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buzzingroyalty · 2 days ago

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how to grub your karkat

or you can use this for any other plush or if you wanna make a whole new plush entirely or whatever

disclaimer im not a professional in any sense of the word and theres anything technical im doing wrong or you think you can do it better by all means dont hold back

Things you’ll need

sewing machine unless youre really dedicated but doing it by hand is gonna be an agonizing feat i promise. I just used a straight stitch for everything

Fabrics: for the main body i suggest a minky or something soft, for the inner lining something in the same color as the main body and ideally with some stretch, and anything black for the legs. Less than a yard of each will do

if youre using minky or anything furry get a lint roller. Trust me

stuffing, i used polyfil

threads that match your fabrics

good fabric scissors

sewing needle for hand sewing/fixes

karkat plush (optional)

Heres the pattern i came up with! They are numbered for your convenience and pieces with the same numbers are going to be part of the same row of segments. cut everything out on the black lines (Make sure when you’re printing to fit the image to the page size.) on the left we have the belly pieces, the right is the main body, and we have the foot in between

Im using a relatively thin minky fabric, im sure you can use whatever but something with some fluffiness kinda helps to mask any imperfections in the sewing. When drawing out your patterns keep in mind what direction your fibers settle in and try to keep it consistent

On the wrong side of the fabric measure out at least a half inch seam allowance around each piece of the pattern, i used a centimeter and that worked but had me sweatin a bit.

For the main body pieces fold your fabric in half before you cut so you can have 2 of each segment that are mirrored to each other, i also extended all of the #1 pieces an additional centimeter/half inch at the top so we can fold them over at the very end. I highly suggest numbering the insides of all the cut pieces, especially in a way where you will remember what direction they are each meant to sit

After you’ve numbered all your pieces, set them aside and start making your feet!

Each of the 6 legs is made of two pieces, but i because i only had a swatch of the black minky i made up for the rest with some random black scrap fabric from an old project. Try to keep your fabric consistent if you can lol

I didnt give these pieces any more seam allowance on the fabric but i recommend adding a centimeter or half inch to the base of it to extend the length and have some more wiggle room

like so

Instead of cutting out 12 individual pieces and struggling to stitch them all together i started with 6, then pinning each piece real tight with the right/furry side down onto my secondary fabric, and slowly stitching around the shape real close to the edges- DO NOT CLOSE THE FLAT SIDE as we are going to stuff the feet through here

Now cut the shape out of the fabric and repeat till you have 6 feet

Now flip those bad boys inside out, stuff up, and if you wanna you can match them to their best pairs

now grab a pair of feeties and your #1 pieces and line them up, in this picture my belly #1 piece is shorter bc i forgot to add the extra centimeter and i recut that once i realized. Line those sides up with the right/furry parts touching and with the feet in between, flip it around to make sure everything's sitting the way you want it

Note. i didnt realize until later but i sewed my feet in upside down. save yourself the time it takes to fix it and dont make the same mistake

Straight stitch these layers together and repeat with the next two segments our good friends #2 & #3

Repeat this for the #2 and #3 sections but NOT THE #4, that part doesnt need feet! just line those edges up right/furry sides together and sew

the secret to the squish of the suit is making this inner lining from another fabric and stuffing it! I used what i had leftover from a stretchy red fabric for a kanaya skirt. For this we need to make a new pattern for each section, making sure it follows the curve of the round edge but the piece itself is shorter, almost like youre removing the seam allowance you added. Mine is a centimeter shorter on the top and on the bottom and reaches to the middle

Make one of these for each numbered segment,you only need to make half the pattern and you can fold your fabric in half on a crease and you end up with one symmetrical piece (bars)

Now you need to pin these pieces right on top of the wrong side of your numbered furry sections and line up the straight edges like so (disclaimer for LOTS OF SCARY NEEDLES !!)

Admittedly i didnt estimate how long these pieces needed to be very accurately and overshot it a bit, if you start pinning it from the middle and continue outwards on either side thatll ensure its not too lose and you can cut off any excess after

The only exception is piece #1, if you recall we gave this #1 section extra seam allowance. This is so we can sew down that excess at the neck later and hide any of the inside that might show once its all put together. Do not connect the top edge to the inner lining! Since i added an extra centimeter earlier im gonna leave that hanging and pin + sew down the inner lining a centimeter lower than the top edge. LEAVE THE CURVED EDGES OPEN! DONT SEW THEM TOGETHER! those stay open to stuff

Straight stitch the lined up edges together

Now you have all these skinned pieces of little freak and we need to connect all these segments together making sure to sew UNDER the existing stitches so we dont see those on the outside when its all put together

Inside looks like a bit of a mess but thats fine bc its not the part that matters

Now stuff it! you might need a stick or pencil or something long and thin to get stuffing into the middle bits

Now thats its stuffed you can finally close those curved edges. Try not to sew over a thick mound of stuffing, push it in a little further to give yourself some space and you can fluff it back out after everythings closed. I cut off that excess lining fabric after sewing

Ough… they filleted my boy…

Finally, match up all the edges and lines and HAND SEW them right sides together. You will destroy your machine trying to work around that stuffing i promise. You also have an excuse to get up from your work desk and sew on a couch or smth. I used a standard backstitch for a tight finish and again, make sure you sew under any existing stitches so they arent visible on the outside!

Speaking of the outside, once you stitch everything together you can very gently flip this sucker inside out

This is @hatamonu’s cat Cocaina, aka Coco. Her perfectly square figure made it into my grub files somehow so shes essential to the tutorial

Check the fit and all thats left to do is roughly baste stitch down that excess neck fabric onto the stuffed lining and youre set! I gave the thread slight tugs as i went to tighten the opening a bit put dont tighten it too much

tadaaaaa

It fits pretty snug but starts to slip a bit with motion. Heres a bounce test

If you do shake your baby make sure to safety pin the plush to the suit so he doesnt prematurely shed his exosekeleton

Now spread that baby fever and show your baby to the world

pics from the ALA 2025 homestuck meetup and supplied by para.dox.cos

Tysm for coming along this ride with me especially if you followed the prototype journey on twitter, much thanks to my more sewing savvy friend for the solution to my grub dilemma and for helping me design and build my dolorosa cosplay <3 much love and hopefully many more homestuck cosplays and meetups to come in the future!

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veephoenix · 2 days ago

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track by track series | n.s. one shot

A quick something I wrote as a tiny wave of inspo kicked in while I was staring at those new pictures in the studio. No trigger warnings. Just fluff. I might give it a title later. | Words: 700aprox. | I'll probably turn this into a series comprised of random scenes that take place in the studio. You can read the last song as a previous part to this.

There’s something about the silence in the studio once it empties out—when the boys abandon their instruments, the machinery, and the space sinks into an almost sepulchral quiet, where the musical notes that had been filling the air just minutes earlier are relegated to a nonexistent plane.

As much as I love being there to offer them my support and watching them strive minute after minute to achieve that near-perfection they’ll showcase in front of thousands of people hours later, there’s nothing like finding yourself standing in the middle of an empty studio.

The remaining daylight still filters through the tall windows, and the human warmth of the team lingers between the stone walls. If I try hard enough, I can visualize the boys there, each in the position they’ve been in all morning. I can see Noah in the center, behind the stand, holding his mic, his lips brushing the casing in almost the same way they brush against my skin when he kisses me and we make love.

I don’t realize I’m smiling. I glance over my shoulder to make sure I’m alone, and once I confirm it, I drop my backpack onto the floor, over the Persian rug, take off my shoes, and sit cross-legged. From my bag, I pull out a notebook and a pen. I lift my gaze once toward the view outside the windows, and a moment later, I’m writing words onto the paper, drawing lines, creating something like poetry that Jolly will probably tweak and turn into the lyrics of a song.

I suppose at this point, some might be wondering where I am while they gather in the hotel lobby deciding where to go for dinner. I’m far from there, both physically and mentally. Minutes slip away, and so do the hours.

By the time the light turns golden, signaling the sunset, I’m lying on my stomach on the rug, my socked feet in the air, brushing against each other as I continue writing and nibbling on my lip, searching for the most fitting word to end this poem—if you can call it that.

When the air shifts, I don’t notice because I’m so absorbed in my own world and the warmth of the studio, though I should have recognized that familiar sensation—that feeling that tells me my favorite human is occupying the same space as me.

I don’t notice his footsteps as he approaches because he’s careful not to break my moment, and because he wants to surprise me—which inevitably means that once he’s within reach, he can’t resist the urge to touch me and he'll break my momentum. His hands catch one of my ankles in the air, making my heart leap in my chest, and when I look over my shoulder, my eyes meet his, and suddenly, I’m grinning like an idiot.

Noah pulls off my sock, and an instant later, he’s leaning down to kiss the inside of my ankle. I scrunch my nose.

“Don’t do that,” I say, feeling coy. “I walked here from the hotel. I need a shower.”

Noah releases my ankle and straightens up, raising his eyebrows. “What do you mean? Are you saying your feet smell bad? Because all I smell here is Thai food.”

For a moment, I don’t get the joke. Then Noah wiggles his eyebrows suggestively toward a sturdy wooden desk behind him. There are a couple of paper bags.

This time, it’s my eyebrows that shoot up as my eyes widen.

“I thought we could have dinner here,” Noah announces, glancing quickly at the food and then shrugging, still watching me as I remain lying on the floor. “Just you and me.”

It’s things like this that make me love him so much.

And the only way I know how to show him this love is by accepting what he offers me—his food and his care.

I hurriedly gather my things while Noah pulls containers out of the bag and hands me a plate of pad thai, still warm and smelling of lemongrass and other spices I can’t identify. Noah sits in front of me, also cross-legged, and together we devour the food, practically in silence.

After a while, my hands find their way to his body, because there’s not a single day I can spend too much time in his presence without touching him, without feeling the brush of his skin against mine.

I value the time I spend alone creating art, but there is no masterpiece more wonderful than him and the way he loves me.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian one shot

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thewidowsledger · 14 hours ago

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not a back story but i would really like to know what is happening with milf r and nerd nat right now that nat is in her household with her sons...

i love your work so much and all i can say is youre underrated, thank you

After seeing Nat, r never stopped squirming. Having to have the welcome home lunch with her sons and of course, the one she had a one night stand with that turned out to be her son's bestfriend.

She did her best to avoid Natasha or be alone with Natasha. You are welcoming to her and very accommodating but only when you are around your sons.

That summer was supposed to be a bonding season for you and for your children but now you try to avoid home as much as possible so you wouldn't have to see or have an interaction with your second born's bestfriend.

You told Thena all about it and all she did was laugh at your face about how odd and how small the world is for you. You would always spend your time with your friend that your children are becoming curious onto why you're always gone.

One time your Bruce had to ask you why you were not home the whole day, he asked you if you were seeing someone. And you froze on spot, holding tightly on your cutlery as you eat dinner with them, you saw Natasha looked at you—all three of them were looking at you. You let out a chuckle wishing it didn't come out nervously as you intended it to be. And, you said, yes. Lies.

Tony saying, "Can he take a punch?" And Natasha almost choked her food. You blinked as Tony laughed at his bestfriend. "I...he can, Tony." You said, hoping that he won't notice the lies that lay beneath your words. You only said yes, so whatever hope you see in Natasha's eyes whenever you look at her would fade.

They only stayed for 3 weeks, painful 3 weeks having not to spend so much time with your sons and having to see your son's friend that gave you mindblowing orgasm that the father of your children couldn't even give you.

The night before they leave your place, Tony told Natasha to accompany you to the market to buy some stocks like foods and toiletries for their apartment. You refused, almost scolding your son telling him that you don't want his friend to be tired and you have a long travel tomorrow. Natasha took that as a chance and told you that it's not a problem. Now, you can't refuse.

The drive on the market was painfully silent, Natasha was the one to push the cart, being a gentlewoman she is as she took the liters of water you were carrying, your hands grazing at each other before she placed it in the cart. She also took it to herself to carry everything to the car especially the heavy ones.

The drive back was full of tension unlike the drive on your way back to the market. It is the only and last moment you would be with Natasha, alone. "You're really seeing someone?" You nodded, lies. "Good for you." Because if you are, now there would be a reason for Natasha to move on.

You really tried not to talk or utter a single word with her but the feeling of being guilty walking out on her is eating you. "You're young, Natasha. You'll meet so many people along the way." You spoke after her little talk with you. "You're a big, smart girl. I know you know how much I love my children." She know what your words were hinting. She could only nod, suppressing the tears that are threatening to fall in her eyes.

"C-can...can I kiss you? One last time? Please." Fuck being in your driveway as she asked. You saw her reddened eyes with tears. You cupped her face with one hand and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, she expected a kiss on her lips but you draw the line there. Your foreheads and noses touched for a brief moment before you pulled away. You have to, because if you don't you won't let her go neither will she even though you had painfully missed how her plump lips felt like on yours and as it travel on your body.

