#but then I drew them and got really excited and then you asked and evidently got excited enough to type this whole thing lol

[the-mountain-flower]

I WANNA HEAR MORE ABOUT UR AURORA OCS THEY'RE SO COOL!!

AH!! 😃😁😁😁

OK SO,

Aimie (she/her) is young adult mostly-Unadapted Human with some elven ancestry, and the youngest of a not-rich-but-well-off family. She is adventurous and intelligent, yet clumsy and scatterbrained. She's an experimental researcher, and a dual mage with the ability to use Wind and Fire magic. She does a lot of travel, but she kind of has a talent for finding trouble and getting hurt. It's basically a miracle she's still alive, though only Siodha knows how (presumably).

Xynn (they/she) is a young adult coyote Shifter Ferin with Wind Elf heritage. She's frankly badass, and has picked up a lot of miscellaneous skills over the years of supporting themself and her younger sibling (he/him, early/mid teens, still coming up with a name for him... haven't found one that seems right yet), as they were both orphaned at a young age. Despite being extremely competent in most areas, they've had trouble finding work due to most people's treatment of Ferin.

When Aimie's parents (two dads btw) started looking for someone to hire to keep their daughter safe (and alive) on her travels, Xynn is the one they end up hiring. The pay is enough for Xynn to send back to their sibling, who is now old enough that Xynn's job taking her out of town for days or sefs on end isn't a problem.

When Aimie found out about that, she was initially abrasive, insisting that she "doesn't need a babysitter!" but relents after her parents just to try it once and see how it works. After a couple attempts to lose Xynn during their first time traveling together, it became clear that she wasn't gonna get rid of them that easily. Well, they're not bad company, so it's not long before she gets used to it.

Xynn quickly finds out just how accident-prone Aimie really is, to the point where they become very familiar with where the first-aid kit in Aimie's travel bag is. They're also admittedly impressed with how willing and comfortable she is sleeping on the ground with nothing but a single blanket.

They really warm up to each other during an incident when Aimie is startled awake by a snake, and Xynn casually picks it up and assures that it's just a little grass snake and it's not venomous. Despite their attempts to hide it, Aimie learns that Xynn loves snakes. When Xynn starts to try and tone down their excitement, she insists that she doesn't mind one bit, and goes out of her way to make sure they know that she's not going to shame her for it or anything.

During this journey, they both end up infodumping to each other a lot. And when one does, the other listens intently. (ISTG so many of my original character romances consist of one infodumping while the other(s) listen with heart eyes.)

When she's back home, Aimie pleasantly surprises her parents with how cool she was with the new travel arrangement, and that she approves of Xynn coming with her regularly.

Xynn's little sibling asks if the new job is good, and she replies that yes, it is. And they think they like it quite a bit.

Perhaps due to extended amounts of time spent traveling together, perhaps because they genuinely enjoy each others' company, it's not long before they become really close friends.

Xynn quickly figures out her own feelings for their travel companion not long after they start turning into what she considers a problem. They try to distance herself emotionally for a bit, but fails to get their relationship back to what would be considered "professional". They consider quitting for a bit, but she really, really doesn't want to bc they really do like their adventures together. Eventually she makes peace (sort of) with the fact that yes, they're in love with her travel companion, but that nothing would come of it...

In contrast, Aimie doesn't really know when she started to fall for Xynn. She doesn't even realize it for a while, until one day she finally puts a name to her new feelings, but doesn't have the first clue as to how to handle it. She feels like acting on those feelings would be taking advantage of Xynn, especially since by now she knows how much they need this job, so she keeps quiet.

At this point Xynn's told Aimie a fair bit about their sibling, though she's never met him, and Xynn has expressed she doesn't feel comfortable with Aimie knowing where they live. She's not ashamed or hiding it, just doesn't want to show her the barely-held-together shack they call home. Until one day, when Xynn's sibling goes missing, and Xynn asks Aimie for help.

An investigation and a wind missive leads them to find that he has been kidnapped. Pro tip: don't piss off a badass and protective coyote-shifter, and a Wind and Fire mage with very little regard for her own safety. The kidnappers get their asses beat, and Xynn's sibling is brought to safety.

After the rescue, it becomes clear that their previous living situation isn't viable for them anymore. Aimie arranges for them to live with her family, insisting that it's really not a problem, and when Xynn mentions that's not part of the deal she made with Aimie's parents, Aimie insists that it would've been if they'd known how much Xynn and their sibling were really struggling. She brings it up with her parents who are hesitant at first, but do a complete 180 when Aimie tells them about how they were living before and about the kidnapping thing, and suddenly Xynn and her sibling have a new, better place to live. Xynn manages to wait until she and Aimie are alone before she finally breaks down, into a mess of tears and "thank you"s. Aimie tells her that, given how often Xynn has saved her ass during their travels, it's only fair.

It's not long after this, that they finally, finally, admit their feelings for each other.

Xynn and Aimie travel together as partners (also Xynn's position with Aimie's folks transfers from hired help, to basically family).

Fun tidbits:

Aimie's magic channels are unevenly sized, her Wind one is higher-capacity than her Fire one (which is fairly small). She's also come up with ways to make larger flames than is natural for her by getting creative with her combination of magic abilities. (She has definitely found an large, empty space with nothing flamable nearby to figure out how to create a small fire tornado. Yes, she did get burned. On the bright side, she learned that awesome new spell.)

Alongside her first-aid supplies, Aimie keeps a small Life lacrima in her travel bag for emergencies. She's had to use it less often when Xynn started traveling with her, both because they help prevent a number of accidents and because she can do first aid for Aimie when she can't do it for herself.

One time Xynn saved Aimie from getting bit by a venomous snake, but it resulted in them getting bit instead. When Aimie is taking care of the wound they reassure her that the poison won't be fatal, especially to a ferin, and she'll recover in no time and it'll be fine. Aimie asks how they're feeling, and at this point Xynn is comfortable enough with her, to admit that this is kind of the coolest thing to ever happen to them.

Xynn got a gift from Aimie that was a book she found about snakes. Xynn freaking loves it.

Aimie, affectionately: "where would I be without you?" / Xynn, equally affectionate: "dead, probably"

Aimie joins Xynn's sibling as the only ones allowed to cuddle coyote Xynn

[mapiforpresident]

Most Likely To

Alexia x reader

warnings: none

~~~

It was currently almost Valentine's day, so Barcelona was having all the team couples do some short interviews to post on the actual day.

Alexia was not a fan of this, but she saw that you were excited, she reluctantly agreed. She wanted to maintain her professional captain persona, but she also knew that it was important for people to see that she was also a normal person at the end of the day and that it was ok for her to be dating a woman.

~~~

"Hey, how was your interview," you asked Mapi and Ingrid as they walked out of the media room. They had their interview right before yours.

