon vanished and left you with a sinking feeling that quickly spread everywhere. He was just being a good friend. He doesn’t like you in that way. You have a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be thinking like this–

Percy sat you down on his bed, rummaging through his clean clothes to find something useful. Most of his clothes were really worn out, so it wasn’t much of an easy task. Then his fingers brushed against something soft, and he pulled it out to examine; it was a blue polyester sweater his mom had bought around the end of last winter. He’d worn it a lot over the last few months, but it had been washed more recently than most of his other winter clothes.

“Put this on.” He threw it across the room at you. You caught it and did as you were told, pulling it over your shirt. The scent of ocean breeze fabric detergent and a hint of sea salt washed over you. Percy took a seat beside you on the bed, his gaze boring into you as you tried your best to ignore what had just happened. A second ago, being upset had felt justifiable. Now you were just embarrassed to have been caught.

Again, that wasn’t any worse than what he did every other day. Why did it bug you so much?

“So, you don’t naturally smell like ocean breeze, huh?” You commented, trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe distract him from what he’d just seen. Hey, why not both? “A shame, really. You’d be useful in the Hermes cabin—can’t get cleaned up for inspection most of the time, so smelling nice would definitely be an improvement.”

Percy ran his hand through his hair, his frustration starting to get the better of him. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” He asked. When you didn’t answer, he gently put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. Finally, you sighed.

“It’s not usually this bad,” you offered, giving him a small smile. “He never means what he says—or what he does, for that matter. He just gets a little carried away when he’s worried. He’ll apologize in the morning, I’m sure. Always does.”

Usually?

Never?

Always?

This had been going on for a lot longer than Percy had imagined. How could he have let this happen? Was he so dense as to notice the signs? He’d met the guy, for fuck’s sake. He realized now that you weren’t flustered or anything like that whenever your boyfriend dragged you away from him all those times. You were dreading what would happen once no one else was around.

“This isn’t okay, Y/N,” he muttered, moving his hands to hold yours instead. His thumbs traced little patterns on your skin, and you could swear it sent little electric shocks up along your nervous system.

“He’s the best I can hope to get…” You replied, a bitter smile on your face. He told you so all the time. Your best friend got a funny look on his face, something you could only describe as ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ That look then faded into anger, then sadness, then anger again. His expression alternated between the two as he took a breath, then said,

“Tell me everything.”

You were almost certain he almost said something else, but you figured it wasn’t too important. If it was, it would come up again, eventually.

You bit your lip. You didn’t really like telling anyone about your relationship. But then again, this was Percy. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

Percy’s gaze softened as he noticed how hesitant you were. “Please? Promise I won’t judge.” He added.

Oh, come on, that voice was cheating. How could you say no?

So, you started from the top.

From the beginning of your relationship, every time you made some minor mistake, your boyfriend would swoop in and clean up the mess as a ‘favor’. Even if you knew for a fact you could set things straight on your own or didn’t want his help, he was always there to act like it was this huge deal. He would tell you that you were a hot mess, and that no one else but him would ever want to keep you around. He only put up with you because he loved you. And after a couple months, you started to believe him.

Later on, he used those favors against you to guilt you into doing things you didn't really want to do. It started with little things, like getting you to wear what he wanted all the time.

“C’mon babe, remember when I did that thing for you? Just think of it as a little thank you. You can do that for me, right?”

To quote your boyfriend, you were to wear ‘nothing too long, but nothing too skimpy, either’. You weren't allowed to take your coat off in public if you wore a dress that went above your knees, or if your top showed off a little more than what he deemed necessary. You used to joke that you felt like you were dating a high school teacher, but what little humor you managed to find in the situation gradually disappeared as your entire wardrobe was stripped of your own personality and taste.

He became more demanding over time, doing things like taking you out to party with people you barely knew in clothes that made you feel downright uncomfortable, letting his friends ‘borrow’ you if they needed arm candy for a family dinner or something to get their folks off their asses, etcetera. You’d very nearly avoided giving him your first night on his fifteenth birthday—however mad he got, that was the one thing he couldn't guilt out of you.

That was the first time he’d hit you.

“He apologized afterwards,” you quickly added, feeling Percy’s grip tighten. The two of you were now sat facing each other on the bed, shoes kicked off on the floor and legs crossed, with not much space in between except for your intertwined hands. “Like I said, he always does. He was as surprised as me when he did it, and we avoided each other for a week before he came back with a written apology. He told me he wouldn’t go further than anything PG-13 if I wasn’t okay with it.”

He nodded, but you could see his eyes getting darker with each word, their usual sea green color changing until it had more of a stormy blue tone.

Wait a minute, why were you defending the boy who hit you, again?

You continued to tell him how your boyfriend was really insecure, though he tried to hide it in public. You did your best to try to help him, reassure him that he didn’t have anything to be insecure about, but he was almost impossible.

He didn’t like it when you had friends who weren’t also his friends, or when you hung out with anyone else more than him—which, considering he went to a different school than you, meant you weren’t allowed to interact with people much other than the basic stuff. You always distanced yourself from everyone to appease him. So, seeing how much the two of you were around each other, Percy wasn’t exactly popular with your boyfriend.

He murmured passive-aggressive comments whenever he saw you with him, never directly accusing you of doing anything with him but making the questions abundantly clear. He had tried on several different occasions to get you to push him away, and every time you refused, he just got a lot more persistent.

He picked out all the times Percy had supposedly gotten you into trouble, blissfully ignorant about the world of live-action D&D that practically required you to be in danger ninety-nine percent of the time. He made comments about Percy’s ADHD and dyslexia, which you shut down immediately every time. It wasn’t cool to be rude towards people for something they couldn’t control.

Your boyfriend wasn’t used to not getting his way with you for so long, but quite frankly, you didn’t care. Percy was special to you—with him, you could pretend you were just another pair of stupid teenagers doing stupid things. Ironic, considering he was front and center for every major thing that went on. He made you feel like you could breathe, and you’d be damned before you let some sorry excuse of a person take away what little freedom Percy offered.

