#the flowers… wowza

[bloxxdreamssys]

explodes him with mind /aff /p i love this old man character belongs 2 @/pinktrashgoblin not me

[tokkiwrites]

summary: you own a local flower shop, and with each passing day, you notice the same man come byㅡ watching. you try to forget about him and try your hand at dating, but you didn't know you were his from the first day he laid his eyes on you. tags: obsessive/stalker!sergei kravinoff , afab reader, mention of violation, short mention of murder, mean sergei, degradation, unprotected p in v (spooky!), head m receiving, breath play, creampie, slight breeding kink. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! the last fic is her, wowza! i had so much fun writing all of these for you guys, n i hope you enjoyed them as much as i did. this has around 4.48k words, so it's the longest of the bunch. i loved the premise. >:) obsessive kraven and flower shop owner reader. remember, this is all fiction, and i dont encourage behavior like that in real life!!! anyway, maybe i will make it into a series. not betad!

It started in April. You remember because the daffodils had just come in, their yellow heads still stiff from the cold. You’d been wiping down the counter, lost in your routine, when you first noticed him— standing across the street, his eyes fixed on your window. He wasn’t a regular, not even someone you’d ever seen around town, but something about the way he stood there, hands buried in the pockets of his worn coat, made you pause.

He hadn’t come in that day, just lingered for a while before moving on. But the image of him stayed with you long after—broad shoulders, sharp features, his face caught in the shadow of his collar like he was hiding something.

That was six months ago.

Now, it’s October. The light is thinner, weaker, as you arrange chrysanthemums in small clusters. You catch sight of him again today, across the street like always. It’s not every day, but often enough that you’ve come to expect it. Sometimes, you wonder what he does in the moments between his appearances, where he goes. Why he always walk past but never stops.

You try to shake it off, focusing on the customer in front of you. An older man, looking for a dozen roses, but his words don’t quite register. You’ve seen the way Sergei watches the shop, the way his gaze follows people inside, lingering too long when you talk to other men. You shouldn’t care, but the thought of it—of him—sends a strange warmth flooding through you.

The old man clears his throat, and you snap back to reality, managing an awkward smile as you finish wrapping the bouquet.

“Thanks,” you mumble, handing it over.

Outside, Sergei is gone.

It’s three days later when the bell above your door finally rings, and he steps in. The air shifts with his presence, something heavy and deliberate in the way he moves toward the counter. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t soften the rough edges of his voice when he finally speaks.

“Do you have anything that lasts longer than a week?” he asks, his gaze holding yours in a way that makes it hard to breathe. His accent is faint, buried under years of elsewhere, but it’s there, just enough to make the question sound more like a demand.

You blink, trying to remember what he said. “Uh, the lilies,” you manage. “They—um, they hold up pretty well.”

He nods, eyes shifting to the bouquets behind you, though you can’t shake the feeling that he’s still looking at you, not the flowers. He doesn’t say anything. he just lets the silence stretch between you until you turn to gather a few stems. Your fingers tremble slightly, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re here a lot,” you say quietly, not sure why you decided to speak now, but needing to fill the space. “I mean… passing by.”

Sergei’s lips twitch, just enough to show the hint of a smile, but there’s nothing warm about it. “I walk this way often.” You nod, though the answer feels hollow, like it’s only part of the truth.

As you wrap the lilies, you feel his eyes on you, studying you, and something about it is thrilling in a way you don’t want to admit. When you finally hand him the flowers, your fingers brush his, just for a second. His skin is rough, cold, and the touch leaves a shiver running up your spine.

“Thank you,” he says, but there’s something strange in his voice, like the words are unfamiliar to him. Then, without another word, he’s gone.

By November, you’ve almost convinced yourself that it’s nothing. Sergei’s just a quiet man, someone who happens to walk by your shop. You try not to think about him too much, though that’s easier said than done. The men who come into the shop are kind, sweet even. You’ve gone out for coffee a few times, tried to meet their eyes, and pretend you felt something for them. But it never lasts.

None of them leave you breathless like Sergei does with just a glance.

And that’s the problem. You don’t know him. You know nothing about him, except the way he makes you feel—on edge, watched, but also... wanted. It’s confusing, this push and pull, this desire for someone you barely know. And it doesn’t help that, whenever you catch his gaze, there’s something dark in it. Something possessive. Something that makes you wonder what he’s thinking when he sees you talking to other men.

it's like you already belong to him; and you know it.

It’s late November when it happens again. The first cold snap has set in, the chill making your breath cloud the window as you adjust a vase of poinsettias. The shop is quiet, and you’re alone, lost in thought, when the door opens and Sergei steps in once more. His presence fills the space, the air somehow feeling heavier, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

“I’ll take the white ones,” he says, gesturing toward the lilies. His voice is lower this time, rougher, like he’s been thinking too much or not sleeping enough.

You wrap them in silence, aware of his eyes on you again. The tension between you feels thicker today, almost unbearable. As you hand him the bouquet, you can’t stop yourself from asking, “Do you ever buy these for someone?”

Sergei’s eyes flicker, narrowing slightly. For a moment, you think he won’t answer, but then he leans forward just a fraction, his voice low and controlled.

“No."

It’s just a word, but it wraps itself around you, a confirmation of something unspoken. You look down, feeling heat rise in your cheeks, and when you glance up again, he’s already turning to leave.

“See you soon,” he mutters before the door closes behind him, and you realize that you want to.

It’s late December now, and the snow has started to fall, gentle flakes that coat the windows of your little shop. The poinsettias are in full bloom, their deep reds and whites filling the space with a festive calm. But your mind isn’t on flowers today. It’s been difficult to focus lately—especially after last week.

That was the day Sergei saw you cry.

You hadn’t meant for anyone to see. The shop had been empty, the late afternoon light casting long shadows as you sat on the stool behind the counter, head in your hands. You’d just finished arguing with Mark, a guy you’d been seeing for a few weeks. Nothing serious, but you thought maybe it could be, until he said something that cut deeper than you expected. Something cruel, dismissive, about how you were "too quiet," how it was "hard to keep a conversation going with someone who never has anything to say."

You hadn’t even responded, too stunned by the way he looked at you, like your softness was some kind of weakness. So you let him leave, biting your lip until the door closed behind him. It wasn’t until later, when you were alone, that the tears came.

Sergei must have been watching from across the street, unnoticed as usual, though this time he didn’t just walk by. You hadn’t seen him enter, hadn’t heard the bell chime, but suddenly he was there, standing in the corner of the shop. Silent. His eyes were on you, sharp and steady, watching the tears slip down your cheeks.

For a moment, he said nothing. Didn’t ask if you were okay, didn’t offer any words of comfort. He just stood there, his expression unreadable. But something about the way he looked at you made you shiver—not from the cold, but from the feeling that he liked seeing you like this. Vulnerable. Soft and broken, just for him to witness.

You’d wiped your face quickly, embarrassed, pulling yourself together before he could say anything. And then, just as silently as he’d appeared, Sergei had left, the door closing softly behind him. You didn’t know what to make of it. The way his presence lingered after he was gone, like a shadow that clung to the edges of your thoughts.

It wasn’t until a few days later, after another argument with Mark, that things turned. Mark had come back, all apologies and excuses, but something about the way he spoke to you still felt off. He’d asked you to meet him after work, so you did, more out of habit than desire. The conversation hadn’t gone well. He was frustrated, saying things he didn’t mean, but the look in his eyes as he spoke made you flinch. It wasn’t until he grabbed your wrist—harder than he should have—that the tears started again. This time, not out of sadness, but fear.

What you didn’t know was that Sergei had been watching. He always seemed to know when you needed to be seen, always appeared at the edges of your world when you thought you were alone. Later, you would wonder how he knew where to find Mark. Whether he followed him, waited, or if it was just luck that they crossed paths that night after you’d gone home, shaken and silent. All you knew was that Mark never came back.

You didn’t see the violence, didn’t hear the crack of bone or the dull thud of a body hitting the ground, but when the news came days later—a body found in the river, no suspects—you felt the air in your lungs freeze. You tried to convince yourself it was a coincidence, tried to push away the gnawing suspicion in your gut. But when Sergei came into the shop the next day, silent and cold as always, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew. That he had done something.

It was snowing again when he walked in, the cold biting at the edges of the door before it clicked shut behind him. You were alone, rearranging the poinsettias for the third time that day, trying to distract yourself from the unease settling in your chest.

