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yanderedrabbles · 7 hours ago

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Yandere Serial Killer(s)

Your mother always warned you to never give rides to strangers, but the hitchhiker you run into seems harmless. What's the worst that can happen?

Things originally start well. You and your buddies piled into your roommate's Jeep, roof down, pop music blasting. You're the driver - always the responsible one - hair tied back and sunglasses on the edge of your nose. You're all dressed for summer. Bikini tops and board shorts, smeared with sunscreen - the picture of college fun.

It starts well and keeps going even better. You're all in high spirits. Flushed and happy and young. Picking up the hitchhiker seems like a good idea. You see that he's handsome and around your age, that he's got an easy smile and a guitar on his back. You see that and nothing else. Not the too quick eyes, not the surprisingly light backback. Nothing.

He ends up riding shotgun, talking to you about classes and shitty professors. Smiling just a little every time you shift gears and your hand brushes his thigh.

You like him. You're the only single in the car so it's natural that he spends the most time talking to you. Lord knows it's hard to keep a conversation going with a couple when they look like they'd rather be tonsil deep in each other's throats.

You like him and you get the feeling he likes you too. When you stop at a sleazy motel for the night, he invites you to eat dinner with him outside his room. All your friends are off doing what couples do best - getting cosy in the hot tub, testing the speeds on the vibrating bed, finding new and interesting ways to use the ice machine. So you're glad for the company.

Mostly.

You're almost done eating when he pops the question.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

You look away from him. Take in the greasy boxes of takeout on the concrete, the neon red wash of the vacancy sign spelling across the parking lot. It's not an easy question. It brings up ugly memories.

"I used to have one. Things ended...badly. He's in Cook County Corrections now. Serving fifty to life."

He gives a low whistle.

"That bad huh? You ever go to see him?"

"No. Never."

He stretches out, folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the dull scattering of stars.

"You should. It gets lonely in there. A guy could use the pick me up, especially if the visitor is a pretty thing like you."

You shiver despite the balmy summer air.

"I'd rather not. I'll be happy to never see his face again."

Thankfully, he drops the subject. You go back to talking about awful first dates and the best dishes to order at a Chinese restaurant. He's a complete gentleman but you can't help the slight relief you feel when he stands to leave.

" 'Night gorgeous."

"Good night, stranger."

In the morning you walk out to see him reading the early paper. He crumples and tosses it before you can catch the headline.

" 'Morning. How did you sleep?"

You shrug. "Not the best. I swear these kinds of places all get their beds from the same supplier. Lumpy Mattresses Inc."

He grins. "Don't forget their trusty partner Damp and Musty Carpets LTD."

Your friends are slow to wake up and groggy when they do. Most of them nursing nasty hangovers. You and the hitchhiker have most of the morning to eat breakfast and shoot the breeze together. When it's time to leave, he takes his place in the passenger seat like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I couldn't find any newspapers," one of your friends complains when you're back on the road.

"I wanted to see the football results."

"Eagles beats the Rams in the final playoff," the hitchhiker says.

"Aww man. Where'd you get a paper from?"

"I must have gotten lucky. Staff is 'sposed to leave the local paper at reception. Guess they must not have the budget anymore."

You stay quiet but something doesn't feel quite right about that statement.

The day passes fast. Your playlist is a lot more mellow, on account of the many lingering headaches. Still, you think there's nothing quite as fine as the open road. It's only near evening when the trouble starts.

"Shit. I can't find our reservations."

You look at your friends in the rear view mirror. They've already pulled apart two backpacks trying to find the papers. You can't help feeling irritated. The one thing you asked them to take care of...

You pull over and search the Jeep from top to bottom. Unpack almost everything. Check and then recheck your pockets. Nothing.

"I'm really sorry y/n. On the phone they said we needed the copies to check in. Maybe we can still stop by and get it sorted with the front desk but..."

You can here the unspoken thought in their words. You're all thinking the same thing - that hotels can get so uptight when their potential guests are rowdy students with still bloodshot eyes. You worry at your nail, thinking. You paid the fees in advance so maybe if you showed them your credit card...

"My friend has a cabin not far from here," the hitchhiker says. "Pretty big place. He'd be happy to let us crash there for the night."

You bite your lip. It's a two hour drive to the hotel. And if they turn you away you'll be off the beaten path with almost no cash, on a near empty petrol tank.

"You think he'd mind letting us sleep on his couch?" you ask. "We'll be well-behaved and I can pay."

He smiles at you, totally easy going about the whole thing.

"Sure we'll just have to call ahead."

You manage to track down a payphone and you wait with the rest of your crew while he calls. You can't make out what he's saying but every once in a while his eyes drift to you. No one else. Just you.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was talking about you.

When he puts the receiver down, he's all smiles.

"Got it all sorted. It's out of the way though, so I reckon we grab some chow first."

Your friends are quick to agree. What self respecting kid on spring break is going to say no to fast food and cold beer? It's only you that lingers, brow furrowed. It all feels too convenient. Your reservations go missing and the stranger you picked up just happens to have a place nearby? No way. The more you think about, it the stranger it seems.

You're still lost in thought when the hitchhiker swings an arm around your shoulders and half drags you along behind your friends.

"What's you got you so worried gorgeous?"

It's hard to be suspicious of him when he smile so easy, his shaggy brown hair dancing across his forehead.

"Nothing. I just hate to intrude on your friend."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go.

"Trust me he'll be very glad for the company. He doesn't get out much."

He pulls the diner door open for you. Your friends have already claimed a booth and a single harried waitress is struggling to jot down their long list of requests. The hitchhiker grabs your hand before you can join them.

"My friend is a great guy. I think you'll like him."

He smiles, crooked and amused, like he's laughing at a joke only he understands.

"Hell, I know for a fact that he'll like you. You're just his type."

Your smile is tight. The last guy who said you were just his type... well, you and the district attorney both know how that ended.

You take a seat and smile at the waitress. She looks beyond overwhelmed and you silently promise to tip her as well as your half drained credit card can manage.

"I'll take a steak. Rare. Bloody as you can make it," the hitchhiker says.

You raise your brows. Not exactly the typical order for an out of the way little diner. He sees your look and grins.

"Been a while without good meat. You have no idea the craving I've had this past few days."

The booth is packed tight and his thigh is flush against yours. Warm, even though his jeans.

"We all get cravings now and again. I get it."

He tilts his head at you and it must be a trick of the light, because his pupils are blown out wide. It looks like you're staring into oil. Just... emptier somehow. You wouldn't go so far as to say he feels soulless, but if it's not in the same street it sure as hell is in the same neighbourhood. Like oil, it leaves you feeling dirty in a way that doesn't easily scrub off.

"Do you?" he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to say something along the lines of I'm only human and of course I do but his eyes stop you. He isn't talking about food or meat. No. It feels like he's asking about flesh.

One of your friends cracks a joke and you turn away from him in a hurry, pretending to laugh at something you only half heard. You don't talk to him for the rest of the meal. Try to avoid looking him even. But you can't avoid the feel of his leg against yours. Warm and solid. Can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he reaches for his wallet and his fingers accidentally scrape you inner thigh.

You're the last one out of the diner. You throw away the dirty napkins and, true to your word, tip the waitress as well as you can manage. You're half afraid that he might wait for you, but when the door clicks shut behind you, you see him with the rest of your friends. Joking around with some of the boys.

The second you start towards them, his eyes fix on yours. You aren't sure how he does it - always narrowing in on you like you have your own gravitational pull. Like he's aware of your every move.

"Ready to go?"

Are you? You aren't sure. Some dull instinct is making you want to turn tail and run. You try and talk yourself out of it. What concrete evidence do you have? What has he done wrong, besides be a little intense? Folk do that all the time and it doesn't bother you. And it's not like you'll be alone. Your whole pack of friends will be right next to you.

"Yeah, let's go. Time doesn't wait for anyone."

It's a long drive. The highway splitting off into a main road and then splintering into a half-dozen country tracks. By the time you arrive, you're beyond grateful for choosing the Jeep. Heaven alone knows how much more jostling and bouncing your teeth could take.

It's a nice place. A big cabin out in a clearing, the trees thick for miles around. Much nicer than the crummy hotel you'd otherwise have to settle for. You can't even hear the traffic.

Your friends grab their bags and the hitchhiker holds the front door open as you all file in. The entryway is clean and bright, and besides the lingering tang of bleach, there's nothing to set your suspicions racing. Honestly, you feel a little silly for being so paranoid. Must be the bad memories. They make you jumpy regardless of actual circumstances.

"Where's your friend?"

You turn just in time to see the hitchhiker slipping something small and metallic into his pocket.

"Is that the key for the -"

"My friend will be here soon," he talks over you, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I'll show you guys your rooms and once you get settled, we can grab some beers and hit the hot tub."

He brushes past you and ignores your half-hearted grab for his arm. Your friends are already pounding up the stairs, too hyped to notice your expression. He pauses on the landing and looks back at you - the only one still standing by the door. His eyes are bright and almost hard.

"You coming?"

Nothing to be scared of, right? It's a common habit to lock the front door, especially out in the woods.

"Yep. Right behind you."

But no matter what you tell yourself, your feet still drag along when you follow him deeper into the cabin. Further and further from escape.

You're the only one who gets a room of their own. Everyone else is piled two and three deep in the guest rooms, half your buddies on couches more than beds.

You're also the last to get a room, so by the time he shows you your bed, it's only you and him. You wonder if he planned it on purpose.

"Quiet out here."

He hums in agreement, standing at your window and watching the woods. He stays silent while you unpack. Whatever he's watching for takes all his attention.

It's only when you hear your friends start splashing around in the hot tub that he speaks.

"You should probably take a shower before anyone else. The water is unreliable out here."

You silently agree. It's s been a long day, and while a quick dip in the jacuzzi sounds good, a hot shower and a cool bed sound even better. He pauses at your bedroom door to say good night. You're already heading to the bathroom and you only half hear the rest of his sentence.

"Sleep tight. And don't worry too much about any noises you hear. There's mountain lions around and the sound carries funny sometimes."

He closes your door softly behind him. Your en-suite is echoey, and when you turn on the water, you don't hear the quiet click of him locking you in.

After your shower, you're totally exhausted. You don't even bother leaving your room to check on your friends. You just curl up under your borrowed duvet and drift off. When you half wake at three in the morning to the dying echo of a scream, you mutter something about mountain lions and fall right back to sleep.

You don't see it but the figure in the corner of your room smiles. Moonlight catching for a split second on the butcher's knife in his hand.

"You always were a deep sleeper, baby. Can never remember your dreams."

Morning comes fast after that. When you wake, the only evidence of your midnight visitor is a slightly misplaced pair of sneakers that you're too drowsy to notice.

Your room door opens easily and you're half way down the stairs before you even start to wonder where your friends are.

Still sleeping probably. Had a late night.

The only sign that someone else is awake is a half empty pot of coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. You don't really feel comfortable rooting around in someone else's kitchen, but the hitchhiker did say to help yourself... You end up snatching a small Greek yogurt from the fridge and taking it out to the porch.

The forest is alive with bird song, dew still melting in the grass. It's peaceful. Tranquil. For the first time, you're entirely happy that you accepted the hitchhiker's offer.

The only thing that disrupts the picture perfect scene is a single discarded sneaker, thick with mud and left right in the middle of the yard.

You sigh. Did one of your friends really lose a whole shoe and not notice? You pick it up and knock the worst of the mud off.

So much for being well-behaved. You'll have to check over the whole place before you leave, make sure they haven't somehow tanked to the property value. The edges of the laces are stained a rusty red but you chalk it up to spilled wine or something.

You drop the shoe at the door and make your way back into the kitchen. It takes some searching but you finally find the dustbin, half hidden in a cupboard. Ugh, why do rich people always have to hide the trash away in the most obscure places?

Yesterday's paper is shoved under some tea bags, the edges of the front page barely visible.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY

You frown, you gut suddenly nauseous and rolling. You dig the newspaper out of the trash. Slowly. Hesitantly. Amost afraid that the reality will be twice as bad as your suspicions. There's a massive stain on the front but you can still read the print clearly.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY CORRECTIONS. MANHUNT UNDERWAY.

You don't bother to read the article. The pictures alone tell you everything. You feel sick enough to faint.

You didn't think you'd ever see his face again, but here it is. Mugshot slightly blurry and the ink starting to run. Scowling at the camera like he's more pissed at being caught than anything else.

Your ex boyfriend.

You might have been fine if it was just him. Might have called the DA and the lead homicide detective, begged for witness protection. But trouble never visits without company. There's another mugshot under his, this one captioned Serial Arsonist & Convicted Killer.

The hitchhiker wasn't smiling when the cops lined him up for his red carpet shoot. His eyes are as black and empty in his mugshot as they were last night. When he looked at you and said he was craving meat. Meat.

You might have laughed if you didn't think you were about to vomit. Yeah, he was probably craving meat alright. The roasted and still screaming kind.

You drop the newspaper, hands shaking so bad you can't hold onto it even if you wanted to.

"I told him to take out the trash. But does he listen?"

You whirl around. The hitchhiker is blocking the back door and holding your friend's lost sneaker, rolling the stained laces between his fingers.

"Thanks for grabbing this, gorgeous. If we missed it, the pigs would be back on our asses in no time."

You run.

You don't bother hearing him out or rationalising. You turn away from him and bolt straight for the front door.

You almost make it.

Your fingers just brush the metal of the doorknob before someone grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you towards them, hard enough that you end up on your back. Winded. Your scalp burning.

"Gonna leave without even saying hello? C'mon baby, is that how you greet your man?"

Your boyfriend is standing above you, smirking like this is all a game. He's still in his prison jumpsuit, the sleeves knotted around his waist. He's wearing a white tank and one glance is enough to tell you that prison has been great for his gym journey. His muscles - always toned to begin with - are positively huge.

He's always been strong, but the sight of him like this has your heart racing. How much harder can he hit, with all that extra bulk to back him up?

He slams you back onto the floor when you move to get up, his boot pressing into your sternum so hard you can almost hear your bones creaking.

"Aww, don't get up baby. Let's just talk. We've got so much to catch up on."

He presses his heel into you. Hard enough that you can't breathe out it hurting.

"Where to start... Oh, I know! Have you fucked anyone else while I've been gone? Gotten yourself a new man? Who's been between your legs while I've. Been. Rotting. Away?"

He punctuates his sentence with sharp jabs of his boot.

"No one," you managed to choke out. "Didn't have anybody."

He takes his boot off your chest and you suck in a painful breath, your lungs and ribs on fire. You roll onto you hands and knees, coughing.

Shit. Fuck.

He squats down so he's level with you, voice a sickly sweet drawl.

"You promise?"

"I-" Another painful coughing fit. "I swear. No one else."

"I don't know if I can believe you, baby. You said you loved me, and then you ratted on me to the cops. Not the best record."

He grabs your hair and hauls you to your feet, totally unbothered that you still can't breathe right.

You shriek and try to pull away, only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and pin you against his chest.

He squeezes hard enough that your larynx feels like it's going to collapse.

"What do you think I should do?"

You think he's asking you, but it's the hitchhiker that answers. He's leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed like he's watching two kittens at play rather than seeing your boyfriend almost choke the life out of you.

