#fanfiction shower thoughts

[redhotchilipepper1]

Serafina and Willa would be best friends if they actually interacted. Like, I know Willa saw Serafina in Willa of the Wood, and Serafina saw Willa, but imagine if they actually interacted?? Like, I can just see them becoming best friends.

[vampiefemme]

modern!vi who’s down horrendous for you. she gets home from the gym, sweat-damp and sore, ready for a much-needed shower after hitting a new pr and kicking her own ass during her workout. she’s undressing in the foggy bathroom when her phone pings from the counter, your name lighting up the screen. she tosses her shirt to the side and unlocks the phone to see your message.

missing you sooo bad right now, you’ve texted her. attached is a photo of you, shirtless, with your perfectly manicured nails delicately cupping your tits. might have to touch myself… help me out?

vi scoffs at your message, but she clicks on that photo again, zooms in and analyzes it until she’s sure she’s memorized every individual pixel.

fuck, you’re perfect. fuck fuck fuck.

steam from the shower has fogged up the mirror entirely, and it’s deathly humid in the bathroom. but vi’s got a soft spot for you - she’d do anything you asked her to, even if your version of asking is merely suggesting… no, bribing. that photo was definitely a bribe.

vi messes around with a few potential angles, propping her phone up on the counter, then on the floor, even on the back of the toilet. nothing looks right, and she’s so sweaty and frustrated that she almost decides not to send you anything at all. she rips open the shower curtain, huffing an annoyed sigh before her eyes land on the shower head.

huh, that’s an idea.

fifteen minutes later, as you’re lazily dragging your fingers through your cunt, horny and annoyed that vi hasn’t texted you back, you get a notification. it’s a video, you realize with a giddy whir of excitement, and you click play without a second thought. one hand cradling your phone, the other between your thighs, you watch as vi settles the camera down on a shelf by the window. her scarlet locks are damp with sweat, droplets of water from the shower rolling down her inked skin. fuck, you’ll never get used to that body - she’s all lean muscles and sharp edges, so dangerous until she’s holding you with those calloused hands and curling her frame up against yours.

and now? she’s biting her lip, trying to make a show of trailing a hand down her abdomen - she stops short, though, reaching off to the side instead. her hand returns with the running shower head, and you draw in a sharp, excited breath. as if she could hear you, vi lets out a little chuckle and says, “i know, unexpected. i haven’t done this in years.”

she fiddles with the shower head, flicking a switch at the neck until the water flow changes to a more… optimal setting. the stream’s a lot more focused now, more intense.

“worked myself up a bit before this. hope that’s okay, princess.” vi flashes a smirk at the camera, but with her cheeks painted that pretty pink shade, you know she’s a little embarrassed. uncertain.

you’re grateful that the camera angle lets you see every detail of what vi’s doing - how her body moves. she hitches a leg up against the shower wall, just high enough to spread herself open. the soft curls between her legs are untamed and wet, and your cunt twitches at the sight of vi’s pink, pink cunt, spread beautifully - you only get one glance, though, before the silver shower head blocks your view. vi hisses through her teeth and her hips twitch. you sigh, your fingers playing in the wetness between your legs as you watch vi toss her head back in pleasure. every moan that passes her lips goes straight to your clit - you’re needy, gushing wetter every time you see vi’s tits bounce or her jaw clench.

“fuuuuck,” she cries out, her face a vision of pleasure. mouth hung open, brows knitted together, eyes foggy with lust. “gonna come, shit, baby…”

water drips from vi’s hair down to her shoulders, rolling in beads down her tense chest. she’s heaving, panting, gasping your name as her orgasm slams into her, tatted biceps flexing as she forces the shower head to stay in place. her orgasm seems to last forever, streams of water gushing from her pussy down to the shower floor - and then she’s done, spent.

it’s almost like vi forgets about the camera for a moment. she hums in pleasure, still panting a bit as she comes back down from her high. she licks her lips, then her eyes meet the camera - and oh, she looks wrecked.

“hope that’s enough material for you, pretty girl,” she says to the camera, winking playfully before the video cuts out.

[tlou-reid]

!smut, mdni!

thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.

and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.

so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.

and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case

that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.

time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.

“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.

“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.

he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”

he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.

her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”

her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.

his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.

this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.

her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.

and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.

he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.

[wildsaltair]

Security

Pairing: Maximus Decimus Meridius x reader

Rating: T (fluff, with a tiny hint of hurt/comfort)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tag List: @enjisbf, @nasatshirts, @empressenchanted, @streets-in-paradise, @xiscamoony, @aelondrias

Author’s Note: Very short little fic that I wrote sort of as a follow-up to Nightmare, but it works as a standalone one-shot too. As always, it's written with the fullest measure of my love, and it's representing all the longing y'all get to witness every day on this melodramatic blog. I love Maximus, and I hope this little fic does him justice :) Thank you for reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Your love is asleep beside you, breathing deep and slow against your neck. After yet another day of backbreaking work in the harvest, he’s exhausted, and all he had the strength to do was pull off his tunic and fall into bed beside you.

You are just as tired, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep just yet. You’re too transfixed by him.

In sleep, his face is so peaceful, so free from the worry lines and the intensity he wears through the day. In sleep, his face is relaxed and soft, surrendered to the safety he feels in your bed.

You smile knowing that sharing your bed is his first experience with sleeping so peacefully. He came to you wounded and hunted, having barely escaped an assassination attempt and with nowhere else to go. Though your first few months were fraught with distress and fear, you have both settled into your home with the knowledge that you are safe from the outside world, that his past has been laid to rest and left behind. He still carries his burdens, but they are easier to bear when he can release them at night.

You let your eyes trace over his features now, amazed as always at the sweetness and beauty of the man who holds your heart. His eyelashes flutter against the tops of his cheeks, the lines beside his eyes less furrowed.

He’s sleeping as he usually does: on his back with your head on his chest, his left arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively, his head tilted against yours. His right hand clasps yours where it rests on his waist, moving gently every time he breathes.

Tilting your head back, you smile to yourself as the sounds of his deep breathing reach your ears. The sound only reassures you that he’s sleeping well, undisturbed by anything.

You often remember his first few nights with you — how after making love, he would lie awake for some time, trying to fall asleep. He was always on guard during those days, always attuned to any sign of trouble. He slept with one eye open for months.

And quite often, you would wake to find him up, making a round through the house or in the yard, paranoid about what could be lurking outside. Many were the nights you had to coax him back to bed, assuring him that no one had come for him in the night.

And the nightmares. Those terrible nightmares that plagued him for months.

Once, he awoke in the middle of choking you, having acted out of terror in the middle of a dream. You were afraid he would never trust himself to sleep with you again, but together you worked through it. He’s had nightmares many times since, but they have grown fewer and tamer in the past few months.

That thought makes you smile as well: knowing that your presence beside him at night helps keep his nightmares at bay.

As if in response, the man turns in his sleep, rolling onto his side to face you. He’s still sound asleep, his breath rumbling in his powerful chest, but his right arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to his body.

You are all too happy to snuggle closer to him. The nights have grown colder, and his body is a never-ending source of heat for your bed. You enthusiastically burrow into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin and tangling your legs with his.

Your heart warms knowing that he reaches for you even in his sleep. Many are the nights he has whispered your name in his sleep, groped his hands to find you in the night. Somehow his heart seeks you even when he sleeps.

He pulls you even closer, his breath softening as if he is stirring a little from his sleep, but he does not awaken. Shifting his weight to press against you more fully, he rubs one broad hand up and down your back, fingers brushing your spine.

Without meaning to, you arch your back in response, pushing your body tighter against his. He lowers his chin as though he were awake, dragging his lips across your forehead before coming to rest against the top of your head.

Your smile comes again, unbidden, warm as the heat radiating off his body.

So many nights, you have lain in this very bed and ached with loneliness. How many cold nights you spent huddled under blankets, wishing for a lover to share your home and bed, to fill you with a warmth that would go beyond your body. This man fills every empty spot in your heart, thrills and soothes and pleasures you in every possible way.

And what a joy it is to know that you have done the same for him, that your love is his safety, his delight, and his peace.

With a knot of emotion rising in your throat, you tilt your head back to press the lightest of kisses against his exposed neck. He stirs slightly, his breath ghosting across your ear, and you just rest your lips against his neck to breathe in his scent.

Earth, sweat, and something else distinctly him. It’s a scent you now associate with comfort, companionship, and warmth.