“You alright?” His voice was low, almost a growl, breaking the silence. His accent was sharper today, more pronounced, as if he was trying to draw you in with the weight of his words.

You didn’t look up right away. “I’m fine,” you whispered, though it didn’t sound convincing even to your own ears.

He took a step closer, his boots heavy against the wooden floor, and you felt the tension settle over you like a second skin. When you finally met his gaze, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch. A darkness. Something more than just quiet observance. Something possessive.

“Mark,” he said slowly, testing the name in his mouth like it was something he had already chewed up and spat out. “He won’t bother you anymore.” You blinked, confused, the words hanging in the air between you like a dense fog. He wasn’t asking. He was telling you. And in that moment, you understood. “What did you do?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from him.

Sergei didn’t answer right away, just watched you in that way he always did—intense, unblinking. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected, but no less terrifying.

“I did what needed to be done.”

Your heart raced, the realization sinking in. You should have felt scared, horrified even, but instead, you felt... safe. Like, in some twisted way, Sergei was protecting you, looking after you in ways no one else had.

It was wrong. You knew it was wrong. But standing there, in that small shop filled with delicate flowers and fragile stems, you felt something stir inside you—a recognition of the dark and dangerous things hiding just beneath the surface of his calm exterior. You should have told him to leave. You should have been afraid. But instead, you took a breath, nodded slowly, and whispered, “Thank you.”

Sergei’s lips twitched again, that almost-smile that never quite reached his eyes. Then, without another word, he came closer, the cold air from outside still clinging to him. "Is it wrong I want to kiss you right now?" he asks, voice rough, like the question wasn't even thatㅡ it was undeniable.

You couldn't speak. The words stuck in your throat as your pulse quickened. You should say something, anything. You should step back, put distance between you, but you didn't. Instead, your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, none of which seemed capable of grounding you.

Sergei's gaze flickered to your lips, his hand lifting slightly, like he might reach out and touch you but was holding himself back, his restraint barely visible under the surface. There was something raw in his voice, something that made your chest tighten because you weren't sure if it was wrong- or if it was exactly what you wanted too.

But it was dangerous. He was dangerous. You knew that now. You'd felt it from the start, Still, you stood frozen, much like the trees outside. You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice, though it was barely a whisper. "I don't know if it's wrong..."

His fingers brushed your jaw, slow, deliberate, as though testing your reaction. And then, so bitter, he murmured, “Is it wrong that… I want to see you cry, but not by the hands of others?”

The words stood there between you, filling the space with something you couldn’t quite name. Your breath caught in your throat, a sharp, involuntary intake, the meaning of what he said settled over you like ice. You should have felt fear—anyone else would have—but instead, there was only that pulse of something in your core you couldn't ignore.

His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, lingering near your lips, his eyes still locked on yours. You tried to swallow the sudden lump in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest, but the intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it impossible to move or even think clearly. it all felt hazy.

You should step back, should pull away. This was crossing a line, a line you hadn’t even realized existed until now. But you didn’t. You stood there, the tension between you thick enough to suffocate, his words playing over and over in your mind until he spoke again.

Sergei’s hand moved to your chin, tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. There was a heat there, something primal and raw, something he wasn’t hiding anymore. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer, yet somehow even more dangerous.

“I don’t want anyone else to hurt you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your lower lip, “but I want to see you break—because of me.” The confession should have terrified you, should have sent you running. instead, you felt yourself leaning into his touch, your body betraying the warning signs flashing in the back of your mind.

“Why?” you whispered, voice trembling. Sergei’s eyes flickered with amusement, as if he was mocking you. “Because,” he said slowly, his grip on your chin tightening just enough to make your breath hitch, “I want to know how far you’ll let me go.”

You could feel the space closing in, feel the weight of his words sinking deeper. It was a game nowㅡ his game, one you weren’t sure you knew how to play, but it was too late to back out. And somehow, some part of you didn’t want to.

you'd let him do it all. anything.

You stared at him, unsure of whether you should push him away or pull him closer. But the truth, the part you couldn’t admit to yourself, was that a twisted, hurt part of you wanted to let him see you break, wanted to be undone by him and only him. "Please kiss me." you manage to pull out from the pit of your soul, your senses filled by his smell mixed with the ones in your flower shop.

In one swift, consuming motion, he kissed you. It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was intense, fierce, like he'd been holding back for too long. His lips crashed against yours with a hunger that matched the heat rising in your chest. You felt his fingers thread into your hair, pulling you closer, as though he needed to feel you against him, needed to claim this moment.

And in that instant, all the fear, all the uncertainty, melted away. There was nothing left but him.

For a few seconds, he pulls away from the kiss, staring at your puffy lips and blushed cheeks, like he’s studying the effect he has on you, savoring it. "I want to have you crumble through my fingers and then build you up just to have you kneel at my feet again." It’s twisted, wrong, but it lights something inside of you, making you drip with arousal.

"You want this." he breathes against your lips, "I can see it." Sergei leans in, nose now flush to your neck as he huffs a deep inhale. "Smell it." you can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder, palms riding down to cup your hips, grip not easing. "Feel it." he draws a long strip from the crook of your neck up to your ear, earning a soft moan from your parted lips. "Let me ruin you."

It wasn't a request but a demand, one that you were far too deep to deny him. the panties you had on were already soaked, and your hair stood up on end as Sergei trailed his calloused fingertips down your back. "Please..." it sounded so pathetic, weak, but that made him desire this even more. he listened to your pleads in no time, practically ripping the clothes off of you. the cold air hit your body, making it sting, nipples now pebbled. this was never something you imagined could happen, you fully naked and him fully clothed, scanning you as if you were his next full course meal.

"Kneel." this catches you off guard, but he's quick to notice the lack of response so he takes it in his own hands to make you obey. He roughly pushes you down to your knees, tapping the top of your head to look up at him. he's fast, unapologetic and carnal. he's what you're notㅡ what you need.

"Say you're sorry." The word cuts through the air, sharp and commanding, but you couldn’t understand why, it left you dumbfounded and for a split second, you just stare at him, breathless, unsure. "F-for what?" Sergei, ever attuned to your hesitation, doesn’t wait for you to respond. His patience isn’t one of his virtues, and you’re learning that quickly. he tuts, rolling i strand of your hair through his digits. “What do you mean ‘for what?’” he repeats slowly, his voice dripping with disdain, as though you should already know. “How many guys have you seen since you met me?”

Your stomach tightens at the accusation, the memory of each fleeting, empty attempt at connection flashing in your mind—Mark, and the others who never seemed to fill the space Sergei occupied without even trying. He leans down, his voice dropping to a near whisper, but there’s nothing soft about the way his words cut into you. “Even though you knew—felt—that you belonged to me?” it makes you realize you’d never stood a chance.

"Say it." you can feel the truth claw its way out. “IㅡI’m sorry.” a satisfied gleam flashing in his eyes. But the hunger remains. He isn’t done, not yet.

“Good girl,” your tummy flips as he says those words, a soft smile creeping upon your face. that feeling dissipates quick as you hear the buckle on his pants come undone and with a swift motion his zipper coming down.

"Show me how sorry you are." Sergei bites, taking out his hard-on and letting it spring free. your eyes widened at the sight. you'd never seen something so bigㅡ it was intimidating, but the churn in your stomach pushed you closer, slowly wraping your rosy lips around the tip. "yeah, like that. i wanna see you choke on my cock, c'mon." he says before thrusting deep in your throat, "Maybe if you weren’t such a needy whore.." he drags out "I would've fucked that pretty pussy like you wanted me to. But you don't deserve it. Not yet. You need to know who you belong to." he snaps his hips, the tip of his dick promptly hitting the back of your esophagus, drool and tears already dripping down your face.

for a moment he stops, and you feel him pull out a little bit, leaving only half of his shaft inside of your mouth, two of his fingers pinching your nose, cutting off your air supply. he was toying with you. "what if i keep you like this? make you sit like this, unable to breathe at all, with my cock down your throat... get you all dizzy and stupid." it was so sweet the way he said such bad things.

tears well up in your eyes, mind spinning as your heartbeat picks up, yet his hips don't budge and the pinch on your nose strengthens. "Look at me." and you do, all teary eyed and fucked out. Sergei's chest heaves up as he mutters a low 'God.', his other palm coming up to wipe your tears away. "You're so pretty like this." he lets go of your nose and you finally take in a big gasp of air just as he pulls back and burries his cock deep in your throat again making you gag. "So pretty when you cry."

his moves are deliberate, large palms on both sides of your head as his hips snap. drool pools from your mouth, falling onto your exposed thighs. you try to hold onto his legs for a little stability, but it was all too disorienting, so you were left at his mercy. with a few more harsh thrusts, he comes ropes down your throat and onto your tongue with a loud groan. "Swallow. All of it." You obey, the salty liquid now all gone from your mouth.

