#one of the incredibly few times in my life where i have in dream gone Well hold on now. I Don't believe this happened. Curious...

[tkachukisms]

just had a dream where the jets shut out edm and won 16–0 ... ? incredibly interesting implications. really want to live in that world for a minute

[hughjackmansbicep]

The Seamstress

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: Youre a seamstress and he seems to have an endless supply of holey clothes....

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: None :D

a/n: haiiiiii ive always loved this trope in fics !!! tehe!! srry for not writing much recently i got fired from my job LOL anywayssss... i was listening to the smiths writing this unrelated but related.

Most days bled together, the same mundane routine playing out in front of you each day. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat takeout, and pass out to some soap opera. Currently, the highlight of your life was finding out what was going to happen next on The Days of Our Lives. You were a seamstress in the middle of Manhattan; you owned a small shop off 64th, and although you were living out your dream, nothing excited you anymore. Every task felt exhausting; you couldn't even find passion in sewing anymore. That was until he stumbled into your shop.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you'd be able to sew this up for me.” He grumbled, holding up what appeared to be some yellow and blue jumpsuit. You'd almost forgotten to respond, completely captivated by his sheer beauty. His gorgeous face, chiseled body, kitty-like hair, and you can't forget the unusual yet totally working for him mutton chops. “U-um, ahem, yeah, I totally could.” You manage to choke out, reaching for the clothing item. “How long do you reckon it'll take?” You examine the clothing carefully; it's decorated with rips and holes everywhere. He's lucky if I can get this finished by the end of the week, “Tomorrow.” Your mouth moves quicker than your brain can. “Cool, I'll come by at 10? Is that alright?” He asks, slowly backing out of the shop, his eyes never leaving you. ‘10am? I can't begin to do that either; I mean, I wouldn't get to sleep tonight’. “Yep! See you at 10!” Cure that mouth of yours; you give him a smile and an awkward wave as he makes his way out the door.

You blow your breath out as if you'd been holding it the entire time, sinking down into your chair. You silently cursed at yourself for agreeing to such a stupid timeframe, but this meant you could binge Days of Our Lives tonight, so maybe it wasn't half bad.

The rest of the day went just as you expected. A couple hems, a few cinches—nothing out of the ordinary apart from the comic book cosplay you agreed to revive back to life. It was currently 3 o’clock in the morning; you'd been sitting there sewing the garment for 7 hours. Honestly, you'd been making great time; you were so close to finishing, maybe 20 stitches left total. Somewhere between the last stitch and a doctor getting slapped, you'd passed out on your living room floor.

You'd awoken to the feeling of your feline licking your cheek, causing you to immediately shoot up off the floor. Your eyes frantically searching for a clock, the power Must’ve gone out sometime around 5 in the morning because that's all you saw flashing back at you on the stove. In a frenzy, you started throwing random clothes on, praying they'd match, shoving the costume in a garment bag, and running out the door. Thats when you finally looked down at your phone, seeing the time read 10:03, “God damnit.” You whined under your breath. Your shop was only a couple blocks away, but that was still a 15-minute walk, so you sprinted. You probably looked like a complete lunatic, but you couldn't care less right now. The incredibly hot customer probably waiting outside your doors was the utmost important thing on your mind.

Dripping in sweat and hyperventilating as you turned the corner to where your shop was, you saw him just as you thought you would. Leaning up against the door, one arm crossed over his torso as he took a drag from his cigar with his other. God, he looked heavenly, and you... Well, maybe not your best day, but definitely not your worst. “Hey, sorry I'm late.” You breathed out, hands resting on your knees as you caught your breath. “But I've got your thingy.” You hold the garment bag up; he just furrows his eyebrows at you, cocking his head to the side. His silence makes you feel more embarrassed than you already do. You get up to unlock your doors, ushering him to follow you inside.

You check him out at the register; the only words being exchanged were the cost of the repairs and where he can tap his card. He walked out with a smile and a nod, a soft ‘Thanks’ escaping his lips before the door shut. You throw your head in your hands, feeling shame wash over you. You were hoping and praying he was going to leave his number on the receipt, but obviously he did not. I mean, why would you have had him waiting and showed up looking like a complete mess? Not very good looks. You simply had to chop it up as a loss and return back to the mundaneness of your life.

The very next morning, though, he was here again, this time holding an old brown jacket. He'd said there was a small hole in the pocket he wanted fixed. This time it only took you all 20 minutes. You asked him to wait upfront as you brought the jacket to the back to repair it. When you returned, you checked him out the same as before, and he left exactly the same as before. This became an everyday routine for the two of you. Every day he'd walk in with some worn-out article of clothing asking you to stitch it up; you always obliged, even if the clothes looked and smelled like they came from 1987. You always did wonder how this guy had so many ripped-up clothes just lying around, and why wouldn't he just bring them in all at once?

This charade had been going on for 2 weeks now when you finally decided to break from your usual script of ‘thank you, come again’. “Why is everything you own torn apart? Is everything okay back home?” You asked as he slipped his card into the machine. You could see the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to hide a smirk creeping its way on his face. “You want me to be honest with you?” He looked up at you, pursing his lips together in a thin line. You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue, “I honestly thought you were gorgeous when I first walked into your shop.” Now your cheeks started burning red as your eyes went wide. “So every day since then I head into Goodwill and find anything I can with a hole in it so I can find an excuse to come see you.” This was the first time you'd ever seen this man avoid eye contact with you. You couldn't find your words as your throat had gone dry. He was into you??? And here you were this whole time thinking you ruined your shot (and that he was homeless, but you weren't going to tell him that). 

"Well, say something.” He exasperated, snapping you out of your daze. “I honestly don't know what to say; I’m shocked. I get off at 6 if y’know... You wanted to grab something to eat?” You offer awkwardly, smiling through the pain of how anxious you sounded. He looks up to you finally meeting your gaze, a soft smile painted on his lips. “Ill be here to pick you up at 6 doll.” He grabs your hand, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckle. He walked out the door, leaving you in utter shock and denial for the rest of your shift.

hi ps u can always request me shtuff to write! :3

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

one free pass for the grumpy!logan and overprotective brother!wade plot bunny 🤝🐇

"So," Vanessa hummed, watching you stir pans, "how was the date you went on?"

"He stood me up," you shrug. "I did get some really good gyoza though-"

"Sweetie."

You shrug again. "It's not the first time. And let's face it. It won't be the last. I write romance books. I don't live them."

Vanessa gave you a look but kept her commentary to herself. The last few years had been hard on everyone. You'd thought your big brother was dead right along next to her. You'd been in the thick of it even though you were trying to start college. Still just a kid. And in a lot of ways you were her rock- and a link to Wade when he was gone.

"I don't want to spend my whole life like our mom. Just like Wade doesn't want to be our dad, Nessa." You shake your head like you're banishing a thought and turn off the stove. "Let's fucking eat. I'm starving."

"This looks incredible. I have sex dreams less erotic than this."

"I heard that, Ow," Wade said, clutching his heart.

Vanessa shrugged and poured stroganoff into a bowl before shoving it into his hands, "Go be useful. Y/N did the hard part."

"Logan," you call, "I know you probably don't do wine, I got beer if you want that instead?"

"I uh- thanks," he said, shuffling to the table, offering Trigger his hand to smell when the dog shot him a look. He sniffed it and shot him a distinctly dirty look before walking away to re-glue himself to your side. Good dog, he thought.

"No assigned seating here, Logi-bear," Wade said, taking a seat next to Vanessa as he finished putting portions on plates- leaving Logan nowhere to sit but next to you since he'd put Mary in the other empty spot.

He nodded and pulled out a chair and looked towards the kitchen. He could hear you still rattling around and the sound of a knife slicing through something. And then a clatter "Fuck!"

Wade was out of his seat in a second and in the kitchen, "What'd you do- Holy shit biscuits!"

"It's fine I just-"

"Where d'you keep you towels?" he asked, rifling through the drawers and throwing things around.

"Next to the sink, Christ, it's not that bad-"

When you walk around the corner with Wade's arm around your shoulder, Logan blinked, blood-spattered your shirt and your pants. For "Not that bad" it looked like you might have cut your fucking hand off.

"I'll get some Ice," Vanessa said, standing up, "Logan, keep pressure on that for a second?"

Logan nodded, "Easy bleeder?" he ventured. You weren't phased enough about it for this to be new.

You nod and sigh, letting him look at your hand. "I've done worse," you muse. "He's so fucking dramatic." A thud makes you look away from the wound and Logan wrapped it to press on it carefully. "I swear if they're fucking in my kitchen again-"

"We're not," Vanessa said returning with an icepack, "I dropped the ice cream trying to find the ice."

"And Wade is-"

"Debating on if You'd want the staple gun or just super glue," he answered.

"There's bandages under the sink you degenerate!"

"Ooo, secrets," Wade said, dropping the stuff he was holding and heading towards the bathroom.

"Nessa," you plead.

"I'll go get him," she said rolling her eyes.

Logan exhaled through his nose and adjusted the ice on your hand. "I think you'll live, kid."

"Probably. I can hold this, your dinner is getting cold-"

Logan snorted, "Not a complete animal. Wouldn't be polite to eat while my hostess is bleeding out."

[triangle-tumor-manifesto]

My nickname is Silver Cipher.

I am 19 years old, and I’ve been diagnosed with Stage 4 Signet Ring Cell Adenocarcinoma of the Appendix. My dream is to have Alex Hirsch sign my cancer journal.

Gravity Falls has been a huge help since the release of The Book of Bill, and has been a huge comfort to me during my cancer fight. It has helped me emotionally more than I can express. The idea came from one of my friends, who drove to meet me before even knowing my name. They suggested I try to get a signature from Alex Hirsch. This is just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all.

I meant for this to be an incredibly put-together message, but “Nothing in life makes sense, so you might as well make nonsense!”

Ford’s fight with Bill hits so goddamn hard. Chemo has just carpet-bombed my memory to the point where I completely black-out at times. During my 72-hour straight IV drip, I wake up to finding stuff I’ve done that I would NEVER do. I wrote things that I would never write. I drew things that I would never ever draw. The most notable drawings I have done are focused around the Eye of Providence and are surrounded—from top to bottom—by code I am still deciphering. This is terrifying to me and makes me feel like a spectator in my own body. Every single time it happens, it always takes me off guard no matter how prepared I think I am…

Chemo Me VS Regular Me Art (think you can figure out which is which??? -△)

However, the reason why I’m not quite as paralyzed with fear as I was is that whenever shit hits the fan, as embarrassing as it is to admit, to comfort myself I think about Stanford Pines. I think about how at the end of a long and hard battle with something indescribably wicked, he learned to trust people and got the support he needed. The path he treaded was full of pain, blood, and tears but he made it. The survival rate for my stage of cancer is catastrophically low on paper, but 6 is my lucky number. You can guess the reason, or I seriously question how you got into Gravity Falls in the first place!