You made sure to leave that part out, though. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn’t really the time to confess you had a crush on your best friend, despite having a boyfriend.

That was a secret for another time, if it were to be told at all.

Every time you’d told someone about your boyfriend so far, you’d tried to explain to them that it wasn’t all gray skies and rain. He was so sweet to you back when you were friends, before you got into a relationship; you were sure he just needed some time to get used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing before he bounced back to his regular old self. This time, though, you skipped that part completely.

Something about how Percy treated you made something inside you snap. It had been two whole years, and you were tired of thinking he would change, tired of holding onto hope in a hopeless situation. You were sick and tired of your boyfriend, and it was time you stopped making excuses for everything he did to you.

But, old habits died hard. You felt the all-too-familiar words on the tip of your tongue, and so, on complete impulse, you stopped yourself from starting the obligatory ‘he’s not that bad’ speech by leaning forward and burying your face against Percy’s shoulder. You could tell he was as surprised as you were, and froze on the spot. Red alarm bells blared through your head as you held your breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

Oh fuck oh gods oh fuck—

You fully expected him to push you away, but he didn’t.

Instead, one of his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer, and closer, and closer, until you were on his lap with your legs on either side of his. He rubbed your back—not exactly in a steady rhythm, but it was comforting nonetheless. You thought you’d cried everything out earlier, but, evidently, you were wrong. Tears made their way down your face and onto Percy’s pajamas, and you choked out apologies between sobs. For what, you didn’t actually know. Getting him wet, not telling him sooner, for making him find out like this… everything.

“I’m sorry,” Another sob racked through your body. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He said. “Come on, let it all out.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, and Percy only pulled away when he felt your breathing start to level out. When he looked at you again, your eyes were a lot redder and he was sure they’d be really swollen in the morning.

“You said he… hit you, right?” You nodded, and Percy felt his blood physically boil. “Can I take a look?”

You didn’t say anything – tired out from all the crying, he guessed – and pulled up the back of your shirt instead. Percy hastily got out from under you and got one of the first-aid kits stashed around the house, flicked on the bedside lamp, then pulled out a tub of Arnica.

Apart from the scars and stuff from general life as a demigod, your skin should have been free of any unusual marks. But it was black and blue. A lot of the bruising was more recent, a few just starting to form, so the cream would work fine. But some of it was older and had more of an ashen tone. Those would be tricky to treat, as they would require a lot more long-term care. He dabbed on some of the ointment from the tub and rubbed it in, careful not to put too much pressure. You visibly relaxed, feeling like jelly under his touch.

Once he was sure he had gotten every single bruise, he tugged your clothes back down.

“I think you should stay over tonight.” He concluded, putting the first aid kit back in the general area it had been in. You drowsily agreed, your eyelids already drooping. Neither of you were eager to get back to your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, you decided, telling Percy as such. You’d put up with him for way too long. You would break up with him officially the next day, and tell him to pack everything up and get the hell out of your apartment and out of your life. A weight lifted off your chest at the thought, the pressure that had been built up over two years suddenly dissipating.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Percy had started to make his way out of his room, muttering something about sleeping on the couch. Before he could get a hand on the door, you caught his sleeve and gently pulled him back to you. You didn’t want to be alone after the night you’d had. And, to be a bit more honest, you wanted to be around him. You wanted him to stay.

“Or… you could just sleep with me.”

Percy’s face turned bright red and you realized how that sounded, sputtering out a few sentences of ‘literally sleeping together’ and ‘didn’t mean it like that’ before giving up and just pulling him down next to you. The two of you got settled under the sheets on opposite ends, which didn’t really do much because Percy’s bed had a single-size mattress. Eventually, though, the two of you moved into a cuddling position to avoid dangling off the sides.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, snuggling closer to him and making his heart skip one or two beats. “Me staying over, I mean.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, so you can’t really make it any worse. I think you’re helping, actually,” he replied. “So no, I don’t.” He felt you nod slightly.

“Thanks for everything.” You whispered, hugging him tight. He couldn’t see your face, but he knew by the way your arms slackened and your breathing evened out that you drifted off immediately after.

That was when it hit him.

He was in bed.

With a girl.

And not just any girl, either.

He was in the same bed as you, his best friend, who he had been holding back feelings for, for as long as he’d known you. And you were cuddled up to him, the way all those couples that died really early in all the scary movies his mom loved to watch. It made his heart beat a little faster. A lot faster, actually.

The couple part, that is, not the dying early part.

No, no, no, no. No. This was not the time. If he were to tell you how he felt about you, he would wait until you were healed, mentally and physically.

He hoped that day would come sooner rather than later. He’d help you get there if you’d let him.

His eyelids slowly got heavier and heavier until they closed completely. He hoped his mom wouldn’t be too surprised and scream when she walked in her son’s room and found that you had just magically appeared in his bed.

“For the record,” he murmured, finally feeling the clutches of sleep dragging him down into the abyss. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world…”

I’d give you mine, if you want, he wanted to add, but those words could wait until another day.

[lilac-hecox]

Ian & Anthony - ianthony - Funeral

For @arlekqin

--

“Can you believe we pulled that off?” Ian asks, sighing as he leans back against the smooth black of the church pew.

They’ve rented them and still have until tomorrow before they have to be returned, but Ian let the cast and crew go for the night, opting to let them celebrate and come in a little earlier tomorrow to clean up the funeral set.

“Yeah,” Anthony asks, gingerly fixing the delicate black lace of his glove, “I can’t believe they bought it.”

Ian looks at his best friend and he smiles. Anthony smiles back, and now, with it just being the two of them here on the set of Anthony’s funeral, Anthony doesn’t have to try so hard, to pretend, or hold back. He blinks and Ian notices when Anthony’s eyes grow white, that milky, unnatural fog to them.