"Bend over the counter." you swiftly comply, scrambling to your feet. obliging his orders, you bend over the counter that still had a few petals scattered here and there, bare ass and cunt on full display. "mm.." sergei licks his lips before palming the small of your back "so pretty for me."

you completely shattered under his touch, his fingertips drawing small fires that spread through you in clusters, desperate whines escaping past your swollen lips. "please..." he roughly grabs you by the back of your head, leaning in to talk directly into your ear. "did i say you can talk?" you shake your head no, shuddering as you feel Sergei's beard rub against your pebbled skin.

pushing back your hips in gripe, you manage to get your face unwaveringly pressed to the countertop. "Don't be greedy now." With that, he nimbly plunged two fingers into your mouth, making you gasp. "Suck them like you did my cock." that's all you needed to hear, fleetly wrapping your lips around his thick fingers, sucking and swirling your tongue around them like there was no tomorrow.

pushing the fingers deeper, he wins a muffled gag, your tongue pressed flush against them. "yeah, good little whore." your walls were twitching around nothing, that familiar warm wetness spreading between your thighs that were parted by Sergei's knee. "Need'a prep youㅡ"

"No! pleaseㅡ hurry.."

he laughs, almost mocking you. "fuck, I'll tear right through you, little flower." Without any warning, he flips you over, fisting his shaft, aligning it with your fluttering entrance. "Filthy girl." inhaling a sharp breath, your muscles tense up as he plunges inside of your wetness all at once, with no warning. you writhe in pain for a bit, tears already spilling from the corner of your glossy eyes.

"Look at you swallowing me in." he groans, sinking his fingernails into the plush of your skin "c'mon, tell me you're sorry for being such an attention whore. apologize so i don't kill every man who looked your way." it was all so wrong, so dirty and vile, but it was making your tummy churn in excitement and blood pulse through your veins like nothing else. you felt so insane for liking the ideas Sergei put into your head, but you loved feeling insane as long as it was for him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so s-orry, pleaseㅡ" you moan as he drills deep into you, back flush to the cold counter. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes and apologize." he was so stoic, like he wasn't even destroying your insides right that moment. more tears fall from your eyesㅡ pleasure, fear, actually apologetic tears. you didn’t know which it was. but they fell like pearls. "I'm so-rry, 'm sorry, so sorry.." you were breathless, repeating those same words over and over again, as Sergei sped up his movements, your legs now closed together over one of his shoulders as he fucked into you with no remorse. "Shitㅡ fuck, 'm gonna come. gonna come so deep inside and make you keep it there, make you go to work with my come inside of you, fuck, you'd like that?"

"P-lease...pleaseㅡ! " With a loud plead, you reach your high, walls tightening around Sergei's shaft, causing him to growl. you were left shaking, thighs uncontrollably wriggling in the mans tight hold. with a few more pumps, he paints your walls with warm, white ribbons, panting soft 'you're mine's into the crook of your neck.

you cling to him, breathing in his scent as his seed slowly drips out from within you. you hear him hum before placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. "my little flower."

[fehzsterr]

Day 4: Pyrovision

Wowza! Butterflies, rainbows, pretty flowers everywhere!!

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

Ent wife: I hate people that chop trees. I never forgive ANYONE

Arondir: Hi I'm Arondir and I chopped trees a lot

Ent wife: Wowza. Here have some flowers get comfortable take off your shirt I forgive you instantly

Arondir: ???

Ent wife: What the heck chop ME next time

[cinnamoodles]

the language of flowers — part one, daises

warnings: angst, of course, and bad writing? ooc anthony bc i suck and thats unwarranted <33

word count: 1.8k (wowza)

author’s note: hello! this is my first published fic, so im pretty sure it’s going to be horrible, but i had this idea after reading Sherlock Holmes, so… im excited, i guess? this is part of a series i will publish, but for now... yay! first fic celebration!

read the other parts! — part two, irises | part three, peonies

i don’t consent for my work to be reposted or copied, translated, or transferred to any other platform, or this one, in part or whole.

--------- . . . ---------

i. 1802, bellis perennis. daisies, platonic love

It was a day in which the sun blazed as though it had a fury against all of England, the sweltering heat resulting in most of the country to stay indoors, and perhaps enjoy a cool glass of lemonade. The unforgiving rays of the sun shone glitteringly on the lake, as if to mock those who stayed inside, flamboyantly displaying its beauty.

Anthony Bridgerton was a boy, (or a man, as he liked to proclaim himself, as he was just a year from being eighteen), who did not like to stay inside, especially on a glorious day like this. He liked to forget the matter that it was well over 35 degrees celsius, but in his words, such a beautiful, sunny day should not go to waste.

“Why have you dragged me out here, Mr. Bridgerton?” You groan against the thick coat of your own horse. As the only daughter of a Duke with three sons, you had to dress up prim and proper, much to your chagrin, before going out, especially with a boy, whether it be one of your closest friends or not. You run your hands through your hair—which you've left open, because, in your words, damn society, no single person should be subject to those horrid pins in their hair on a hot summer's day!, before you stormed out of your estate, to head to the stables to find solace in one of your most trusted companions.

He grins, sending a flutter of butterflies amok in your stomach. Deep inside, you knew that there was no way that he would ever even consider you romantically, as you were exactly the age of his brother, Benedict, who, no doubt, was ever the charmer, but Anthony had a special place in your heart. Your first love, (could one even call it love? You would often dismiss it as infatuation, but when he looked at you like that, how could your youthful little heart disregard it?), and most of all, your first friend. “Well,” he starts, “first of all, you can cease the formalities, or I’ll push you off your horse.” He leisurely rides up next to you, smirking. “And there isn’t any harm in calling on my closest friend for a few hours of her time, is there not?”

“Of course not, but you know how my mother hounds me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing the nape of your neck. “It is almost as if…” reddening, you bite your lip. You knew that your mother was always on a tirade on how you and Anthony would be perfect together, but you know that he did not feel the same way. You sneak in a gaze at his soft dark hair, and his gorgeous, deep brown eyes, always glimmering with mischief of some sort. 

He turned to you, frowning. “As if? She hasn’t got a problem with me, has she?”

Your eyes widen, and you quickly backtrack on your words. “No! No, of course she hasn’t got a problem with you, she’s just a bit… spirited, that’s all. Just very spirited and a woman very worried about what society has to say about me—not that I care, of course.”

“Just let her know that I’m most definitely not giving up my friendship with you just because of the nonsense the Ton spews on an hourly basis.” You give an extremely unladylike snort at his words, which sends the both of you into a fit of laughter.

The both of you finally reach the site that Anthony must have wanted to show you. It’s a corner beside the lake, with a patch of wildflowers and a small woodland area behind it. The sunlight shines onto the surface of the lake, and small dragonflies lazily float around the flowers. What entrances you most is the flora near the area. While, of course, you've seen flowers before, since your own father boasts one of the most intricate gardens in London, there isn’t any garden that could hold a candle to the natural beauty, the wild, untamed, disorderly allure of this particular strip of land. Fireweed and cattails rub against the agrimonies and bellflowers, and you have to physically stop yourself from letting your jaw drop and stare at the scene in front of you.

The dark-haired boy enthusiastically gets down from his horse, rubbing his eyebrow, and holds his hand out to your stunned self. You bite back a smirk when you notice his actions, and steady yourself against his glove. “I don’t need you to do all this,” you tease. “I can get down from a horse just fine by myself.”

“Really?” He smirks. “Alright then.” Letting go of you abruptly, he wipes off his hands on his breeches, while behind him, you trip to the ground, dust pooling and clouding around you, and you land on your ankle.

“Ow!” You shriek, your hands scratched from the rough, gravelly grass. You examine your ankle, which is slightly swollen and red, along with giving you large, throbbing pains. “Anthony, you’re such a prick!” You steady yourself against a tree trunk when he turns around and sees you, in pain. He quickly rushes to your side, steadying you by placing his hands on your hips, and you try, (and fail), to ignore your heart working on overdrive. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Really, I didn’t know it would hurt you, I didn't know you were that high up.”