I live and breathe this show, I live and breathe what Stanford Pines has gone through. I just need to make it past Weirdmageddon.

We appendix cancer patients have this crazy surgery which is known in the medical community as the “Mother of All Surgeries.” Most surgeons refuse to attempt it because of a lack of proven studies due to how few of us there are and how little research there is. The small sample size often causes it to be considered a crazy borderline pseudoscience! But it works. I know this because every Appendix Cancer survivor I met at our Pseudomyxoma peritonei (it’s shortened to PMP) Pals group introduces themself and then says that they owe their new lengthened life to as I like to put it, “Our Surgeon Soulmate”. This is my Weirdmaggedon.

HIPEC (the aforementioned surgery, Hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy) involves cutting open the sternum to the groin, scooping out every single organ that isn’t necessary for survival, filling the space with liquid chemo, and then sloshing you around a little on the table so it all sets in (like a little cancer smoothie). Then they’ll drain it all out, sew you up, and wake you up. (I drew Ford doing it while on chemo—you can see it in the Imgur link-I also have zero memories of this, and it's hilarious-you gotta laugh at the pain or you will cry) The only way to relieve the crippling pain besides exceeding a survivable dose of painkiller is to get up. You have to get up and walk—I mean laps around the ICU. I’ve done it. The laps at least. All the hundred-some people at the conference have. It hurts like crazy but the only way to get better is to fight through it. It's either fight or die.

Welp! There’s your summary of puppet hour with Silver, and my own personal metal plate.

I have the proof to back this up, as I have been living with this since my diagnosis in March. Knowing all of you, some of you may have taken “Trust No One!” to heart, which is legitimate for a post like this. This was just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all. I've censored my personal information, and pictures I'm sending, as well as my face and my father's face. I'm also adding some of the art that I've done on chemo.

PROOF: https://imgur.com/a/ljb98NL

Attached is all the preliminary proof I’m willing to let anybody and everybody see. It’s a mix of identity-confirming photos, people I care about, art that I made while on chemo to help get me through it, proof of my hospital stays and pictures of me during hospital chemo, as well as a picture of myself on chemo simply so you can see how much it takes out of me from those early on photos of me from my tumor removal surgery to today. That was round six. Now I’m in the middle of round twelve: my last one. Before my final battle with Cipher, I’m hoping I can get my personal chemo Journal signed by Hirsch, at the very least. And if the guy wants to join the stream and hear my pretty decent Ford impression, well…who am I to complain? Alex if you're reading this, even if you can’t sign my book, I’d love for you to read the journal entry I wrote addressed to you. I sent my friend Alia to NYCC with a cut-out journal page for you to sign, with this letter to be read, but it didn’t end up working out. Even so, it would mean so much to me if it made it to you somehow.

Hopefully, this gets a shitload of views and reposts that find their way to Alex. As a bonus (some of you are going to adore this) I am going to link a Twitch fundraiser for Appendix Cancer in the post as well, and do a live stream of an ENTIRE reading of a Mystery Fanfic with me as Ford and an absolutely amazing Bill impersonator- @weasel!!! @_<;;! I bet you are so curious, knowing this server. “Come on Fordsy, don’t you want to take my hand? Just say the word!”

Art done by @🐔mother hen goblin🐔

We had this art piece made to promote the stream! Heed the warnings! Also, depending on the VA's endurance, I will also host an open mic for people to share their love of Gravity Falls and their reasoning for helping me.

The Twitch stream will begin on △ 10/26/2024 6:00PM EST.

△ If you cannot make this-never fear! It will all be recorded for your future viewing pleasure. This exact time is subject to change, please check back the day of to make sure that this stays the same.

Twitch Stream Link: triangle_tumor - Twitch

Donation Link: https://pmppals.net/silvers-triangle-tumor/…

I hope to see as many of you as possible present in the stream. This fanfiction means so much to so many of us. Both Bill and Ford's relationship in canon and especially in this fic encapsulates the visceral horror, suffering, and trauma that comes with going through chemo and beating the ⭐⚡#💀＄out of the triangle tumor. I am also getting OFFICIALLY endorsed by r/Gravity Falls as well as PMP Pals (An Official Appendix Cancer Organization) for this fundraiser.

I cannot tell you how absolutely hyped I am for everything going down.

Pleasepleaseplease join the stream if you can, and for SURE blow up this Reddit post! Thank you all so much for being a part of this and helping me through my fight.

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Silver Cipher △

P.S. FUCK Cancer

SOCIALS/OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Triangletumor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/triangletumormanifesto/?next=%2F

Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/triangle_tumor

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@TriangleTumorManifesto

[fizzyxcustard]

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony. 

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you. 

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head. 

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses. 

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that. 

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door. 

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.  

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you. 

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily. 

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind. 

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard. 

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring. 

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked. 

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.” 

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?” 

“How did you know about it?” 

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.” 

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing. 

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed. 

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth. 

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it. 

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you. 

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding. 

He whispered your name, needing you. 

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.” 

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic. 

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well. 

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second. 

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you. 

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him. 

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped. 

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.” 

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm. 

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.” 

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.” 

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.” 

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.” 

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @luna-xial @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers @ourlonelymountain @phantomessangel @estethell @windb3ll

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @emmyspov @dumbassunderthemountain @braidedheart

Middle-earth tag list: @mismaeve @sotwk @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

Special tag for this fic: @kurlyfrasier @littlesweetdressmaker

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon – Losing Their Virginity

As much as I appreciate that a lot of the NSFW writing on here portrays the guys as being absolute experts at sex… they had to start somewhere. That is where these come in. Keep in mind they are all above 18 and paired with female characters written in a third-person POV. I am going to write one for each of the brothers. Mikey is first because he is my favourite.

Aged-up TMNT at least 18.

18+ Readers only. Contains sexual content

Raph's Story

Leo's Story

Donnie's Story

Mikey's Story

Mikey is not only the first of his brothers to get an actual girlfriend, but he ends up being the first to officially lose his virginity. It happens when he’s 18. Mike was actually pretty well-known in the party scene. Patrolling every night and saving innocent bystanders did have its advantages sometimes. Mikey sometimes would stay out until three, four, sometimes five in the morning, much to Leo’s frustration from having his sleep-deprived brother join them for morning practice.

This is where he meets her. Like him she was a free spirit and loved the party scene. He suspected she was doing it as an escape but since it was none of his business he didn’t think to ask her. She’s the first girl in his life to actually respond to his flirtatious ways and actually reciprocates. Naturally he falls HARD for this girl. They play around in a kind of will they won’t they for a bit until she actually makes the first move and invites him back to her place. He goes, not expecting anything to happen but remains hopeful that he’ll at least get to kiss her on the cheek or something.

Much to his surprise, it is so much more than he could have ever dreamed. Cuddling during a movie leads to some gentle touches, which leads to actual kissing to a full-blown makeout session. Even more surprising to him is catching the scent of her arousal. She liked this, and when she brings his hand to touch her breast, he could swears he could’ve died and gone to heaven right then and there. Still, a small part of him knows they need to talk things out before things go any further. After all, he’s still a mutant turtle. There are certain… differences that she needed to be aware of.

Luckily for him, she’s more than understanding about his anatomy and they go no further than second-base that night. He pretty much asks her to be his girlfriend when the night ends and is over the moon when she accepts. From that moment on he takes every opportunity to brag about his beautiful girlfriend. It drives his brothers crazy and by the end of the month they’re ready to kill him.

Mikey is very attentive and sweet as a boyfriend, but he’s hyper-aware of the fact his girlfriend is human and is secretly terrified that sex might not be possible at all due to how different he is. He does voice his concerns one night when things start to become more intense between the two of them. She assures him that no matter what, she still wants to try. The admission makes Mikey feel like crying.

Their first attempt is a week later. Mikey is so, so incredibly careful and doing his best to stay calm when he enters her for the very first time. He gets about halfway in, locks up, and freezes before looking incredibly disappointed and ashamed with himself. He’d finished before they had even gotten started. That night is a lot of reassurance and soft words of comfort from his girlfriend who tells him they can try again.

The next time Mikey is determined to last longer and actually does his research on how to satisfy his girlfriend first just in case they can't go all the way. He successfully reduces her to a flushed and panting mess beneath him while looking very pleased with himself. She playfully tells him to wipe that smirk off his face and tells him she’s ready. Mikey takes a few steadying breaths before pushing inside of her, going achingly slow. Upon entering her completely he’s trembling slightly as he tries to control his breathing and keep his body from getting too excited. Incredibly, she is able to take all of him, and despite feeling the obvious stretch and a slight burn, she's as excited as he is.

Mikey doesn’t move for several minutes, afraid it will be over before it even begins and babbles away nervously, asking her if she's alright and if he's hurting her. She caresses his face, assuring him that no matter what, she wants this, it feels good for her, and she wants him to feel good too, no matter what. He does an experimental roll of his hips and sees her face change into one of awe and pleasure. A few slow thrusts later, and he’s able to get into a steady rhythm. He can tell she’s enjoying it too from the soft sounds of pleasure he hears and the slight tremble of her thighs as he slightly increases the speed of his thrusts. Very quickly, he realizes that he’s going to finish before she does unless he does something about it fast. Luckily he’s had plenty of practice, and with a few circles of his thumb on her nub, she jolts and cries out. She tightens around him, and he’s completely unable to hold back after that. In the aftermath of their lovemaking they’re both breathing heavily and pause a moment before they both break out into giddy laughter together. Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is in that moment.

Upon arriving home, Mikey knows his brothers can smell what he did. They’re bracing themselves for him to brag about being the first to go all the way with a girl, but he doesn’t. He’s entirely changed from the experience and wants to keep the moment to himself. It’s not like it’s some badge of honour that he needs to parade around the lair. It was special and intimate, and he feels so incredibly blessed and lucky to have had this experience. He’s hopeful about the future and feels a little lighter moving forward in his life.

The End

The others are yet to come, stay tuned!

[rainecreatesstuff]

hmmm.

this is no shade to tallulah. She goin through shit ok we love our poultry queen in this household.

but.

Sunny asks if Tallulah doesn’t like her. And asks why. They were never even given much of a chance to speak to her. Why doesn’t Tallulah like her?

and everybody says about the same thing. Tallulah’s going through some stuff, Tallulah is just wary, Tallulah just needs some time to warm up, give her some time.