You didn't know that Bruce and Tony planned a surprise for you that's why they let Natasha go with you. The little celebration went well, filled with so much tension and stolen glances between you and Natasha. At the end of the night, you all took a photo together, one with Bruce, one with Tony, one with the two of them, and one with the redhead.

The day after, you never tore away yourself to your children. Hugging, kissing and babying them. Your children never stopped asking you about the one you're seeing but you would try to avoid the conversation by scolding and reminding them about stuff when they finally go again to the university. Meanwhile, Natasha never dared to look at you even before they leave the house.

After they leave, you took Natasha's shirt and the photo you had together where you two stood awkwardly with enough space between each other. A tear fell down your cheek as you put it on a box. You know that as you close this box the feelings you had with the young girl will forever be hidden with it. You two cannot be together, you love your children too much to be with her—but a part of you wished for the situation to be different—you wished that maybe in another universe her star would align to yours.

—

Author's Note: Sorry guys, this is not a sad ending, this is a realistic ending🤓 thank you for this request, nony! And thank you for the kind words, I appreciate it🫶

Fic link: Toothbrush

#nony #den answering˙⁠๑✧⁠*⁠。#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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itsnesss · 2 days ago

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hey, are you willing to do a Myung-gi x read x jun hee where they both want her and are kind of fighting over her. thanks <3

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | lee myung-gi & kim jun-hee × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | romantic tension, jealousy, slight arguments

word count | 0.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, fiddling with a bracelet. You didn’t want to draw attention, but that seemed impossible with the two of them around.

Myung-gi was leaning against the wall, his frown as deep as always, but his eyes softened every time they landed on you. On the other hand, Jun-hee, with her short hair and confident attitude, sat on the bunk next to yours, pretending not to care about you, though her words cut like knives every time Myung-gi spoke to you.

“What are you doing there alone?” Myung-gi asked suddenly, stepping closer to you. His hands rested on the edge of your bunk.

“Nothing important, just… thinking,” you replied, trying not to hold his gaze for too long.

Jun-hee let out a sarcastic laugh from her spot. “Thinking, sure. Probably thinking about how much she wants to get out of here, not sit around listening to your nonsense, Myung-gi.”

He clenched his jaw, turning to Jun-hee. “And what would you know, Jun-hee? You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She stood up slowly, her posture steady. “I know more than you think, and I also know she doesn’t need you pretending to be her protector,” she said, motioning toward you with a tilt of her head. “She doesn’t need someone like you, Myung-gi.” It was obvious they had history.

The atmosphere grew tense. You felt the weight of their stares on you, but you didn’t want to intervene just yet. It was as if they were both trying to prove something that didn’t need proving.

“And what do you think she needs, Jun-hee?” Myung-gi shot back, stepping closer to her. His voice was filled with frustration. “Someone like you? Someone who only knows how to use sharp words to hide their own insecurity?”

Jun-hee narrowed her eyes, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “At least I don’t need to hide behind excuses to justify my choices, Myung-gi.”

“Enough!” you said, standing between them before things got out of hand. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

They both froze, their expressions shifting from anger to discomfort at your intervention.

“There’s no need for you two to fight over me. This isn’t another test; you don’t have to compete like my attention is some kind of prize,” you added, crossing your arms.

Myung-gi lowered his gaze, his expression softening. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jun-hee, on the other hand, let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. He’s the one taking things too seriously.”

You knew Jun-hee used sarcasm as a shield, but you also noticed a hidden vulnerability in her gaze.

...

As you returned to the common dorm, they both walked by your side, competing for your attention in more subtle ways.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt in the test?” Myung-gi asked, his concern evident.

“Of course she’s fine. She’s not as fragile as you think, Myung-gi,” Jun-hee interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But if she needs someone who actually understands her, I’m right here.”

You sighed, tired of the same dynamic. Suddenly, you stopped, turning to face them.

“Can you both stop?” you asked, your voice firmer than you expected. “I don’t need you to take care of me like I can’t do it myself.”

They both fell silent, surprised by your tone. Finally, Myung-gi nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Jun-hee crossed her arms, but her expression softened too. “Alright. Maybe… I went a little overboard.”

#squid game 2 #squid game #squid game x fem!reader #squid game x reader #squid game x you #lee myung gi #myung gi x reader #myung gi #player 333 x reader #player 333 #junhee #kim junhee #kim junhee squid game #junhee x reader #player 222 #player 222 x reader

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muffinsin · 2 days ago

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hi hi !

could you to HCs of the sisters and how they prefer sweet, romantic smut (if that makes sense). like i think dani would absolutely adore the slow, sensual, very loving stuff, but i wanna know your thoughts on it!!!

love ur writing btw, stay cool <3

Hiya, hon! :) Absolutely! Awhh, I can 100% see that. Our little romance bug for sure deserves some loving

The inbox is back open for the time being. Requests might be edited a little slow :)!

Let's get into it :)

Masterlists

Bela

Starting off, it’s very fair to claim Bela isn’t the most…sexual, of people outside of a relationship

She doesn’t go chasing highs with people that mean little to her, with random women regularly throwing themselves at her. Usually, that is, at least

And while her view and eagerness on this certainly shifts when she gets with you, she still isn’t quite one to rush things, to be hectic, to be rough exclusively

She likes to draw things out, likes to make them intimate

Who said even rough sex can’t be deeply intimate and even romantic, after all? She finds a way

Then, one night, when you’re curled up in bed together and tangled in one another, you “confess”

That you too prefer soft, sensual sex

The romance, the love

Of course, the two of you have times when the two of you like to indulge in one another a little faster, a little more cautious because you have little time

But, no matter how desperate, Bela likes to take her time with you

She likes holding you, likes to cup your face in her hands

She likes being tangled in one another

Likes to feel your breath against her skin

She loves to make you shiver and plead for it

At other times, she loves being made to plead and gasp and moan, in return

Her favorite way of being with you is at night, the room drenched in the dark shades of the night and illuminated by the warm, cackling fire

She likes the gentleness, the love shared between the two of you

And while she is by far not as romantic as her sister, she likes this better than fast, rough sex

At other times she likes to speak to you softly

To tie you for her, to caress your flesh

To drown in your scent and make you down in the pleasure she can grant you

Should you behave for her, that is

Cassandra

A sharp contrast from her sisters, this one

While Bela prefers slow, sensual sex and Daniela melts the thought of romantic, slow, passionate lovemaking, Cassandra has…different thoughts

She isn’t quite one for love, and affection, and her behavior in the bedroom certainly reflects this

Normally, Cassandra is all for taking what she wants from whoever she wants

Fast, hard, rough

Often, this leaves her “lovers”- what a ridiculous thing to call them, given how she cares for them little more than one might care for a toy- hurt, aching, dead in the worst of cases

She never cared, would have never cared

Why?, after all?

It’s not like they were lovers to her

Tools

Toys

Pets

Until you

And even with you, even as she cares for you deeply, the thought of taking things slow, sensual and romantic is almost foreign to her

She gets off, to no one’s surprise, to hard, rough, fast, even painful things. Whether they’re done to her or she inflicts them upon others depends entirely on her mood

Cassandra just doesn’t understand the point of taking it slow. If she wanted to hold you, after all, she would do just that

But, when you approach her about your wish to try a different, a more gentle and romantic route, she’s willing to give it a try

Anything for you. Well. Most things for you, she insists

And while she finds she doesn’t necessarily like it, she doesn’t care

She loves to watch you at those times, to bask in your love and happiness

It isn’t about the pleasure for her, then, and she usually wanders off to handle things herself, the way she’s used to, even while listening to some of her prey’s screams if you had to guess

She insists, she doesn’t mind

She likes watching you enjoy yourself like that. It gives her a sense of relief, to know she’s capable of being gentle and loving as it comes to this, even if being like that always isn’t her thing

Daniela

Oh, Daniela

Our little romance bug, really

Out of her sisters, she is by far the most romantic one

And, in turn, the one craving romance the most too

While she can enjoy rough, fast sex, there's often times she just craves something else

Something loving, and gentle, something romantic

Something so pure and intimate

When her cheek is cupped instead of her hair or throat, when her lips are wet from soft kisses instead of bruised from rough make out sessions

Not that she doesn't like those things, too

Ah, but she just melts when she's tangled in bed with you, when she feels the love shared between the two of you

When it comes to being with you, she goes all out very often

A dimly lit room, candles scattered up and about

A fire cackling in the distance

Delicious scents filling your noses

Flowers set up

Sometimes, she even likes to scatter a few rose petals about for you

All this, of course, pouring her little heart out, in hopes of this love and these efforts being returned

She's gentle with you, loves to praise you

She just has a way of making you feel like you're the perfect person in the world. She loves you so much

When it's you in charge, she absolutely loves when you treat her gently

Slow, sensual touches

Gentle, hungry kisses placed against her skin

Her face held, cheek cupped, while your fingers drive in and out of her sopping wet core

Oh, and just how wet she gets for you...

She's leaking, her pussy a wet mess, overly sensitive for you in no time

She can't help it

She's addicted to feeling loved

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village

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cryptid-killjoy · 3 days ago

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Curly hair was down for the count!

He started screaming at the top of his lungs shrill like a girl. "ZOMBIE! ZOMBIEEEEEEEEEEE! OH GOD! Get it!" He was scrambling, flailing, trying to gain traction in a way that looked worse than a spooked cornered cat with nowhere to go. Bebop wasn't helping at all. He didn't come running to his aid like usual. What triggered him to open his eyes and focus a little was Bebop's voice saying, "Well, well, well, look what the Mother Ginger dragged in."

Then Jax finally noticed it wasn't a zombie that tackled him.

"ELLIE!" His face lit up like Christmas unlike the cautious way Mazzie had presented in Candy Land. "Ellie! You're here."

He pointed at Babyface too. He was smiling so big his eye was like slits and could barely be seen, so happy. He started hugging back.

When Bebop saw Babyface he stood up. Babyface started to smile. A genuine smile. It looked like he was coming in for a hug. Their whole damn family was dead. It was going to be okay this time.

Then he actually got the knuckle nudge. "Look at you actually living through this bullshit. Damn. There's a Beagle Holocaust out there and you're what I get?"

There was a time Babyface took it all and knew his place in the pack of Beagle Boys, but after everything he'd been through, he'd had about enough. The rest of the pack wasn't there to dogpile him if he barked back.

He took one glance to the air. He made up his mind and he charged his brother Beagle and started wailing on him. These two started a wrestling match that was a long time coming and long overdue. Every few jostles one would pin the other and say something snarky. While Bebop started with low blows like Wish it was you instead of Bouncer or insert name here type of jabs Babyface went in another direction when he finally got the upper hand. "Yeah, well while you're sitting here being a crybaby over who you didn't save, I was out there finding more Beagles. I was doing the footwork to start a new crew. I did what Ma Beagle told us to do not sit here on my ass doing nothing letting more of us die like you."

That one got Bebob too heated. He pulled a blade in anger. Babyface pulled his gun. They stared at each other and stared at each other.

Mazzie and Jax looked at each other. They both looked at Ellie. Everyone looked back and forth between each other and then suddenly both Beagles put their weapons down.

"Fine. Time." They'd say it simultaneously as if they both were counting down like it was a game. It was like they both knew if neither went for actually killing one another and they wouldn't because they were brothers that this was a Babyface won draw. He drew the weapon that caused the pause.

"Fine. Fuck." Bebop said sticking his blade in his back pocket. Then he'd start talking like nothing insane happened between them. "Who'd you find?"

"Black Arts. He's got some Beagle Babe with him. Calls her Nebby. Visited my Ma in prison, got some leads."

"Brandy? Zombies didn't take it over?"

"It's not in Nola, dope."

"Oh, right, right. Good thinking, little Beags." Then he rubbed the top of Babyface's hair as if he still wanted to infantilize him somehow even though he just got the drop on him not quite wanting to give up his position so clearly. He was the elder brother.

Mazzie looked over at Ellie as the drama unfoiled itself and then relaxed again. "So, everything's still the same."

Then she started grinning because at least if something was the same even though they knew nothing really was it was something to hold on to. Crazy as the boys being the boys was it; she didn't mind it being that something at all.

"Well, not everything." Jax blurted out.

Mazzie gave Jax a hard glare. She wasn't quite ready for all that, but then again why drag it out?

She waved them into the control room so they could start to understand what was different about Pleasure Island than before. They might not know it like the backs of their hands like Mazzie and Jax did, but they were going to start to understand this clearly the moment they got inside.

"Don't get your hands near them. Don't pet them or feed them."

"Pet or feed the donkeys?"

"No."

Then Mazzie pushed open the door as Babyface shook off his hair from Bebop rubbing it.

His cocky jaw fell wide open. His eyes were just the same. He couldn't decide if he wanted step backwards or run forwards. There inside the control room was the boat full of Beagles all chained to chairs including one of Mazzie and Jax's father's, Honest John.

An alive Gideon, the quietest one turned his head and said, "Oh 'ello there. I didn't expect guests. Do we needs more chains and brains or plates and sammiches? Which kinds of guests are you, dear?"