“What do you know, then?” You grumble, trying to hold weight on your foot. When you wince, Anthony immediately carries you in his arms in a bridal hold, and you have to take all the willpower you have to not stare at his biceps, or worse, swoon right there. “Anthony! Put me down!” You cry, halfheartedly, your inner thoughts wishing that he wouldn’t listen to a word you said. “If you drop me, I swear I will hurt you.”

“Y/N,” he smiles at you, “trust me, I know better than to cross you by now.” He readjusts his hands, and one of them, (you’re too frazzled to notice which), lands on the small of your back, and you are sure that you will combust within a second if he keeps this up. “And,” he continues, “I haven’t dragged you all the way here just so you can go home. And trust me, you're not heavy at all.” He smirks, raising one of his hands so that you can see it, and taps your nose.

“Anthony—oh god—what the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Proving you haven't got anything to worry about. Don’t worry, darling.” The word sends a shiver down your spine, and the moment just seems so perfect: you, in his arms, his dark, dreamy eyes gazing into your own, his breath hot on your cheek. He smells of sandalwood and citrus—the same smell that haunts you day and night, in your dreams and nightmares.

You relax into his arms, and are snapped out of your daze only by the soft brush of something against your nose—petals? You open your eyes to a grinning Anthony, tapping your face with a hastily bundled bunch of flowers.

“Anthony,” you frown, “I was relaxing. Do not forget that you caused my devastating injury.” You pout, widening your eyes and biting your lips, trying to play the fact that you’re merely an innocent bystander of his tomfoolery. He sighs, and waves the flowers in front of your face.

“That is precisely what this is for, you hypochondriac—ow! Sorry! I picked you flowers, because you're so microscopic that I can carry you with one hand.” He gently placed you down on a gravelly stone bench, among the wildflowers and its concomitant insects, hurriedly putting a bouquet of flowers in your hand. 

Daises.

The Guide for Flora for Debutantes: Resplendent in its simplicity, the daisy's tender white petals encircle a sunny heart, a poignant reflection of the chaste and enduring affection shared amongst esteemed companions of a non-romantic nature. The suitor that gives this flower to you may not desire to pursue a romantic relation, but shows no ill will towards you, and would in fact like to continue a relationship based purely on friendship. 

Your mind flashes to a paragraph in one of your least-loved books, but one your governess insisted you study. Perhaps he didn’t mean to give you these gut-wrenching, heartbreaking flowers, flowers that left your soul shattered on the ground, due to your dramatics. Men, in particular, were never very observant when it came to flowers. “Well, there might be a privilege to being microscopic then,” you smile, feigning delight. “Say,” you gaze up at Anthony’s eyes, “what made you pick these particular ones? Is there anything special about daises?”

“Er, no…” Anthony frowned. “They were the only ones that looked nice enough to give to you. The others looked like weeds, if I am being completely forthright.” You stifle a laugh, and perhaps there indeed was no symbolism behind the flowers the gave you, nothing other than fate.

As you settle on the stone bench, your ankle throbbing slightly, you peer at the bouquet of daises now cradled in your hand. The delicate blossoms seem to mirror the delicate dance of emotions within your heart, or so your heart believes. Anthony's actions have always been a mixture of exasperating and endearing, and this moment is no different.

"Anthony," you say, suppressing a smile, "your chivalry knows no bounds, it seems." He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Ah, my dear, a gentleman's duty is to come to the rescue of a damsel in distress, is it not?" You roll your eyes with a playful sigh, though your heart flutters at his words. There's a familiarity between you that goes beyond mere friendship, a connection that has woven itself over years of shared experiences. But society's expectations and the complexities of your own heart keep those feelings hidden beneath the surface. 

"Are you suggesting that I am in distress, Mr. Bridgerton?" you retort, raising an eyebrow. His smile widens, and he takes a seat beside you on the bench. 

"Perhaps not in distress, but certainly in need of a flower-bearing rescuer." He quips, gently nudging your shoulder. You both share a laugh, the tension that briefly hung in the air dissipating like morning mist. There's a sense of ease in his company that you've never found elsewhere, a comfort that stems from him, merely his presence.

A sense of home—of love, and for now, it did not matter if he didn’t feel it, but the warm feeling that enveloped you was merely your own to enjoy.

[hannahmanderr]

Supernova - Prologue

Read on AO3

Summary: The Ghost Zone is tearing itself apart. The instability threatens the future of both Earth and the Infinite Realms. Danny isn't exactly thrilled that for some reason, the responsibility to restore balance falls on him. And he's definitely not thrilled at the prospect of having to use the Ring and the Crown to do so. (Ghost King AU)

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Contrary to popular belief, the Infinite Realms do have a center. Not a physical center, to say, but a center nonetheless.

It is from this center that a shudder rippled across the Realms.

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Of all the ghosts to notice the shudder, Sydney Poindexter was the first.

“Wowza!” He shook out his head and his shoulders. “That meatloaf just goes right through ya, huh?”

He didn’t notice how the ectoplasmic construct of Casper High and its students flickered violently for the briefest of moments.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skulker grinned as the pegasus he had his sights set on inched closer to the trap he’d laid out. “That’s it, just a little more,” he said, not daring to speak above a whisper. He’d been hunting this particular pegasus for nearly three weeks now, and each time he’d gotten close, it’d slipped out of his grasp.

Today would be different.

The pegasus’ nose flared as it sniffed the fiery flowers he’d set up as a food bait. He tensed in anticipation. So close now, just a couple feet further…

The shudder tore through the Badlands.

Skulker, caught off-guard, stumbled backwards as it passed through him. The pegasus whinnied in fear and bolted away.

For a moment, he could only sit there in stunned silence, not even caring that he’d just lost his quarry again. “What in blazes…?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A yeti barreled into Frostbite’s cave, gasping his name. 

Frostbite was already standing. “Gruefang,” he said. “I take it you felt it as well?”

“Yes, Chief,” Gruefang nodded. “Even the young felt it, and you know their bodies are not as in tune with the environment.”

The look on Frostbite’s face was grave, completely unlike his ironically warm demeanor. “Then it may be worse than I feared.”

In three quick strides, he crossed the cavern and opened a chest to pull out two scrolls. One was small and blank; the other was much larger, much more weathered, and detailed on both sides with drawings of islands, doors, portals, and other landmarks.

“The Infi-Map?” Gruefang asked, peering over Frostbite’s shoulder. “What do you intend to do with it?”

“Summon Fleetfloe,” Frostbite instructed. He unrolled the blank scroll and began to write on it with a claw dipped in ink. “Tell her I need her to carry a message to the Acropolis of Asphodel for me.”

“Of course, Chief. What is the message?”

Frostbite hastily finished scrawling his written message on the scroll, then rolled it back up and fastened it shut with a seal of ice. “This should have the relevant details,” he said, handing both it and the Infi-Map to Gruefang. “She should seek out the Lady Pandora and tell her… tell her I must know if Kilaris grows unstable. If it is as I suspect, then we cannot delay action any longer.”

Gruefang’s beady eyes grew wide. “Kilaris?” he whispered, as though saying the name any louder would cause it to shatter. “Are you certain?”

“... unfortunately so.” If possible, a heavier weight seemed to fall over Frostbite’s shoulders. “Go quickly. There is no time to waste.

“And… pray that I am wrong,” he added quietly as Gruefang sprinted out of the cave.

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Clockwork’s tower was not immune to the shudder, either. The hundreds of clocks spread across Long Now each stumbled over a few misplaced seconds as the shudder washed over them. 

If Clockwork himself felt it pass through him, though, he did not show it. He simply kept his gaze fixed resolutely on the time window in front of him, showing Fleetfloe rapidly approaching the Acropolis. A sigh escaped him and echoed into the chorus of clocks that had resumed their ticking.

Everything was as it should be.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vlad massaged his temple as he stormed into his City Hall office. The meeting with the head of the city council had been just as insufferable as he’d predicted - as these meetings always were.

Bureaucracy and its silly complexities. If he could, he’d choose to run Amity Park the same way he ran his businesses, with him as the ultimate decision maker. Things would just be so much simpler. 

He collapsed into his desk chair with a dramatic flourish. Barely 10:30 in the morning and he was already nursing a migraine. Splendid. 

Perhaps a pick-me-up was in order.

He rummaged in his desk - quite literally in his desk, he phased a hand into a hollowed out compartment he’d personally installed - and pulled out a silver flask. He popped off the cap and took a deep inhale of the green vapor that drifted out of the top. Yes, this blend of ectoplasmic supplements would work nicely to stimulate his ghost half’s healing.