Give her some time.

and. Those are accurate, fine statements to say. But. But if you ask Bad, or Bagi, or Phil (god, if you ask Phil) what Sunny is like, I would bet my life’s savings that they would summarize them as one of the following:

Spoiled

Entitled

Snobby

Now if I asked how much time those people had spent with Sunny, where would you estimate? A few minutes, maybe closer to a half hour for some?

people keep telling Sunny to give Tallulah time. And that’s fair. That is a fair thing to ask.

but not one single islander other than Tubbo has given her time before slapping a label on her behaviours and calling it a day.

she has gone from having nothing to having so much in just a few days. They are learning how to be part of a family, learning how to talk to people. She is mischievous, and passionate, and shy. They like flowers and steak and potatoes and they dream of having fancy lavish tea parties with their pa and his friends. She is a drama queen and she likes cats and she hides behind her pa whenever she meets someone new. They are incredibly perceptive, and fiercely protective, and sarcastic, and they are scared.

she is spoiled. They do act entitled. She can be snobby sometimes.

but they are also sweet. She is also kind. They hear people speak down to their pa and they jump to reassure him when people question his parenting. She sees a cat that’s been abandoned and asks to rescue it. They give out diamonds like they’re made of em, pays for people to be around them. She doesn’t want to be alone again. She doesn’t know how else to make sure that doesn’t happen.

There is so much more to Sunny than what people assume of them. And yes, other people deserve a grace period to warm up to a new person before a negative relationship forms.

but Sunny deserves to be given time too. Time to be known, and learned, and loved.

and if nobody has given her that

can you blame them for being apprehensive about giving it to others?

[vaxieth]

because something really did ask, have a much too long post about my thoughts on laudna’s individual dynamics with the rest of bells hells.

under the cut because it’s almost 3000 words.

laudna/imogen

i struggle to find something to say about imogen and laudna that hasn’t already been said a million times before. the core concept—the thesis—of their arcs, together and separately, is choice. so much of their backstories are defined by helplessness. laudna was chosen and killed because she happened to look like someone else, she was resurrected because she happened to be there. imogen’s mother left, she was burdened with powers she didn’t understand and meant constant pain and isolation. so, they make sure to constantly emphasize that the other person has a choice in everything. imogen tells laudna she only has to come back if she wants to, even though it would have devastated her to lose laudna forever. laudna tells imogen that the gods can’t control her, that no matter what her “destiny” is, if she wants, they can leave and live in a little cottage and raise horses together. the way they love each other unconditionally is all the more incredible given how cruel the world was to them for so long. laudna’s “you make me better” is true for both of them. they give each other a place to be vulnerable and feel all their messiest, worst feelings because they know the other one won’t judge them. they’ll support each other no matter the choices they make.

something i’ve mentioned quite a few times but never gone in depth about is that imogen and laudna do have a fairly significant age difference, and i do think that affects their dynamic. on the one hand, they both have a bit of arrested development—imogen due to her isolation from the rest of gelvaan from 18-26, laudna because she died at 20. on the other, laudna has so much more life experience than imogen. she spent almost 30 years traveling and interacting with the world even if was mostly people trying to kill her, maybe even because of that. the “laudna is imogen’s aunt/mother/older sister” takes were obviously ridiculous, but laudna does canonically look at imogen and see someone young who she wants to protect in a way she never was. she said as much to fcg after the gnarlrock fight. laudna acts as imogen’s rock, her tether if you will, a lot of the time, and part of the reason she can counterbalance imogen’s anxiety is because of the experience that comes with age. for example, during their conversation in episode 49, laudna is able to stay more “rational” and level-headed even when imogen is scared and overwhelmed. 

one of my other favorite things about them, specifically from laudna’s point of view, is that with a few exceptions (the gnarlrock fight, her jealousy of frida), she doesn’t seem insecure about their relationship. again, during episode 49, laudna mentions that she knows they haven’t talked in a while, but she didn’t worry because they “transcend words.” she didn’t need outside assurance from imogen because she felt confident in their love for each other. something i love about that episode 39-49 period is that they didn’t interact a lot, but when they did, they slipped right about in the same kind of intimacy they’d always had—imogen holding launda’s hand when they went into her dream together, laudna’s protectiveness of imogen after she interacted with ludinus. but anyway—that confidence is why i believe the transition from friends to lovers was so easy for laudna. laudna’s unsure of herself, of delilah and what she might do, but she’s absolutely not unsure of the love between her and imogen. that’s why as soon as imogen tells her she’s not a bad person, that she wants to be with laudna in that way, she lets herself embrace it entirely.

in conclusion: they invented romance, they’re the best canon pairing critical role has ever had and one of the best dynamics in general, etc., etc.

laudna/orym

oh my god, WHERE to begin? i feel like my take on their dynamic is slightly controversial. at the very least, i get more push back from people when i post about it than anything else, so let me start with this: orym cares deeply about laudna, i will never dispute that. however, orym is uncomfortable with laudna and has been since the very beginning of the campaign. she’s his friend and he recognizes her beautiful heart and resilient spirit, but he’s uncomfortable with her appearance and her messages in his head, with her macabre humor and her deadness. he can’t reconcile that laudna his friend and laudna the dead woman can’t be separated. laudna’s deadness is a part of her, one laudna embraces. orym, for better or worse, is “normal.” he grew up with a loving family and he had a husband and a career. will and derrig’s deaths were an unbelievable tragedy but one that never challenged his place within the status quo. (sidenote: i’ve always wondered if part of orym’s discomfort with laudna come from the fact that her proximity to death is a reminder of the resurrections will and derrig never got.) he sees himself as a follower, someone that doesn’t stand out, then there’s laudna, who does nothing but stand out. 

something i find fascinating is that orym is the first person to find out laudna’s backstory, and it affects him so much he can’t sleep that night and takes a point of exhaustion. he even explicitly recognizes the dehumanization she’s gone through and how laudna’s relationship with puppets like pate and sashimi mirror that. yet, he still never apologizes for trying to disguise her appearance, something without even asking. yes, i get it’s tactical and for “safety” (though that argument falls a bit flat for me when there’s also a glowing rock person and a fully conscious automaton in the group, but whatever), but it still hurts laudna. even beyond that, orym always qualifies his friendship with laudna to other person, making some mention of how she’s dead-looking and isn’t that crazy, wow, almost as if he wants some validation that it—laudna—is weird (one he, interestingly, rarely ever gets, given how enraptured most of the other pcs, including guests, and even some npcs, are with her). he does this even in situations he absolutely doesn’t need to like, for example, when maeve says laudna “looks cooler than i thought.” all this just sucks. it’s not that the love isn’t there, it is. it just isn’t unconditional, and laudna deserves better than that.

finally: the delilah in the room. no, it isn’t orym’s “fault” delilah is back. yes, he was also having an extremely bad time during the bor’dor fight and it wasn’t his “responsibility” to save laudna from herself, but laudna is orym’s friend. he listened to laudna tell him the trauma delilah put her through, he fought through hell to save laudna from her, and still nodded because part of him thought maybe delilah could help him and that was selfish. the fight against ludinus is important to of the bells, but for orym, it’s personal. it’s been his mission for six years. meanwhile, laudna is the one with the least enthusiasm about this. she has no connection to the gods. in fact, she actively thinks they dislike her, but he’s willing to sacrifice not just his safety, but the safety of her and all his friends for a cause they never set out to fight for.

in conclusion: i want to put them in a salad mixer together and watch them go around and around and around and around and around, then let them out to scream at each other a little.

laudna/ashton

if i had to explain laudna and ashton’s dynamic in one word, it would be “projection.” i adore their relationship, it’s one of my top 5 c3 dynamics, but oh my god, so much projection, and it’s so interesting because of that. ashton thinks he understands laudna, but in reality, he doesn’t at all. i’m an absolute sucker for characters that look very different on the surface but in reality are much more similar than they know, and ashton and laudna are that to a tee. they are very much narrative parallels especially regarding their feelings of “brokenness” and how their traumas are physical, visual parts of themselves, but the ways they diverge are almost more interesting.

certain people have said that her conversations with ashton are the only time laudna is “honest” or that, at the very least, she’s more honest with him than she is with anyone else, and i couldn’t disagree more. laudna can be a joyful, optimistic person and deeply traumatized with a core anger she hasn’t truly processed. laudna is a high-charisma character, and in my opinion, part of how that manifests is her ability to adapt her demeanor to the person she’s talking to. she speaks gently to imogen the same way she matches chetney’s hyperactive energy when they go sky-sailing. of course when she’s with ashton, who makes no effort to hide his anger and bitterness and doesn’t want her to be soft, she isn’t. none of these laudnas are more “real” than the others, they’re all laudna. what those people, and ironically, ashton themself, don’t get, or won’t let himself get, is that all those things can be true at once.

with ashton specifically, i don’t think they want to believe that because then they’d have to admit that growth and healing is a real possibility because anger is so much easier to deal with. people talk most about orym’s choices during the bor’dor fight most, but i’m fascinated by ashton’s as well. i wouldn’t be surprised if there was a part, no matter how small, that wanted laudna to break, to prove to himself that he was right and laudna was just as broken and fucked-up as them. so, laudna killing bor’dor was almost vindication, evidenced by their “what have i done?” “nothing i haven’t done.” exchange afterwards.

i don’t want this to sound like ashton doesn’t care about launda, they do. ashton cares about her so much, and besides imogen and fearne, is the most unabashedly into laudna’s aesthetic. i love how much they love all the weird shit she does. i love how protective ashton is of laudna, especially during battles and their willingness to go above and beyond for her—he carried laudna when she was dead despite his chronic pain without complaining once and were willing to make a deal with hexum after going through an entire museum heist to repay their debt. i love the moments when ashton sees how much laudna is struggling and tells her, as gently as he can, to take a moment and do what she can to ground herself. i love that when laudna way too dramatically assumes they kidnapped imogen, their response is “that’s very fair.” it’s all wonderful, and i love them.

in conclusion: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I WANT TO LOCK THEM IN A ROOM AND FORCE THEM TO TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS FOR HOURS.

laudna/fcg

laudna and fcg have been getting more attention in the past few days for obvious reasons and that has me rubbing my hands together maniacally because even though they have very little actual interaction, the subtext is delicious. 

besides ashton, fcg might be the character laudna parallels the most, especially their struggle with their humanity (if they’re even human at all), which isn’t helped by the constant dehumanization they face from outsiders, including the almost continuous comments they get when they meet someone new. people look at launda and see a horror while they look at fcg and see a novelty (he’s a robot with personality??), and those both suck. i think, for fcg, laudna is an uncomfortable reflection of himself because everything they’re afraid is true about themself is true about laudna. finding out they had a soul was such an important moment for his character (also remember his early campaign habit of calling other people “soul-touched folks”). as a hollow one, who knows if laudna even has a soul. if i’m honest, fcg seems to think less of laudna than the rest of the party (see: him calling her a “former person,” his speech before casting turn undead including, “no offense to laudna but can you please shine your light and wipe these evil, dead souls off the face of this flat planet?”) and that’s probably why. they have such strict ideas about “good,” which has become “godly,” and “wrong,” (“ungodly”), and within that framework, everything seemed to point to laudna as “ungodly,” which is why their empathy towards her is lacking. 