“At least your magic held out during the funeral,” Ian says. “God, I can’t imagine what would have happened if you shifted into demon form in the middle of it.”

“Are you kidding? People would have loved it. They’d wonder how we did it. The whole internet would have been talking,” Anthony says.

So much of him is the same, Ian notes, but at the same time, so much is different since he died and came back again. The eyes are one thing. Then there’s the magic, nothing too powerful, nothing like a storybook, but he has this dark magic flowing through him that comes with the territory, being resurrected demonic style. It’s the same magic he uses to conceal himself while around anyone else but Ian.

To everyone else, Anthony’s death was a joke, a production, fake.

It’s only Ian that knows the truth.

Because it was Ian who brought him back.

It was Ian who found the book, who drew the summoning circle in dark red paint on the wood floor of the Pressalike home office. It was Ian who murmured the words he needed to say to bring his best friend back from the clutches of death.

Really, it was the least Ian could do, he was the one who killed him during their Food Battle after all.

So, now, he’s got his best friend back but in a very undead and demon sort of form and though physically Anthony is not himself, what with the foggy white eyes, the sharp teeth, black claws, the horns that jut from the wave of dark curls on his head, in every other way, he’s still Anthony.

“So, we missed a great opportunity,” Ian jokes.

Anthony laughs, his mouth opening, allowing Ian to see all those pointed teeth. Once he’s quieted down, Anthony leans against Ian, resting his cheek against Ian’s shoulder. Ian, still in his priestly get-up, and Anthony still dressed in his own funeral attire, meet, one supporting the other. Ian rests the side of his head against Anthony’s.

They had told each other they loved each other tonight and Ian had meant it. He knew he loved Anthony when Anthony left the first time around. He knew he loved him even more when he died, and he knew he loved him fully and unending when he dabbled in the dark arts to bring him back.

It is a mutual agreement between the two, Ian knows. Nothing can separate them, not life, not death, nothing. Not anymore, not ever again.

“Now, we just have to figure out how to actually bring you back to life,” Ian says with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Anthony says, “not that being a demon is all bad.”

“Yeah, but I hate lying to everyone,” Ian says, “it makes me anxious.”

“I get it. We’ll figure it out. Honestly, we probably need to loop Amanda and Damien in on this. This kind of seems right up their alley.”

“Good point. Lets keep that as one of our options.”

Ian feels Anthony nod, “Will do.”

Eventually, they need to get up and go home. Home being the Pressalike house where they film their sketches because Anthony can really only go three places, either the Smosh Office, The Pressalike house, or Ian’s house, and Ian doesn’t really know why it’s only those three places, maybe something to do with he energy he left there, what he put into those spaces, but it’s where Anthony needs to be, like his form is bound to one of the three locations at any given time.

So, they need to go ‘home’ but right now it’s nice to sit in the quiet of the set together, basking in all they’ve achieved, while simultaneously wondering where to go next and how exactly to get there.

[forever-rogue]

taking peter to ice skating!! imagine the reader used to take lessons before and wants to bring him to the skating rink to try it out, and he thinks he would wing it bc of his Spidey reflexes but it's the opposite 😭

AN |  Man, this turned into a whole thing but it’s soft!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Wow,” you hadn’t realized that you’d stopped walking until Peter almost crashed into you. You were too enamored with watching the lightly falling snow, a layer of which was already glittering on the ground. The entire park looked like a magical winter wonderland and you were almost positive that you’d never seen anything more beautiful - well besides maybe the boy that was curiously looking at you, “it’s beautiful.”

“What?” he asked softly as he followed your line of sight, a smile on his face as he watched you. There were soft snowflakes coating your hair and he wanted nothing more than to brush them away, “the snow?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded  before looking back at him, “I’ve never seen snow before.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised in surprise, causing you to nod sheepishly.

“We didn’t have snow in California. At least not where I’m from,” you reminded him. You’d only moved to New York a few months ago, and Peter had become your neighbor and closest friend. And crush…but he didn’t need to know that now or ever. Instead you smiled softly and found yourself looking away from his soft eyes, “this is all new to me.”

“Well, I’m honored to spend your first New York Winter with you,” you felt his hand brush against yours, which sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. You wanted nothing more than to have him take your hand in his, “I’ll make sure you experience only the finest things, m’lady.”

You laughed at the silly dork, shaking your head in amusement. You really liked him and even if nothing happened between the two of you besides friendship, you would be happy with that too, “thanks, Pete. I hope you know you’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” his smile was too pretty as he slowly pulled his scarf off and moved to wrap it around your neck. You froze at the intimate gesture, trying not to panic at the feeling of the warm fabric around your neck, and the fact that his smell was overwhelming in all the best ways, “I happen to love spending time with you. You are my friend in case you haven’t realized.”

“I love spending time with you too,” you promised softly, your voice almost inaudible and if Peter hadn’t had his enhanced senses, he might not have heard it. But he also heard the way your heart rate picked up, “I’m very lucky that of all the places I could have moved into, I moved across the hall from you.”

“That goes both ways,” the two of you looked at each with sweet, shy smiles before you looked away and cleared your throat. There were so many moments when you wished you were just a bit braver, just had a moment of brilliant confidence and found it within yourself to tell him how you felt. But you also didn’t want to risk your friendship with him, that wasn’t worth it. Instead you scanned the area before finding a small coffee shop tucked away, “wanna go get a hot chocolate, Pete?”

“As long as there’s marshmallows and whipped cream,” his smile was a thing of ethereal beauty and you found yourself just staring at him with a lovesick little smile, “come on!”

He looped his arm through yours, not letting you say anything otherwise. Not that you would have complained. Never. Not with Peter Parker.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You grew nervous as you knocked on his door, not even having texted to see if he was home. The little idea that had become a brilliant idea - at least in your mind - came over you all at once and you’d practically run over to him. After a few moments he slowly opened the door, a smile stretching across his face as he realized it was you. 