You kiss him again, wanting to touch him somehow even though he’s asleep. His neck is smooth and warm under your lips, and he stirs again, this time shifting his arms closer around you. He tilts his head a bit to the side as if to give you better access.

Then he makes a sound, almost a moan, almost a sleep-muddled whisper, but you know it’s your name. It’s your name he murmurs in his sleep, when he feels your gentle brushes of affection against his skin.

You smile against his neck, resting your mouth there so he won’t awaken. He remains tensed a moment longer, so you lightly run your hands over him to soothe him back to a deep sleep.

His muscles are coiled under your touch, every inch of his body a tribute to softness and strength. His chest moves against yours slowly, and you gently rub your hands over his ribs, his sides, his hips. He finally relaxes, sighing contentedly as he drifts back into a deeper sleep.

Just before he does, though, you feel him lift his hand, stroke it down the back of your head once. His fingers tangle in your hair, and he nuzzles your face gently, brushing his smooth skin and spiky beard against your cheek.

He hums with pleasure, settles himself against your body, then buries his head in your neck and falls back to sleep.

You follow him soon after, cradling him in your arms while you listen to the steady cadence of his breath and the lovely thump of his heartbeat. You thread your fingers in his dark hair until your strength fades into sleep, just long enough to feel him relax completely in your arms.

All the lonely nights, all the sorrow, all the uncertainty — it’s all been worth it for this moment, and for all the moments that have come before and will come after.

Your love is asleep in your arms, whispering your name and holding you close to his chest, and you can both sleep in the peace and satisfaction of a love that transcends everything else.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

More of my fanfiction if you're so inclined :)

[florencemtrash]

Masterlist of Masterlists:

A collection of my writings, all in one convenient location (AKA the root of all things posted on my blog):

ACOTAR:

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird - Completed

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

The Wisp Between Worlds - on hiatus

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Flame, Shadow, Beast - Completed

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

The Artificer: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV - Azriel x Reader

Club Rats & Cigarettes: Part I - Azriel x Reader

Prim and Proper - Azriel x Reader

To Sleep at Your Back - Azriel x Reader

Bedsides and Breakfasts - Azriel x Reader

He Feels Safe With You - Azriel x Reader

Take it off - Azriel x Reader

In a Year's Time - Azriel x Reader

Let them find us here - Azriel x OC

Heads will roll - Azriel x Reader

Please remember me - Azriel x Reader

The Ballad of the Shadowsinger - Azriel x Reader

Brown Eyed Beauty - Lucien x Reader

ATSV:

Hummingbird - Completed

Summary: What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Wedding Invitations - Miguel O'Hara x Reader

[weirdo-fun]

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2! I got motivated seeing everyone liking the first chapter so I wrote chapter 2 as soon as I could. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 3.2 K (Sorry I had way to much fun with this one so it’s a long one 😅)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slight dislike for inner circle, dual POV 👀, fem! Reader, they just can’t get each other out of their heads

Author's Note: Soooo remember when I said Azriel and Reader will be interacting with one another?.... Yeah sorry that is not happening in this chapter. BUT don't be mad, Azriel is in this chapter he just hasn't "found" Reader yet. :)

Side Note: Apologies for any grammar mistakes. And yes I did listen to "What Else Can I Do" from Encanto as I wrote this.

You and Elain walk through the forest on the outskirts of Velaris, not going too deep so you guys can remember how to get back. The snaps of twigs is heard from under your boots. Your skirts perfectly covering your legs to stop tall blades of grass or sticks from scratching both of your skins. 

You take a deep breath in, smelling the crisp, tree trunk filled air, breathing in new life after being tucked away in the Town House for quite some time. The lush trees, grass, and needle-covered path reminds you of your home when you were a kid. You used to sneak off and play in the woods for hours with the other kids in the neighborhood. The nostalgic feeling puts a smile on your face. 

Elain stops walking and stares up and around her at the trees that seem to almost cover the sky above. You notice her eyes look at the scenery around with fondness. “Beats the boring walls of the Town House doesn’t it?” You ask playfully ask you walk over to her. She nods, “It certainly does.” She pauses for a moment until she looks at you. “Are you sure this is ok?” She asks with worryness in her voice. “I mean, like I know I said yes to this but now that we’re here I am worried what they will do if they find out.” You chuckle, “Hey, you can’t back out now. We are already here. Besides I did leave a note on the dining table saying we will be out and be back soon incase they do come back earlier. So they have no reason to freak out because I literally told them where we are.” You take a moment and your mind immediately goes to Azriel. “Well maybe Azriel will be a prick and throw a fit.” You roll your eyes and think of what he might say if he found out that you took Elain to the woods for a walk. 

You scowl, just thinking about how Azriel will yell at you for “taking a delicate girl with no supervision to the woods” and how “she could have gotten hurt”. It infuriates you that anything thing you do, you always think of what Azriel might say. He would always be the first to cross your mind when you would think of doing something or question yourself if you should be doing a certain thing. More than likely, you would end up doing whatever it was you were contemplating because it would rile you up just thinking about him telling you what you could and couldn’t do. Even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t the best choice, it was a choice he would disprove of and to you that is all that mattered. 

“Hey Azriel isn’t that bad.” Elain tried to say in a convincing tone to try and calm you down. You whip your head towards her with a glare in your eyes. The glare not directed at her but to who she was talking about. “Really?” You say unconvinced. “Azriel, the one who makes it his mission to scold me for almost anything for the simple fact that I don’t agree how he treats you. The same Azriel that doesn’t like me because I talk back to him when I am pretty sure he expects me to just nod my head and agree. The same person in which we can’t even sit next to each other in the same room or we start bickering about how the other one is sitting in the chair the wrong way.” Elain looks at you, at lost for words. You nod your head. “Yeah exactly. Sounds like he is a great guy.” You sarcastically say as you roll your eyes. 

Elain grabs your hand. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you guys don’t see eye to eye.” She looks at you with her doe apologetic eyes. “Let’s forget about them for now. Like you said earlier, we are already here. So let’s continue on our walk and take in the scenery.” Her soft voice calming you down almost instantly. You release a deep breath. “Annnnnnd I want to see this improvement of your power that you told me.” Elain says with excitement. “Well it’s not really improvement, more like testing out what else I can do?” You state as a question. Elain wraps her arm around your elbow and starts to pull you along the forest path. “Well then, let’s find out!” 

——————————————————

You were getting frustrated, you frown at the lavender flower that you just grow from the ground. “Another flower”, you think to yourself. You huff as you stand up, looking at the different colored flowers and plants circling you in which you unwantedly grew. You have been at this for only 15 minutes, and even though that is not a very long time it felt like an hour past for you. “Maybe you just need a break?” Elain’s voice calls you out of your negative thoughts. She sat on a rock to the side a few feet from where you decided to sit on the forest floor. You walk over to her with your head down in defeat. “I don’t understand, I was able to make a small cactus in my room that one time but now it just seems like my power went back to making just pretty things.” You huff out as you plop yourself next to Elain on the rock. “Why did the Caldron give me the power to grow things when it can only grow pretty flowers, plants, and vines?!” You annoyingly say. “Like I can’t think of a reason why I won’t be able to grow like giant trees, or moss, or poisonous plants, or even venus fly traps!” You look at the sky hoping the Mother can give you an answer. “Maybe a special condition needs to be met?” Elain says in an encouraging voice. “Like maybe, you have to be meditating, or be fulled with anger. Something like that.” You look at her questionably. “I don’t think a “special condition” needs to be met. I was able to do it once before but now it just seems like the power is blocked somehow.” You try to explain to Elain. It frustrated you not knowing how you were able to grow the cacti some time ago and now you can’t. “Well what were you doing when you grew the cactus? Maybe whatever it was triggered the cactus to grow?” You sit there thinking hard on Elain’s question. You run through the memory again to try and find an answer, a clue as to what triggered the cactus to grow. 

