#you see i go back to previous prompts to elaborate on when i need inspiration.

[dragons-ire]

#15 Portentous

The rains rolled in the desert without much warning. Ominous black clouds rolling in out of a clear sky, a long shadow cast over the earth. The smell of petrichor in the air, and then the deluge.

Huhubici Jujubici sat at the front of his trade caravan, squinting over the chocobos heads as they pulled in to Camp Drybone. The rain washed the roads, threatened to hold up travel.

Wouldn’t do to get stranded out in the mud. Better to weather over here until it passed.

With luck, the local Brass Blades could be convinced not to inspect the cargo too closely.

His bodyguard stood with his arms folded while Huhubici jumped down to the ground. A wasn’t half a dozen 

“HEY! Watch it.” He yelled out, turning to see who it was

“Sorry!” A pair of young voices called back, waving as they ran past. A pair of elezen young enough to not have their height yet, a pale-haired one just a little taller than (his? her?) blue-haired and skinned comrade. They paused under an awning, still soaking wet from the rain to whisper to each other.

“...looks like the rain washed all the garbage clear out of the Shroud.” Grumbling, Huhubici turned up his collar and continued his hurried way towards the dingy inn for a little respite. The small party burst in the door, wringing water out of their clothes.

Just himself, his personal security detail. The drivers, the chocobos, the rest of the guards should be fine in the elements and in the wagons for now.

The only other inhabitants in the main room when his small party shuffled in were crowded around a corner table. They didn’t look up - a large Roegadyn man conferring with a shorter miqo’te woman. Another elezen - quite a few of them here today for such a small town - off to the side, watching the door without seeming to watch anyone coming through.

Huhubici deliberated for all of half a second before stomping over. 

“Are those your kids out there?” He demanded. The elezens gaze (how eyes that orange color could look so cool) shifted down to regard him.

“...were they causing you trouble?” They asked in return. “I’m deeply sorry if they were.”

“They need to watch where they’re going, or they’re going to seriously hurt someone.” Huhubici went on, folding his arms.

“I see. Again, I’m very sorry. I’ll be sure to have a word with them about being more careful.” The older elezen finished, then turned back to their drink and the conversation.

 If Huhubici hasn’t beent so miserably damp and tired, he might have been ready to demand more for the indignation. As it was, he just waited, seeing if there was more to that apology.

When nothing came, he made a small sound in the back of his throat, turning to the bodyguards. 

“Come on, let’s go.” And turned towards the long bar counter to head that way.

2019 Prompt: Wilt

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter four

well it’s love, make it hurt series

four: some place we can be ourselves

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: The Mandalorian buys you a present.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Din and sub!reader, soft Dom!Din, pain play, nipple play, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), collaring (collar in the moodboard is not completely what I wanted. tell me not to have it commissioned just for the purpose of a photo lol), some feelings

Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 6: Collar, inspired by @absurdthirst's wonderful prompt list, without which I probably would not have written anything.

also on ao3

3 ABY - Fall

Neither of you were squeamish; you couldn’t be. Injuries were inevitable in your line of work. You had seen Mando burn his skin back together. He had seen you stitch up a gash on your leg.

So why was the slowly fading ring of bruises around your neck so hard for him to look at? Was he still mad about the botched job and your behavior that night? Or did it simply disgust him to see marks on you made by any other hand?

Whatever it was, he needed to get over it. The worst damage had been healed by the bacta spray on the first night, and you refused to waste more over bruising.

You were starting to get mad, now that you thought about it. You had just been examining the wounds in the mirror of the fresher. You had just gotten out, dried off, and dressed when you caught sight of your reflection.

You were up on your toes, neck craned to see around the sides. It was healing up nicely. You ran your fingers over the delicate skin, and it was far less tender. It was almost pleasant, the dull ache when you pressed on them.

Mando chose that moment to walk past. He stopped, staring at you for a half second, and hit the button to close the fresher door on you.

“Hey!” you smacked the door with your hand. “What was that for?”

But when it slid back open, the hull was empty.

You were heading out in the morning for a hunt, one that promised a challenge. As glad as you were for an interesting job, it also meant you and Mando were essentially hands-off until there was a new carbonite slab on the ship.

So really, he was going to have to get over it or live without getting his dick wet for another week. Given the voracity of his libido so far, the latter seemed unlikely.

While Mando putters around in the hull eating his dinner, you curl up in your seat in the cockpit with a book on the datapad. Your routine had settled quietly into this rhythm—he could eat without rushing, you could read without him groping at you, and you both got time alone. For two people who had been mostly solitary before, it was invaluable.

“I’m running into town,” he calls up the ladder.

“What? What for?” you yell back, but it's drowned by the pneumatics of the ramp. “What the fuck?” you say to the empty ship.

By the time he returned, the suns had set, and the moss-dripping trees outside were thick and dark. You had dozed off in your seat, feet tucked under you and head resting on your folded arms. The datapad had slipped down between your knee and the seat.

He shook your shoulder, and you stirred. Not for the first time, you marveled at how deep you could sleep here. How you had stopped flinching for your blaster. You blink up at him, a smile breaking out, until you remember why you had fallen asleep there.

“Hey, what the kriff was that? You just took off, like—” You helpfully demonstrate with a little wave of your hand and a whoosh.

He stares down at you, head cocked, hand still on your shoulder. “What’s with the outfit?” He waves a hand at you in what you're sure is a rude mockery of your previous gesture.

Oh, right. The outfit. It didn’t seem so clever now. You had wrapped yourself in an elaborate headscarf that hung over you like a hood with a tasseled cowl. And, well, nothing else. Your blanket had slipped when you sat up.

You were supposed to be waiting for him bare. Accessible. Ready. And to the little bratty voice in the back of your head that was so mad at him earlier, this was compliant. He didn’t say you couldn’t accessorize. It wasn’t denying him access to your body.

Right now, though, as he put a hand on one hip and glared down at you, it felt like maybe you were in trouble.

“I, um.” Stars, why did you think this was a good idea? You thought you could confront him about the bruises and maybe get a little roughed up in the process. And you would have enjoyed it earlier, but now, suddenly, it feels like you might cry if he yells at you.

He hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You know when you’re being given a second chance, so you swallow hard and look back up at him.

“I’m sorry. I was kind of trying to push you, it seemed like a good idea, but I don’t want to anymore, I promise.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why did I want to, or why do I not want to?”

He sighs heavily. “Why did you want to?”

You look down at where the datapad is lodged, picking at the edge of the cushion with your nail. “I was trying to make you mad,” you mumble.

He tilts your chin up with a bare hand. You hadn’t even noticed him take the gloves off, but it feels so nice that you almost forget you're trying to talk your way out of trouble.

“Sweetheart. Why would you want me to be mad at you? If you want me to hurt you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

At the low rumble of his wicked words, you no longer feel the cold of the cockpit. Your mouth waters, and you’re hyper-aware of how hard your nipples are, how exposed.

“I—kind of? No, I mean—” You can’t concentrate anymore. His finger that was stroking your cheek brushes across your bottom lip, and you open automatically, waiting. Begging. He pulls it away, and you whine.

“Hmm. Not yet. I want you to finish explaining yourself.”

“I had hurt feelings.” It punches out of you, and you’re mortified to realize it's the truth. You had been telling yourself you were mad, and maybe you were, but you had been lashing out like a hurt massiff.

Mando squats down beside the chair, and you turn, crossing your legs so you can face him. “What did I do that hurt your feelings, pretty girl?”

“It’s stupid, I’m being stupid. I’m—”

His hand snaps out, and unlike the gentle touch earlier, he grips your jaw tight before slapping you sharply across the face with his other hand. You yelp, more from surprise than pain.

“What have I said about that? Are you allowed to talk about yourself that way?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“And why not?”

“Because I’m yours, and if I’m disrespecting myself, it means I’m disrespecting you.” It was a lesson you had learned over his knee on more than one occasion.

“Good girl. Now tell me why you’re upset.”

“It’s like you can’t even look at me anymore, when you can see my neck. I’m sorry I fucked up; I’m sorry it’s ugly. I thought if I covered it up, maybe, maybe…”

Your words die in your throat as he stands up off the floor, rubbing a tired hand over his helmet. He snaps his fingers, jerking a thumb toward the pilot seat. “Get up, c’mon, I’m not doing this here.”

You scramble to your feet, confused and a little scared. Doing what? Oh, kriff, what had you gotten yourself into?

“Grab your pillow, baby,” he called from across the room without looking.

You double back for it. He was settled in his chair when you reached him, so you let it fall with a soft thwomp before lowering yourself to your knees.

“Look at me,” he orders. “And take that off.”

Fuck. Someday you’d get it through your head and stop giving in to the urge to hide. He hated it, but it was one of the few holdups you still had.

When you obey, tossing the scarf out of sight, he reaches down and wraps his hand around the side of your neck, avoiding most of the bruising. “I didn’t look because I didn’t want you to be disgusted by me.”

You furrow your brow, opening your mouth to speak, but thinking better of it.

“You were so upset about what happened on that hunt. And I hate that it was someone else who put those there. But stars, baby, do you look beautiful all marked up. I want to sink my hands in until you’re wearing my fingerprints all the time.”

Your mouth falls open, throat dry, and you shift around on your knees. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What, no. Just. Fuck, that’s so hot.”

He leans back, studying you. “You know, I never want you to try something you’re not comfortable with just because it’ll please me.”

“I’m not, I swear. I couldn’t stop looking at them in the mirror and wishing it had been you.”

He swears darkly, leaning forward so suddenly you flinch back a little. His hand cups your cunt between your spread legs, and he swipes a finger through your folds and holds it up. It’s soaked. He chuckles. “Good girl,” and shoves the finger between your lips with no pretense.

You close your lips around the digit, sucking and watching him through wide eyes. You whine when he pulls it out.

“As much as I would like to mark you up, cyar’ika, it’s not safe. But I did have an idea for something almost as good.” He reaches into a pouch on his belt and holds up a strip of leather.

It doesn’t register right away. You stare at it and then at him. He holds it out to you flat on both hands, and you gasp. You've never seen one outside of the holos he's shown you, but you recognize it all the same.

The leather is soft and supple in the same brown as his bandolier. It has a simple double-loop closure. You run your fingers over it for a moment before he snatches it back to dangle it just out of your reach.

“I take it you like it.”

You hold your hands in your lap, biting your bottom lip and whining. He laughs and runs a hand through your hair.

“You want it, sweetheart? Want to wear my collar so everyone knows you’re mine?”

“Please,” you beg over and over.

“You are mine, right? My sweet, obedient girl.”

“Yes, sir, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

He laughs. “Of course you will, needy thing. You’re already all mine. Look at you, trying so hard to please me.”

Your face goes hot. After the last few months of him talking to you like this, you thought you’d stop being embarrassed, but it only seems to get worse.

“C’mere,” he says, voice softer as he leans back. “Want you up here so I can see.”

You scramble onto his lap, straddling him. He pulls you closer so your wet cunt smears where he strains against the flight suit, and you moan.

“Can I put it on you?”

You’re already whispering a litany of pleas before he finishes the sentence.

You stop breathing when he reaches around you, holding as still as you can. You want to feel every second of it. He gently lifts your hair out of the way to settle the strap behind your neck before pulling the ends to meet in the front. He slides it into place, tucking two fingers between the collar and your neck.

“How’s it feel, ner cyare?”

You don’t ask about the new Mando’a. He’s never told you what cyar’ika means, either. Not that you’ve asked. He says it with enough fondness that you trust it’s not mean, and this sounds the same. Not that you aren’t curious. But the only things you know about Mandalorians are things he’s told you of his own volition, and you’re afraid to push.