“Hi Peter,” your voice was soft enough that it made his knees weak. He opened the door a little further and your heart dropped into your stomach when you spotted the pretty girl sitting at the small kitchen table. Oh. He’d never mentioned a girlfriend before but you shouldn’t have been surprised - he was the total package after all. She had pretty auburn hair and bright eyes, and even offered you a small wave. She radiated kindness and you couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her.

“Hey,” he looked between the two of you and pointed over his shoulder, “MJ and I were just about to order some pizza and watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”

“N-no,” you shook your head and took a step back. Did he really think you wanted to third-wheel? Ugh, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have texted first, ‘m sorry. I’ll umm…see you around, I guess.”

“Wait,” he reached for your wrist but you were faster and managed to pull out of his touch, “what’s up? Did you need something?”

“No,” you shook your head, “nothing at all.”

You didn’t even give him the opportunity to say anything before you returned to your own apartment, softly closing the door behind you and locking it. You leaned against it for a moment, trying to keep from crying. It was stupid - you felt stupid. Peter was just a friend, and you knew that…but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking. 

Peter remained in his doorway as he listened to you, your heartbeat erratic and he was positive that he heard your sniffles. He went back inside and let out a low groan before rubbing a tired hand over his face. 

Mary Jane Watson gave Peter a hard stare before shaking her head. He held up his hand, trying to keep her from saying anything as he sat down across from her. But he knew her better than that, and she knew he knew, “that was her?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before laying his head on the table and banging it lightly, “I fucked that up now.”

“She’s really pretty,” she confessed as Peter’s cheeks grew pink, “and she’s clearly into you too, Pete! How could you even question that? It’s so obvious - you really should just make your move and ask her out.”

“She looked more like she hated me.”

“That’s because she was upset.”

“Upset? Why?”

“She came here to talk to you and then saw me and suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to talk to you,” MJ explained as he tried to follow. He was a genius, a literal genius, but still so clueless when it came to dating and feelings, “she probably thought we’re dating and that you didn’t tell her you had a girlfriend when you’ve probably been acting all in love with her.”

“Oh. Oh?”

“Yes,” she insisted firmly, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of his, “Pete, I love you, you know that. But you need to tell her, or you’re going to lose her. I’m not saying you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man, yet, but you have to tell her how you feel at the very least. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since meeting her - don’t throw away something that could be amazing just because you’re nervous.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, knowing that she was right. He’d always loved MJ for how honest and pragmatic she was. They’d made a good couple, he had to admit, but they just weren’t the right ones for each other. He felt like he was starting to see why…he’d met you, “I-I’ll tell her. I have to.”

“Good,” she grinned, “now hurry up and order pizza, I’m starving.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were just about to go to bed when a knock came at your door. It was late and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors, which caused you to grow worried. You went to the door and looked through the peephole, and almost groaned when you saw it was the girl from earlier. MJ he had called her.

You opened the door reluctantly and tried to muster up a smile, “hey - MJ, right?”

“Yeah,” she held out her hand as you shook and gave her your name, “look, this is probably not my place to say, but I just wanted to let you know that Pete and I are just friends. We dated for a bit when we were teenagers, but that was all. He’s…very special, which I’m sure you already know. He’s told me a lot about you-”

“He has?!”

“He has,” she promised, “and you sound just as wonderful too. He’s not always the best with….getting his feelings out there, but he really cares about you, just so you know. You’re very important to him.”

“Oh,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, your face warming up, “he’s….I like him too.”

“Good,” she smiled softly, a knowing little smile on her face, “I just wanted to make sure you knew. I know how it could seem…and if you ever want to grab a coffee or something just text me. It’s always nice to have a new friend.”

She passed you a post-it with her and number on it, and you gently took it from her. Alright, you liked her too. It really would have been impossible to like the redhead, “yeah. That would be really nice, MJ. I’ll text you.”

“Great!” she waved before taking a step towards the elevator. She wasn’t spending the night -  a good sign that they weren’t dating and she hadn’t lied. Not that you thought she would but still, you wanted to guard your heart as much as possible, “have a good night!”

“You too,” you waved as you closed the door after her. 

Maybe not all was lost just yet. Maybe there was hope after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite MJ's assurances that she and Peter weren't dating, you still avoided him for close to a week. You were embarrassed and didn't want to admit to him that you immediately jumped to conclusions and almost broke your own heart over nothing. Pathetic.

It had been tricky as the two of you worked the same hours, him at some fancy science lab and you at a law firm, and usually ran into each other at some point. But you'd left early and stayed a little late to avoid him. Absolutely childish. Almost as much as ignoring his texts and calls. You knew you couldn't - and wouldn't - avoid him forever but…yeah. You'd gotten into your own head.

But Peter had made up your mind for you. You'd been sitting in your office, staring at your computer screen but unable to concentrate. A knock came at your door, followed by the receptionist looking at you nervously.

"There's someone here to see you," she almost whispered, "a Peter Parker?"

"Oh," would it be too dramatic if you jumped out the window? A tenth floor fall wouldn't be too bad, right? Maybe Spider-Man would save you… "he's my friend. You can send him in."

A few tense moments passed before Peter was leaning against your doorframe, "hey."

"Hi Peter," you motioned for him to come, watching curiously as he closed the door and sat across the desk from you, "what's up?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He teased softly and you couldn't help but relax at the fact that he wasn't mad, "what's been up? You've been avoiding me."

Did he…sound hurt? You were almost positive that he did. You hated seeing a frown on his handsome face; you especially didn’t want to be the cause of it. Waving a hand nonchalantly, you tried to okay it off, "I haven't been….just busy…?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he raised an eyebrow as he watched you flounder. He could feel your heart beating fast as you shrugged, "did I do something?"

"No, no, no," you shook your head as you leaned forward, wanting to reach over and touch him, "its not you. Seriously. It was just…me."

"Are you alright?" you could see the concern in his pretty brown eyes as he tried to get a read on you, “everything’s okay?”

"Of course," you promised, "I didn't mean to worry you, Pete."