"It was really good we had to see who knew each other better and Ingrid won. I forgot her first pets name." Mapi told you. "I think you guys are doing the who is mostly likely to challange. I am excited to see if we learn anything new about big tough Ale over here that we didn't know." You laughed at this agreeing that you would make sure the fans learn how much of a softie Ale is for you.

~~~

You and Alexia then walked into the room as the media people explained how it would work and set up your mics. The interviewer then got started facing the camera, "Ok today we have special guests Alexia and Y/n. Today they will be playing the who is most likely to challange. They each have a paddle with their face on one side and the others face on the back. I will ask some questions and they have to show the face of who they think it fits better. At the end we also have a couple questions sent in by fans. Let's get started with the first question.."

"Ok we will start off very easy. The first question is who is most likely to forget their boots at home?"

You both immediately held up the side of the paddle with your face.

"I may have forgotten them before the champions league final. Luckily someone had an extra pair in my size. Ale always asks me three times if I have my boots now before we leave the house." You responded laughing towards the camera.

"She is very forgetful, she even forgot her passport before a game onetime and had to fly in the next day. I definitely made her run extra laps for that." You definitely gave Alexia a few heart attacks from all the times you forget things.

"Who is most likely to cry during a sad movie?" the interviewer queried with a grin.

You both exchanged a glance. You raised Alexia face as she reluctantly did the same. It was no secret to you or the team that Alexia had a soft spot for emotional films, often shedding a tear or two during particularly touching scenes.

As the interview progressed, the questions delved deeper into your relationship, sparking laughter and fond memories between you and Alexia.

The interviewer grinned as she posed the next question, her eyes flickering mischievously between you and Alexia. "Alright, who is most likely to hog the blankets in bed?"

You both hesitated for a moment, exchanging playful glances before simultaneously flipping the paddles to reveal the others face.

You chuckled, nudging Alexia playfully. "Come on, admit it. You're the blanket thief."

Alexia raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, please. You practically cocoon yourself in the blankets every night."

As the interview drew to a close, the final question sent in by fans brought a sense of warmth to the room. "Who is most likely to surprise the other with a romantic gesture?"

Without hesitation, you both raised your paddles, a shared smile of affection passing between you. Despite the playful teasing and occasional disagreements, there was no doubt that your love for each other ran deep, evident in the small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness that defined your relationship.

As the cameras stopped rolling, Alexia pulled you into a tender embrace, her voice soft with sincerity. "You know, despite my initial reservations, I'm glad we did this. It's nice to show the world a different side of us, to be able to share our love openly."

You returned her embrace, kissing her cheek lightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the woman standing before you. "I couldn't agree more, bebé."

The fans absolutely loved the video and seeing this more personal side of Alexia and seeing more into your relationship.

[skywalkerthrawn]

Please tell me all about the chiss beans you drew I must know EVERYTHING

YIPPIEEEEEEE THANK YOU FOR ASKING >:3 i've been going insane with the need to yap about them

so for starters, this is my boy Wyerik (full name Dauw'yer'ikun), my self insert oc-turned sw5e player character

he's from a small, insignificant family on ool. raised by his grandmother, he had a very nice childhood but now he yearns for adventure, excitement, romance and the unknown. loves experiments. also loves men.

and this is wyerik's best friend Zistral (Irizi'stra'lias), @luukeskywalker's character (i really need to draw him more)

he's a former sky-walker who regained his force abilities after order 66. he (somehow) has infinite patience for wyerik's nonsense, and despite going through The Horrors, he has so much love in his heart and tries his hardest to see the best in everyone. something something "you don't realize the violence it took to become this gentle". loves drinking swamp water. i would die for him.

and THIS *rapid heavy breathing* is Thevaro (Mitth'eva'roni), a campaign npc turned love interest turned BBEG

he's the son of an important chiss politician (she's also an npc in our campaign) and he thinks the best way to solve the issues in the chiss ascendancy is to make them and the grysks destroy each other completely. kind of a terrible political stance imo but what truly matters is that he's hot 🥰

at first he just causes minor disturbances but then he acquires ancient grysk force artifacts that fuck him up a lil (as evident by his appearance in the second image) and then he starts killing politicians and attacking chiss military bases

the moment he was introduced i went "oh? 👀" and made wyerik flirt with him every opportunity i got. needless to say it paid off because they did get together. and then went on a date to assassinate thurfian

i have half a post about wyerik and thevaro in my drafts so if there's interest in more details i might finish and post that too (lie. i'm gonna post it anyway even if there's no interest at all)

[sweetheartsnips]

Daddy Cool - Chapter 2: Norisuke Higashikata

NSFW!!! MINORS DNI

Summary: Norisuke feeds you melon parfait and then eats you. If you haven't had the pleasure of seeing said melon parfait before, I will chuck the link here.

Tags: soft dom vibes, age difference, spoon feeding, cunnilingus, nipple stuff, overstimulation (maybe?). I think my discussion of the parfait needs a warning in itself.

Words: 3k

Read on my ao3

For other chapters in this series please see my JoJo masterlist

A/N: I KNOW there are people out there that want this. Please tell me I am right. Even if not this is for me ok :'). If Norisuke has 100 fans I am one of them. If Norisuke has one fan it is me. If Norisuke has 0 fans, then I am dead.

The Higashikata Fruit Parlour was always your last stop after a day of shopping. Tradition, perhaps. Today had been a successful spree: a sleek new handbag, a few lovely dresses, and some elegant new shoes. But the real highlight of your day was coming to visit a certain someone. That, and the amazing perk of getting a free melon parfait. Favouritism certainly had its benefits. 

The sweet, fresh scent of ripe fruit filled your nose the moment you had stepped through the door. Perfectly sour citrus, crunchy nashi pears, and of course, the family exclusive: two for fifteen-thousand yen net melons. You weaved past it all, heading straight for the lift at the back of the store. Excitement bubbled warm and weightless in your stomach. Norisuke was right. Nothing complemented a long day of shopping quite like fresh fruit and indulgent company. 

The lift hardly had time to open before a familiar voice greeted you.

“Sugar! You’re here. I’ve been so excited to see you.”

You barely had time to respond before he wrapped you in a warm hug. The scent of him: clean, ever so slightly sweet with the faintest trace of cologne welcomed you, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His whiskers on his chin tickled your skin, the hair softer than it ought to be for something so full. 

You often wondered how a man like him was single. Of course, he hadn’t always been a bachelor, but still. He had so much love to give, he was so caring. His warmth extended to everyone around him. It was evident in the way he doted on and spoiled his children, in the way he ran his business, and in the way he treated you. He was a good man, through and through.

Still, the two of you drew glances. Customers would watch, some with idle curiosity, others with a judgmental weight in their gaze. You weren’t ‘officially’ his girlfriend. Nor were you in some kind of ‘sugar baby’ relationship. No titles, labels or declarations had been exchanged, and that didn’t matter. The two of you enjoyed each other, enjoyed your time together. It could be as simple as that, and it was. 

You slid into the booth beside him, the seat still warm from his presence. You sat close, your thighs pressed together, denim against bare skin, a faint tickling sensation where the fabric brushed against you. His hand found its place on your leg, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles just above your knee, his large palm warming your skin. His other hand held a spoon, offering you a bite of a melon parfait.

You let him feed you, wrapping your lips around the spoonful of scrumptious cool sweetness that melted on your tongue. The flavour was divine, truly. No matter how many times you enjoyed the treat, you never tired of it. Fluffy, sugary whipped cream. Perfectly tart, almost floral melon. The combination of textures– Norisuke was a genius, really. You let him spoon you another bite. 

He was trying so hard to be respectful, to keep his focus on your eyes, but you caught the way his eyes darted to your mouth each time you licked a stray bit of cream from your lips.

“How was your day today, darling?” he asked, voice low and rich.

You swallowed your mouthful. “Good. I got some nice new things.”

He smiled at that, features fond. “Really? I trust they’re pretty things, knowing your taste.”

“I promise they’re very pretty,” you teased. “Maybe I’ll give you a little fashion show later.”

His lips quirked into a cheeky grin, mischief flickering in his eyes. “That would be very cute. I’d like that.” Then, leaning back just slightly, he gave you an amused look, half-serious. "You know, you could buy a lot more pretty things if you let me give you my card."

You rolled your eyes, though there was no real malice behind it. "I don’t need to do that, I have my own money."

"I know," he murmured, voice as smooth as honey. His fingers on your thigh paused briefly. "But I like spoiling you."

"You already do," you pointed out, gesturing with your eyes to the parfait he’d been feeding you,

He hummed. "I could do a lot more."

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it. Low, intimate, like a promise. You smiled softly as another spoonful of dessert passed through your lips. 

Another spoon, another gentle touch. He wiped away a stray bit of cream from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb, his fingers lingering before he pulled away. His hand on your thigh stayed above your knee, respectful, careful. Never straying high enough to even risk being inappropriate. There were others around, and Norisuke was not an exhibitionist. 

His eyes followed the spoon, unable to resist watching how your lips curled just perfectly around the silver, how your eyelashes fluttered closed in bliss at the taste. Those ocean blue eyes spoke volumes. Full of intelligence, of humble wisdom that had come from years of experience rather than arrogance. Yet still, they kept drifting back to hover on your lips, as if he were considering something. You knew it well by now—the way his brows furrowed slightly, the barely perceptible shift in his expression. A quiet kind of yearning, restrained but unmistakable. He wanted something. He just was too polite to say please. 

You swallowed your mouthful, feigning innocence as you tilted your head at him. "Is everything alright, Norisuke?"

"Yes, yes, of course, sweetheart." He gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a pause, just long enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation. Then, in a voice softer, just a little rougher, "Just… Can we please go to my office? When you’ve finished your treat, of course…"

You nodded and smiled coyly. The warmth in your belly started to simmer. He handed you the spoon. 

You didn’t rush, but you didn’t dawdle either, finishing the last few bites of the parfait with a deliberate slowness, aware of his eyes tracking every movement. The moment your spoon clinked against the bottom of the empty glass, he was already reaching for you, pulling you along to his office out the back.

As soon as the door was closed (and locked) behind you, firm hands, warm and certain, pulled you effortlessly into his lap as he sat in his chair. Before you could even gasp at the suddenness, his lips were pressed up hard against yours. 

It wasn’t a tentative kiss. Not at all. 

It was deep, needy, thirsty . He kissed you like he’d been thinking about it all day, like he’d been waiting for an excuse. The faint taste of melon and cream still lingered on your lips, but the heat of his mouth quickly ate it up. His tongue parted your lips, insistent rather than teasing, and a low sound rumbled from his chest as he drank you in. It sent a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy. 

Eager hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards, tugging it over your head with some help from you, breaking the kiss momentarily. Forgotten, the garment was thrown into a corner of the office.

Norisuke admired the pretty lace of your bra for a short moment, a small, affectionate smile pulling at his lips. 

“Beautiful,” he exhaled simply, giving your decollete a few light pecks. He hooked his thumbs into the cups, shifting the thin fabric downwards to reveal your pert nipples. 

Calloused hands grabbed two handfuls of your breasts, guiding one of your buds to his lips. His mouth latched on, sucking hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue swirled around, tasting your skin with greedy passion. You squirmed, but it only made you awfully aware of how your cunt was rubbing up against his hard-on just light enough to tease.

“Yes….” you hummed, fingers grabbing at the back of his shirt, pushing him closer. Your skin was burning hot, desperate for more of his touch. “Please.”

He released your nipple with a wet sound of suction. His voice was like velvet. Softer than satin. “You don’t need to beg, you know. Just say what you need, sweetheart.” 

You swallowed, your cheeks suddenly stained pink with embarrassment. “I…I want you to touch my pussy.” 

An eyebrow raised in amusement. “Already? Have I excited you that much, sugar?”

You pursed your lips, nodded, exhaled through your nose and looked away from him. He knew you so well. It was almost humiliating how hot he could get you from just kissing and some light petting. Not to mention how quickly he could turn you into a brainless, blabbering mess when he played with you. 

“That’s alright. I’ll give you what you want, darling.” He tilted his head upwards to plant a kiss to the apple of your cheek. He whispered against your skin. “A good girl like you deserves the world.” 

His words made your heart ache. He was going to rot your teeth with how sweet he was. He was as much of a treat as the parfait: indulgent, decadent, irresistible. Though it was not lost on you how the term of endearment also had your pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation. 

His spare hand smoothed over the swell of your chest, kneading the soft flesh with a slow, deliberate touch. His fingers flexed, coaxing a shiver from you. He swapped breasts, lips locking around your other nipple, whilst his other hand wandered down your torso, laying the warm groundwork– another handful of gunpowder laid to fuel the blaze that was to come. 

His hand snaked up your skirt, the pad of his thumb just grazing your hot clit through the damp fabric of your panties. You mewled. You were surprised you hadn’t left a damp patch on his trousers in your excitement. Another light, teasing rub, a soft circle traced as he sucked on your tit. You would have been squeezing your legs together had he not been forcing them open with his own. 

“Norisuke,” you sighed, almost as if to tell him to get on with it. You were never a needy brat, but he had gotten you really horny. 

He read your mind, let your nipple slip out of his mouth. “Of course, sugar.”

He hoisted you up out of his lap with strong hands, gently placing you on the desk. Now standing up, he hooked one arm behind your back to unclasp your bra, discarding the lace that wasn’t really covering anything anyway. You rested your palms against his broad chest gingerly, letting him undress you with slow, but expert precision. He undid the buttons of your skirt, pulled the fabric off you, and then sat back in his chair, dropping it down so he was eye level with your pussy. 

You were suddenly very embarrassed at the dampness that was staining the pale fabric of your panties. Your cheeks burned. 

He rid you of your socks and shoes. Then, with far less patience than what he removed your skirt with, he pulled the soiled garment down to your knees, then past your ankles, fingers grazing the skin of your calf on their way past. Then, he shoved them in his back pocket. There goes your favourite pair. 

Seeing the surprise on your face, his features softened slightly. “For later,” he reassured. 

Right. You gave a shaky half smile, pleading with your eyes for him to touch you. 

“Lay back, please, sweetheart. Don’t worry about the paperwork.”

You obediently did exactly that. Your warm skin prickled when it made contact with the cool timber of his desk. Before your eyes could even settle on the ceiling, Norisuke gave your pussy one big, long lick with the flat of his tongue. Your head jerked forward–you couldn’t help but watch–and your mouth hung open in a quiet gasp. He licked again, and again, long and slow, small shivers ripping through your body each time. 

You bit down hard on your lip, trying to hide your needy sounds as he started to kiss your clit. He gave it the sweetest of smooches, sucking, and kissing with his tongue just as he would your lips. Of course, that was not the only part of your body that got his attention. He fondled your chest with one hand, held your legs open with the other. Your toes curled helplessly by his sides, your mind quickly melting into a puddle of pleasure. 

Him between your legs was truly a sight to behold—deep blue eyes trained on you: reading your body like a well-loved novel, eyebrows lightly creased, your juices on his lips. Your hands threaded into the long tresses of his sandy blond hair, mussing up its tidiness. 

His lips curled into a wet, soft ‘o’ shape, applying the perfect amount of suction to your bundle of nerves. 

“Oh! Yes, yes…just like that,” you whined, your nails digging into his scalp just enough to encourage him. 

Norisuke lapped up every drop of your slick arousal, moaning in delight at your taste. The parfait may have been your sweet treat, but you were his. His sounds vibrated his mouth against you, the sensation making your back arch into his touch. 

His grip on your thigh shifted slightly, and your hips jerked in anticipation. He buried two of his thick fingers straight into your plush pussy–you were so wet it was an easy feat. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from yelping. His knuckles rubbed against your walls so perfectly, and the fullness paired just right with how he was pleasing you with his mouth. 

It seemed that Norisuke was intent on ruining you. Languid, lazy licks of his tongue had now become quick, feather-light flicks across your clit. A well-practiced technique. You whimpered and whined from behind your hand. 

Your head rocked back as the fingers inside you curled upwards, pushing perfectly against your squishy front wall. Instead of just moving his fingers, he thrust with his whole hand, the pressure against your sweet spot remaining steadfast. Your whole body seared with white-hot sensations, every nerve from your scalp to the tips of your toes alight with pleasure– so much so that you felt like you couldn’t move. Your chest was tight with bated breath, your eyes were clamped shut as tight as a vice. You were so close to losing it. 

His eyes never left you. It was truly a shame that he could not speak to you whilst he was eating you out. If he could, he’d whisper every bit of adoration that burned on his tongue, tell you how perfect you looked unravelling for him. He loved to shower you in praise and affectionate words, especially when your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you were a moaning, sloppy mess. A messy reflection of his care for you. 

Suddenly, his hand pressed down against your lower stomach, firm and deliberate. A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your lashes fluttering before your eyes shot open, looking down at him frantically. That was dangerous. He was going to wreck you.  The weight of it sent a fresh wave of sensation crashing through you, forcing you to feel everything. The pressure only intensified the tight, unbearable coil winding deep inside you, that was so close to snapping apart. 

His fingers inside of you never stopped– insistent on his goal. Both hands on you, his mouth on your pussy. You were so, so overwhelmed, you were being stimulated in so many places, so many spots that he knew would do you over. Your core burned hotter, sharper, your thighs started to tingle. He released your clit from his lips with a lewd squelch, intent on bringing you over the edge with just his hands, so he could talk to you:

“Good girl, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his voice sweet and smooth. “Go on, my darling girl. Cum for me.”

After his encouragement, a few more quick thrusts of his fingers, and a gentle press on your lower tummy was all it took.

The orgasm tore through you like a live wire, leaving nothing but searing sensation in its wake. It stole the air from your lungs, ripped every thought from your mind, left you boneless and spent. Everything shattered, your body succumbing to the violent, helpless euphoria. For a moment, your body wasn’t your own—just pleasure, just feeling, just the overwhelming rush of release. You could’ve sworn you went numb. 

Your walls fluttered and tightened around his fingers, and your chest heaved with deep, steading breaths as the aftershocks coursed through you. You tried to hazily piece yourself back together, lifting your head– heavy with exertion, to face him. 

Luckily, he was there to catch you. 

He gave your pussy one soft, last kiss before pulling away, resting his palms gently on the outside of your thighs, caressing softly with his thumbs. With a content hum, he slipped a hand underneath you, fingers splayed against the skin of your back, and tugged you up and into his lap in one fluid motion. 

“Are you alright?” he murmured. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles against your skin. “I hope that wasn’t too much.”

You lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes, your own still heavy-lidded and dazed with pleasure. A slow, satisfied smile curled at the corners of your lips. “Never,” you whispered, voice still a little husky. “It was just right. I needed that. Thank you.”

He smiled tenderly. First, he kissed your forehead—soft and reverent. Then the tip of your nose, playful and sweet. Finally, your lips, slow and lingering, his warmth seeping into you, filling you up with the certainty of his affection.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips. “You were just perfect.”

You sighed, sinking against him, your body molding effortlessly into his. Your cheek pressed up against his chest, how his arms wrapped around you like a shield against the world—it was enough to make your heart swell with contentment. You smiled, nestled into his embrace, utterly at peace.

“Now,” he said, pressing another kiss to your temple, “how’s about that fashion show?”

[faeprincess777]

Valentine's Day Dates: Ateez Edition

Hongjoong - Chill night in

It’s been a long couple of weeks. The past few months have been a blur of deadlines and exams, leaving you completely burned out. All you wanted was to go home to your boyfriend.

As you walk in the door, a delicious smell hits your nose. As soon as you wander into the living room, you find him waiting for you with a bright smile. He prepared a lovely dinner, poured a couple glasses of wine, and lit a cozy fire. It was everything you could have hoped for.

“I wanted tonight to be perfect. To show you how much I appreciate all that you do for me”

Seonghwa - Lego Date

Everything was set up and perfect. Seonghwa had gone out to buy a new lego set just for tonight. He managed to find a couple of Valentine's Day themed ones. While he was out, he also came across a couples card game that he had seen floating around TikTok and decided to grab that too. 

He had ordered your favorite takeout, and it arrived just in time. You arrived home from work just as he put the  finishing touches on the perfect night. You were touched at the cute date he put together for you.

“Look I even got you roses, and they’ll never die! We have to build them, though.”

Yunho - Making Pizzas

He just finished prepping everything and making sure the night is perfect. It was a cute little date idea that he saw on one of your Pinterest boards. Setting all of the ingredients out, Yunho got to work prepping the pizza dough, deciding to make cute, heart-shaped pizza together.

When you arrived home, Yunho was giddy. He was so excited for the night he had in store. And seeing the way your eyes light up when you see makes it that much better.

“I may have snuck a peek at your phone, but I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”

Yeosang - Takes you to a nice restaurant

He had it all planned out. Yeosang had told you that the both of you would just get some ice cream and go for a little stroll. As the two of you made your way through the city, talking and laughing, you noticed that you had reached a familiar part of town

Imagine your surprise when he leads you to the new restaurant that you’ve been dying to try. The little gasp of pure joy was all it took to make Yeosang’s heart soar. As you go inside and get seated, he can’t help but stare at you with absolute adoration.

“You look beautiful. I’m so glad to be able to be here with you.”

San - Just relaxing together

He really outdid himself. You called earlier in the day to ask San if he would be okay with just staying in for date night, your voice tight and full of exhaustion. Of course, San had no problem with that. Seeing as it was Valentine's Day, he decided why not just relax together.

He drew up a bath and broke out some of your favorite wine. Next, he prepared a small snack for both of you. All that was left to do was sprinkle some rose petals around and wait. When you returned home, dead tired and found the both San prepared, you nearly cried with how caring and attentive he was.

“Come on, baby. Get in. Just relax with me.”

Mingi - Movie Night

Mingi was so proud of himself. He managed to set up the most perfect Valentine’s date for you. Snacks, check. Champagne, check. The cheesiest rom-com loaded up on the tv, check. All that's left is to pick you up from work and enjoy your night together.

Returning home, you were so happy to see the surprise Mingi had set up. It really was perfect. As you turn to him, surprise, evident on your face, you’re met with his signature smirk.

“Woah, who did all of this?? Weird. Oh, well, let's enjoy it”

Wooyoung - Romantic Dinner

All day, Wooyoung had been preparing a special dinner for you. It was a difficult recipe to perfect, but you were worth it. He even went as far as to call your mother for pointers. All in all, he was pretty pleased with himself.

When you came home a little earlier than expected, he made sure to keep you out of the kitchen, instead instructing you to go and wash up. In that time, he put the finishing touches and set the table. When you came back out, he was waiting with a massive smile. You were so happy to try his take on one of your favorite dishes, and it truly was amazing.

“Of course I made your favorite. This isn’t amateur boyfriend hour.”

Jongho - Fort Date

This week has been hell. Everything that could have gone wrong did and you were so fed up. Unfortunately, that also means you forgot what today was. Scrambling around at the last minute, you try to find something to make it up to Jongho.

When you get home you find Jongho and next to him is a perfectly constructed pillow fort. Inside is all of your favorite snacks and pizza from your favorite place. For some reason you can't understand, he doesn't seem upset that you forgot. He just walks up to you, giving you the sweetest kiss. He tells you that he can tell how stressed you’ve been and reassures you that it was okay.

“Don’t worry about anything. Let's enjoy our night.”

Tagging @mimikittysblog ❤️

[ajstruecolors]

Divine Trolls AU ☁️✨

So, I recently got into Epic: The Musical, and it sparked an idea! Goddess Poppy x Mortal Branch (or is he?👀) !! I'm working on the story right now, it is in development. But, I'm really excited. So, here's a snippet of what's to come :D

Troll Intervention

There is a legend as old as time.

It starts long ago, when Troll Kingdom lived without music. Their lives were bland and grey, unlike the world that we know it to be. That was until the night of The Storm. It was the worst one the trolls had ever lived through. Worst, and strangest.

The clouds that formed were as dark as the night sky but glowed a colour that was reminiscent of gold. The rain pattered onto the ground with a softness that did not match the intensity of how hard they fell. Each plop made a note, each note blended into a rhythm, each rhythm drew the attention of the trolls in hiding. The thunder roared, but in steady beats, in booming basses. The lightning that streaked through the skies was coloured the brightest colours the trolls had ever seen.

And when it finally passed, a bright orb of light as bright and big as the sun was left behind. The trolls marvelled at the orb, drawn to its light.

For about three seconds. Because the orb exploded!

6 strands of light burst from the light and weaved through the air like ribbons. Pink, Red, Yellow, Orange, Blue, and Purple.

Each strand found a place in the sky. They twirled and danced. Each popped, like balloons, and from each one, a large figure was left floating in its place.

A Rock troll with hair the colour of fire and a style to match.

A Classical troll, wearing a flowing black cape and holding a staff bigger than his stature.

A Country troll with heat in her eyes and an aura of justice.

A Techno troll, whose colours were that of a rainbow in the ocean.

A Funk troll, regal and standing proud. The gold in his fur shone and glistened.

And a Pop troll, as pink as the light that created her and with a smile that rivalled the sun.

“Trolls of Troll Kingdom! It is lovely to meet you!” She announced to her audience down below. Her infectiously peppy energy was evident in her voice. “We are the Gods of Troll Kingdom! My name is Poppy. Over there, you have Barb, Trollzart, Delta Dawn, Trollex, and Quincy.”

The whispers from the trolls below were full of curiosity and scepticism.

“Why are you here? Why now?”

“Because, dears, your lives are borin’,” Delta Dawn stated, her country twang echoing through the air.

“There is a better way to live,” Trollex added.

“We were brought here to show you how,” Trollzart explained, waving his golden staff.

“Through the shared power of music!” Barb exclaimed, pulling out an electric guitar from the clouds.

The songs they sang brightened the trolls’ world. Quite literally. Their once grey foliage burst with newfound colour. Their morning started with tunes of all kinds, across all their lands. Their days of pure survival became days filled with hope and adventure. The Gods and their teachings were welcomed into Troll society, but they could not stay for long.

“We sadly cannot stay,” Poppy had told them after a few weeks. “We must retreat to the clouds, but we ask of you: please, do not forget us! Do not forget all we have taught you! We will never truly leave you, but we cannot stay on land.”

“We wish you well.” The Gods said.

Their final words, before floating up into the bright daylight and leaving behind no trace of their existence, except for the colours and their music.