He raised the flask in a sardonic toast to no one in particular. “Another day, yet another problem to solve,” he said in his driest voice.

He’d no sooner than put the flask to his lips when the shudder passed through him.

Acidic green liquid stained the rug as the flask fell from his grasp. The feeling that flooded Vlad took him back over twenty years, to before he’d even had his accident, when he and Jack had woken up with strong hangovers after crashing a party. His sudden nausea and the cloudiness in his head so strongly reminded him of that memory that he wondered briefly if he’d consumed too much wine at last night’s dinner party (an inane thought; his hybrid metabolism quite literally burned through alcohol).

The feeling only lasted for a few seconds before disappearing without a trace.

“Mayor Masters!” the secretary cried as she burst into the office. Vlad hurriedly nudged his overcoat off the back of his chair and kicked it into a heap over the stain of ectoplasm on the rug. “I heard a noise, are you alright?”

“Just fine, Marta,” he said through a thin smile. “I only dropped my phone.”

Her forehead crinkled. “I could’ve sworn I heard someone shouting in here.”

“Mm, no? It’s just me in here.”

“Huh.” Marta did not seem completely satisfied with this answer, but she turned to leave anyway. “Alright, well… just let me know before you head out to that lunch interview. I’ll need to give you those files.” She walked away shaking her head muttering to herself.

It wasn’t until the door clicked into place that Vlad relaxed, but only marginally. There was no telling what that feeling had truly been, and he did not like not knowing things.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. There was one thing he knew for certain. 

Whatever it had been, it had most definitely been ghost related, and he suspected he knew exactly what had caused it. Still, there was one person he probably needed to talk to in order to confirm his suspicions.

He pulled his personal cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his contacts. It didn’t take long to find the one he was looking for.

“... Ah, Jack! I’m so glad you picked up, I wanted to ask you something…”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The epicenter of the shudder and the center of the Infinite Realms, as it turns out, was located within a crumbling castle with nothing around it as far as the eye could see. 

Of course, the force of the shudder shook the castle. Not with any sort of violence, but just enough to knock a few pieces of stone rubble from the walls. One of those pieces of stone fell from the ceiling of the throne chamber. 

It fell and struck a coffin leaning against the throne.

A crack emerged.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re so full of it. The Cruiser Gravity Rifle is a million times better at beating Sollix than the Titanium Crossbow.” 

Sam scoffed at Tucker’s claim. “Please. How long have you been playing DOOMED again? The Cruiser Gravity Rifle is so not worth the recharge cycle it goes through. You can get way more consistent damage with the Titanium Crossbow.”

“What do you mean it’s not worth the recharge cycle?” Tucker protested. “At least you can get off more than one shot before you have to reload!”

“You also realize Sollix is, like, the lowest level troll boss in the whole game, right? You don’t even need a heavy-hitter to beat him. I bet there’s even a melee weapon that works well with him.”

“That’s what I did,” Danny chimed in. “The Blood-Forged Silver Shortsword worked pretty well for me.”

“That doesn’t count, ‘cause you phased back into the game to avoid having to deal with the crappy melee mechanics,” Tucker said. He flopped onto the grass unceremoniously. “Say what you want, but at least I’m not a cheater.”

“Hey!” Danny let go of Sam’s sneaker long enough to smack Tucker. “It’s not cheating if it’s a game mechanic.”

“Okay, but is it a game mechanic?” Sam grunted. She couldn’t stand doing crunches and pushups and such. Cardio was definitely more her speed.

Danny shrugged. “It’s not a bug and they haven’t patched it, so I’d call it a game mechanic.”

“Dude, you can’t exactly patch out ghosts overshadowing the game.”

A shrill whistle echoed across the field. “Alright! That’s time!” Coach Tetslaff hollered from her spot on the sideline. “Fill in your sheet and rotate partners.”

Sam rolled off of the mat and laid spread-eagle on the grass. Yeah, she’d be feeling that in the morning. Just like her to try and show off in gym class. “How many, D?”

“83. Showoff.” He set the worksheet down and climbed onto the mat. “C’mon, Tuck, you’re holding for me.”

Tucker groaned dramatically, but got up onto his knees anyway. “Just so you know,” he said, giving Danny a pointed look, “I’m only doing this ‘cause I’m hot and you’re a walking AC unit.”

“Also ‘cause your mom said she’d have your head if your gym grade doesn’t get any better. Not to mention Tetslaff will ream you if you don’t. She’s still mad at you for that stunt you tried to pull last week,” Sam added helpfully, cheeky grin and all.

Tucker’s glare turned to her. “How was I supposed to know she’d actually call the fake number and check?”

Danny folded his arms behind his head. “Probably ‘cause she was suspicious in the first place. I mean, the crutches were a little much for a sprained ankle.”

“Mom’s a nurse, she’s given crutches to plenty of -”

Another short whistle sounded. “Come on, hustle!” Tetslaff called. “You all ready? Then get goin’! Two minutes!”

With a grunt, Danny started doing his crunches. Sam watched with mild interest. Sure, last year’s Presidential Fitness Exam hadn’t gone the best for him, but he could pull through when need be. And there was no denying his ghost powers offered him a bit of an advantage, even if it didn’t totally show while in human form. He’d knocked the self-defense unit out of the park, after all.

“I was saying that Mom’s given crutches to people with sprained ankles before,” Tucker said. 

“Yeah? And how many is that?” Sam figured she didn’t need to know the exact number to know the answer.

His face flushed red. “I don’t - well, you know… she can’t tell me ‘cause of hippo,” he said, finishing with a smug smile. The uncertainty behind his eyes was way too obvious, though.

Sam gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you for real? Your mom is a nurse and you don’t even know it’s called HIPAA?”

“... Hippo, HIPAA, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Besides, I -” he cut off abruptly and looked down with a frown. “Uh, Danny? You okay dude?”

Sam glanced over to see Danny had stopped his crunches and was now sitting up with his hands held tightly over his sternum. All the color had drained from his face, and there was a noticeable drop in the temperature. 

Immediately, her internal alarms started blaring. She bolted upright. “Is it your ghost sense?” she asked, but she again suspected she knew the answer.

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I don’t… I…” His brows furrowed, and he stared fixedly at Tucker’s chest, though his gaze was unfocused and glassy. “I… think something - something’s…”

Tucker reached for Danny’s water bottle. “Do you need your - oh, what the f-”

Green liquid funneled out of the top of the water bottle and slowly drifted aimlessly around Danny in little tendrils. Sam watched with wide eyes. Sure, she’d seen a lot of weird stuff since Danny had become half-ghost (a lot of weird stuff), but ectoplasm… It had never done this around him before.

Danny didn’t even seem to notice. He just continued to stare at the same spot, even as his eyes began to burn Phantom green. 

Then, just as suddenly as it had escalated, the floating ectoplasm stopped and fell to the ground, splashing all over the mat and the grass.

Before Sam could react, Danny leaned over and promptly threw up.

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Benny weir wanting to ask reader out?

Hi hi!! I hope this is OK, I'm a little nervous about it and I ended on a cliffhanger because I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to take it in, I struggle a little bit with more general prompts, but I hope I did Benny justice enough!!!

------------------------

The bell had just rung for the 4th hour class of the day, the halls were quickly clearing out as Ethan emptied his previous class's books into his locker.

"Benny, just go for it." Ethan ducks his head, turning to Benny while he gesture's towards Y/N. He is tired of watching his best friend stare longingly at the back of their head.

"Absolutely not E! Maybe if I had some sort of love potion or maybe something to make them forget it ever happened. Just in case I get rejected," He turned his head back to Ethan, "I need a plan. In all due time buddy."

The bell rung once again before the halls cleared out entirely, a majority of the student body filing into the cafeteria.

Benny and Ethan sat at the lunch table, awaiting the rest of their usual group. "So, what's your plan Benny?"

Benny looked around quickly, a swift bloom of flowers erupting from his hand. He sat them down on the other side of the table, checking again to make sure that no one has seen him. "I will obviously woo them secretly until they fall in love with me, then I'll reveal myself, and they'll have no choice but to be my partner."

Ethan scoffed, and shaking his head he was about to speak up until Y/N sat their tray down across from them, plopping into the seat, Rory following along. Before they could speak, Rory chimed in, "wowza, where did these come from?" grabbing them, and shoving them into his nose.