It was early in the afternoon, you were sitting on your window sill looking out at Velaris. You did this sometimes where you would sit and just watch the city at any point in the day. There was no particular reason why you did it, you just enjoyed not having to think about anything and just watch the world move forward. You started fiddling with some vines you grew from your hands, twisting and turning them. You then started to add small flowers buds to the vines. The small buds slowly began to bloom into small flowers of a soft blue color. As you were growing new vines and flowers into the mix, you stood up from the window sill and began to pace slowly in your room as you concentrated on making a flower crown. As you were mindlessly making the crown you started humming a song. You don’t know what song, you just started to hum a tune. As you hummed, you mindlessly were growing this intricate flower pattern of blue and purple flowers. Not realizing that the vines sprouting from the crown were growing towards the floor of your room and started to spread across the floor. You were stuck in your own little world humming a song that you didn’t notice that on the floor one of the vines started to grow vertically, and started to take a different shape. It was only then when you finished making the flower crown and you finished humming the song that you noticed the little cactus with a small blue flower on top next to your feet. Your eyes widen, you never knew you could do that. Then you looked around the room and realized that you let your power go a little bit too much. Vines and flowers spread across the floor of the bedroom and up onto the walls. You did notice that the vines and flowers looked bigger than they normally should. You marveled at what you created and wanted to know if you could do more. 

You blink as you recall the memory of that day. Now thinking back, you did realize that you were very calm and you weren’t actually trying to grow anything at all. “I was just humming a song while mindlessly making a flower crown.” You begin to say to Elain. “I-I think I wasn’t really focussing on anything to be honest. I was actually in my own world subconsciously making the crown.” Elain thinks for a moment and then says, “Maybe that what it is then. Don’t think about it too hard and be relaxed.” You look at her with almost a confused puppy look in your eyes. “Well how do I do that? I can’t just not think about what I want to grow. And before you say meditate like you said before you know damn well I am bad at that.” Elain thinks for a moment, she then smiles and stands up pulling you with her. “Well you said you were humming a song. Then lets hum a song and dance together.” She says completely serious. You look at her not believing what she is suggesting because this is a little out of character for her. “Are you serious?” You question making sure you heard her right. “100 percent.” She nods and smiles at you. “Come on, you were the one saying that I needed to start being more confident in myself and being able to voice my opinion out loud. I think dancing and singing in the middle of the forest without a care in the world will help me let go of my… “delicate nature”. Plus it will help you relax and not think too hard on your power.” You look at her and seeing the determination in her eyes tells you she is super serious about this. 

You give her the biggest smile and giggle as you grab her hand and start to spin her around. Elain laughs and she continues to dance with you with no music. She spins you around and you guys continue this unchoreographed dance with smiles, giggles, and laughs coming from both of you. To have some fun you begin to throw flower pedals in the air like confetti and they fall down around both of you, some getting caught in your guys’s hairs. As you guys dance, jump, and spin, flowers begin to grow surrounding you guys coming from you as the centerpoint. You don’t realized it at first but once you do, you feel a slight weight of power being lifted like the locked door holding your power back was slowly getting unlocked. It felt like the flowers danced with you; they didn’t feel like you were forcing them to grow. It felt like they listened to what you wanted in the moment and obeyed you. You took a hold of that feeling and continued to run with it. As you did a hand full of cacti popped up from the ground. You and Elain stopped dancing and looked at the cacti with amazement. Joyous yells came from both of you, happy that the dancing worked. Who knew having a good a time could unlock a power? 

With the new found feeling of your power and determination in your eyes you grab a hold of that closed door on your power open it. The rush of energy rushed through you and it almost seemed your sensed were heighten even more. Everything, touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. But it was a different change to your senses. It’s like you could feel the sort of life energy flowing through the grass beneath your boots; it seemed like you could hear the trees dancing as the wind blew past, to the whispered song that the flowers sung. Nature smelled, different. Like more alive. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like nature came alive and you could understand it. 

“Hey! Reader are you ok?” Elain tugs on your arm worry written on her face as she sees you starring off. You blink a couple of times, shaking off the shock of your unlocked power. You lift your hands up and in a few seconds an enlarged sapphire blue flower springs up from the ground. The massive size of the flower scares Elain and she stumbles back a few steps. After a few seconds it takes for Elain to recover, she stares at the flower and then at you. “Holy wow. You can do that?!” Elains voice laced with interest and excitement. She walks over to the massive flower, each pedal being her size, to get a better look up close. “I think I can a lot more than that.” You smile walking over to stand next to her. She turns to you intrigued, “Well then let’s see it. What else can you do?” 

——————————————————

Azriel POV 

Shadows disburse as Azriel lands on the balcony of the Town House in the late afternoon. He sighs, glad to be back in Velaris. The mission that Rhys sent him on not only took longer than it needed to take, but Rhys could have easily done it himself. But being High Lord is tiresome and requires a lot of work, so his attention was needed else were. 

Azriel steps into the Town House ready for a quick bath and a cup of tea to help the incoming headache that he knows will receive, before dinner is served. His mind on the warm bath he was thinking of taking was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, a door swinging open, and a yell. “SHE’S NOT HERE!” Nesta’s worried and panicked voice echoes throughout the manor. 

Azriel stops in his tracks for a mear moment and briskly begins to walks in the direction of Nesta’s voice. His shadows start to swarm him, feeling their master’s concern over the commotion so they try to comfort him. “Whose not here? What happened?” Azriel thinks as he makes his way through the manor. 

Azriel follows the yelling and ends up at Elain’s bedroom. Standing at the entrance to her room with the door wide open Azriel sees Nesta panicked written face and Cassian standing next to her with a comforting hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Elain?” Azriel’s voice grabs the couples attention to see him take a few steps into the room. “We can’t find Elain.” Nesta answers worriedly. “Or Reader.” Cassian adds. “We looked around the manor and neither of them are here.” Cassian states as he walks towards Azriel. “What! Are you sure you checked every room?” Azriel questions with hope laced into his voice. Before Cassian could get a word in, Azriel sent out his shadows to scour the manor for any signs of the girls. 

His shadows come back and tells him that you and Elain were gone. Azriel was about to send them back out to search throughout Velaris for you guys but one shadow whispered to him that there was a note on the dining table. Without a word to Nesta or Cassian, Azriel speed walk to the dining hall. 

He walks in and he does noticed a small folded piece of paper on the large wooden table. Azriel picks it up, unfolds it and reads it. 

“Incase you guys get back earlier than we do. Elain and I are going for a walk in the woods. We shouldn’t be too long, so don’t worry.” 

P.S. We won’t stray too far so don’t panic Azriel 

-Reader :) 

Azriel crumbles the piece of paper and stuffs it in one of his leather pockets. He can’t believe you took Elain out of the Town House when he specifically told Elain to stay inside until either him or Nesta and Cassian got back to escort her if she wished to go somewhere. He should have known that you would convince Elain to do the opposite of what he says. He should have either convinced Cassian and Nesta to take you with them or forced you to go with him on his mission so that THIS wouldn’t happen. Frustration builds inside Azriel as he makes his way back to the balcony, getting ready to fly to the forest to bring Elain back and to yell at you for clearly going against his wishes. 

“Az!” Cassian's voice is heard from behind the shadowsinger, as his heavy footsteps come closer. “Did you find them?” Azriel shakes his head. “No, but I know where they are.” Azriel takes the note from his pocket and holds it up for Cassian. “Reader thought it would a great idea to take Elain to the woods for a walk.” Sarcasm and annoyance fell from his voice. “I swear, that woman is something else.” Azriel states with irritation. “Hey, how about we focus on finding Reader and Elain and then you can decide if you want to bicker with her. Even though I think you are being too hard on her.” Cassian says as calmly as he could to try and settle Azriel down. Azriel doesn’t respond, he just glares at him. “Let’s just find them and bring the back.” Azriel says as his wings shoot him to the sky and carry him towards the forest with Cassian in tow. 

You always did this. Ever since you became friends with Elain, you always disproved of him. It frustrated Azriel to no end that you would always talk back and bicker at him. He disliked how anytime he would tell Elain to do something you would always have something to say back. Even if it didn’t regard Elain, you always wanted to say something. This wasn’t the first time you pulled a stunt like this off. There were a few times where he specifically told you not to do something and what did you do? You did the complete opposite. It’s like you like to push his buttons, get him riled up, and angry at you. He doesn’t understand why you hate so much. All he has done, or tried to do, was to protect Elain because, unlike you with your extroverted nature, she has a softer nature. And Azriel, including the rest of the inner circle, want her to be comfortable and secure after everything that she went through. The same treatment would be applied to you if you had her personally but you don’t. You have to have a very friendly, social butterfly type personality that Azriel tries to hate, but subconsciously finds it interesting, intriguing even. 

Azriel shakes his head from the thought of you. Lately his head has been filed with thoughts of you. Anything he did or said, he would always think, “what would Reader say? How would she react?” He would imagine different scenarios of you getting upset at him or throwing a sly remark his way. It perplexes Azriel that you have been taking over his mind, and it aggravated him.