Your eyes are watering. You trace your fingers over the collar with shaky hands. You’re terrified, actually, because this feels like something heavier than the other ways you play. “I love it,” you whisper.

He tugs on it, yanking you closer to him, before pulling it back, grinning at the way you let your body be moved at his will. “I think I like this a lot.” He holds you in place with it, pinching and tugging on your nipples. He gives your tits a few sharp smacks to feel the way you jerk in his lap.

“Ready for me, baby?” he teases.

You know it’s rhetorical, especially given that he’s already pulled his cock out, but you moan a “yes, please, sir,” just to see the way it makes him twitch. He smacks your clit twice with the head of his cock and then just shoves it all the way in.

He tugs the collar, pulling you to bend forward at an awkward angle.

“Watch, pretty girl. Look how greedy your little pussy is. Look how well you take me.”

You can’t look away. He’s splitting you in half, the pressure sharp and incredible, but you’d never know it from the way your walls and lips are hugging his shaft, beckoning him in. He flicks your clit while you’re watching, but you still jerk back at the sting. You’re stopped short by the collar, and he laughs and does it again.

He pinches and twists at it while you make broken little sounds, moans and cries, and you squirm to get out of range of his cruel fingers. But you can’t. He’s got you pinned so well between the cage of his thighs, bent up behind you, and the grip on your collar.

He only takes pity on you when he moves his attention back to your swollen nipples.

“S’it hurt?” he pants.

You whimper.

“Really? 'Cause you’re fucking soaked, cyar’ika, and your cunt keeps squeezing me so tight. I think you like it.” He flicks your nipple to punctuate his words.

“I do, I do like it, please. Like anything you do to me.”

“Those are dangerous words, sweetheart.”

“Nuh-uh,” you grunt, face twisting as he tugs hard before switching back to your clit. “Nnn. Trust you.”

He pinches a little harder than he means to, struck by the sweet way you bare yourself to him. His fingers dip down to gather some of the slick you’re leaking around his cock, and he brings them back up to your clit, rubbing firm, tight circles.

He drops your collar and grabs your jaw, pistoning his hips up harder so the wet slap of your bodies echoes in the cockpit. “Whose cunt is this?”

“Yours, sir,” you gasp.

“Yeah? Whose beautiful, perfect slut is this?”

“Yours, sir.”

“Cum for me, cyar’ika.” He presses down hard on your clit, and his hips stutter when you immediately clench down, body jerking. He grabs you by the collar and holds you upright so you don’t fall as you twitch and scream.

He doesn’t ease up, rubbing hard at your clit. “Another one. Now.”

You don’t know how he does it. You never have to force it. He knows your body like his armory, knows how much pressure it takes to pull the trigger, knows right when to fire. You’ve never not cum when he commanded.

“Down,” he snaps after you’ve come apart on him a few more times over.

You slide off immediately, sinking down onto the pillow, mouth open and tongue out. Your hands lay in your lap, palms up, and you even remember to keep your eyes open.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he groans, stroking himself furiously before shoving into your throat as he spills. You take it all, eyes on him as you watch him fall apart for once. His shaky hand strokes through your hair as he comes down before settling around your neck just below the collar.

He pulls you back up into his lap, askew so your legs dangle over one side of the chair, and he can tuck your head against his chest. You’re shaking and softly crying as he wraps you up in your forgotten blanket.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “And cyar'ika?”

You look up at him, sniffling and trying to blink back the last of your tears.

“You did so good telling me when you were upset.”

You bury your face in his unforgiving chest plate, and he allows you the moment to hide. Someday, he thinks, maybe you’ll believe him.

*Title from "Beat Up Car" by Taking Back Sunday. (what is the Razor Crest if not a beat up car persevering?)

[kanene-yaaay]

You’re going to tickle me first, right?

Kanene’s note: One day I will carefully plan beforehand a title. But that day is noooot today! sdfghjfrgtyujikdfgh.

I consider this the last story from that idea of lers + lees in more different scenarios. I already did all the sides and I am very proud of the results! Thankys for all the support <3333

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* This is Ticklish!Logan with Ler!Patton and Remus. Their relationship can be viewed as romantic or platonic. Around 2.300 words.

* Some fabulous works that inspired me with the idea and the teases (they’re from bnha)

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Take some time to remember about the litol cool things that you saw today! Fanfic, series, movies, a bird or a beautiful flower... anything that maded u happy! Drink water, sleep and eat! Today is another day and I’m proud that we’re both still here.

[~*~]

"Looking good, hot stuff." Arms hugged him from behind and Logan scoffed, as usual when confronted by feelings, behind his cup of coffee, drinking the remains of the liquid in a few gulps as he relaxed on the warm chest behind him. The morning was quiet and Patton’s humming on the kitchen was one of the few sounds that cut the air. Logan let his attention swim back to his book when the other began to nuzzle his neck, a small 'tsk' escaping between a tiny smile when his mustache hit a sweet spot on his shoulder.

 They both knew what that meant, after all, Remus wasn’t fond on keeping a subtle demeanor and they already had played this exact game thousands of times before.

 "Remus..."

 "Tickle me, Logan!" The pout was crystal clear on his voice, discarding the need of the other adult to turn back to notice it. "It’s been almost a week since last time! And. I. Need. My. Daily. Doses of. Tickles."

Logan growled, ignoring the amused crackle behind him and instead focusing on hiding his now complete red face on one of his hands, the other tightly gripping his book and depositing it on the tabletop in front of him. "How can you say this so nonchalantly?" It was his almost inaudible muffled whisper.

 "Because watching you become a blushy-blushed mess is sooo fun. ~"

 Another nuzzle, Logan scrunched his neck, containing his reactions.

 "Now, now, Re. Teasing Logan about how he is the most adorably-adorable bumblebee when he gets all blush-y and soft-y about tickling isn't very nice." Patton chirped from his spot, almost finished from doing the dishes, since the most serious of their group had been responsible for their breakfast and Remus would be making their dinner today. He could even pass as being very serious if it wasn’t for the smirk on his features betraying his words. "You know he can't stand hearing the word tickle. Or tickling. Or tickly."

 "Or ticklish, or tiggle, or even tickle, tickle, tickle-"

 In a smooth, quick movement, Logan turned his body, now being the one encircling the taller waist with his arms, fingers clawing on his sides, but not moving. Yet.

 "That is enough of you, squeaky toy."

 And Remus knew that just their previous playful banter had been more than enough to prompt Logan to get some revenge.

 However…

 Seeing him like this was just too much fun.

 His eyes glinted, a grin expanding on his face. "He is sooo flustered. Pat! Look at him! Isn't he adorable?"

 "I know, right!" Patton squealed in delight at the tiny, infinitesimal smile showing on the most serious one, ignoring Logan's grunt as he tried to hide his face in Remus' shoulder, grumbling something about teases and stupid, confident friends "But we can't be mean with him, sweetpea. Even if he is so precious and full of such beautiful reactions that makes us want to tease him over and over and over again." He whispered the last part, as if he was sharing a secret and the person they were talking about wasn't dying in the middle of their room.

 "Even his ears are red, now!!" Remus also lowered his voice, blowing a light steam of air on them as he talked. "You're the one being mean to me.” Logan more felt than saw Remus pointing a finger accusingly to the other, “telling me I can't tease him even knowing he will be all helpless and shy and cute.”

 "I would like to state that I hate you."

 "Shhh, Lo-lo! We're whispering! Which means you can't hear us."

 Snickers floated freely in the air. Logan’s warning jab at Remus’ side only made part of them evolve to amused crackles.

 "I am literally between you two, unless you talk in a language I do not master nor understand I can very much process the exact meaning of what you're pronouncing."

 They giggled harder. Logan's scoff deepened, he tried to untangle himself from the hold and walk away to the security of his room and his valorous notebooks where he could carefully think and plan a very special, tickly revenge for both, but a soft kiss on his flaming cheeks placated his impulse, - although not his mostly dramatic scoff and roll of eyes.

 "Patton!!!!” The one wearing a green pajama whined as if the world was ending and he was not the one to blame because of that, drops of fake-sadness dripping on his tune. “He is even pouting!”

 "FALSEHOOD!"

 “That is not fair!! Not. Fair."

 "Okay, okay, my dear.” Patton gave in, calm words. Logan looked smugly at Remus, who was now in the hold of the pout.

 “You can tease him more, but just a little."

 Logan squeaked when Remus triumphally shoved his face on his neck, working his way across the spot, mustache tickling and itching, until he was able to deliver a couple of nibbles right under his chin, drinking up the muffled yelps and snickers that that caused.

 Patton's gentle voice hit his ears just as he threw his head back in an attempt to escape the attack. "Just say 'glasses’ and we stop, okay?"

 Remus didn't say anything, although he stopped his attack, a hand finding his and squeezing reassuringly. The shorter smiled, a warmth flooding on his chest and pouring out of it in the way softness found the corner of his eyes, immediately hiding any hint of it on Remus' shoulder and nodding. Quiet, mumbled words.

 "Green."

 “Aw, what is the matter? Not so serious now, are we?” Remus purred, each word vibrating on his skin. “What a shame, what a shame, what a sad end for our rational, professional nerd boy. Just a few tickles here,” he quickly pinched the other’s thigh, making the arms tight around his waist, consequently pulling him closer, “some attention there,” nails found and traced whatevers on the length of his lower back, “a couple of  teases and tickles aaand then you’re already all defeated. Aww, my poor, poor, sensitive ler. ~”

 His confident tone was broken by a squeal when the fingers resting on his sides squeezed that spot, wiggling for a few seconds before stopping, enough for the taller to try to squirm away, only to find himself well stuck on the arms securing him in the same place. His gaze found danger on Logan��s glare.

 “Oh,” shivers ran his spine, “is that so?” Another squeak flew from him when the fingers curled, nails grazing the ticklish skin. “Please, care to elaborate?”

 Remus' excitement was written over his entire face. He began to bounce, however his giddy energy was controlled enough for him to be able to lower his head, a shit eating grin plastered on his lips, hands locking behind the other’s neck, exposing even more the spots on his torso.

 "Do your worst, my ler. ~"

 “Gasp! Lo-lo!” Logan blinked and, oh, when he opened his eyes Patton was on his vision field, with an adorable pout and arms crossed. “I can’t believe you’re going to tickle him first. I thought I was your favorite Gigglebug!”

 Another grunt escaped from his lips. That was it. Logan was done.

 “Patton…” He warned, mind already running to how to turn the tables before he got caught on their teases again.

 “You’re definitely our favorite gigglebug, Pattycake.” Remus nodded, extending one of his arms behind him and pulling Patton swiftly when they locked their hands, succeeding in making them both sandwich the taller in a hug. He danced his fingers on the other’s neck, making his pout disappear in a soft huff. “Buuut, I have the best snorts and squeals here. So, sorry not sorry, it seems like I will be getting all the tickles today.”

 “No, no!” Patton quickly jumped in on the playful demeanor, smiling and clinging on Logan from behind, bubbly giggles already escaping from his mouth. “My ler!!” He nuzzled between his shoulder blades, the sudden move leading the coffee-addicted one to arch his back, a silent gasp escaping from his lips.

 “You are both being ridicuLOUS-” His voice hitched as Patton focused on a rather… sensitive spot on his back, too much next to his ribs and not away enough from his spine. “P-p-patton. Sssstop!”

 Unfortunately, the fact of him holding the wrists of the hands resting peacefully under his armpits, trying to pry Patton away also meant he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the dangerous gleam surging on Remus’ eyes, nor the way his hands clawed in the air for a few seconds before descending on Logan’s hips, fishing a surprised shriek.

 “REMUS!”