~~~

Years later

“It’s just a story, JD. You can’t really believe that that actually happened.”

Branch rolled his eyes at his brother. John Dory had brought his little brother deep into the forest, to a spot he had designed for his Branch’s target practice.

“It’s true!” John Dory argued. “I’ve seen them.”

His little brother remained unfazed. “Not one bit of that legend was important to my training.”

“No, but this next part will be.”

And JD leapt into the bushes nearby, rustling their leaves as he moved about and reappeared in another spot. He grinned.

“Use your skills, Bitty B. Find me.”

Branch felt a smirk grow on his lips. He reached for a training arrow from his quiver. “That’s more like it.”

“You know the drill. I have ten seconds, then you come find me.”

“I’ll give you twenty,” Branch’s confidence had taken hold. “To make it a challenge.”

John Dory only laughed. He agreed before ducking back into the bushes, disappearing from sight. Branch began his countdown.

Twenty.

Nineteen.

Eighteen.

Seventeen.

Six-

His ears twitched. John Dory was making his too easy for him. The leaves from the trees above him rustled, some even fell to the ground. He chuckled to himself. His brother was making this too easy.

Another rustle. Branch readied his bow and spun on his heel. He aimed at the sound.

And was caught off guard.

Pink.

John Dory wasn’t pink. He didn’t even wear the colour, avoiding it wherever he could.

Branch’s paranoia spiked, and he switched arrows, ready to defend himself. He followed the rustling as it moved. Deeper and deeper into the forest.

“Show yourself.” He wasn’t sure why he was singing. “I know you’re watching me! Show yourself!”

There was no sound for him to follow. No trace of pink in the green. His brain ran through ideas.

He smirked. “I can see you.”

And startled when a woman’s voice spoke behind him. “How can you see through my spell?”

When Branch whipped around, he saw a troll who was various shades of pink from head to toe. She wore a simple blue dress and a green headpiece. There was a second where he was trapped by her gaze, like being drowned in a pool, so deep. But he gathered himself fairly quickly.

“Ha! I was lying!” Branch pointed, his bow and arrow in his other hand. “And you fell for my bluff! Ha, Ha, Ha!”

The pink troll smirked. She began to sing as well, “Well done. Enlighten me, what’s your name?”

The archer put his arrow away and lowered his bow. “You first, and maybe I’ll do the same.”

“Nice try, but two can play this game.”

“Nah! Don’t be modest, I know you’re a Goddess, so let's be honest, you are Queen Poppy!”

The Goddess smiled, glowing faintly as she resumed her natural form. She became triple his height, with skin that glowed and an air of beauty. Her flowing blue dress was as pale as water, and her crown had been woven by felt.

“I’m surprised,” the Goddess of Pop spoke. “I thought you did not believe in our existence.”

A blush spread across Branch’s face. He raked a hand through his hair in embarrassment and averted his gaze.

“Respectfully, Queen Poppy… You are the most beautiful troll I have ever seen. Such beauty must only come from the divine.”

Branch’s face heated when he noticed the Goddess blushing as well.

“Thank you.” He stumbled over what to say. “I-”

“BRANCH! WHERE DID YOU GO? IT’S BEEN OVER TWENTY MINUTES BY NOW.”

It had not been over twenty minutes, John Dory was just impatient. The troll and Goddess locked eyes, each gaze holding a different emotion. Curiosity, and admiration.

“I should go.” Poppy tucked one of her bangs behind her ear nervously.

“Wait-” But she had gone before he had even known what to say.

The silence that followed was unpleasant and heavy, a rarity for Branch, who usually enjoyed solitude. He readied his bow again and pointed his training arrow towards the sounds of his brother’s frantic footsteps. He let the arrow fly and couldn’t help but smile at John Dory’s yelp of surprise.

“Hey, JD. I think the legend might true.” Branch told his brother when he begrudgingly handed back the arrow.

Ok so it was a long snippet 😅. Got carried away lmao. Let me know what you guys think! I have no many ideas for drawings but no idea how to draw them. If anyone's interested, DM me for descriptions! Thanks for reading!

[lemurlegs]

Bewitched

Hey guys, here's chapter 3, wooo!! The next chapter might be a bit delayed since I'm gonna need to rework it a bit. But I'll be posting some artwork i did of the fic, so expect to see that in the near future. Also, i really hope you guys like the story so far. Feel free to comment on my posts. I'd love to get to know yall. I appreciate everyone who reads my story 💕💕

Previous chapter

Wordcount: 5.5k

Warning: Valentino, blood, violence

Chapter 3.

Moth Against A Flame

Alastors pov

As the deal faded and the magic dissipated from her body, her hand slipped from his grips, and she fell unconscious. He was surprised by her sudden collapse; usually people don't just pass out from deals.

Bending down beside her, he intended to lift her and carry her to one of the rooms. However, before he could, he heard hurried footsteps approaching.

"What's with the light show, Radio Freak? You could've woken up the whole hotel!" Vaggie exclaimed, appearing in her pajamas. As she drew closer, she noticed the unconscious sinner lying in a pool of blood, with Alastor hovering over her.

"Alastor, what have you done!?" Vaggie demanded, pointing her spear at Alastor's face.

Alastor offered her a strained smile, annoyed by her accusatory tone. He had been trying to help. He could have let the fox bleed out on the floor, but instead, he had chosen to save the poor soul. Yet, it seemed that no one appreciated his kindness in this place.

Charlie arrived after her girlfriend, running and panting.

"Calm down, Vaggie. Oh my Satan, what... what happened here, Al? Is she okay?"

Charlie looked around with a worried expression.

"Well, dear, I was just indulging in my usual late-night reading when this little darling stumbled into the hotel, quite literally," Alastor explained.

"She was nearly at death's door, but I took it upon myself to save her," he added.

"Oh, that's so kind of you, Al. I really hope she's okay. It's so exciting; we haven't had a new resident in months. Maybe she'll be interested in redemption," Charlie exclaimed, her excitement evident.

"I wouldn't exactly call it kindness. You clearly got her to sign a deal with you; you just exploited her moment of weakness to acquire a new soul," Vaggie interjected, her tone accusing.

"Oh, Vagatha, you wound me, my dear. You think so lowly of me?" Alastor replied, feigning offense.

"Yes," Vaggie responded without hesitation.

"Is it true, Al? You have her soul?" Charlie asked, her expression hopeful, as if hoping Vaggie was mistaken.

"Why, of course. It takes a lot of power to bring someone back from the brink of death to tip-top shape. It's a fair price, if you ask me," Alastor replied nonchalantly.

"See? I told you. He doesn't do anything out of the kindness of his heart. Honestly, I highly doubt he even has one," Vaggie remarked, crossing her arms and giving Alastor a disapproving look. Charlie's disappointment was evident on her face.

Alastor then lifted the fox demon in a princess carry and began walking towards the stairs.

"Now, turn that frown upside down, girls. Nothing bad's going to happen to the little darling. I'll make sure of it," he assured them.

"Uh, yeah, because that's definitely reassuring coming from you," Vaggie retorted, matching Alastor's steps.

With Alastor taking brisk strides, Vaggie speed-walking beside him, and Charlie following closely, they silently made their way to one of the empty hotel rooms. Alastor effortlessly used one of his tendrils to open the door as they entered the suite.

Charlie swiftly pulled back the covers as Alastor gently placed the girl on the king-sized bed. Even in the dim light, her paleness was evident. Alastor hovered his hand over her stomach once more, this time intending to fully heal her. The two girls huddled together, anxiously watching the scene unfold.

The green glow of his magic began to shine, seeping through her bloodied cloak. The warm neon magic transformed into shining threads, carefully stitching up the gash on her stomach. As soon as the stitching appeared, her wound magically disappeared, as if it had never been there.

With his other hand, Alastor pointed his index and middle fingers, pressing them to where her heart lay. Another wave of green light flowed, and her blood began to regenerate, the color returning to her skin. After a few minutes of magical healing, Alastor withdrew his hands, placing them behind his back.

"There, the little vixen is as good as new," Alastor said to the two girls in front of him. He gently grabbed the corners of the blanket, covering her, before stepping away from the bed. With a snap of his fingers, Nifty appeared in the room.

"You need something, sir?" Nifty asked, her smile matching Alastor's wide grin.

"I need you to take the little sleeping beauty's measurements. She can't be walking around in bloody rags; it would be quite unbecoming," Alastor instructed.

"Sir, yes, sir," Nifty replied, giving a little salute before retrieving a measuring tape. She quickly climbed onto the bed and began carefully taking the girl's measurements.

Alastor turned back to Vaggie and Charlie with a reassuring look.

"She's going to be just fine. Tomorrow, we'll introduce her to everyone, but for now, she needs to rest. I may have fixed her with my magic, but rest is just as important in the healing process."

Upon hearing this, Vaggie and Charlie seemed to calm down a bit. They bid goodnight to the Radio Demon and returned to their own bedroom, ready to drift off into the land of dreams.

As the door closed, Nifty jumped off the bed and handed Alastor the measurements. With a swift motion of his hand, he conjured a stunning red dress, then made his way over to the wooden closet, placing the garment on an empty hanger.

After informing Nifty about the blood spill in the lobby, Alastor shadow-warped to his own room, settling into one of his sitting chairs. With a snap of his fingers, he lit the fireplace, and a green fire roared up, casting a warm glow throughout the room. He glanced up at the mantle, where an ornate, wooden, art deco-styled clock stood, showing 4:06. A lot had transpired in under an hour.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned back, finally allowing himself to relax after a long day of wearing his mask. Despite decades of embodying the persona of The Radio Demon, he couldn't deny the fatigue of upholding the facade. That's why his large room, alone, was the only place he could truly be himself. After a few moments of silence, Alastor rose to his feet, shedding his jacket and beginning to walk towards the bayou part of his room. As he kicked off his dress shoes, freeing his tired hooves and stepping onto the cold damp grass, he felt a sense of relief wash over him.

Passing between the large trees, he savored the sensation of the cold breeze blowing through his hair, allowing himself to relax into the forest's atmosphere. As he walked, his thoughts turned to the new soul he had just acquired, pondering what could have led her to such a dire situation. He wasn't so much focused on the stab wound as he was on the dark veil of magic that lingered around her. It didn't make sense to him; she seemed relatively new to hell, as she had no idea who he was.

So why was she shrouded in such negative energy?

Deciding that the best course of action would be to ask her directly, Alastor resolved to seek out the answers he needed from the fox demon's own words and body language.

The next day, Alastor waited for her to step out of the room, adorned in the dress he had prepared. She looked remarkably beautiful, cleaned up and adorned in the stunning red garment. Alastor found himself shaking his head at such peculiar thoughts.

Following her down the stairs, he waited until she reached the bottom before manifesting from the shadows, gently guiding her towards the crowd.

Her startled expression amused him greatly as he introduced her to the other residents. Alastor watched quietly as each member of the group greeted Ginger, observing their interactions closely.

However, the peaceful atmosphere was disrupted as the snake demon burst in with a large gun. Vaggie swiftly intervened, putting an end to the commotion. After a brief scolding from Vaggie, Ginger finally broke her silence, expressing her happiness to meet everyone.

When Charlie inquired about the length of time Ginger had spent in the fiery pits, she replied that it had only been a day.