"I reckon we should check. Her cunt should be all tight and wet after months without cock. And if it isn't...well, there's your answer."

"You hear that baby? We're gonna make sure you've been well behaved."

We?

You start fighting all the harder. One murderer is enough. You don't want both their hands on you. You'll never be able to scrub yourself clean again.

The hitchhiker smirks and pushes himself away from the wall. His pupils are all wide again, twin blackholes hungry enough to swallow you, your friends, the whole damn world.

Adrenaline is a hell of a thing but you're up against two convicted killers who've had nothing but time to get stronger. Who've had the world's hardest lessons in cruelty.

Your boyfriend lets go of your hair and grabs one flailing wrist. He bends your arm up your back until you heads tucked under his chin and you're standing on your tiptoes to alleviate the pressure.

The hitchhiker twists one ankle behind yours so you can't kick out of him. It feels like a move cops and wardens might use. He must have had it done to him plenty, if he can so easily put you in the same position.

"I'll scream."

That makes them laugh.

"Go on then gorgeous. Scream. No one heard your friends last night. What makes you think they'll hear you?"

Your friends... You were panicking so bad you hadn't even considered them. The hitchhiker sees your eyes go wide and grins that easy, friendly grin of his. The one that made you trust him enough to give him a ride.

"Oh, we took good care of them. I'll spare you the grisly details but there's no one left out here but us."

It's too awful to consider. Too visceral. Too unreal. Your mind blocks it out and changes your whole train of thought to focus on escaping.

You focus on your boyfriend. He isn't acting like himself. The same man who put his hand on the bible and swore before the court that he killed all those people because of you - that man - was suddenly willing to share? Was inviting someone else to enjoy your body?

"You're going to let him touch me? You killed my lab partner because you said he would jerk off to pictures of me. What the hell changed?"

Your boyfriend hums.

"A whole lot. He's my cellmate."

Like that explains anything!

The hitchhiker slips his fingers under the hem of your top, nails running along your waistband.

"He wouldn't shut up about you. Had your pictures pinned up above his bed and everything. It was so fucking annoying at first. My girl this, my baby that. But after a few months..."

He pops open the button of your jeans with a flick of his thumb. You jerk away but your boyfriend twists your arm even harder and you're forced to hold still.

"After a few months, I started to understand the appeal. Could see why he was so into you. And hell, I wanted a taste myself. Wanted to see if you lived up to the hype."

Your boyfriend is smiling. You can tell from his voice.

"And is she worth all the hard work we put in?"

The hitchhiker's hands are cold. You flinch when he slips his fingers past your panties. He rubs his thumb against your slit, savouring every inch.

"For her? I'd kill twice as many as we did last night."

He sighs as he feels your slick starting to collect around his knuckles. Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you. Cold, uncomfortably cold.

He has a guitarist's hands and you can feel the callouses on his fingertips scraping against your walls. Too rough. Too much.

"Just like I thought. Tight and wet. Your girls loyal to a fault."

Your boyfriend practically purrs.

"Been so good while I was gone, baby. You deserve a reward, dontcha?"

He leans down and nips your cheek. You feel sick. His teeth so close...

"Don't worry. We'll fill you up so good that you'll never try running again."

Your spring break road trip starts well and gets better. But the end? Well, it ends with a cock down your throat in and another in your cunt. It ends with a hand around your neck and teeth marks on your thighs. It ends with a reminder to always trust your instincts and to never, ever give rides to strangers.

#yandere #yandere imagines #Yandere serial killer #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere x darling #4k words

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natsredbra · 2 days ago

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mom lottie and reader thoughts? Perhaps? Maybe mixed with domestic lottie?

(yes i had to add all these photos) (also i absentmindedly made it fem!r)

lottie is the softest and most caring person ever, with you and your daughter (i may not be 100% sure about nat but with lottie, she’s a girl mom.) she’s so full of love and it warms your heart to see them together, especially cause she’s spoiling the shit out of her (she’s not a brat though, lottie would never have it) she just wants to give her kid all the love support and warmth she never had

“Babygirl! I got you a new Barbie!” Lottie says, entering the house after work

“Lot she already has 23!”

“But this one came with a puppy whose poop you can clean!”

your daughter’s name would be something ethereal and really meaningful seeing how spiritual lottie is she also gets up early on a sunday and makes you breakfast in bed with your toddler <33 (because she’s a business woman & works all week and all that) she totally lets you know that she can take care of you (finantially) but if you wanted to have any kind of job, understandibly to keep you occupied she’s more then supportive has no problem paying for a nanny if it has a positive toll on your mental health and whatnot

she’s mommy and you’re mama

lottie who as NO issue showing you affection in front of your kid - not obnoxious pda but a caress and kiss here and there

“Ohh honey look at how pretty your mama is!” Lottie called out to your daughter who sat in her lap as they watched Toy Story. You were in the kitchen making dinner

You turned around, a big smile on your face as your kid chanted something along the lines of “Prettyyyy mama!”

It was cheesy as hell, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, especially seeing Lottie marvel in your redamancy

lottie is a serious girl. she puts your kid into fashion immediately. okay that sounded a little scary but what i meant is she’s teaching her all of it as soon as she can speak still, obviously dresses her daughter into child - appropriate clothes, but definitely gets those toddler heels for her

she’s usually busy, but loves days when the three of you don’t have anything but pizza movies and pajamas on your agenda, she wouldn’t relax any other way

is the absolute sweetest if the little one gets a nightmare and comes to your bed. she doesn’t even think twice about letting her in and neither do you in the morning you wake up to their hushed whispers, and they playfully make fun of you about not wanting to get up yet

still, obviously you guys need a break sometimes, and send the kid to her grandparents to get some alone time some of the days you don’t even have sex, just relish in each other not that your child is a burden god forbid, she can simply sometimes be a small distraction between the two of you and to lottie, communication and building a healthy relationship is everything

“I’m so glad we get to do this. And that I get to be here with you.” Lottie mumbled against your chest as your fingers raked through her hair

“Me too Lot. You’re an amazing wife. And mom too.” Maybe she didn’t say so, but she loved hearing it.

Her loved one’s validation and reciprocation is very much important to her.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets thoughts 💭#yj season 3 #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews headcanons #lottie matthews #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews thoughts 💭

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paper-starz · 2 days ago

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Yarnaby and the yittens!!!

OHHHHH THESE GUYS WERE SO FUN TO MAKE!!!

Also meet the yittens, they kinda replace the nightmare critters?? Kinda?? Theyre lil ankle biters <3,,,,

Also, turning this redesign thingy into an AU! its called Playtime Park now hehehe

Anyways rewritten lore below!

Yarnaby was originally released as part of a wildlife conservation campaign in the 1970s, but due to his sheer popularity (especially with the kiddos), Playtime Co. decided to release an entirely new toy brand called the "Yarnimals", where profits made from this toy line would be donated to wildlife conservations.

Yarnaby was then added to the "Playtime Park" mascot roster soon after, where he would reside in "Yarnaby's Knitting Club" station. There, he and his handler would teach kids how to knit teeny tiny versions of him, often called a "yitten".

Unfortunatly, yittens were often forgotten, discarded, or even thrown away by their owners, but don't worry! Most of the yittens were taken in by Yarnaby, forming his own lil pride. (Perhaps the yittens being an extra $20 dollars has something to do with it...)

But despite the Yittens being an extra $20, Yarnaby's station was pretty popular with the kids and adults alike, with the kids happily exclaiming that they were so glad that "yarnaby was super duper soft!" Yarnaby is also trained not to say a word while he's playing with the littler guests, so parents don't have to worry about Yarnaby roaring and scaring them! (He couldn't roar even if he wanted too... Poor fella was never given a voicebox when he was created...)

So please, if you're able, head on down to Playtime Park to meet your favorite toys from Playtime Co.!

Huggy, Kissy, and Doey redesigns More Doey redesigns

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime redesign #poppy playtime yarnaby #yarnaby #yittens #poppy playtime au #Playtime Park #starz art #yeah #Yarnaby has a whole “I have no mouth and I must scream” situation #poor guy #hes fine tho dw #at least he has the yittens!

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flowery-mess · 3 days ago

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lost in touch

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+! MDNI / sexual content - oral, fingering, protected sex, nipple play, dry humping / use of a blindfold / mentions of tied hands / dirty talk (I tried lol) / inexperienced reader / I think that's it, let me know if you find anything else

Words: 6k

Author's note: can't believe my longest frat Noah fic is a smut😭 I project lot of myself into Ella and this one shot is proof of that lol

frat boy Noah masterlist

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

✨This one is happening in the beginning of their story, let’s say like the third/fourth time they spend the night together…✨

“What’s up with you Noah? You haven’t said a single word yet.” Nick elbowed Noah in his side, pulling him out of the trance he was in.

“Not in the mood.” he replied grumpily.

Noah was actually looking forward to leaving, with or without you, tonight was just one of those days. He arrived an hour ago and was ready to leave immediately. He wanted to know if you’re going to show up, probably yes, so he opted for staying until you do.

When you did show up, he almost felt bad for wanting to leave immediately. You were looking particularly good, black dress with white pattern with long sleeves, a leather jacket over your shoulders, black tights and boots. Your hair and makeup was nicely done and you looked like you were ready to have fun.

You didn’t look out for him, why would you when you usually leave at 1AM, not 9PM.

“So, what are we drinking tonight?” Clara asked you and Molly when you stood in front of the “bar”.

“How about vodka soda for starters?” Molly suggested and you all agreed.

Noah watched you and your friends from his spot on the couch thinking about his options. One, he leaves without talking to you, two, he asks if you want to leave right now and you turn him down, three, he asks if you want to leave right now and you agree.

When Jolly threw popcorn at him and had another annoying comment about why he hasn’t spoken a word, Noah just took out his phone and texted you “meet me in the backyard in a minute?” and flipped his friends off.

He was already waiting for you when you opened the back door that led you to the garden. Frown on his face which didn’t go away even when you said “Hi.” and gave him one of your smiles.

“Hi. I, uh, I’m not really in the mood for a party tonight so I wanted to ask if you’d like to leave, like right now?” when he saw your confused face he continued, “You don’t have to, you can stay of course. I was just thinking about getting some take out and then going home. And I wanted to tell you, because I don’t really know how this thing works.”

He was cute, rumbling and talking too much.

“Well my friends won’t be happy I’m leaving this soon, but I’m actually kinda hungry.”

“Okay, cool.” he didn’t think you’d actually agree, so he didn’t know what was the next plan, because he didn’t have any.

“Okay. I’m gonna tell them and meet you?”

“Sure, I’ll be in the parking lot.”

—

“So, what’s got you in this grumpy mood?” you asked Noah when you left the drive through, enough food for a family of four in your lap.

“I’m not grumpy.” he groaned.

“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine either.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s just you could have just told me you want to be alone tonight. We don’t have to do this every single week.” lie, you wanted to do this exactly every single week. Noah wasn’t in his usual mood tonight, but he wasn’t rude to you, you just didn’t know how to act around him. You didn’t want him to feel like he had to spend the night with you, if he’d prefer being alone tonight.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight, I’m glad you left with me. One hamburger and I’ll be in a much better mood, trust me.” you laughed at his answer, but hoped it was the truth. You liked spending time with him, he was funny and it seemed like he was more himself when it was just the two of you.

Your eyes watched the streets passing by as Noah drove you somewhere.

“Where are we going? Isn’t your place in the opposite direction?”

“It is, just wait and you'll see.”

“There it is.” you pointed at his face and got him all confused about what you’re talking about.

“What?”

“The smile, you’re smiling.”

“So?”

“So? You’ve been frowning the whole night.”

“I haven’t!” he argued back, but couldn’t help the growing smile on his face.

“Liar.” you threw french fry at him, one that you secretly stole from the take away bag in your lap.

The rest of the ride was silent, you could only hear noises from outside or the radio at low volume. Noah finally stopped the car and your mouth was left hanging open.

The full city view was in front of you, you could see all of the lights under the dark sky.

“That is beautiful.” you stated.

“I know.” you saw his cocky smile.

“Is this where you take all of your girls?” you teased.

“All of my girls?” he was genuinely confused, you were the only one he was “seeing” at the moment.

“I mean when you take girls out on a date, is this where you take them? The view, good food, music. I bet that’s the move for them to fall in love with you.”

“I don’t date.” he shrugged his shoulders and dug into the bag full of food.

“Like never?” you continued eating your fries.

“Never.”

“So you never had a girlfriend?”

“When I was like sixteen? I don’t remember.” you were surprised. He is attractive, smart, has his own place and car, he’s funny and easy to be around.

“Oh, okay.” he just chuckled at your reaction.

“And you?”

“One boyfriend for 5 years.” you told him the truth. Your romantic life was never really interesting. You started dating your now ex boyfriend when you were both 18, broke up at 23 and that was it.

“That sounds serious, why did you break up?” Noah asked.

“Nothing interesting. We just wanted different things, and had different plans for the future. It was more of a friendship than a relationship in the last few months.”

“Still friends?”

“Not really, but we ended things on good terms.”

You finished your food and talked more about random things. Noah was right, after he finished his food he was in a much better mood.

You talked about everything and nothing, but you didn’t know that Noah had one question in his mind since you shared with him that you only had one boyfriend. He was building up the courage to ask, not sure how you’re going to react.

“Can I ask you something personal? You don’t have to answer.” Noah started.

You both made yourselves comfortable, pushed your seats back, folded legs under yourselves and were facing each other.

“Go ahead.” you were scared of what's going to come out of his mouth, in your sober state you didn’t like personal questions, but he wouldn’t ask anything too personal, right?

“You said you had only one boyfriend,” he shifted in his seat and you nodded at him, “does that mean that beside me he’s the only person you had sex with?”

You almost choked on your sprite after he said it out loud. It wasn’t a bad question, you just had a hard time talking about your sex life. Heat got in your face, cheeks turned 5 shades of red and you avoided eye contact.

“You don’t have to answer Ella.”

“Yes.” you answered truthfully, but still continued looking out of the window.

“Look at me.” he said, but you didn’t. “Hey, look at me.”

Noah gently took your chin in his hand and made you face him, he saw the look on your face and immediately felt bad for asking that question.

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he said.

“It’s okay, it’s just not easy for me to talk about those things. I mean, I don’t mind the subject, but I always get like this.” you pointed to your face and finally broke a smile. Noah smiled too, relieved he didn’t make you feel bad or something.

He kept his hand on your chin and looked at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he didn’t find any, he leaned to kiss you. The kiss was slow, gentle, as if he was saying “You don’t have to feel ashamed around me.”

You kissed him back and enjoyed this slow passionate moment. After a few more kisses Noah sat back in his seat, tugging at your hand as a hint for you to crawl over the center console in his lap.

You felt the adrenaline in your body after you found a comfortable position straddling Noah’s lap. This was new for you, all of this. You and your boyfriend never did anything like this.

Noah’s hands were all over your body the second you stopped moving around, one of them grabbing you by your neck and leaning you down to meet him halfway in another kiss. This time more passionate and needy. When you pulled away to take a breath and get rid of your leather jacket, Noah looked at you and said “It’s actually kinda hot, knowing I’m the second guy you let this close to you.”

Because he suddenly felt more confident in this whole thing, he enjoyed being the one that has more experience and can show you how sex should feel.