 The aforementioned only smirked, thumbs digging on the ticklish flesh with ease, batting his eyelashes when Logan's awareness turned back at him, legs trying to kick himself away as his body squirmed in despair with the unexpected ruthless attack. “You’re going to tickle me first, right, nerd?”

 “No!!” The adult didn’t even get a chance to answer before kisses were being deposited on the sides of his neck, an index finger tickling that exact spot where it connected with his back, switching between encircling the spot to lightly scribble, scribble, scribble right on the middle on it, being careful to not let a single inch unattended. “I am the first! You’re such an amazing, lovely and good Ler, Logan! I won’t even cover my face this time! All the giggles and laughter and smiles just for you, cutiepants.”

 “Well, with me,” he highlighted the word by energetically scratching his others, previous free, fingers on his sides, delighted with the way the shorter’s laughter improved with it, “we can play all the tickle, tickly games he wants to! Hands up, Countdown, Don’t Smile, How Much Minutes Can You Endure… You name it, hot mess.”

 And a mess he was, indeed. Especially when Patton decided to pull his shirt up, slowly spidering his hands under the fabric, a tingly sensation following his path, and giggling as he prodded his way up to skitter his long, absurdly, horribly, amazingly long nails on the back of his ribs, sending shivers and tingles non stop on his torso. Both attackers cooing in synchrony as guffaws and squeaks started to paint his frantic laughter.

 “Lo-lo, don’t listen to him! I can help you to sing those nice, cute nursery rhymes that you like so much, remember? I love when we sing them together because you’re so great, smart and mean about it! Always doing things like crawling your fingers up, up, up, our ribs…” he punctuated his sentences by doing exactly what he described, “and then running them aaaaaall their way back to the sides!”

 “Wait!! Damn! Wait, please, wahahahait!”

 “Or when he discovers a new, horrible, unbearable spot,” Remus ignored the series of ‘nonono’s from the ‘victim’ as he focused two fingers on the patch of skin above his bellybutton, poking and pinching there, his free hand holding down the wrist that shoot in order to stop him “and he focuses all his attention on it, being sure to thoroughly tickle it and to remember us that we can wiggle and giggle all we want because we do absolutely nothing to stop it.”

 “And also, how much we love all of this! All the attention,” Patton kissed behind his left ear, traveling to the other with small raspberries when Logan clued it on his shoulder, shaking his head, “all the care,” kiss “all the teases,” a big raspberry “all the tickles,” a series of tender, soft pecks along his cheeks and ears “and how much happy that makes us feel!!”

 “And the best part? We will go on and on tickling you for hours and hours until we are all satisfied.”

 “I can’t! I cahahan’t!”

 “Yup!! We will just stay riiight here, giving you all the kitty kitty coo’s and coothie coothie coo’s you could ever want until we ask us to stop, okay? So, you just relax and enjoy it, Logie-bear.”

 “Plehehease!”

 “Tickle, tickle, tickle, nerd. What with that smile? Can’t take what you like to dish out? Tsk, such a pity, really. You know what is even greater, though? You can beg, you can say you’re sorry, you can promise to do anything we want but that won’t work. Do you know why?” Logan shook his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Because there is no reason for me to be doing this other than see you get tickled to pieces.”

 “Oh no, my dear, it seems like the tickle monsters got you! Isn’t that amazing? Having two lovely monsters who knows all your melt, fluff spots giving you exactly what you love? Knowing precisely what to do or what to say to make you a cute, adorable puddle of laughter and giggles that you so much love and crave to be? Huh? You absolutely love this, don’t you, my blushy bear?”

 “Enough! Enough!” Logan’s legs gave up, and in between his wheezing laughter, his yelps, squeaks and pleas a breathless ‘glasses’ made itself known, leading the tickling to a stop and to the three of them to lay carefully on the kitchen’s floor. Happy chuckles filling the silence.

 Silence.

 “So, did you choose which one of us you will tickle first?”

 “Actually, Pat-Pat, I think we make a great team.”

 Patton flung himself to the other, hugging him with a squeal. Remus couldn’t help but to reciprocate the touch, cooing over his excitement. “We do!!”

 “I agree.” Maybe it was how much closer and lower Logan’s voice was, or because of the thousands of memories that tune brought that made both froze so instantly, goosebumps traveling across their bodies with shots of adrenaline. “And I am sure you will make a much more endearing one, with matching helpless laughter and excited smiles, when I catch you. ‘When’ and not ‘if’, because I will find and catch you two, my ticklish lees. And when we are all reunited I am certain you will love all the ideas and experiments I have for you.” They slowly turned back, joyful expressions as their gaze found the malefic, playful glint shining along with the slightly blush on the Logan’s face.

 “You have five seconds.”

 Patton grabbed Remus’ hand, pulling them up.

 “Run.”

[babbushka]

Invitation Only

Bond Villain!Kylo Ren x 007!Reader 

3.5k ; NSFW (69, oral sex (m & f receiving) fingering, come eating, come swallowing, mirror sex, PIV)

Inspired by some prompts requesting masquerade/costume party with BV!K

Available on AO3

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

Sometimes, you can’t help but think as you make your way down the grand staircase, being an agent really does pay off.

It’s shockingly easy to sneak into the party, the ball. Because that’s what it is really, a grand costume ball hosted on Halloween. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to slip through the doors, everyone is wearing masks and therefore could be anyone in the world. By that same token, you could be anyone, and for tonight, you relish in the opportunity to be no one; the opportunity to simply enjoy the party, and try to gain some intel for Mi6. There were no attacks planned tonight, no fights – you didn’t even have any guns on you this evening.

No, you were here simply to mingle with the best of the worst; the most powerful criminals, evil villains and masterminds that the world had to offer.

So it should make sense, that you would run into Kylo.

You knew he would be here, of course. In fact, you had almost been counting on it, you had dressed for it. You knew he’d be here, and you knew that he knew you’d be here too, so you made sure to put on your most elaborate ball gown, hair done up to the nines, and of course a beautifully crafted mask tied around your face. You knew he’d appreciate the effort, and that he’d come find you to tell you just how much.

However, you hadn’t expected him to take his time finding you. You’d been at the costume ball for nearly two hours, a martini glass in one hand and a winning smile the only thing keeping you company as you rejected offers for dances from men and women alike. Kylo wouldn’t have been too pleased with that, you smirk to yourself behind your glass, and you weren’t here to cause a scene.

It’s elegant, the party. Set in one of these rich old men’s rich old homes, a castle atop a hill in the south of Germany proudly hosts nearly three hundred guests. Ornate candelabras and chandeliers are lit with the orange glow of candles, there are servants walking around with silver trays of food and drink, the baroque music is played by a lively orchestra, and henchmen and masters alike enjoy the merriment on the dance floor.

You have relocated to the upper level of the ballroom, one hand skimming along the banister railing that prevents guests from toppling down off the balcony which overlooks the dance floor. Eyes cast downward, you search through the group of beautifully organized dancers, trying to find the handsome villain you have come to adore.

When he comes up silently beside you, you grin.

“Are you aware that this party is invitation only?” Kylo muses, his voice deep.

You do not turn to face him, instead captivated by the way the dancers spin and move around one another, choreographed steps that have you itching to join them. Taking a sip of your martini, you smile.

“Who’s to say that I wasn’t invited?” You counter. The both of you know you weren’t invited, but what did it matter? You were here, you weren’t causing any trouble, there was no cause for alarm.

Kylo grins and puts his hand on the railing close to yours. He’s wearing gloves, the same as you are; but where yours are long satin opera gloves that go up to your elbow, his are short made of cotton, white and pristine.

“Finally decided to see the light and join the better side, have you?” He murmurs, voice low in your ear as he steps a little closer to you. He too casts his gaze down to the view below, approvingly.

“Maybe I have, or maybe I wanted an excuse to dress up, we’ll never know.” You shrug, finally turning to look at him.

“It’s a beautiful costume, but I’d much rather see what you’re hiding underneath it all.” He’s all teeth when he grins at you, sinister and handsome beyond belief.

Getting a good look at him, you rake your eyes over his body. He’s usually formal, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him in casual dress, but tonight he has truly taken it up a notch. He’s wearing a white bowtie along with his top hat and tails, his starched shirt handsomely pressed and near blindingly clean. His mask is nothing more than a thin strip of gauzy black fabric over his eyes, and you raise a brow. It does nothing to conceal his identity, unlike the more traditional masquerade mask that you sport.

“Incorrigible.” You swat his shoulder as you link your arm around his, allowing him to lead you away from the banister and down the stairs. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about.” Kylo replies easily, and you bite back a groan at his lines. Kylo is nothing if not dramatic, after all.

“Sorry, is that supposed to impress me?” You reply sarcastically instead, and Kylo chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that blooms into your side from where you’re holding onto him.

“Did it?” He teases.

“No.” You lie, and he only grins again. You’ve missed that smile, even though you’d never let him know that.

“Then no.” He lies right back, and before you can say anything else, he frowns suddenly. “You haven’t danced with anyone all evening.”

That observation doesn’t surprise you, but you feel the need to give him some grief about it anyway. Kylo leads you through the dance floor, the two of you wandering and meandering through joyous couples on the marble tile, careful not to bump into anyone as they spin and bow and step in time to the music.

“Oh so you’ve been watching this whole time, have you.” A waiter passes you by, and you place your empty martini glass onto the tray as he goes, both your hands free for what you hope will be a fun dance. “I wonder why you didn’t come see me sooner.”

Kylo falters for a moment, and that’s a rare sight to see, the sight of him biting the inside of his cheek with nerves.

“I wasn’t sure that you’d want to see me…our last meeting did not end as well as I always hope.” He replies quietly, and you sigh.

The last time you had seen one another was nearly two months ago, an agency helicopter swooping down to pick you up from a rooftop shootout in Spain. Kylo had been the one shooting at you that time, and you back at him.

“I know you missed on purpose.” You shake your head, “You have better aim than that.”

Seemingly appeased, Kylo stops right in the middle of the dance floor and turns to face you fully. The music ends and everyone turns to applaud the orchestra. That had been a short dance, so they do not take a break, the conductor murmuring to her musicians and telling them of the next piece.

“Dance with me, just one dance.” Kylo bows deeply before you, and offers a hand.

You do not hesitate to take it.

This piece is slower, much slower. It is heavily piano based, as opposed to the lively strings of the previous music, and you can’t help but wonder if Kylo planned it this way. The crowd thins a little as well, those who had tired themselves out while dancing their hearts away retiring to the sidelines for a new crop of villains to take the floor.

Kylo’s hand is on yours, his other tucked behind his back as you both follow along with the dance. Kylo has always been elegant in his own way, in everything he does, and the dancing is no different. In fact, as the strings begin to swell along with the piano, you feel as though you’re the only two people in the entire castle. You look into his eyes through his thin mask, and he stares into yours, and that is it, it is just the two of you.

Candles glow all around you as you and Kylo walk around one another, as he holds your hand and bows to you, as he never keeps his eyes off of you. In the back of your mind, you know that everyone is watching you. You, the mysterious woman who has shown up to this party, dancing with one of the most notorious and dangerous criminals among them. Who were you to have won his attention? Oh, if only they knew.

“You’re very good at this.” You say softly, so that only he can hear.

“I’ve been practicing.” He admits readily, and you let out a little laugh at that, at the image of him roping one of the Knights of Ren into dancing with him again and again. They’re good sports, supportive of their master, you wonder if they’re here tonight on the dance floor elsewhere, showing off the moves they have had to learn.

“Now that does impress me.” You smile, and he beams.

The piece comes to an end a few minutes later, minutes spent gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes, quirked shy smiles and affectionate squeezes of hands. Once again, like with every other time you’re with Kylo, he doesn’t feel like an enemy. You don’t feel like you’re surrounded by people who want to kill you, you feel…accepted, welcomed, warm.