Alastor couldn't help but find this revelation intriguing. He knew she was freshly fallen, yet only a day in hell? It certainly added a layer of complexity to the situation, especially considering the dark magic that surrounded her.

“We definitely need to teach you about how things work here then, we need to make sure you're safe after all.”

Alastor saw the perfect opportunity to get answers to his questions. Taking advantage of the situation he offers to explain everything about hell's workings over breakfast.

After enduring Vaggie's usual snide remarks, Alastor turned to Ginger and asked if she was hungry. Upon her confirmation, he urged her towards the streets of hell, offering her his arm. Though initially hesitant, Ginger accepted the gesture.

So he began guiding her to the cafe. He couldn't wait for the moment she witnessed the gruesome nature of hell. The disgusted terror filled expression of new sinners always brightened up his day. To his surprise Ginger didn't acknowledge the carnage, in fact, she even stepped over a dead body without as much as a twitch in her face. This woman just keeps getting more intriguing.

After a few minutes of walking they finally arrived at their destination. Alastor opened the door for Ginger, who seemed to snap out of her thoughts, slowly entering the cozy cafe.

He watched her as she took in the beauty of the establishment. This place had a warm and inviting atmosphere, with a classic feel to it. That's one of the reasons he frequented this place. He brought her to one of the empty tables, pulling out her chair and pushing her in, then taking a seat himself.

Leading her to one of the empty tables, Alastor pulled out her chair and pushed her in before taking a seat himself. Locking gazes with the fox demon, he pondered the secrets she was undoubtedly withholding. As she began shifting in her seat, Ginger broke the awkward silence with a compliment about the cafe.

Alastor then proceeded to tell her about the cafe's reputation for serving the best brew and breakfasts, noting that the food was another reason he frequented the establishment.

As the waiter appears Alastor orders his usual, with Ginger opting for a similar choice too. He breaks the silence this time. He starts explaining the inner workings of hell. The seven circles, the sinners and hellborns, the extermination.

Ginger listened to his words carefully, sometimes asking about something in more detail, but the conversation came to a halt once the food had arrived.

The smell of the meal was divine. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip of the scalding hot liquid. Bitter and flaming, just how he liked it.

He shifts his eyes to the fox, just in time to witness her scrunched up face from the bitterness of the coffee. It was adorable. Alastor continued observing her, as she poured two sugar packets in her drink. Two is quite a lot of sugar—he thought.

As she reached for the third, he couldn't help but make a judgmental face at the copious amount of sugar she's planning on consuming.

She noticed his reaction, to which she informed him that she liked sweets. Clearly. Alastor made a comment about how she was more so drinking sugar water with a side of coffee. At this she rolled her eyes. She poured the third one in, which he found ridiculous, imitating the action of her eyes.

“What's wrong, you don't fancy sweet coffee?” you tease, raising an eyebrow in playful inquiry.

“I don't enjoy anything sweet, darling. I prefer bitter and savory flavors.”

After that the conversation dies down, both of them focusing on their breakfasts. Alastor began thinking about what he should ask her about herself. After a few moments he settled on a question. Asking about her lack of reaction to the gore around them when they were on the streets.

She takes a moment, informing Alastor that it was because it wasn't her time seeing such gruesome sights. Saying that when she was alive, she would manipulate men into giving her everything that she desired. He took note of this fact she revealed. Deceptive and manipulative.

Another thing she revealed was that she has a more violent side, saying that she ‘took care’ of the bastards that tried taking advantage of her. Alastor was hoping that she meant murder when she said ‘handled them accordingly.’

“How interesting. And how did you meet your end, if you don't mind me asking?" Alastor asked curiously.

“Ugh, well, it's a bit embarrassing, not gonna lie. Foxglove. Not a fun way to die.”

Hm that is indeed an unfortunate way to go out—he thought.

Alastor decided to change the topic to something he was wondering about last night. How the hell did she get hurt so badly on her first day?

She takes a while to answer, chewing her food slower than she did before. So it's a sensitive subject then? Interesting—he thought. When she begins, clearly not giving away anything noteworthy, only giving vague answers.

He decided that if she was not going to give an honest answer, he wouldn't answer more questions. They were already on their last bites, so Alastor checks his pocket watch, noting that he has things to do, after all, he is a busy overlord.

He pays for the meal, then grabs Ginger's shoulder, telling her to prepare herself, not giving it away to what exactly she should prepare for. Hoping to get a reaction out of her this time, since hell's streets weren't surprising her.

Alastor's shadow warped both of them back to the hotel lobby. The journey through the shadows wasn't interesting, he got used to this mode of transportation a long time ago. Though he did relish in the panicked face Ginger made while warping.

“Well, that was certainly an experience,” She said as she flashed him a smile, but Alastor could tell she was shocked. How exhilarating.

“Shadow warping is quite the power”

…

Excuse me? Did she just say what I think she did? Yes, she said the correct term, shadow warping. So the little vixen knows a thing or two about magic. That might explain the dark energy that was lingering around her the day before—he thought as he lifted his eyebrow, searching for any reaction she might make. Sadly he could find anything that gives away any more clues about her identity.

With that, he left to run an errand he needed to do, leaving her alone in the lobby.

Ginger's pov

As you wandered through the confusing, winding corridors of the hotel, you stumbled upon various rooms and spaces—a kitchen, a dining room adorned with elegant decor, several storage closets filled with miscellaneous items, a laundry room with the hum of machines, a grand ballroom with echoes of past events, and even an indoor swimming pool for relaxation.

But amidst the familiar and the expected, you stumbled upon something utterly bizarre—a collector's room adorned with rubber ducks. A giant duck statue stood in the center, surrounded by riches and treasures, as if someone was worshiping a deity resembling a rubber duck. What the fuck is this place?—you thought to yourself.

After what felt like hours of exploration, you finally reached a room with two large wooden double doors. Pushing one open, you were greeted by the scent of dust and old paper—the Morningstar library.

As you walked between the towering bookshelves, you noticed the abandoned atmosphere, with dust covering the shelves and the air thick with neglect. Pulling out books one by one, you searched for any information that could shed light on the mysteries of this place.

You've searched the entire library for information on breaking curses, but unfortunately, you found nothing specific on that topic. However, you did come across some resources that seemed worth looking into.

In one corner of the room, you discovered a set of bean bags, offering a comfortable spot to settle in and dive into your findings. Bringing a few of the books you collected, you sank into the chair and began to unravel the secrets hidden within the pages.

The Morningstar Family History, Overlords of Hell vol. 47 - 2021 edition, Soul Binding Deals, How To Keep Yourself Safe From Exterminators, An Ultimate Guide To Demon Magic.

These were some of the books you decided to skim through. Page after page, book after book you found out more and more there is to know about hell. The few bits that jumped out to you were these sections.

“In the aftermath of Lucifer Morningstar's fall, the once ambitious archangel became dispirited and despondent, rendering him unfit to rule. Stepping into the void left by Lucifer's absence, Lilith, the Queen of Hell, took on the mantle of leadership. Through her inspiring songs, she rallied demonkind, challenging the very foundations of Heaven. In response, Heaven instituted the annual examination of Pride Ring's citizens, viewing Lilith's influence as a direct threat.”

Excerpt from "The Morningstar Family History”

“The infamous Radio Demon is still one of the most powerful and feared overlord. When he arrived in hell, many dismissed him. However, he soon revealed an unimaginable raw power never before witnessed in a human soul. He swiftly overthrew Overlords who had ruled for centuries and broadcasted the ensuing carnage on his radio show for all of Hell to hear. Eventually, he revealed himself as the mastermind behind these incidents, leading the denizens to dub him "The Radio Demon. His disappearance sparking many theories, as he hasn't been seen for 5 years, leaving many to wonder just what happened to The Radio Demon."

Excerpt from "Overlords of Hell vol. 47 - 2021 edition”

“Overlords make contacts with lesser sinners and take control of their souls, empowering themselves in the process in exchange for a favor/boon.

These soul pacts bolster the overlords' abilities, facilitating their pursuit of greater power. Leveraging these contracts, many overlords manipulate the souls under their control to carry out their commands, furthering their own agendas.”

Excerpt from "Soul Binding Deals”

Before you could continue with your reading, the spider demon you met earlier that morning entered the library. Spotting you sitting on the ground amidst a pile of books, he sauntered over and plopped down next to you in one of the bean bags.

"Finally found ya, toots. I've been searchin’ for ya since this mornin’," Angel Dust exclaimed.

“Whatcha doin in this dusty paper prison anyways? I haven't seen anybody come in here, like eva.”

Glancing up at him, you explained, "Sorry about that. After Alastor brought us back from the cafe, I decided to do some more research about this place."

Angel snorted at that. “What the Deer Daddy didn't tell ya anythin’ about hell? Wasn't that the reason he took ya out to eat? Or maybe he fancies ya.” Said Angel with a smirk wiggling his eyebrows.

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "I highly doubt that. He did explain some things, but before we could really delve deeper into anything, he said he needed to run an errand or something.”

“Tsk. Typical.” said Angel as he crossed four of his arms and shook his head.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, during which you pondered how to broach the subject of Alastor with Angel.

"Hey, Angel Dust—"

"Just call me Angel, toots." He corrects you.

"Alright. So, Angel, what do you know about Alastor? I've read about him in one of these books, the one that talks about the overlords. What's he like? Or more importantly, how does he treat his souls?"

Angel leaned back against the bean bag, contemplating your question. "Ahh, well, the guy's kind of an enigma. One day he just appeared in front of the hotel, sayin’ that he wanted to help Charlie with this ridiculous thing she's doing. He's been here since. As for how he treats his contracts, well, I haven't heard much. Ya should prolly ask Husk or Nifty bout that. Why do ya wanna know anyways?”

“Well, I sort of sold my soul to him," you confessed as you gave him a nervous smile.

"You what?!?! Why???" Angel exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock.

"Well, it was either that or death, so yeah, kinda didn't have a choice," you explained with a resigned shrug.

"Oh jeez, that's unfortunate," Angel sympathized.

You scoff "Yeah, tell me about it.”

As the conversation died down, Angel remembered the reason he had sought you out.

"Hey, toots, so actually, the reason I came looking for ya was 'cause Charlie wanted me to take ya shopping since you don't really have anything."

"Yeah, I don't have anything, not even money. So how am I supposed to buy things?" you questioned.

He waved you off dismissively. "Don't worry, she gave me her credit card. You can buy anything you wish for. She's the princess, after all. Her whole family is loaded."

"Well, shit, alright. I guess I do need some things," you acknowledged.

“That's the spirit, now let's get shoppin’.” Angel declared, eager to begin.

Before he could drag you out of your comfortable reading nook, you grabbed one of the books, planning on reading it later: "An Ultimate Guide To Demon Magic.”

You and Angel embarked on a shopping spree through the shops and boutiques of hell, purchasing toiletries, clothes, shoes, and other essential items, including a phone. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the shopping district. Nothing too noteworthy happened, well except for Angel urging you to buy more skimpy clothes, saying that you need to show off what God gave you. Or how he said it, what the ‘Big Heavenly Daddy’ gave ya.

After a few hours of trying on clothes and navigating the crowded streets, you both agreed it was time to head back. As you strolled through a street adorned with flashing neon signs and advertisements, something caught your eye—a humble little shop nestled amidst the glitzy storefronts. It stood out with its simplicity and quaint charm against the modern architecture surrounding it. You read the sign above the door: "Witches' Wonderland.”

"Hey, Angel, mind if we make one more stop?" you asked, gesturing towards the quaint shop.

"Sure, where would you like to go?" Angel replied, looking down at you with his hands full of bags—well, all his hands. It was evident that you two had bought quite a lot.

"There, 'Witches' Wonderland,'" you stated, pointing at the cottage-styled shop.

"Why would you want to shop there?" Angel inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sure, it just looks unique, and I'm kinda curious what's inside," you explained.

Angel shrugged. "Sure, why not."

At that you two began making your way to the shop. You cross the filthy streets and appear in front of the door. You push in the big wooden door, hearing a little bell ringing that was attached to the doorknob, signaling to the workers that a new customer has entered.

The demon girl behind the desk, with features reminiscent of a raven, greeted you warmly, her eyes gleaming with delight at the sight of new customers. She encouraged you to gaze at her wares.And boy did you gaze.

The inside of the witchcraft shop is mystical and enchanting. The atmosphere is dimly lit, often by flickering candles or softly glowing lanterns, casting shadows that dance across the walls. The scent of incense—such as sandalwood, patchouli, or lavender—fills the air.

Shelves and display tables are adorned with a variety of intriguing items. You might find rows of glass jars filled with herbs, spices, and dried flowers, each labeled with their uses and magical properties. Crystals and gemstones of all shapes and sizes are displayed. There are sections dedicated to candles in every color too.

Bookshelves are filled with grimoires, spell books, and guides on various aspects of witchcraft, from beginner manuals to advanced tomes on spellcasting, divination, and alchemy. There are also journals and blank books for personal spell recording.

A corner devoted to divination tools, featuring tarot decks, pendulums, runes, and scrying mirrors. Another section showcases handcrafted wands, athames, chalices, and other ritual tools, often made from natural materials like wood, bone, and stone.

Oh how you feel at home. You look like a kid in the candy store, running around picking up items, deciding on what to buy while Angel just follows you, seemingly bored already.

With each enchanting discovery, you added more and more to your growing collection. Angel seemed shocked at the amount of money you were willing to spend, but it was not his money to worry about.

Bringing all the items to the register, the raven girl looked happier than ever, I mean after all you did buy half the store.

She began scanning all the items:

Herbs like Sage, Lavender, Rosemary, Basil, Chamomile, Mugwort, Bay leaves, Rose petals, Cinnamon sticks, Dried yarrow.

You also got a few gemstones too, for example Amethyst, Clear quartz, Rose quartz, Black tourmaline, Citrine, Moonstone, Obsidian, and Selenite sticks.

You also bought an assortment of different colored candles, divination tools, jars and a few spell books and a personal grimoire.

Exiting the store, you felt like the happiest witch in hell, your arms laden with six bags filled to the brim with supplies. With Angel by your side, both of you were now burdened with copious amounts of items, resembling the rich girls from 2000s teen movies as you strutted through the streets of hell.

As you two make your way back, a hot pink limo barreled down the street, smoothly hitting all unfortunate sinners in its way.

You look confused at the sight of the car pulling over next to you as the color drains from Angel's face.

He grabs your shoulders, making you draw your eyes away from the vehicle.

“Listen to me, ya need to get outta here fast.”

“Angel what's going on?”

“No time to explain, let's go”

At Angel’s worried urging, you picked up the pace, dropping your bags, almost running, hoping to get away from the mysterious car. You knew better than to question what was happening. Angel has been in hell a lot longer than you have.