His big hands gripped the soft skin of your ass and you let out a small moan right into the kiss. You didn’t know what’s gotten into you, but you rolled your hips against Noah’s and felt a new kind of exićitement run through your body. After you realized what you’ve done you stopped, not knowing if it was too much or not. There were layers between you two, but you felt Noah’s dick growing hard seconds after.

“Do it again.” he whispered against the skin on your neck, feeling just the same amount of pleasure from your actions as you did.

So you started moving in his lap again, feeling kinda pathetic about how good it felt. Noah pulled you in another kiss and his grip on your ass tightened. He rolled your dress up to your waist and occasionally lifted his hips from his seat to rub against you.

“Does it feel good?” he used the moment you pulled away to get some air and whispered in your ear before kissing you just under there.

“Mhm.” you just hummed instead of words, your head falling back from the ecstasy you felt was coming closer and closer.

Noah knew you were close by the way you lost control of your hands. You didn’t know where to put them, first one of them was gripping the head rest behind Noah’s head, then it slipped in his hair, then your other hand slid down on his chest because you couldn’t keep it still.

“That’s it, keep going.” he encouraged you with whispered words in your ear and couldn’t stop looking at your face. Your eyes closed, mouth open and head falling backwards every time he moved his hips too. Your movements became messy so his grip on your hips tightened to keep you going until you took a sharp breath in and squeezed Noah with your legs.

You rolled your hips against his few more times to get through the afterwave of your orgasm and then fell on his chest.

That bastard was just smiling, happy from what he just witnessed.

You snuggled into the soft skin of his neck, wanting to stay there forever due to feeling like a horny teenager that just dry humped a guy's bulge.

“That was fucking sexy.” instead of making fun of you as you expected, he growled a whisper into your ear.

That gave you enough confidence to look up at him and give him one of your shy smiles. His fingers grazed the skin of your face before he pulled you into a soft kiss.

“Let’s go to mine, huh?” he rubbed his nose along your jaw, waiting for your answer even though he knew it would be yes by the way your lips turned into an excited smile.

—

At his place, Noah didn’t waste any time and took you straight to his bedroom. He was still thrilling from the new information that he got tonight and wanted to show you just how good can sex be.

He laid you down on his bed and noticed your pink cheeks and shy smile. Cute, he thought. He knows he’s attractive, but he also usually sleeps with girls that are not new to the sex life, so they don’t react to the smallest things like you do.

He put his weight on his elbows and went for a kiss. It was slow and gentle as a signal to give you enough confidence to take the kiss in the direction you wanted it to go.

He felt your fingers graze his neck and then slowly move to his hair. He noticed you liked playing with his hair and he loved it. The different tugs and scratches you did showed him what you like without you having to say it out loud.

When he kissed you on your jaw and used his teeth a little, you always stopped moving your fingers in his hair and tugged on it. That’s how he learned lots of small things you like.

He continued kissing and teasing you, wanting to know how long it would take until you made a move.

Maybe it was Noah’s touch or his lips on your sensitive skin that made you roll your bodies over so you were straddling his lap. You saw his smirk which made you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hey, look at me.” he took your chin in his long tattooed fingers and lifted your head enough to see your eyes. “Don’t be shy around me, I like to see you get more confident. Don’t hide yourself from me, okay?”

It took you a few seconds before you replied “Okay.”, because you realised there was a lot you haven’t tried, but wanted to. So you appreciated Noah’s words more than he realized.

It was your turn to lean in for a kiss, using your tongue to make Noah open his mouth so you could deepen the kiss.

Your core softly, but enough for you to let out a moan, rolled over Noah’s bulge. You hid your face in the side of Noah’s face again.

“Okay look at me.” Noah had to use some of his strength to make you sit straight and look at his face. “I understand that you’re shy, but sex is about exploring and enjoyment. You obviously have a lot to explore and I want to help you with that, but you have to let me. You don’t have to hide your pleasure from me, I want to see it. And hear it.” his hands were on your thighs, thumbs gently stroking your skin to calm you down.

“I know, I just,” you sighed, mad at yourself for not finding the right words to express what you were feeling. “I guess I’m just really shy when it comes to this. Having sex was always the same ritual for me, I am getting used to all this new stuff.”

“I understand that. Is there something that I can do to help you?”

In fact there was something, but again, speaking your wants and desires was hard for you.

“Say it, I’m not gonna judge you Ella.” Noah saw the hesitation in your eyes and wanted to tell you his desires to make you feel better, but wasn’t sure if it wouldn’t have the opposite effect and scare your pure soul off.

You took a deep breath and hyped yourself as if you were asking him to marry you.

“Maybe you not looking at me would help. Like, close your eyes for the whole time.” you blurted out he almost didn’t understand you. Thank god he did, because if you had to say it out loud again, you’d rather just get up and leave.

He started smirking again, because you didn’t know what you just asked him to do was one of his very favorite things to do in bed.

“Okay.” he said and gently pushed you off of his lap and reached to his night stand. He opened the second drawer and moved a few things around until he found what he was looking for. Once he laid back on the mattress he started proposing his idea to you.

“I can put on this blindfold if that’s something that’ll make you more comfortable.” he showed you what he just took out of the drawer, a simple black blindfold. “And I’ll let you take the lead. You can explore my body, try things you’re shy to do when I can see you. You can put my hands anywhere you want me to touch you, or tell me what you want me to do. I’m all yours tonight, if that’s something you’d like to try?”

The idea alone made you clench your thighs together. He’d let you explore his body, something you’d very much appreciate.

“Okay.” you replied.

“Okay.” he said back and handed you the blindfold. “I’m yours.”

Noah laid down on his back and closed his eyes already. You kneeled next to him and before you put the soft fabric over his eyes you told him “If something makes you uncomfortable you’ll tell me, right?”, because in no way you wanted him to feel like he had to let you do anything to him.

“Of course. I trust you Ella.” and with that you lifted his head gently and put the blindfold where it’s supposed to sit.

“You can also tie my hands if you want to have full control.” he said it as a joke, but when you answered in a serious tone “No, I want you to touch me.” he knew he just woke up something inside you.

Given this opportunity, you wanted to have the full experience and take it slowly.

You leaned to capture Noah’s lips with yours. When you did, it was like a new spark between you two. He showed you he trusts you with his body and you showed him that you trust him too by agreeing to do this.

You continued kissing his soft lips and playing with his hair for a minute, getting comfortable in this familiar position before you knew what you wanted to do next.

You slowly moved your kisses from his lips to his jaw, giving him small pecks and moving in the direction of his left ear. You brushed your nose along his jaw before giving your attention fully to his ear. You bit at his earlobe a few times, adding more pressure with each bite. To erase any pain it could cause you used your tongue and licked his skin.

It seemed like suddenly you felt everything. You felt his solid chest under your hands, his breath tickling the skin on your face, his fingers twitch from time to time and the smell of his skin combined with his cologne.

You continued kissing his neck, sucking just a bit more at places where you felt his breathing change.

When you reach the fabric of his black t-shirt you said “I’m gonna take your shirt off.” in barely a whisper. He lifted himself and helped you out of the soft fabric.

You straddled his lap and your eyes scanned his chest. You always took a look at his body when you could, but this time knowing he can’t tease you about it, you let your eyes wander over his wide tattooed chest as long as they wanted to.

His arms were laying next to his body, because as he promised, he let you have the lead even with his touch on your body. You grabbed them and put his hands on your thighs and felt him give you a small encouraging squeeze. Your fingers wandered over his forearm, biceps, shoulders all the way to his chest. First you traced the lines of his tattoos, seeing goosebumps on his skin from your touch. Small things like these made your confidence shoot through the roof.

You noticed a particularly sharp breath when your fingers accidentally touched his nipple. You as a woman knew this was a sensitive part of the human body, so you wanted to know just how sensitive it is for Noah. Your fingers on both hands made small circles around his nipples and you felt another squeeze on your thighs. His pink nipples hardened under your touch and you couldn’t help yourself from leaning down and taking one of them in your mouth.

“Oh shit.” Noah whispered at the sudden hot feeling of your mouth, his mouth left hanging open.

You licked and sucked on his nipple a few more times before you moved for the other one. You felt Noah’s dick hard between your legs, his hips occasionally lifting a bit to get some fraction.

When you came back for Noah’s lips that were still open from the pleasure you just gave him, you had the perfect opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth. Again, he let you take the lead even when it came to kissing you, but you felt his lips turn into a smile. He was already feeling more confidence from your actions.

Your hands slid from his chest lower and lower until you reached the waistband of his jeans. You disconnected your lips and started undoing his belt. Once again he helped you to take his clothes off and when you saw him only in his underwear you realized you haven’t taken any of yours off.

Standing at the feet of his bed, you got rid of everything except your underwear and crawled back to where Noah was waiting for you.

You straddled his lap again and reached for his hands. They felt too big in your own hands, but they felt too good when you placed them on your waist. Noah’s fingers started to trace patterns in your soft skin, waitting for your next move. You moved them by his wrists all the way to your chest. He slid his thumbs over your still bra covered nipples, returning the pleasure from earlier. One of his hands grabbed you by the back of your neck as he lowered you enough for his mouth to reach your boobs. He sucked on your nipple through the thin lacy fabric and then took it between his teeth. You let out a silent moan.

“You can be louder. I know you want to be. I want to hear you, don’t hold back.” he whispered into your skin before he laid back down again.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, even though he couldn’t see it. He made you feel things your ex boyfriend never did. He made you feel wanted.

Your attention was back on his chest, his breathing back to normal as he was waiting for your next move.

You got off his lap and kneeled between his legs. Tracing your fingers along the waistband of his black Calvin Klein’s you noticed the wet spot where the tip of his dick would be. You wanted to try to be a little tease, so you palmed him over the black thin fabric with your thumb going over his tip.

“Fuck that feels good.” the fact is, even though dirty talk makes you blush and hide your face, it also turns you on, so when you combine Noah’s words and the fact that he can’t see you? Wave of confidence.

Leaning down your hands grabbed his thighs and your tongue teased him still over the fabric. You heard another “Fuck.” mumbled under his breath.

Your nails were gently scratching his skin and your mouth planted small kisses above his underwear. You felt his dick twitch from your touch, enough for the teasing you thought.

When you pulled the black underwear down his legs, his dick was hard and red. You took a moment to take the sight in, Noah laying as vulnerable as someone can be in front of you. He looked hot, even when he was laying still, silently calling for your touch, he was the most attractive guy you ever laid your eyes on.

You laid on your front between his legs and reached for his hard cock. You licked a stripe from the base to the tip, a few drops of precum landing on your tongue.

“Yeah, that’s it.” he groaned out, happier than ever to finally being touched there.

You stroked his shaft a few times, watching his facial reaction. His mouth was open, his chest going up and down and his hands were gripping the sheets.

When his precum wasn’t enough you took him in your mouth, slowly. Noah let out moans and grunts, feeling the warmth of your mouth was almost enough to finish him.

You let your saliva drip on him, making it easier for you to slide your hand up and down. When you didn’t have him in your mouth, your lips were grazing over the skin of his thighs, gently placing kisses there. You were experimenting with the pace, changing it from slow to fast to slow again.

“Fuck, don’t stop!” his breathing became quicker with every move of your hand. You took him in your mouth again, enjoying the feeling of him filling your mouth. When you flattened your tongue and smacked the tip of his swollen dick on it, he let out a sound that went straight between your thighs.

You continued the movement of your hand in steady pace, watching his face as he was getting closer and closer.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” he begged you, “I’m so close!” he moaned and seconds after that you felt hot liquid on your hand that made you look down.

You gave him a few more strokes before you stopped, watching the mess he made on his tummy and on your hand.

“Fuckin hell.” he let out a sigh of satisfaction, his dick still twiching from the intense orgasm. “Come here.” he reached for you with his hand and you crawled to face him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, messy and needy one.

“Let me clean you up.” you whispered against his lips and ran to his bathroom to wash your hand and then get some towel to wash the mess he made over himself.

“Are you okay? Do you want to continue?” Noah asked you when you came back from his bathroom.

“Yeah, I do. Do you?” you asked him back.

“Fuck yeah.” he was so turned on by this whole blindfold thing, he was ready to continue.

You just chuckled at his reaction and threw the wet towel on the floor after you were done.

You didn’t really know what to do, so you laid yourself on Noah’s chest and started kissing him again.

You were wet and ready to be touched by him.

After a while you started to be impatient and rubbed yourself over his dick just like you did in the car earlier.

“I know what you want, but I want you to ask for it. Put my hands where you want them.” he whispered between kisses.

It took you a few seconds of talking to yourself before you took one of his hands and slid it between your thighs.

Noah’s fingers teased you over your lacy panties, enjoying the whimpers he got from you in response.

“Noah.” you moaned. You were so worked up from this whole thing, you were sure you could come just from these gentle touches.

“Yeah? Let’s take these off.” he helped you take off your panties.

His hand was back between your legs, spreading your folds and teasing your entrance. You laid your head on his chest and moved your hips, desperate to get more from him.

“That’s it, ride my hand.” he encouraged you to move your hips again. His thumb found your clit with the right amount of pressure and his fingers continued to tease you.

“Good job, keep going.” he slid one of his fingers inside with ease given how wet you were.

You let yourself be louder with your moans, thinking his chest will muffle the sounds, but Noah could hear you pretty clearly. Your moans and the grip you had on his biceps made him hard again and he wasn’t far from letting his moans slip as well.

“You’re so sexy.” he felt you squeeze his fingers after he whispered more dirty things in your ear, smirking to himself.

“You like when I talk you through it don’t you?” he felt you squeeze him again, enough for him as an answer.

“Noah, fuck!” by the way you moaned his name and quickened the pace of your hip movements he knew you were close, so he slipped second finger in, giving you the right angle of his hand so after a few more rolls of your hips you reached your orgasm.

You stayed laying on Noah’s chest as his fingers made their way from your core to your mouth, leaving a wet trail on your side where he dragged them until he reached your lips and pushed them open. You licked his fingers clean, tasting yourself.

Noah couldn’t see you, but that didn’t stop his imagination and the groan from his throat.

“Everything okay? Can we continue?” he asked again, not sure if this wasn’t enough for you to stop for tonight.

“Yes.” you whispered.

“Is there a position you want to try?” his question surprised you.

“I don’t know.” you answered truthfully.

“What position feels the best for you?”

“I don’t know, I usually don’t reach orgasm from penetration.” you shrugged your shoulders. Noah still had the blindfold on so it was easier for you to confess.

“That’s okay, that’s normal.” he kissed your forehead, “You can tell me if you want to be on top. Or if you want me to take it off and take the lead from now. Huh?”

“Nah, you keep it on.” you ran your fingers along the fabric over his eyes.

“Looks like someone is enjoying themselves.” Noah laughed in a sincere way.

“Maybe.” you ran your finger down his nose and lips. You grabbed his chin and turned his head so you could kiss him. You sat properly on his lap without breaking the kiss.

“Can you move a bit so your back is against the headboard?” you whispered against his lips, already sure of what position you want.

Noah did what you asked him without asking any questions, his back against the headboard so he was in a more sitting position. You wanted to be on top, but also wanted to be close to him. You took your bra off and guided his hands to touch you there.