the biggest conflict between fcg and laudna right now is obviously their feelings on the gods. the changebringer brought fcg purpose and tangibly helps them on a daily basis. of course they want to share this incredible thing with everyone they meet, especially his friends. yet, time-and-time again, the world has shown laudna the gods don’t seem to care about her. before someone says anything, pike resurrecting laudna doesn’t automatically mean she has to trust the gods. clerics and paladins spent 30 years running her out of towns for existing and trying to kill her in the name of their gods. if the circumstances were different, there’s a good chance fcg could have been one of those people. for fcg, the world is black-and-white. for laudna, it’s all gray. laudna was able to have a conversation with imogen about the ruby vanguard’s message and the purpose of the gods because she understands the need to question things and thinks that’s a good thing even if she doesn’t agree with the conclusions. fcg’s not there yet, and until he is, their friendship with laudna will never be able to progress past where it is now.

in conclusion: please have a conversation, maybe even two or three. it’d be so good for fcg to learn the world’s incredible nuances and for laudna to see how faith in the gods can be an empowering force for good, not just something beyond her grasp.

laudna/fearne

out of all launda’s dynamics, this is the one i desperately want more of. we’ve gotten so little! almost all their moments are interactions between the three witches that tend to center imogen (making the red-string friendship bracelets and comforting imogen after she talked with relvin come to mind) OR center imogen and fearne’s mutual appreciation for laudna’s… everything. one of my favorite about fearne is that, like imogen, she doesn’t think laudna is gross and creepy, she thinks laudna is gorgeous and charming without any caveats. even ashton, who also loves laudna’s laudnaness, tends more towards “yeah, you’re disgusting and THAT’S why it’s great.”

the other main part of their dynamic i want to sink my teeth into is the coin-toss, more specifically fearne’s guilt over the coin toss. regardless of whether you think fearne lied (i personally find that headcanon FASCINATING but to each their own), she clearly feels so many emotions about having to pick whether to save laudna and orym that she hasn’t even begun to unpack. one of the few sole moments we’ve gotten of them was in episode 42 when laudna asked fearne to help teach her to cast fireball, and in it, fearne, unprompted, blurts out, “how’s it feel being alive again?” almost immediately. she also apologizes to laudna, says they’ll fight any piece of delilah that’s still in there, and tells her, “i missed you terribly for that moment in time.” even when laudna gives her the chance to make the conversation light-hearted, fearne stays so genuine, which is all the more-noteworthy because she’s usually so flippant and almost always keeps her real feelings close to her chest. 

some other examples of fearne’s guilt include: the 4sd where ashley said part of why she was so protective over imogen during their separation arc was that she couldn’t bear having to tell laudna anything happened to her and just this past episode when fearne’s protectiveness after laudna made her only cast first-level cure wounds on fcg after they cast turn undead.

in conclusion: PLEASE LET THEM INTERACT MORE. THERE’S SO MUCH JUICY POTENTIAL AND I WANT TO SEE IT EXPLORED.

laudna/chetney

i don’t have that much to say about them except that their dynamic is absolutely delightful. i love that we’ve gotten to see more of it in recent episodes, and i hope that continues. 

chetney exists at an interesting place between orym’s genuine discomfort and fearne and imogen’s complete enchantment with laudna’s undeadness. he is sometimes grossed out, but he also seems to accept it as a thing about laudna without too much judgment, or at least, that “judgment” is light-hearted in a way orym’s or even fcg’s isn’t.

i love that they’re the characters with the most life experience (even if laudna is technically the fourth oldest, fcg only has two years of memory and fearne is a 100+ but spent 99% of that time in one place) but also embrace being “childish” and silly together, like the entire sky-sail sequence! 

in conclusion: *gently holds* i just think they’re neat!

that’s all! if you read this whole thing, you get my eternal love and gratitude. thank you.

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #189

1. Greetings! First off, you people are incredible, thank you so much for the work you do, you are this fandom’s saviors! <3 Now, I’m looking for a fic I read a few weeks ago, I’ve already spent so many hours scrolling through ao3 I think I’m going insane. It was an e-rated fic, one chapter I think, and I’m pretty sure it was set in some kind of ancient time. The story was that Aziraphale had been ordered by heaven to experience ~earthly pleasures~, he didn’t really want to but ended up doing it with Crowley. It was kinda awkward cause they were bad at it, but it worked out eventually. It had bottom Crowley. I mostly read recent fics so I’m worried it might have been deleted since I can’t find it. But since it was set in history it could possibly be written pre-season 2. I hope you or someone who sees this recognizes it so I can stop feeling out of my mind! Xoxo - anon

2. Hi, I’m looking for a fic on Ao3 where Aziraphale accidentally gives Crowley a tattoo during an intimate moment. I believe the tattoo was a wing. There is a part where Crowley gives him a tattoo as well. I’ve searched but can’t find it😭 Thanks! - anon

3. Hello, my dearest librarians! I am looking for a fic which I've downloaded, but I don't have access to that hard drive anymore, and it's only recently that I've made a proper Ao3 account. I'm looking for a fic which I found in your "night at crowley's flat" subsection, but now I cannot see it? It's about the husbands, starting on a bus stop and they are drinking wine. When Crowley wordlessly asks for a swig, Aziraphale instead puts his hand in Crowley's. Long story short, they nap together ("oh darling, your hair,") on the bus, get to the flat, sweet dreams and cuddles ensue. There's a second chapter where they watch Wicked, the musical, and a third one months later where they are living a domestic life in the South Downs. "Lost the hard drive" sounds fishy, but it was a very sweet and tender fic, I just happened to lose my phone. I sincerely hope it isn't gone, but either way thank you so much for all you do and I hope y'all have a fine evening. Cheers! - @flying-desk-set

4. TW! SELF HARM/SUICIDE!!!!! hi! i lost a fic where az. was sh-ing and crowley finds out. there was dialouge in there that went like this- " 'Oh really, Crowley it wasn't that serious. I wasn't suicidal or anything.' Aziraphale knew he shouldn't have lied about that, because when he built up enough courage to look at Crowley, he was looking at him with a horrified look on his face." and then they hug and he's like "I've already lost you twice, dont you dare leave me again." thanks if you find it! - anon

5. Hello! I'm looking for a whumpy fic i just can't track down where Aziraphale and Crowley visit Anathema. While there, Crowleys being a bit of an ass (Think grumpy teen, bored at a family event). Crowley pulls out a flask and adds a shot of hellfire(?) to his drink, which Aziraphale then accidentally consumes. I THINK they give him holy water, and Crowley talks with Aziraphale on another plane. (Temporary Character Death?) Any help tracking this down is seriously appreciated. Thanks! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[whatwooshkai]

Hello! Not sure if I'm doing this right, but if you've not had the chance to share something for #4 for the smoke & mirrors AU, I'd love to read it!

"Ta-da!"

Graham steps back and waves his hands jazzily, revealing the baking soda volcano.

Boulder claps, grinning with delight. "Amazing," they say, leaning in to get a closer look. "And it's completely harmless to humans?"

"Completely," Graham assures them, smiling fondly as Boulder continues to investigate the volcano.

It's almost cute, how easy they are to impress. And Graham would be lying if he said he wasn't having a good time. Recreating old science experiments from his basic-level classes has been incredibly fun, and Boulder's enthusiasm for learning is absolutely infectious.

It reminds Graham of a time where his dream was to become a science teacher, and while things didn't work out that way upon discovering new passions, it's fun to pretend a little with Boulder.

Plus, all the rescue bots act like little kids sometimes. It's practically like teaching a class of regular kids when they're all present for these little demonstrations.

"-life size?"

"Huh?" Graham zones back in, meeting Boulder's gaze. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I was wondering if we could do a life-size volcano," Boulder patiently repeats, lightly tapping the side of the baking soda one. "With real lava."

"Boulder, we cannot set off a volcano," Graham says, trying to keep his tone light while also getting across how unbelievably awful of an idea that is. "Lots of people could get hurt! I can show you some documentaries on lava studies, though."

Boulder shakes their head. "No... maybe a small one then?"

"Huh?"

"A volcano with lava. But just this size." Boulder taps the baking soda volcano again, a little bit of "lava" gurgling over the edge. "It's not that hard to find, is it?"

Despite his better judgement, an idea is starting to form in Graham's head. "Yes," he says slowly, "we could probably pull that off."

Boulder's face lights up, and Graham is still questioning his life decisions as they rumble up the mountain to Doc Greene's lab.

"Hello!" Doc Greene shouts upon seeing them. "And how can I help you two today?"

"Well, I made Boulder a model baking soda volcano," Graham starts, waiting for the bot in question to finish their transformation sequence before continuing. "And they proposed the idea that we make a real volcano. Only model sized."

Doc Greene absolutely lights up, and Graham is sensing he's made a mistake.

"Oh, perfect!" Doc Greene claps his hands together. "I've been looking for an excuse to use my superheated oven again! Let's make some lava, my friends!"

Someone has to be the responsible one in this situation, and Graham is not it. The second the rocks in the oven turned from gray to orange he turned back into a kid again, giddy excitement bubbling up as he rushes to Boulder, scrambling up their back to lean over their shoulder as Doc Greene pours the lava into their little model.

"Move back!" Doc Greene commands. "We have about ten seconds before eruption!"

Boulder doesn't hesitate, grabbing Doc Greene by the scruff of his jacket and pulling Graham in front of them, creating a protective shield with just enough of a gap in their arms for the two humans to peek through.

And three! Two! One!

Lava sprays out over the top of the model, Boulder wincing as a few drops hit them, but Graham barely notices.

He’s only seen volcanic eruptions in movies and documentaries, but this. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Their model erupts like firecrackers, each drop like a shooting star carrying every wish Graham has ever had as a scientist. An orange glow bathes all their faces, and it’s gone as soon as it came, bright to gray, not with a bang, but a soft sizzle.

Not for the first time, Graham wonders how he ever stepped out of his comfort zone without Boulder around.

[rose-pearls]

Will you marry me? - Prompt

Jake was feeling nervous, and he could openly admit it, the ring box in his pocket felt incredibly heavy and he still didn’t know how to ask you properly. He nearly went on one knee last week when you were walking down the beach but stopped himself as you started telling him a story. 

He had never felt like this, and it was starting to drive him crazy not being able to find the right moment, he also knew you were starting to get suspicious. That night he tells himself that tomorrow would be the day, you would be walking down your favorite park and he would ask you then. 