That is it for chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed it! So glad I finally brought Azriel into the story. As you guys can see by the amount of words I have, I had to delay Reader's and Azriel's interaction with one another by one more chapter. Sorry! :( But man don't they hate each other so much? Gosh, just can't keep each other out of their own heads! Well anyway, that is all! If you want to be added to the taglist please leave a comment and I will add you! I hope I did the taglist correctly I have never done one before so if someone can give me advice on how to do one properly that would be great because Google did not help at all. P.S. Just to let you guys know I will gone for vacation for about a week, I can't promise you guys anything but I will try to write what I can so that when I come back I can finish it up the next chapter as soon as possible and post it for you guys. I hate that I will have to keep y'all waiting. But until then take care! :)

taglist:

@aehllitas-blog @horneybeach1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge

[mischievous-thunder]

[paperwayne]

crash.

Pairing: Spiderverse!Hobie Brown | Spider-Punk x Reader / Spiderverse!Gwen Stacy & Reader Word Count: 1,957 words Warnings: None

It is two o’clock in the morning, and you’re lying upside-down on the stony couch that’s still lopsided despite your attempts to correct it with a stack of cut-up magazines underneath the broken leg when Hobie finally comes back, grimy, sweaty, and with an equally grimy and sweaty girl in tow.

Hobie casts you a glance and raises an eyebrow, unshouldering his guitar and kicking off his shoes as you swing your legs over to sit right-side up.

“Sirens again?” he says.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

“Should be used to them by now.”

“Should be used to a totalitarian regime by now,” you say.

Hobie’s mouth curls into a smirk. He turns to the girl trailing behind him and nods. “This’s Gwen. She’s crashing here for the night.”

“Hey,” says Gwen. She gives you a small smile that screams of exhaustion. “Nice to meet you …?”

You give Gwen your name and a perfunctory once-over. It’s impossible to ignore the unusual colors of her clothes, and the softness of her face looks like it’s due to more than just her age. She almost looks like a pastel painting, and against the sharp and peeling backdrop of Hobie’s bedsit, the difference in appearance is like night and day. She’s strange. Out of place.

You grin at her as Hobie takes the air mattress out from underneath his bed and starts to inflate it.

“You eaten yet, luv?” you ask over the sound of the air pump.

She blinks. “Oh. Uh, not really. But I’m not that hungry, actually –”

On cue, her stomach growls. She blushes.

You shake your head and stand up, slinging an arm around her shoulders to guide her to the kitchen.

“Rule number two of crashing at Hobie’s,” you start, throwing the fridge door open dramatically so the bottles inside knock and clink together, “don’t act like you’re a burden. You’re family here, not a guest. Cuppa?”

“Cu – oh. Tea. Sure?” Gwen takes the leftover box of curry from your outstretched hand and lingers as you go about setting up the kettle. “What’s the first rule?”

“Third rule,” you continue, smugly catching Hobie shake his head as you do so, “is reject the establishment. Fourth rule is don’t be a sellout. Fifth rule is to clean up after yourself.” You take the food back from Gwen to dump it onto a plate from the dish rack, then gesture for her to place it into the microwave. “And the first rule …”

“Yeah?”

“… is screw the rules,” Hobie finishes from his seat on the ground, “whenever they go against what you stand for.”

“And you seem the type to stand for cleaning up after yourself, yeah?” you add.

Gwen huffs out a little chuckle, and the microwave beeps behind her. You hand her a spoon after she takes the curry out, and when she scoops up a bit to taste it, her eyes widen. She hardly swallows before taking a full and proper bite.

“Holy crap. This is amazing.”

“Brought some back from Karl’s. Good friend of ours.” You lean against the counter, gaze falling on Hobie once more when he turns off the air pump and stands up, long and lanky frame unfurling to his full height. “Speaking of, I’ll catch you up on what you missed during tonight’s rehearsal.”

“Okay,” Hobie replies.

You stare at him pensively, then nod.

While he gathers some blankets and extra pillows, you make small talk with Gwen, who clears her plate and drains her cup of tea. She’s rather cagey about where she’s from, other than the obvious fact that she’s from America. More than once, she glances furtively at Hobie, as if wondering if she should say a certain thing to you or not. Makes the gears in your head turn.

You like Gwen, though. Got a good head on her shoulders. (And she’s a drummer, too. The band needs a drummer.)

Once Hobie shows her the bathroom so she can shower, you fix your full attention onto the man as he pours himself a cup of tea beside you.

“She’s in that Spider Society you joined a few months ago,” you guess.

Hobie takes a long sip. “She’s a new recruit,” he explains afterwards. “On the run from her own universe. Bad luck, innit?”

“Gwen Stacys must have bad luck in every universe.” You cross your arms and your ankles, feeling the warmth of his body as his arm brushes yours. “Ain’t much safer for her here.”

“I know.”

“I thought you were almost ready to quit the Society.”

“I was.”

You narrow your eyes.

“Was?”

Hobie rests his elbows on the counter behind him. “Gwen ought to have somebody on her side out there,” he mutters.

“And we need you on our side right here, Hobie,” you say sharply, something sour starting to bleed into your tone. “Your ‘one hundred percent’ – your words. You don’t need to play pawn in some authoritarian establishment. Neither does Gwen. She can stay here with us, can’t she?”

“Not without a watch to keep her intact.” Hobie looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “And I ain’t tellin’ her what to do, yeah?”

“I’m not saying you should, Hobie. But I –"

You clamp your mouth shut and bite your tongue before you say something you’ll regret saying and he’ll regret hearing.

“I’m – we’re not used to you not being here all the time,” you finish lamely. Both of you are equally stubborn, and you don’t want to argue over a part of Hobie’s life that you can never fully know. “I just worry, s’all.”

Hobie contemplates your words. He tilts his head back to drink the rest of his tea, and you watch his throat as he swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

After a long moment, he sighs and scratches his jaw. “I know,” he replies plainly. “I’m quitting as soon as the opportunity arises. But Gwen should have an out too if she wants it.”

You nod your agreement, though you cross your arms more tightly, feeling the sharp pang of guilt that comes with being jealous. No reason to be, you reprimand the scared and angry little kid inside your head. This is who Hobie is. He looks after people who don’t have anyone else. Like Gwen. Like you, all those years ago.

There wasn’t a time when Hobie hadn’t been in your corner. And it wasn’t until your mid-teens that you realized he might not always be there, trusting you to be strong enough to fight and protect while he goes off to rescue people from monsters bigger than yours.

Hobie had always been the more responsible one out of the two of you.

(With great power comes great responsibility.)

It takes a moment before you realize that Hobie has moved.

“Oi.” His voice is soft, and so are his hands on your shoulders as you startle at him standing before you so suddenly. His dark gaze bores into yours. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

About you. Always about you.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “Sleeping. Spidey blokes like you are exhausting.”

Hobie regards you carefully, because he knows you well enough to see through all your deflecting jabs. But he just chuckles and releases your shoulders to pinch your cheek gently. “Comes with the bite, treacle. Mattress is all ready. I’ll join you on it after I clean up, yeah?”

“All right.”

The door creaks open, and the two of you turn your attention onto Gwen as she shuffles back into the room. Hobie pats your cheek and heads off to shower as promised.

“Bed’s all yours for the night,” you tell Gwen, going over to sit crisscross on the air mattress while she dries her hair.

“Are you sure? I’m fine with sleeping on the mattress. Or the couch.”

“Positive.”

“Okay. Well, thank you,” Gwen replies genuinely, sitting on the bed. “Seriously. It’s”—her voice cracks almost imperceptibly—“it’s been a while since … um. Well. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Any friend of Hobie’s is a friend of mine.”

She smiles, fiddling with the towel in her lap. “You must be real close, huh?”

“I’d kill for him, honestly,” you admit. “Probably wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Hobes.”

“For someone who says he’s not a hero, he sure does a lot of saving.”

“That’s what I tell him. Drives him batty.” You fall onto your back, arms and legs spread out. Your grin fades. You wonder if you should say it, but then you do anyway. “He’s amazing. I wish I was as strong as him, you know? Can’t keep up with him sometimes.”

The words hardly leave your mouth before you feel that Gwen’s whole body has suddenly gone very still.

“… Gwen?” You prop yourself up. “You alright?”

“Don’t compare yourself to him,” she says quietly but fiercely. “You have your own strengths.”