Then he threw a body part at the zombie Bouncer who started gobbling it down with no manners at all. Yes, Gideon was feeding the zombies.

This was only the beginning of the surprises inside.

“Yeah, but some half-pipes would be cool, some railings,” Ellie said, looking around. If it was themed like an amusement park, why couldn’t it have a skate park? “I’m sure the boys would love it.”

She knew that she was torn. And she knew that Babyface knew. And Mazzie, even if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. It was a big decision - and she knew the clock was counting down. But for now - maybe just try to get through this night alive, and make sure that everyone else was as well.

She stayed back, out of the questioning that Mazzie was doing to Babyface, which proved that everyone here knew that she was on the fence. She kept her hand on the weapon, looking around for zombies, making sure there wasn’t anymore coming. Mazzie might be able to get the boys to stand down but no one controlled zombies.

But she looked back in time to see the punches to Babyface, and she couldn’t help giggling at that.

“I almost was,” Ellie admitted to Mazzie. “I was stuck inside of our base when everything went to Hell. The zombie virus in the air went away, thankfully, and then there was just the dancing. I duct taped myself to my skateboard and went to Babyface over in Halloweentown. I nearly wiped out so many times because my hips kept trying to hula-hoop or something, it was ridiculous.”

But then shes caught onto what Babyface had. Survivors. What were the chances - not many people knew about the island. Almost nobody knew about the island, actually. So how -

“Beagles?” She repeated, her eyes wide with disbelief. Of all the people - of course the Beagles would endure. There was so many of them, there was no way that all of them could be lost. "Like - Real-time Beagles?"

Big Time. Bouncer.

She put an arm around Babyface, hugging him close, rubbing up and down on his ribs. If there was any time to try to provide comfort, it was that moment, learning the absolute truth. At least he didn’t have to see them, though. Like how she had been pretty sure that she saw her parents shuffling about through Feral.

Her eyes followed up to the porch. Red hair. Looks like she was no longer the only Ginger in Feral.

“Son of a bitch,” She said, grinning. And then she started to run, flats hitting the pavement, going right up to Jax and tackling him down with a hug.

#jaxellie #mazziexellie #babyfacexellie #bebopxellie #gideonxellie

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windvexer · 2 days ago

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Hey chicken, I got hold of a pdf of scott cunningham " earth power" and "earth air fire and water " and something that confuses me in some spells is the method used relating to the goal. For example:

In one to help break bad habits, it says to write this bad habit in a a leaf, take it to a tree and bury close to the roots. Then put an offering for the tree in the same hole, cover it up and pour some water on the spot

But couldn't this action of burying and watering, be seen as "planting" the bad habit? And if you are planting it would grow...

Another one is for love/relationship, where with a burned stick you draw two hearts interwined in a piece of paper, visualizing a satisfying relationship and then put some rose petals in the paper, fold it and burn it in a candle or fire.

He describes that as it burns the power is released

But it makes me think that burning your wish in the paper would have an opposite effect, like destroying the wish

Idk. What do you thinks of those "mechanics" of spells? Am I overthinking?

Hi! I've never read those books and I'm not a Wiccan.

So I can only comment from my own perspective, which may be the incorrect perspective to accurately interpret what Cunningham is saying.

You are not over-thinking; you have stumbled onto a very important aspect of sorcery and one that is good to think about.

How is it that sometimes, a box is used to trap and bind energies, but at other times a box can be used to coalesce and radiate helpful energies?

How is it that a candle can both open portals and close portals? How can a candle both be banishing of spirits, and an offering to spirits?

How can burying something in the earth not only be destructive or even an aspect of curses, but also be a technique of prosperity and growth?

The reality is that burying something isn't magic and it doesn't do anything. Lighting a candle isn't magic and doesn't do anything.

"Doing magic" is not taking a leaf and writing things on it and burying it. A mundane person can do these things in a mundane way and no magic will occur.

Nothing is automatically happening; burying something neither automatically causes an act of banishing, nor an act of conjuring.

As the practitioner, it is you yourself who determines what happens. This is the vital and inexorable power of 'setting intent.'

The tree does not decide what happens to your habits leaf. The earth does not decide what happens to your habits leaf. YOU decide what happens to it.

No, it isn't strictly true that burying things is always an action of generative planting. A very popular form of cursing is to turn an apple into someone and then bury them to rot. But the Earth can also gently break things down through the cycle of decay. Or it can trap things, like a cave-in.

We see all of these things occurring in nature; of course you can plant seeds to grow strong. Of course if you bury a body it will rot. Of course leafs slowly decay and their particles return to nature.

All of these things are valid.

YOU decide which one happens. This decision is germinated with intent; it is gestated with technique. YOU are the creator god. The leaf is clay in your hands, and you can decide:

You are the body of the beloved that broke my heart, as this leaf decays their joy will decay.

You are the mustard seed that returns a hundredfold harvest, mightest among trees.

You are the leaf of the forest floor, breaking down and returning to nature, just as my bad habits break down and return to source.

It is not a leaf. It is not planting. It is a spell. You create the reality of what the leaf really is, and you dictate how it must try to interact with its environment.

It must be good with you, or it is not a good spell*.

So if you personally cannot get around the idea that burying something will always be an action of generative "planting," then you shouldn't do the spell like that!

It's not an issue of "wrong belief." You may be following valid intuition. You may be at a time in your practice where the Earth calls you to plant things to grow. You may be at a time in your practice where fire whispers sweet promises of destruction to you.

Explore what's around you and what you're feeling! Change the methods if you don't think they're right for you.

But it is also untrue to say that putting things into the earth is always an act of planting. It can be many things.

*This is not true but this is a post, not a book.

#answered #spellcrafting #witchblr #witchcraft #tbl #witch community

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rookinthecrownest · 3 days ago

Note

17 for the ask game!

17. Rook teaching someone a skill

“It’s alright, Little Dove. Try again”

Madeleina Mercar sits with her daughter, held snuggly in her lap, and watches as blue sparks of magic sputter in and out existence.

Francesca huffs, and Madeleina, knowing her daughter as she does, is picturing the look of frustration on her delicate features although she can’t see her. Her aquiline nose must be scrunched, and thick brows drawn low over doe-like eyes. The blue light emanating from her small hands fades, as they drop into her lap.

Frannie turns to her mother and frowns, her shoulders deflating, “I can’t do it … not like you”

Madeleina runs her hands gently through her pin-straight black hair. One of the many features, both in personality and appearance, she inherited from her father. Lucanis’ little twin, in nearly every way. The best of both of them, Madeleina thinks. After all, the magic bit was all her.

“Ah, little Dove, you’ve only been at this for a few days” Madeleina offers a warm smile and touches her forehead to Frannie’s, reveling her daughter’s warmth. “You’ll get better, you just need more practice”

That only seems to deepen Francesca’s frown as she pulls away from her mother, indignant.

“I’m a mage!” She says, punctuated with the stubbornness of youth. “I should be able to -... to... I don’t know! Make something!”

Then, she lets loose the real crux of the issue next.

“How am I supposed to tell my baby brother stories if I can’t do it like you…”

Madeleina is unable stop herself from letting out a surprised breath. A little part of her had certainly been curious when Francesca barged into their bedroom one night and demanded to know how Madeleina’s illusions work. She had planned on showing her at some point, of course – but wanted to wait until she was a bit older and had a more refined grasp on her magic. When her magic first manifested, she nearly froze their elderly cat, Frupert, into an ice sculpture. Francesca’s control had improved leaps and bounds since then, but it still wasn’t quite perfect and one had to watch for the errant fireball when she was in one of her moods. The singe marks being painted over their estate were proof of that, and the staff had learned to duck quite well as a result. Nonetheless, she was making all the progress she could in her personal instruction of Francesca– making use of her time in the Circle to guide her instruction.

Madeleina smiles warmly and rubs her growing belly, now about four months into pregnancy. Francesca joins the motion and pulls herself into a hug with her mother.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there, holding each other, and she’s not sure what prompts her to conjure an illusion, but she does so anyway.

It’s a familiar one – a castle surrounded by four turrets and long, pointed spires. Finely gilded wrought-iron gates bar the entrances. It floats between them for a few moments, and her daughter stares, transfixed by its construction.

“That’s the castle from the Sleeping Princess” Francesca mumbles. “I’ll never be able to make it…”

“Yes, you will. You just need to start with something smaller” Madeleina waves her hand and the castle disappears from existence.

“We use our magic to tap into the Fade and make the real world a little more like the Fade- just for a moment” She explains, putting her arm out in front of her daughter again. It glows with blue light once more. “When I do my magic, I think if it as bringing the stories that live in my heart into the real world, using the Fade as the bridge”

Madeleina holds her daughter closely, and Francesca in turn, nuzzles into her neck.

“Think hard, think carefully about a memory or a story. Something simple, but important to you. Focus on it in your mind’s eye, and then draw on the Fade to make it real”

“Mmm…” Frannie looks hesitant, and Madeleina gently touches their foreheads again and puts a hand on her daughter’s heart.

“Don’t think about it so much in here” She bonks their foreheads together gently and Frannie blinks in confusion. “Think with this” Madeleina puts a finger on her daughter’s chest, where her heart should be, and leans back.

Francesa closes her eyes tightly, balls her fists together, and clenches them tightly until they start glowing blue again. She keeps her eyes closed like she’s searching for something deep in the recesses of her mind.

‘Come on, you can do it’ Madeleina thinks to herself, watching eagerly as the results of her daughter’s efforts start to take shape.

She bites her lip as three amorphous blobs start winding their way into a clumsy existence at the hands of her daughter.

“You’re doing it, Little Dove! Keep going” Madeleina whispers in her ear, and puts a reassuring hand on her back.

Francesca’s eyebrows furrow in concentration. Madeleina restrains a chuckle as she watches Frannie’s tongue stick out of the side of her mouth.

She’s made a few shapes before, but has never sustained something so complicated as a fully formed figure or a building.

Three figures start stretching out and winding back on and collapsing in on themselves. Just when she thinks Francesca’s about to give up, one of them starts taking shape. Slowly, but surely, one of the figures starts to resemble… Lucanis?

It has his widow’s peak, feathered back hair, the beard, the square jaw and handsome features she fell in love with all those years ago. Then, the other blob starts to take on more of her features, for just a moment, before a grunt of effort from Francesca releases the illusion into the Ether once more.

“Agh! Why!” Frannie pounds her fists on her knees and groans, leaning back into Madeleina’s arms and flopping like every ounce of tension from every muscle left her in that exact moment.

Madeleina chuckled and pinched her cheeks. “Little Dove, I’ve been doing this kind of magic for over twenty years. Give yourself time”

“I should be better at it” Frannie huffs again, crossing her arms over her chest.

She certainly has her father’s stubbornness and need for perfection in everything they do.

“You’ll get there, I promise”

A soft knock comes at the door, and a moment later, her husband is peeking through.

“Where are my girls?” Lucanis grins as he comes to stand in the doorway. Francesca, carefully, given Madeleina’s swollen belly, extricates herself from her mother’s grasp and runs quickly to her father. She wraps her arms around his legs and sulks against his finely tailored black trousers.

“I can’t do Mom’s magic like she can” She whines into his pant-leg.

Lucanis chuckles and pats her hair gently. “Few can, my darling girl. But you have the best teacher in all of Antiva – perhaps Thedas.” He gives Madeleina a knowing look, and she can’t help the flush that creeps over her cheeks when he does. All these years, and he still has that effect on her.

He leans down to her level and gently takes hold of her shoulders, the size of his hands dwarfing them, “But you’re going to keep working on it, hm? Because?”

Francesca nods solemnly, “Because I’m a Dellamorte… and we don’t give up”

Lucanis nods, “Good. Now, that’s enough real magic for one night hmm. How about some culinary magic, courtesy of your loving father?”

Francesca beams, “What did you make tonight?”

“Your favourite” He answers, looking rather satisfied with himself.

“Oh- mushroom, seafood and lemon risotto?” Francesca asks hopefully, her green eyes shimmering with excitement.

Lucanis nods and before he can verbally affirm the statement their daughter squeals and starts running down the winding staircase and heading for the west wing of the estate, where the dining room(s) are located.

“She gets that from you” Lucanis jerks his thumb towards Madeleina and smiles.

She rolls her eyes and steadies herself on both hands before pushing up. Lucanis is next to her with inhuman speed and has his arms steadying hers before she’s even fully pushed herself off the floor.

“Take it easy, cara mia” He whispers, leaning close. Madeleina feels that same flush creeping up the back of her neck, and the tips of her ears.

Madeleina, once fully upright, rolls her eyes and ribs him playfully. “I’m fine. You worry worse than a Chantry mother”

Lucanis presses a chaste kiss to her cheek and keeps her encircled in his arms even as she moves to follow their daughter to the dining room.