As if anticipating your move, the limo accelerated, cutting you off as the back window rolled down.

"Angelcakes!" A sickeningly sweet voice called out. You could almost see the exact moment your new friend’s face hardened into a work mask.

Dislike churned in your stomach, but you maintained a neutral, if somewhat skeptical, expression as you both stopped so Angel could acknowledge the demon.

"Valentino.”

"Nice to see you out and about, Love Bug. I see you’ve got some bi—. Oooh, you’re cute." The way he switched from insults to sweet talk was insulting. Stepping out of the vehicle, his leather shoes crunched against the pavement as he stood to his full height. Taller than your friend, his red eyes were hidden behind heart-shaped sunglasses. With suave strides, he closed the gap between you in two steps, catching the hand you tried to avoid him with and pulling you closer. "Say baby, looking for a job?" Cringing as he kissed your hand.

Turning to your friend, Valentino's slick smile never wavered despite your clear discomfort. “Angel darling, why don’t you introduce us?” You tried to pull your arm free, but his grip was unnaturally strong, belying his lanky frame.

“This is Ginger. Ginger, this is my boss, Valentino.” Reluctantly, Angel made the introductions, his eyes fixed on Valentino’s hand gripping you, worry evident in his expression.

“Ginger.” You’d never heard your name sound so vile as when Valentino purred it. “Such an adorable name. Nice to meet you, Guapita. So about that job, a little vixen like you could be a star with that face.” His upper hands cupped your chin as he drew closer, the intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne making your head spin.

“Ah. Nice to meet you too, Angel’s boss. No, I’m not looking for a job right now, so I’ll decline.”

“Hey Val, what’d you stop by for? Were you looking for me?” Angel was by your side in an instant, trying to distract the pimp from his interest in you.

“Quiet, Angel. Can’t you see I’m occupied?" The taller man hissed before invading your space once more. “Come on now, Bambina. I’ve got just the right spotlight for you.” Multiple hands felt up your back and sides, that nauseating smell invading your lungs as much as its source was invading your personal space.

“No!” You pushed against those creepy hands with all your might.

“Val!” Angel intervened, grabbing the invading hands. Something in his actions triggered the man, and you were roughly shoved to the side before he rounded on Angel, venomous drool seeping from his lips as his coat flared out, turning into wings.

“Angel, Angel, Angel. Are you trying to tell me what to do? Did you forget, you’re mine! Shut up and let me do my business.” The sweetness in his voice drained with each word, replaced by a repulsive hiss as he spat abuse at the cowering Angel Dust.

“But Val, she’s not that typ’a girl. And—“ A fist flew at Angel's face too fast for him to avoid it. With a gasp, you watched your tall friend topple to the ground, his eye already swelling from the impact.

Something in you at that moment snapped, something about this scene feeling vaguely familiar. You needed to do something.

The air crackled with tension as you lunged towards Valentino, your claws extended and ready for battle. In an instant, the scene erupted into chaos.

Valentino, taken aback by your sudden attack, released his grip on Angel and stumbled backward. His wings flared out menacingly as he attempted to regain his footing, his sunglasses askew from the force of your assault.

“Fucking crazy bitch” hissed the moth demon.

As you advanced, purple flames burst forth from your fingertips, painting the street in an infernal hue. Valentino's eyes widened in shock at the display of your power. With each gesture, fiery torrents lashed out, scorching the ground and licking at his coat. He attempted to retreat from the fireballs you directed at his feet, guiding him back to his car with caution.

“And don't you dare think about hurting Angel again fucking disgusting mothman” you seethed.

Valentino, now sitting back in his limo, lightly charred, looking angrier than ever, began speaking.

“Don't you fucking think this is over” with that he slammed the door shut as the car stormed away.

You turned to Angel quickly, assessing the damage inflicted upon him by his disgusting boss—a black eye and a few bruises, nothing too severe.

"You're okay, Angel?" you inquired, bending down next to him and reaching up to his face to examine the impact.

"Yeah, I'm fine, toots. Jeez, you didn't have to save me like that," he replied with a casual shrug.

"Don't say that. I couldn't have just let him hurt you like that," you stated firmly, giving him a stern look.

"Wow, thanks, Ginger. That really means a lot," Angel remarked sincerely.

Standing up, you extended a hand to help your spider friend off the ground, pulling him up.

"C'mon, Angel, let's pick up our bags and get out of here. I think I've had enough adventure for today," you suggested.

"I agree," he replied.

With that, you two gathered your bags and began walking back to the hotel once more, hoping for an uninterrupted journey this time. As you walked in silence, Angel couldn't resist asking the burning question on his mind.

"So, fire, huh?" Angel inquired as you walked back towards the hotel.

"Oh, that? It's nothing, just a simple spell, really," you replied nonchalantly.

"A spell? Whatcha mean by that?" Angel pressed, intrigued.

"I mean it's not demon magic; it's just regular magic," you explained.

"Wait, there are other kinds of magics?" Angel asked, surprised.

"Oh yes, there are lots of them," you confirmed.

"Then what kind of demon magic do ya have?" Angel questioned further.

"Honestly, I don't know. That's mostly why I was in that dusty library. I was trying to find out more about demon powers," you admitted.

As you reached the hotel entrance, your hand hovered over the doorknob, and you turned to Angel.

"Hey, Angel, about what happened today, with the whole fire spell and me learning demon magic. Can we keep that between us?" you requested.

"Yeah, of course, toots. My lips are sealed. Though we might need to come up with a reasonable explanation for my black eye," Angel chuckled.

"Well, you're an actor, aren't you? Just improv it," you suggested with a smirk.

He laughed even harder at your response, the sound echoing through the lobby as you finally opened the door and stepped inside. With Angel by your side, you ascended the stairs, each of you carrying at least a dozen bags. Arriving at the room where you had slept the previous night, you both placed everything inside before bidding farewell to your new friend. Closing the door behind him, you sauntered over to the bed and flopped down face-first with a groan. It had indeed been a long day, and it wasn't even past 4pm.

With a sigh, you pulled yourself up from the soft sheets, reaching for the book you had smuggled out of the library. Opening it, you turned to the first page with determination.

"Demon magic, here we go!"

[luckyduckwrites]

The Moon Chapter 2-8: Chasing Mysteries

Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Della Duck (Disney) & Original Character(s), Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck (Disney) & Original Character(s), Lena (Disney: DuckTales) & Webby Vanderquack & Original Character(s), Violet Sabrewing (Disney) & Original Character(s), Scrooge McDuck & Original Character(s)

Characters: Della Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck (Disney), Donald Duck (Disney), Huey Duck (Disney), Louie Duck (Disney), Scrooge McDuck, Webby Vanderquack, Lena (Disney: DuckTales), Violet Sabrewing (Disney), Penumbra (Disney: DuckTales), Lunaris (Disney: DuckTales), Gibbous (Disney: DuckTales), Zenith (Disney: DuckTales), Original Trans Character(s)

Additional Tags: Original Character-centric, No Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Older Sibling Huey Duck (Disney), Older Sibling Dewey Duck, Sensitive Louie Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck Has ADHD (Disney), Aromantic Asexual Dewey Duck (Disney), Protective Huey Duck (Disney), Autistic Huey Duck (Disney), Anxious Huey Duck (Disney), Good Sibling Huey Duck (Disney), Good Parent Della Duck (Disney), Della Duck Tries (Disney), Della Duck Needs a Hug (Disney), Della Duck has ADHD (Disney), Protective Della Duck (Disney), Della Duck Has PTSD (Disney), Minor Della Duck/Penumbra (Disney: DuckTales), POV Original Character

Summary:

My name is Clover Duck. My mom accidentally took my egg with her on the rocket, and we got stuck on the moon. I've only ever seen the vast nothing of the moon, but the colors on Earth look like they would be beautiful. Mom and I chew a gum called Oxy-Chew that allows us to breathe, and it gives us the nutrients we need to survive. My mom tells me that I have three brothers on Earth, and I can't wait to meet them!

A/N: After A Nightmare on Kilmotor Hill, Clover uses the name Lucky and uses he/him. Please respect that in the comments after that chapter.

**AO3 & Wattpad links in masterpost pinned to the top of the blog**

After finishing all of the books I checked out from the library, I walk around the mansion trying to find something to do when I pass by Uncle Scrooge’s home office.

I walk in, curious what he was doing, and ask, “Whatcha doing?”

He jumps, startled, and nearly drops his tweezers onto his desk.

He replies, “Ack, ya startled me, lass. You must get that from your mother. I was just building a miniature Money Bin in this bottle here.”

I ask, “Why?”

He uses his tweezers to grab a small tree and places it carefully inside the clear bottle, responding, “Why not?”

I shrug, saying, “Fair enough.”

Just then, Dewey slams the door wide open, accidentally making Uncle Scrooge knock over the tree he just placed. Dewey’s holding a photograph with a look of excitement on his face. Dewey shows Uncle Scrooge and I the photo he’s holding, and it’s the one Mom drew what she thought my brothers would look like on the back of. The front of the photo, the side I’m less familiar with, shows Mom, Uncle Scrooge, and an unfamiliar duck standing in front of four eggs. This photo, however, has a fifth egg. It’s more yellow in appearance, though.

I ask, “What’s this?”

Dewey exclaims, “I’ve uncovered a conspiracy! Photographic evidence proves that there is a fifth quadruplet. A quintuplet, if you will. We must find Phooey Duck! By the way, I named him Phooey.”

Uncle Scrooge takes the photo from Dewey’s hands and examines it, then wipes away the yellow egg.

He says, “Uh, that fifth egg is a mustard stain.”

Dewey asks, “But who was eating a sandwich while looking at a photo album?” He gasps, adding, “Phooey strikes again!”

I say, “What? Now you’re just reaching. Besides, if there really was another egg, wouldn’t Mom know about it?”

Webby bursts in next, holding up a confusing web of pictures and lines.

She exclaims, “Who’s ready for the greatest family secret of all time? I was going through the family tree when I realized the branches correspond to geographical points of a map. This could lead to the Silver Sporran of Clan McDuck!”

Uncle Scrooge points to a suit of armor by the well, saying, “Found it years ago, thank you.”

I ask, “Why are you guys trying to find mysteries where there are none? And more importantly, can I join you? I’ve been bored all day.”

Dewey says, “Sure. You can join us. We’ve got to be able to make something out of this. Hold on, I can pull a mystery out of this. Mustard stain. Mustard is in the fridge. Family tree. What grows on trees? Peppers, I assume.” Uncle Scrooge shakes his head ‘no’, but Dewey continues, “But Beakley hasn’t bought peppers in years.”

Webby exclaims, “Ghost peppers!”

Dewey adds, “It’s all connected!”

Webby grabs my hand, adding, “Let’s go!”

Just before we leave the office, Uncle Scrooge calls out, “Hang on! An adventure has to call to you. Ya cannae just go around making up mysteries.”

Webby says, “We spent so much time on the mystery of the Spear of Selene. Now that Della and Clover are back, we’re hungry for a new epicly complex, multi-part family mystery to solve!”

Huey walks past in the hall as I open the door, saying, “Huh. My postcard to Uncle Donald was returned. That’s weird.”

Dewey, Webby, and I gasp.

Dewey asks, “You hear that, girls?”

Webby adds, “It’s the call to adventure!”

I add, “Let’s go solve a mystery!”

We invite him to my brothers’ room then rush off, where Dewey sets up what he calls his ‘internet talk show’ Dewey Dew-Night. Dewey and Webby are dressed as detectives, and I’m just in my normal green with a junior detective sticker badge. I darken the room for mood lighting and turn on a spotlight as he sits on the couch.

Huey asks, “Um, hello?”

Dewey says from his spot at his desk, “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Huey says in a confused tone, “You asked me to come here?”

Webby pops out and spooks Huey, then says in a low tone, “We know what we asked.”

Huey says, “Oh, I see. You guys are doing good cop/bad cop.”

Webby says, “We’re all bad cop.”

Dewey adds, “I prefer to be called Dew-tective.”

I add, “And we’re not leaving ‘til we have all the information we need.”

Webby holds up Huey’s returned postcard, and asks, “Hey, bub. This look familiar?”

Huey responds, “That’s the postcard I sent Uncle Donald. It was returned.”

Dewey says, “Uncle Donald loves sending cheesy vacation postcards. It’s the only reason he goes anywhere. Not only haven’t we received any cards from him on his vacation, but now the ones we’ve sent him are returned.”

Webby adds, “Almost as if he’s gone missing!

I add, “Tell us what you know, Hubert!”

Huey asks, “Why are you yelling at me?!”

Dewey says, “Chin up, kid. We’ll find out what happened to the postcard and your uncle.”

Huey says, “He’s your uncle too. He’s on a cruise. It’s hard to get mail to a boat. Mystery solved.”

Webby says, “We’ll be the judge of that.”

Dewey adds, “We’re on the case.”

Huey asks, “What case?!”

I respond, “The case of the mysterious returned postcard, duh. We’re off!”

We race off to the front door, leaving Huey in the room looking more confused than before. This is pretty fun, playing detective and hanging out with Dewey and Webby.

Dewey says while rubbing the postcard against his forehead, “To find out where the returned postcard has been, we must get inside the head of the postcard.”

I ask, “You mean like the head of the guy on the stamp?”

Dewey says, “Ha, my dear Clover, don’t be naive. We’re going to ship ourselves to the address the postcard was sent to, find out what went wrong there, find Uncle Donald, and solve the most epic mystery since the Spear of Selene. Woo hoo!”

I ask, “How are we going to ship ourselves?”

Dewey grabs a large box from inside, and says, “Like this, sister.”

The three of us hop inside the box and Dewey tapes the top of it up with a small slit through the top for us to see out of, and we start giggling as a mail lady walks up to the box and starts picking it up.

Webby whispers, “Shh, shh, she’s right there.”

Dewey adds, “She doesn’t suspect a thing.”

I add, “We’re going to a boat!”

We keep giggling until the box is lifted up, and the bottom opens, leaving us on the ground.

Webby asks, “Did you forget to tape the bottom of the box?”

Dewey stands up and accidentally knocks me onto my back as he says, “Yet another mystery we must solve, but first -” He turns to the mail lady, exclaiming, “What did you do to Donald Duck?!”

The mail lady responds, “Um, nothing.”

I say, “I don’t think the mail lady did anything to Donald. He’s probably just off relaxing on that cruise and forgot to write home.”

The mail lady asks, “Wait, wait. Donald Duck lives here? He never forwarded his address from the pier. I got a ton of his mail.”

She dumps a large pile of envelopes on top of Dewey and walks off.

Dewey digs through the mail, saying, “Gasp! Possible clues! Bill, bill, another bill. Man, being an adult is not fun.”

I say, “Huh. They’re all from the same address. Weird.”