You blink. “Of course I do,” you reply, surprised by her abruptness, “but the fact still stands. Normal people like me tend to drag people like you and Hobie down during the action, yeah?”

“No.” Gwen leans over, and you see her face again. Her expression is tight and her eyes blaze. “I know that you’ve never been a burden to him. You’ll always be more than enough.”

“… Oh.”

Her words make you feel almost embarrassed for even having those thoughts. But it’s also touching in its own way, and impressive, and you smile at her for being so kind.

“If that’s what you truly think, Gwen Stacy, then I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur.

She bites her lip and nods, sitting back.

A few minutes later, just as Gwen finishes brushing her teeth, Hobie comes back from his shower looking like the walking dead. You roll onto your side to watch him all but drag himself over to the sink to brush his teeth as well.

Gwen studies Hobie and then looks at you, and the confusion on her face causes you to cackle.

“What you laughin’ at?” Hobie mumbles around his toothbrush, eyes half-lidded as he squints at you.

“You, bested by a hot shower.”

He grunts and spits into the sink, rinsing out his mouth.

In true Hobie-fashion, he doggedly goes through the motions of his usual nighttime routine before making his way over to the air mattress. You help him put his hair up and into his bonnet because he’s already nodding off, and only then does he collapse face first into his pillow, grumbling something about being cream-crackered.

Gwen silently turns off the bedside lamp and gets comfortable on the bed. You wrestle the blankets out from underneath Hobie and lay them over the two of you, hoping that you’re not acting as flustered as you feel.

You try to think of how he might swing his arm into your face while you sleep (he might), or how his breathing might be too loud (it isn’t). You try to think about how the blankets tend to get all twisted up when he dreams because he moves around, and how annoyed you should be when morning comes and you’re tangled up in a mass of long limbs and coiled sheets.

But right now, the blankets are perfectly in place, and underneath them, Hobie curls an arm around you and tugs you close. He mumbles something – at least, you think he does – and all you think about is how warm he is.

As Hobie’s breaths even out against your neck, slow and deep, your throat itches with words you’ll never say aloud.

So you reach up, place your hand over his, and close your eyes instead.

[projectbluearcadia]

Weird shower thought fantasy / crossover idea / headcanon

Partially in honor of the WHB devs finally releasing Lucifer (Selfie)

What In Hell Is Bad and Obey Me! actually take place in the same world, but WHB takes place before Obey Me, in the bad old days.

And God was upset that the kings had it so rough and reflected on himself a little. "Damn, I feel guilty about how those beautiful creations of mine died due to my negligence."

And so he decided they should be one big happy family.

He scoured Hell for what remained of the demon kings after a massive war that damn near destroyed both Heaven and Hell and gave their essence to his new creations. So, basically, he reincarnated them.

The birth/creation order was mostly determined by whose essence he was able to find first. Of course, that essence was mostly their sins that they left behind, so when they all fell from Heaven, they essentially resumed their duties as the seven kings.

And, purely because WHB Satan was (obviously) practically obliterated, God said "A'ight Luci's got a festering angie monster inside of him, so I'll just put what consciousness I could find from WHB Satan in there so it'll be kinda reasonable when he has to let it all out. Thank me later, son :P" <- the reason Luci became a single mother father.

Luci: Thanks a lot, God. First the virgin Mary and now this??

Funnily enough what God found was mostly WHB Satan's sweet side, which is the reason that OM Satan resembles (and likes) cats. The only one who didn't inherit the sin from his predecessor got it anyway because of his dad. Go figure.

The countries (Abyssos, Tartaros, Gehenna, etc.) no longer existed after the war, and Diavolo's lineage, which was probably descendent of one or more of the WHB's kings' vassals, was the one trying to pick up the pieces. The war continued because many of the angels were still complete dicks, but Diavolo's family eventually eradicated what had survived from The Big War™.

Excluding Gabriel, because Gabriel is a prick.

Which may or may not have been a factor in Lucifer falling from Heaven because he killed Gabriel on his way down. You know, because Gabriel was probably Lilith's executioner, given his history.

Then Diavolo, to signal the fresh start, said "We're not calling it Hell and Heaven anymore, now it's "The Devildom" and "The Celestial Realm." Less stigma. Very good."

And our dear Solomon? Well, you know how he is... I think there's definitely some things he hasn't told you...

Like how he was technically dead for a hot minute because of some magical mishap, which translated into a few thousand years in hell because of the way time flows there. His experiment gone wrong is also the reason why his appearance changed so drastically.

You'll ask him one day, "Hey, did you have purple hair in the past?" and he'll just start sweating profusely because he's very embarrassed about how often he did some *ahem* interesting things with the former demon kings. Asmo is the only one who still has that feeling from his past life :)

And, as far as how time flows and MC frequently traveling between the human world and hell in OM!, the travel is actually magically controlled by Barbatos, our resident overpowered god, who was annoyed by the time dilation/contraction and wanted to just visit his favorite tea shops in the human world whenever he wanted without f*cking around.

I mean, all of the demon kings knew how to go back and forth, but they had to do overly complicated shit to do it, so Barbie just said "sharing is caring" and perfected the magic by the OM! time period.

Of course there's an implication here that all events in Heaven/Hell are technically happening simultaneously from a human world perspective. Which isn't trippy at all.

And yes, OM! Barbatos and WHB Barbatos know each other. Because OM! Barbatos is (obviously) from a parallel dimension and took WHB Barbatos' name since he enjoyed the rose gardens WHB Barbie tended to. It's out of respect since he faithfully died for Leviathan in the bad old days.

Flawless joining of the worlds without a hint of plotholes (sarcasm).

(This is so random, but I hope y'all enjoyed my fever dream.)

[ziezii]

jetko au where zuko was (uninformed at all, just the councils thought this would be good for him) introduced to his new personal bodyguard

the dude who accused him of being a fire-bender and the same dude who the gaang had told him had died

[spoiler-alert-andabunchofnumbers]

Anyone else start as a fanfic writer then started writing your own original ideas, and the best way to do it is to write your drafts like fanfiction of your own work? Like that's the only way I get stuff done.

I write a story with the characters I like, write an arc with facts about the world and characters as it becomes relevant, no real point to the scenes except me having fun with a scene I happen to be enjoying. I take a character I wanna have fun with, say "Go do that important thing so we have a plot while you show off how cool you are", then add random ideas that sound generic but fun to act as story beats. They went to a town, they got beat up by monsters, they discovered a super power, they make friends.

I take breaks between writing the story to obsess over other stuff, then come back when I have an epiphany in the shower a month later and quickly resolve the current arc in order to jump them into the next one. Like, there's still continuity, they mention "Hey we just went through something, wanna talk about your feelings?" "Not really man, wanna go on a quest for that Macguffin and uncover our deep-seated issues that way?" "Sure!" But the story follows a barely-connected story beat with side characters and new world building for the new adventure. And then this happens over and over.

Then I come back, one day.

I'm 600 pages into this Sysphian writing style of starting arcs that have barely any organization yet undeniable continuity and I think to myself, "Man, what if I just start the whole thing over now that I know where the story KINDA goes." So I start writing my second draft...like it's a fanfic of my original draft. I can do whatever the hell I want with these quirky facts about the characters, maybe translate one hobby into a backstory, take this tragic fact about the backstory and make it into an actual trait that defines how they react to situations, take these two characters that would TOTALLY get along and make them friends, I can take a character who should be getting introduced way later and just introduce them now!

And then it's...it's good? It's something I would genuinely read without cringing at??

It's got foreshadowing and interpersonal conflict and secret passions and even more secret traumas and it's humorous and the introduction of characters or quests actually seem to...make sense??? Like oh shit there's actually a REASON we want this thing, it's not a Macguffin anymore! Oh crap these two characters who were later revealed to be related can have a really interesting dynamic if I introduce them like they know from the beginning they're related instead of dropping it like the most casual thing ever in an arc 300 pages later??? These two characters are prominent figures so they would likely get along but have SO much sass between their one braincell. Ya know, this guy would be a really great guy for them to talk to in order to solve that weakness they have, but they wouldn't fix it because they don't get along. OH MY GOD I COULD SHIP THESE TWO AND IT WOULD BE PERFECT -

And what I get is a story where a lot of things have changed, mainly plot-wise, but the bare bones of the former story is still there. I think "Would this character know anything about this topic?" and then think "Well I made them an inventor with a backstory like this, so maybe they wouldn't know it directly, but they'd know a famous story about it" or "Yeah, that knowledge works with their backstory. Actually, if I take that thing I can expand it into this whole other thing. Wait, that means they would definitely know this other character. Oh, they would NOT get along with this character, how can I get THEM in the same room?"