Your sudden act of confidence made him feral, he bit your lower lip and squeezed your tits.

When his thumbs found your nipples again, your head fell again in a bliss which gave him enough space to move his kisses to your neck and then to your chest.

He played with your skin, kissing, sucking and biting to get more moans from you.

When he felt your hips move, your wetness covering his dick and the silent moan of his name he told you where to find condoms in his night stand.

“Oh fuck!” Noah groaned when you slid down his dick, your mouth left open from the stretch.

Noah’s mouth immediately went for your neck while you enjoyed the feeling of being full.

When you started moving you felt Noah bite your skin. You haven’t tried much in this position so far in your intimate life, so you tried different moves.

First you were just slowly rolling your hips forwards and backwards. Noah encouraged you with his hands on your ass and “That feels so good.” in your ear every few seconds.

Then you grabbed his shoulders to stabilize yourself and moved up and down, enjoying every moan that left Noah’s throat when you bottomed him out. His head was resting on the headboard so you could watch his face every time you repeated your moves.

You enjoyed trying all the ways you can move your hips in this position, until you found a rhythm that felt the best for you. From then it was just a messy pace and hands all over each other. Your kisses went from slow and gentle to rushed and messy. Your fingers were scratching Noah’s back, leaving red scars there for sure. Meanwhile Noah licked his own fingers and slid them between your bodies to touch your clit.

Movement of his fingers became messy too the closer you got him to the second orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he said through gritted teeth, the squeeze of his hand on your ass proving his point.

The state he was in sent a wave of pleasure through your body. He was under you, with a blindfold over his eyes, mouth open and only moans slipping out. His hair was a mess and his skin was sweaty.

You were in your own bubble admiring the man under you, you didn’t even realize the warmth between your legs. Noah’s loud moan brought you back and you rode him through the aftershock of his orgasm.

His hand was still on your clit and as you felt your own climax approaching you reached for the black fabric that was covering Noah’s eyes and took it off.

Something inside you wanted him to see you when you come around his dick, with his hand on your clit and you on top of him. You wanted him to see it.

His brown soft eyes looking up at you with mouth open in shock but with admiration was what you needed to fall over the edge. Your head fell backwards, your breathing stopped for a second and you were sure you were seeing stars.

When you looked at Noah again, his smirk was all over his stupid pretty face. He didn’t have to say anything, it was all written all over his face.

You both cleaned yourselves up and changed into sleeping clothes. Noah brought you a glass of water from his kitchen and lifted his blanket for you to lay down.

You wanted to thank him, but didn’t know if it was appropriate or how to do it. Thankfully, like if he knew what was going on your mind, he spoke up first.

“It was nice seeing you come out of your shell tonight.” you hid the lower half of your face under the blanket even though he couldn’t see you anymore. The lights were turned off and you were both laying on your backs.

“Thank you.” your words were muffled by the blanket and Noah chuckled at your shyness.

He changed his position to lay on his side, the dim street lights allowing him to see only features of your face.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Sex should be fun. I’ll wear the blindfold more often if it brings out your deepest kinks and desires.” he joked, enjoying the face you make every time he says something like this. You hid yourself completely under the blanket, but couldn’t help the laugh that was coming out of your mouth.

“Shut up.” you slapped his chest and turned to lay on your chest to face him.

“Okay, I’m done with teasing you for today.” he did as he promised.

You didn’t fall asleep straight away, Noah asked you about your first and last relationship, this time in a serious way. You asked him about not having a relationship ever.

You got to know each other a bit better that night, moving your friendship to another level.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

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#frat boy noah #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian blurb #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens smut #x reader

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lara-cairncross · 20 hours ago

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Yo! You're art is awesome! (and great fandom choices (genuinely, love rottmnt and sonic)). The little marks you do on the sonic characters I.E. sonic with freckles, yellow bands on knuckles' hair(?), are so cute, they give your art such flavour. I'm super curious about the Shadow tear stain ish streaks on his cheeks, were they just like, they look cool or angsty reasons? (love it either way.)

thank you sm babes!! always happy to find more sonic and rise fans :DD

AHHHHH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM SOMEBODY MENTIONED SHADOW'S TEAR TRACKS!!! i've been wanting to talk about them!!! honestly, they're kind of a mix of both reasons? like in general i just cant resist adding extra little details to all the designs lol, but his tear tracks are fun because they only appeared after Maria's death :]

i had this thought of like-- despite all the experimentation and testing and training, the first time Shadow ever cried was when his sister died. and idk they just kinda showed up. symbolic of his grief ??? listen i never said i had a GOOD reason for them to be there im just having fun LMAO

the other markings/the antennae didn't show up immediately after her death, but instead after his time in stasis! general idea is that his body got jolted into fight-or-flight mode so quickly after being released that some of his Black Doom biology presented itself or smth

I'm glad you like all the other little details too! they're so fun to add lmao i kinda just went ham. like yeah it makes things take slightly longer to draw but its FUN!!! sonic's freckles specifically are meant to match up with Tom's freckles, cuz i love the idea of the two of them spending tons of time outside together and getting sunburnt! father-son bonding yuh

#asked and answered #shadow the hedgehog #my art

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poedays · 2 days ago

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In theme of the Porter/Treasure video being next, have a few misc fluff headcanons:

- Porter helping Treasure dye strands of their hair in their bathroom:

Treasure’s sink has already been stained with various colours, more prominently, cooler colours such as blues and purples stained the most brightly. Despite this, Treasure’s dye jobs always come out duller than they anticipate, their vibrant imagination for their appearance waters down into dusty versions of every colour. They don’t know what they’re doing wrong.

But one day Porter offers to help out, and so he uses his bare hands - reasoning he would gladly be stained for them - in which Treasure thought was stupid yet cute. Treasure’s sitting on their desk chair they’d dragged into their bathroom and Porter’s standing behind them - a headband holding his hair back, wearing one of Treasure’s old shirts, smiling and the most focused they’d ever seen him.

Somehow this time, even after days last from this moment, Treasure’s hair is bright and alive. Looking nothing like the dullness they were used to. And they have a photo of them and Porter kissing - their hair colour matching the endless stains covering Porter’s arms - as their lock-screen. It’s one of their fondest memories of him.

- Treasure tracing Porter’s scars:

Not only tracing, but kissing, humming a smile against. While they’re cuddling, whenever Treasure creeps up behind Porter when he’s doing something, a quick peck to his neck when he goes somewhere.

Treasure leaving lipstick stains all over his scars, all over his body, leaving a flustered and shy Porter splayed out on their bed as they take photos of him to stare at later on. Porter feeling absolutely like the luckiest man on earth as Treasure looks at him like they want to embrace him and never let go. Porter would let them too. He doesn’t even mind all of his scars, isn’t insecure about them, doesn’t care that they’re there, barely even thinks of them. But he won’t deny that Treasure treating him like they do doesn’t make him almost glad that they’re there.

- Treasure affectionately biting Porter:

So. Fairly self explainable. Porter finds it really funny when they just bite his arm or hand or something when they want to. He makes little remarks like “I thought I was the vampire in the relationship, but it seems not”, “careful there fangs”, “sharp ones you got there, are you sure you’re human?”, and such.

Treasure likes the looks of their teeth indents in Porter’s skin, and Porter likes the soft pain it grants him. Sometimes when Porter’s busy, Treasure’ll bite him a little harder to get his attention - kind of like in a ‘Babe tugging on Asher’s collar’ way.

Treasure bit Porter before he bit them. Porter likes to bring that up around people as a little fun story, Vincent found it really funny upon first hearing it. Lovely gave Treasure a high five.

@porters-fangs as you requested 🫡

#I like imagining a world in which they’re a cutsie couple #redacted audio #redacted porter #redacted treasure #redacted headcanons

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shehungers · 1 day ago

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CRACKS KNUCKLES let's get to business, Kiri

I want to say that this was SO MUCH FUCKING FUN to read! I'm not much of a superhero-loving gal, but spider-man is one of those heroes that is much more approachable and likeable than a lot of other ones. you "friendly neighborhood spider-man" after all. so, I'm glad that you chose that to go with and that you used Caleb as the hero because it just fucking fits so well!

before I dig in, just know that I haven't played LADS for a long time and certainly haven't played any of Caleb's storyline. so, I can't really make any comment on characterization besides what exists about him in the early parts of the game. if we're going based off of that, this feels very authentic and loyal to his character.

going off of my opinion of how you wrote a character like him: exquisite. you gave me the impression of a responsible older sibling or caretake with a mischievous streak. particularly in regards to the playful banter they share throughout the story, which is equal parts so bratty and caring and sweet that I love, love, love it!!!

a lot of the details you used to describe their relationship: Caleb usually does the cooking, but they dutifully split chores, eat together, consistently yapping with each other throughout the day, that worrying "stay safe" "be home before curfew" "I'll be home for dinner" stuff is just so domestic and ordinary, but something about how you used it in this fic is just so comforting to me; their normalcy is cozy and familiar and loving and lifelong and you did it SO well!!!

one thing I'll mention before I forget is when you were talking about jumping ahead/around w/o dividers or a time skip and having worries about it: don't be. I was purposefully searching for an, ah, rough division in the fic so I could maybe offer a suggestion on improvement. If you did do that, it's nothing so obvious that I noticed it at all!!! I think what "jumps" you did made sense for the narrative and were well-placed, so great work there!!!

what I will get out of the way in terms of a critique, but it's a light one: the length of some paragraphs did become a bit tedious here and there to get through. it's not always easy to figure out how to split up massive thoughts like that bc it all feels relevant to fit into one place, but it makes for more approachable readability to break them down a bit. and I'm saying this as someone who has tendencies to do exactly the same thing.

my proofreaders will tell me to dial it back or split things up sometimes bc I can get so, ah, wordy.

however, I'm also giving you credit here that your readability and flow is excellent! for the most part, I was able to keep scrolling down on my phone without experiencing any hangups, any awkwardness in phrasing or reading. so, truly, wonderful work with that bc achieving good flow can be a difficult task.

okay, that's all I can think of off the top of my head, so I'm dropping screenshots of stuff to yap about:

so fucking same oh my god. I feel this so bad and would've done exactly the same.

there is just something so particularly human and sweet about this paragraph that I just really adore. It does sort of give that childlike idolization where we mimicked people we admired, were inspired by the things they did. But, I love this in the context of mc being an adult and using it as motivation to overcome life challenges. idk idk I just love it

oh my GOD—same. thief running off with my shit? but the crosswalk has 10 more seconds 😫😫😫😫😫 so fucking real. mc is so real for this.

okay, now we're getting into the stuff that I live for when it comes to writing nuanced or small details. agitation causing sleeplessness; overstimulation by way of hyper vigilance, clothes feeling rough? these are excellent little details that can really bring depth into pieces. these are the sort of details that people can feel. the rough clothes are coarse and itch, y'know?

there wasn't much conflict in this fic, which is a-okay, but one thing that I particularly liked was mc's borderline paranoia and hang-up over the fact that he had kept secrets and lied to mc, which I think leans really well into their bond and sort of dynamic that they have. this little passage really stood out to me and was quite potent.

and, the last one:

I also like that in this fic, it was less an issue of caleb's dual-idenities vs MC and more mc vs MC, bc I feel like this entire section you wrote was basically mc internally warring with their own insecurities and fears, rather than having any true issues with Caleb. You present Caleb as surefooted—he knows what he wants, what he's doing, what he's committed to. he is unwavering, he is a solid force and doesn't budge once. that includes his dedication to mc.

MC is the one who wavers and worries and frets and withdraws because it takes them a long time to come to terms with the change and how their lives were going to be inevitably altered forever. and I REALLY love that that's the vibe I got from everything bc sometimes the war within yourself is worse than exists against others, y'know?

I think you did really well exploring all of that!

overall, kiri, I can see all of the heart and work you've put into this piece and I'm so proud of you that you saw it until the end. you have every right to be excited over this piece bc you did the concept justice and executed it beautifully!!!!!!!!

Homecoming

You’re a casual fan, you think. Spider-Man is cool, and you just really like him. That’s all... until you learn that the friendly neighbourhood web-slinger is so much closer than you think.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | superhero AU & Spider-Man Caleb | descriptions of anxiety, fluff, happy ending, mentions of blood and bruises, secrets, slice-of-life (as much as it can possibly be), some angst and hurt/comfort | ~7,6k words

A/N.⠀I really said "I'm going on a writing hiatus" and "I'm gonna lock in" with my whole chest knowing damn well I'm a liar ... anyway yeah this fic was inspired by this Spider-Man Caleb fanart... it made me go crazy.... I hope you enjoy!

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

@hunters-association @theseabreezestreet

You were on the verge of a breakthrough. You just knew it.

You were absentmindedly swinging your legs back and forth as you sat at the table. Your laptop was open and displaying several windows—some were images of Spider-Man, some were news articles. Your tablet, and in turn, your notes, had gone completely forgotten. Spending time passively scrolling social media was far from productive, but compared to what you were reading, exam revision was totally dull.

Developing an interest in Spider-Man had been unintentional. You saw him mentioned in the news. Out of curiosity, you looked him up, and all of a sudden, you found yourself deep in the rabbit hole. Before long, you were up-to-date with daily news, keeping up with his movements and making friends with fellow Spider-Man fans. It was swift and unexpected, but you found it more fun than whatever you were previously doing.

He was far from the first superhero Linkon City had seen. There used to be rumours about the God of the Tides and how he ruled the seas for centuries before he found the love of his life. There was also Lumière of the N109 zone, a vigilante who suddenly stopped being active about fourteen years ago. Legends of the Abysm Sovereign and the Foreseer were passed down through generations. No one had proof they existed, only the product of their labour. It was as if they didn’t want to be seen. Still, that didn’t stop your interest from getting piqued.

The difference between Spider-Man and the past legends of Linkon City was that Spider-Man was still active. A web-slinging genius with a no-kill rule, he made the streets significantly safer. Photos and surveillance footage of him were constantly shared, but no one had any luck finding his identity yet. You weren’t investigating him for malicious reasons. You were just, for the lack of a better word, nosy. You wanted to know the man behind the mask instead of the neighbourhood guardian the news always talks about.

You looked at your screen. There was a rough timeline of his appearances the past week. He was in different parts of the city, catching robbers and other criminals with his presumably handmade technology. There wasn’t a strict pattern to how he operated. It seemed that he liked to lurk before making a move. It was how he brought down the corrupted colonels of the Farspace Fleet. Fighting crime appeared to be easy for him, and he wasn’t as destructive as some were. It was impressive. Everything he did had you in awe. His dexterity and swiftness, his strength and courage—he was just what Linkon City needed, you thought.

Just as you were about to go into another deep dive, a hand pushed your laptop shut. Caleb was towering over you when you snapped your gaze to him, brows furrowed as you gave him an offended look. He lightly jabbed your forehead and only smiled in response, seemingly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re supposed to be studying.”

You sputtered. “I was studying!”

“No, you weren’t. You were looking at Spider-Man again.” He tapped his fingers on your tablet, reilluminating the screen once more. “Your exams are next week. You need to focus.”

“I can multitask,” you argued half-heartedly. “And, I’ve never let you down, have I?”

Caleb took the seat across from you with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess not.”