Webby gasps, adding, “How mysterious.”

Dewey says, “Not for long.” He opens and reads one of the letters, “‘Your life is a nonstop deluge of pain. If you want it to stop, pay up. -Jones’.”

Webby asks, “Is your Uncle Donald being blackmailed?”

I say, “Sounds more like extortion to me.”

Dewey exclaims, “He’s not missing, he’s on the run! We’ve gotta save him before he’s stuck in a tight spot he can’t get out of.”

We navigate our way to the address, which is a run-down building on the other side of town, but the number on the building looks off.

Webby says, “this should be 9 Elm Street, not 93 Elm Street.” Bugs that were spelling out the letter 3 skitter away, and she adds, “Ooh, seedy!”

Dewey scoots away from me as I pick up one of the bugs, examining it. It looks like some kind of caterpillar. Fascinating little thing. I rub its head, surprised at how fluffy it feels.

I release the caterpillar, and Dewey says, “Ugh. Uncle Donald must be hiding from this Jones guy that lives here.”

The three of us duck into a bush as a dog man, probably Jones, enters the building after fiddling with a key ring for the correct one.

After he’s out of earshot, Dewey says, “Here’s the plan. I’ll use my spy skills to find more info on Uncle Donald while you distract Jones at the front door pretending to be -”

Webby interrupts him and grabs out a locket shaped like half of a broken heart while saying, “Alexa Pretzelkov, a volunteer collecting signatures to stop a greedy land developer from shutting down the summer camp while also looking for the missing half of this locket!”

I say, “That’s too complicated of a backstory, but now I’m curious. Where is the other half?”

Webby shrugs, and Dewey says, “Ah, I already stole Huey’s Junior Woodchuck outfit. Maybe this time, you could pretend to sell cookies?”

Webby groans, but relents, “Fine, but if that summer camp shuts down, it’s on you.”

I ask, “What about me? What am I gonna do?”

Dewey responds, “I need an extra hand Looking around Jones’s office. It’ll be easier to find evidence with two pairs of hands than one.”

I nod, and Dewey and I split off from Webby as she gets changed into the Junior Woodchuck outfit over her clothes. We sneak around the back door, and sneak inside an open window when we spot him headed for the front door for his distraction.

As we look around, Dewey sings quietly, “Dew Dew Dewey Dewey -” He stops singing, saying, “No wait, wait. Don’t want to blow my cover.” He then continues quietly saying, “Not not Dewey Dewey, definitely not Dewey Dew -”

I put a finger to his bill to stop him, whispering, “Just shush, Dew-tective. We’re supposed to be quiet, remember?”

He rolls his eyes, and we start looking around. After a few minutes of searching with no results, Webby enters the room and Dewey nearly falls over in surprise.

He says, “Ah! Never sneak up on a kid detective/spy like that. I could’ve injured/killed you.” Webby and I send matching deadpanned expressions at him, and he nervously adds, “Yeah, I- I know.”

I ask, “Where’s Jones?”

Webby responds, “I got him searching his drawers for half of a missing locket.”

I ask, “Wait, really?”

Webby responds, “Yeah. My backstory was that good.”

I find a small key on Jones’s desk and successfully open a drawer of the file cabinet next to his desk with the key. I search through the drawer and find something peculiar.

I say, “Guys, look at this. I found a huge file on Donald in here.”

I open it and we look through it together, Webby saying, “Whoa. This file has dates, locations, and names of every bad thing that’s ever happened to Donald.”

I add, “Everything from a bad date to when Mom and I got launched in the Spear into space.”

Dewey adds, “Every setback and problem in Uncle Donald’s life. Has Jones caused it all?”

We hear a deep, gravely voice behind us, and we turn around to see Jones. Crap.

He says, “Uncle Donald? You’re part of this, too! And I know just who to call to take care of it.”

He locks us in a closet, and I start feeling claustrophobic, remembering the small rooms on the Spear of Selene. I unconsciously start chewing my cheek for comfort, and frantically banging against the locked door. I’m not on the moon, I know that! So why do I feel like I am? And why do I feel so scared of it? The moon wasn’t so bad, but the Spear was just… so small. Way too small. Like this closet. It feels like I’m being suffocated, like the walls are slowly closing in toward me. I start feeling tears form in the corners of my eyes as I bang harder on the door.

I exclaim, “Let us out! Please! You can’t keep us in here!”

Dewey pulls me away from the door, saying, “Clover, calm down! Just take a deep breath. We’ll find out what’s going on and get out of here soon. I promise. You’re okay.”

I lean against the wall and slide to the floor, trying to take deep breaths as the tears start falling down my cheeks. I never realized just how comfortable I’ve gotten in the large open rooms of the mansion or how miserable it was on the moon with just Mom for company. After around a half hour, I’ve calmed down a bit as Dewey sits next to me, holding my hand for comfort. I’m still sniffling and curled into myself, but I’m not crying anymore.

Webby asks, “Who is Jones working for? The Beagle Boys? FOWL? Oh, I bet it’s those greedy land developers trying to ruin everyone’s summer!”

The door opens, revealing Uncle Scrooge.

Dewey, Webby, and I gasp, and Webby asks, “Uncle Scrooge? You’re in on it, too?!”

Dewey exclaims, “Give Alexa back her locket, old man!”

Uncle Scrooge says, “Old man? Now you owe Mr. Jones and me an apology.”

Dewey says, “Not until Jones explains why he’s been blackmailing Uncle Donald and ruining his life.”

Uncle Scrooge says, “Jones isn’t Donald’s enemy! He’s Donald’s anger management counselor.”

We step out of the closet, and Uncle Scrooge wipes dust off of the closet’s window, revealing an anger management sign.

Dewey continues holding my hand as Jones explains, “Each of these dates corresponds to a hard time in Donald’s life. To cope, he came here to vent his frustration.”

He gestures to a ripped-up punching bag and scattered destroyed furniture. He must have what Mom called ‘the Duck family anger’. Mom had it, too.

I ask, “But what about that letter? ‘Donald, your life is a nonstop deluge of pain. If you want it to stop, pay up. -Jones’?”

Jones grabs another letter out of the envelope, exclaiming, “It’s attached to a bill. Anger management’s not free!”

Dewey says, “No. If Uncle Donald was seeing you, then why is he still the angriest guy we know?”

I add, “And why’s all this furniture so beat up?”

Webby adds, “Yeah, what have you done to help him?”

Jones explains, “I found the source of his anger. Donald’s anger issues stem from a fear that the world is out to get him, and that no one understands him quite literally. His tendency to lash out was wildly unfocused, until you kids came along.”

I ask, “Huh? What do my brothers have to do with it?”

Jones continues, “He came to me wanting to be the best parent he could, so we channeled that anger into protective instincts. Every outburst is Donald wanting to protect his family. He loves you so much, the thought of anything bad happening to you infuriates him!”

Wow. Even though I’ve never met him, I feel like he must have been an amazing parent to my brothers growing up.

We exit the building with Uncle Scrooge, who exclaims to Jones, “If you want someone to pay Donald’s bills, you can speak to that invoice-avoiding ingrate yourself!”

Webby says, “You were right, Uncle Scrooge. We shouldn’t have gone looking for a mystery where there wasn’t one.”

I add, “Well, it was fun while it lasted. Except for being locked in a small closet and discovering a new fear.”

Dewey says, “But we did find a mystery, dear Webby. The mystery of why Donald Duck is mad at the world; because he loves us.”

I say, “But we still don’t know why Huey’s postcard to Donald was returned in the first place.”

Uncle Scrooge gets a call on his phone and answers it, but I can’t make out anything other than a few words from a garbled voice.

Uncle Scrooge flips his phone shut, saying, “This reception’s terrible. Sounds like he’s coming home in a month. He seems to be having a great time.”

Something passes overhead, but I can’t quite make out what it is through the thick clouds. I wish I got to meet my uncle. Maybe someday when he gets back from his cruise.

[likesunsetorange]

I am extremely excited about the bodyguard au! Tbh at first I thought it was gonna be a really weird au, but now I can't wait!!! I also want to say that dol is the best eremika fanfic I've ever read ( and trust me I've read A LOT of them). I really hope the next chapter comes out soon cause I really miss it 😭. Your work is amazing!

lol at first glance i can understand that a bodyguard au does sound a little off so i don’t blame you haha but im glad youre excited!! its one of my favs so im really excited to share with yall!

and thank you omg, that means so much!! ik ive been treating dol like my bastard child lmao but i promise it’ll be coming soon ive been working on ch 17!! dol is my biggest love it brought me to eremika and all my friends on here so it’ll always be the favorite ��� but thank you again for reading all my stuff, im really glad you enjoy all my silly little stories!!!

here’s a little snippet from ch 17 just bc i feel like i never talk about dol on tumblr LOL i feel like i only do on twitter!!

The pads of Mikasa’s fingertips were gentle across his skin, rubbing soap across his skin in circular motions as to not further irritate the numerous burns the accident left him with. Even the smallest of touches would irritate his injuries, but Mikasa had always been delicate in everything she did.

It was the stark difference between the two of them—Mikasa approached life with a level of caution and tenderness that Eren had never possessed. He had gone through so much of his life approaching everything with a sense of callousness, always brash and aggressiveness, but it was as if all of Mikasa’s benevolence had somehow rubbed off onto Eren. He was certain part of it was a result of all the time they spent together, but also because Mikasa was deserving of all that was good—even from him.

The cool shower stream drew gently against her back, her dark hair slicked back from the water, droplets of water falling gingerly down her face. Her fingers traced the outlines of the where his scars spanned from his wrist to the curvature of his shoulder, some spots more mangled than others. A sullen look washed across her face, and he could see the faintest trace of her lip quivering.

“These are gonna scar,” she said quietly, her voice almost inaudible over the stream of the shower.

“And if they do, it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll get to tell everyone who asks how I almost got burned to death trying to play hero,” he attempted to reassure her. She gave him a reproachful look, evidently unable to appreciate the “humor” in his words. His face softened at her expression, knowing despite his constant reassurances, she was still shaken up by the accident.

“Mikasa…” He started softly. “I’m here right now, aren’t I? I’m okay, I promise. You don’t have to keep worrying.” Eren took the hand that was still inspecting his multiple burns and brought it to his chest, just above his heart. “You feel that? I’m alive and I’m okay. I’m here talking to you, and I have no intentions of going anywhere else. I’m here to stay as long as I’m able to—I can promise you that much, cariño.”

Her mouth opened as if to protest but she merely pressed her lips into a thin line, opting to merely nod in response instead. Her eyes had the glossed-over look they did whenever she was about to cry, only he knew that she wouldn’t allow herself to—not now, at least.

Eren’s face fell into a frown, knowing that whatever unspoken thoughts were running rampant in her head, were the exact opposite of not worrying. “Mikasa, look at me,” he urged, tilting her chin up so that her eyes met his. “Please, don’t worry anymore—if not for yourself, then for me. I will do everything on your list to the T, I promise. I won’t even try to still go on my runs like I had been secretly planning to—”

“Eren, what the hell? It’s almost like you don’t wanna get better or something,” she chastised, the scowl he had grown to appreciate perched on her face.

“Which is exactly why I’m not going to anymore, I don’t want you to keep stressing about this—about me.”

[livsworld-ndstyle]

so im genuinely at a block so I'm gonna post my old neurodivergent thoughts onto one post.

DISCLAIMER: all the names presented in this are real.

… accidentally having an over-obsession with a special interest. okay… i sometimes consider mrs. tavernise a special interest :D because she understands me, i can confide in her, etc. i also have taken a decent number of her FGF recommendations and one of them being ruta sepetys i must betray you. in the middle of class, she was handing out these packets we’re making for mockingbird and she whispered to me, “when you leave class, look at the one-school one-book poster on my door.” and i understood the assignment. i looked, and because i was next to clover, i said, “omg!! no way. i can’t believe it!” i was ecstatic with joy. … finding a special interest is more fun than what’s actually happening around me. i was so bored in english that i started drawing some nice little sketches on my to kill a mockingbird worksheet. and it was fun. i wasn’t looking up to take any notes from her papers, i wasn’t myself. and i guess she realized that really quick, because i normally ALWAYS pay attention to her but i was feeling lazy and became clover. clover normally draws AND pays attention AND takes notes. i felt stupid. anyways she came up to me because it was evident that something happened. i was disappointed in my essay grade so it’s implied. anyway, she said, “make sure you get the notes from someone, okay?” like NO now that you told me I will NOT get the notes (in protest!!).

…forgetting not everyone is passionate about your special interest. i was drawing on my to kill a mockingbird essay packet and i drew a picture of mrs. tavernise in her black dress for like thirty minutes. at the end of the period i took a picture of it and showed it to her, expecting her to like it. she told me i had to start paying more attention, and i later asked her how to pay attention, and she said, stop drawing. don’t worry, I later resolved this conflict. i got an 88 on the essay! i’m so awesome :) 

… doing something that is not stated in the directions & redirection

i haven’t had to be redirected to drawing during class in a good couple of days or weeks. i love drawing, it’s a passion i semi-enjoy, and we were analyzing quotes in groups. so of course i assume i’m working with clover because so far preferred groups seem to be working. i hear clover’s name and get excited to listen for mine, but for some reason, she paired clover up with their respective partners in the same seating vicinity. i didn’t really care, so for our first part: quiet analysis, i start just casually drawing a speech bubble around the quote but rudely interrupted by mrs. tavernise’s pointer finger pointing to the quote. normally if i just draw i can get away with it, and i thought today was going to be one of those days. however, because mrs. tavernise is making us do a follow-up project; similar to the kill a mockingbird essay, she’s trying to make sure everyone’s on track. even the most neurodiverse of us.

luckily, liyana khan is my fav. she had two extra donuts and came outside my english class to give me half a donut.

she did have to talk to my english teacher -- kinda weird -- because i’d completely forgotten liyana’d promised me a half and mrs. tavernise gave no context whatsoever, except that whoever was outside needed me for 2 minutes. i had my donut and bumped into ms. moss. PERFECT TIMING, much? i told mrs. moss to come into my english class and help me with this because i couldn’t understand the quote, part of the reason i was drawing. she helped 10x a lot, and obviously mrs. tavernise seemed to be death-glancing me weirdly. i tried my hardest after that to avoid all eye contact with her. 

tysm for brightening my day liyana & mrs. moss!! :D

..and mrs. tavernise… don’t ever put me with boys EVER AGAIN. 

[sentimental-idiot25]

SasuSaku Shoujo Week Day Four: Fake Dating

{modern au}

Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had planned to meet at a park, seeking a much-needed opportunity to catch up without the presence of anyone else or the weight of college-level studying. Sakura strolled towards the bench where she spotted Sasuke engrossed in his phone. As she removed the earbuds from her ears, she drew nearer. Sensing a presence approaching him, Sasuke shifted his attention from his phone to the figure approaching him. Sakura greeted him with a smile and wave, and Sasuke responded with a wave of his own.