Bonus, because my draft is so long, I feel the natural urge to be like "I wanna write the most exciting scene RIGHT NOW, how do I skip over all the fluff to get to the stuff I wanna WORK with" and so I've written a way more interesting hook that feels more natural jumping into the middle of their lives. I don't have to have the long-winded backstory from birth to the present, but now I can have them reference their backstory as more of a mystery to the characters they just meet - who are learning at the same time as the audience. I can think about how this character perceives that backstory and chooses to describe it, how another who was related might see it differently, and make it unclear who had the more accurate recounting since, ya know, I didn't actually write it beat for beat in this version!

The characters sometimes evolve into something completely different from my original telling - and I have NO IDEA how but I'll take it man! I had a shy and nice character get introduced as a more mysterious but knowledgeable and competent character because I had finally figured his personality out later on. He's still a tragic and kind person, but now he's being introduced to someone who doesn't know him and I get to see how yo he would be so much cooler if THIS was the side of him we saw FIRST. This is how he acts to strangers, rather than bearing his heart and true personality on the first go around because in the first draft I just wanted to get to the part where we're already going with his true version.

This is just how I write fanfiction. This character had this thing about them, but what if it was introduced like THIS?!

Basically I'm an AU OC writer at heart. Ask me to pull a story outta my ass and you'll get the equivalent of burnt toast, but ask me to write a fanfic of my own characters and I am a Master Chef in my natural habitat making a buffet. Why does my brain work like this? Am I the only one that does this?

[blindmagdalena]

Important question: who is the top/bottom, dom/sub in Maevelight ?

i started answering this like just a normal ask, but this ficlet kept demanding to be written, so here it is! short answer: i think they're switches who don't really have much of a D/s dynamic. short schmoopy sapphic queen maeve/starlight au ahead. slightly nsfw. 🖤

"Well? What're they saying?" Maeve asks, pulling on a loose t-shirt to sleep in.

Annie—who's already reclined in bed, scrolling on her phone—glances up from under her pinched brows. "They're mostly arguing about which one of us tops."

Yesterday, Vought officially announced the two of them as a couple. The media frenzy was unavoidable, and everyone in the world has an opinion on it. Annie just can't help herself when it comes to reading the tabloids, an impulse Maeve has long since overcome.

It's kind of cute watching her get so invested in all the nonsense, though.

Maeve snorts. "What's there to argue about?" She asks, wearing a cheeky little smile as she climbs into bed.

"I'll have you know I'm winning the poll for top," Annie says, defiantly tipping her chin up.

"Oh really? Let me see," she says, skepticism written plainly in her expression. She reaches for the phone.

"No." Annie quickly hides her phone down flat against her chest, fighting back a smile. "I wouldn't want to hurt your pride. You're losing pretty badly."

"You're the worst liar," she says in turn, moving to grab her phone again. Annie lurches in an attempt to protect it, and Maeve catches her in a kiss, earning a satisfying little noise of surprise and pleasure from her.

Annie melts readily into the kiss, letting down her guard long enough to allow Maeve the opportunity to deftly snatch the phone from her. "Thank you," she says, rolling onto her back to look through it.

"Hey!" Annie cries, thoroughly scandalized despite her smile.

"The worst liar," Maeve emphasizes, giving a quiet scoff. "You're the unequivocal princess bottom of these polls. Wait, why do they think we're in a BDSM relationship? ... And why are you voting in these?"

"Just trying to help set the record straight," she says, cuddling up to Maeve's side, shaking her blonde locks out of the way before resting her head on her shoulder.

"Then why did you vote me the sub?" She asks, looking down at her.

Annie gives a little shrug. "Because you always do everything I ask you to."

"That's called being a decent girlfriend," Maeve says incredulously.

"It's also called being a good sub," Annie replies very matter-of-fact, kissing her on the cheek.

Maeve shakes her head. "I can't believe you're encouraging this," she says, setting the phone aside so that she can take Annie properly into her arms. "It's all just stereotypical bullshit anyways."

"Easy for you to say. The entire world is voting me some meek little pillow princess while you get to be the warrior sex queen," she says, slipping her arms around Maeve's waist as they get settled.

Maeve blows out a thoughtful breath. "You wanna release a sex tape or something? That'd settle matters."

"Maggie," she chastises, giving her side a punishing little tickle that makes her jerk. Maeve grins. "No, I don't want to release a sex tape. I'm just saying. It's not true."

"You don't have to prove anything to them. I know exactly what you're capable of," she says, leaning in to catch her in another kiss, which she easily succumbs to. It starts off chastely enough, but they rarely ever stay that way. Especially when Annie is out to prove herself.

She tastes like strawberries, but not in the artificial or cloying way. It's fresh and sweet, the kind of smell that reminds Maeve of picking farmland strawberries when she was a child. Annie still has the lingering warmth of the countryside bathed in sunlight baked into her skin, and the same golden wheat fields shining in her hair.

She's so much more real and honest than anything in Maeve's life has been in a long, long time.

By the time their lips part, they're both breathing a little heavier. "I'm going to guess this mean's you are topping tonight," Maeve says breathlessly, pushing her fingers through that perfect, soft blonde hair.

"You're darn right I am," Annie says giddily, reaching across her and into the nightstand next to their bed.

Darn. She never fails to make her smile.

Generally speaking, Maeve avoids the cesspit that is the internet as much as possible. Tonight, however, she'll give it a small thanks for riling up her little firework of a girlfriend into making her see stars for the rest of the night.

[29625]

Mav is a kind of guy that gets so drunk he dances to Uptown Funk like a car dealership inflatable thing and breaks his back

And Slider is a kind of husband who never stops teasing him about it but stays close to his idiot best partner, sitting on the floor and watching Kitchen Nightmares together while Maverick is sprawling on the couch and sleepy on the painkiller

(He eventually drags Slider in his arms to take a cozy nap together, but that’s another story.)

[fearandhatred]

What would you write for the title "Forget-me-nots in your crown"? 👀

this is kinda long so i put it on ao3 too lol. spit this out in 2 hours so there are probably mistakes. apolocheese

<3

Crowley wavers by Jesus's side as he addresses a man named Matthew, sat at a taxpayer's booth, and says "follow me". And the man gets up to do so. Crowley hears the unspoken dismissal for what he thinks it is, and turns to leave, but Jesus stops him with a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Come," he tells him, "let's have dinner together."

They go to Matthew's house that night, bustling with the chatter of the other people Jesus invited to the dinner. Crowley stands next to Jesus and looks around, past the milling disciples and the table of food, to all these strangers. Taxpayers, prostitutes, idolators. Crowley feels lumped in, but also oddly out of place.

"Am I here as a sinner too, then?" he asks Jesus, teasingly, vulnerably.

Jesus looks back at him, eyes kind. "As a friend," he says simply, and Crowley could weep.

Not even a day passes after that before Crowley gets his next assignment from Hell.

-----

Crowley follows the mob all the way from Gethsemane to Golgotha, hidden in the shadows and carrying her basket full of flowers she doesn't actually sell. She sees Jesus's skin, welted and bleeding and bruised, no part left unmarred, but she doesn't interfere. She can't. She would miracle a lighter burden on his shoulders, healed cuts or softer soles, but she knows it wouldn't go unnoticed.

And she's ashamed to face him. So she just follows at the outskirts of the crowd of guards, opposers, and curious strays, and doesn't intervene.

But then Jesus stumbles and falls, pressed down violently under the weight of his cross, and Crowley rushes out without thinking, kneeling in front of him with a hastily miracled cup of water and dropping her basket of flowers from her arm. He looks up at her, eyes unsurprised at her presence and kind, always kind even when blinded with blood. He smiles. "Friend," he says softly before accepting the water Crowley brings to his mouth, and she tenses her jaw to hold herself together.

The mob and the generals stand silently, uninterrupting and observant. A rare reprieve of kindness, maybe, or another act of cruelty.

"After what I did?" Crowley says just as softly, fragile, a statement in the form of a question, trying to still her shaking hands so none of the water goes to waste. When she'd been told of her next temptation, that she would be the one to start the chain of events that would lead to Jesus's death, she had locked herself in for a week, close to deciding to go against orders for once in her life.