“Mi Amor, I will spend the rest of my days being eternally grateful that I have you and our children to fret over”

#asks #rook story time #ahhhh this was fun #ty for the ask!!#its definitely helped bust up a little bit of the writer's block #rook #rook mercar #lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #rookanis #datv

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narrans · 2 days ago

Text

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

“Rules?” Soren didn’t realize he’d echoed the word until he saw Ashlynn nodding, hand resting at something at her side that looked like a thumbtack. She looked nervous. Unsure. There was a general unease about the air around the small woman that made Soren almost feel wary, but something more. A desire. A simple goal of showing to this person he could be trusted. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps it was some kind of affect this tiny woman had over him.

Whatever the case, he continued to listen as Ashlynn spoke. She was on her feet now, and it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was.

“Yes, rules.” Her voice was shaking. “Staying for dinner. Being seen. Any interaction. There are rules you need to follow. All of you. If you can’t agree to those, then I’m gone. Get it?”

He as absolutely entranced. What kind of courage did it take for her to come up and speak to someone so much bigger than her? And what drove her from the walls out to speak with him? Was she in danger? She seemed like she could handle herself well enough. Or was it something else? Something he couldn’t understand or hadn’t noticed because of her silence?

He looked into her blue gray eyes and sensed the gravity of her request.

“Got it,” he breathed. His fascination kept him silent as he watched her fidget, eyes flicking back and forth as she gathered her thoughts.

Even though Ashlynn suspected Soren would be agreeable, the words were still hard to speak. Thoughts swirled in her head like a whirling tornado. Everything she’d ever been taught fought to constrain her voice. Every lesson engraved in her mind compelled her to stop.

Solitude drove many in desperation. She never thought she’d be broken enough to accept it, but here she was – a Borrower talking to a human.

Ashlynn had thought long and hard about all of the things that she wanted to say and the rules she would need to set in place to ensure her safety. There were so many, but there were a few that needed to be set in stone before she agreed to interact with Soren and his sons.

“Okay, rule one – no prying questions. I’ll answer some about me, but if I say no, it means no. Drop it. Leave it alone. Sharing too much is dangerous for me. Two, when I say it’s time to go, I have to go. No persuading. No keeping. No caging. No boxes either.” Ashlynn watched Soren absorbing her words like a sponge, making no effort to inquire further or counter any of her requests.

Is it really going to be this easy?

“T-three, no touching. No grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, stroking, or petting. Ask before you do any of that. If I say it’s okay, then… go slow. Four, don’t make things so… obvious… that you’re helping or leaving things out. It makes things easy. I don’t want easy. I’m not a pet and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m weak.

“Finally, no telling others about me. No stories. No hints. No drawings. Nothing that points to my existence. Do you accept?” Ashlynn wasn’t sure why she was holding her breath. Everything seemed reasonable enough, but what would Soren think?

As for the human, each request only dared him to ask more questions about their wall dwelling house guest. It was the first and obviously most important of the five rules that Ashlynn set in place. Rather than question all of them, Soren decided that asking only one, clarifying question would benefit himself and his brothers.

“Yes, of course; but I do have one question if you don’t mind.” Soren’s soft tone lessened the blow of the question, but even that wasn’t enough to ward off Ashlynn’s obvious hesitance. Soren watched her fidget subtly, obviously uneasy about the question poised to strike.

She backed slightly toward the electrical cover as she replied, “Okay? What is it?”

“What counts as a ‘prying question?’ Your name, for example, could be considered prying. What food you like or don’t like could count as prying too. Also, Rey and Dorian are curious by nature. They might not know the difference or practice discretion,” pointed out Soren. By the way the infinitesimal eyes flicked down and side to side, it was obvious Ashlynn hadn’t considered these things. “Could… I suggest a compromise? We can ask, but you don’t have to answer. Just tell us if we’re out of line and, like you said, we’ll drop it. As long as you don’t take offence to that suggestion.”

Soren hoped Ashlynn wouldn’t go sprinting back into the walls at his suggestion. Being friends was his goal, if he had to give it a name. The human watched, breath baited, as Ashlynn contemplated the request.

Every time you show up, I have more questions – questions you probably don’t want to answer. Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? Are there more like you out there? And do they need help? Why are you trusting us now when you weren’t before? Did something happen? Is there something you need? Want? Are you telling me we can’t ask questions because you’re protecting someone? Who are you protecting?

Or are you just as curious about us as we are of you?

Soren would never dare voice these questions now or ever. Ashlynn seemed too timid, too careful, to dare answer even one of these questions. It would likely drive her away, and he didn’t want that. By no stretch of the imagination did he want to keep her here against her will, but the world was a dangerous place and, for better or worse, that protective instinct he inherited from his father and that kept his brothers safe now stretched out its hand to protect her.

The moment felt stationary before, after several skeptical looks, Ashlynn nodded a single time. “You… you can ask, but I won’t answer.”

Soren felt a smile spread across his face and the breath contained in his lungs vacated his body. He wasn’t sure how things would continue, but now he knew how they were going to start.

“So… do we shake to seal the deal? Or, do I start making dinner for four?” It was a relatively poor ploy to move things forward, but it worked. Ashlynn’s smile and obviously relieved expression told Soren everything he needed to know.

“Um… dinner. What… what’s the significance of shaking? Like… this?” Ashlynn shivered as she watched Soren’s reaction, which he was barely able to suppress as his amusement was trying to get the better of him.

“Um…” Soren cleared his throat to hide the laugh tickling the back of his throat. “No. Not exactly. It’s a handshake. You grab the other person’s hand who you want to make a deal with and that shows you both agree to the terms and stuff.” He only heard a soft “oh” in response to his explanation.

What kind of life do you live, Ashlynn? Absolutely fascinating…

“So… um… is there… anything I can do to help? Or… erm…” Ashlynn glanced around the countertops that exaggerated her size difference to Soren as she bounced her arms against her sides. It was obviously a bit of a nervous quirk, but Soren tucked that away for later.

“Let’s see,” he said absentmindedly as he thought about what Ashlynn could actually do to assist. “We’re having pizza tonight. Have you ever had it?” Ashlynn gave a vague shrug. “It’s basically cheese, bread, and tomato sauce with different toppings. Oh! I have something you can do. You have a knife, right? You could go ahead and start opening the bags and such. If you wanted to that is.”

Ashlynn, inundated with a lot of information all at once, took a second to process everything after nodding to Soren that she could fulfill the task he offered her before nodding. With little to pushback, Soren had agreed to her terms. Just like that, she was being integrated into a family activity – making dinner. The ease that Soren spoke to her and gave her a task made her head spin. She would never have been able to figure out something like this so fast.

Was it because Soren had Dorian and Rey?

Ashlynn didn’t have time to ponder because, moments after his suggestion, Soren was setting a mountain of plastic bags of varying sizes and colors onto the countertop adjacent to her. Ashlynn set her bag down by the electrical cover, keeping her hook and blade by her side, begore making the hop, skip, and jump across the stove where Soren placed the bags. Some of the food items were ones she recognized while others were completely foreign to her.

It didn’t necessarily matter. Ashlynn had tasted Soren’s food before and wasn’t about to start questioning him now. She pulled the razor blade from its sheath and began slicing. The Borrower was easily dwarfed by the bags, and she shuddered as her imagination played the stories she heard of humans trapping Borrowers in zippable bags and plastic containers.

Soren wouldn’t do that. Dorian and Rey wouldn’t do that. They’re good. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if her mantra was meant to reassure her and her decision to interact with these three humans or if she was tamping down an instinct that had picked up on potential malicious intent. Whatever the case, she continued to work.

The blade sliced easily up the shiny plastic. Twice Ashlynn had to set her makeshift razor sword to wrestle with the seams. She was so engrossed with her work that she didn’t notice until she looked up that Soren had been watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“What?” she asked. Soren, who had glanced over and suddenly found himself staring, snapped out of the trance he was in after picking up on the defensiveness in her voice.

“Nothing, sorry,” he apologized. The look in her eye screamed disbelief. “It’s just interesting… differences and similarities. Your… sword? Dagger? What’s it made of?” Soren caught the tiny glint of light from the blade as Ashlynn examined it.

“It’s… just a knife. Well… for me it’s just a knife. It used to be part of a razor blade, but I bor-… er… reused the blade since it was still sharp,” explained Ashlynn. She had stopped herself from saying “borrowed” and hoped Soren didn’t notice or wouldn’t say anything. The Borrower feared he would put part of that name together and stumble across the correct term for people like her. It might’ve been a stretch, but she didn’t want to take any more risk than what she was already chancing.

“Ah… I see. And the end? You just had to flatten it and wrapped part of an… eraser? Very ingenuitive.” Soren’s complement made Ashlynn’s cheeks burn, but thankfully something or, rather, two someones pulled focus from her.

“Soren! Soren! I think we’ve got it. It’s going to be great for little m…” Soren and Ashlynn both glanced toward the living room as the sound of two pairs of footsteps thundered around the corner. Rey and Dorian were obviously racing to get to Soren first to reveal whatever they had been inventing when they stopped dead in their tracks. Both of the boys spotted Ashlynn on the counter in an instant.

Ashlynn, out of pure instinct, had backed away several large steps and crouched, hand clutching her razor blade dagger and legs primed to sprint back for the wall at a moment’s notice. The fear in her throat took a moment to swallow and she sucked in slow, deep breaths as silently as she could. The Borrower began debating whether this whole “interact with the boys” was a bad idea or not when Soren stepped forward, hands raised as if taming two wild beasts at the same time.

“Hey guys,” Soren stated clearly and calmly. “We have a guest over for dinner, so we’re going to be on our best behavior, yeah?” The boys’ faces, filled with wonder and delight, both bobbed up and down as they nodded in response to Soren’s statement.

Rey was the first to speak, giving a little wave and an optimistic smile as he said, “Hey there, little miss. Are you really staying for dinner?”

Even though Ashlynn had already committed to interacting with the human trio, getting the single word, “Yes,” out to the boys was much harder than setting the rules with Soren. The kids glanced at one another, obviously struggling to hide their excitement, before looking back to Soren.

“Does… so… does that mean she’s helping you?” Rey asked.

“Yep, and she’s doing an excellent job,” stated Soren, sneaking in a wink in Ashlynn’s direction that the boys didn’t notice. Their excitement was too distracting, just like how that wink was for Ashlynn.

“Can we help? I wanna use the smack chopper!” Dorian cheered.

Rey’s face immediately fell as he grumbled, “Hey! Not fair! I wanted to use the smack chopper.”

Smack chopper? What on earth is that? I really don’t like the sound of that, Ashlynn thought as she felt her body tense. Soren must’ve noticed, because he cleared his throat and pulled a few chopping boards out from beside the sink on his right.

“Well, at the moment I think it would be better if we let me do the cutting since we’re trying to get everything going quickly. You said you’re both hungry, right?” Soren’s sense of diplomacy and redirection was on point, and in minutes the boys were at the table helping cut and separate all of the “toppings” for the pizza. Ashlynn felt her body slowly relax as she continued her task.

At some point, Soren divvied out this squishy pale tan ball called dough and showed Ashlynn and the two boys how to knead the dough. Something about gluten and stretching out the strands. Ashlynn didn’t know. It was above her head. All she knew was that the rhythm of mixing the dough was soothing and, in a fleeting memory, she remembered seeing her mother doing something similar in their kitchen when she was very young.

“Alll-right. Now, we need to let it rise, so we’re going to put it into the sink for a bit, clean up what we can, and wait before putting everything together,” informed Soren as he gathered the balls of dough together. While Ashlynn couldn’t help clean off the table, she did snag a fragment of paper towel, attached it to the gadget Rey made for him, and began wiping down the countertop where she was standing.

It was the least she could do.

Once done, however, she watched as the boys bounded into their seats at the table, which was quite a distance away. Soren was close behind, but paused and looked back at her as he nodded at the table.

“Care to join us? We were going to play a quick game of Pictionary while we waited.” Ashlynn glanced from Soren back to the eagerly awaiting boys at the table.

“Um… sure,” she stated hesitantly. “But… I… I don’t know how to play.”

“Don’t worry. It’s very easy,” reassured Soren.

“You can be on my team!” Rey suggested, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the light. Dorian shot him an envious look and echoed his brother’s offer.

“Or mine! You can choose to be on my team.” The boys’ banter back and forth reminded Ashlynn of how she and her…. She felt her heart sink, a hollow spot in her chest as her situation felt thrust back into her face. It felt like so long ago…

Mere feet away, Soren noticed Ashlynn’s features shift from amused to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Is she sad because she doesn’t know the game? Maybe she doesn’t want to disappoint either brother? Or is something else going on? Soren wondered.

“Alrighty guys. Maybe we show her how to play and then see if she wants to choose a team,” suggested Soren. “And you don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. Also, if you need a hand, happy to help.”

It was quite a generous offer, and once again a display of Soren’s ability to read her mind; for the most part anyway.

“I… thank you. I’ll make my way over while you get everything all set up.” Ashlynn thought the lift would be nice, but having Soren carry her to the table in front of the boys might send the wrong message, especially since Soren hadn’t had a chance to tell them the rules and conditions for her visiting.