"Those are for Y/N actually, the little card thing says so, not sure where they came from."

They chuckled, "are you joking?" They picked up the bouquet, checking the tiny card with the inscription of their name. "From secret admirer, ha. This has to be a joke." A soft blush lit up their cheeks as they rolled their eyes, assuming it was some sort of prank.

"I don't think it is," Ethan took a bite of his sloppy lunch potatoes, watching Benny push his around intensely.

"Anyway, did you guys see that new movie that everyone was hyping up?"

The rest of the night was uneventful, until a few days later, when Y/N opened their locked to a stuffed bear. They were used to smaller tiny surprises, but they seemed to really step up within the next few week. The next time it was chocolates, then answers to a math quiz, and then a letter. A long letter. They were eager to share it with their friends, especially Sarah, who might have an idea on who it is.

Y/N waited by their locker for Sarah, who came by a few minutes before the first bell. "Oh my gods, Sarah, read this. I've been getting these presents from a "secret admirer" for a few weeks now, but this is the best one yet."

"I noticed, those flowers you had the other day were gorgeous. I was kinda jealous," she chuckled and started reading, mumbling to herself as she scanned the page. "Wow."

"I can't tell if it's an elaborate prank or not, it's kind of sweet." Y/N shrugged, avoiding Sarah's eyes as she looked up.

"This seems really heartfelt. I bet it's from Benny. 'I want to play Knights Of Ninjitsu IV with you for hours, I want to kick your butt, then let you win.' Who else would write that?"

They chuckled, "god no way it's Benny!"

The bell rung. "Just think about it," Sarah assured as she turned to walk to class. Had these really been from Benny? It would make a little sense, but Benny seemed like he had a type, and that type was not Y/N.

Hours later, they had finally caught Ethan alone. "Is it him, Ethan?" They seemed a little panicked, and he couldn't help but feel bad.

"I can't say who it is. I am forbade." He turned quickly and walked away, almost tumbling over his own footing. The more and more they thought about it, the more sense it made that it would be Benny. But that would be too good to be true.

The small clique had a movie night scheduled for that Sunday evening, and slowly, but surely everyone had arrived. Everyone meaning Ethan, Benny, and Y/N. They had all agreed upon a new movie, normally watching reruns, but tonight's movie seemed a little awkward, Benny had just seen slightly off all night, and for the past few weeks. Ethan ran off to the kitchen, quickly making a few bags of popcorn, the majority of which would be eaten by Benny.

"Oh, I'll go help Ethan!" Benny sprung up, turning on his heel before Y/N grabbed his hand. "I need to ask you something." Benny's breath hitched momentarily, a small blush flooding his face, "of course, what's up?"

"Has it been you?"

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hello!

I have a new idea for a jeff the killer x reader.

What do you think of a jeff the killer x Nymph!Reader?

:)

AAAA IM GOING TO MARRY YOU I LOVE NYMPHS THEYRE MY FAVORITE PART OF GREEK MYTHOLOGY <333 NEURODIVERGENT HYPERFIXATION MOMENT

You have no idea how excited i am to write this!

Also, side note: im going to be using the more traditional representation of nymphs, so my descriptions will be more feminine. If you guys would like a more masc presenting nymph or gender neutral nymph, just lmk!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeff the killer x nymph!reader

Wowza with your beauty, grace and downright ethereal energy, it's no suprise Jeff fell for you!

Your flowy long hair and beautiful dresses hypnotize him

Depending on what kind of nymph you are, that effects what you two spend your time together doing

If you are any sort of water nymph, you will spend most of your time swimming!

You will occasionally flick or splash each other with water, spook each other by dragging each other down underwater, etc

If you are any sort of plant nymph, there will be a wider array of options

You will lay in fields of flowers together (at least, you will. Jeff hates pollen), you will have picnics on grassy hillsides, you will take walks in the forest, etc

If you are any sort of landscape nymph (such as mountains, hills, etc) you will mostly just ramble about your favorite landscapes while jeff listens lovingly

He loves to watch you dance

He knows that dancing is a sacred thing to most nymphs, so that makes the experience even better for him

The fact that you trust him enough to preform such a sacred activity in front of him makes his heart flutter

He looooves to play in your hair

You will both be sitting outside, your eyes closed and the sun shining on your (pink, blue, green, white or brown) skin while jeff brushes your hair with the utmost care

Once he is satisfied with brushing it, he will begin to twirl it between his fingers and burry his face in it from time to time

Then, he will add flowers to your hair, commenting on how pretty you are the whole time

When hes done, he kisses your pointy ears, then moves to lay in your lap, allowing you to now play with his hair

Most of your time together is spent outdoors since the very culmination of your being is linked to the outdoors

Its not like you cant be inside, you just get really ansty and anxious

So slender had a special sleeping quarters made just for you

A moderately sized building tucked away in a private area of the manor's ginormous back yard (back yard doesnt do its size justice)

The building is built using ancient greek architecture designs, and is overgrown with vines and flowers

Inside, there is your bed, a small clothing rack, and a kitchen area and a room with a toilet and sink

And of course, whatever other decorations you add

You shower is around the back of the house, and allows you to shower outside with the butterflies

There is a curtain installed for privacy, but if you desire you can just leave it open

Showering with the flowers and butterflies truly is a magical experience

So yeah, Jeff and you hang out most of the time in your mini house

You'll have to stop him from swatting at your insect friends

And scaring your animal companions

And angering the forest spirits

Other than that, he's chill

[bfdifan26]

a few things from tpot 4 that will not leave my mind for the whole month or two:

-two looking an entire jungle on fire and their reaction being Wowza !!

-clock keeping his promise on doing better for yellowface, not talking to winner at all and that little conversation he had with yellow at the end

-the bracelet wrapped around blackhole making him resemble saturn (it’s one of those simple things that amused me way more than it should’ve)

-eraser being a dedicated tengolf shipper

-pin and coiny not arguing for the entire episode

-puffball trying to prove herself once again but just digging herself a deeper hole

-bells little song she sang for the flower

-the expansion on goiky

-death pact deciding to save ice cube instead of winning the challenge

-these

[ohbo-ohno]

Okay, so I’m not sure what AU exactly this would before because the Serial Killer Reader is definitely feels more Puppy in my eyes and not sure if the boys in the dlmliyh Au would vibe with this, but I have been thinking about them training the reader to be a kitten. Specifically where the reader is fighting against it and the boys have to get creative to get them to calm down and slip into the head space.

Now I’m sure your thoughts on drug use so ignore if your not comfortable 💕 , but them using weed to get them to slip. Them figuring it out on accident, soap smoking and making them take a pull and discovering how sensitive, cuddly and subby they get when they are high. Then maybe one day the reader is like hell no i’m not wearing a tail plug and ears. Them looking at eachother and one leaving the room to make a “special” cup of tea for the reader not telling them that it has flower in it. Chuckling to themselves as they notice it starting to have an effect, the readers brain getting fuzzy, relaxed and maybe going a bit nonverbal. All this making the little cozy cat bed the boys made for them look really welcoming. But then they feel a nice warm hand running through their hair and they are so sensitive it just feels so good. Whimpering and leaning into their touch becoming a little puddle nuzzling closer to their warmth. Relaxing deeper as their hands stroke your body, them mumbling praises “oh such a good kitten” “purr for us love”. Relaxed sighs turning into soft moans as they feel rough fingers rubbing their clit. A hand gently tilting their chin up making them look into Soaps eyes as he places the cute little ears on the readers head. So distracted by the look in his eyes and the feeling of him playing with their hair that they don’t really notice ghost shifting behind them, until he pops their tail in.