That was the original plan until that morning where he woke up with you already watching him, eyes full of love and affection.

“Hi, handsome. Slept well?”, he hears you whisper softly, and he can hear his heart beating out of his chest at the sight of you next to him with sleepy eyes and tender smile, the sunlight reflecting in your hair making you even more beautiful.

“Marry me?”, he blurts out so suddenly that he doesn’t even realize he said it himself until he sees your wide eyes, the sleepiness getting replaced by surprise.

“What?”, you whisper, eyes wide open and Jake groans a bit before turning around and taking the ring out of his night table. 

He turns around with the ring and hears your gasp at the sight of it, eyes already welling up with tears.

“This wasn’t how I had planned this to go, I wanted to do something big and everything but.”, he knows that he is rambling but still you let him do while nodding at his words with a loving grin.

“But ultimately the most perfect time is probably when I wake up next to you and realize that I still have a day with you by my side. That you are still there and that it wasn’t all a dream.”, a few tears slip out of your eyes and Jake quickly wipes them away with his hand that isn’t holding the ring.

“You are the most perfect thing that I have ever had the honor of calling mine and I hope that you would like to stay mine. So, will you, the love of my life, make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”, he knows that he is stumbling over his last words, but the nerves are getting to him. 

“Yes, of course I would you idiot.”, Jake can’t help but laugh at her response and he has just the time to put the ring on her finger that she brings him into a passionate kiss. He holds her close and sighs happily as she cards her fingers through his hair, the feeling of her ring making him smile.

“I’m sorry I did it in bed, I-”, he doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence that she kisses him to shut him up.

“This is perfect, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”, she whispers, a bright smile on her face as she looks at him, the sunlight once again reflecting in her hair.

“Guess we are getting married.”, he whispers after a moment of admiring her.

“I guess we are, this calls for a celebration.”, she whispers back with a suggestive smile and Jake’s smile quickly turns into a smirk.

“Your wish is my command.”, he enjoys the sound of her giggles as he brings her into a breathless kiss, and he can’t help but tell himself he was an idiot for thinking this could’ve gone bad. 

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, part 18

Summary: Waking up, Y/N expected to find herself in Paul’s arms. Instead, she found herself clinging to bed sheets and an empty bed.

Warnings: fluff, angst, sexual content, swearing

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

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Paul promised he’d be there when her eyes opened. She remembers his words clearly, that wasn’t a dream. They made love, he drove her to the brink of madness and back and then he promised to be there when she wakes, so where the hell is he now?

A lump forms at the back of Y/N’s throat as she sits up, clinging to the bed sheets carrying his scent. It’s unmistakable – his promise is broken. Paul isn’t by her side, he’s not even in the room.

Inhaling sharply, her chest shudders. Closing her eyes she licks her lower lip before catching it between her teeth. Part of her wishes she could stop time and stay in that moment he held her so close that nothing stood between them – not even air could penetrate the tight bond between their bodies as they surrendered every atom of their beings to each other.

But she can’t stop time and he’s gone.

Why?

Where?

Swallowing thickly, she throws the sheets aside and stands. It doesn’t make sense. If he wanted to run, he could have done so sooner. He wouldn’t do it to her now. She refuses to believe he’d do it on purpose. Something must have happened.

Putting on her clothes, she shivers. Cold always finds her, sinking its hooks in her skin, spreading underneath violently until her muscles tremble in an effort to generate some warmth to battle the ice in her veins. Paul keeps the cold away, but without him it’s like falling through the ice into the freezing water below.

Checking her phone, she finds no new messages. Not from Paul at least.

Jacob sent dozens of texts. Embry had sent a few as well, and even Emily tried calling. She remembers her phone vibrating last night but in that moment the world could have been coming to an end and she’d refuse to acknowledge it because being with Paul was enough for her. If it was the end, she was already with the only person she’d watch it all burn to nothingness.

Huffing, she dials Paul.

From nowhere came the sound of a cellphone ringing, a classical cover of “Stay with me” by Sam Smith echoing the room. It’s on the nightstand on Paul’s side of the bed, her photo flashing on the screen.

Her heart quickens, eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t just leave, he wouldn’t have left his phone or her. Not after last night.

Rushing downstairs, she pops into the kitchen first. “Paul?”

He’s not here.

“Paul?!” She calls out, her heart dropping as the silence continues. “Fuck”, her hands begin to shake as she opens Jacob’s messages first.

“Is everything k?”

“Call me if u wanna talk”

“If u don’t wanna talk, just text me back, pls. Just so I knw ure home.”

“I’m getting worried”

“I’ll call ur dad. If you dnt text me back, I will.”

“Y/N wtf, I called ur dad and he says ure not home. Call me ASAP!”

“Paul’s not answering either and I’m seriously starting to panic”

“I’ll stop by his house to check on him and then I’ll look 4 u”

“I heard enough to traumatize me for the rest of my life. Glad you’re ok.”

Rolling her eyes, she chews on her bottom lip. She hoped to get a “We had an emergency, sorry to steal your man so early in the morning” text, something that would pacify her, but she’s never been quite good at finding herself in situations that had no answers when her mind would jump to worse case scenarios.

“I’m not paying for therapy. Just wanted to check if you guys had patrol or some vampires to chase this morning?”

Dropping back on the couch, she stares up at the ceiling. Who would have known she’d find herself falling for the biggest playboy she’s ever met, that he’d turn out to be her cosmic love and that she’d go from wishing never to see him again to wishing never to lose him? It’s incredible how unpredictable life can be – one moment can change it irreversibly, one person can make it so you never look at anything you’ve known the same way.

“No. Sam’s out with the pups. Why?”

Shaking her head, she bounces her right foot on the floor. Something’s not right. He wouldn’t just leave her like this – no note, no text, hell, his phone’s still in the bedroom.

“I can’t find Paul”

“What do you mean you can’t find him?!”

She snorts at the way Jacob’s text become proper and grammatically correct whenever he’s angry, same as it used to be. He used to teach her slang and how to shorten words to make texting easier back when each text cost and they had character limits. She’s never quite liked it, finding ways to shape her thoughts in a different manner rather than using Jacob’s ridiculous one letter words.

“He said he’d be here and he’s not and his phone’s in the room”, she grimaces before walking to the window. Pulling the curtain aside, she sees his Jeep in the driveway. “His car is here too.”

It took less than a second after the Seen for Y/N’s phone to ring, Jacob’s name plastered over her screen.

“Tell me everything”, Jacob says, his breathing almost ragged.

“I doubt you want to heart everything”, Y/N reminds him.

“I didn’t mean the part where you two fucked, I mean after”, his voice is low, still raspy. He must have woken up because of her text.

“Before we fell asleep, he promised me he’d be here when I woke up. He wasn’t. I called his phone and it frickin’ rang in the fucking room. I looked around the house and he’s not here. His stupid fucking Jeep is in the driveway and I’m starting to freak out because there’s no way in hell he’d just leave the house without anything on him.”

“Look, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there soon and we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

“Jake”, she pauses.

“Don’t tell me not to come. I know we still have a long way to go before we get back to that friendship we had growing up, but I care about you and you’re upset and despite common sense, I care about Paul too. So, stay there. I’m on my way.”

Hanging up, Jacob immediately called Embry.

“What do you want”, Embry grumbles.

“Better wake up Mr. Sunshine, because we might have a situation on our hands.”

“What kind of a situation?”

“Paul’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone how?”

Rolling his eyes, Jacob grabs his helmet and heads to his old bike. “That’s what I’m not sure about. Y/N called and she can’t find him.”

“He’s probably off somewhere licking his wounds from last night. Remember when he found out Y/N moved away for college? He went into the woods for weeks and never spoke of her after he came home. And that’s BEFORE he imprinted on her.”

“I remember it just fine”, Jacob sighs.

“They fought and he’s imprinted on her, so I’m not worried. He’ll come back soon.”

“But they didn’t fight”, Jacob interrupts, “quite the opposite.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to check on him last night and…those weren’t the sounds of a couple fighting.”

“What are you….oh….OH!”

“Exactly the sound she made last night. Several times.” Jacob grimaces. The last thing he needed was to hear his best friend moaning as she was getting frisky with Paul Lahote. If there’s something his younger self would never believe, it’s that Y/N would ever let Paul’s penis anywhere near her and yet it was quite literally attached to her last night and his stomach churns at the thought.

“Where the fuck is he then?!” Embry raises his voice and Jacob sighs.

“That’s why I’m calling you now. Shift and see if you can find him. I’ll go to his house and find Y/N before she spirals.”

“Be careful about it”, Embry warns.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“I know what goes through your head when Y/N is involved. I knew back then and I know now.”

“She’s in love with Paul. I’ve imprinted on another. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I really wish I could believe you.”

“Get going, Em. Paul might be in some deep shit and I don’t want to look her in the eye and say we couldn’t help him because we spent too long talking about things that will never happen.”

“I’ll call if I find anything.”

Inhaling sharply, Jacob pockets his phone and puts his helmet on. He’s not delusional to think he would ever be a viable option to Y/N, nor would she ever be a choice he could embrace with his own imprint being out there in the world.

What Jacob does know is that Paul adores the ground Y/N walks on, has been since before any of them truly knew it. She’s in safe hands with Paul. For now, at least. While he’s gone, for whatever reason it may be, Jacob will step in and make sure the fate Paul saw while imprinting doesn’t befall her in his absence.

It didn’t take long for him to drive up to Paul’s house. Taking a good whiff, Jacob frowns. There are no unfamiliar scents lingering around. If a vampire came close, half the reservation would reek for hours. All of the wolves would be out, tracking down the source. But there are no vampires here. It smells distinctively of Paul and Y/N.

It’s painstakingly obvious they’re imprints based off their smell alone. Paul has a woody smell of pine clinging to him from his work in the lumberyard and all the time he spends in the woods as he patrols, while Y/N has a floral scent – a mixture of lilacs and lilies. Woody and floral – complementary in every possible way.

Shaking his head, his jaw clenches. She’s his best friend, she’s always been his favorite human being, the only one who could see who he is through all the bullshit walls he’s built over the years. Y/N has always understood him at his core, supported him when he needed her without even having to ask for it, pushed him to be better when all he wanted was to avoid the world and when he left her after shifting, it felt like he was taken apart with every passing day.

When they told him he’s never to talk to her again, Jacob accepted his fate but he would follow her home, terrified of something happening to her. He was always there, sun, rain or snow, Jacob was following her from the tree line, ready to step in. Y/N didn’t know, but he would have done anything to ensure she’d live a long life, even if it meant she’d hate him longer.

It’s depressing it took so many years for her to finally find out the truth. He’s been away, tied to his imprint instead of his best friend ever since Bella gave birth. In a way, he’s resented Renesmee for taking him away from his home…from Y/N. He never asked to imprint, if he could choose not to, he wouldn’t have an imprint.