“So shall it be,” he smiled before turning back to the boys and dividing up different pieces of paper and cards. With only quick flicks from curious eyes on her, Ashlynn snagged her things and headed to the edge of the counter. The wood grain had obvious pock marks from where her hook had lodged itself on previous borrowing missions. So, with that in mind, Ashlynn slid her hook into the hole and leaned over the rim.

The rope easily slid through her fingers while her feet kept traction as she bounded down the wall like an acrobat. The wind in her hair was thrilling, and Ashlynn was on the ground in a matter of seconds. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to sense all three humans watching her, jaws slack in awe.

This is really going to blow their minds then. Ashlynn stifled a grin to herself as she flicked the line. The ripple dislodged the hook and sent it flying through the air, and Ashlynn was ready for it. She only had to take two steps to the side as she snagged the hook out of the air before it hit the ground and rolled up the line in record time.

“Woah!” Both Dorian and Rey were leaning over the table, eyes wide as saucers, as they watched Ashlynn spin and hurl the hook up like a discus. It flew through the air and lodged into the side of the table on the first try, something Ashlynn was hoping would happen for dramatic effect, before climbing the line, legs weaving around the line like a snake, as she inched her way up.

“You are seriously so cool, little miss,” said Dorian, shifting his position from leaning over the table to peering under it to watch Ashlynn climb. Even Soren, who Ashlynn was climbing up beside, looked impressed.

“And, instead of gawking, we can go over a couple of rules she set for us. If she’s going to be visiting, we need to respect those rules. Okay? So, listening ears on,” instructed Soren. While Soren explained all of the things Ashlynn had told him, she finally managed to lift herself up over the edge of the table and roll onto its surface. Her heart thumped loudly, and she felt a bit winded, the table being the longest distance she’d covered without resting since her injury.

“So, we can’t ask certain questions? Like her name and stuff?” asked Rey. Soren glanced unsurely at Ashlynn. He’d never been given strict instruction to keep her name a secret, but she also didn’t give him permission to tell it either.

Hearing this, Ashlynn sat up and crossed her legs, knowing what needed to be done next. Clearing her throat, she looked between the two boys who were now looking at her eagerly.

“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, Rey… Dorian. I’m Ashlynn,” she said. She didn’t miss the excited glanced the boys gave one another. The Borrower also didn’t miss the curious gleam that was as bright as a flashlight in the dark. It was that curious gleam that every Borrower was terrified of, but she’d seen it before in the boys and let her nerves come and go as they sat back down in their seats.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ashlynn,” said Dorian.

“Ashlynn. I like that name. It suits you,” chimed in Rey. The child’s complement was short lived as Rey then asked, “Did you come up with it yourself?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer the question. These two were obviously too young for the birds and the bees talk, and she was so unlike anyone they ever met that they were obviously not assuming there were more people like her, especially parents. At least there’s one good thing from this. They’re not assuming there’s more people out there like me.

“Um… n-no. I… I didn’t come up with it,” said Ashlynn. She felt her throat tightening, which led down into her chest like roots of a tree. She swallowed and looked away, hoping this would be the end of it; and, thankfully it was.

“Yeah, I didn’t come up with Rey. Our mom and dad came up with our names. Well, our mom came up with Soren’s name, but mom and dad both picked out Dorian and Rey,” blathered Rey. The statement struck Ashlynn as a bit odd as she wondered why Soren’s name would be dragged into the mix, especially at the mention of our mom.

“And, with that line of questioning, let’s explain the rules of the game and get a few rounds in before we bake the pizzas,” interrupted Soren. Ashlynn managed to mouth “thank you” before Soren delved into how to play Pictionary.

While Ashlynn had games like this she’d played with her family growing up, it was the whole reading portion that she struggled with. Ashlynn could sound out some words and understood certain letters put together, especially the ones that indicated danger. Reading was never a Borrower’s strong suit, so instead of participating she just watched as the two brothers tried to guess what Soren was drawing, each getting a point when they guessed correctly.

It was a charming experience, but all good things had to come to an end because, finally, it was time for dinner. Soren and the boys brought everything over to the table and Soren explained how to roll out the dough to make their own personalized pizzas.

“Okay, Ashlynn, how it works is after you roll out your dough, you spread on some sauce and then put different toppings on the top. Watch me.” Soren was lightning fast as he put together the first and the second before pausing and watching Ashlynn put together her own. Dorian and Rey asked a thousand questions as she used a bit of tin foil to spread red sauce over the surface.

What was her favorite topping? In truth? She didn’t know. She liked things she recognized and that didn’t make her feel sick later, so she chose cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and peppers.

Could she eat a whole pizza by herself? Especially if she was super hungry? Not a human sized one, but maybe one her size.

Was this the first time she’d ever cooked something like this? Yes. Cooking was a challenge.

How did she cook usually? Candle stove, but that was if she needed to cook or heat something up for safety purposes.

Did she just eat leftovers she found? Yes, mostly.

Ashlynn found herself answering some of the questions and politely declining the others and, just like that, it was time to eat. The aroma alone could have brought Ashlynn to her knees. Smelling everything first hand instead of the residual from the ceiling was like the difference between night and day. The same could be said about the temperature.

Eating something warm? Revolutionary. The moment she took her first bite, Ashlynn felt herself melting into it. At one point, she even let out an audible groan, making the boys giggle.

“It’s good, right?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn could only nod in response as she relished the experience of sharing a warm meal. “Hey, I have a question for you. Have you ever been afraid of heights?”

Ashlynn shook her head, before pausing, “No, not when I’m looking down. It’s when I’m looking up, like out here, that makes me feel a little woozy.” Rey, being curious, immediately snapped his head back ninety degrees to look up at the ceiling as if to see things from Ashlynn’s perspective. It was Dorian, however, who continued questioning.

“So, like, is it hard to climb tables and stuff like that? You know, being small and everything and you having to look up?”

Ashlynn paused mid-chew and looked up at Dorian with slight indignation. The Borrower wasn’t sure if she should be offended or grateful that the kid was taking her perspective into account and asking legitimate questions that weren’t too personal. When out in the human’s territory, it was all too obvious that size was a factor. She knew she was small, but for a Borrower she was slightly above average height. That was no small feat for a Borrower. She finished chewing and swallowed before readjusting where she sat.

“Um… no? I mean, it was hard when I was little – little-er. It just takes practice,” Ashlynn replied. For the first time in what felt like an hour of constant inundation from the boys, Soren spoke up.

“Yeah, I can understand that. We have to do rope training and looking up at a building roof is probably the same as looking up at the top of a table for you. I noticed you were using what we call the ‘s-hook’ method to get up the rope,” stated Soren. Ashlynn’s imagination instantly ran off the rails, her train of thought imagining Soren climbing up a line. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, and hoped Soren didn’t notice her miniature fantasy.

“I… er… I don’t know the names. It’s just what I found was faster to limb the line,” muttered Ashlynn. “I’m… impressed you can climb a line. Most humans don’t know how to do basic survival stuff.”

“Yeah, Soren knows everything,” grinned Rey as he took another bite. Sauce smeared on either sides of his lips. His smile beamed through, despite the red staining on his mouth. Ashlynn nodded and glanced up at Soren, catching his eye.

“Yeah, your dad is really great.” Immediately, she watched Soren’s features darken. Now he was the one who was stiff and who looked away awkwardly. Unease settled around the table. The beaming smile on Rey’s face diminished, and Dorian’s brow furrowed in a scowl. Ashlynn felt like she’d just set off a firecracker in the walls, and all eyes were on her.

What? What did I say? Did I say that wrong? What’s going on?

“How would you know? You’ve never met him,” Dorian piped up before taking a particularly viscous bite out of his pizza slice, tearing the edge away with ease. Confusion didn’t cover Ashlynn’s initial reaction. She glanced up at Soren, who was clenching and unclenching his jaw and keeping his eyes averted.

“Yeah… dad… he’s not… the greatest…” mumbled Rey. “He’s the one who gave me these.” At that, Rey pulled back his long sleeved shirt, and the sight broke Ashlynn’s heart. There were circular marks going up Rey’s arm. They looked like burns, but not like the ones Soren had on his calloused hands. There were other marks too that might’ve been cuts, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell from where she was sitting. Dorian did the same, wiping his hands on his pants and pulling up his sleeves to show the same marks on him.

“No… he’s definitely not the greatest.” It was the first time Ashlynn had heard a growl come out of Soren, darkness saturating his words. She’d obviously treaded on a taboo subject; but how? She looked from person to person before the words came to her.

“But… hang on a second. So… they’re not yours?” Ashlynn looked up at Soren as she pointed to the boys. Soren’s golden hazel eyes locked onto Ashlynn’s blue gray orbs and, like the striking of a match, realization struck him. Instantly, his eyes lightened and was replaced with something else – amusement. Ashlynn looked back to Dorian and Rey, pointing between either boy and then back to Soren as if she were some kind of wonky compass. “Hang on. Wait but… isn’t… Soren? He’s not…. Isn’t Soren your dad?”

Low rumbling shook the table from Ashlynn’s right, and she realized it was Soren stifling his laughter. Dorian and Rey both glanced at each other before sputtering and erupting into a fit of laughter of their own. It was as if Ashlynn couldn’t have told a funnier joke to these three. Embarrassment burned a hole through her cheeks and her ears as she looked from person to person in hopes someone – anyone – would offer an explanation.

Finally, it was Rey who spoke up, recovering enough to say something coherent.

“Soren’s not our dad!” Rey giggled. “He’s our brother!”

Ashlynn was absolutely gob smacked. She looked between the three, waiting for there to be some kind of punch line. When there was none, Soren stepped in and continued Rey’d explanation.

“Yeah, I’m their older brother. We had the same mom, but my dad passed when I was a kid and my mom remarried to their dad, who isn’t in the picture by the way,” said Soren. Ashlynn wasn’t sure what “in the picture” meant, considering there were no cameras or other hanging pictures around, but she focused instead on Soren’s next question. “So, this whole time, did you think I was their dad?”

Ashlynn felt her cheeks burn hotter as she nodded bashfully.

“I… I guess I just thought… and you were so good at taking care of… Never mind,” muttered Ashlynn.

The boys quieted their laughter and refocused on their dinner guest.

“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry Ashlynn,” mumbled Rey.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dorian added. “You didn’t know. We’re sorry.” Soren nodded in acknowledgement, agreeing with both boys. She looked up and saw no malice or taunt hiding in the boys’ faces. It was still embarrassing, but Ashlynn had to admit that she did find it a little funny. All this time, she’d just assumed that Soren was the boys’ father. Little quirks and things he would do, and their similarities and differences could all be explained away with that explanation.

Ashlynn realized a moment later that she was chuckling a little as well. “It’s okay,” she said earnestly. “To be fair, I thought it was weird that you two called Soren by his first name. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry for assuming.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Soren, his tone and countenance back to normal. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you two need to get to bed if we’re going sledding tomorrow.”

“And then it’s Christmas Eve!” Rey cheered, a little louder than Ashlynn would’ve liked. “Hey, Ashlynn, do you like Christmas? Did you ask Santa for anything? Is… OH! Is Santa like you? You know? Smaller?”

“Rey,” Dorian rolled his eyes, prompting the youngest brother to continue.

“What?! It would make sense. Fits down the chimney. Knows if you’re good or bad. Knows what you want for Christmas. Oh! Like an elf! Like one of Santa’s elves!”

Ashlynn was completely lost by Rey’s words. Santa? Christmas? She recognized the word “elf,” but wasn’t sure if it was a complement or not to be called one.

“You know Santa isn’t real, right?” stated Dorian in his matter-of-fact older sibling authoritarian tone.

“I know! But all of the stories have him normal sized, and maybe they have it wrong! Maybe whoever wrote those books made Santa be big with magic to keep people from looking for littler people living in the walls and floors and stuff. Wait, Ashlynn, you don’t have magic, do you?” asked Rey.

Ashlynn chuckled and shook her head, barely keeping her head above the surface of her swimming thoughts. “No… I don’t have magic. I’m just… me. What’s a ‘Santa’? And Christmas? Is that when you humans put up trees and leave out stuff for longer?”

This made Soren chuckle. “Yeah, basically. Christmas is a bit more than giving gifts though. It’s about celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth and spending time with friends and family remembering what’s important in life.” It was still so far above Ashlynn’s head that she felt like she was on the verge of drowning. At the same time, it made sense. Year after year, she’d seen humans gather together during the cold season for exactly what Soren described.

“Hey, Ashlynn? Could I ask you something next?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn directed her attention to the middle brother and nodded. “Um… you’ve said it a few times, but you’ve called us humans. I know that’s what we are, but then what does that make you? Are you not human?”

“Yeah, you look human. You’re a person, just like us. Is there a difference?” asked Rey. Dorian shot him a look, as if to say that his question should be first, before looking back at Ashlynn. The table once again fell silent, and Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer. Even Soren had directed his focus onto her and only her.