Might have gotten a bit carried away here but…

Also after this event they start referring to weed as catnip 😅

-🎃

p.s. thank you for that story rec 👀

i've recommended like three stories but i hope you mean the puppyplay sugar daddy one because it's so fucked up and i need more people to know it exists lol

i am. obsessed with this ask. im also totally gonna reveal how inexperienced with weed i am so we're just gonna pretend weed functions in the exact ways we need it to for kinky story's sake :)

johnny giving you a puff of his blunt and you take it because you're so eager to calm down, only for just that little bit to hit you like a train and make you the neediest calm little thing ever

also. oh my god. weed being used as "cat-nip" to force you into kittyplay. wowza!

yknow im usually not as into kittyplay as i am puppyplay (i like it a little meaner lol) but this ask is like a really fun brand of kittyplay. literally them drugging you (just a little!) so you behave for them? they're really just helping you, when you get all worked up you always end up needing a punishment :/ this is better, this just helps you behave

also ughhh you just being so soft and malleable, leaning into them for affection, looking up at them with big round eyes and begging for more. slow and easy sex, a nice little treat for you since you're behaving so well. taking your tail so well for them :( simon stroking from the crown of your head allll the way down to your tail, smiling at your little purrs

johnny would love it too obviously but he doesn't really get to play with you as much when you're high :/ he wants to play puppy-kitty when you're actually... y'know... willing to do more than be pampered. he wants to play wrestle, to yank your tail when you bite his hand, to make you lick his dick clean of your slick with little kitten licks

simon just reassures him that someday you won't need their help to be a kitten, they're just showing you how for now <3

[blairwitherflower]

Wowza two post in the same day?1!1! Anyways headcanon for the TAEOK AU tehe

Pomni has a magic staff that sometimes doesn't work or maybe in some situations it gets powerful for abit

Ragatha and gangle are closely related so she and gangle were quite close

Kaufmo is the best fighter in the group and is dead (I'm sorry kaufy, his death was taken after pomni joined which pomni seen it all)

Gangle is great at sewing stuff and quite a quick thinker to help the others in needs but maybe sometimes she gets annoyed abit when someone interrupted her peaceful sewing in a rude manner especially if it's one of her siblings (jangle and tangle)

Jax love pissing off everyone, no one even knows what he's planning could be but he isn't quite a friendly one to encounter if your a stranger to him but he strangely has a thing for someone name a K

Caine gives slight respect to one of his two crews as if they done their job great and wouldn't be so happy to know the adventurer has stop his plans

Bubble obviously still has a foul mouth but pretty much eat everything even humans

Kinger misses Queenie dearly and was not realising she was already gone and the flower Queenie once gave him kinda remains in his bedroom to feel like she's still here

Zooble has a thing to tease gangle in the worst situation the both of them will be sometimes 1/ if that plan Caine has order didn't go as planned, Caine has a curse on zooble (the crystal on the chest) makes them lose control of themselves and they act like a dangerously furious beast and slightly has some consciences (this sounds so cringe omg but mind controlled), zooble has a deceased mum.

[rattlyglitch]

A Hatch in the Ceiling

“Boy, if that ain't a thing and a half.” Tasnim was shocked by what Malleus had told him. He crossed his arms trying to understand everything Rollo had done. “I mean, I knew there were firelotuses swarmin' all over Fleur City. Us gargoyles were sleepin' near the bell when suddenly a buncha red flowers popped up and attacked. I was the only one to get away, so I came here to hide. But, man… You're tellin' me ROLLO'S behind it all?”

Malleus gave a solemn nod. “The fact that he dares to endanger priceless gargoyles capable of reasoning with us? Yet another strike against Rollo Flamme…” Tasnim sighed a disappointed look on his face. “It makes sense why the poor kid didn’t want to go with Rollo at first. I just wished he would have told me why. Man, oh man, Rollo. Why'd ya have to go and pull such a boneheaded stunt…?” Malleus kneeled to loom at Tasnim concern on his face. “You said Silver told you about me. Is the child of man ok? Rollo hasn't harmed him has he? And You're familiar with Flamme?"

The gargoyle gave a nod.“ The kid is definitely safe, he wasn't hurt or injured last I saw him. All I know is that Rollo told me he touched some of the flowers but he woke up a bit after Rollo left him with me. Rollo didn’t forcibly take him either. Kid didn’t want to go but when I told him he would be safer with Rollo he agreed.” Malleus let out a sigh of relief thankful that Silver wasn’t harmed.

“Are you familiar with Rollo?” Malleus asked. The way Tasnim talked about Rollo he was positive that the gargoyle knew him. 'Sure am familiar with Rollo. I've seen a lotta student council presidents in my day, and he's as diligent as they come.” Tasnim gave a smile as if thinking back on old memories.

“Rain, wind, snow, you name it… No matter the weather, he climbs this tall tower and polishes the Bell of Solace to a shine. And that ain't all. When we got wet and started growin' moss, he scrubbed it off for us.” Malleus felt envy for Rollo. It was a dream Malleus himself wished he could have. Tasnim looked at Malleus. “The Rollo I know cared a lot for this tower and the Bell of Solace both. And I don't think he was fakin' it. Which is why I just don't get it.”

Malleus couldn’t exactly understand how Tasnim felt but he did feel sorry for the gargoyle. “Regardless of his reasons, his actions are inexcusable. We are here to ring the Bell of Solace, eradicate the firelotuses, and put a stop to Flamme's plans.” Malleus was determined to reach the top of the bell tower whatever he may have to face. That’s why Tasnim’s escape suddenly became of interest to him. “Tasnim you mentioned you fled here from the top floor? Then I trust there's some kind of passage around that goes there. I would greatly appreciate it if you could tell us how to reach the Bell of Solace from here.”

Tasnim seemed a bit hesitant at first but spoke. “…Yeah, okay. I'll let you guys in on a big secret.” Malleus urged Tasnim on. He prepared himself before speaking with a smile on his face. “Word is that long ago, the Righteous Judge and the Bell Ringer studied together in this very tower. There's a secret passage that was only known to those guys and the gargoyles, and we've passed down its location over the years. Here, I'll show you where it is!”

Before Tasnim could reach the area where the secret passage was held Azul placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you wish to part with such a storied and valuable secret unconditionally?” Tasnim gave a nod with a determined look on his face. When Tasnim opened the door to the secret passageway, he and the trio were greeted with firelotuses all over the area. “WOWZA! That's a lotta firelotuses!” Tasnim backed away from the passage a bit as they crept forward. Idia was the most surprised as he looked around

“They got through the barricade!” Tasnim was a bit panicked. “If they suck up my magic, I'll just be a regular ol' stationary gargoyle! Help me out here, would ya?!” Malleus prepared his magic quickly ready to get rid of the flowers. “But of course, gargoyle. Leave everything to me. There will be naught but specks of dust when I'm done with these flowers.” Azul and Idia were both panicked by what Malleus said and were quick to try and help him get rid of the flowers.

////////////

The gargoyle looked around the room not clear of firelotuses and sighed. “You guys are somethin' else. You sent those flowers packin' like nobody's business!” Malleus smiled clearly pleased by what the gargoyle said. “Heh. Such a small gesture is hardly worthy of gratitude.” Idia looked at Malleus with a displeased look. “At this point, we're less afraid of the flowers and more afraid of Malleus blowing up the tower…” Tasnim looked at the ceiling and was quickly able to reveal a hatch in it that none of the others had noticed. “I'll open the hatch, and you guys can use the crates to reach it. The top floor's right above here. Now, get hoppin' and… YIPES!”

Firelotuses were immediately at the hatch when Tasnim opened it to reveal a way up. They were quick to latch onto Tasnim and begin draining his magic. Malleus, Azul, and Idia grabbed Tasnim and tried to get the monstrous flowers off of him. “They've even gotten into his mouth! Argh, they're clinging so hard I can't get them off!” Azul spoke panicked as he tried his best to remove the flowers.

Malleus kept tugging at the lotuses but they only seemed to bury themselves deeper into Tasnim by embedding their roots in the cracks of him. The gargoyle himself was even terrified of his situation. He seemed to have a moment of realization though.“Guys… Forget…about me… Just go…an' ring…the bell…” Malleus declined the offer the gargoyle had given quickly. “Don't give up, gargoyle. Keep your wits about you! We're getting the firelotuses off now. Just have patience.” Tasnim shook his head.

“Nah, s'cool… Just…stop Rollo… I'm just a hunk of a rock… But you guys…are made of way stronger stuff… Get the kid… an take care…of Rollo…'kay…?”Within seconds Tasnim was stone after he spoke his final words. “Gargoyle? Gargoyle, can you hear me? …GARGOYLE!”

Tasnim gave no response and Malleus looked at him upset. He felt defeated that he hadn’t been able to help the gargoyle. “The gargoyle was worried about Flamme to the very last. Even though Flamme's responsible for what's happened to him…”Malleus went silent as he placed Tasnim down and stood back up. “Uh, Malleus? You gonna be okay? I know it sucks to just leave him here, but…”

Idia hoped that Malleus got the hint. Malleus looked up at the hatch in the ceiling. “I know. All we can do now is move on and ring the Bell of Solace. That's what you're trying to say, yes?” Idia gave a quick “Yup.” Malleus brushed off his pants and gave one final look to Tasnim. “Wait for us, gargoyle. We shan't be long. We'll ring the bell and restore you and the rest of your brethren to normal. And to that end… I shall strike Rollo Flamme down myself!