But she'd been too cowardly, too weak to do so, again, always. So she'd hid from Jesus instead.

"It is my Father's will," he tells her now as a fact, but with a tone so far from impassive it makes her quiver.

"Well," she says, uncertain and still ready to flee, but content with their proximity. "Is there anything I can do?" To help, is what she means. Let me ease your burden. Just then, one of the guards pushes down on the heavy cross with his foot in warning, brutish in the way he doesn't even look when he does it. Crowley lifts a hand instinctively, whether to nudge the guard away or lighten the weight of the cross she doesn't know, but Jesus gives her a glance of knowing, and her hand falls.

"Be kind," is all he says in response to her question. At first she thinks he just means be kind to everyone, a do-unto-others jab for a demon who betrayed her only friend, or a slight towards the guard. But he says it just loudly enough for her ears to hear and no one else's. And despite it all, she knows him. He looks unwaveringly at her, face honest and open. She knows that it's not just because of the torture and exhaustion he's endured that has stripped him down to his bare bones, but also because that is who he fundamentally is. And she knows he also means be kind to yourself.

She swallows, and the silence stretches on like they have all the time in the world, before the guard finally kicks at Jesus's side and yells at him to get up. He pushes himself onto his knees weakly but without protest, cross dragging down his back and leaving layers of skin scratched raw and gaping.

Be kind, his words ring in her head like they will until the end of time. Be kind to everyone, be kind to yourself. It'll be a long time before she can even start on the latter, but the first she can do. She can be kind to the man with kind eyes, her dear friend, a son with no choice but to do their father's will, a being destined to live only for others.

"Wait!" Crowley fumbles, reaching into her robes to disguise her miracling of more water. "Wait, please."

The guard mutters curses at her under his breath, but blessedly, he lifts an impatient brow in thin acquiescence. Crowley brings the water up to Jesus's lips again, and when he's drunk it all, he tilts his head tiredly in gratefulness. Another trickle of blood makes its way down the side of his face, and Crowley winces at the thorns digging viciously into his head, hammered into his skull like nails.

Unthinkingly, she reaches out and brushes his hair gently away from his eyes, careful not to have any stray strand pull on the thorns. Then, aching, she reaches out for the basket of flowers she discarded, plucking the first small bunch of flowers within reach.

Forget-me-nots. She would laugh if the realisation didn't cause her hands to resume their shaking. Because she is a sinner, she is sin itself, and her and Jesus should not be friends. They should not even be talking. But they are, and they do, and Crowley finds deep in her core that she would kill herself for him to remember her just as they were. Not as what she is but as who she is, as the true self that she thinks he sees when she's around him. As a friend. And she doesn't ever want to forget him.

She digs her nails into her palms to steady them, then brings her hands back up to his head. She weaves the small flowers into the thorns as carefully and intricately as the crown itself was woven, with hands just as stained. Forces herself to look at the blood crusted around the stems, the matted hair. The unworthiness, the uselessness of what she's doing.

When she's done, she pulls back with a sharp inhale as if coming back to herself, and looks away almost guiltily from the superficial bandages that are her small, insignificant flowers. Hates herself immediately for thinking that she of all beings could be the slightest balm for someone paying the price of sin.

But Jesus has never judged her for anything, and when she chances a glance back at him as he struggles to his feet, he's still looking at her. Looking at her with love, and with kindness. She thinks the kindness might mean more to her than anything else.

She slinks back into the shadows as the crowd moves forward.

-----

When they reach Golgotha, Crowley has discarded her flower basket, and she spots Aziraphale instantly in the growing crowd. She contemplates leaving him be, but she wants to get closer, so the chances of him not seeing her would be slim. She pushes through the crowd, steeling herself against Jesus's cries of pain. When she slithers up to Aziraphale's side, he turns and smiles at her in acknowledgement. She doesn't try to smile back.

In any other situation, she would laugh at how the only two beings she's acquainted with are an angel and the Son of God. For now, it just hurts.

"What–" she starts, then clears her throat as her voice cracks slightly with clogged-up tears. "What was it he said that got everyone so upset?" This time, her words come out as flatly curious and uncaring as she intended.

Aziraphale huffs out a breath. "'Be kind to each other'," he quotes.

"Oh," is all Crowley can reply at first. She turns away from Aziraphale to blink a sudden onslaught of tears away. "Yeah. That'll do it."

She stays until the sky darkens, long after everyone has gone and she's the only one in this place left alive. She lets the tears fall, then, looking up at the man splayed out on the cross, as human as anyone could be. She doesn't know if she'll ever be the same again. If there'll ever be anyone to care for her like he did.

Before she turns to leave, a single forget-me-not dislodges itself from the crown of thorns atop Jesus's lolling head and drifts softly down, landing softly on her outstretched palm.

[snaggletoothedbastard]

So I'm having thoughts about LOTR. Specifically the ending. And the fanfiction that rewrites the ending. Bear with me.

So we all know that LOTR ends with Frodo leaving Middle Earth and going to the Undying Lands, right. And we all know that he does this because all the events of the story have had such an impact on him that they've left him quite traumatised and not really able to live life the way he used to. And we can probably all guess that this is a reflection of how Tolkien may have thought about his trauma after fighting in the First World War.

The ending makes sense considering the time the book was written, because in the 1940's and 50's, people didn't know as much about mental health and disability as they do now, and there weren't as many ways to help people manage disabilities other than institutionalising them or like. Giving them cocaine or something idk. So it's reasonable to assume that because Tolkien didn't see many ways that people could live with disabilities and be happy, he couldn't write them into LOTR and instead basically just put Frodo in Middle Earth's equivalent of Heaven and said "there you go, you're all better now".

I like this as a sort of tragic ending. I mean, you can't deny that someone being so drastically changed by an experience means they can't enjoy the things they grew up with is pretty tragic. The ending does make sense. But I kind of hate it.

I don't think it was written badly or anything, and I'm not trying to dismiss Tolkien's experiences that influenced this ending. My issue with it is that, when you look at it through a modern lens, it has vaguely ableist connotations. Specifically the idea that disabled people (Frodo) can't live full lives and be happy in the real world (Middle Earth) and can therefore only be happy when they're "cured" or when they die and go to Heaven (the Undying Lands).

Now obviously LOTR is an old book and it's important to consider the time it was created when analysing it, as you would do with any other piece of classic literature. A lot of old books have some outdated language and concepts in them, simply because that was normal back then. And until very recently, we probably wouldn't have thought the ending of LOTR was in any way problematic. And it might not have been, because it's not really the fact that Tolkien wrote that ending that's an issue; it's the fact that the way the world worked back then made it near impossible to even think about any other ending.

Since the book was written, though, there have been a lot of advancements in science and research into disabilities, and there are now much more effective ways to treat and manage them. There's medication and therapy for physical and mental issues, and there are lots of accommodations that we can and should put in place to make life easier for everyone. Back in the 1940's, Tolkien wouldn't have had these things, and therefore didn't consider them to be options when writing about what happens to Frodo at the end of the story. But now, we do have them, and it's this progress that has discredited the idea that disabled people can't be happy in the real world, and subsequently made LOTR's ending seem outdated by today's standards.

Now this is where the fanfiction comes in.

LOTR readers these days, who are aware of the progress we've made as a society and the new ways people view and treat minorities, often write fanfiction that puts things into Tolkien's universe that wouldn't have otherwise been there because of when the books were written, from openly queer characters to characters living good, happy lives with disabilities. And I think this is a good thing and it's really nice to see, especially in regards to Frodo's disability. I like seeing people work out how he might accommodate himself in the world of Middle Earth, and how the other characters would help him with that. I like that sometimes people have to get creative when figuring out how he would cope with trauma and chronic pain, because obviously Middle Earth doesn't have a lot of the things we have in the real world.

I like that we can finally give Frodo a chance to recover in a more realistic way than just sending him to the afterlife. I like that we can finally allow him to live.

A lot of Tolkien purists complain about new adaptations and fanfiction because "it's not what Tolkien wrote so he wouldn't like it". First of all, why do we still care about the opinions of a man who's been dead for over fifty years? What are you going to do, summon his ghost to haunt all the fanfic writers? Hold a seance to find out exactly what he thinks? Good luck with that.