This is one of those questions about who and what I am. I don’t want to answer. It’s not directly asking what I am, but it’s close enough.

“I… I don’t… could you ask something different, please?” asked Ashlynn. Her legs pulled in closer, and it felt like her skin was tingling under the watchful gaze of the three boys. Both Rey and Dorian opened their mouths to protest, but Soren clearing his throat silenced them.

“We’ll have to save those questions for some time later. Now, hop to! Take your dishes to the kitchen and decide who is bathing first. It has to happen for both of you, so decide now. And, Ashlynn, if you don’t want to stay to do dishes, then I’ll wish you a good night,” stated Soren.

Saved!

Ashlynn nodded and smiled at the boys, who obviously looked disheartened that she didn’t want to answer their last question of the night. She crossed her legs and, in one fluid motion, twirled to her feet, earning a few “oohhs” from the boys. She snagged her hook from her hip and approached the ledge when, from behind, she heard Rey’s voice pipe up.

“Um… Ashlynn… do… do you need help? So you don’t have to climb down and back up?” The youngest’s question was genuinely out of concern, though it still made Ashlynn a bit uneasy. Still, he’d showed restraint, much like Dorian, and she was trying to demonstrate a bit of trust for the family of three.

The Borrower also remembered the last time she was in Rey’s hands, injured and ill. Was he looking for a chance to redeem himself? Or did he just want a chance to hold the tiny person again?

“I… um…” The boy’s eyes pleaded that she say “yes.”

“Rey, she might not feel comfortable with that,” stated Soren. The glance out of the corner of his eye was obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation or denial. Either way, it was a way for her to get out of being carried by a child.

But…

Rey was sweet.

He was kind.

It’s okay. I have to… no… I want to give a little. They’re inviting me into their home without anything in return. I don’t owe them anything, but this is something I can do to show the trust they’ve earned.

“It… it’s okay. Just… be careful. No sudden movements. Got it?” Ashlynn’s request was met with the delight of a thousand answered questions. Rey immediately hopped off of his chair and scurried over to the other side of the table where Ashlynn was standing. The child looked eagerly up at Soren, whose silent eye-language spoke volumes. Rey took a few calm breaths before slowly offering his hands for Ashlynn to stand on.

She could see the sauce stained fingers and the glint in those pale blue eyes that usually would’ve warded her away from such an interaction. Instead, she pushed through her discomfort and stepped forward onto Rey’s hand, ignoring the little excited inhale as she stood on his right palm and crouched.

“Over to the counter, please.” Ashlynn’s blood was roaring in her ears. She swallowed dryly as the hand beneath her jostled and Rey, as carefully as he could, shuffled his feet back over to the countertop. It was maybe five feet in total, just under two meters. It was still enough to make Ashlynn appreciate her autonomy and ability to choose.

Rey set her down without grabbing, pinching, tripping, petting, and every other horrible thing Ashlynn thought a child might be capable of. He was beaming and looking proud of himself, and Ashlynn had to admit that despite the age gap that Rey had almost given a smoother ride than Soren when he brought her to the countertop that day.

“Thanks, Rey.”

Ashlynn saw Rey’s entire body vibrate in a kind of full body wag before he replied. “You are so welcome, Ashlynn.”

Soren corralled his brother away from the countertop, Dorian close behind, as he waved goodnight to Ashlynn.

“Take whatever leftovers you’d like, and don’t be a stranger. Goodnight Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn watched the three brothers go, questions forming in her head about the three.

What was the story behind Rey and Dorian’s father? Why did Soren have that look on his face? She’d never seen him look so irritated and stoic with no gleam of care in those golden hazel orbs.

I might have to give some better answers if I want the answer to those questions; which, all in all, might not be a bad thing. Ashlynn thought as she packed up a few little pieces for a snack later and vanished back into the walls.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

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noahs-blue-jeans · 2 days ago

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Unspoken Moments

Desktop means title! this is a long one btw

I've been thinking about the unspoken moments between Byler which brings to mind that, for Season 5, they've cast young versions of Mike, Will, and Jonathan. I'm not the first to speculate that we'll be getting some Lonnie scenes, nor the first to probably suggest this, but I wanna parse it out anyway.

I think Mike and Will may have done something gay without realizing it, and Lonnie and Jonathan found them. Lonnie first, even. What could they have done? Any innocent thing lonely young gay boys would do: caught holding hands, sharing a space very closely (looking at Will's drawings in bed together perhaps). Any number of things that a fuck like Lonnie clocks as fag behavior.

And I think this could be the inflection point in both boys' sources of trauma, in regards to their internalized homophobia. A trauma that Mike took further to heart which didn't break until seasons 3 and sort of 4, when he becomes the way he is in those periods.

Parents are also, despite popular belief, not often stupid when reading their children. Lonnie is horrible and Ted Wheeler is a lame ass bitch, but they are still correct in clocking their sons' queerness the same as Joyce and Karen, who of course have a loving and accepting approach. Joyce is most explicit in accepting Will, and Karen gives Mike The Speech that many queer kids get from their well meaning parents, a big signal that she knows Mike loves will as more than just a friend.

Alongside this moment at 8 years old, I think both boys have become increasingly aware of how they behave with each other, and other moments may have happened off screen that we could see in S5 flashbacks.

Even in the 80s, little gay boys knew they are gay and liked their best friends. I have no doubt Mike--as much as Will--is aware that he loves his best friend romantically. You know how you feel about people, even at a young age, and in the moments of Mike's solitude, after spending time with El and playing at kissing, you cannot tell me he doesn't instead think about Will. That he doesn't think about when they'd play together, or watch movies just them, or when they would sit close and look at Will's drawing together. That fingers or knees would touch and they're too young to really notice the implications, but they know they like it and each other.

This, to me, adds to the many explanations for Mike's behavior in seasons 3 and 4, and why he begins to come around by the end of the latest season, since he's old enough to be physically unable to deny it anymore, and beginning to accept that he and El won't work because of how he feels about Will. I like to imagine that those few times Mike's calls got through, he and Will would exchange a few pleasantries but then they'd sit there in silence, not even realizing they're listening to the other's breathing. A tension felt across the continent, sure as the sun sets in the west.

This freaks them both out, we don't see it, and instead we see Will coming to terms with his feelings as best he can by way of The Painting; Mike, in contrast, puts on a false persona to hide from these feelings.

In conclusion! I think these two shared some unspoken, unseen moments that we will soon get in flashbacks and Vecna Visions, and we will see these boys go on the journey of accepting them and finding power in the love they've always shared.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler analysis #stranger things #stranger things s5

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foggynelsonslucioushair2 · 21 hours ago

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Tails

The dragon’s roar echoed through the tunnel as Bilbo fled along it, the panic in his mind blocking almost every other sensation. He almost cried in relief when a glimmer of daylight, so different than the flickering firelight he was leaving behind, appeared farther along the passage. The open door finally appeared as he turned the last corner, the light gloriously strong, and in the light stood a figure that Bilbo would know anywhere despite the strong light obscuring all of their features.

“Thorin!” he gasped, coming to a stop before him, putting his hands on his knees and pulling in thin breaths.

Warmth enveloped his shoulders, and Bilbo glanced to see Thorin’s hands resting there, strong enough to steady him yet gentle enough not to press down on his smaller frame. After the fear of the dragon, Thorin’s touch was even more welcome than usual, and Bilbo pressed his own hands to Thorin’s, finally looking up at the dwarf.

“Thorin, I’ve spoken to the dragon,” said Bilbo. “I managed to put him off his stride a bit, but it didn’t do much good. Not that I know much about dragons, but Smaug seems like he’s going to be a real challenge.”

Thorin’s eyes gleamed, and he nodded. “That he will be.” Thorin lifted his hands from Bilbo’s shoulders before drawing him forward. “You’ve done well. Come and rest. Bombur, some tea and food for Mister Baggins.” He glanced down at Bilbo again. “And Ori, where are those healing herbs and bandages?”

Bilbo found himself seated on a somewhat comfy log by the fire, in a seat partially sheltered from the winds that roared down the sides of the Lonely Mountain. The dwarves bustled around him, some clapping him on the shoulder as they passed by, others nodding at him from afar.

He was studying the flames and shuddering at the remembrance of the fire following him down the passageway when a bulky presence dropped next to him on the log, and he turned to find Thorin there, holding a bundle of bandages and herb concoctions. Wordlessly, Thorin took Bilbo’s closest hand, turning it over and rinsing off the scrapes with water. Bilbo stared at his own hand in Thorin’s, stiff and unsure. Thorin had never done this for him, nor for any other member of the company that he could recall. He had assumed that Ori would be the one bandaging him up.

Working carefully and competently, Thorin bandaged Bilbo’s hands and the bottoms of his feet, and the small cuts and scrapes on his face where he had bounced off the stone in his hurry to escape. Bilbo sat through it mostly silently, with as straight a face as he could manage. He could feel the glances of some of the other dwarves, although now they were keeping their distance, preparing the food and organizing the supplies, chatting and playing a bit of quiet music together.

He wasn’t paying complete attention when Thorin took his shoulders and turned him slightly away, but he jumped when he felt a soft touch on his tail. Bilbo gave a yelp and leapt to his feet, then froze in place. He could feel every eye in the camp now on him, and he slowly turned to face Thorin, who thankfully looked more worried than stunned. “The burns are fairly bad, Mister Baggins, and I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but I promise that this salve will soothe them in no time.”

Bilbo felt himself begin to stammer, and took Thorin’s assumption as the safest explanation he could offer. He couldn’t for the life of him bring himself to admit what touching a hobbit’s tail meant in his culture, not with all the dwarves’ attention on himself and their king. “Oh… Oh, yes, it did hurt… I’m sorry for startling.” He forced himself to sit back down, and although everything within him was screaming worse than it had been when he faced Smaug, he sat still and calm while Thorin once again took hold of his tail, this time even more gently.

The salve did indeed burn for a moment where it touched the burns, but then there was a cooling relief. Bilbo could hardly believe how gentle Thorin’s calloused hands were on his tail. He’d seen the king wield swords and paddles, occasionally cook by the fire, and steer ponies among the best of them. He could imagine Thorin’s hand swinging hammers and handling hot iron in the forge. But he could never have imagined, before this moment, the proud dwarf touching Bilbo with such tender care—and on his tail, no less!

As Thorin began putting the finishing touches on the bandaging, Bilbo had a momentary urge to tell Thorin that touching tails in such a way was only for close family or spouses, and would that mean that Thorin would be proposing marriage any time soon? Another unbelievable idea, so unbelievable that Bilbo chuckled to himself for a moment, trying to disguise it as a cough. Ever serious and concerned, Thorin released Bilbo’s tail and came to crouch in front of him.

“Did you inhale much smoke?” he asked. “It’s probably best if you try to stay out of the way of the smoke from the campfire.”

Thorin’s face so close to his, those steady blue eyes gazing into his own, those gentle hands hovering over Bilbo’s, were almost worse than the touches to his tail. Bilbo resolutely cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Thorin. I just need some water and some rest and I’ll be right as rain. After all, there is still a lot of work for this burglar left to do.”

Thorin looked at him silently for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. Which is why we need you in tip-top shape. I’ll leave you to it, Mister Baggins. I’ll have Bombur fetch you that tea and some water. Get some rest.”

And with those final words, Thorin was gone from Bilbo’s side, back to his usual self, issuing commands and standing around looking majestic and inspiring. Bilbo accepted the tea and water from Bombur and then was generally left alone to rest, which meant he was alone with his thoughts. Not that his thoughts were very scrutable at the moment. He felt a bizarre mixture of leftover fear from the encounter with Smaug mixed with pride at the skill and cunning he had hardly known he possessed. To face a creature so deadly and survive! Not many could say the same.

And then there was Thorin. Bilbo could still feel those phantom touches on his hands and tail. They made his chest feel warm and his cheeks hot, and Bilbo wasn’t sure he wanted to interrogate why. Especially after Thorin’s final dismissal. Of course, Thorin only saw Bilbo as the company’s burglar. He might appreciate Bilbo’s skills and see him as a valued companion, but there was doubtless no more than that. With all that already weighed on the dwarven king’s heart and mind—lost treasure, a stolen home, a company of dwarves to wrangle, a dragon to face—surely there was no room left to even consider, well, whatever it was that Bilbo was secretly yearning for in his heart.

Bilbo absentmindedly whipped his tail and winced at the pain that lanced through it. But the jolt helped him leave his wandering thoughts, and he shifted his mind to the dragon that lay in wait for them tomorrow. What Bilbo wanted could wait. First, they had an unwelcome house guest to get rid of.