Those are dangerous feelings for an agent to have about her target, but you have them nonetheless.

“Shall we get out of here?” Kylo asks you discreetly as you applaud the orchestra once the music ends.

You nod, having hoped that the evening would take this turn.

 The room he brings you to is lavish, luxurious, gorgeous. It looks as though it’s never been modernized from the time the castle was built, whenever that must have been. A great big canopy bed takes up the majority of the room, red velvet drapes with golden ropes holding them open framing the mattress. You hardly have any time to look at anything else, before Kylo is taking you by the hand and bringing you to it.

You step out of your shoes and follow him, his hands frantically searching for the zipper, the button, the clasps anything that will get you out of these clothes and into his arms, and you laugh fondly at his enthusiasm. He’s so enthusiastic in fact, that he drops down to his knees and crawls underneath your giant skirt, his hands working to unclip your garters, to pull your stockings down, to mouth at your pussy through your underwear.

“Kylo!” You gasp and laugh at how bold he is, “Get up here.”

“Naked, I want you naked. There’s too many layers.” He growls, doing as he’s told. You reach behind yourself for the hidden zipper, and when Kylo finds it too, he gives it a hard yank.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.” You snap when the dress protests with a creak, and Kylo only moans.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me baby.” Releasing your dress, his hands instead cup your throat, your cheek, as he kisses you sloppy hot and wet.

You kiss him back, unzipping the gown and letting it fall down your body. You remove your undergarments quickly as he kisses you still, his mouth insistent upon yours, his tongue firm and slick as it slides against your teeth. He’s still fully clothed, and he scowls about it, breaking away to begin shedding clothing of his own.

While he does that, you take the opportunity to climb up onto the bed. It’s massive, it feels like there could be five people fitting easily here, and it is so plush that you sink into it with a pleased hum. A fireplace crackles and snaps across the room, and though you’re naked in this big castle, you’re warm. Even warmer still, when Kylo’s naked body joins you on the mattress and pulls you tight against him.

He’s achingly hard, you can feel his cock brush against your thigh as he kisses you some more, touches you. His hand drifts down between your legs and he dips his fingers into the folds of you pussy, massaging and encouraging your cunt to drip all over him. You reach to do the same for him, but he shakes his head, kisses your jaw.

“Let me eat your pussy, I’ve been thinking about it for months baby, please.” He whispers, and you find that you would rather die than deny him.

“How do you want me?” You reply straight away, and he sucks in a breath, excited, eager, rife with anticipation.

“Sit on my face, right here.” He manhandles you a little until you get the hint, straddling his head, your knees on either side of his ears. He’s got you facing away from him, and hanging up on the wall is a grand ornate mirror in a gilded gold frame. Maybe he doesn’t notice, but you do, as he sighs and licks into you with an, “Attagirl.”

Your pussy throbs around his tongue, his fingers. He keeps two in you, rubbing at the front of your walls, thrusting in and out slowly while he licks and sucks at your cunt. Your nipples stiffen at once, and your hands come up to cup your breasts and give them a squeeze, the sensation going straight to your clit.

“Fuck,” You moan, “Fuck that’s good, Kylo,”

It’d been so long since you’d been pleasured like this, since you’ve had his nose prodding up into you, his fingers curling and crooking inside your body, stretching you, opening you up for what you’re sure will be the fucking of a lifetime when this is done.

You ride his face, hips moving of their own accord, wanting more, seeking more. You stare at your reflection, watch as you rise and lower yourself onto his tongue, how your pussy drools and soaks his chin, how he swallows it down with groans and hums and sighs of his own. You look up, there is a mirror there too, you wonder if Kylo’s able to see himself eating your cunt like this, or if his eyes are shut with pleasure.

“Your dick’s drooling for me.” You manage to sigh, “Let me take care of you Kylo.”

His thighs twitch and his knees bend, hips pushing up at the insinuation. He doesn’t stop licking sucking biting kissing fingering your pussy as you shift yourself forward so you can grasp the shaft of his cock with one hand and wrap your lips around the head that’s oozing pre-come just for you.

“Mmm!” Kylo chokes on your pussy with the first hard suck you give his cock, and you both laugh through it, laughter that turns to moans as he fingers you harder, eats you out faster, a challenge.

You’ve never been one to back down from anything, and you don’t plan on backing down from this. You hollow out your cheeks and work him down down down your throat, until your nose nestles in the thick black patch of hair, your neck bulging out from where you’ve managed to fit nearly all of him.

Bobbing your head, your hands wind around his thighs and stroke at his calves, teasing touches that have him gasping as he buries his face in your pussy.

“Fuck – baby – I’m gonna -- !” Kylo moans and grunts into your pussy as he thrusts his hips up and fucks your throat, wishing he had a hand in your hair to keep your head down, keep you steady.

You pull off him quickly so you don’t choke, just as his come spurts from the head of his cock, landing all over his stomach, the hard firm muscle twitching as you jerk him off, stroking every last drop you can squeeze out.

“God you’re good to me.” Kylo grunts, nearly blacking out when you lean down to lick away some of his come, the flat of your tongue scooping it up off his skin and swallowing it. He smacks your thigh playfully for the effort, makes you whine.

“Fuck it into me,” Your voice is raw, used, but you reach for one of his hands and guide it to the pool of come on his abs. “Make me come on yours, mix it together.”

Kylo does as he’s told, moans into your cunt as he smears his fingers through his own come and pushes them into you, coating your insides with it. He thrusts his fingers hard and fast, until you’re riding his face in earnest to meet his pace, watching through lidded eyes in the mirror as your tits bounce and your body sweats on top of his.

When you come, you drench Kylo’s face, and the slurping sounds that come from his mouth as he swallows you down have you coming even harder, until you’re shaking, thighs trembling, and you have to be moved by him to lay on your side.

“Holy shit I missed this.” You laugh, delirious with bliss, and Kylo only hums in agreement, his cock still hard.

He doesn’t reply, instead shuffling down a little to worry one of your nipples between his lips, his arms wrapping around your middle tight. You sling a leg over his hip and card your fingers through his hair as he kisses and licks at your breasts, the both of you trying to catch you breath, shocks of pleasure rippling through your nerves.

After a while, Kylo’s breathing evens out so much, that you’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fallen asleep with your tits in his mouth. You gently tug on one of his ears and he groans, the kind of groan deep in his chest that only confirms you were right.

“We can’t stay here Kylo, someone will surely find us.” You say regrettably, still very aware of the masquerade ball which continues on downstairs. Music is playing, people are talking and laughing, all of those sounds come seeping back into your consciousness as the post-orgasm glow fades from your mind.  

“If they do I will simply tell them to fuck off.” Kylo only holds you tight, nuzzles his face further into your cleavage.

“I know you think you can do whatever you’d like but really don’t you think that’s in poor taste?” You chuckle, amused, twirling pieces of his long dark hair around your finger and giving them a little playful yank.

“Why should it be? This is my castle.” Kylo suddenly is invigorated, and your eyebrows shoot up as he rolls you over so that you’re lying on your back.

Your legs fall open for him, and he easily works his cock into your stretched and relaxed cunt, pussy giving way to him happily, easily. He doesn’t thrust, just holds himself there, holds himself above you as realization dawns across your face.

“…This is yours?” You blink, wondering how you had never known before, wondering just how many other lairs he had.

“Of course.” Kylo leans down to kiss your throat, your jaw, nibbling at your ear. “I threw this party. I wanted to see you.”

Of all the dramatic, theatrical, over the top schemes! You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head and covering your face with embarrassment that you had fallen for such a thing. Surely he knew by now that he could just call you, he didn’t have to go planning something so elaborate.

But – then again, this was Kylo.

Yes he did.

“I hate you.” You grin, and Kylo only takes the opportunity to start moving his hips in earnest, to start fucking you with that never ending stamina he seems to have whenever you’re around, and you laugh, filled with bliss and pleasure as he corrals your legs around his waist, one pushing up his shoulder to get a deeper angle, making you gasp out, “I hate you so much!”

Kylo only grins right back at you, those crooked teeth wanting nothing more than to dig into your flesh, to leave their marks, their bruises in your skin as your mouth falls open and your back arches into his touch. You’re watching yourself through the mirror on the ceiling, and you think that this is a good look, you spread out on the bed under him.

Kylo can tell you’re thinking too hard, and that won’t do, not for this evening. In the morning you can both deal with the fact that you’ve gathered absolutely no intel, that you’re an agent, that you’re the agent – but for now, for now Kylo kisses you, and smiles against your lips as you moan around his cock, and whispers against your tongue,

“Why don’t you close your eyes and hate me some more?”

And you do, except that you don’t.

In fact, you’re sure that after tonight, you’ll never be able to hate him again.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Trust You to Cheapen the Moment

George Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 8 & 12

"Come on, [y/n or Character] just take off your shirt and tell us!"/"you're over me? When were you...under me?"

Warnings: Sexual innuendo. Swearing.

"Congratulations on a great game tonight boys!" Lee Jordan called as Fred and George entered through the portrait hole, still sporting their Quidditch uniforms which were currently soaked in sweat.

"Thanks mate" the Twins replied in unison.

The match had been against Ravenclaw and although Gryffindor naturally won, it hadn't been an easy feat. One which involved George coping a rather nasty bludger to the ribs. As such their win inevitably concluded with a stern lecture from their team Captain, Oliver Wood who remarked their performance as "sloppy". This being the reason as to why they were late to their own victory party.

"Well, hello boys" [Y/N] called as she made her way toward the three boys by the entrance, accompanied by a friend of her own. "Playing a tad messy these days, aren't we?" She goaded with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, alright [Y/N]! Red Hot you are. Sounding frightfully like our beloved Captain." Fred replied as everyone laughed.

[Y/N]s attention fixed to George as her face wore a notably more sincere expression. "How you feeling, Georgie?" "Like I took a bludger to the guts." He chuckled somewhat painfully. "I'll live, just need a good hot shower and to get out of this sweat drenched uniform." He tugged at the tight fabric which clung uncomfortably to his skin.

"I'll happily help you out of it, if you find yourself in need of a spare set of hands?" [Y/N] wriggled her eyebrows. Smiling at his friends innuendo George ran his tongue over his bottom lip before raising his own brows, as if contemplating the girls offer.

"Yeah, alright you two, wrap it up!" Fred intervened pushing the pair back by their shoulders as if stopping a fight. "George, as much as I'm with you on that shower and change idea, need I remind you we have a...previous engagement to attend to." He pointedly looked to his brother.

"What 'previous engagement'" Lee questioned.

"Super secret Weasley Twin Business." Fred winked.

"I can't believe you're leaving me out of your super secret twin business!" Lee protested, feigning dejection.

"Sorry, Lee" George offered a consoling smile. "Forget you. What about ME!" [Y/N] interrupted. "Come off it, there's no way you planned a prank without me..."

"But we did" they shrugged. "It's nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over" George teased with a pout. "What is it?" Lee asked, but the two remained quiet.

"Oh, come on, George. Just take off your shirt and tell us!" [Y/N] spat with a wicked grin. George stepped toward her slowly placing both of his large hands either side of her jaw and peering into her eyes. He leant down so his mouth was centimetres from her skin, whispering into her ear "Not happening, lovely." His hands slid down her neck, passing over her shoulders before finally retreating at they met her elbows. He smiled at the ever so faint blush that fanned her cheeks. "Okay, fine. So you won't tell us. But seriously...where'd we land on the shirt situation?" [Y/N] yanked on the uniform fabric playfully while biting her lip.

"Oh would you two just fuck already! This whole teasing thing makes my stomach turn." The other Weasley rolled his eyes before grabbing hold of his brothers wrist, "come on, lover boy. We've got mischief to attend to." He pulled George away from the group of friends, but not before he was able to send a suggestive wink to [Y/N] over his shoulder.