Second of all, I honestly believe this is something he would approve of. He went on living after the First World War, but he didn't get to live with the disability accommodations we have today. And because he didn't, neither did Frodo. We can't give Tolkien the life many disabled people have now, but we can give it to his tragic hero. We can make his story a little less tragic. And if Tolkien was here now, of all the tropes we're using in LOTR fanfiction, it wouldn't surprise me if "Frodo stays in the Shire" is one he could get behind.

[weirdo-fun]

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic. I don't know if this will be good at all or people will even like it. This idea has been in my head for a few months and I finally caved and wrote it. This will be a few chapters maybe 3 chapters long? I don't know but I hope you enjoy! Also side note grammar is not my strong suit, so if there are any grammar mistakes please be nice. :)

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 1.7 K

Warnings: Bickering, slight dislike of inner circle, slight enemies to lovers, fem! reader, reader being sort of a rebel

Author's Note: Was this slightly insipred by "What Else Can I Do?" From Encanto? Maybe... (I do not claim or take credit for the song, all rights for the song go to the respected owners)

Side Note: Azriel will come into the story later I promise.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” You ask Elain as you sit on in arm chair with both legs draped across one arm of the chair with your back leaning against the other one. The book you were just reading now lay on your chest as you look at Elain who is sitting, a lot more elegantly, on a sofa adjacent to you. You wait for her to answer as you give her a questionable look. 

She sheepishly looks up from her own book. “I don’t mind it. I know they only want whats best for me and to protect me.” You raise an eyebrow at her not entirely believing her. “Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that they practically tell you what you can and can’t do?” You ask, pushing the conversation more. 

These have been questions you have had for a while. Ever since you and Archeron sisters were thrown into the caldron and turned High Fae, everyone decided, weather subconsciously or not, to keep Elain in this sort of bubble. Treating her as this precious flower that needs all the protection from everyone. You never had any ill will towards Elain, she is a very feminine woman who does tend to be on the more soft spoken side, which is what makes Elain Elain. This is what gravitated you towards Elain and wanting to be her friend. Being a very outspoken and extroverted person you always tended to befriend the more quiet types. It has always been this way since you were a child. The extroverted girl talking and hanging out with the introverts. You don’t know why you subconsciously gravitated to being friends with the quieter crowd when you were the complete opposite. Maybe it gave balance in your life. You being the talker and the other one being the listener. You don’t know why or how but those friendships always worked out when you were mortal. 

That was true until you accidentally, more like breaking a rule, decided to take a stroll in the middle of the night throughout the Archeron estate. You were a newly hired servant and you were too excited for your new job that you couldn’t sleep so you walked around the estate and ended up in the middle of the crossfire of the Archeron sisters, Nesta and Elain, being kidnapped. You of course jumped in to help but ended up being taken as well. 

After being turned and by the grace of the Mother, the Inner Circle allowed you to stay even though you weren’t related to the Archeron’s. You were still turned fae and needed a place to stay. Although the healing process was slow and mostly done on your own you never thought the inner circle was completely bad.  

It wasn’t until Elain finally started to come around and was healing from her trauma when you decided to befriend her. You guys fastly became close. Mostly thanks to you for always seeking her out and wanting to strike up a conversation. From the outside it may have appeared that you kept forcing yourself in her life but Elain wouldn’t turn you away and she would start conversations a good portion of the time. But it was when you guys started to become close that you noticed the treatment that the inner circle gave her. You never said anything in the beginning thinking you were thinking too much into it. But after so many days, and even weeks of the same treatment that you were questioning everything regarding Elain. 

You have questioned Elain about this treatment but she would brush it off saying things like “oh well i don’t see a difference” or “it’s ok Reader they are just being friendly and making sure I am ok.” And you haven’t pushed Elain further until today. 

A certain bat boy got under your skin earlier. And to be frank, he actually has always gotten under your skin when it comes to Elain. He is the master of the “delicate flower treatment” towards Elain. This treatment would be cute if 1) he was courting her, which he isn’t and 2) if it was dialed waaaaay back and the treatments actually respected her as being a true adult woman and not a fragile little girl. 

Azriel, is the bat that gets under your skin. You have tried to be friendly to him but he never talks to you and you never know what he is thinking. His face, although you first thought very handsome when you first met him, is always expressionless and stone cold. You have tried to be civil with him but because of your outspoken and extroverted nature he mostly disagrees with you for the simple fact that he knows you don’t like how he treats Elain. You have confronted him before about the matter in a friendly way but he shut you out and blew you off saying how you don’t know anything about what Elain has gone through and you don’t know whats best for her. The whole interaction left your relationship with him strained. And since then both you and Azriel have been on opposite sides on everything. Both wanting to challenge each other and win; never seeing eye to eye.  

Elain sheepishly shrugs. “I don’t think they really do-.” “Girl, no they do.” You interrupt her sternly. She looks at the ground and her posture slouches a little and you can tell that she knows your right. That her sister, with Cassian, and especially Azriel treat her as a fragile little princess. That anything can break her. But she survived the Caldron, she survived her trauma from it. You know she is a strong woman and you try to show her that; try to show the inner circle that. “You know I am right.” You say in a firm way as you swing your legs from on top of the arm rest to sitting right in the chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. She looks at you with innocent and confused eyes. “Well, I don’t know what to say to them when they tell me what I can and can’t do. I just agree because I don’t want to create conflict with them.” She softens her tone at the end, getting shy and embarrassed. “But is that what you want?” You ask her straight in the eye. “To keep agreeing with whatever they say and tell you how to live your life? To not have an opinion or a say? Is that what you want?” You ask in a calm yet concerned manner. “Well, it’s just that-” “Is that what you want?” “Well no but-” “Is that what you want?!” “I can’t just-” “ELAIN! Is that what you want?!” You yell for a third time. Wanting to hear her true feelings, her true thoughts and opinions on the matter. With no bullcrap excuse about how she won’t mind for stupid reasons. And no running away from this conversation. 

“No.” She speaks so softly that you don’t hear it. “What?” You ask leaning into her to hear what she said. “No” Elain says. You hear it this time, but her head is down and her hair is fell in front of her face, not being able to see her. “Elain what did you say? I can’t hear you?” You lie to her to try and get her to voice her opinion louder and to lift her head up and say it more confidently. She slowly lifts her head, straightens her back and looks at you with truthful eyes. “No. That is not what I want.” She says without her voice wavering. “I would like to go out shopping when I want to go. I would like for them to tell me things straight up and stop carefully stepping around eggshells thinking I won’t be able to handle it, that I might break.” 

You smile at her. Proud that she was finally able to say what she was feeling out loud. You walk over to her and pull her up to stand and give her a hug. “That is all I wanted to hear you say.” You look at her proudly holding onto her upper arms. “But, I still don’t know how to tell that to them. You know it’s hard for me to voice my opinion.” You shake your head. “We will take this one step at a time. Step one was to get you to voice out loud to me what you actually want. And we did that, so congratulations.” You tease as you walk back over to the arm chair you were sitting at to pick up the book you were reading. “Well then what’s the next step?” Elain asks curiously. You smirk and turn towards her. She sees the smirk on your face knowing you are already planning something. Her eyes widen in concern because every time you had a plan it would always get you in trouble and Azriel would always be the one to scold you. But you keep doing these “plans” because you didn’t care what Azriel was going to tell you.

“Remember when you told me that you thought my power could do so much more, than make pretty plants and flowers?” You ask as you create just a simple pink rose on your hand. “Yes.” She nods, not knowing where this conversations was going. You smile, “Well, I have been secretly trying to practice to create new things but it’s hard when just in the confines on my room.” You hand her the pink rose that you just created. “Why don’t we take a walk through the forest. And maybe along our walk I try to practice without the worry of the inner circles eyes and ears.” You ask sheepishly. “Look I know this is supposed to be about you but I would just like to be with my favorite person in the forest exploring my power more without judging eyes.” You plead. Elain nods and gives a small smile. “Thank you Reader for wanting to help me. And if helping me also includes me being able to see your power that I am super jealous of by the way, then yes.” You smile at her, grab her hand and both of you guys start to giggle like little girls as you guys walk out of the living area planning to “sneak out”. 

That is it for Chapter 1! Did I also give Reader Isabela's powers?...Read the next chapter to find out! I am already thinking about chapter 2 and I promise Azriel and Reader will be interacting with each but I was setting everything up until then. But chapter 2 may take me while to publish because I am getting ready for my vacation but depending on how people react to this I may be motivated to publish it sooner. ;) Please if you have feedback leave a comment because I would love to read them. Thank you so much for reading and if you made it this far. Until next time, take care everyone!