#no beta we die like men #i'm so so late and so so slow at writing at the moment #but i am writing!#fanfic #hurt/comfort #i barely proofread this please i just needed it out of my drafts #bagginshieldtober #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield

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jeongteen · 2 days ago

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The pink haired knight and the blue princess | Caitvi Princess x Knight AU

Notes : Hi! So it's the first time I've written something in years! But I did this Caitvi Princess x Knight AU drawing and it inspired me to write a little something related to it <3

As I said, it's been years since I didn't write anything + English is NOT my first language, please be indulgent ahah

Also I'm sorry if anything doesn't make sense in terms of time period or if you think there is out of character behavior, I just tried to make something cute for our girls ahah

I also posted it on AO3 under the same username and title if you prefer reading there btw <3

Summary : When the princess Kiramman gets all flustered around a certain pink haired knight.

Words count : 1,6k

(dividers by cafekitsune)

Butterflies in the stomach. That's how Caitlyn Kiramman would describe what she felt when she first saw that one pink haired knight. It was 2 years ago, when her mother convened a part of their army at the castle. Caitlyn was pretty much unbothered, she saw a lot of people coming in and out of the castle every single day, she didn't pay much attention anymore. Yet, when that one knight removed her helmet, Caitlyn couldn't help but stare. She had bright pink hair, noticeable from afar. Of course, the pink haired girl had to greet the princess Kiramman, who would ignore the princess?

— Princess Caitlyn Kiramman? It's an honor. I'm Violet, but you can call me Vi, I would prefer that actually, if your majesty is content with it.

Caitlyn had a little blush growing on her cheeks, this girl, Vi, wasn't only extremely attractive, her voice, oh Lord her voice.

— It's an honor Vi. Caitlyn had a little smile on her face.

— If I may. Vi got on one of her knees, grabbed the princess' hand gently and dropped a small kiss on it before standing up again.

Caitlyn felt like her face was on fire. She was probably as red as an apple.

— Is your majesty flustered? Vi said that with a grin.

It seemed like she noticed the undeniable effect she had on the princess.

Caitlyn slightly raised her eyebrows at the knight's comment. You had to be bold to make such a joke to a member of the royal family. But Vi did it without an ounce of hesitation.

The princess chuckled a bit, it took a few seconds for the pink haired knight to wrap her around her finger, how crazy.

— "Your majesty" just didn't expect you to be such a flirt my dear.

It was Vi's turn to blush a bit. She didn't expect the princess to flirt back, but she liked it.

Then, it became such a game between those two. Everytime the army was convened at the castle, Vi would always make sure she'd be part of the lucky ones who'd get to go. Deep down, Caitlyn expected her to be here everytime. When their eyes met, they would have a little smirk growing on their face and they would play this flirty game, again and again.

At some point, they became frustrated. They only got a few minutes to share here and there, it was a little flirt but nothing more, yet, they could feel the tension between them. They weren't stupid, they knew that one day or another, they'd both need more than this little time.

So the two of them, without consulting each other, started thinking of a way they'd get to spend more time together. But this was easier for Caitlyn, as she was the princess she could request almost anything without it being questioned. Luckily, she was the one who was trying the hardest to find a plan. The true issue here is that most of the time, the army didn't stay for long at all, they had things to do and Cassandra wouldn't hold them back for too long. Vi would also get in trouble if she just stayed at the castle while the army went away, which had to be taken into consideration.

Caitlyn went the easiest way, asking her mother to hold them back a little longer at least once. She went to her mother, a little nervous, she wouldn't admit that she was head over heels for a knight she was only seeing five minutes each week. Not that Cassandra would care, but Caitlyn felt like this might be seen as weird and would rather not embarrass herself.

— Mother? I have a request. I-uh... Would like for you to hold back the army a little longer next time you conven them, please. She tried to sound as confident as she could in her words for no questions to be asked.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow and looked at her daughter.

— What is it about Caitlyn? You know they're quite busy, I wouldn't want to interfere with their duty.

— I know mother, I... Screw the embarrassment, she thought. There is a knight I'd like to talk to.

— Violet?

Oh.

— What? Caitlyn was quite surprised her mother caught their little game.

— Fine, I'll request for them to stay a bit more. Cassandra smiled and went back to her activities.

Caitlyn's face was probably bright red as she went back to her apartments. Well, she just said she wanted to talk with the knight, she didn't mention the fact she'd love to taste her lips and run her hands in her hair while doing so, why would she.

Days went by and Caitlyn was getting more and more excited to see her favorite knight. As she was looking through her window, she saw them from afar, the army was on the way. She hoped really hard that her mother didn't forget her little request. She joined her in a hurry, a rush of excitement running through her whole body.

Her mother addressed her a little smile and winked at her. That was her way of telling her daughter she remembered the request.

At first, it went as it always did. The little flirty game between the two women. But as Vi stood up, going to join the rest of the knights, ready to leave early as they always did, Caitlyn caught her wrist in her soft gloved hand.

— Wait. Would you like to spend a little more time with me? Caitlyn felt a heat rising in her cheeks.

Vi looked surprised.

— Oh I'd love to, but I guess we'll head back to work soon.

— Time won't be an issue today, I made sure. Caitlyn smiled and Vi still had a surprised expression on her face.

— If your majesty says so.

Caitlyn took Vi's hand in a delicate move and led her to her apartments. Vi couldn't believe it. Is she actually following the princess Kiramman to her bedroom? Well, seemed like a yes.

On their way, Vi couldn't stop looking around. She was amazed by the fancy decorations which were displaced a bit everywhere in the castle. Fancy ceilings, huge pieces of art hanging on the walls. Every single item looked more expensive than Vi's entire belongings. Usually, she would say it's such a waste of money, but today her heart was pounding way faster than usual at the idea of having free time with a gorgeous lady, she couldn't care less about a ceiling's price.

Arriving in front of a huge door covered in golden ornaments, Caitlyn let go of Vi's hand to push it, it seemed heavy. The two women entered the room before the princess closed the door carefully behind them.

Vi looked around, impressed. It looked as expensive as the rest of the castle but it had such a sweet touch to it. It was pretty much noticeable that the princess had her word to say on how the room was decorated. It was fancy yet quite simple, the main colors of the room were gold and blue just like the princess' dress. It was truly beautiful.

— Do you like it? Vi was interrupted in her thoughts by the other lady's question.

— Yes, it's really pretty, it suits you.

Caitlyn smiled and sat on the edge of her bed tapping on the mattress to request for Vi to join her, which she did.

— Is there any reason you requested me to follow you up here ? Vi asked with a little smile.

— Well I guess I grew some frustration by having so little time with you. I wanted to learn to know you more, to talk to you and maybe more.

"Maybe more"? Vi blushed but brushed it off immediate.

— Want to know me more? Hm, I'm Violet, I started working for Queen Cassandra around 2 years ago as a knight because I wanted to help my father with money. I have 2 little brothers and 2 little sisters, big family right? We struggle a bit, but everyone has food in their plate at the end of the day which is the most important part. And you princess, what should I know about you?

Caitlyn had a genuine smile on her face during Vi's whole answer. She was not just some attractive and flirty woman, she seemed to have a big heart, she liked that.

— I'm princess Caitlyn Kiramman... Since birth? She laughed. I'm an only child and I live here with my mother. I see a lot of people coming in and out of here but no one ever caught my attention. Not before you.

Vi raised her eyebrows.

— And how did I catch your attention? She was being flirty again, it was still their little game.

— Oh look at yourself. Those big blue eyes. This sweet smile. Those freckles. Those scars making you look bold. This attitude too.

— Oh. Seems like I have you all wrapped around my finger then. Vi was facing Caitlyn, her face moving a little closer to hers.

Caitlyn was all flustered but tried not to show it, at least not too much.

— You seem quite fond of me as well, right, Violet?

— Are you sure? What made you come to this conclusion? Vi was getting closer and closer to Caitlyn, the tension growing as well.

— I would say the fact your lips are getting closer to mine each second. So will you kiss me now?

Didn't take much for Vi to lock their lips together, one hand on Cait's cheek and the other on the mattress.

Cait was running her hands in Vi's already messy hair, just like how she portrayed it.

They broke the kiss gasping for air. Vi broke the silence, her forehead against the princess' one.

— Your lips taste sugary, like a cupcake.

Notes : First of all if you've reached this far thank you ahah <3 Just adding a little note to say I will soon start writing some character x reader one shots / headcanons <3 I will soon make a presentation post to update you on which characters I'll write about (my blog banner kind of gives a preview if you want) <3

#caitvi #Caitlyn #kiramman #vi #arcane #wlw #lesbian #princess x knight #fanart #art #drawing #alternative universe

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tickletastic · 2 days ago

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The Hawthorne Way

Fandom: The Inheritance Games

Ship: Libby/Nash

Summary: Being dangerously ticklish seems to be the Hawthorne way, and Nash is nothing if not a Hawthorne through and through.

“Lihibby- Libs no,” Nash huffs out, his low, Texan timbre rumbling in Libby’s ear. He’s trying really hard to keep up his whole cool as a cucumber act, but the twitching in his fingers gives him away. His hands, laid flat on Libby’s back, haven’t been still since she started her little game.

“What’s the matter?” Libby asks innocently, nuzzling her face into his neck. Her hands trace the contours of his hip bones under his shirt, fingers dipped under the waistband of his sweatpants. She digs in with a barely-there touch at the top of his hip, and he snorts, squirming minutely.

“You’re-” Nash grits his teeth when Libby starts to trace her fingers over his stomach, and Libby absolutely revels in it, “you’re a sadist.”

“I might be,” Libby takes her head off Nash’s chest so she can smile at him, blue hair falling in her eyes, “but at least I’m not a ticklish cowboy.”

Nash had held out a lot longer than Libby thought he would. She’s been a quiet observer for about a dozen Hawthorne tickle fights, and knew by now that his brothers couldn’t hold out for the life of them. Jameson’s the hardest to break of the other three, and all it takes with him is a taser to the ribs and he’s down for the count. Nash? Well, Nash is proving to be much better at this game than his brothers are, and Libby can’t help but realize she’s never seen the other Hawthornes take advantage of their older brother’s ticklishness.

She wouldn’t have gone into this blind, of course. She’s been watching. She’s been waiting.

She had heard the comments the other Hawthornes would make towards Nash when he tickled them. Wait until the three of us get the upper hand on you. You’re just as ticklish. Don’t pretend your ribs don’t make you shriek. All of these taunts aimed towards Nash, it was only reasonable that this would be the conclusion.

So here they are, midday cuddle session on the couch in one of Hawthorne House’s many lounges, Libby trying to get her cowboy to crack. But Nash is good. He’s really good. Years of being a big brother have helped him develop some defense mechanisms, like holding out for so long that the tickler gives up.

It’s a good thing Libby’s had years of being a big sister.

She stops teasing Nash, her head returning to its place on his chest, her fingers going still at his sides. She is patient. She knows how to wait someone out. When Nash starts absentmindedly humming and playing with her hair, she waits. When one episode of Grey’s Anatomy rolls into the next one on the flatscreen, she waits. When Nash starts to draw shapes on her back, she waits. She waits until she finally hears the familiar sound of his breath evening out, his fingers relaxed on her back in a way that she knows means he’s on the edge of sleep.

Libby might be sunny, but she’s never been above being a little bit evil.

With renewed vigour, she claws both hands into Nash’s ribs with her long, freshly manicured nails, and scratches up and down in unpredictable spurts. Nash flinches, and she can feel the way his shoulders tighten, and how his hands on her back spasm.

He had been lulled into a false sense of security, but he doesn’t have time to complain, or, more accurately, congratulate her on such a slick move.

Grayson was right; going for his ribs does make Nash shriek.

“Lihihibs!” Nash screeched, squirming underneath her, “noho!”

Nash is trying to curl in on himself, bringing his elbows to his sides in an attempt to block out Libby’s practiced fingers, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Libby that he’s not actively pushing her off, that his hands are still gripping her biceps without pushing her away

“Lihihibby! Bahaby, noho!” Nash squeals when she manages to wedge her fingers, delicate and graceful, between their bodies. The front of his ribs don’t get quite the same reaction as the sides, but Libby thinks she’s getting warmer when her fingers go lower to tickle his toned tummy.

“What’s the matter?” Libby whispers teasingly, pushing herself up with her elbows so she can whisper it closer to his ear, “a little bit of tickling isn’t bothering you, is it, darlin’?” She drops the ‘g’ in a vague imitation of Nash’s accent, of what he loves to call her, and she notices the way the flush spreads up his neck.

When her fingers finally touch his tummy, Nash arches his back, a choking, sputtered laugh forcing its way from his lips. She can tell from the tension in his hands how hard he’s trying not to squeeze her, he would never hurt her, even when he’s lost his pride to Libby’s incredibly skilled fingers.

“Plehease babygihihirl! Ihihit- no- fuhuhuck!” Nash makes a sound that Libby’s certain she’s heard from all three of the other Hawthornes at some point while observing their tickle fights– that adorable half-whine half-scream heard only when a Hawthorne is getting their belly tickled. All of them, with their entirely different laughs and personalities, and yet none of them can quite handle that one spot.

“You Hawthornes,” Libby giggles, skittering her long nails up and down Nash’s sides, “you’re all the same.”