For years, Jacob’s tried figuring out the purpose of him imprinting on a vampire hybrid baby that he felt no true romantic affection for. He’s felt duty, he’s felt protective after watching her grow up before his eyes. Despite what most imprints feel, Jacob only ever felt like a parental figure. He loves her, he does, but he’s not in love with her and he doesn’t see that changing. Ever.

Unlike Renesmee, Jacob’s loved Y/N his whole life and yes, there are dormant feelings always lingering somewhere inside. She was his first friend, the first person he danced with, his first kiss. She was the first person he could be vulnerable with, the first person he could act stupid around and the only person he could come to with his hands bloody and know he would face no judgment.

Making his way to the door, Jacob smiles when the door open wide before he even reaches them. Y/N’s standing in the doorway, her lips pressed in a thin line, her arms opening immediately and without a second thought, Jacob allows her to wrap those loving arms around his neck.

Holding her close, he breathes through his mouth in an attempt to ignore how strongly Paul’s scent clings to her, overpowering the freshness of her own scent Jacob was once addicted to.

“It’s gonna be okay”, Jacob whispers in her hair, closing his eyes as his grip on Y/N tightens. And that was a promise. One way or another, Paul will come back and Jacob will watch from the sidelines how in love his best friend is with the very man she once detested. He’ll watch and he’ll witness their ups and console her when they’re at their lows, but he’ll never let her see the pain it will bring him. She’ll never see the worry in his eye whenever he’s not around her for he never knows when it’ll happen.

It’s inevitable, Jacob of all people knows.

When he imprinted, Jacob saw his life with Renesmee. He saw himself by her side as she grew, taking her to school, taking photos of her and her prom date, waiting up for her when she snuck out to a party. It all came true. He saw himself walking her down the aisle with Edward, babysitting her son, growing older while she remains younger. That’s yet to happen, but it will. At some point in his life, he will give up shifting and he will age and one day, he’ll be free of this life for good.

If his visions were true, if every other wolf’s visions happened just as they did, so will Paul’s.

Jacob will do everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t, but in his heart he knows his time with Y/N is limited, therefore too precious to ever tell her his heart is like sand in which her footprints will never be erased by waves of the ocean of time.

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Tags: @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @llovergirlll @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss @ireadthensuetheauthors @missxmarvelous @locokoca @unstablekay @makhaia @venusdelaroix @avadakadabra93 @tearsforhan @a-marie-a @lendeluxe @seagulls-corner @jdbxws @kitabestboy @rottenstyx @itsmytimetoodream @dreamerwasfound​@convolutings @rachelccollier @prvncessvibes @thingfromlove @jennyamanda8 @havecourage-darling @luvr-exe @alittlejudgemental @turningtoclown @vikingsheart12 @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows @marvelmenarebeautiful @bringmethe-world@alitaar @sugasthreedollarkookie @chloe-skywalker @heyheyheyggg @feral-ratatattat-king @pillowjj​

PART 19

[brave-and-gentle]

Ice Sculpture date: Reader x Jean Fluff Part 1

Ya'll something came over me this morning and I busted this out for absolutely no reason.

**This has turned into an unexpected mini series. Check out chapter two here.

If you like this, be sure to check out my original character x Jean fic on A03 here

Pairings: reader x Jean

Summary: A year after graduating college in Trost, many of your friends have moved away, but you remained. Your new roommate, Sasha and her friend Connie, introduced you to their friend group. When group plans go awry, you find yourself alone with Jean.

Warnings: none, this all v cute fluff, a self-indulgence

Word count: ~3,400

You were supposed to leave the apartment 10 minutes ago. You always forgot how long it took to layer up with how cold Trost got in the middle of winter. As soon as you lace your winter boots up, you run out the front door and penguin-walk to Jean and Marco's apartment. It was only a few blocks south of where you and Sasha lived, but since it was -20 Fahrenheit, it seemed like an eternity.

It's frigid that the insides of your nose freeze within about five seconds of being outside. Your teeth chatter and eyes burn. This does nothing to help your nerves. You are going to see the ice sculptures made by local artists with a new group of friends you had only met a month ago.

Three months prior, your best friend and roommate, Historia, decided to move to the coast with her girlfriend, Ymir. Your reaction was mixed. You and Historia were two peas in a pod since you met during freshmen year orientation and you did everything together – English classes, the college newspaper, intramural volleyball team, and a few parties. When Historia started dating Ymir junior year, you were a little concerned by Ymir's abrasive personality, but she started to grow on you and she helped Historia become a little more assertive. Ymir had always wanted to move to the coast, so when she finally secured an apartment, it didn't surprise you that Historia sat you down to break the news that she was going with her, leaving you alone in the two-bedroom apartment.

You were happy for the couple. This was Ymir's dream and Historia was excited to explore somewhere new with the love of her life. And yet, there is a tiny bit of maybe not resentment, but you do feel abandoned. This completed the mass exodus of all your friends moving out of Trost. With Historia and Ymir gone, you really don't have anyone.

Thankfully, they refused to road trip to their new home until they helped you find a roommate. It didn't take nearly as much time as you expected, which admittedly disappointed you. After asking around for a few weeks, you found out that Sasha Braus was looking for a place. You knew who she was since you had gone to the same college, but you'd never had a conversation with her. All you knew about Sasha was that she started an archery club at school that apparently was still going strong after graduation. It was an easy decision for Sasha to move in with you. When you met up at the coffee shop down the street, she was incredibly bubbly and kind.

Rooming together was going nearly seamless – although you did have to label all your food in the fridge, lest Sasha get the munchies and eat everything. Soon enough you got to know her friend from school, Connie Springer, who you recognized from the soccer team. He had pretty much taken residence on the couch in the living room, and you didn't even mind. It was nice to have a living space full of laughter – and Connie's snoring.

Sasha and Connie invited you to join their friend group at weekly bar trivia. It was a large group – you'd never hung out with so many people at one time, but with how extroverted Sasha and Connie were, it wasn't a surprise. You could barely keep track of who was who for a while, but after nearly a month of hanging out with them, you think you got it down. Sasha, Connie, Marco and Jean were tight in college. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin had grown up together in Shiganshina and went to a different college in Trost. Eren had met Reiner and Bertholt at the gym. Annie had grown up with Reiner and Bertholt. You weren't exactly sure how they all merged together, but they all hung out together pretty regularly now.

You groan in relief as you approached Jean and Marco's apartment – a beacon of warmth in the frigid, dark night. Your nerves disappear, replaced by yearning for heat. This is the first time you are hanging out with the group without Sasha and the first time outside of bar trivia. It was Jean's idea to go see the ice sculptures. He was an art major in college and knew a couple of the artists. Sasha had a date with this new guy, Nicolo tonight, but urged you to go without her.

You run up to the entryway and ring the apartment buzzer, hoping that it actually works because you realized you don't have Jean or Marco's number. The door clicks, thankfully, and a heatwave washes over you as you open the door and climb the stairs to apartment 313. Or was it 315? You knock on the door only once before it opens to reveal Jean in an old college t-shirt and sweatpants with a hole in the right knee. He isn't wearing shoes. You didn't fully realize how tall this man was until you had to practically crane your neck up to look at him.

“Hey,” Jean says your name. He runs his fingers through his ash-brown hair. “Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't have your number and couldn't tell you – everyone canceled for tonight. I texted Sasha for your number but she didn't answer.”

Your stomach drops a little. Did you come over here for nothing? You had actually been looking forward to seeing ice sculptures, especially since it was over the college's winter break – it wouldn't be as crowded with students as it usually was. At least that's what you heard, you had never actually gone to see them before. Historia didn't usually last more than 10 minutes in the cold.

“Oh,” you breath, still recovering from the cold. “I guess that means it's going well with Nicolo then.”

“Yeah,” Jean laughs, “If there's any way to Sasha's heart, it's food, and with the way that guy cooks, I think he's in it for life.”

“So where is everyone tonight?” You ask, stalling for a little more time inside. Jean leans against the door frame and counts off.

“Annie invited Armin to go to her father's for the holidays, so I guess they're getting serious. Reiner and Bertholt are sick. Marco got called in to work to cover for someone. Connie won't tell me what he's doing tonight, but I'm pretty sure he's going over to Hitch's for a booty call. And once everyone else canceled, so did Eren and Mikasa.”

“Ah,” you respond, not really knowing what to say now. You don't know Jean well enough to continue the conversation, but you really don't want to go back home. It's only six o'clock, but since it's already pitch black out, you know you won't do anything except rot on the couch all night. For once, you had plans on the weekend and were looking forward to it. You take a step back and point down the hallway. “Welp, I guess I'll - “

“Unless?” Jean interrupts you and rises an eyebrow. His hazel eyes bore into you. Shit, he's really cute. “I mean, you did come over here and you're already bundled up. We could go?” He asks, seemingly unsure of himself.

“Oh, yeah that would be great!” The words tumble out of your mouth before you fully realize you just agreed to a night alone with Jean. “I did make the perilous journey after all.”

“It is cold as fuck and you are very brave.” Jean smiles and rolls his eyes. He takes a step back and motions for you to enter his apartment. “C'mon in, I'll change quick and I can drive us over.”

~

You tense up sitting in the passenger seat of Jean's small, beater car, but as the car warms, so does your conversation. You learn that Jean is an only child and had grown up in Trost. In his art major, he focused on drawing and painting, and was currently teaching art classes at a nonprofit specializing in teaching kids from low-income neighborhoods. He tells you about how his mom drove him crazy, but he still wears the thick, royal blue mittens she had knitted for him. You give him a refresher of how you became roommates with Sasha, how all of your friends from Trost had moved away over the course of the year following graduation.

Once you arrive, you and Jean walk over the to the entrance to pay for tickets, but someone so bundled up you couldn't make out a single feature waves you in.

“For you my man, it's free! Enjoy your date!” You look over to Jean and wait for him to correct the man. Jean's cheeks flush pink, either from the bitter cold or the embarrassing mistake his friend made.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Jean says and bites his lower lip. “That's Floch, he's . . .a bit of an idiot. I know him from the nonprofit, he teaches about once a week. Pretty sure that's all he does besides live off his rich parent's money.”

“Ha, that's okay,” you answer and looked around for any sort of distraction from the awkward interaction. The stars above you shine with a brilliance you'd never seen before. “Wow.” You point up. “I didn't realize how bright the stars could be away from the city.”

“Yeah,” Jean perks up. “It's my favorite part about coming out here.” You both approach the first sculpture, a series of waves imitating the ocean. Dark blue lights underneath light it up. “Brrr, but this cold is not! Actually, I'll be right back.” You don't look behind you to see where Jean wanders off to because you are memorized by the ice wave sculpture.