Fred did have a point when you thought about it. [Y/N] and George had been friends since first year after spending a day in detention together for being caught out past curfew, for separate reasons. [Y/N] and the Twins always had a playful relationship and it seemed impossible for them to go more than three minutes without making a joke or coming up with some new prank idea or bet between the three of them. The relationship between [Y/N] and George however, over the years, became substantially more provocative. Never becoming physical by any means, mainly they just threw a lot of innuendos toward one another. Just a bit of harmless, totally platonic, flirting really.

It'd been that way since their fourth year which makes it a few years now that Fred has found himself uncomfortably situated between the two obviously pining best friends, whom continuously deny any such feelings of course.

While the Twins had set off on their...other business, that left the remaining three to enjoy the Post-match festivities currently unfolding within the Gryffindor common room.

A little while into the celebrations, [Y/N] and her friend found themselves accompanied by some of the more eligible bachelors of Gryffindor Tower, about ankle deep in discarded Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey bottles.

"Come on, [Y/N] how's about a dance?" Dustin, a rather attractive boy she knew, spoke with an endearing smile gracing his face. "Flattered as I am by your proposal, I must decline." She slurred. "Why not?" The boy reached for her hand tracing small circles on the soft skin with his thumb while he stared into her eyes. "Because I don't fucking want to." The girl laughed retracting her hand from his. "Excuse us, won't you boys?" Her friend stood, pulling [Y/N] up with her. "Uh-oh...I'm in trouble" she faked concern before breaking into giggles as she was pulled from the common room.

Finding herself promptly being dragged down a flight of stairs into the adjoining corridor which, given the time, was obviously eerily abandoned.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Uuhh you mean aside from the fact my buzz was just absolutely murdered after being ripped away from a party I was thoroughly enjoying? Not much." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, why do you keep turning Dustin down? You know he fancies you! Why not give him a chance?" Her friends voice was sincere and a little giddy as she questioned. "Because I am not interested in Dust Bin." [Y/N] doubled over in laughter at her own joke. Latching on firmly to her friends shirt in an attempt to remain upright. Cackling styled laughter reverberated off the deserted corridor walls as [Y/N] was being shushed and told to compose herself. "Quiet [Y/N]!" her friend giggled at the state of her. "Is it, you're not interested in Dustin, because you're still hung up on George?" "Pffft, Pah-LEASE I am so over George." She slurred with a dramatic shove of the friends shoulder.

"You're over me?" The words called from behind her and like a cool breeze on the nape of her neck chills ran sharp through her spine. [Y/N]'s eyes widened while the friend infront of her smiled brightly, sending a taunting wave her way before disappearing back up the stairs to the common room. "When were you...under me?" The girl couldn't bring herself to turn around, she could practically hear that devious smirk playing on his voice. Her body was rigid as her blood ran cold. Talk about a sobering experience. Shutting her eyes tightly to muster the courage she tentatively began to turn her body, facing the boy with a painfully embarrassed grimace.

"You heard too much of that for me to get out of this on some elaborate lie, didn't you?"

"Yep." George stood smugly before her. Hands deep in his trouser pockets as he'd obviously had that shower and change he were so desperately craving. He looked good. White button up with the sleeves scrunched above his elbows haphazardly and a lazy Gryffindor tie around his neck. [Y/N] found herself having to swallow a lump in her throat at the sight. "Right from the rather insensitive comment made of my good mate...Dust Bin." The ginger chuckled taking a few steps forwards.

[Y/N] let out a long, defeated, sigh turning her head over her shoulder in thought. Her jaw clicked as she contemplated her next words carefully. If only she could think of anything to say. She was fumbling over various syllables, all of which were incoherent. George laughed at her nervousness and held a hand out for her to take, "Come here." He spoke softly. What else was there to lose? She accepted and felt as her body warmed from the feeling of his hand gripping hers tightly.

Neither said a word as George lead her quietly further away from the Gryffindor Tower. It wasn't until they approached the Astronomy Tower stair case [Y/N] made to speak, but was promptly shushed. 'You'll see' he told her.

The Weasley stopped at the top most stair, watching her as he slowly opened the door leading to the balcony. Eyes never leaving her face, smiling sweetly as he witnessed her expression shift slowly from one of bewilderment to awe.

Laid out in front of them was an abundance of pillows, set upon a thick blanket, surrounded by various sweet platters and floating candles like the ones in the Great Hall only much smaller. [Y/N]s hands sprang to her mouth in shock, she'd never seen such a romantic setting. Staring from the picnic to the stars that shone so brightly over head, with every Galaxy and Constellation clearly visible, she was lost for words. A startled gasp was the only noise to peirce her lips silence.

George watched fondly at the sparkle held within her eyes. Nothing but love in his as he stepped behind her, hands gently resting on her shoulders to move her forward. He nestled into the side of her neck while he walked her slowly so he could whisper in her ear, "I had actually planned on telling you first, tonight, about how I feel. But it seems you've unwilling stolen my chance." "Oh George..."

"I know, it's bloody good right?" He commented cockily. "Come on. Sit."

"So I take it this was the super secret twin business you had to attend to?" She said smiling as he made himself comfortable beside her gazing towards the sky.

"Yep. That and Fred wanted to set off some Dung Bombs in Snapes office. He's down there now." [Y/N] began to laugh and she suddenly captured every ounce of Georges attention. It's in moments like this he found her most beautiful. When she were genuinely happy. "You shouldn't have gone through all this trouble." She spoke earnestly. "You're worth it."

"That's so cheesey."

"You love cheese!"

"I do don't I?"

The two laughed, [Y/N]s head dropping as she did so before George raised her attention back to him with a finger placed delicately under her chin.

"[Y/N], I've liked you for so long now that I-I can't even remember when I realised. I just...did. You mean so much to me that it's scary" he was kneeling before her now. Hands grasping hers, "and I don't want to hear that you're over me because I don't think that I will ever be able to get over you." [Y/N] was staring fixedly into his eyes, heart thundering in her ears. Unable to believe this were happening. "I fall for you a little more everyday. I fall with every smile. Every laugh. Every sleazy innuendo you throw my way. I can't help falling and I just couldnt go another day without knowing if there were even a possibility that you may feel the same way. If you fall for me the same way I do for you. It's why I took that hit today, on the pitch, I was so distracted about tonight that I-"

"You saying that was my fault are you? That you got hurt." [Y/N] was smiling widely, eyes glistening with tears she knew were unlikely to fall but were there nonetheless.

"Ab-so-LUTE-ly it's your fault!" George continued her teasing with a beaming smile that shone nearly as bright as the stars above them.

"I do George. Feel the same. I'm not over you because...because there's just no getting over you."

George let out a relieved and amazed breath. He doubted he'd ever felt happier in his life than in this moment.

Both his hands came to rest either side of her face as he hastily leant his face towards hers before restraining himself. Eyes pouring into hers as hers were staring back. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

[Y/N] smiled softly, hands coming to lay gently on his elbows, "yes" she breathed before nodding quickly. A hand shot up behind his neck to bring their faces together, lips meeting for the first time. He pulled her into his lap swinging both arms around her waist as her free hand tugged on his tie.

[Y/N] pulled back to catch her breath while George peppered soft, frantic kisses down her jaw and neck.

"So tell me..." her head fell back in pleasure as she clung to him for support and felt as he hummed against her skin in response, "now that we've established I'm not over you. When can I get under you?" She smirked chuckling slightly. He rolled his head up to meet her gaze, staring unbelievably at her words as a reluctant smile crept across his lips. George groaned at the pun before pushing her down into the pillows, body hovering above hers as she left out a squeal at his action. Laughing in a way only George could ever make her.

"Trust you to cheapen the moment."

[ksyescribe]

Visitor (Shouta Aizawa x Reader)

Prompt: A certain Pro-Hero’s taken a liking to you. So much so that he visits you in the dead of night after particularly difficult patrols.

Ship: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Content: Fluff, That’s it I was feeling soft,

A/N: I had this idea WEEKS back but when I tried to rewrite it from the first draft to now it just didnt work out. Like I don’t know what the hell it was but it wasn’t coming together. BUT today that hurricane rain came in strong as hell and inspiration struck. Does it flow? I think it does. Does the tone stay consistent? Probably not but it’s part of the learning process. And honestly I loved writing it so whatever :’) I hope you guys enjoy it

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Few things in Shouta's life truly brought him peace.

He could list them off on one hand if he needed to: the cat cafe that sat on the outskirts of town, a good cup of coffee, the small cabin he owned in the mountains down south, and of course you.

Standing in the doorway to your kitchen, as you busied yourself with making two cups of coffee, he remembered why.

Things were simple with you. When he watched you like this, it was easy for him to pretend just for a second that the two of you lived an ordinary, domestic life. Together.

It's not that he didn't enjoy his hero work, quite the opposite; in fact, he loved it. But when you were around, it was almost as if he craved to settle down, start a family, and just live a normal life like any other civilian could.

But he knew better.

He wasn't a chart-topper hero like All Might or Endeavour, but he still made enemies for himself as he worked. Which meant no one close to him was safe from them as long as he was active.

Hell, his colleagues didn't even know of your existence. But that was mostly because Shouta only visited you in the late hours of the night. After rough patrols, when he needed to destress, he came to you.

It wasn't often. He didn't want to make it a habit of relying on you in case things went south. But, there were nights where his body ached to be with you, and he just couldn't turn himself away from your cozy apartment.

While he lost himself in thought as he watched you, you smiled to yourself as you whipped up some small snacks to go along with your coffee.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up."

The soft tone of his voice broke him out of his trance. It sent small tremors down his spine as a feeling he can only describe as "comfort" settled in the tired crevices of his body. He raised an eyebrow at your back, "How did you know I was here?"

You press your lips together, preventing a full-blown smile from spreading over your lips. Truthfully, you'd heard the click of your balcony door opening earlier. That, paired with the unknown feeling which had been sitting in the pit of your stomach, had alerted you of the Pro-Heroe's arrival.

Breathy laughter fell from your lips, "Just a feeling."

His eyes narrowed at your back as you put the last finishing touches on the drinks and food items at hand.

"What? Like a sixth 'Shouta instinct' or something?" he snorts.

Now, you let out small giggles, "Yeah, something like that."

And then you turn around, and for Shouta, the world stops.

He really should be used to it by now. Really, he should.

It's not like this is the first time he's seen you. He's seen you plenty of times before, but for some reason, it's almost like every single time is the first time.

His eyes drink in the contours of your face. The way sharp edges contrasted with softer curves. The shape of your nose, the quirk of your lips, the way your eyes light up when your gaze lands on him.

God, he's always overwhelmed when he sees you for the first time. His body screams at him to reach out and hold a hand against your face. He wonders if you'd nuzzle your face into the callouses of his hands or if you'd just simply smile at him, content to have him touching you in some sort of way.

The grip he has on his biceps tightens as he crosses his arms tightly to avoid reaching out to you.

He doesn't have that luxury.

You barely notice, still giving him a full-lipped smile as you move towards him with a full cup of coffee. In his 'special' mug nonetheless.

It's a simple little kitten mug you had picked up in some bookstore you'd been browsing. He'd been caught off guard when you presented it to him the first time, that he couldn't help the full-body laugh he had let out.

"I couldn't get a cat, no pets allowed in the apartment." You had said with a small shrug, avoiding his gaze, "Thought this would be the next best thing."

It had quickly become one of many items deemed as "his" within your apartment.

"Every night I get that feeling, you show up," you say as you elaborate on your previous statement.

You're standing in front of him now, an arm's length away, waiting for his hands to reach out so you can pass the mug to him.