"Good," he visibly relaxed as you couldn't help but smile at the boy. He was so gentle, sweet with every word and gesture that made you feel like you were on a sugar high, "I was wondering…umm, are you free tonight?"

"Yeah…"

"Great," he almost bounced out of the chair with excitement, "can I pick you up at six?"

"What are we doing?"  your eyes grew wide, both with excitement and nervous anticipation. More importantly, you were glad to have him back in your life; you’d missed him more than you thought, “Pete?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m suddenly wondering if I should say no…”

“Say yes,” his smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh at your favorite dork. Peter had missed your laugh so much. 

“Fine! Yes, Peter Parker, I trust you.”

“Great,” he jumped up in excitement, “it’s a date! I’ll see you tonight at six.”

“Tonight at six,” you wondered if he realized what he had just said as he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek. He almost skipped out, giving you a small wave before he disappeared and you were staring after him. You touched your cheek where your skin had been blessed with his lips and sighed softly. 

He had to know what he was doing, right? He was a smart man, he had to know. You thought back to what MJ said and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all true. Maybe you’d find out later than night.

“Just a friend, huh?” you heard the little giggle from outside your office and groaned lightly, but there was still a big smile on your face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter was knocking at your door at six on the dot and you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked to the door, opening it slowly. He was on the other side with a big smile on his face and a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. As soon as he saw you, he grew speechless, “hi Pete.”

“Hi,” he choked out after a few moments of staring at you in awe, holding out the flowers to you, “there are for you. Y-you look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you took the flowers - a mixture of tulips and daisies - and gently clutched them to your chest. You looked him over before shyly admitting, “you look good too.”

“Flatterer,” he teased as you reached for his hand and pulled him inside. You went to the kitchen and quickly pulled out a vase, filling it with water, a splash of vinegar, and sugar. He watched you work in silence, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart. 

“So, Parker, what are we doing?” you turned to him and couldn’t quite place what he could be up to from his outfit. He was dressed normal, but still managed to look so good, “are you planning on kidnapping me? Is that what all this is about? You’re some kind of-”

“Alright, alright, overdramatic,” he snorted in amusement, “first things first - dinner. There’s a good Italian place nearby and I thought we could go there. Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t even ask if you like Italian but we can always do something else. Ugh, I didn’t even think to-”

“Relax Pete,” how was he supposed to relax when you’d put your hand on his arm like that, “I love Italian.”

“Oh good,” he let out a small sigh of relief, “the rest is still a surprise.”

“Alright,” you agreed as you reached for your scarf and pulled it on, “I’m ready if you are.”

“Ready!”

You’d had dinner with Peter on many occasions, but there was something about tonight that was just so different. But…not in a negative way. It felt right and like suddenly everything was falling into place.

When dinner was done, he took you to get ice cream because even though it was December, there was never a wrong time for ice cream. At least according to Peter. And you weren't inclined to disagree. 

But there was one more little thing he wanted to share with you. He reached for your hand and started pulling you in the direction of the park, causing you to laugh as you almost had to jog to keep up with him. He didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the giant skating rink that had been built in the middle of the park, magical and glittering under all the evening lights. 

“Pete?”

“I told you I was going to spend your first New York winter with you,” he explained as your eyes lit up with pure happiness, “and what’s more New York in the winter than ice skating?” he pointed to the rink behind you as you almost jumped into his arms.

“You’re perfect,” you couldn’t stop yourself before you realized what you had said, “I mean, umm…that’s perfect. I’d love to! I haven’t gone in years.”

“I haven’t gone ever,” he confessed as you looked at him with wide eyes. He was Spider-Man after all, not that you knew that just yet. He had superhuman reflexes and abilities, surely he could handle ice skating. How hard could it be? You couldn’t help but shake your head affectionately at the boy, "it's not rocket science - how hard could it be?"

"I mean…I'm willing to find out," you reached for his hand and threaded your fingers through his, causing both of your hearts to skip a beat. You felt so giddy and happy as you pulled him towards the rink, “come on then, show me what you’ve got!”

He wasted no time in following, 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” you had your skates on and stood up towards the entrance to step on the ice when you saw that Peter was taking a suspiciously long time to stand up and follow. You walked back towards him and held your hand out. He looked at it and huffed playfully as he took it and you helped him to his feet, “I’ve got you, Pete.”

“I know,” he promised softly as you walked onto ice and took a moment to get your balance. Once you did, you dropped his hand and skated a few feet away as you motioned for him to follow.

“Come on,” you motioned for him to follow and he reluctantly did so, wobbly and shaky on his feet as he tried his best to keep his balance. He did not like the feeling of being on the ice…to him it felt so unnatural…apparently spidey skills didn’t translate to ice skating, “you’ve got this, Pete!”

“I don’t think I do,” he groaned, already feeling himself slipping, but he leaned forward and eventually made it into your arms, almost taking you down with him. But somehow you managed to keep both of you stable and upright. His cheeks were tinged bright pink, but you were simply giggling at him, “sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” you were to keep your cool at him giving you a sweet new nickname, “you didn’t knock us over so I’d say you were doing okay! Just take my hand and I’ll lead.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you put your arms on his strong biceps and stabilized him before taking his hand again. His grip on yours was very tight but you enjoyed the feeling of his large, warm hand dwarfing yours. His touch was surprisingly soft.

You pushed off and pulled him along with you, moving at a space that was slow enough for him to keep up. After skating around the rink a few times, he slowly started to get his stride, just like the little genius he was. Before you knew it, you were talking to each other, over the soft holiday music that was playing, giggling and laughing. It was so easy to spend time with Peter; he was so kind and funny, and everything between the two of you felt right. You weren’t surprised that you’d slowly fallen in love with him.

Holy shit. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and caused you to stop suddenly. Peter had been talking and didn’t see that you had stopped, knocking into you, and causing both of you to tumble onto the ice. You made a sound of surprise as Peter caught you, taking the brunt of the hit with you landing on top of him.