It reminds you of Historia and Ymir and their new home. The first week she moved, Historia sent you a picture of them at the beach. She said once it warmed up in a few months, they were going to take surfing lessons, no doubt Ymir's idea. An ache grows in your heart, missing your best friend. You are proud of how adventurous she had become since meeting Ymir.

“Hot toddy?” Jean reappears and hands a steaming mug to you.

“Ohhh,” you moan as the mug instantly warms right through your mittens. “This is perfect, thank you.” You hold the drink up to your face, letting it defrost your nose. You breath in the mix of cinnamon and brandy.

“You like this one?” Jean nods at the icy waves.

“Yeah, it reminds of Historia and Ymir since they're living so close to the ocean now. I miss them even though I'm happy for them,” you confess.

“Good for them though, getting out of here.” He take a long sip of his hot toddy. “I've been in Trost my whole life.”

“Have you thought about moving somewhere else?”

“I have, but I don't know if I could ever leave my mom. She's got my step-dad now, but still. Plus, I think I'd really have to make it in the art world to have the money to get out of here. That nonprofit job isn't exactly paying me much.” He gazes at the sculpture, lost in thought.

“Ah, so you're a mama's boy at heart?” You tease and smirk.

“Hey now, nothing wrong with that,” Jean defends himself and tears his eyes away from the sculpture to smile at you.

The two of you continue on, losing yourselves in the towering ice and the glowing pink, blue and green lights mimicking the Northern Lights. You are lost in conversation as well. You discover you are both voracious readers and are discussing a fantasy series you had both recently read when Jean halts.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He furrows his brows and you follow his accusing eyes to see Eren and Mikasa hand in hand across the field of snow viewing a sculpture in the shape of several large, intricate snow flakes. “They canceled on me and showed up anyway?? Typical Jaeger,” Jean growled.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You aren't sure exactly why Eren and Jean are constantly on each other's nerves, but it was one of the first things you noticed when they argued at trivia night over which actor had won an Oscar two years in a row. Turns out, both of their answers were wrong. You had to admit that you found their rivalry a little comical.

“Would you have wanted to go with them anyway?” You press and give a soft laugh. Eren and Mikasa are all over each other all the time, so it's hard to imagine Jean would enjoy three-wheeling with them.

“No,” Jean glowers, “but still, it's about the principle!”

“Alright, let's stay away from them then and have our own fun,” you concede and place your hand on Jean's bicep to guide him away from their direction. You run your mitten-covered hand down the rest of his arm and were about to pull away, but Jean grabs your hand and pulls you closer. Your heart skips a beat.

“You uh, look cold.” He shrugs and looks at the ground. He loosens his hand, as if to let you know that you can let go if you want. Instead, you squeeze his hand and press even closer to his tall frame.

“I am absolutely freezing,” you agree. It's like you had a brain aneurysm, you are never this bold. But you are, in fact, freezing, and Jean is warm. He clears his throat and peers over at you, eyes just barely visible with his knit cap covering his eyebrows.

“So what about you? What are you doing in Trost?”

“Ugh, that's a backstory.”

“I'm all ears.” You launch into it, how you majored in English with great hopes of becoming a best-selling novelist, but the past few months you were stuck in the worst case of writer's block. Unable to find a job remotely close to what you wanted to do, you ended up working at the front desk of a pediatric medical clinic – and barely writing anything.

“You know when you have this great idea, but you realize that in order to make it happen, you actually have to sit down and you know, create?” You gesticulate with your now empty mug in hand, your other hand still engulfed by Jean's.

“Yeah, I know the feeling all too well.” He nods. “I get that way about my sketches and painting sometimes too. It's like the thought of failure has such a choke hold on me that I can't even get started.”

“Exactly! God, the burden we creatives put on ourselves,” you laugh and roll your eyes at your own mild pretentiousness. “I didn't think I'd still be living in Trost this long.”

The two of you finish the ice sculpture route and arrive back where you started. The night was going fast, too fast. You are so long in conversation that you don't see Eren and Mikasa arrive at the exit at the same time.

“Jean?? Is that you?” Shit. You don't mind Eren that much, though he's a little intense for you, and Mikasa is positively the coolest person you know, but fielding the tension between Jean and Eren is the last thing you want to do. Jean drops your hand and with it, a little piece of your heart. Eren and Mikasa approach you.

“Oh, hey,” Eren says your name and a shit-eating grin grows on his face. “Didn't realize you two were out here.”

“Hi,” Mikasa greets you by name with a shy smile.

Jean crosses his arms.

“Yeah, because unlike some people, I did what I said I'd do.” You chuckle at Jean's awkward wording.

“Technically I did too. I said I wasn't going with you, not that I wouldn't go at all,” Eren smirks and his pine-green eyes dance with mischief. Mikasa rolls her eyes and tuggs on his hand.

“C'mon Eren, let's go. Nice to see you two!” Mikasa waves at you and Jean and steers Eren away before a battle could ensue.

“God he gets on my nerves,” Jean says mostly to himself and balls up his hands in fists as the two of you walk to his car. Once inside, you check your phone to see a message from Sasha.

Omg Mikasa just told me you and Jean went to the ice sculptures together?? Just the two of you?? How cute!! I didn't even think about it but you two are PERFECT together. Come home immediately and tell me how it went.

Her message is followed with about a million heart eye emojis.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter and shove your phone in your pocket. Although you thoroughly enjoyed your night with Jean and don't want it to end, you also don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, yourself included. Getting your hopes up had bit you in the ass one too many times.

“Everything good?” Jean asks as he steers out of the parking lot.

“Ah, I don't know. . .” you trail off, unsure how to respond. “I guess Mikasa must have just told Sasha that she ran into us here and she's demanding answers.”

“Which means everyone is going to know in about an hour. Connie's going to be blowing up my phone any minute.” Jean throws his head back in frustration before quickly returning his eyes to the road.

“I can try to correct her, that we're just friends,” you quickly try to do damage control.

“Oh, uh, I didn't mean that. Let her think whatever she wants. Or I mean, uh,” he stutters and blushes. “She's your roommate, I didn't mean to tell you what to tell her.”

“No, that's fine. I'll just ignore her and she can make whatever she wants out of it,” you give a nervous laugh.

The car ride back to the city center is much more quiet and tense. It seems to you that Jean didn't want the night to end either. Despite the tension, you arrive back to your neighborhood much quicker than you expect.

“I can drop you off at your apartment so you don't have to walk in cold again,” Jean offers.

“Sure, thanks.”

He pulls up in front of your apartment building and you unbuckle and pause to look at Jean. Fuck it.

“Do you want to come in? Sasha's probably spending the night with Nicolo.”

“Oh, uh,” Jean pauses and your heart plummets to your stomach.

“It's okay, you don't have to.” You shuffle to open the car door, but Jean stops you.

“I'd love to, actually.”

Keeping with the theme of warm drinks, you make two hot chocolates with peppermint schnapps. Both of your warm outdoor clothing is piled in a heap on the chair by the front door. You and Jean curl up on the couch and move closer and closer to each other as you talk about everything and anything – your favorite movies, your various college activities (you learn Jean was also on the soccer team with Connie and Marco), all the different places you'd like to visit, the frustrations of trying to write or draw.

“Maybe if I wrote something really great I could move somewhere else someday,” you muse. “But until then, Trost it is.”

Jean leans in and lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. You freeze and gaze into his glowing hazel eyes.

“I'm glad you're here,” he breaths your name. An uncontrollable smile spreads across your face.

“Me too.” Warmth from both flirting with Jean and the schnapps spreads throughout your body. He leans in even closer.

“Can I . . .” he trails off. You don't need words to know what he's asking. You answer by surging forward and pressing your lips to his. You both taste like peppermint and dark chocolate. You pull back and giggle. A bold night indeed.

“So, coffee shop tomorrow?” He asks. You learn that you both frequented the coffee shop down the street but were rarely there at the same time. You nod.

“You bring your sketches, I'll bring my notebook,” you promise to hold each other to creating as much as possible.

“It's a date.” Jean looks at you and grins into his hot chocolate mug.

Turns out you have lots to tell Sasha.

[bajablasterrr]

Who You Gonna Call?

Chapter 1: Something Strange DC x DP Fic based off this post

Warnings: Major Character Death, Strong Language, Depictions of Violence

Rating: Mature

Author’s Note: For those who have been waiting for forever I apologize for how long it took me to crank out this one chapter this is my first time writing a Fic so any constructive criticism helps, also thank you soo much for the support ❤️. Update On Chapter 2 of “Who You Gonna Call?” It’s knots done jut need to finish a few final touches should be posted by Friday of Next Week

When you think about it, peace will never be the outcome. Not for him, not anymore.

Not while his Parents lay dead at his feet, not while his sister sobbed helplessly; never again will Danny Fenton ever know a peaceful life.

But he’s okay with that; he’s come to terms with how things stood and knew there wasn’t much left to figure out besides where he will go now.

He never thought he’d have to plan a life without his parents, never suspected that this family vacation would be the last.

Nor did he expect his sister to go from “Annoying Older Sibling.” To “My Only Living Family Member.” in less than a day.

This was inevitable with his line of work, but he never expected his life to be this crazy, at least not so soon.

For him, being half ghost used to feel like a gift, something he could use to help the people he cared about the most. Now it was a curse, a cancerous infection slowly seeping into everything he held close.

Because of his “gift.” everyone and everything he knew was gone, replaced by this empty confusing nothingness, all their hopes and dreams for him nothing more than lost memories.

His parents were gone, taken from him in some brutal twist of fate by some psychopathic clown they call “The Joker.” to be completely honest, Danny was feeling anger beyond rational thought every time he thought about him.

And the worst part about this was that everything everything that happened was all a ploy, some sort of elaborate trick to lure Batman to his hideout, and The Fenton’s were nothing more than pawns in The Joker’s scheme to kill him.

Not only did he kill his parents, but he did it with a smile as he made Danny watch, laughing at his suffering until he got what he wanted.

Danny was taken to the police station and asked to state what he experienced while begging held hostage by the Joker, but all he could do was stare blankly at the wall.

As he got interviewed by the police, news anchors, and other journalists, all he could think about was how he everyone down. His frustration was building up under the surface, and he felt sick.

“How could I let this happen.” he thought. 

His mind raced, his fingers felt numb, his chest heaved as if something was blocking his airway, and he felt like everything around him was closing in. The walls began to spin, and he could feel his throat closing up, tears welling in his eyes.

Jazz noticed his strange behaviour and tried her best to get him to calm him down, but the panic had already set in.

They were alone, he let this happen, and there was nothing he could do to fix this. Nothing at all

Dozens of forced statements later, Danny was drained.