"Every, single, time," you say as you push the mug into his outstretched hands, fingers brushing against his for a mere moment.

He inhales sharply as he feels your fingers brush his for that small second. Just that tiny brush has his skin on fire. His hands felt electric.

You look at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile as you hear him take a deep breath. You mistakenly assume it's to smell the coffee, "It's a new brew! It smells just divine, doesn't it?"

Shouta's not fond of overused cliches, but he can't help but think of the word "sparkle" as he looks into your eyes. The light reflecting off them showcases your intense joy. It felt infectious. He can feel himself soften even more as he takes in your expression. Your face practically radiates happiness as you look up at him expectantly.

"Yes," he breathes out, "Divine."

Your eyes widen a fraction at his reaction, a small trembling breath slipping past your lips. Your eyes drop as you feel your cheeks begin to heat up at the implications of his words. He can't possibly be talking about coffee with that sort of tone, right?

Clearing your throat quietly, you step back, turning around to collect your mug from the counter.

His fingers tighten around the mug as he watches the space between you grow again.

He hates it.

Hates keeping you at arm's length. He wants you with him.

Every second of every day. He wants you at his side.

It's a realization he's come to over the past few months of this arrangement. Coming to your apartment past midnight. You welcoming him with open arms, even going as far as feeding him.

He's fallen for you.

Despite the dangers of his life. Despite what he's done to keep this "relationship," the two of you have as platonic as possible. You've somehow managed to burrow yourself deep into his heart. In all honesty, he's not sure he wants to remove you from there.

It's why he hasn't stepped foot inside your house for the last few weeks. He needed to put some distance between you. Something to reduce the effect you had on him.

But now, standing here in your kitchen again. It seems like the distance only made his feelings stronger.

He's hopelessly in love with you, and he isn't sure what he can even do about it.

His attention is once again captured by you, as you gesture towards the table. Taking the hint, he moves over, seating himself in one of the unoccupied chairs. You across from him in the other, placing down a plate with food in front of him.

Silently, he dips his head in a small bow, thanking you for the food.

"Itadakimasu," you mumble before taking a sip of the dark liquid. Shouta mimics your actions, relishing in the warmth that the coffee provides him.

It's perfect. Sweet with just a tang of bitterness to keep him grounded.

The two of you sit silently. Picking off items from the plate as you continue to sip your drinks.

You're the one who breaks the silence.

"Did" you pause before continuing, "did I do something?"

Shouta pauses for a mere second, his lips centimeters from the rim of the cup as he takes in your stuttering inquiry. Then, he takes a sip before raising an eyebrow at you, "What do you mean?"

You gaze down at the dark liquid, your fingers fidgeting around the mug as you gather up the courage to speak again.

"I just," you let out a small sigh before continuing, "Before tonight, you hadn't passed by in weeks."

He watches as you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening them once again. Your gaze finding his.

"I just wanted to know if I did anything to offend you..." you trail off hesitantly.

Once again, Shouta's reminded of how beautiful your face is. Even with concerned features, the beauty doesn't leave your face at all.

His head begins to shake, "No. You didn't do anything. Trust me."

Already, the creases of worry begin to disappear from your face.

"Then, what is it?" you ask as you tilt your head at him.

He brings the mug back up to his lips. Taking long sips, he buys some time to think of an excuse. What can he even say to you?

"I..." he trails off, racking his brain for anything. God, he's usually so fast with his kids, but it seems like that's nonexistent with you.

But he doesn't get a chance to respond before you blurt out, "If it's because of me, I promise that you aren't an inconvenience!"

You lean forward on your elbows as you speak quickly but quietly, "I swear! I may be quiet because it's past midnight, not that there's anything wrong with you showing up at this hour, but I promise I really enjoy your presence. I mean, it's nice to have someone to talk to. It gets lonely around here, and I'm always looking forward to your visits. I really like you, you know?"

Shouta manages to keep his expression passive, but he can't help but inhale sharply at your declaration.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you let slip out. That sets you off on another talking spree.

"O-Oh my god I didn't mean to. I just, I mean, you're a wonderful person to be around. You're good company to have around. Not that anyone's saying you're not good company. I just, oh god, I'm so sorry for making this awkward. You don't have to say anything I promise I'll just drink my coffee in silence and you can lea-"

Shouta's hand on your wrist causes you to stop abruptly. He holds your gaze over the rim of his cup as he takes another drink. He's not saying anything, but still, you feel your cheeks burning. God, he probably thinks you're an absolute idiot.

Quietly he places the cup down, raising an eyebrow at you, "So, you like me?"

If possible, the warm sensation on your cheeks gets stronger. He's trying to get a reaction out of you, and it's working.

"I-I..." you stutter out weakly. But he's already shaking his head at you, a sly smile on his face.

"It's okay, kiddo," you scowl at the despised nickname he calls you, "I'm fond of you too."

"I'm only five years younger than you!" you retort back.

"Is that what you decided to focus on?" He strokes long lines along your wrist as he smirks at you, waiting for you to counter.

You're so thrown off that you can't respond. Instead, you open and close your mouth as you try to formulate a response. Your brain's still trying to process his confession.

He tilts his head at you, "So, you want to know why I haven't been coming around these past few weeks?"

Not trusting your voice, you nod slowly at him.

"Well," he clears his throat, his eyes dropping to where his hand is resting on your wrist, "there's no reason for me to beat around the bush, so I'll just come out and say it."

Your eyebrows pull together as you look on curiously, sensing the shift of his tone.

"I stopped coming around because I felt like I was getting too attached to you." His eyes flick back up to yours, watching as you try to decipher what his words mean.

You knew that Shouta was an independent man. Lived alone, worked alone, fought alone. He held everything he needed to survive and fight within himself. So you can understand that distancing himself from something when he became too dependent would be logical. But, you didn't think that applied to people too. Regardless, why would depending on people be such a bad thing?

He watches as you lose yourself deep in thought. You're mouthing inaudible words as you confusingly work your way through the ideas in your head. He figures you'll need a helping hand to make sense of it all.

"What I mean to say is," he watches your eyes meet his, "I started to develop feelings for you. Knowing my track record, with villains and all, I thought it'd be best to put some distance between us."

Immediately you're sitting up straighter, the mood in the room shifting quickly.

"That isn't your decision to make." Your eyes bore into his, all traces of playfulness and nervousness disappearing from your face, "I know what your work entails. I know it's dangerous, but I don't care. I'm the only one who gets to decide if something is too dangerous for me to handle. You don't get to do that for me."

In his grasp, you turn your hand over, as you slide your pal up to meet his. He watches as you interlace your fingers together. Your fingers filling the gaps between his perfectly.

"And I already decided a long time ago that being with you is worth it." You squeeze his hand reassuringly as you finish talking.

His gaze trained on where you're joined together. There's an indescribable emotion unfurling deep within his chest. His eyes flit back up to meet yours, determination shines clearly within them.

"I have enemies. People who want to harm me. They'll come for you too."

"I know," your gaze never wavers, "and I don't care. Let them come for me."

He'll die before he lets any of them come near you.

"I'm constantly working. If it's not school, then I'm patrolling."

"I know, and I don't care. My schedule's changing weekly. It doesn't bother me."

"I can't give you a normal relationship."

"I don't want normal. I want you."

Empty mugs and dinnerware sit between the two of you. Your hands are still joined together in the middle of the table.

You hold each other's gaze, attempting to decipher the emotions that swirl within your eyes. Shouta's hesitation shines brightly within his. He's not sure if he wants to drag him down into this world with him. Your determination doesn't falter, but now there's hope that mixes with it. You're not scared of this. He's a good man, and you'd risk anything to stand at his side.

"It seems like you've thought about this a lot."

You nod at him, "I have."

He nods silently, eyes flickering back to your hands, "Well, since it's your choice, what do you want to do? Now that you have all the facts, that is."

You take a deep breath, a smile finding its way onto your lips, "I want you to go out on a date with me."

He lets out a breath of laughter. You sure don't waste time. "I'm free next Saturday. But let me tell you, I'm not particularly fond of those over the top places."

You snort, waving him off with your free hand, "Luckily for you, I'm not either."

You give his hand a small reassuring squeeze, glancing at him, "Saturday at 8?"

"Saturday at 8."

[cali-holland]

Sacred New Beginnings- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by @stahpppppp​ : Reader is a famous singer and she is friends with Zendaya. Based on Taylor Swift song “Cornelia Street” 🙂 Thank you!

Prompt: You fall in love with Tom on Cornelia Street

Word Count: 3100

Based On: Cornelia Street (and kinda I Think He Knows) by Taylor Swift

Warnings: sexual themes, probably swearing

A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this, I’ve had it finished for agesss

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Come on, just a few drinks.” Zendaya nudged you, encouragingly, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Tom will be there.”

“Like that changes my answer.” You joked, hoping she didn’t catch the blush creeping on your cheeks. She did. “I need to finish writing for my album.”

“The bar will give you inspiration!” She insisted. “You’re coming!”

“Fine.” You huffed, not wanting to deal with her persistent nagging any longer.

She was your best friend, ever since you met at an awards show where the two of you both snuck in food in your bags and shared it with each other. You didn’t live in New York, you were renting a small townhouse in the city, seeking a new environment to finish writing your album. It happened to be that Zendaya was also in the city, filming for Spider-Man for a few weeks. 

While filming the last movie, you’d gone to visit her on set, and that’s where you met- and developed a school girl crush on, Tom Holland. He was dreamy, charming, handsome, and you had completely fallen for him over the course of those couple weeks you were in Georgia. Over the past couple years, you two had kept in contact via social media, but nothing too elaborate or special, and neither of you managed to see each other in person again. Until now, when you’d be seeing him for the first in a couple years and you just hoped it could take your mind off of your album.

You quickly got ready to go to the bar with Zendaya, who was already (because she showed up at your door, demanding you go after you ignored her texts). Once you were finally satisfied with your look for the night, you two left your place on Cornelia Street and got into a taxi, heading to the bar where you’d meet up with Tom and the rest of the cast.

“Do I look okay?” You asked, a hand subconsciously playing with your hair nervously until Zendaya lightly slapped it away.

“You look amazing, and by the way, I know for sure that Tom’s still single.” She said proudly.

“I didn’t even ask.” You replied, shaking your head at her in disbelief as the cab driver came to a stop in front of the bar.

“I’m just saying.” Your best friend shrugged innocently at you. You both shuffled your way out of the cab and hurried inside of the bar. Even though you’d only been outside for a minute, you already regretted not pairing your outfit with a jacket- the chill autumn air wasn’t your friend tonight.

“You all remember Y/N, right?” Zendaya smiled, pulling you up to the crowded table with her. Around the table, you recognized Tom, Jacob, and two others beside Tom- one you believed was Harrison (but you only briefly met him two years ago) and you were pretty sure the other was Tom’s brother, who you had never met.

“How could we forget?” Tom spoke up, smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey, everyone.” You greeted. Zendaya took one of the two open seats at the table, leaving the only open one between her and Tom. She smiled innocently at you. Before you even sat in your chair, you nodded your head back to the bar. “I’m gonna go grab a drink. Anyone want more?” With a chorus of yes’s coming from the group, Tom got up to accompany you over to the bar, insisting he could help you get all the drinks. After you two ordered the next round of drinks, he turned to you to start a conversation.

“How’s the album going?” Tom asked you, and you looked at him surprised, wondering how he knew that you were working on an album- you’d tried to keep it private. Seeing your shock, he explained, “Z said you were here for an album.”

“Oh yeah, came here for inspiration, but I’m slowly starting to lose it.” You sighed, feeling a little defeated. 

“What’s the album about? Is it like- what do they call it, a concept album?” He laughed, hoping he’d gotten the word right, and you nodded.