“Are you alright?’ you both asked at the same time, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I’m alright,” you promised softly, aware of the closeness of your bodies. You couldn’t help but brush a few rogue strands of hair out of his face, “thank you for saving me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he keened into your touch as you let your hand rest on his cheek, “just doing my job, and keeping you safe. What happened though? You just stopped…”

“I…” how were you supposed to tell him that you came to the conclusion that you were in love with him? You faltered for a moment before shrugging innocently, “just zoned out, I guess. Sorry Pete.”

“Hey, no need to apologize - as long as you’re okay,” you nodded and the two of you looked at each other in reverent silence for a few moments. His honey brown eyes flicked to your lips for just a moment before he moved to sit up. This time it was his turn to brush your hair behind your ear, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” it was a soft response that had his heart almost hammering against his ribcage. No one had made him feel like this before, it all felt so new and foreign and overwhelming at the same time. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours before you felt him smiling against your lips. 

He finally leaned in and kissed you, softly and sweetly, almost as if he was afraid he might break you. When he pulled back he looked at you shyly and you simply reached for his scarf and pulled him back to your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses. 

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but you were quickly interrupted by an annoyed little voice, “can you guys move? You’re in the way and you’re being gross!”

You ducked your face and rested it on his shoulder before you both laughed. He gave the young girl a thumbs up, “we were just leaving. Sorry, kid.”

“Whatever old man,” she skated away as Peter playfully scoffed at her. 

“I’m not old,” he insisted as you looked at him in amusement, “I am not. Mid twenties is not old!”

“I know,” you kissed his cheek before slowly standing up and holding your hands out for him to take, “come on Pete.”

He took your hand and followed you off the ice and back onto the solid ground that wouldn’t cause him to slip and slide to his death. You looked at him with a small frown, not wanting the night to come to a close just yet, “hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…I guess we should get home then…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then come on,” he quickly pulled off the skates and you followed suit, watching him with eager eyes, “the night is still young!”

“Where are we going?” he was already grabbing your hand again, “Pete?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winked, “but one more thing first.”

“What - oh,” and he was kissing you again, his hands gently holding your face as you almost melted into him.

“That,” he grinned as he pulled away, leaving you flushed and wildhearted, “come on, it’s adventure time!”

[gabessquishytum]

Seeing saytr dreamling fics in AO3 made me nostalgic for the original saytr dream ask someone (yan anon, maybe?) and its immaculate vibes. Here’s hoping someone does a saytr dream fic too?? He deserves one too!

After his first…encounter with Dream, Hob knows he should move out of the forest but he’s tried to leave and there is something wrong with the road. It never takes him out of the forest but loops back to his own cabin. No matter what he does, he can’t seem to leave. Dream doesn’t want him to.

But food shows up on his doorstep anyway, fruits, vegetables and freshly killed animals from the forest. So hob knows the saytr knows where he is. He knows he is the reason hob can’t leave. In his feverish, hot dreams, he seems Dream’s wild animal grin, his glittering eyes and feels his massive c*ck ramming into hob’s arse again and again… and he wakes up hard and aching.

Hob waits, anxious, feeling watched all the time. He feels somewhat safe in his cabin…

Until one night he dreams that he’s back in the clearing with the saytr.

“Miss me?” Dream purrs and tears his pajamas off. Hob scrambles to get away but dream just pins him down and starts fucking him. Only this time dream isn’t fucking his arse. Dream’s pounding into a brand new pussy Hob never had before.

He cries and struggles but dream is so much stronger than he is, and faster too. Even if hob gets away, dream just treats it like a little game of tag, and pounces on him again, grinning like he’s having the time of his life. And dream feels so good that eventually hob just begs for more through his sobs.

Dream fucks his new pussy all night, against a tree, on his knees, on his back, even his mouth, for variety.

Hob wakes up in the morning, relieved it was just a dream. But he’s naked and all sticky. Somehow he’s covered in hickeys and bruises and cum…and he is deliciously sore, aching for something to fill a nonexistent hole…

OOOOH yes. You can tell how behind I am on answering these but YES we were indeed blessed with some excellent satyr Hob content a little while ago!!!

I also really love possessive, magical, low-key scary but extremely sexy satyr Dream. Especially with dream sex as well!!!!

Poor Hob, missing the pussy that he never actually had! He stumbles out of his cabin half dressed, sweating and aching, and goes on this half angry, half horny rampage through the forest to look for Dream. He keeps catching glimpses in the foliage, but every time he makes a grab for him he comes up empty handed, and all he can hear is laughter. Seems like he's much better at being prey than predator.

And thanks to Dream’s magic, he just ends up going in circles, ending up back at his cabin each time. Hob is exhausted and panting and he slumps down in the clearing outside his house, desperately rutting himself against the grass. He's so humiliated by his neediness, but he just can't stop!

And perhaps Dream lazily appears at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree and just watching his favourite pet human as he exposes himself for the world. Humans are so boring but this one is just delightful.

"Did you enjoy my gift, darling?" He purrs. Hob just whines and keeps rubbing himself against the ground. He aches inside. He wants his fucking pussy back! "I can give it back to you, my sweet. Would you like that?"

Hob has no clue what Dream even means, but even so he's spreading his legs and shuffling towards Dream through the grass. Dream’s flaming eyes glow, and his beautiful midnight black hair stands at an end with what looks like excitement. Hob’s heart hammers and he's deeply terrified, but more than that - he needs something inside him. Anything.

And Dream looks so willing to give him whatever he needs... perhaps a little magic to permanently make his cock into a pretty little cunt? He could fuck Hob until he's forever changed. It would be so worth the effort.

[djljpanda]

Hydrogen Anon, I know I'm back rather quickly, but I'm gonna talk about Creme Republic in the Self Aware AU because it's my favourite location in the game.