“Why do you hate Spider-Man so bad anyway?” You frowned, trying to move his hand away. He didn’t budge. “He’s keeping the city safe. That’s a good thing!”

“I don’t hate him, but you’ve been distracted. I’m trying to help you.”

“You sound jealous,” you joked. Resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Are you sad I’m not giving you enough attention?”

He pursed his lips, visibly unimpressed. “Set the table. Dinner’s ready.”

“You’re no fun!” you whined. “It’s not my fault there’s finally something interesting!”

You begrudgingly moved your items to the side and got up to make your way to the kitchen, slippers sliding against the floor. The savoury aroma swirled into the air, making your stomach growl involuntarily. Your irritation now forgotten, you made quick work of setting the table and pouring two glasses of water. With your job finished, you waited at the table, eyes drifting over to the TV on the wall. The screen displayed two reporters behind a desk beginning the evening segment. It faded into a clip of men webbed stuck to a lamppost, undoubtedly the work of Spider-Man himself. They were looking to rob an innocent passerby before the webslinger caught them red-handed.

“Huh. That’s where we live,” you spoke up after rereading the headline.

Caleb placed the plates on the table. “That’s why I always tell you to be home before curfew.”

“It’s not like I break curfew anyway,” you grumbled. “You know I hate being out when it’s dark.”

Distracted, you kept your eyes on the screen. The public had mixed opinions about Spider-Man himself. You, along with your circle of friends, thought of him as a hero, feeling safer knowing that he was out there protecting innocent people. From helping an old woman cross the street to busting evil plans, he was using his talents and intelligence for good. He worked tirelessly every day to keep the streets pristine and harmless. The police, on the other hand, weren’t as fond of him. The LCPD openly expressed their distaste for Spider-Man, citing that he was an obstacle in their investigations. Some people thought he was just another guy with a gimmick. These criticisms didn’t seem to bother him at all. If anything, every time someone said anything negative about him, he’d work even harder just to prove them wrong.

You knew it was far from wise to idolise a public figure, but with Spider-Man, he inspired you to do your best every day. You liked to imagine he’d be proud of you if he knew you. You worked hard and powered through no matter how many setbacks you had. As silly and childish as it sounded, he made for great motivation. He was a good guy, he was cool, and—

Caleb waved his hand in front of your face, a warning tone in his voice. “Pipsqueak.”

You jolted, snapping back to the present. “Sorry!”

“Why do you like Spider-Man so much?” he asked, poking at his food. “You got a crush on him?”

You sputtered. “What? No!”

He gave you a look that urged you to continue. Heat rose to your face as you felt a spotlight shining down upon you, giving you the floor. It was hard not to feel embarrassed about something that felt so childish. You hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of words to say. Knowing you were going to sound like a child regardless, you sulked, defeated, and finally gave him a response.

“It’s just… I really like superheroes,” you mumbled timidly, fiddling with your fingers. “I admire people who use their strength for good. Like you!”

The corners of his lips twitched. He seemed pleased. “So do you like me or Spider-Man more?”

“You are jealous!” you said with an accusatory tone. “Caleb, it’s not like that! It’s like… You know when you have a favourite celebrity? That’s what Spider-Man is to me.”

He made a face, though he ended up relenting. “Okay. I get it.”

“Yeah! It’s kinda like how you used to like—”

“Your food’s gonna get cold,” he interrupted, flustered. “I put all my effort into making your favourite. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Fine,” you drawled out, unable to hold back the smile from stretching across your lips.

Spider-Man eventually faded to the back of your mind throughout dinnertime. You found yourself engrossed in conversation with Caleb, slipping into the normal banter and routine with ease. Somewhere in between, he changed the channel to natural documentaries instead. When you gave him a questioning look, he just shrugged and said that you should take a break with him. Not one to deny his requests, your laptop went forgotten as you spent the remainder of the night on the couch with him.

It was nearing midnight, and from the way that you yawned, you were nearing your limit as well. The documentary was long finished; the past few minutes were just advertisement after advertisement, regular products with unnecessarily catchy jingles. You glanced over at him, suddenly curious. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be tired at all. If you were more awake, you’d notice the anxious bouncing of his leg or the worried furrow in his brow, but fatigue was catching up to you fast. With another yawn, you pushed yourself to your feet, taking the throw blanket with you.

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

He smiled at you. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Fully sated and worn out, sleep came as easily as breathing. Images flickered behind your eyes, displaying dreams and vignettes in film reels. You dreamt of endless summers and sweetness, of growing up and exploring the world. When you woke up the next day, only a fragment of those memories remained. Caleb was already gone when you left your room. He left a note saying he’d left early and that breakfast was in the fridge. After treating yourself to his homemade cooking, you set off for classes and got the day started. It wasn’t very eventful. Classes weren’t particularly interesting. Lectures were about things you already knew, and a majority of your classmates were absent, leading to little to no conversation. Before long, the academic day was over, and it was time to return home.

The streets were bustling with activity as you waded through the crowd. Clamour and chatter were more than loud, people surrounded you, and the scent of car fumes mixed with savoury food bombarded all of your senses. You were starting to see now why people liked to say that Linkon City never sleeps. With everyone getting off work, the city was beyond crowded. Restaurants were fully seated, as were the cafés. Traffic went by incredibly slowly. Dogs barked to the sound of car horns and people were emerging from the train station in groups. You gripped your bag tightly, anxiety clawing at the back of your mind. News and posters about pickpockets were nearly a regular occurrence; it was better to be safe than sorry.

You managed to make it to a street where there were less people. You recognised some of the vendors out and about, offering them warm smiles as you walked past. Occasionally, you stopped by and bought a few snacks to take home. Now having your hands full, you were more than ready to go home and unwind. You hummed a catchy pop tune under your breath, leisurely walking down the path when the TV screens in the electronic stores came alive. You came to a stop, standing in front of the clear glass. It was a news segment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the screen displaying surveillance of Spider-Man was context enough.

He single-handedly stopped a burglary, moving with inhuman agility and fighting with incredible strength. It showed a group of men bound together by his webs, cursing and fruitlessly struggling to break free. It took a few seconds before the familiarity of the background sank in. The convenience store, the townhouses and the DVD store… The incident happened not too far from home. A frown overtook your features. Despite the crime rate being significantly lower thanks to Spider-Man’s efforts, the curfew was still in place, and the unrest remained. It was not any different for you.

As you made a move to continue your walk, you felt something being snatched from your grasp—your bag. The thief ran at full speed, deftly navigating through the crowd as you yelled for help and followed him, aggressive footfalls slapping against the concrete. Absentminded apologies left your lips whenever a complaint was heard from a passerby. Your chest was beginning to ache, but you needed it back. It had everything. Your phone, your wallet, your house keys with the chain Caleb bought for you. You couldn’t afford to lose it.

The traffic light turned red just as the thief crossed to the other side. You contemplated just dashing through, but anxiety kept you rooted to your spot. They were going further into the distance. You bounced on your heels nervously, eyes glaring at the timer. 40, 39, 38…

It was now or never.

Cars honked at you as you ran to the other side, the combination of noise nearly sending you jumping out of your skin. You pushed through your fatigue and kept running until you tripped over your shoelaces, collapsing to the ground with a loud thud. You hopelessly reached out, watching the thief’s silhouette disappear into the distance. Tears of frustration sprang up to your eyes and you buried your face in your hands, uncaring of how you looked to other people. You weren’t fast enough. All your important things were gone, about to be left somewhere you could never find, and your information would be stolen—

“This yours?”

Your bag was dangling in front of you. Were you so distraught that you were hallucinating having someone come to your aid? You blinked and stared at it dumbly, your mind trying to grapple with the situation. The person crouched down to your level, and Spider-Man’s face came into view.

Wait…

You screamed in surprise, frantically pushing yourself away from him. “What—”

“Hey, hey, It’s okay. It’s just me. I webbed him. He’ll be stuck there for another three hours,” he said casually, speaking as though he was just another regular pedestrian and not the famed vigilante of Linkon City. “I had to look at your ID card to make sure it was you, but I’m glad I got to you in time. Here, take it.”

You barely managed to catch the bag as you were still gawking at him. What felt like a thousand questions were popping up rapidly in your head. How did he know? When did he get here? What was going on? How was he so fast? Caught off guard by your stunned silence, he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly, feeling awkward under your stare.

“Everything okay?” Spider-Man asked tentatively, waving a hand in front of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, your reaction slightly delayed. “N-No.”

“Listen, I have to go. There’s gonna be a robbery on Ninth Street.” He helped you get on your feet, carefully making sure you had your balance. “Get home safe, okay? And don’t leave past curfew.”

“Okay,” you said, dumbfounded. It didn’t take long before you managed to snap yourself back to awareness. “Yeah, okay. Thank you for getting this back to me.”

He did a casual salute before aiming his web shooter at a building, swinging away with ease. Digging through your bag, you were relieved to find that everything was intact. Once the confusion went away, excitement came rushing in. You hastily grabbed your phone and dialled Caleb’s number, lips curling into a grin. He picked up after the first ring.

“What’s up?”

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” you said in one breath. “I just met Spider-Man.”

A loud crash was heard in the background.

You hesitated. “Are you busy? It sounds like you’re in the middle of something…”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it. So, you met Spider-Man?”

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“Uh, pipsqueak?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I did! I’m walking home right now. Someone tried to steal my wallet and I couldn’t catch them, but Spider-Man did and he got it back for me. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Someone tried to rob you?” You could practically hear the frown in his voice. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You blinked. “You’re at work. What were you gonna do?”

He fell silent. It took a couple of beats before he spoke up again.

“Well, I’m glad you got your stuff back. Just make sure to be home before sundown. Tell me when you’re back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back in time for dinner, I promise.”

“It’s okay! Take your time,” you reassured him. “I’m heading home now. See you.”

You had a pep in your step for the rest of the way, feeling in high spirits after the encounter. The weight on your shoulders was lifted, leaving you feeling lighter. You didn’t realise how much you needed to breathe. Relieved would be an understatement—it was as if everything fixed itself in front of you. You didn’t generally consider yourself a lucky person, but today, you had won. The encounter with Spider-Man replayed itself in your mind, echoing his voice, reminding you of the proximity you shared.

After sending Caleb a quick text to let him know you got back safely, you began to cool down from the day. You tossed your keys on the counter and went straight for your room, determined to change out of your sweaty clothes. Since he was normally the one to cook dinner, you didn’t have to do much preparation in the kitchen. You put away the clean dishes, washed the leftover ones in the sink, and decided to tidy up a little. With your tasks done, you returned to the living room and flopped down onto the couch with a groan. Though you didn’t hold high expectations for what was on TV, you turned it on for background noise anyway, half-listening to the dialogue in the show that was playing.

The clock on the wall continued to tick. Caleb would get off work soon. You ended up smiling to yourself, excited to tell him about your day. Lying comfortably on the couch, you continued to passively scroll through social media to kill time. You were beginning to hear the telltale sounds of people returning home. The sound of a car door closing, your neighbour’s doorbell ringing, eager dogs overjoyed to see their owner home. Considering the traffic you’d seen earlier, Caleb returning a little later than usual wouldn’t be that irregular.

With that in mind, your worries were eased a little. But as minutes faded into hours, nighttime came, and not a single call or message from Caleb was seen. Worried, you sent him a text, only for them to be left on delivered. Calling him led straight to voicemail. Growing increasingly agitated, you called him again and again, only to achieve the same result. He always told you if he was going to be late. He always picked up after the first ring. But your attempts to get through to him went unseen, and it was getting harder trying not to sink into your anxiety the longer his silence went.

You paced around the room, fingers clutching your phone as the call went to voicemail again. Your eagerness for dinner had long dissipated and was replaced by immense dread. Worst-case scenarios were starting to appear in your mind, fuelling your panic with its increasingly violent visions. You chewed on your nail as you paced back and forth, trying to reach Caleb to no avail. The situation was growing more dire with each passing second.

You glanced at the time. It was three in the morning. You were wide awake on pure adrenaline and distress. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel tired. It was as though all of your senses were on high alert. Everything was too loud, too much, and your clothes felt rough against your skin. Instinctively, you made your way into his room and crawled into his bed, hugging his pillow and rocking back and forth. The smell of his detergent and perfume soothed you enough to have you breathing normally again. Your fingertips dug into the material, knuckles going white and shaking from how rigid your grip was.

The world started to feel less daunting when you finally calmed down. You felt exhausted, completely boneless. Your eyelids were getting heavier, and as you lay there surrounded by everything he owned, you found yourself falling slowly. The room is dim with only the city lights outside peeking in through the curtains. You felt a cold draft coming through the window, sending shivers running down your spine. Fabric rustled and you felt the mattress dip, immediately jolting you awake. A mixture of relief and fury washed over you.

“Caleb?”

His breath hitched.

You blindly patted the nightstand in search of the lamp switch. Once the room was illuminated, you squinted at him through half-lidded eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” you asked groggily. “I’ve been—”

Your eyes dropped to his outfit. It was the same suit that Spider-Man wore, although more torn and worn down. Whatever tiredness was left in your system dissipated when you saw him. You sat still for a few moments, trying to contemplate whether you were imagining things or if this was real. You didn’t know where to begin. It was as if time stopped. There he was, the person you had been waiting for, standing at the foot of the bed like a deer caught in the headlights. You stared at him with your mouth agape, your mind struggling to put the pieces together despite the obviousness in front of you.

You didn’t know where to begin. Did he always sneak back home like this? What happened to him? In the end, you settled for the most urgent one in your mind—

“How long have you been hiding this from me?”

He forced a smile, the gesture awkward and tense. “A couple of months.”

“Months?” you asked, voice rising in volume. “You’ve been—you—god, I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips. “Come here.”

He tentatively complied, sitting down in the spot next to you. Your hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing over the bruises and making him grimace slightly. He didn’t say a single word. It was as if he was also dumbfounded himself. You were still upset, but the longer you looked at him, the more the anger faded. At least he was home. Injured, but still home in one piece. It was leagues better than the thousands of scenarios your mind was conjuring up earlier.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically meek. It was unlike the Caleb you grew up with.

“But it can wait,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.”

His arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he held you close to him, a shaky breath escaping his lips. He held onto you with a desperation you’d never seen before. He relaxed into your touch just the slightest, reassured by feeling your warm body against his. You pressed your cheek to where his heart would be, feeling its steady rhythm remind you that he was here—that he was home.

Your voice was meek when you spoke. “I thought you left me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you decided with radio silence?” you snarked back. Something in his expression flickered, making you calm down once again. You frowned at the amount of bruises visible on his face and the dried blood on his split lip. Softening, you told him, “Go take a shower and get changed. I’ll patch you up.”

He didn’t argue. He only nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, walking sluggishly. The sound of running water filled the stifling stillness as you took a proper glance around the room. There was an evidence board, several open books, and a well-used first aid kit on the desk. Your heart sank. Just how long had he been doing this, getting himself hurt and having to mend himself? Didn’t he trust you? Why did he keep this a secret from you? You heaved out a sigh and hid your face in your hands, frustration and sadness simmering beneath the surface.

There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but this wasn’t the right time. Right now, all you could do was be there for him.