“I guess the concept I’ve been going for is a letter to love itself.” You said, “I know, it sounds cheesy, but-”

“No, it sounds great. I’m sure it’s going to be a killer album. Your music’s amazing, you’re really talented.” He reassured you as the bartender set the numerous drinks on a small tray in front of the two of you, but neither of you made any effort to move/

“Thank you. I just have two more songs left to write for this album.”

“Do you know what they’re about yet?”

“I have this idea from one of them.” You started and he nodded, encouraging you to continue. You laughed as you tried to think of the words, “It’s kind of a quiet confidence, but still cool and sexy- the feeling of that first feeling of attraction. I just can’t find the right lyrics for it yet.”

“Are lyrics normally hard for you to write?” Tom asked. You could tell that he was genuinely intrigued, even though you were worried you’d started to bore him with album talk. Tom took a sip of his drink as he waited for your response.

“Not really, which is why I’m so frustrated with these two songs.”

“Well,” He paused, “Why don’t you come up with a lyric about me? I mean, you said “that first feeling of attraction”, so-”

“Are you implying that I’m attracted to you?” You laughed, teasingly.

“Are you implying that you’re not?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Fine.” You took a moment to look him up and down, your eyes landing on his hand holding onto his beer, before you looked him in the eyes, “I think he knows his hand around a cold glass makes me wanna know that body like it’s mine.”

“Were you two ever going to bring back our drinks?” Zendaya questioned, appearing behind the two of you, making both you and Tom jump back in surprise.

“We were just heading back.” Tom insisted, grabbing the tray of drinks, and you and Zendaya both quickly grabbed a couple glasses because all three of you knew Tom would absolutely not make it back to the table without spilling one of the many drinks. Once settled in back at the table, you quickly got out your phone and wrote down the line you’d said to Tom, feeling like it suited your song well.

After a few hours of laughing, drinking, and just catching up with the whole group, you all decided it was probably best to head out. Harry, Harrison, Jacob, and Zendaya all filled up one cab, and Tom stayed behind with you to catch a second one.

“Are you cold?” Tom asked as you shivered lightly, waiting for an empty taxi. Before you could even reply, he had taken off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.

“Then, you’re going to be cold.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, “I’m not going to have you get frostbite because you gave me your jacket.”

“It’s not even that cold out.” He shook his head at you in disbelief, but rested his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer to him. After a moment, he moved one of his hands to cup your chin and kissed you. It was a little sloppy and drunken, you could easily taste the beer on his lips, but it was still perfect to you. He pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, “We should go.”

“Yeah,” You let out a small sigh, stepping away from him to hail the next taxi.

“Where are you headed?” The driver asked as you two got into the cab. Tom said the name of his hotel, and the cab took off, beginning its journey.

“You know, I’m renting a place on Cornelia Street.” You said casually in the backseat beside Tom. Feeling the strength of the bar’s alcohol (mixed with the overwhelming attraction you felt for Tom), you hoped you weren’t too forward as you said, “You could stay there tonight, if you want to.”

“I’d love to.” Tom smiled. Relieved, you informed the cab driver of your address, telling him to scratch the previous instructions. Tom tentatively reached over to take your hand in his, making you smile at him.

The driver pulled up to your townhouse and you paid him quickly before basically stumbling out of the car with Tom, his hand still tightly holding yours. Once inside, you had barely gotten the front door closed when Tom kissed you, his hand dropping yours to wrap around your waist. It was hungry and passionate, and you never wanted it to end.

“Bedroom?” He mumbled, just barely bringing his lips off yours.

“Third floor.” You laughed lightly as he sighed. “Gotta get some good cardio in.”

“We seem to have a different idea of what good cardio is at this moment.” Tom joked. You kissed him again, before pulling away and grabbing his hand, leading him up to the master bedroom.

The next morning, you woke up with the all too familiar nauseating feeling of a hangover. Groaning, you snuggled deeper into your pillow, taking a moment to realize it was not a pillow and more of a warm, strong, bare chest. Though some details from last night were fuzzy, you definitely remembered bringing Tom home last night. The only thing currently separating you and Tom was the shirt of his you were wearing and his underwear that he was wearing. Listening to the sound of Tom’s steady heartbeat and the light rain outside, you never wanted to leave your bed.

“Good morning.” Tom said quietly. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and his hand played softly with your hair as you shifted up from his chest to look at him.

“Good morning.” You replied, a drowsy smile on your lips.

“Are you hungover?” He asked with a little laugh as you brought a hand up to rub your temples.

“If that’s your way of complimenting my morning after look, it’s a really shitty way and I don’t recommend using that on any of your other hookups.” You joked.

“First of all, your morning after look is beautiful.” Tom stated, placing his free hand on your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb, “Second of all, it was a question because I’m hungover. And lastly, who said this was a hookup? Do you want this to just be a hookup because I was going to ask you out?”

“You were going to ask me out?” You asked, a timid smile on your face and he nodded.

“I’ve been kicking myself for not doing it sooner.” He took your hand in his and pressed a small kiss to it, “So what do you say, wanna go out with me?”

“Yes,” You leaned over to kiss him. Pulling you away you both let out small laughs, “Morning breath and alcohol breath don’t mix.”

“They definitely don’t.” Tom laughed.

“Let’s get up. I’ll make breakfast.” You slid out of his embrace and the warm bed.

“Stealing my clothes already?” He asked, noticing you wore his shirt. Apparently he didn’t catch you putting it on last night, not like you really remembered that bit either.

“You’re not getting that jacket back anytime soon.” You teased.

“You can have the jacket, but I’ll need the shirt eventually. The media will already be all over me doing the walk of shame, they don’t need the added bonus of me doing shirtless.” He joked, and you ran a hand over his abs, smiling.