”Hey!" Sakura began the conversation.

"Hi," Sasuke replied.

"So, how's life treating you?" Sakura inquired.

"Good. How about you?" Sasuke responded.

"Hinata set me up on a blind date last night, and it was a disaster," Sakura shared, a tinge of frustration evident in her voice.

"Oh, really? What happened?" Sasuke asked, genuinely interested.

"He couldn't stop checking his phone! I mean, either I'm incredibly dull, or he had better things to do," Sakura exclaimed, raising her hands in frustration.

"On a first date, you should never do that. He was just being a jerk," Sasuke offered some comforting words to alleviate Sakura's concerns.

"You've been on quite a few first dates lately, huh, Sasuke?" Sakura teased, playfully poking his arm.

"I've also been set up on some terrible blind dates. The matchmaking attempts have been completely off the mark. I'm fed up with it," Sasuke chuckled softly.

"Me too!" Sakura groaned. "It's exhausting, and I expected our friends to understand us better than this, to set us up with people we actually click with."

"Ah, the perks of being the only two single people in our friend group," Sasuke commented with lackluster enthusiasm, matching the tone of his statement with underwhelming jazz hands.

"It's surprising they haven't tried to set us up with each other," Sakura said, lightly gripping her knees, her words revealing a hint of embarrassment.

They exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

"Yeah, I don't think we'd work out together," Sasuke laughed.

"Hmph, and what makes you say that?" Sakura playfully teased.

"I don't think our personalities align," Sasuke quickly replied, not wanting to upset Sakura.

"Hmm, I'm not convinced. We've been friends for almost our entire lives..." Sakura retorted, obviously annoyed.

"Don't be stubborn," he teased, "Anyway, where's Naruto?" Sasuke checked his phone. "That idiot thought we were meeting at midnight, not noon."

"Who does that?" Sakura exclaimed. "But getting back to the topic of me being undateable..."

"You're not undateable. I just don't want to jeopardize our friendship, you know?" Sasuke explained.

"Ah, that makes sense, I guess," Sakura laughed. "But imagine if we actually dated! Everyone would be shocked. Plus, we wouldn't have to endure these terrible blind dates anymore."

"That would be nice," Sasuke smiled.

Sakura gasped, a sudden realization hitting her. "That's it! I've got an idea!"

"What do you mean?" Sasuke asked, intrigued.

"We should pretend to date! Just for a while, to get everyone off our backs. And once we find someone we genuinely like, we 'break up'," Sakura proposed, making air quotes with her fingers. "What do you say?"

"But won't they be skeptical?" Sasuke questioned.

"Well, like I said earlier, we've been friends for such a long time. I don't think anyone would question it," Sakura shrugged.

"Well... okay, deal," Sasuke agreed, extending his hand for Sakura to shake. She took his hand and gave it a jolt of excitement.

Their bodies subtly leaned towards each other as they delved into the logistics of their fake dating plan. The early noon sun cast a warm glow, enhancing the beauty of the cherry trees surrounding the park.

A brief moment of silence hung between them.

Nervously twirling a strand of her hair, Sakura stole glances at Sasuke from the corner of her eye. "I can't believe we're actually going through with this, Sasuke. But it's better than enduring another disastrous blind date, right?"

Sasuke's onyx eyes met Sakura's emerald gaze, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Agreed. It's been nothing but awkward encounters so far. Maybe this fake dating thing will put an end to that."

As they continued their conversation, Sakura's mind wandered. Memories from their childhood resurfaced, reminding her of the days when she secretly admired Sasuke. Her heart fluttered then, and even now, in this unconventional situation, it seemed to do the same.

A similar sentiment echoed in Sasuke's mind. Sakura had always been more than just a childhood friend. She was his secret crush, someone he admired for her determination and kindness. The realization that they were embarking on this fake dating journey together stirred something deep within him, though he couldn't quite define it.

With each passing moment, Sakura and Sasuke grew more at ease. Their laughter became genuine, their gestures more comfortable. They found themselves leaning closer, sharing inside jokes and stolen glances that hinted at a connection beyond their pretense.

Unbeknownst to them, fate had intertwined their lives long ago, and this plan was merely a stepping stone toward a future they were destined to embrace. The park, the cherry blossoms, and the warmth between them became symbols of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface, awaiting the perfect moment to bloom.

Hours slipped away as they lost track of time. Sasuke glanced at his phone, realizing that five hours had passed since they started talking. "That damn Naruto never showed up."

"Well, would that make this our unofficial official first fake dating date?" Sakura giggled, a hint of excitement lacing her voice.

Sasuke couldn't help but chuckle in response, his stoic demeanor momentarily giving way to amusement. "I suppose it would," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

[totalswag]

podcast therapuss ⎯ 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑾 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝒀

authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.

warning(s) none!

About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.

The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.

You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.

Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.

“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.

"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."

"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"

You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.

"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."

Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.

You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.

"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.

"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.

"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.

Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.

Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."

You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.

Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”

You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.

Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.

“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.

Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”

The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.

A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.

You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.

You scream. Literally scream.

Drew Starkey followed you.

Drew Starkey sent you a message.

"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.

Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.

Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!

What do you say?

How do you come off calmly?

Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.

Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.

After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.

One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 

You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.

Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨

Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting

When worlds collide fr 😏

Alright where the cameras at...

I fucking knew it!!!!

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@runningfrom2am @chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris @darkacademictrash @pwertiies @claudiamoscatoo @stir-knee-o-low @ratgirlcunt @drewstxrky

[ssparksflyy]

piper mclean dating hcs !

pairing : piper mclean x gn!reader warnings : cursing ( whoops ! ) a/n : heart eyes for this girl I SWEARRRRR

piper mclean ily pls marry me

piper is SO sweet to you ♡♡

this girl LOVES to spoil you

we all know she's got MONEY because of her dad

and girlie just adores spending money on things she loves

( aka you )

piper doesn't care about the thousands of times you've told her that it really wasn't necessary, and she didn't have to get you anything

she'll do it anyway cause she knows you'll repay her with a kiss 😋

of course, piper'll buy you things that she knows you like or have had you eye on

but she'll also buy you things that'll remind you of her

allow me to explain

say, you don't like hello kitty / it just isn't something you pay attention to

( everybody moved on, i stayed there. page 5. annabeth's pov. mark of athena. "today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink hello kitty designs." dont play w me )

anyway, say you don't like hello kitty, piper'll still buy you like a tiny plushie or key chain that you can carry wherever, and it'll remind you of her

she also buys herself things that you like, so she can also get reminded of you !

speaking of buying things, piper has all of your favorite colors ( youre lying if you say you only have one ), favorite snacks, fast food orders, and alllll of your preferences down and memorized in her brain for whenever you go out together ♡♡

but just in case she also has them down on a small notepad she carries in her bag

piper is an addict.

what's she addicted to you may ask, kissing you

she's always peppering you face with quick little kisses

and then when she stops, she'll just stand there, leaning her cheek towards you cause she'd "very greatly appreciate it if you could return the favor"

at least she's honest !!

piper'll kiss you at the most random times

lets be real this girl does not give 2 fucks about pda, she's with her #1, got a problem with it?

so she'll just sneak up behind you, spin you around and peck your lips

she's so cute i love her

now

say you were a little nervous about dating piper, becauses yk, many children of aphrodite want their rite of passage, and she can charmspeak

piper will literally do anything it take for you to trust her completely

i don't think she'd exactly be hurt if you had your doubts in the beginning of your relationship, like, she gets it, but she'd still want to try and prove you can trust her as quickly as she cam

she'd literally never use her charmspeak on you unless she HAS to

like say you were gonna do something really stupid

despite your protests, saying that you'll be fine, and nothing will happen

she'll still give you a dead look and drag you away

she's js looking out for you ya know

piper's favorite "hobby" is spending time with you

if you tell her that's not a hobby she'll straight up pull out her claim evidence and reasoning

she loves cuddling in the aphrodite cabin, as a way to be like "HAH yall wish you could have thisss" to her jerk siblings *cough* DREW

piper likes trying different things, i feel like she'd be really crafty ngl

like she'll LOVE making matching frinedship bracelets for you

and im talking like NICE ones like she's got soo many beads omg

she was for sure one of those kids who started a buisness in elementary school

( as if she wasnt already rich )

she'd be so excited to make some with you

and ofc she'll want to teach u how to make fancy wavy ones yk

her love language is definitely quality time fight me

in summary, if ur looking for a hot, adorable, trustworthy, affectionate, caring, sweet, spoils u, mrs. treat ! you ! right! , piper's the one for youuuuu !!

a/n pt. 2 : hii! hope u enjoyed this but omg i feel like its kinda short and all i did was ramble abt random stuff in this one ahhh srry

thats all for now! wishing u a wonderful day / night !

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson

[acciomorningstar]

Yule Ball (Poppy Sweeting x Slytherin Reader)

I have been meaning to indulge my PoppyxReader Slytherpuff urges for a while now and the amazing blog by @lotterpotter basically gave me just the creative spark I needed <3

So without further ado, here’s Poppy Sweeting and Slytherin Reader at the Yule Ball, inspired by a post by @lotterpotter

“Do you know who I saw this morning?” Poppy overheard a Ravenclaw whispering when she was busy taking notes during a particularly long monologue from professor Hecat. “F/N L/N – carrying a rose.”

“L/N?” the Ravenclaw’s classmate asked, sounding surprised. “Why, I knew they were Slytherin royalty, but I didn’t suspect there’d be someone mad enough to actually ask them out –”

“Clearly they must be of high standing. I wonder who it could be…”

Poppy made sure to keep her head down when the Ravenclaw turned around so as not to give away the downcast expression on her face. Of course she had not expected anyone to ask her to the yule ball, but that didn’t quite explain the hollow feeling in her stomach. Maybe it was because she had allowed herself a silly shimmer of hope. She knew that you liked to spend time with her outside of classes, but obviously that was just because of the beasts. And there had been this one time where you had confided in her how you hated all the attention you got, grumbling that it was only because of your family – though obviously Poppy had been stupid enough to interpret that as meaning that you were actually more interested in her. It seemed such an embarrassing thought now: that there was really ever any possibility that Slytherin’s most sought-after student would really ask her, Peculiar Poppy, to a school dance. The rose obviously only confirmed what she had known deep down all along.

She didn’t talk much to others that day, preferring the company of the Puffskeins and Kneazles in professor Howin’s pen to that of her excited classmates. After her last class, however, she made the mistake of bumping into a group of other fifth-years when she had been contemplating how to occupy herself on the evening of the ball. One of them turned around at her with a mocking grin on his face. “Hey, Peculiar Poppy, we were just talking about you! So, tell us, will your date have fur or scales?”

They all burst out in howling laughter as Poppy felt her face flushing red. She tried to think of a clever retort, realised she was lost for words and tried to force a way through, but they cornered her without much effort. Just as she started to panic, someone in the back cleared their throat, causing the group to hurriedly split apart with uneasy expressions on their faces.

“I would like to speak to Poppy alone,” you said coldly, staring daggers at every single one of them. “Are you going to clear out or would you rather prefer I demonstrate my new jinx on one of you?”

Evidently no one was particularly eager to become a test subject, so they quickly picked up their bags and dispersed, leaving the two of you to stare at each other. Poppy noticed how you were holding a hand behind your back and guessed you had come to tell her about your date. In hindsight, maybe she would have preferred to endure the taunting instead.

“So, eh…” she began, trying to mask the disappointment in her voice, “t-thank you. I suppose you wanted to plan our next visit to Highwing?”

She was somewhat surprised to notice that you didn’t answer directly, and even more to notice that your cheeks were red; she was almost positive she had never seen you blush. “Actually,” you murmured, “I was meaning to ask you about… something else.”

You took a deep breath, drew your hand from behind your back, and before Poppy could register what was happening she suddenly found herself with a beautiful black rose held out to her. “I was wondering… if you would possibly consider… going to the dance with me.”

The Hufflepuff stood there completely frozen for quite some time, causing you to start fidgeting and mutter something about not being good at this. Then, she suddenly screeched and took the rose from you, bouncing on her feet. Your face broke open in a relieved smile and you asked: “So… I suppose that is a yes?”

There was really no spell or potion capable of helping Poppy find the words to describe the feeling washing over her in that moment, and so she just threw her arms around you to pull you into a hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.

* * *

Poppy quickly came down from the high she had been riding that day to transfigure into a complete ball of nerves the week before the ball. All of a sudden everyone in the corridors seemed to be staring at her and they probably were. Worst of all, she was perfectly aware she would likely be the centre of attention at the ball as well, which made her feel even more anxious. She was absolutely terrified she would become tongue-tied again or forget her moves and freeze up on the dance floor or do something else to ruin your big night. After her acceptation, you made every effort to reassure her, randomly dropping in after classes to check on her and bark at anyone who dared to give her as much as a funny look. You sweetly enlisted Natty to seek out a dress with her instead of going yourself, giving the Hufflepuff a chance to vent her anxiety, though by the start of the big night she was still thinking about making up some excuse to stay in the common room.

Eventually she managed to talk some sense into herself – could it really be worse than taking care of a hippogriff with a cold? – and headed up the stairs where you had agreed to meet. As soon as she saw you, she instantly realised it would be infinitely worse than taking care of an ill hippogriff. You had made an sincere effort to dress modestly, but your stately aura almost automatically caused the entire room to gravitate towards you. Still, you ignored all the looks around you with your usual air of disinterest. In fact, the only one you had eyes for was the Hufflepuff coming up the stairs.

“You look stunning,” you remarked, your eyes drifting to the black rose Poppy had put in her hair.

“Y-you look very pretty as well,” she could only reply, desperately trying to figure out where to look or put her hands. Taking notice, you offered your arm for her to take. “Shall we go, then?”

Poppy nodded, admittedly feeling slightly better with you by her side, but not much. The Great Hall had been transformed into a gorgeous ballroom, with white trees lining the walls and snow flowing down from the enchanted ceiling. It all seemed right out of one of the princess stories Poppy used to read when she was younger. It was a shame she felt anything but a princess right now, even with all the looks and hushed whispers coming from the crowd when the two of you entered the room. She looked up to catch a glimpse of you flashing a comforting smile at her. Were they already starting to regret asking me out? she wondered. Surely by now it must have gotten through to them that they could have so much better?

You met up with Natty – who almost seemed the complete opposite of Poppy in how excited she was – to have a brief chat and then took your place with the other couples as you waited for the music to start. Just as she was trying to focus on her breathing, Poppy suddenly felt her hand being squeezed tightly and looked up to notice a nervous expression on your face.