Nash is giggling in a way Libby has never heard him before. Every time Nash laughs it’s booming belly laughter, deep and rumbly, and almost always brief, or wry. These giggles are airy and desperate, peppered with snorts in between, and they make him sound, and look, a lot younger.

“You’re so ticklish,” Libby teased, her voice a low hum of amusement. “Who would’ve thought? Mr. Calm and Collected, all serious and mysterious, but then… this.”

“Shuhut up!” Nash shouts on instinct, before correcting his own manners “wahait! I dohohon’t mehean that. Sohohorry prihihincess.”

It’s a miracle Nash is managing speech at all in his state– torso now halfway off the couch from his bucking, one hand on the floor to brace for impact– let alone have enough of his senses intact to apologize for responding rudely to Libby’s taunts. Libby kind of wishes he hadn’t; in their entire time knowing each other she has never seen him so out of control, but now she’s seen too much, and she’s addicted to watching him come undone from something as simple as her nimble fingers on his torso.

She feels high off of his laughter and the image of his red face, eyes closed and laughter lines visible, and it makes her lightheaded, like she imagines the whole thing is making him too.

Her devious fingers dig into his hipbones, and he warns her seconds too late.

“No Lihihibby nohot there!” There’s an urgency in his voice that she finally understands once they’re suddenly on the carpet, next to each other now instead of her head on his chest, and she digs in again, chasing the just a little bit more.

The sounds of his heels digging into the floor is much louder than it had been on the couch, with the hardwood floors protected only by the thin carpet. He doubles over unsuccessfully, but Libby stops when she can hear his voice getting hoarse, and notices that he’s struggling to get out all of his begs and pleads.

When her fingers release him, his body relaxes against the floor, chest huffing in and out with leftover giggles. He throws an arm over his face, motioning with the other hand for Libby to come over to him.

She lays her head on his chest, returning to their earlier position, still just as comfy though now on the ground, and she listens as his breathing returns to normal. He moves his arm just a little bit, so he can send her a glare with no heat behind it.

Libby laughs, and swats his arm, “it’s not like you tried to stop me.”

Nash’s regular lopsided grin returns, smug, self-satisfied, sexy, “gotta let my princess have some fun.”

#i did NOT proofread this #because then it wouldn't come out for another month and a half probably #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #libby grambs #libbynash #ticklish!nash #lee!nash #ler!libby

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illumiera · 2 days ago

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WIP Wednesday

thank you for the tags, @theoneandonlysemla, @sanza-17, @sulphuricgrin, @lathez, @elavoria, and @pinessydr! 💖

this week, I have both a writing and an art WIP to share! first, an excerpt from the next chapter of i fear no fate (for you are my fate), featuring Elentari and Miraak having something of a Realisation:

“All this time, I thought it was a god,” he whispers, and far from breaking, the spell shivering around them strengthens so that his hushed words come rushing out in one breathless flood. “Dibella, I thought, because—because I saw—because how could it not have been—” And then he opens his close-clasped hands to reveal the familiar object sitting between his palms, and her heart leaps into her throat as her gaze alights on the tiny wooden statuette she’d found hidden in the breast pocket of his ruined robes. “I carved—I carved this for her, you see, in the image of the one who saved me, and it was her face, hers and no other, that I held in my mind whenever I worshipped in her name.” Miraak extends his hands to her, his palms up as though in offering. With renewed care, Elentari accepts the little figurine and brings it to her chest so as to look upon it with fresh and half-disbelieving eyes. She is nowhere near so vain—and nowhere near so blasphemous, she who kneels, perfumed and smiling, at the lily-strewn altar whenever her duties take her to stony Markarth—as to presume herself an equal in beauty to the Queen of Heaven, but as she sees for the first time her likeness in the statuette’s delicate form, she wonders how she ever managed not to notice it before. It’s there—she’s there—in the loose-curled waves of hair adorned with a tumble of impossibly dainty flowers, and in the small, dimpled smile that curves the full lips like a bow. She’s even there in the lyre the goddess holds in her slender, fine-boned hands, for its near-twin, her own beloved instrument, perches on a shelf just across the room. There are some stories, Elentari knows, that speak of how Dibella appears with silver moth’s wings billowing behind her, or as blind as love itself, or in an aspect as rose-golden as a summer sunrise, clad in shimmering pink silks, and trailing lotuses and lilies and sweet spring blooms with every step. Other accounts suggest that when she shows herself to mortals, she does so as a shapeshifter of sorts, her image the embodiment of whatever the viewer finds most lovely in all the world: no matter whether she comes clothed or bare, slight or plump, aglow with youth or bright with wisdom, there are tales upon tales of the devout being driven to tears of joy from a single glimpse. Whatever the truth is, she saved a drowning boy who became a man who took her features for those of his goddess and carved them into wood. He carved them into wood, into a statuette the size of a secret, and carried it beside his heart for four thousand years, through the worst of the cult, through the depths of Apocrypha, through death and resurrection, through time itself. Her, all along.

...and then I also have an updated WIP of my drawing of these two as Klimt's "The Kiss", because Ellie is now fully lined and I just have Miraak (and his big ol' mane of hair) to do before I can get to colouring:

no-pressure tags: @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @lilarus @miraakulous-cloud-district @bostoniangirl21 @madam-whim @bougainvillea-and-saltwater!

#wip wednesday #oc: elentari #miraak #i fear no fate (for you are my fate)#tesblr #writing

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itsnesss · 5 hours ago

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okay so namgyu x reader bathroom scene but like INTENSE

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 | nam-gyu (player 124) × fem!reader

summary | the request. you're in a secluded bathroom, looking for respite amidst the chaos of the game. an unexpected connection emerges, an unspoken desire that turns into an intimate encounter

warnings | smut with some plot, explicit content, tension, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Silence surrounds you, only interrupted by the faint sound of water droplets falling from the taps. The cold walls seem to watch you in their solitary stillness. You have tried to forget the brutality you experienced in the game, but your thoughts remain trapped in it. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the internal chaos that keeps growing.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaks open. A man enters, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light, but you instantly recognize Namgyu. The same serious face, the penetrating gaze that you haven't been able to ignore since you arrived at this place.

"What are you doing here?" His voice, deep and low, blends with the somber atmosphere.

You turn towards him, shrugging your shoulders. "The same as you, I suppose... looking for some peace".

For a moment, both remain silent, sizing each other up, the air thick with palpable tension. There is something in his presence that provokes you, something in his eyes that captivates you, but you don't fully understand it.

"It doesn't seem like you're finding peace here, does it?" The sarcasm peeks through in his voice, but there's something else, something warmer lurking beneath the surface.

"Maybe... I'm not looking for peace". You respond, feeling how your words are filled with something more, something you cannot deny. A desire, perhaps.

"And what is it that you're looking for then?" Namgyu takes a step towards you, the distance between you two decreases. The look he gives you is direct, fearless, as if he were undressing you with his eyes.

Your heart begins to race, but you manage to stay steady. "I don't know.I don't know. Maybe... something different".

The room seems to close in around them, and the atmosphere grows denser. Their breath intertwines with yours, both of you aware of the tension growing between you. The sparkle in his eyes reflects something you can't identify, but it gives you a flutter in your stomach.

"Something different?" Her voice becomes softer, a whisper that blends with the sound of running water. "And what if I give you what you're looking for?"

Time seems to stand still. You look at her lips for a second, then you meet her eyes. The question hangs in the air. What if he gives you what you're looking for? The moment stretches, and before you can process it, his hands are around you, holding you gently.

Without thinking, you lean towards him. The brush of your lips against his is a gentle collision, a first contact full of doubts but also of a palpable electricity. It's a kiss without promises, just a spark that jumps in the midst of the darkness.

The intensity of the moment grows, and with it, your thoughts fade away. Namgyu's hands slide down your waist, drawing you closer to his body. You feel his warmth, the rapid beating of his heart against yours, and everything you have been suppressing, everything you have been searching for, seems to find a place in this moment.

"Don't think about it". His voice glides like a whisper between your lips, an invitation you don't know whether to reject or accept. Just let it flow, let it happen.

And something in your eyes, in your gaze, must give him an answer. His arms wrap around you, and he launches himself to kiss you more forcefully, his tongue exploring yours. The kiss deepens, their movements become more urgent and frantic, but always gentle. The accelerated breathing, the sound of your mouths together, the tension between you.

Without realizing it, you find yourself surrounded by their arms, trapped in a tight embrace. Their touch sends shivers down your spine, and only the sound of intertwined breaths fills the room. You feel the beat of his heart against your chest, the ragged breath that matches yours. There are no thoughts, no fear or insecurity. There is only one moment.

"Do you want this?" Her question fills the space between you. "Do you want this to happen?"

The answer is not on your lips, but in your eyes. There is something inside, an answer that only someone who knows you well can read. And Namgyu does, he reads it and understands it.

"Yes" You understand that it is a response stronger, more powerful than any word. The answer in your eyes is that of a need you haven't been able to suppress for so long. The answer to a suppressed desire.

And with her, the silence is broken. Her lips brush against yours again, but this time it's different. It's a stronger, more passionate kiss, a flame that begins to burn within him and seeks to do the same to you. His fingers caress your skin, exploring it and feeling the tension in your muscles.

"I'm sorry...". His hand stops on your hips, the other on your neck. "I'm sorry, every time I look at you... I'm sorry since the first time I saw you".

Her voice makes you stop, makes you realize how much you've been pretending. How much you have been deceiving yourself. How long have you been trying to convince yourself that you didn't feel anything, that it was just the game that made you see things that way? But no. It was him. His gaze, his eyes, his touch...

The truth is that you have been waiting for this to happen for a long time. Even though you didn't accept it, even though you refused to believe it. But here it is happening. And you can't stop it.

His fingers make you shiver as they brush against your nipples, sending a new sensation coursing through your entire body. A shiver that makes you arch your back, a moan that escapes your lips without you being able to stop it.

"Nam..." The voice barely comes out of your throat. The emotion is so strong that you find it hard to articulate the word.

"Yes?" Her response is a gasp, as if the touch of her fingers on your skin made her feel the same.

"Namgyu..." Your name is more than a question. It is a request, a pleading whisper.

The response translates into a soft laugh, a smile that forms on your lips. "I know, I know."

There are no more words. Touch translates into something more, a movement that translates into caresses and kisses. His hands slide down, towards your hips, towards your crotch. His fingers brush over your pussy, pressing it through your clothes, making you gasp with a pleasure you can barely contain. The sensation is so strong, so palpable, that you can feel your fingers stiffening on his hips.

"Nam..." You repeat his name, a pleading supplication to something you cannot name.

The answer is the one you expect. His fingers slide under your clothes, probing the wet and hot pussy. The touch is like lightning that completely electrocutes you, a pleasure that makes you lose your balance. You clutch his body, wrapping your legs around his hips. The touch of his fingers, moving inside you, makes your senses overflow, turning everything into an intense and pleasure-filled moment.

"Nam..." his name escapes your lips like a gasp, faster and faster. "Namgyu, Namgyu..."

The answer is a smile. "Say it, say my name." The command sounds soft, but as strong as the sensation that runs through your body.

And you obey. His name comes out of your lips again and again, as the pleasure grows and grows, as Namgyu's fingers caress your pussy with faster and stronger movements. And when everything overflows, when all the pleasure bursts out of you like an explosion, his arms hold you tightly, as if they were the only ones keeping you grounded.

The moment is filled with your gasps, your moans, the movements of his fingers inside you.

It's as if pleasure has completely exploded inside you, a fire that burns you from head to toe. But it is a pleasure that is not painful, that is not something you have to get used to. It is an intense and passionate pleasure that fills you completely.

"Namgyu..."

The name slips from your lips when everything ends, when your moans turn into slow, ragged gasps. His arms close around you, cradling you against his chest. Both of your breaths intertwine in a slow and steady rhythm, the only sound that breaks the silence.

However, it doesn't end there. Namgyu keeps kissing you before pulling down his pants and boxers. His erection stands before your eyes, large and thick. Instead of inserting it, he caresses it against your pussy, as if it were a dildo. Until she manages to insert it all the way to the hilt.

The pleasure returns instantly. The gasps mix with their ragged breaths. The sex is intense, frantic. His movements are quick, each one translating into a louder gasp on your lips.

Your breathing is rapid, his is too. The sounds of bodies colliding, the damp touch of their skins.

You don't know which is more intense. If the sensation of feeling him inside you or the touch of the wet pussy that beats against his glans. Whatever it is, it makes him enjoy it a lot, because he fills you more and more with his cock until you think you can't take it anymore and explode.

The two of them collapse on the floor, exhausted but satisfied. You don't know how long it took you to get to that point, but you feel like you've been there for a long time.

Namgyu starts to gently caress your pussy and you manage to have another orgasm.

After that, he also comes, but inside you.

"You are so hot". Namgyu whispers between your lips.

"And you too". You blush a little while stroking his cheeks.

#squid game smut #squid game 2 #squid game #squid game x reader smut #squid game x you #nam gyu squid game #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu #namgyu smut

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