///////////

Rollo looked down at the ground. He had heard the hatch being opened. Even though he was unsure of how Idia, malleus, and Azul had found the hatch he wasn't to worried. Rollo knew there would be flowers in their wake to block them more from getting to him. Whatever stunts they they try to pull he would be prepared to face.

(This scene in the book definitely broke my heart the most. In the end, the gargoyle cared that Rollo got help no matter the cost.)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14

[ekster--exotic]

Wowza! It’s the final and Seventh Day of Caprine Week!

No, I didn’t draw a sheep, this is an Angora goat! :)

Quick Facts! -Angora-

These goats are utilized most in the fiber and meat industry, and make a lustrous yarn called mohair. (Cashmere is made by a different breed of goat! :D) They can have grey, white, and black coats. In Turkey, their place of origin, it’s common for Angoras to have darker wool.

Here’s the full art page of Caprine Week! This whole challenge has been really fun, and I’d like to thank everyone who stuck around to see it. They will be tagged at the end of this post <3

(Apologies for any major style changes between the goats ^^;)

@magsillian @l3m0n-c0r3 @hunterthetriceratopss @unenthusiasticcoffeeholicghost @c-large-pancake-with-holes @w1llow-w1sp @jamb3rry @s7nnydrop-flower @mypersonalfirepit @scoretheearth

[lumiereandcogsworth]

okay I'm a little late but uhhhhhh top 5 favorite batb scenes !! or songs !! or both !!! whatever floats your boat 😇

YIPPEE!!!! :)) i had so much fun going to find these screencaps. also it was terribly difficult to narrow down. please note that the True Answer to “what’s my favorite scene” is the entirety of the film 🫡 but here are some special ones, not really in a particular order because that would be impossible.

the adam & lumière hug

i’ve gone insane about this so many times but my goodness it makes me crazy. the implication of it all. the HISTORY that it provides for their relationship!!!! it’s evidence of an absolute lore FEAST that i have been enjoying these past seven years. i love them so so so much.

The Dance™️

obviously i believe this to be the dance of all time. it is so gorgeous and beautiful and IT IS THE WAY THEY EXPRESS THEIR LOOOOOVE!!!!!!!!!! i’ll never be over it. their outfits. the song. the atmosphere. the way they look at each other like the entire world around them has ceased to exist. AAAAHHHHHH.

the celebration ball!!!!

what a beautiful beautiful beautiful ending this is. it’s just so joyous. they’re so happy. they’re SO HAPPY. the way they smile, ESPECIALLY ADAM…. oh i just can’t be normal about it folks!

the colonnade conversation

AGH. this conversation is so important to me. so absolutely vital and one of THE biggest reasons that this version will always be superior to the animated one, TO ME ‼️‼️‼️ i just love that they get a chance to just sit and talk. they tease each other and joke and talk seriously as well. they share personal feelings and grow closer and it’s such clear evidence of how they’ve BEEN interacting over the course of belle’s time here. it’s so clear that they’ve become confidants and friends and that love is very much flowering between them. it’s such a simple conversation but it’s executed so perfectly and it means everything to me😭

their first meeting

sorry to keep throwing stones but you got me talking about my wife i’m gonna put her on a pedestal. this scene is ALSO way better than the animated version and i love it so so so much. i love how much more stubborn and self-centered adam is. i love that when she asks him to come into the light, he DOESN’T. he’s TOO ashamed of himself to even reveal his face to her at first. and this shot right here is just 🤌🤌 CHEF’S KISS!!!

SPEAKING OF KISSING HERE’S A 6TH SCENE

ONLY KISS OF ALL TIME ONLY KISS EVER!!!!!!!!! such a beautiful movie kiss. such a kiss. WOWZA!!!! i can’t even elaborate i just keep looking at it. but yeah dude yeaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the whole interaction leading up to it is just genuinely incredible. i go NUTS thinking about how adam waits for belle to make the first move every step of the way. he’s still so afraid of hurting her or scaring her that he just lets her explore him first. she feels his face (AND HE HAS THAT LITTLE SMILE‼️) first and then he holds hers. and they just look at each other until she looks at his lips and then back up at him and leans in and he leans in and OUUKGHSKFHSJ💥✨💥⚡️‼️✨💥🔥🌟✨‼️☀️💥✨‼️

also sorry i have 4 more honorable mentions because uhhh this film is the love of my life?

paris

just everything about them going to paris is. so important. the fact that adam even suggested they run away is enough to make me crazy. but once there HERE?? ugh. adam immediately being so nerdy about it, but then looking at belle so seriously as she reveals that this is where she was born and this is the home she should’ve grown up in and the gravity of them being here just settles in. and adam is just. gosh. he’s SO caring toward her. he’s so incredibly GENTLE during this whole thing. BECAUSE HE LOVES HER SO MUCHHHH. and then the flashback. ooooooohhhhh buddy. you KNOW how i feel about maurice & maria. AUGUGHGHFJDHJD!!!!! paris scene truly is the scene of all time. it’s another lore feast that i have (clearly) been absolutely demolishing for years now.

belle & maurice hug 🤧

oooohhhhhhhhh these two mean the WORLD to MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all of their scenes are so deeply precious to me but this one with the “it’s alright! now go, live your life, and forget me” “forget you?? everything i am is because of you!” “i love you belle, don’t be afraid” “i love you too, papa. i’m not afraid.” UHHHHHHHH OKAY GUESS I’LL JUST EXPLODE???????? gosh. they’re everything to me. NEVER FORGET that in a movie where saying “i love you” is THE turning point of the plot… the first time it was uttered was from a father to his daughter 🥹 THAT’S WHERE SHE LEARNED THE UNCONDITIONAL LOVE GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

shenanigans in the woods

this probably appears fairly out of place from the rest of the scenes i love, but there’s just something about gaston’s dialogue in this scene where he’s, ya know, threatening maurice’s life and such, that really scratches my brain. i also love his dialogue right before the mob song, so consider that an honorable mention too, but idk!! this scene is so funny and entertaining to me. which is funny in and of itself because it used to be like my least favorite scene. but lmao???? lefou asking gaston to calm down by thinking about death?? booping his nose??? gaston saying to maurice “please forgive me, old bean” ??? FJSKDK i love this scene so much, it very often makes me laugh.

and lastly :) hand hold :) hold hand :)

THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS🫵🫵🫵🫵

anyway hi you also asked me about my top 5 favorite songs, here’s that too:

be our guest — SO STIMMYYYY i love to sing and dance to it so much. i get so hyped. and it’s so visually GORGEOUS.

evermore — uhhh only love song ever. SADDEST love song ever. a lamentation that has, more than once, caused me to pause mid-song so i can write a quick happily ever after ficlet because i cannot STAND watching adam think he’s never going to see belle again. makes me utterly insane always and forever.

days in the sun — so sweet so good so underrated so lovelyyyyy and it Literally starts with a song adam’s mother sang to him and now he’s singing it to her. i’m gonna be SICK.

gaston — SO SO SO FUN. SO FUN. THE CHOREOGRAPHY WENT SO HARD.

beauty and the beast — i mean yeah. Yeah. I MEAN YEAH COME ON NOW THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT BABEYYY💙💛💙💛💙💛

[ohno-the-sun]

I knew it! While I love Moon they are a parasite. Without Sun they're just gonna feed on other things. Rest in peace poor little animal (and Sun) Also wowza! Cool as hell! Loved the flowers in the eye and how there is still stuff in the ribcage. An awesome combination of eerie but also pretty! I just adore your art and I'm so glad I found your page!!

daawaa I'm glad you like the art 🥰🥰

And you got it right on the nose Moon is gonna keep growing even after Sun is dead

It might be worse than a single dead animal though...

[starclanstims]

Hey can I ask for a Mapleshade stimboard with themes of regret, heartbreak, red flowers (preferably dahlias but whatever you can find is totally alright) and maybe some hints to Frecklewish? Thanks!

mapleshade stimboard with regret, heartbreak, and red flower themes, with hints to frecklewish requested by: anon

absolutely! wowza, that was a lotta themes to fit into one ^^" hope it turned out alright! i'm never quite sure how to visualize themes like regret, so i hope the grayscale tv static works nicely :]

credit: x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x