He emerged a handful of minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes. You scooted over and patted the space next to you, lips pressed in a taut frown. Now that the suit was off, you could see the hits he’d taken more clearly. Splashes of blue and purple were scattered across his skin, some big and some small. There were a couple of cuts and scrapes close by, both old and new. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.

“Sit,” you urged timidly. You gingerly applied the ointment on his bruises, careful not to hurt him as he stared up at you. He looked so vulnerable and so fragile that it made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of its confines. “Talk to me. Please.”

“It was Gran,” he said. “She made a serum. I didn’t know it until a few days later. I was stronger, faster… I could hear everything. I could feel everything.”

“How come I never knew this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m supposed to be your hero, remember?” He laughed in a self-deprecating way, avoiding your gaze. “I had to stay strong. Figure things out, get stronger… Make sure you’d always be safe.”

Setting the first aid kit aside, you pulled him into your arms once again. He held onto you tightly, fingers grabbing the fabric of your shirt so tightly that his hands were trembling. You raked your fingers through his hair and brushed them back, keeping them away from the wounds on his face. For a moment, it felt like there were only the two of you in the world. All you could hear was his quiet breathing as he latched onto you, unwilling to let go.

It broke your heart to see him this way.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me.”

“No, that’s not it,” he sighed. “I’d go through anything for you. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t keep any secrets from me anymore.” You pulled away. He looked up at you with a pained expression, years of secrecy and isolation making themselves known in his glossy eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. “Can you do that for me?”

He nodded weakly.

“I need words, Caleb,” you said, your voice firmer than intended. You cupped the side of his face, feeling him clasp your hand with his own, warm and calloused. “Can you promise me that?”

“I can,” he exhaled shakily. “I promise.”

The tears you were holding back brimmed at the corners of your eyes, small droplets sliding down the sides of your face. A hushed whimper broke out of you. Caleb held on to you like you were his lifeline, refusing to let go for even a split second. The gravity of his words weighed heavy, as did him baring his heart. He melted in your embrace, sinking deep into your comfort as you gently scratched his scalp, easing every worry he was holding.

“Don’t lie to me again, okay?” you murmured into his ear.

“I won’t anymore. I swear.”

—

Though months seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, the emotional turmoil stayed deep in your heart the entire time.

Life had turned completely upside down. With the new knowledge of him being Spider-Man looming over you, you were having trouble placing yourself. Some days, you felt excited and happy for him. He was more open with you when it came to his successes. He’d tell you about the petty criminals he caught or the passersby he helped while swinging through the city. He was passionate about his identity as Spider-Man, and he was committed. You wanted to support him in every step of the way. Some days, you’d feel like you were sinking. You previously didn’t worry all too much when Caleb returned home late, but since that day, fear and anxiety kept you company on lonely nights.

He didn’t always return looking completely beat up. Sometimes he was unscathed. Sometimes it was just a couple of bruises. But you hated being home alone, especially in the dark where everything seemed to get much worse. You were losing sleep because you’d stay up to wait for him to come home. You needed to see him with your own eyes, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep in peace. He tried to give you estimated times to soothe you, but it didn’t always work. You’d wait in the living room, rock yourself back and forth as you wondered if he was coming home.

Your mind wouldn’t let you forget that he lied, either. You already forgave him a long time ago, but you remembered. You’d question yourself, question him, and what would come after was an overwhelming sense of guilt. He was trying. He was more open. He was showing you an important part of himself, bringing you along with him on his journey, yet doubts still lingered in your mind. He kept his cheerful disposition, constantly reassuring you that everything was going to be fine, but your mind was filled with what-ifs. What if he was hiding more from you? What if he was lying? What if he thought of you as a burden?

It was irrational to feel this way. You knew that very well, and yet, you still felt like you were fading out of his life. You talked to Caleb normally, interacted with him like you always did, but something felt different. It was as if he was drifting further and further away from you. Your outstretched hand, desperately trying to reach him, and his fading silhouette. Everything had changed. You felt like you were losing him in real time and there was nothing you could do about it. Everything had changed, yet it was all the same. You still had breakfast together. He still picked up the phone after the first ring. He still smiled at you, looked at you like you were his whole world. You were teetering between security and uncertainty. You didn’t want to feel this way, but you were helpless. These feelings came by themselves, and the more time you spent alone, the more difficult it became to ignore them.

Your sentiments towards Spider-Man had only grown stronger with the knowledge that Caleb was him. His name was more well-known in the city, growing popular among kids and women, and he was constantly being praised by the press. You supported him. You had total faith in him, trusted in him and his strength. But sometimes you’d stay awake stressing about how safe things truly were. More fame meant more notoriety among criminals, and you’d often wonder how long it would be before something drastic happened. You wanted the best for him, you really did, but something guttural gnawed at you. The desire to keep him to yourself, the need to protect him. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh, to keep him in your maw. You wanted to hide him away somewhere only you knew.

You dreamt of it sometimes—of risking your life for him just to keep him safe. You constantly wondered if things would be easier for him if you left. You knew there was much that he wasn’t sharing with you yet. You knew it would take time regardless of how much he trusted you, Still, you felt as though you were being kept in the dark. Being Spider-Man seemed to be so easy for him. It suited him, even. You couldn’t see anyone else doing the same thing that he did. But you didn’t know what you were meant to be. You felt for him very deeply, as did he, but the vagueness in the air bothered you more and more every day.

Were you only being selfish?

You thought back on one of the mornings you spent with him. A full spread of breakfast lay across the table and the news played in the background. The sun was shining bright, peeking through the gap between the curtains, and the weather was good. But there was a sense of foreboding that loomed over you, one that you couldn’t keep to yourself. You called his name softly, leading him to look away from the screen.

“Are you okay?” you asked. He blinked at you, confused by the question.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Somehow, it wasn’t enough.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t know.

“I’m good. Sorry, I just thought you looked a little distracted.”

The lie slipped out of you with ease. You felt childish. You felt burdensome for needing reassurance from him that he wasn’t going to leave you behind, but you could never bring yourself to say it. Between your pride and the overwhelming fear of rejection, the words you desperately wanted to stay would remain within the confines of your mind. He didn’t seem to be convinced by any means, but he didn’t push the matter. A part of you wished he did.

It wasn’t a fight. There was nothing wrong. Even when he returned home blood and bruised, exhausted out of his mind, you took care of him with love and care. It didn’t matter that you didn’t understand why he was risking his life. Caleb never broke his promises or broke away from the path to his goals. He wasn’t about to let you stop him. With great power comes great responsibility, he said. But was this responsibility thrust upon him, or was he doing it out of his volition?

You hated feeling helpless. You knew he didn’t need you to do anything, but you felt like you weren’t an integral part of his life anymore. You felt like a bystander, like someone he was slowly forgetting. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should feel happy that he still cared about you, that he cared about the city to give his all into protecting it, yet your mind just wouldn’t let you. Your thoughts on Caleb hadn’t changed. You still thought he was the most important person to you, but what used to be admiration and even love for Spider-Man was turning into resentment little by little.

Some days, you hated him. You felt like a little kid without her favourite toy. You felt like a lonely child in a class full of people. You knew it was useless to dwell on these things, so you tried to occupy yourself. You put all your effort into your studies. You kept yourself busy doing chores even on the days when it was his turn. You didn’t wait to eat dinner with him; you went out for food and drinks with your friends, came back a bit later than the sunset. It wasn’t as if he’d notice. He wasn’t home when you needed him to be.

His name was constantly trending on social media. Spider-Man rescues bus from hijackers. Spider-Man stops bank robbery. Spider-Man comics and merchandise releasing. His name became the talk of the town, earning the attention of the rest of the country. The newfound fame kept him even busier to the point where people were starting to dig deeper into his true identity, leading fans and investigators to wait outside your home. You kept ignoring them, but they were persistent. Your declining of their questions only made them more curious. Not only did you feel like he was slipping out of your grasp, but also like the safety of home was in jeopardy.

It wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t blame him for it. But sometimes you wondered if he knew just how much this was affecting you, as self-centred as it seemed. The satisfaction you expected from uncovering the truth about Spider-Man never came. The final piece of the puzzle was right in front of you, living and breathing under the same roof as you were, and all you could harbour was disappointment.

What Caleb was doing was major. He was keeping the city safe—keeping his home safe, for you and everyone. You found yourself sinking further into guilt and bitterness, the light at the surface growing smaller as you fell deeper and deeper. It was childish of you to be throwing a tantrum over something like this. So, you decided to grin and bear it. He understood you like the back of his hand; doing the same to him was the very least you could do. You pestered him less about his missions, stopped trying to call again and again when he didn’t respond. He’d always come home, even if it took days. He never broke promises. He promised he wouldn’t.

If he noticed the change in you, he didn’t mention it. His actions, however, said otherwise. He did his best to pay more attention to you. He tried to spend as much time with you as he could despite your conflicting schedules. He listened to everything you spoke about, promised you to be careful when you asked, and continued to protect you in his own way. You didn’t know exactly what it was that seemed to switch the dynamic completely, but at a certain point, you were no longer drowning in the pool of negativity. The sun seemed to shine brighter, the flowers in full bloom, and your cheeks ached from how much you’d been smiling. The lingering sense of foreboding faded into nothingness, replaced by pure optimism and trust. The future didn’t feel so glum anymore.

You supposed all you needed was time.

Time to heal, time to process everything. Time had a way of turning wounds into scars, healing phantom pains into a comfortable stillness. The claws that had your heart in a death grip had loosened, letting go of the chains they wrapped around it. You felt lighter, happier. Some semblance of normalcy had returned—as normal as it could be considering his dual life, but you weren’t going to take it for granted. You felt like you could finally breathe after being underwater for so long. Even here, where you were alone in the apartment, you didn’t feel lonely. It was… normal. A relief. It didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

It was quiet save for the sound of your nails tapping against the keyboard. It was a sunny afternoon. Having had a productive morning, you aimed to finish the rest of the day in the same way. You were focused and determined to finish the essay quickly so you had more free time. But as the hours went by, that determination waned, and you found yourself at a dead end. You blankly stared at the blinking cursor on the word document. It almost felt like the thing was mocking you. Fatigue and boredom were catching up to you increasingly quickly. You knew the material by heart. You knew what you wanted to talk about. Yet no words came to mind—you were drawing a blank, and the thoughts in your mind were already drifting off elsewhere.

The counter was littered with snacks, surely something Caleb would chide you for. Your tumbler was long empty, left with nothing but melted ice cubes at the bottom. The dishes awaited cleaning in the sink and the TV remained turned on, playing a rerun of some generic soap opera. Defeated, you closed the word document, eyes drifting to the window beside you.

Outside, the skyline was painted in hues of orange and blue. Birds flew over the horizon, ready to migrate elsewhere for the upcoming spring. Your chest rose and fell with your exhale as you let your mind wander. You used up your creativity for the day, you thought. You haven’t made significant progress on the essay since you started it a few hours ago. Before you could beat yourself up about it, three loud knocks were heard from the window. Caleb’s masked face peeked over the wall as he gave you a gentle wave. Giddy, you got off your chair and skipped over, fingers deftly undoing the lock on its doors. You slid it open, allowing him to crawl in.

“I thought you were busy fighting crime,” you teased, watching as he took the mask off. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were flushed from exertion. “Are you slacking off?”

He huffed, amused. “I can multitask.”

He unhid his hand from his back and handed you a large bouquet of sunflowers, the gesture immediately making you melt. Flowers weren’t that out of the ordinary. Caleb liked bringing you gifts and trinkets he thinks you’d like. You got an equally large bouquet during your high school graduation and another one when you were accepted into university. You took it with a smile, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ and curiously looking at him. He bounced on the heels of his feet, seemingly nervous about something. His brows knitted together.

“You okay?”

He met your gaze. “Do you still think Spider-Man is better than me?”

You blinked a few times, confused. From the way he said it, it appeared that it wasn’t the first time he thought of something like this. You chuckled and crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to the other leg.

“Getting jealous of yourself, Caleb?” It was your turn to be amused. “I never said he was my number one hero.”

“You never said I was your number one hero either.”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “Why is this important? You’re the same person.”

“I just wanna know,” he said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“First of all, that happened once,” you corrected, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Second of all, I love you. Spider-Man or not.”

His lips curled into a smile. “You love me?”

Warmth blossomed across your chest, rising all the way up to your cheeks as your lips parted in surprise, sputtering incoherent syllables. You awkwardly turned your head away, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Love had never been discussed, not really. It just felt like an unspoken commitment since you were children. He was the most important person to you, and you were the most important person to him. You never really thought about labelling your relationship.

Your eyes widened when you remembered you always referred to him as your partner whenever you spoke of him to your friends. You already gave it a label without realising it. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, struggling to come up with a reply. You could feel his gaze on you, hear the satisfaction and mischief in his words. Clearing your throat, you tried to compose yourself and decided to follow through. You couldn’t take it back anyway, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.

“Yeah. I do,” you said, feigning indifference. “I thought you knew that.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from expanding into a grin. A breathless chuckle left him. His cheeks seemed to be getting even pinker as he fidgeted in his spot. He scratched the back of his head with flustered giddiness, struggling to keep eye contact with you. You didn’t think you ever saw him this shy. He was always your brave hero Caleb, the same boy who held you when you had nightmares, the same boy who held your hand when the thunderstorms got too loud. He was the same boy who defended you from bullies and got into trouble for getting into a fight with them. He was the same man who held nothing but affection in his words for you, the same man who would fall into playful banter with you.

You sighed softly, the corners of your lips twitching up. “You’re not gonna say it back?”

Though he didn’t need to, there was still a hint of insecurity in your tone. You looked at him expectantly, still watching as he tried to maintain composure. You weren’t used to seeing him this way, but you thought you could learn to do it. It made for a rather nice sight.

“I love you too, pipsqueak,” he finally said.

You beamed at him, placing the bouquet on the counter before leaping into his arms, delightfully laughing when he caught you effortlessly. You looped your arms around his neck and hooked your chin on his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped around him, your body supported by his arms around your waist. He held you as if you were as light as a feather. He nuzzled into your hair, letting out a content sigh. The air felt so light, so carefree. The remnants of your worries disappeared into the air, replaced by pure joy and unbridled affection.

“So… What’s the plan? Are you done with the day?”

“I’m going back to work. They need me,” he replied. With a jovial tone, he continued. “But I’ll be back for dinner.”

“You mean it this time?” You pulled away, searching into his eyes for honesty. You were still prone to worrying. His vigilante lifestyle was full of unpredictable moments, so it consistently kept you on your toes, leaving you unaware of what to expect. You were desperate for his words to be true. You felt as though you’ve been away from him for way too long. You craved his presence, his warmth—you craved him.

He gave you a boyish smile. “Yeah. I do.”

And that was a promise.

#.02 #.recs #.reviews

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blissfullylankartz · 2 days ago

Note

the oddworld fandom don’t really want to interact with you because you don’t care about oddworld. compared to other fandoms we’re tiny and the games don’t get enough love anyway so it feels borderline disrespectful. if it’s not your thing why are you even making ocs for it?

I literally made a post saying not to pull this shit, I said I would be taking anon asks as long as people were kind. Yet once again I'm being met with being pushed out of a community I was wanting to get to know about. Being told I don't care when I'm literally still new and learning things. So people apparently can only partake in a community if they only know every little detail about it?