Some Cookie Odyssey Spoilers--

The Creme Republic would probably first take notice of Gingerbrave and company sometime around Chapter 10, possibly before, seeing as at the start of Cookie Odyssey, it's established they had tabs on the Ancient Heroes. Though the small group of people with access to this information would all be rather confused..

How are a group of young teens with a thief no less, able to go to all these locations and manage this?? So they keep even closer eyes on the group, maybe even sending some cookies to watch them in their travels. This is when they find out about MC, which is seemingly this mysterious sentient being, hiding away, yet advising them every time they get into a fight..

Weird.

I also imagine that if MC ever ends up in Earthbread by some ridiculous circumstance, this would probably be a very, not bad per se.. (there is duskgloom and beast yeast after all). But just not great place to land in. You're in a city with no money, and people are giving you weird looks because you clearly aren't from here and don't know where you're going.

(Going thru some characters) - beware very ooc.

I feel like Clotted Cream would just be completely thrown for a loop, it kind of made sense until he was told that the cookies had never actually heard this figure "speak", MC just guided them into a battle formation and then they'd win. It sounds completely ludicrous. I think that CCC wouldn't suspect MC to be a higher power initially, but would suspect MC, whatever they were, had some level of strategic genius to lead a group that effectively, all while never actually being seen.

Financier and Madeleine don't initially think MC is a celestial or anything, that's jumping the gun a little, in fact when the Council of Heroes happens they find MC a little unnerving, MC has eyes everywhere, nobody can see them, and they never say anything. MC just keeps watching. By the time Ch.2 and 3 roll around they get convinced though. MC literally guided all of them, helping in fighting the masked cookies, as well as defending the republic when DE attacked, when they finally witness MCs bizarre guidance in person they walk away with a really different perception, MC being some kind of celestial isn't completely impossible.

When news of the weird entity reaches the elders, they've all got radically different perceptions of MC, (I won't go thru them all it will take forever) - I think Caviar wouldn't care in the slightest what they were, if they really are some higher power, and so far, mute, they probably won't be telling anyone anytime soon, speculation is fine, but the more important issue is if they're a threat or not, and so far, despite their suspicious demeanor they haven't *really* done anything bad.

Honestly I have no idea where Oyster would stand on this, wherever she stands though, she probably keeps her opinion very secretive, though. Or holds off on making assumptions until they have more information.

I'll do Expresso too, screw it. He subscribes to the belief that you're a cookie with incredibly powerful magic, plain and simple. (I could also see him not caring either, but in this case I imagine curiousity getting the better of him).

Though--out of the lot he finds MC the most unnerving, for exactly that reason. If they are a cookie, why do they never show themselves or speak, even in emergencies??

I hope you liked my *very* out of character rambles about the Creme Republic, use these HC how you want, they aren't very good lmfao.

Hello again Hydrogen, welcome back.

I do believe that CCC are very confused about Mc and want to find some understanding not liking how they know nothing of them.

I think when Mc first landed in Earthbread I felt like everyone at first could see them but for right now so unknown things happen where they are not invisible but only those they chose can see them.

And I think that the Mc can talk but when that unknown thing happened it kind of messed up their way of speaking. Kind of like tinkerbell where all you hear are bells when she speaks or they don't need to say anything but yet they still know what they are saying, or some form of sign language.

Just imagine those cookies shocked and confused when they see Mc leading them to battle. But I think Mc really cares about the main squad as to them they are also confused about this new place.

But I do think after Mc helps out with fighting the masked cookies more about their existence started to be talked about.

I do like your self aware hc better than what I can do, does make me want to write oneshots.

[nomsfaultau]

First ask since the daily ask ended hehe

If you had to make fault into a time loop story, what time period would you choose for each character and how would it go?

Clarification. You get to choose a time period (ex. Hour, day, couple of days, event, week) that each character has to repeat for over and over until they get out of it somehow. You get to choose from everything that has happened in the character's lives so far, whether it be in text or just living in your head. For clarification the character from that point in time has to repeat it, not the current character getting teleported into the past. And you can choose the rest of the circumstances for the characters, how the time loop works, how to break it, etc etc.

I just got this idea spontaneously and got curious. (Psssttt I was watching a In stars and time video essay)

Technically the amnestic arc is reverse ground hog day for Phil lmao. 

Anyway I thought the 1st part worked best for this ask considering it has a very defined start (Tubbo captured) and end (they escape). Since we don’t see anyone but clingy duo during that time, and because Tommy has limited capabilities, I elected to shove the time loop on Tubbo given information gathering and ability to effect things outside their cell. So the moment Tubbo is carried outside, they wake up smoke drowsy and half dead in their cell. Or say a month, since otherwise it could be years or lifetimes between the loop restarting given difficulties escaping. 

Tubbo naturally assumes the way to get out is to escape without anyone being killed. This is their chance to do it right. So simple things like asking the Farmer for permission to eat the potatoes to prevent a slaughter. At least…until armed with hind sight Tubbo is able to realize that’s The Blade. And they still have that trauma from losing their legs even if it’s now been undone, are terrified of The Blade above all else. It’s going to be many many loops before they can properly talk to him, and maybe could eventually have an easier time getting to bond with him, particularly with the lack of intense pain and the investigation done into trying to figure out how to prevent attacks. Cause just have Tommy Collect them before hand or it’s fine. Or they’ll have Rhodes adopt Jasmine it probably counts and would be permanent. Now. This would have to be a topic I handle very delicately, since the ‘magical un-do button’ on injury/disability is a very ableist trope, one which I haven’t always handled with grace. Things like erasing disabled representation at the very least, and at most catastrophic could imply things like ‘in the GOOD timeline Tubbo isn’t disabled because they did everything right this time’ which is pretty icky to me for the implying disability as a punishment/intolerable outcome angle. Idk how I’d try to go about it though. 