Despite being the “Hero.” he was, he couldn’t help but feel so incredibly useless. They kept asking him the same questions repeatedly until the words melted into nothingness, his brain felt like swiss cheese, and he thought he would pass out at any second.

Jazz had to handle all of the legal proceedings, taking her parent’s estate, medical bills, funeral expenses, and everything else; She was overwhelmed, to say the least.

She had no idea what to do once they were done with the police, they had nowhere to go, and beyond that, they had nobody to help them.

Her head was swimming, and for a split second, she broke; Danny noticed his sister sobbing and went in to hug her.

“I’m sorry this happened, Jazz, really I am. I wish I could trade my life for theirs; I would,” he said, tears streaming down his face.

“Hey, I know this everything is so crazy, but don’t blame yourself for what happened. There’s nothing more you could’ve done, okay?” she replied, rubbing his head to soothe him.

“but I let everyone down. I’m the reason they’re dead; if I don’t do something to avenge them, then-” he said rapidly, beginning to panic again.

“Enough, no more vengeance, no more self-blame. You’re just a kid. Nobody should’ve put that responsibility on you-.” she tried to explain, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, Jazz. I’m not a kid anymore; I think I need to go for a walk and clear my head,” he said, pushing her off his and heading towards the door.

Jazz called out for him, but he was gone before she could get a word out.

As he walked the streets of Gotham City, he felt angry; at the world and at himself; he even felt anger towards his parents for suggesting this stupid trip. He wanted nothing more than to change the way things are right now, be somewhere different, and do something right for once.

He didn’t know what to do with himself; he walked around aimlessly for what felt like hours, looking for something, anything to do. He needed someone save; he wanted something to fight, anything in the world that would take his mind off things for a second.

all of a sudden, a blue mist leaves his mouth

“Finally.” he thought to himself

He changed into his ghost form quickly, and he waited. The tension in the air is thick, and he slowly looks around, hoping to see whatever is watching him.

“Don’t you know this place isn’t safe after dark?”

Danny looked around, trying to see where the voice came from,

“If I were you, I’d just turn around and head back home.”

“And why should I listen to you, wise and powerful shadow man?” Danny replied sarcastically

suddenly, he saw something jump from the fire escape down to the ground in front of him. He didn’t expect him to make that fall, let alone get up that easily.

He stood there frozen as the figure approached him, wearing a red helmet, a leather jacket, black pants, and a shirt with a red bat.

“I’ve heard of you before; you’re Red Hood, right?” Danny asked nonchalantly, trying to cut the tension of the situation

“In the flesh, and you’re that ghost kid “Phantom.” right?” he replied as he stepped closer to Danny, cornering him into a wall.

“Uh, Yep, in the flesh.” He said with a nervous chuckle

Danny was terrified; after the last couple of days he’s had, he didn’t want to take any chances with any more of the heroes or villains in Gotham.

Red Hood had him backed to a wall, his hand on the right side of Danny’s face.

“What’s your deal anyways, ghost boy? You want to run around being a vigilante, too?” he said, leaning in. 

“I-I’ve been a vigilante since the 9th grade,” he stuttered. “And for the record, I don’t need your permission to do anything, so why would you expect me to ask for it?.”

“Because if you don’t, I get to kick your ass and have you arrested for breaking curfew.” He replied

Danny chucked, “finally.”, he thought, “a reason to punch someone in the face.”

“respectfully, I’d like to see you try,” he said, cockiness radiating from his voice.

“fine, it is your funeral.”

@blackrabbitt3t @nedwec @blackstar-gazer @baykitthings @real-danny-phantom @hungrymentor @the-lokes @dizzydreamerzzz @phantom-phrases @sheep567 @lenoryt13 @theauthorandtheartist

@phantomskeep @arc-777 @dreamingasters @betinaplayingwriter @zeldomnyo @jaguarthecat @the-gay-florist @reinluna @gabrielandjackthenephilim @icepopstar5105us @skulld3mort-1fan

@batbootie @that-random-fangirl@cyber-geist@dat1angel@undead-essence@distractedducky@oddessy@dreamingasters@jarlyd@

[merrysithmas]

i really like reading your thoughts on "girl"! i was just wondering what you think might happen after paul passes? do you think people will start to examine the relationship between them as something more than just songwriting partners? i mean nothing really changed when yoko said john was bisexual (and some fans still don't believe it!). in my wildest dreams, paul's estate will drop a posthumous tell all book and we'll be left with so many questions lol.    

John himself said he was queer several times - I remember watching an interview with him when he was saying being an artist in a capitalist world requires money and that if he wasn't famous he'd need to have married "a rich old lady or man" to be a songwriter.

He also said he hooked up with Brian in Spain (Yoko confirmed he told the press they did "do it" and she was seemingly applauding his bravery in saying so).

Lennon remarked that he was "afraid of the fag in him" which made him act on his anger and set off his worst most fearsome temper explosions.

Also I think there was a few "tell alls" where past friends reported that he was open about his queerness & confirmed hooking up with Brian in frustration.

May Pang wrote that he told her he considered (lol) an affair with Paul. He spent two years in gay clubs in LA.

Yoko also confirmed he was bi (as far she she knew, maybe later on had he not been murdered he'd have identified as gay or pan).

Elton John said he and Lennon did "naughty" things together and laughed about said things with Sean, his godson. Julian Lennon did an interview where he said he "agreed" that John and Paul were in love during the Get Back film period.

Lennon also contributed a first-person poem the First Gay Liberation book.

Those are just the examples I can think of off the top of my head. He also seems to have had a relationship of some kind with Stu (conjecture) and an obvious-departed-from-platonic dynamic with Paul which is easily, easily an emotionally romantic affair at least (which isn't the half of it).

Anyone who denies his queerness does a great disservice to his memory & the incredible poignancy of his songs in this context during his time period. Artists have been reworking the lyrics and wording of their queer songs to appeal to an unaccepting general audience for commerciality FOREVER and to assume this was not done by Lennon, who is "confirmed" queer (if you needed to hear it from Yoko for it to be true to you) is truly delusion.

I think after Paul has left us people will feel more comfortable analyzing their relationship in a queer sense and I do think at some point it has likely been engineered that something to that effect will be officially announced or endorsed in some regard by their Estates (to generate continued moneymaking lol and interest and enigma). I feel like that's something that could happen, reasonably, after Yoko is gone and her hold on the Lennon narrative is diluted into Sean's POV & the McCartney family has the freedom to speculate or give their personal feelings on the life of their beloved father in retrospect. There's also the chance Paul could say something or leave something to that effect before he leaves us.

I feel like Paul would never say anything otherwise because John never got to endorse any release of their personal history before his tragic and senseless murder in a time period where being gay was still treated with such bigotry and cruelty (the 80s). I feel like Paul's great respect for Jane Asher and their relationship is a testament to this because he has never spoken about their relationship out of respect for her - for the exact reason that she has never spoke publically about it herself.

Paul is a pragmatic and private person and I feel like he knows the majority of the ignorant world isn't ready to hear the biggest band in human history was founded on teenaged homoromantic affection/gay love. But maybe one day, it will be.

This is speculation on my part but Paul also probably doesn't want Yoko to know anything because either she is willfully ignorant or John truly wasn't honest with her and Paul feels it's something she doesn't deserve to know - especially if it's something John kept private & only between he and Paul. It's something he always has that's over and beyond what Yoko and John had & he seems to treasure those specific things no matter what they are. Obviously... Paul still doesn't care for Yoko and he is probably extremely fatigued of the fact that she has been the managing agent & author of John's estate for 40 years (when in the late 70s she and John seemed on unsteady terms as per other parties) and then treated Julian with such disregard. Sean on the other hand seems to have grown to love Paul, but we'll see lol.

I also feel like Paul probably has a few "surprises" for Beatles fans lined up for after he and Ringo are gone - he just seems like that kind of person and wants the Beatles to continue on in great esteem for many many years to come.

thank you for your ask!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for texting my GF’s mom?

Me (23M) and my girlfriend (25F) have been dating for 6 years and some change now. We have a wonderful relationship, are incredibly supportive and loving to each other, and overall things are great.

Since we’ve been together, we’ve been long distance, living a state away and seeing each other in person once every couple of months. This is primarily because I have a stable job and comfortable living situation in my home state, and she’s staying in her home state to help take care of her family. This is where things get a bit sticky.

She is the only adult in her home besides her mother, and the only one who works in the house. They take care of her 4 younger siblings (between 2-12). Her mother has become less and less kind to her throughout the years, blaming my GF for the situation they’re living in and constantly insulting her for everything under the sun. It’s somewhere between unappreciative and cruel to actively emotionally abusive, but my GF doesn’t want to leave yet in fear of the kids losing their only source of stability and real support.

My GF’s mom and I aren’t fans of each other. She seems to think I’ve brainwashed her daughter and want to take her away from her family forever. She often tells my GF that she should break up with me and find someone closer and more willing to directly support her family. When I come up to visit, we almost never talk to each other, although in the past I’ve stayed at their home, she usually stays in her room avoiding me. I’ve babysat the kids before, gone grocery shopping for her, and driven her to go hook up with a dude an hour away in the past, but whenever she wants something like this she’ll communicate that by texting my GF and telling her to tell me.

A few months ago my GF and I had a special anniversary trip we had been dreaming about for years we planned out and ready to go. We went out and had a beautiful time together. While we were out, my GF’s mom told my GF to tell me to run to the store to grab some baby food when we got back. I begrudgingly agreed, because at the end of the day that just meant a few extra minutes with her.

So it’s time to return, I bring my GF back to her home so she can grab the money for the baby food. When she comes back out from the house, she has a car seat with her. She explains that her mom wants us to take the youngest child with us as we go out to get the baby food.

This rubs me the wrong way for a lot of reasons. I feel like this is being sprung up on me and like I have no say in the matter, as well as my car being in really rough condition and not super trusting it with children. I tell my GF I really don’t want to take the youngest with us. We go back and forth for a bit, her explaining that she’ll hear it until the end of time if I don’t, and just not wanting to have to deal with the nonsense she’ll have to go through if we don’t take her. I stand my ground, she tells her mother, and I end up leaving not even going to the grocery store at all.

I was a bit torn up by this, and after stopping for lunch, I send the following text message to my GF’s mother:

A few hours later, I get the following response:

At the time, my GF was pretty upset that I had texted her mother at all, because she’d have to deal with her mother’s outrage about it on a daily basis. Although her and I have since smoothed things over, she was right in that her mother has held a grudge and made her life worse about it ever since.

So, Tumblr, I ask today: AITA for not taking the youngest kid to the store? For sending that text knowing the trouble it was going to cause my GF? Was the way I worded that text disrespectful in a way I failed to see?

What are these acronyms?