Look if you have an issue with me I'd rather you not be hiding behind anon, it feels incredibly uncomfortable and disrespectful that you would cross a boundary I set in place. The anon asks was to allow people to send asks comfortably, but you keep ruining it for everyone with me needing to turn them off because you don't have the balls to come out and say stuff without hiding behind anon. You make me believe the community is unkind and unwelcoming, when I don't want to believe that because some of the people I have interacted with have been wonderful.

You don't get to dictate what I take interest in and how I enjoy those things. So just leave me alone or at least stop hiding behind anon, it isn't fair on anyone else that you keep doing this. I won't be switching anon off because I put it on to allow people to be comfortable. I didn't put it on to allow you to feel comfortable being unwelcoming, if your going to stand up for what you love then stop hiding. Or are you afraid that if people knew who was doing it that they wouldn't like you as much anymore, since it's a small community alot of people seem to know each other. I doubt it would be fun to find out that someone was going out of Thier way to shun people from a community they apparently care about.

If you love something wouldn't you rather want to share it and talk about it, not being hateful and pushing people away from it.

I'm tired of this, this was a shitty thing to just wake up to.

Edit: anon has apologised for their behaviour however decided not to post a response to that because I don't want to give them more attention than necessary. This will be the last thing I'll be adding to this situation. I've blocked them from being able to send anon asks anymore, this is because they broke a couple of boundaries and have done things that I'm really not comfortable with. Also just didn't enjoy the vibes being brought to the table. Just hope a lesson has been learnt here.

Thank you for all the kindness that everyone has shown to me, I was a little surprised by the amount of responses, but I'm glad the community seems to take these things seriously. Don't worry I'm not going anywhere and my asks are still open and yous are free to send asks as anons. Just be kind and respectful<3 eventually I may make a post with all the ocs on it that are available for asks once I've brushed up more on lore. I look forward to doing more with yous <3

#mod post #mod #oddworld #oddworld fandom #oddworld oc #oddworld mudokon #oddworld ocs #mudokon #oddtumblr

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germesthegenie · 1 day ago

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Actually had most of this done for a while but wanted to wait until I finished Arc 7 and had time to type out all of my thoughts, which can be found below

Settling into a rhythm of doing 2 arcs per one of these post

Arc 6

Nice to see the Undersiders in action again + Vista

Will say Victoria’s fights, while still good and interesting in things like Aura and the careful use of the Wretch, doesn’t have the same variety and fun stuff as Skitter. I do get that it’s kind of on the opposite end of the spectrum from Taylor’s “How do I use my ‘weak’ power (her words not mine) to take down this stronger foe?”, instead being more of a World of Cardboard situation with less control / mental stability. Tradeoffs I suppose, there will probably be some stuff to help it shine in its own right (Victoria’s internal monologue after accidentally hitting someone too hard with the Wretch in 6.4 was good)

That said, the rest of the team has a lot of fun stuff going on with how they can use their powers. Kenzie even got to drone strike Mama Mathers, which is perhaps the funniest way for that fight to be resolved

The fight with Cradle and Operator Red was neat. I mean, not for Rain, but at least that meant we got to see Scapegoat again- oh hes Fallen? Huh.

I like Chicken Little, even with just the bit we see. Lets hope third times the charm, Lisa.

Super Magic Dream Parade is… certainly something. Might go into the “niche characters to draw” pile

I like the subversion of what they thought was gonna be them destroying the portals and instead expanding them. The separation of humanity to different Earths felt like more of a backdrop/flavor so far, hoping this means we get to see more of the variance between the worlds

Arc 7

What felt like 3 arcs in a trenchcoat, this one took a long while to get through (partially because of school starting up again midway through)

I like the little mini trials as a sort of epilogue to the past 2 arcs in what is for the most part a transition period before I assume is the next big event with the group behind the portal attacks. Nice little moments for Rain.

Yamada’s missing after the portal incident? Damn that sucks hope they can mamage without her- RILEYS MISSING TOO WE GOTTA GET THEM BACK

Jokes and blorbos aside, those two being missing are pretty bad for a lot of reasons, both within and outside Breakthrough

Victoria’s meeting with the other therapist was rough, though for understandable reasons. Never really thought of the implications before on her being potentially Ship of Theseus’d from stray cats

Victoria getting to see a bit more of the ugliness going on in Breakthrough, starting with Chris lashing out. Completely reasonable for him to, but damn went right for the gut with the Amy mentions

Speaking of things tied to Amy, hi Marquis! I just drew you! I can’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or he just did the equivalent of accidentally hitting every negative dialogue option but damn

A lot of buildup towards what I can only assume to be Teacher’s Cauldron making a play, especially with the Nieves interlude. Not sure what his goal could be supporting an anti-parahuman movement, other than ig weakening his main enemies in Citrine and Tattletale.

Eclipse

As someone whose first experience with Worm was making a character who was a former Boston Ward, I was excited for an arc that was at least in part all about Boston

Ashley’s trigger is tragic. I had a feeling any trigger involving pure destructive power like that was either bad leading up to the event or in the direct aftermath, and that was both.

Interesting to see how many different players there were in the Boston Games, as well as the more familiar faces like Accord and Blasto. I liked the bits of their dynamic and personality in Worm, and was glad to see more of that and how their rivalry started here.

Look. I still hate Carol. But I can’t lie, some of her lines during New Wave’s fight with Damsel were kinda cool. Now just keep that kinda cold energy for villains and not, y’know, your daughters.

Poor original Damsel, fought like hell against heroes, villains, and her own powers half the time, and didn’t even get a seat at the table. Not to mentioned played from the start by J. Maybe. Never did get confirmation he was actually a spy iirc.

Oh hi Jack! And yay Riley! Nice little tie in back into the Worm timeline. Well, nice for us, horrific for Ashley. Again, poor original Damsel.

Also intro to the other Ashley clone, neat! Also interesting stuff at the end with the mystery memory.

Kenzie Interlude (bc this also deserves a whole section)

irl was doing some labwork and decided to put this behemoth of an interlude on the audiobook to listen to in the background and that was a wild experience

The dinner was just painful to listen to. The way the parents were more focused on themselves or how things looked vs their daughter literally bleeding… like I wanna say it bordered on over the top but like with the bullying in Worm this kind of stuff and worse does happen. Glad she got out of that… right?

The little callback to Victoria doing the whole crisis point thing in Arc 2 was nice, though

Everything was going so well with the foster parents and then… that. Honestly didn’t fully get it at first until reading the comments on the website and… yeah. It’s not her fault, she was 8, she was traumatized and afraid of being separated from them and then the poorly worded search. Keith could’ve handled things better but it was also traumatizing on his end. Just an awful situation overall.

How does it keep getting worse

I’m gonna be real I went into this thinking the parents were gonna be robots or holograms with AI like she had in Glow Worm and it was gonna be sad as like a pretend of what should’ve been but… no I could not have predicted any of what was actually going on whatsoever.

Gonna need to remember to not draw Kenzie smiling if shes meant to be happy damn

#wardblr #parahumans #wildbow #fanart #worlds slowest ward liveblog #victoria dallon #antares #ashley stillons #damsel of distress #swansong #ward spoilers #worm spoilers

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girl-lostconnection · 3 days ago

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This post was probably a little overdue but here it is now.

Guys, I’m happy to see people that are excited to see my work. I’m always glad to geek out with you over these things because that’s one of the reasons why I made this blog in the first place and I really appreciate all the support I receive from you — it is much more than I could have ever expected.

What I’m not elated to see is the increased “I followed you for *insert specific AU*” and “when will you write more about *insert specific AU* i followed for it” in my inbox/askbox. First of all, I truly do not understand the point of coming out to say that you followed someone for one specific thing and then getting upset it’s not the main priority of the blog or not the main centrepiece.

I have been having some issues with Fruit bat AU for a little while now. While it was fun to write something this soft and funny and see how much people enjoyed the little jokes and animal facts that got woven in there, the continuous demand for more and more and more and more but in different font is overwhelming.

Also important notice: unless we talked about it and I specifically said that it’s okay, I’d appreciate my work NOT being rewritten and their endings changed just because you did not enjoy the original.

This is fanfiction, not an original piece of media. You don’t like mine? I hope you will find the one that works for you from a different creator.

But let’s respect my work and your time. Don’t do stuff like that, it does feel unpleasant.

And maybe I should have announced it specifically when I started writing in the first place but I write things I like reading AND writing myself. I’m my main Reader, I’m my most important audience.

I love sharing my work on here but it does not mean that I OWE to anyone what, how and when I write things.

I do not appreciate being treated like market and not a writer. I do not enjoy influx of demands, I do not like being someone to place pressure and disappointment on because I did not fulfil an expectation I didn’t know was there.

As of right now the requests are officially closed for an indefinite period of time. I will open them back when I will be emotionally and mentally ready to give more.

Clarification: I do like receiving requests from you, guys. I like being able to share and to write out something that before that only existed as a thought or a dream or an idea — it’s incredibly satisfying to see people be happy at the sight of my work and know that yeah, I did that.

What I do not like is pressure of expectations I never placed on myself.

I will write things not all of you may like and that’s okay. I will update things you did not want or did not wait for and that’s also okay. I like them, so I wrote them. I was interested in them so I wrote more.

I enjoy being part of this community tremendously but guys, you are in my sandbox.

This is my playground first and foremost. And as much as i like to share it — that’s what I do. I share.

You don’t own it or my time or my writing.

Let’s treat each other a little nicer. Because next time the continuous pressure may backfire severely.

And it may not only not get you the thing you want, but cause me to start reject said specific work.

As the result it not only will never be updated — I may consider removing it all together.

#lostconnection.post

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gardenwalrus · 2 days ago

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The Beatles speaking about themselves in DISC (12 October 1963) [Paul & John section here]

[GEORGE] Our dress style has changed… It was when I was relaxing in a Boeing jet on the way back from America last week that I realised that in many ways I was still the same George Harrison I was before The Beatles were so well known. But I also realise that in some ways my life HAS changed - mostly for the better I’m glad to say. The most obvious change is financial. That’s very nice, but I don’t think it's the most important thing. It’s nice to be able to buy a new car and new clothes when you want them, but I was happy when I couldn’t afford these things. One big way The Beatles generally have changed is in their style of dress. Eighteen months ago, for instance, we dressed far more casually than we do now.

I think my social life has changed considerably as well. Now we meet far more people than we ever met before. I mean, like, when we appear at a one-night stand we’re often invited back after the show to a nearby club. People seem to go out of their way to try and make sure we have a little fun after our work. A question I’ve been asked quite a few times over the past 12 months is: “What do you think is the right age to get married?” I honestly think there’s no such thing as ‘the right age.’ I think that you should get married when you decide that this is the time when you should get married. This is a decision which you can only make yourself. There’s no correct age. In my personal tastes, I’m a bit undecided about clothes, too. I haven’t got any definite preferences. But if something I see pleases me I’ll buy it and wear it whether it’s in the French style, or Italian, or English. One thing I really do get enthusiastic about is music. As I’ve said before in DISC, I like the coloured American groups like The Shirelles and The Miracles. But I’m fond of a lot of other music - Segovia on classical guitar, for example.

[RINGO] I’m the silent type… I’m the one the boys call the silent type. Well, I haven’t got all that much to say for myself, and I prefer to listen to other people speaking. My real name is Richard Starkey, but the Ringo bit has been with me for so long, I don’t think of myself as a ‘Richard’ anymore. Of all the Beatles, I live nearest to the city centre - about 10 minutes walk and six bus stops away. It’s not a rich part of town, but my mum has all her friends there and doesn’t want to move out. Some of my family are just outside London. They sometimes come and visit us, and once a year my dad makes a trek down south. I want to do things for my family, but they keep telling me to save my money. Eventually I think I’ll open a chain of hairdressing shops in and around Liverpool. I’d like my main shop to be in the centre of the city, and be THE place. I have enough hairdressing friends to keep the shops well staffed, but feel with a haircut like mine it would be best for me to stay away from them! I have my hair cut about once every three months! I’m joking of course. I have it trimmed when the mood takes me and have no special barber. You don’t hear very much about me in the group, because I don’t sing. I had my big and only singing moment on ‘Boys’ for our LP, and really made the most of it. And, surprisingly enough, although I’m a drummer I don’t have a favourite musician. Well, not a real one. I like to see good showmanship in any artist, and I hope to get a chance of seeing Brook Benton while he’s in England. It’s a stroke of luck he’ll be doing the Palladium show at the same time as us, but I’ll probably be so nervous, I won’t have time to appreciate his act. I don’t eat very much. If I did, I’d probably have much more energy. As a kid, I was very fond of chips and jam-butty (that’s a jam sandwich), and to this day, I still like it. Even if I enjoyed it, I don’t think I’d ever get used to eating caviar or drinking champagne. One of my ambitions in life is to learn how to play the piano. I’d willingly take lessons if only I had the time. But my main ambition is to be happy all the time. Yet I don’t relax very much. I like to be active. Even if I have a chance to go on holiday, instead of sitting in the sun all day I’m off exploring the local neighbourhood. I think I do this because if I didn’t I’d be nothing more than just plain lazy! I very rarely go near a Chinese or Italian restaurant. Don’t like either food, and if anything has onions in it then I’m completely done for. I’m mad for rings. I wear four, and would wear them on all my fingers if I didn’t think they’d get in the way. Often I get wrist ache from drumming too much, but the only other ailment I suffer from is occasional colds. I’m not as bad as John though. He keeps on losing his voice. Never doing a performance, but usually just after a recording session.

#i get he has stomach(?) issues but i don't think i could ever do ringo's diet i just enjoy diff types of food too much #like last month didn't he come out and say he's never had pizza #or something like that #paper archives #george harrison #ringo starr

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themoonlitquill · 12 hours ago

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Whispers Woven in Shadow. (6/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨��𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; HI. I meant to post this yesterday (like I did last week don’t hate me pls) but I didn’t like where I originally ended it so I revised and ta-daaa! 🪄 This one was a very fun one to write! It was going one direction and then ended up somewhere else, which I LOVED. And I hope you do too! 🩵 Alsooooo, the next chapter is already in the works and let’s just say I am STOKED for it. 🤩 Hehe. ENJOY!!

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲??? 𝗢𝗺𝗴 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗹𝗲???

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 3553.

“The key to being a Daemati is discretion,” Rhysand stood in front of Ariadne, only a few feet away, with a rather serious expression in place. It was clear that what he was about to teach was important, no nonsense to be found, and she found herself thoroughly engaged. “Once you find your in, the last thing you want is to be discovered. It could be catastrophic otherwise, especially since you’re new at it.”

Her hands were clasped together behind her back, lips pursed. “That makes sense, but wouldn’t they be able to feel me enter somehow?”

“Not necessarily,” he picks a piece of lint off his sleeve. “When you’re in complete control and know what you’re doing, there’s nothing to be felt. Although,” the violet of his eyes were gleaming. “It also depends on if they’ve been trained against Daemati powers and if they have… it can be more complicated.”

“So there is a chance that I could be found out?” Ariadne frowns. “What do I have to do to prevent that?”

The High Lord smirks. “I’m so glad that you asked, littlest Archeron. That’s exactly what we’re going to work on today.”

“I have a name, you know,” her eyes were now narrowed into slits, annoyance set into the hard line of her mouth. “Use it.”