“I think it’s time I made a confession,” you whispered to her, “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Wha –” Poppy replied with an open mouth, “Really?”

You nodded earnestly. “I… I was hoping you could guide me. You can do that, can’t you?”

She was momentarily lost for words: of course she had been practicing every day since accepting the invitation, but that didn’t mean she was in any way ready to take the lead. Still, it didn’t look like she had much choice. So when the music kicked in, she took a deep breath and led you on the dance floor, whispering to you to follow her lead.

It quickly turned out you had not been exaggerating. You were more clumsy than a mooncalf, constantly stumbling, tripping over your feet and forgetting the steps to each song. Fortunately Poppy was there to help, carrying the two of you with a grace she didn’t even know she was capable of. She gently led you through every song, completely focused on your joint rhythm. Every now and then you would lock eyes and the Hufflepuff could feel her cheeks reddening – but not because of embarrassment. In fact, by the sixth song she had completely forgotten to be nervous and was even insisting you join Natty and Sebastian for a group dance, getting so excited that she tripped and suddenly found herself in your arms as you smiled down at her with a cheeky grin.

After a while, she decided to confront you as you were taking a break to down some punch. “Say,” she said, tracing the rim of her glass with a finger, “you actually aren’t so terrible at dancing as you pretended to be, are you?”

“I suppose having an excellent teacher made a big difference,” you answered nonchalantly, barely making an effort to hide the joy in your voice.

Poppy smiled at you. “You can be really sweet sometimes, you know that?”

And before you could react, the Hufflepuff had already veered up to extend her hand. “May I have this next dance, my dear?”

[hekateinhell]

You say Armand/Daniel weren't your first vc ship, which makes me wonder what *were* your first vc ships? Were you ride and die for Armand/Lestat from the start or did that come later?

I accidentally wrote a dissertation (but it is the holidays and I have time to kill).

The Vampire Armand was the first VC book I remember reading. I may have picked up IWTV when I was 10 or so but I didn't make it very far, because I was 10 and not that precocious so I couldn't really follow along yet. But I just had turned 12 when I read TVA, and at the time I didn't make the connection to IWTV—did not realize there was an entire TVC until I had already gotten pretty deep into the story.

My first VC ships were Armand/Marius and Armand/Lestat. It took a few more years to be able to fully appreciate Devil's Minion and the absolute psychosexual hold it would have on me. I think I was about 16-17 when it... hit.

With Armand/Marius, the savior and student/teacher tropes really appealed to me as a kid who didn't actually comprehend much of those particular dynamics, and I was simply devastated by the way they were torn apart in Venice. As I got older and understood more, I did grow out of loving Marius and that ship altogether unless it's in fic, although I do think I'm able to empathize with him more and see him as a complete character now. I don't have to like someone in real life to feel empathy for them, and that translates over into fictional stuff for me personally. Everyone's different and honestly I don't overthink it lol.

Since I was introduced to Armand via his own book, I got to meet Lestat, Marius, and the rest of the cast through his eyes. I also have a rather peculiar habit (at least people tell me it's peculiar) of spoiling myself for everything I consume. I'll read the wiki pages of every movie and tv show before I watch them; I'll skip to the end of every book before I read the beginning so I'll know who's left standing. I don't like surprises! 

Technically, this is where I met Armand and Lestat:

It was Lestat, and he was tattered and dusty as he had been on the chapel floor. No thoughts emanated from his mind as far as I could figure, and his eyes looked vague and full of exhausting wonder. He stood before us, merely staring, and then as I rose to my feet, scrambled in fact, to embrace him; he came near to me, and whispered in my ear.

His voice was faltering and weak from lack of use, and he spoke very softly, his breath just touching my flesh.

"Sybelle," he said.

"Yes, Lestat, what is it, what about her, tell me," I said. I held his hands as firmly and lovingly as I could.

"Sybelle," he said again. "Do you think she would play the Sonata for me if you asked her? The Appassionato?"

I drew back and looked into his vague drifting blue eyes.

"Oh, yes," I said, near breathless with excitement, with overflowing feeling. "Lestat, I'm sure she would. Sybelle!"

Obviously, this Lestat guy is a big deal to Armand. Then when I went back and read the book properly (binged that baby in a day, took psychic damage that's still painfully evident today), I thought it was so interesting that Lestat really isn't featured in TVA that much and yet Armand doesn't talk about anyone the way he does Lestat. I was enchanted.

TVL was next on my list because I am a chaos gremlin with no respect for chronological order. Maybe this is why in my head I always think of TVL and TVA as companion novels? But I also see them as being the most similar in tone and style than any other two books in TVC. And once again, baby me was riveted by the L/A dynamic. 'Confusion and desire'! A 'monstrous intimacy'! The way Lestat describes Armand as one would a living angel, with all the horror, apprehension, allure, and worshipfulness that would entail.

Just as Armand doesn't speak on anyone the way he does Lestat, the same is true with Lestat when it comes to Armand. There's something so unique to their relationship and how they see each other that's not replicated with anyone else. I was hooked for life. 😔

And like I said, Devil's Minion came later to rearrange my brain chemistry one more time! I definitely go through phases with which ship I'm feeling the most but tbh I could talk about either of them all day long if given the opportunity (proof is in the archive, RIP). 🖤

But yes, I was an L/A girlie from day one, and I'm sure that's at least in part due to the way I started with TVA and TVL. I just love them so much, okay??? It's excellent writing and I think whether Anne meant to or not, she wrote them to complement each other perfectly and I'm gonna die emotional about it 🤧

[earlgreydream]

injured.

| stucky x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. After so many pleads for Y/N to stay home and be safe away from the mission; she still goes on that solo mission. However, when an injury occurs, she fears that Steve and Bucky will forbid/get mad at her for going. So she tries to hide it. However, when lust take over the same night she comes home; shower sex is in play between her lovers and her. And during all that, Steve and Bucky find the injury on her body and question it. Yet all Y/N wants to do is finish what they had started... yet to bad, having overprotective boyfriends are just what she has.

cw: mentions of violence, injury

“Shit,” you limped onto your jet, nearly collapsing to your knees on the floor.

The glass was cold and unforgiving, and you struggled to inhale, black bruises forming on your side. A sharp pain shot through your chest when you took a breath, and you wondered if your ribs were fractured, otherwise deeply bruised.

You hit the autopilot, sighing as the jet lifted and set for home. You laid back on the floor, unconsciousness clouding your mind. You fought it off, trying to keep your eyes open and focusing on breathing.

.

“Don’t go, Y/N. It’s a solo, Stark can send someone else,” Steve argued with you, knowing the dangers of sending you alone to Sokovian ruins to retrieve intel.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be perfectly fine. I go on team missions all the time, and this is just intel. You worry too much,” you’d shaken your head, giving him a kiss.

Bucky was unsettled, joining Steve in his attempts to convince you to stay behind. You had brushed them off, excited to finally be assigned a solo mission. You were a newer addition to the avengers team, and you hadn’t had a chance to take a solo mission. It didn’t help when you had not one, but two overly protective boyfriends. With Steve being responsible for most mission assignments, you had been placed in groups— usually with both Steve and Bucky. You were aptly trained, but they still feared for you.

.

You laid on the floor of the jet, thinking about your mission that had gone horribly wrong.

Panic seized you as you realized that Steve and Bucky were going to lose their shit. They’d told you to stay home and you’d ignored them, and ended up injured.

What was supposed to be a simple intel gain, had turned violent when someone realized you were undercover. You’d managed to escape the sleazy club with the help of a local, but only after you’d been brutally beaten.

You had barely made it back to the jet, and now pain was flooding through your body, leaving you exhausted, and struggling to take shallow breaths. You ached, but the fear of Steve and Bucky banning you from missions was worse.

Steve could be an extremist, overly anxious about your safety. Bucky was much more level-headed and rational, but you doubted that even he would remain calm when he saw your bruises.

No problem, you just had to figure out a way to cover it up. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and you didn’t intend to let them find out.

Your brain spun through how you were going to hide it, coming up short with ideas. You pushed yourself onto your knees and iced the bruises, taking some painkiller that Stark kept on the jet.

.

You managed to get yourself standing by the time you arrived back at the compound, though you still looked a mess.

Stark greeted you when the jet opened, and you hurried onto the tarmac. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you swore.

“That bad?”

“Yeah. You look like death. What the hell happened?” Stark demanded, following you inside.

Luckily, Steve and Bucky were caught up on a mission somewhere else, and you had a couple of hours before they returned.

“Morozova caught on. Gave me a beating, but I’m fine. And I managed to get the intel you asked for. But Tony, promise me you won’t tell the boys!” You begged, and the inventor looked hesitant.

“I’m fine, and you know they’ll overreact. I’ll be more careful next time, but don’t blow this for me, please!” You pleaded, walking with him to the lab.

“Fine. But only because I owe you. And if they find out, you deny that I knew. Come on, let’s get you some help.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Tony and letting him inspect your injuries. He concluded all your bones were intact, and you didn’t have internal bleeding. He cleaned your scrapes and cuts, and told you to watch the bruising. It was clear you’d had the shit kicked out of you, your ribs, stomach, hips, legs, and back evidence of the assault.

“This looks painful. You’ll need to be careful, and no physical training until you’re healed up. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, Stark.”

He hummed in his annoyed, impatient tone, and you watched him go. You gave yourself a moment before walking to your suite, changing into leggings and Bucky’s vintage “Stark Industries” hoodie, knowing it would hide all the bruising. You fell asleep waiting for them, exhaustion getting to you.

.

You slowly opened your eyes when lips pressed against your forehead. The touch was familiar, and you tilted your head back to meet Bucky’s mouth.

“Hi, doll,” he murmured, smiling against your lips.

You sat up, greeting the boys and kissing Steve.

“How was the mission?” Steve brushed hair from your face.

“I got all the intel for Stark,” you smiled, earning proud grins from the boys.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky kissed your cheek.

You were thankful you hadn’t been dragged into their arms, squeezed and smothered like they occasionally preferred. You concealed your pain, reduced to a dull ache from the Tylenol.

“Let’s shower, calm down a bit?” Bucky offered, kissing your neck, making your spine prickle with need.

“I’m good, go ahead. I’ve already showered.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, and Bucky drew away from kissing your neck.

He exchanged a look with Steve before turning back to you, steel and sky blue eyes narrowing at you.

“Y/N…” Steve began, but cut off, allowing you an opportunity to explain your lie.

“I mean, I just, don’t feel up to it…” you tried, shying away from Steve when he reached out to set his hand on your leg.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, worry flashing across his eyes.

“Nothing, honey. I’m fine,” you promised, touching his scruffy face and giving him a kiss.

“Then let’s have some shower sex,” Steve met your gaze.

You nodded, going in the bathroom first. You got in the shower, and they followed, seeing your body covered in bruises and scrapes.

“Y/N!” Bucky cried, lifting your arm and inspecting your injuries.

“It’s fine, really. No broken bones or internal bleeding.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you tell us?!” Steve raised his voice, making you sink back against the cold tile.

“Because I didn’t want you to get angry and forbid me from going on missions!” You defended yourself.

Both men tried to contain their agitation, not wanting you to feel like they were angry. Their fears became tangible, seeing you wounded.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been injured, we’re just worried. You need to tell us when you’re hurt,” Steve’s tone softened.

“I’m sorry,” you finally conceded.

“Don’t be. First of all, are you okay?” Bucky asked, tilting your face up.

“It hurts,” you admitted.

Bucky winced at your tone, understanding how much pain you were in. You abandoned your attempts to conceal it, and he could hear the agony in your voice.

“I’m so sorry,” he leaned down and gently kissed your bruises. Steve joined, and suddenly they were kissing all over your body.

Your hands went to Bucky’s hair as he kissed your hip, and sparkling grey eyes gazed up at you. Steve kissed your inner thigh, and you bit your lip, need pooling between your legs. Tingling started to spread through your body, and you were seconds away from begging your boyfriends to touch you.

Steve stood, towering over you from behind. Strong arms gently snaked around you, supporting your weight without putting pressure on the bruises.

“Steve-?” You looked up at him, but you tightened your grip on Bucky’s hair as his mouth went where you desired.

“Oh,” you breathed as Bucky’s tongue gently lapped through your folds, brushing over your clit.

“We’re going to be gentle, doll,” Steve promised, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“Going to make some of that ache go away,” Bucky mumbled against your heat, his speech sending echoed vibrations through your sex.

You gripped Steve’s arm, thankful he was holding you up, or else your knees would’ve buckled, weak from Bucky eating you out.

He reached up, gently brushing his fingertips over your entrance, gauging your reaction. Your muscles fluttered at the touch, trying to pull him in. He smirked against you, sucking on your clit and using his tongue to tease you. You fisted his dark hair, slipping between your fingers from being soaked by the shower, and you struggled to find solidity.

“James!” You cried, throwing your head back on Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, stroking your velvety walls.

Steve gently groped your chest, teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers. The boys knew how to get you off— and knew how to do it gently. You’d never been more thankful for them as you were in this moment, soft heat wrapping around your body, mixing with the steam of the warm shower.

Your eyes fell closed and you arched your sore back off of Steve, grinding against Bucky’s face before he coaxed an orgasm from you.

“That’s it, pretty girl, come all over Buck’s face,” Steve smirked into your neck. 

You cried out, yanking on Bucky’s hair and collapsing against Steve. You winced as he bumped your bruises, trying to catch you. He murmured out an apology, and Bucky leaned back under the water, grinning up at you. 

“Let’s get you clean, then you can rest, doll.”

You were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open as they helped you wash up, sending you to dry off so they could take care of one another. You offered to jerk them off, returning the favor, but Steve just laughed and kissed you.

“Go get in bed. We’ll join you in a bit.”

You didn’t argue, sliding into bed in fresh pajamas, printed with Steve’s shields. He’d gotten them for you as a bit of a joke, but you’d loved them, wearing them all the time. The boys’ dog tags rested under the button-down top, cold against your warm skin. You were nearly lulled to sleep by the hum of the shower, struggling to stay awake as the two boys returned to your bedroom, going to either side. 

“What happened on the mission, love?” Steve asked quietly, lying down with his face inches from yours. 

“I was in a meeting, getting the information that Stark wanted on the Hydra transfers. I’m not sure what gave it away, but General Morozova found out that I was under cover. He beat me, but a Sokovian helped me escape,” you explained wearily, sighing as Bucky’s arm went around you protectively.

“You’re safe now. Once you’re recovered, we’ll talk about future missions.”

“So you’re not banning me?” you asked hopefully, looking up at Steve.

“You’re too valuable, but you’re not going on missions without Bucky and I for a while,” Steve conceded, kissing your nose.

“I could be okay with that,” you squeezed them in a hug, ignoring the pain that shot through you. 

You giggled as kisses were littered all over your face, the three of you talking until you fell asleep.