Also they’d try to get to Tommy as soon as possible. Small problem on that front: Tommy will not leave his cell unless compelled through the sirenic properties of an invitation to join the Hive. And Tubbo is hella traumatized from Rosalind, so that probably wouldn’t happen for a loop or two. But they need Tommy so so badly. Repeatedly asking Tommy and waiting for that rejection is probably painful as hell, but probably more in the cringe way as time goes on. Since originally Tubbo did it very much out of survival desperation and changeling instinct, which is embarrassing to reenact. 

Tubbo would also like immediately try to figure out the deal with UnCollection. Maybe not necessarily like trying to stop it since they think Philza is awful (though not terrified of him like they are post amnestic arc which won’t happen until time loop is broken) and Tommy is better off without him. But when Phil is like immediately ‘what no I would never’ and then Tommy is UnCollected anyway and he doesn’t know what’s happening, then they’d do investigated the 2-4th loops and figure out it was Foundation plot. While still shaded by murder from the Hallway and escape, they’d begin to find him a very useful source of information and strategy. Plus he is like. An actual source of good mental health advice unlike Tommy, and starts feeling like an emotional support unlike Tommy who is more like clinging onto a fellow drowning person. Might actually come out of it neutral to pro Philza. 

The real question is…does ALL of Tubbo remember? Because presumably you’d want Rhodes and Jasmine aware of what happened, and all the bees to be on the same page. Which leads me to believe that Rosalind would still be part of the hivemind. A separate body, somewhat, but still Tubbo. Which could mean that both Tubbo could take control of Rosalind’s body, and she could take control of theirs. Potentially? But they definitely can communicate telepathically. 

Because I like that death march for both of them, of knowing this ends in her brutal death, of knowing this ends in the shattering of their morals. They can’t ever fully undo it, the mistake irreversible, a permanent stain that both have to live with. The horror of Tubbos’ biggest regret born from survivalistic terror, having to ask if they’d make that choice again and again without the pressure of panic. A conscious and controlled choice to destroy someone, not driven by instinct and desperation.

Technically, this gets into the slightly nebulous territory of if Rosalind is even part of the Foundation at the start of the loop, since her first day of (interacting with the anomalies at least) is a week after Tubbo is captured. From what I can tell she joined willingly as opposed to the more standard ‘oh you’ve been traumatized by an anomaly hire time’ approach. This could mean she simply…never steps foot in the Foundation again. Walks away from Omelas as it were. For a couple loops that’s what she does at least, but Tubbos’ line of what happens to us if all the good people leave? would haunt her uncontrollably, as would their determination to rescue everyone plus constant appeals to her. Rosalind would willingly return to the Foundation and begin helping under the promise that Tubbo won’t kill her.

And I can’t imagine the look on Tubbos’ face when they realize they could have survived the beheading. That Rosalind didn’t have to die. Cycle after cycle of cutting off pieces of themselves over and over, pushing themselves to last long enough to make it to the reset no matter what they have to sacrifice. The long term effects would be so unique. Do they stop using their left hand if it’s gone more often than not? Does the phantom pain remain even if the limb is still there? 

It’s poking around in information she shouldn’t be that gets Rosalind Keter duty with Tubbo, and early loop investigations would keep this part consistent as they try to build info. With better handling of Lawrence, Clingy Duo and Rosalind escape. Only for Tubbo to wake up again in the cell. 

Okay. So now they start trying to figure out how to get The Blade, Wilbur, Philza, Skeppy, Halo, and Charlie out without murder. Hella complicated but they could get very clever between small bees infiltrating everywhere seeing everything moving stuff around and having a Foundation employee working with them. They have a month and literally all the time in the world to figure it out. And then they get everyone out and wake up in the cell again. 

They get intensive about it. Running over schemes over and over because they and Rosalind can get obsessive about planning, and could get really perfectionist  with it. Could get to the point where they find a way to get everyone in the Foundation out. Probably convince Philza to help with it if they explain the ‘Tommy Collected us and it’s a time loop’ since he does have enough control to fight without deaths. Now he would be planning to come back later and raze it but they’d never find out because after years of loops and they finally break every single anomaly out and they. Wake. Up. In that cell again. Do it all again and Tubbo stays, Tubbo chooses to never step foot out even when everyone else is free because Tubbo above all places the collective above the individual.

Because my partner in crime decided Tubbos’ win condition: every last Foundation worker is dead. 

My partner in crime insisted that at some point in eternity Tubbo would start killing people, but believe me I wrote an entire play about the whole time loop serial killer thing and it takes a certain set of character flaws to get there. Tubbos’ flaws are literally exactly what it takes to not become a time loop serial killer. They are stubborn, and determined, and murder is what stuck them in the time loop in the first place by their logic. This is the chance to absolve their guilt if only they can get it right. The whole ‘fleeting pointlessness of human lives that are eventually replaced/reset’ doesn’t work with Tubbo because they’re literally made of bees that live a month, indistinguishable multitudes. The lives cannot lose value to Tubbo, ESPECIALLY as they get to know each one so painfully intimately. 

Tubbo never escapes the time loop. They can’t. Tubbo is self sacrificial to a fault and cares far more for the collective over an individual freedom. And so much like in that original loop so long ago, they fall into disassociations and escapism, each loop fading into one another, indistinguishable fog blurring everything into nothing. 

Cool Anyways we decided if The Blade was in a time loop only the voices would know, and The Blade would be freaked out after a couple hundred loops where the voices gather enough cohesion to just fully speak in unison complex precognitive sentences. They straight up unionize in order to escape the time loop and The Blood God becomes obsessed with replicating that cohesion bc man loves the power of team work. Very much giving infinite monkeys type writers situation. We tried to make Philza’s win condition literally just not torturing Webb to death for one single loop but he’d wait however many loops it took for the Collected Covenant reparation period to pass before he started enacting hellish revenge, so Webb would live the first few times and it wouldn’t work. Also if Tommy was in Tubbos’ time loop he deffo would find a way to kill everyone and hate himself about it. Like he straight up tells subsumed Rosalind to her face she’s lucky she was dealing with Tubbo cause he would’ve just murdered her.