“You’re a sassy one, aren’t you?” Rhys chuckles under his breath. “Reminds me of Feyre.”

She swallows dryly, a pang hitting her chest. “I don’t want to talk about my sister with you.”

His shoulders lifted slightly and she had a feeling he had sighed, more than likely frustrated by the way she had shot him down. Not my problem. I don’t trust him. I don’t know if I trust any of them.

Ariadne takes a breath, the pain receding to a dull ache, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the pointed tip more prominent now. She didn’t know if she would ever get used to them. “Where do we start?”

The smirk diminishes as he straightens and it amazed her at how quickly he was able to switch from one emotion to another. It was almost too easy for him, which was a conundrum in itself. “Close your eyes.”

She hesitates for a moment, unsure, but obeys nonetheless.

“Now,” his tone is softer, more coaxing, like cool water flowing down a stream. “Picture a door. It can be any color, any shape, any size. Just be sure to put all of your focus on it.”

Slowly, Ariadne begins to conjure up what he had asked, allowing her subconscious to make the decisions for her; polished wood - ebony? - that was slightly worn with age, large enough for a grown person to fit through, and its handle curved into the shape of a crescent moon. She doesn’t know why, only that it felt right.

“Good,” Rhys hums approvingly. Could he see it too? It wouldn’t surprise her if he did. “The door isn’t yours, remember that, it belongs to someone else. Think of the mind as a house, full of locked rooms that hold a plethora of secrets.”

She gives a subtle nod, finding herself grateful for the way he was explaining things. Magic was a completely foreign concept to her and having powers, even more so. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be able to figure it out if he approached it differently, but she’d rather it be done this way. Much easier.

A strange sensation brushed against the door then. It reminded her of nails scratching, not entirely unpleasant, though not comfortable either. There was an awareness that came with it, some sort of pressure, and she couldn’t help wondering exactly what it was.

“Do you feel that?” She nods again. “That’s me. I’m allowing you to sense that I’m trying to get in,” there’s a shift in the air and all of a sudden it disappears. “And now you can’t feel me anymore, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The goal isn’t to use brute strength, even though there will come a time when that’s necessary,” he pauses. “But for now, it’s about slipping through the cracks. There’s always a way in, Ariadne. Even if you don’t see it at first. Some houses leave windows left open, while others have weak locks. Sometimes there’s too many doors, which leads to things left unnoticed. Don’t force it. Follow your instincts and feel for the gaps.”

Ariadne exhales, finding her center where she stood and reaching out tentatively; it felt like her own opalescent barriers, though this time, it was extending towards the door she had created, moving along the outer edges in search of a way in.

Her brow draws together, coming up empty handed and leading to her releasing a frustrated huff. “I don’t- Wait!”

The shimmery mist gathers along the bottom left corner, probing at the wood and that’s when she feels it. A small hairline fracture, barely there, but it was possible, and that was all she needed. “I found it,” her tone was hushed, full of awe. Truthfully, she hadn’t put much stock into this and now she was a believer.

Rhys smiles. “Try to get through without me feeling you. I’ll wait.”

She takes a breath and holds it before pushing forward, allowing herself to slip into the crack, trying to be mindful of how much pressure she was putting behind it and there’s a whisper in the back of her thoughts, reminding her to be stealthy, as fleeting as a shadow. Her nails dig into the skin of her palms, teeth clenched, and she focuses on thinning out, bleeding through to the other side inch by inch.

“There you go. That’s it,” he encourages, watching her with a keen gaze that holds something akin to amazement, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her tenacity. “I can feel you, but just barely. If you keep practicing, I won’t be able to at all, which is saying something.”

Ariadne finally opens her eyes and she feels… accomplished. It wasn’t anything major - yet - and she still had work to do - a lot - and despite that, she had done it. There was progress made and she couldn’t help in feeling more determined than ever. This bit of success had served to further prove that she could do this, that she wasn’t going to be stuck, and she relished in it.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

As it turned out, Rhysand was a pretty good teacher. He was patient and explained things well, gave her praise when she earned it and corrected her when she made a mistake, though it wasn’t harsh, more on the constructive side than belittling her like she had expected. It was… nice, and she had learned enough to begin practicing on her own before they would eventually move to the next lesson.

There was no way she was ready for the whole ‘shattering minds’ aspect of it, but maybe Azriel had been right. It would be smart for her to at least know how to do it. Just in case.

And speaking of the elusive Shadowsinger…

Ariadne tilts her head, honey brown eyes roaming over bronze skin and swirls of black ink that adorned his upper arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. How many does he have? She wanted to ask and managed not to, especially after how he had reacted yesterday. Why did he leave like that? He owes an explanation. It was rude. If he doesn’t want to be around me, he should be an adult and say that. Are all Illyrians complete dicks?

She huffs and strides into the kitchen with purpose, dead set on confronting him and giving him a piece of her mind when he looks up, gold seeming to brighten, and causes her to falter, suddenly feeling warm all over.

“Hi.”

Azriel raises a single brow and she notes that he had stiffened, shoulders tense and shadows flitting about almost anxiously. “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

He balks. “My day?”

An uncharacteristic snort emits from her. “Yes, your day. It’s called having a conversation. You should try it. Unless you plan on leaving again without a reason why?”

Guilt flashes across his face and she places her hands on her hips expectantly. “I’m sorry.”

She softens. A little. “You shouldn’t have done it. If I do something to offend you, I’d much rather you tell me than running off and making me wonder what the hell it was I did. I’m a big girl, Azriel. I can handle the truth.”

He observes her silently for a moment. “I know you can.”

“Don’t do it again. Please,” she adds. “I want to be your friend and you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

“Friends,” his jaw clenches and her head tilts curiously. Did he not want that? “Okay then. My day was… alright.”

Maybe he did. “Just alright? What did you do?”

“Trained with Cass.”

“What kind of training?”

“Hand to hand mostly,” he relaxes, slightly, some of the tension lifting. “Some flight maneuvers here and there.”

Ariadne perks up at that and leans against the counter, glancing at his wings briefly. “Did you ask him to race?”

“It may have come up.”

“And?”

“He agreed.”

“Oh, how exciting! When can we do it?”

“Whenever you want,” Azriel’s gaze intensifies and she feels heat creep up her neck. Why was he looking at her like that? “As the unbiased judge, we thought it only fair for you to be the one to choose.”

She hums. “Well, in that case, how about the end of the week? It’s only a few days away and it’ll give me time to write out a scorecard.”

“A scorecard?”

“Yes. It can’t just be based on how fast you are. That wouldn’t be as fun.”

He seems to think it over, lips twitching. “What are the other categories other than speed?”

“I can’t tell you that. Cassian isn’t going to get an advantage, why should you?” Ariadne raises an inquisitive brow, engaging in a silent challenge. “What’s fair is fair.”

“I don’t even get a hint?”

“No,” she releases an exaggerated sigh. “I’m afraid your skill will have to speak for itself.”

Azriel’s shoulders shake as his mouth curves up into a smile, the smallest hint of a dimple appearing and she finds herself fascinated by it, gaze zeroing in as her body leans over the counter. She wanted to see if he had another on the other side, but it was gone before she could ask.

She chews on the inside of her lower lip, suddenly finding herself at a loss for words; it seemed that happened a lot when she was around the Shadowsinger and she didn’t know why. It was like she had a million different things to say and couldn’t figure out how to string them in the right order to keep the conversation going.

It also didn’t help that she held a fear of him leaving again because she did something wrong that she was unaware of.

How was she supposed to navigate this?

Her mouth opens and then closes, brow furrowing, and she could see the shadows swirling about languidly, some slithering towards her and she wanted to touch them, wanted to touch him.

Wait, what? Ariadne shakes her head and resumes her incessant biting. Don’t do that. If you’ve learned anything, it’s that he’s an obvious flight risk.

Azriel watches silently and she had this weird feeling that he knew what she was thinking somehow. “They like you.”

She blinks. “Who?”

The shadows move closer and his head inclines slightly. “Them.”

Where had that come from? Their conversation in the library replays in her mind. He had pulled them away from her like it - she - was some sort of issue and now he was finally acknowledging it? It made no sense. Like everything else around here, she sighs.

“Maybe I’m better company than you are.”

His eyes widen a fraction and a low rumble reverberates in the back of her skull, warm and all-consuming. It sent tingles down the length of her spine and there was no doubt that it was a laugh. She was certain. Azriel was laughing. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Cassian was massive.

She had met him before and yet, she didn’t remember him being this big. It was sort of… intimidating. He looked like he could throw her through a wall and not even break a sweat. Her lips curve slightly at that. It was certainly entertaining to think about.

He stood next to Azriel and there was a shit-eating grin on his face, which only seemed to annoy the Shadowsinger and it was obvious that she was missing something.

But what?

Ariadne observes Cassian with interest, wondering how different he was from the others. He had to be a force or else he wouldn’t be the… What was his title? Lord of… Something, she tilts her head with a curious expression. Lord of Illyrians? What in the name of the stupid Cauldron was it?

She flicks her gaze to Azriel, silent questions in honey brown, and he elbows Cassian, chin dipping towards her and she wished more than anything that she knew them well enough to know exactly what they were saying without saying it.

“So, you can’t hear at all?”

A dark shadow passes over Azriel’s face that she chooses to ignore, mostly, and she shakes her head. “Not in the traditional sense. I mostly go by touch and sight.”

“That’s gotta be a pain in the ass.”

Ariadne fights a smile. Oh, I like him, she steps forward, eyes roaming leisurely. “Believe it or not, you get used to it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Cassian looks down at her with amusement. “You’re really tiny.”

She scoffs, hands moving to rest on her hips. “You don’t miss much,” her neck tilts back in time with her perusal. “Which is surprising considering I didn’t think you’d be able to see from all the way up there.”

He barks out a laugh. “You’ve got my vote.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Azriel rolls his eyes, arms moving to cross over his chest. “Ignore him. I do.”

“It’s impossible to ignore me,” Cassian interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s cranky and needs a nap.”

Ariadne nearly laughed at that and it was a bit of a surprise at how comfortable she was with him already. Rhysand, she was still wary of, and Azriel… well, she wasn’t quite sure what she felt where he was concerned, but Cassian? He was a breath of fresh air and she liked that he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. She thought they might end up being fast friends, which she was in no position to say no to.

“Or maybe you just get on his nerves.”

His grin widens - if that was even possible - and catches the small chuckle from Azriel, the rare sound a surprise and he found himself stunned for a moment; his brother could deny it as much as he wanted, but it was evident that there was something there and it pained him that he couldn’t speak on it, not unless he wished to come to blows and the last time that happened, it hadn’t ended well.

“She has a point,” the Shadowsinger gives Cassian a knowing look, who huffs in return. “I’ve never heard any complaints,” he focuses back on the youngest Archeron. “I could never. He loves me too much.”

Her eyes rolled, though there was no malice, only a subtle fondness that softened her features. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you,” a small hum emits from her throat. “Have either of you decided what you want the prize to be if you win the race?”

“I’ve been waiting for this!” Cassian claps his hands together, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Oh, right,” he smiles sheepishly at Ariadne. “Sorry, this’ll take some getting used to. Anyway,” he perks back up. “I’ve been thinking that since you’ve shown so much interest in flying… That the winner gets to take you for the first time.”

Azriel tenses and so do his shadows. “Absolutely not.”

He ignores him, practically giddy, and continues on without missing a beat. “Az told me about this scorecard you’re making and since you’re the one judging, it makes sense for the winner to be the one to do it. You know,” Cassian’s grin returns. “Safety and all.”

“I said no,” Azriel bites out, jaw hard. Was he out of his mind?

“I like that idea,” Ariadne had noted the Spymaster’s reaction and it was the ten-thousandth thing that she added to the ‘makes no sense’ pile. “But instead of just going for a flight, why not make it more interesting?” There’s a brief silence and she took that as her sign that they were agreeing with her. “I want to go down to the city and explore. I’m sick of being in this house, no offense,” she glances up at the ceiling before returning to the two Illyrians. “I need to get out and the winner gets to be my escort slash tour guide.”

“Excellent!” Cassian pats Azriel on the shoulder. “I bet you’ll make sure you win now,” he winks playfully at the little Fae. “You’ve got yourself a deal!”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

You are excited.

Ariadne looks down at the shadow encircled around her wrist, eyes brightening. Hi! Long time, no see! Wait, how can you tell I’m excited?

You wear your emotions plainly, it tightens its grip in a quick squeeze. It is easy to tell.

I never really noticed, she gives a half-shrug. But you’re right, I have something to look forward to at the end of the week. I get to fly to the city!

Velaris.

Yes, Velaris, her eyes move to the open archway across the room. I’ll be out of this house for the first time since that damn Cauldron and be around other people and check the shops and see that pretty river and be normal.

It was all she wanted; to have the opportunity to venture out and be a part of something instead of locked away in a hypothetical tower - that was actually a magic house - away from curious glances and speculation. Though, she found she didn’t care what the reaction would be to her, only that she was finally going to be free, even if it was just for a little while.

Who are you going with?

She blinked down at the shadow, watching it shimmer as it flowed around her wrist. They really were beautiful. Oh, I don’t know yet. I’ll find out at the end of the race in a couple days.

It is your decision who wins, is it not?

Yeah, it is, Ariadne hums and ghosts her fingertips over the sleek obsidian. Why was it so important? Why had Azriel said no? She had caught that - despite her lack of skill in that department - and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. I want it to be fair, though. That’s why I made the scorecards. I split it into different categories.

You made a scorecard?

She huffs, not liking the fact that it felt like it was laughing at her. What was the big damn deal? It was the perfect way to judge!

Yes, that way I can take into account a few other things needed to win a race other than speed.

Such as?

Agility, form, and endurance, she raises a single brow, daring the shadow to tease her again. It doesn’t just take being the fastest. What about the air currents? The way they extend their wings and how far? What if something gets in their way and they have to go around it?

Like what?

What kind of a question was that? Ariadne throws her hand up, a second huff emitting from her lips, though more exasperated this time. I don’t know! A tree?

A tree in the middle of the sky?

Are you serious right now? I don’t know how high they’ll be flying!

It would have to be a very tall tree, the breathy whisper was lighter and she realized then that it was laughing at her. What a beastly little thing! She wanted to flick it.

I’m not talking to you anymore if you’re going to keep making fun of my scorecard!

Me? Making fun? Never.

She releases a frustrated sound and flicks it, eyes narrowed. Be nice!

Says the one who just wounded me.

Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re fine, she rolls her eyes, but carefully rubs a small circle with her thumb, slow and soothing. I thought it was a good idea. There isn’t much to do around here, so I figured I’d go all in.

The shadow wraps around her forearm and squeezes, the temperature cool against her skin. It is. Your mind is fascinating and I enjoy seeing how you respond to things.

So that’s what that was? Ariadne purses her lips, watching as it moves further up until it’s on her shoulder and twirling through her hair. It seemed to like it there the best. What a weird way to go about it.

Not weird at all, little moon. You will soon see.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ; @ashblooddragons , @rcarbo1 , @waytoomanyteenagefeels , @prettylittlewrites , @tele86 , @missxmarvelous , @herondale-lightworm , @kabekusa , @fr0stf4ll .

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