“Do you think anyone’s going to complain about seeing you shirtless?” You leaned up to kiss him again, before separating from him to go make breakfast. 

~~~

“He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue,” You started to play your guitar as you sang, reading over the lyrics you’d written, “Got that, oh! I mean wanna see what’s under that attitude. Like, I want you, bless my soul, I ain’t-” You paused, hearing the floorboards creaking. Tom was awake from his nap.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He said, coming into the makeshift studio.

“I gotta get this chorus worked out.” You set your guitar to the side, letting Tom come sit beside you on the couch.

“I’ve heard you go over the same five lines for an hour. You need a break.” He laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you so that the two of you were lying on the couch cuddling. It was times like these that made you really feel like you were in love with him, but it was all too soon to think like that, right? With the rain pouring down outside, it was serenely peaceful there in his arms.

“I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“It’s alright.” He kissed you reassuringly. He hummed in content, “I never want this to end.”

“What?” You pulled away from him a little. “Who said anything about ending?”

“I just thought- I mean I’m only in New York for a couple more weeks, and you’re going back to LA soon.” Tom explained. You stood up from the couch with furrowed eyebrows.

“So what, when we leave here, you were just going to walk away?” You questioned and Tom jumped up from the couch, defensively.

“No, that’s not what-”

“You said you wanted to date me? But was I just a glorified hookup? A fling? God, you were leading me on!” You accused, feeling disgusted with yourself for distracting yourself with a fling. Tom tried to step towards you but you backed up and turned away, “Just, please, go. I need some time alone.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as you spoke. You heard him sigh, but leave the room without another word, the floorboard creaking as he left. You held back your scared tears until you heard the front door open and close again. He left, just like you told him to, and yet you didn’t want him to be gone.

After a few minutes of solid crying, you decided you had to leave, too. You couldn’t spend another day on Cornelia Street. As you started to pack a few bags, your phone began to ring, and you groaned, seeing it was Zendaya. You and Tom hadn’t really told that many people, other than Z and the group from the bar- maybe that should’ve been your first sign he wanted it to be a fling. You didn’t know if he’d go to Zendaya, if he’d tell her what happened; after all, it had only been a hour since he left.

Picking up the phone, you decided to act like everything was okay, “Hey Z, what’s up?”

“Tell me you’re still at Cornelia Street.” She said as if it was urgent.

“I’m packing to leave, right now.” You told her, getting the sense that she knew about it all.

“Unpack those bags. You’re not leaving, not now.” She was using her maternal voice, which only came out when you were about to make a bad decision that she didn’t agree with.

“Z, did Tom talk to you?” You asked.

“Yes.” She replied and you sighed.

“Then you know why I have to leave.”

“No, I know why you have to stay.” She insisted, sincerity rich in her voice, “Y/N, it wasn’t just a fling to Tom. Just, hear him out.”

“What-” Before you could get your question all the way out, there was a ring at your doorbell.

“Sounds like someone’s outside. I gotta go.” Zendaya said quickly before hanging up the phone.

You already knew it was Tom on the other side of the door, given by her reaction and the fact that no one’s ever rang the doorbell since you’ve rented that townhouse. Making your way downstairs, you tentatively rested your hand on the doorknob. When you opened the door, Tom stood there nervously on the other side, hair a little wet from the rain earlier with a box of chocolates in his hand.

“Apology chocolates?” He offered with a small smile. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing, opening the door wider to let him come inside.

“Let’s go to the terrace.” You said, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs, just as you had done the first time he entered your townhouse. Once on the roof, you both sat on the patio couch, having a nice view of the New York sunset with a few rain clouds fading away.

“When I said I didn’t want this to end, I meant I didn’t want us to end because Cornelia Street ends.” Tom started, setting aside the chocolates to take your hands in his, “Because I’ll go back to London or wherever I’m filming and you’ll go back to LA or wherever you’re touring. I didn’t want us to be over when we both leave Cornelia Street. This townhouse right here is our safe haven. I’m showing my hand right now, I love you.”

“We’ll make it work long distance because I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. I love you, too.” You smiled, leaning over on the couch to kiss him. Tom shivered a little into the kiss and you were surprised by how unusually cold his lips were. “Oh my god, you’re freezing.”

“Yeah, the terrace probably wasn’t a good idea.” He laughed.

“C’mon, let’s run a bath then and get you warmed up.” You stood from the couch and grabbed his hand. He picked up the box of chocolates and followed you to the master bathroom. Once you drew the bath, Tom slid in first with the chocolates open on the ledge beside him. Just before you got in, you paused and ran back to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Tom called after you. You came into the room a moment later with your notebook and a pen.

“I have lyrics. I need to write them.” You said, tapping your forehead with the pen, before sliding into the bath with your back pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“What’s this one about?”

“Cornelia Street”.” You smiled, writing out the chorus.

‘I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends, 

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name,

And baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again…’

[thelittlefanpire]

100 days of writing // day 36-48!

thanks to @the-wip-project for putting this idea together. tagging @kinetic-elaboration @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @hopskipaway and @dylanobrienisbatman.

I meant to post this last night….Wow, the days really fly by, huh? Almost halfway through this project and I have not written a single thing!! Soooo time to switch to a totally new project! Thanks to @troped-fanfic-challenge for a brand new story idea! I’ve been working on the moodboards for this event for quite some time but I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it personally…until now!

Going to use some previous questions to guide this post!

How do you start a new story?

First Brainstorm the Prompt.

I used to want to write different Movie/TV AUs constantly and now I mostly function through trope prompts! So for this particular WIP, the prompt is a visual moodboard, and it has strong Harry Potter AU vibes. I looked through my HP folder for some ideas because I really, really want to write the Bonus Character but I don’t actually have an full-fledged HP plot ideas in my t100 arsenal. My only HP ideas are all about gritty, dark modern witch hunts with hidden magic AUs or Dramione AUs. Those did lead to an idea and then the Bonus Character led to another. I slept on it and eventually my brain started to roll a plot around.

Next make a Moodboard. See below*

Then come up with a Title. I have a running list I like to pick through and it’s usually pretty easy for me to mold my new ideas into one of them.

Write a Summary.

And BAM! New Story!!! I’ve got an opening image in my head so I need to write that down sooner rather than later.

Make a new moodboard.

Just a piece of the rework I did on the TROPED: VISUAL Round 1 Moodboard. Not shown is the other character in this pairing/dynamic and the main setting! I am a very visual person so I really love creating moodboards for my fics! This HP one has the coolest vibes. Sorta Spoilers below the cut!

What’s an an old idea that you've discarded?

I loved reading @kinetic-elaboration’s answer to this. And I totally AGREE!! I never completely discard an old idea. When I switched fandoms after a 7 year hiatus, I began converting any leftover WIPs to my new fandom.

A lot of ideas move places frequently on the writing counter. New ideas are quickly chopped up into moodboards, titles, and possible summaries. Prompt ideas with a deadline get seasoned with outlines and notes. Most pressing WIPs are put on the front burners to be cooked up and ones I don’t have interest in go on the back burners. Sometimes things get returned to the pantry? (Aye, a Chopped Metaphor, ftw!)

Back Burner WIPs:

Soulmate Wedding Dress AU

Sweet Home Alabama AU

Sea Mechanic Selkie AU

Chopped 1.0 Final Fic

Octavia Reincarnation fic

Pantry WIPs:

College AU - 6k

Band AU - 5k

Infidelity fic - 7k+

BBB19 fic - 4k

+ a few under 1-2k

All of my ideas are stored in a list in a Google Doc and the only ones I’ve actively discarded were vague TROPED ideas like, a Canon Spec Ring Fic and a Space Opera R+J Bellarke AU. One had a moodboard but I recently deleted it because I don’t actually want to write it any more. Most of my ideas I believe I’ll write in time and I would never want to get rid of them. Just in case. I’m waiting on that inspiration and motivation.

[2manyfandoms2count]

#LadynoirJuly Days 4 and 5

To avoid being too late on the prompts, I’m just going to combine some of them from now on! Hope the banter is satisfactory, I wasn’t quite sure I was doing it right... Enjoy! xxx

@ladynoirjuly2020

Read the previous entries: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3

---

Days 4 and 5: Disguises and Banter

Ladybug waited outside the hospital, comfortably swaying in her long red and black dress. She was pretty satisfied with the design; she thought she’d nailed the elaborate XVIIIth century style, complete with small train, frills, ribbons and slightly puffy sleeves. The rich damask cloth, combined with the petticoat, kept her warm in the crisp October night air. It was going to be a cold winter.

Shrill sirens echoed from nearby streets, bringing her back to the matter at hand. She tried to ignore their meaning as she checked her Miracuphone for a sign of her partner. Out of all the days he could've chosen to be late, this one was possibly the worst. The children in the hospital weren't expecting the two Paris Heroes (they'd made sure to keep their visit under wraps to surprise them), but they were definitely waiting for their Halloween treats. And she wasn't going to disappoint them on that front.

As she was about to head inside, anxious to get to her mission, Chat Noir casually walked around the corner. In the semi-darkness of the street, she thought at first that he hadn't dressed up, but then she noticed his bandana and his large black shirt, taken in at the waist by his belt, from which his baton hung like a sword. 

"'Evening, m'lady." He bowed as he approached. "Your nickname is particularly fitting tonight, may I presume I was a source of inspiration?" He quipped as he took in the majesty of her dress. As a designer's son, he could appreciate how much work must have gone into the gown, not to mention its accompanying feathered hairdo.

"Don't worry, they're not real. Wouldn’t want you to sneeze all over a bunch of kids, would we Chaton?" She smirked as she caught him looking apprehensively at her hair accessories. "Also, I like your costume, Westley, but couldn't you have gone for something a little more… original?" She asked. Not that it wasn't a good costume; she did very much like the Princess Bride and its hero. She also appreciated how handsome her partner looked with a more rugged look.

"Sorry, Bugaboo, it's been a busy week." He shrugged apologetically. "Also, I thought we were making our own costumes, sans the help of actual designers. I would've asked Marinette too, otherwise." He said pointedly, indicating the designer's embroidered logo at the bottom of the skirt. 

Ladybug swore internally, while noting how much her partner paid attention to detail. She'd absentmindedly signed her work on her sketch, and forgotten to remove the gold stitching when she made it. She'd realised it a minute before leaving, and had counted on its discretion rather than risking being late. Oh well, as long as Chat believed she'd hired Marinette…

Chat continued his rant. "Plus you have it easy, as a woman. You can just slip on a dress to cover your costume! How am I supposed to cover all this leather, even a kilt wouldn't do." He pouted.

"What about a cape?" She winked at him as she slung her arm in his, directing him towards the hospital entrance.

"But Edna said no capes!" He gasped as they walked in, enjoying their proximity and giddy at the thought that she'd initiated it, for once. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in response, the small smile tugging at her lips giving her amusement away. 

She reluctantly (because it was slightly cold in the hall, of course) let go of Chat's arm as they approached the main desk and greeted the receptionist. Although the latter tried to keep a straight face, she could tell he was torn between surprise, internal fangirling (she wondered if there was a more gender neutral term for it) and a detached attitude. 

"Good evening sir," she smiled warmly. "I believe you have something for us." She looked behind him and pointed at the large hand trolley, on which were piled Tom and Sabine cake boxes. It wasn’t necessarily very traditional for Halloween, but then again, it wasn’t a very celebrated holiday in France, and she doubted the children had access to pastries very often.

It had been weird casually striding into her parents’ bakery as Ladybug and pretending to not know very much about their products, when she knew exactly what she wanted. She’d ordered enough to cover the sugar needs of all the Paris hospitals, complete with diet restrictions, so when Sabine had told her the order was on the house, she’d almost slammed all her money in the tip jar anyway. The way her Mum had looked at her then reminded her of when she talked back sometimes, and she knew better than to open that door. She had respectfully backed down on the payment front, but had been particularly zealous in the kitchen as Marinette to compensate. Marinette had also insisted on delivering the order straight to the hospital earlier in the afternoon, despite her parents’ reservations at the idea. It was the least she could do. 

“Oh yes, of course! Let me bring it out for you.” The lad almost tripped as he stood up, but thankfully didn’t crash on the trolley. That would have been awkward. As he wheeled out the bounty, Ladybug noticed how hungry Chat’s eyes looked as he followed the movement of the food. She smiled lovingly and leaned towards his ear. 

“Don’t worry, I saved you some.” She whispered, and he shuddered in delight at the thought of Tom and Sabine’s passionfruit macarons, chouquettes and croissants. 

“You sure know how to get to a man’s heart, m’lady.”

“By getting to his stomach first?” She asked cheekily.

They were interrupted by the receptionist clearing his throat, uncomfortably wringing his hands as he waited by the lift with the goods. Ladybug jumped away from her partner and made her way towards him, Chat hot on her heels.

“Thank you so much…” She trailed, waiting for the man to give his name.

“Patrick.” He completed, grinning. Ladybug knew his name, now. 

“Thank you, Patrick.” She smiled.

The heroes took their leave and ascended to the children’s ward. When the lift doors opened, they were greeted by a group of pirates, princes, princesses, witches, wizards, and even Miraculous impersonators, little treat bags at the ready as they waited with nurses in what Ladybug assumed was the ward’s lounge. The kids gasped and cheered as they walked out.

“Trick or treat!” Chat called out, earning himself a round of giddy laughter. Giving each other an understood glance, Chat and Ladybug separated into the small crowd, each going to one side of the room.

“You look like a princess!” A little Rena Rouge fan in an arm cast squeaked as Ladybug approached her.

“Thank you, Rena! But what happened to your arm? How will we fight the Akuma without your help?” Ladybug asked with her best shocked expression.

The little girl giggled in response, which made Marinette smile. She gave her some pastries “to help her recover quickly”, and went to join Chat. Her partner was having a pretend sword fight with a pirate. He was surprisingly good with children, she noticed. And he looked great laughing as he parried an attack. Did he fence, like Adrien? Maybe she could ask him to give her lessons. Not to spend more time with him, and definitely not to see him in a fencing uniform, which she had to admit would be particularly fitting on his muscled figure. It could just… prove to be handy if they ever swapped Miraculouses again.

She felt a small tug at her skirt, originating from the hand of a ten year-old boy wearing a Ladybug costume, sitting in a wheelchair.

“Hello there, Bugaboy!” She squatted down to be at eye level with him, her skirt sprawling out in a corolla at her feet. Some children bent down to touch the elaborate fabric. “What’s your name?”

“I can’t reveal my identity, or the Guardian will take my Miraculous away.” The boy grinned as she handed him a macaron.

“And you dare tell me you don’t say it that often.” Chat leaned on the back of a nearby chair, smirking. “Well done young man, you’ve done your research.” He winked at the kid.

Ladybug shook her head, refraining from saying that he was the one preventing them from knowing who was behind the mask now. She couldn’t say it out loud, there was some press around to record their visit, and even when they did sit down and talk about their identities, it would be best if the general public was kept in the dark about that knowledge for as long as possible.

“I want to be Ladybug when I grow up.” Mini Bug said proudly. 

“You’d put me out of a job?” Ladybug said with a fake pained expression.

“Not if you don’t want to!” The boy’s eyes went wide at the thought he might have offended his favourite superhero. “I just assumed you’d want to rest in the future. It must be very tiring to battle against Hawkmoth all the time.”

“He’s got a point there, Bugaboo.” Chat acquiesced. “She won’t listen to me when I tell her she also deserves some time off.” He fake whispered in the boy’s direction.

“That’s because you always want it to be time off for you too!” She scoffed. “You’re always inviting me for ice creams or movie dates at the same time, how am I to relax knowing nobody competent is watching over the city?”

Chat’s heart sung at the compliment. “If that’s the only thing keeping you from going out with me, I’m sure I can find a solution, m’lady. You know, Rena and Carapace would certainly do a grand job.” He tried to keep a detached demeanor, but knowing he was so close to her accepting to go on a date with him was making his heart go haywire. 

She pouted pensively, twirling a strand of hair that had fallen out of her hairdo, then shrugged. “As you wish, farmboy.” 

Her heart skipped a beat as she waited for his answer. It felt like time had slowed. Was this too soon? “Kelly” had only been out of the picture for about a month now. Was it enough time to get over someone?

A stolen glance at him answered her question. Looking at him, she could tell Chat was repressing a smile. His eyes twinkled as he looked at her like protagonists look at each other in romantic comedies. The way everyone should be looked at at least once in their life. He gave a nod in the direction of the room, reminding her they were not alone. She nodded back, their brief exchange imperceptible for common mortals.

If the warm hug and lingering kiss he left on her cheek as they parted after remaining a little longer with the kids were any indication, she knew she’d said the right thing. Although it could have also been credited to the bag of pastries she’d handed him a minute before.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Sanders Side - Pep Talk With Roman

Inspired by Thomas’ TikTok that I CAN’T STOP WATCHING. Seriously, someone help me please those transitions are perfect.

Also, this absolutely doesn’t take place after the newest episode, so consider it akin to an Aside.

Word Count: 958

-

Thomas’ day wasn’t going so well, not that he was surprised by this revelation. He had forgotten he had turned off notifications on his phone while in a group call the previous night, so his alarm never went off. Because of that, his entire morning felt like a disjointed mess, including putting his milk in the microwave and nearly turning it on. A late-morning brainstorm call yielded nothing useful and descended into idle chatter about movies. Once that ended, a dejected Thomas slumped into the bathroom and rummaged in the drawers for a comb.

“Well, you’re looking rather glum today.”

Thomas - whose face was nearly entirely in one of the drawers - pulled his head back with a little confusion.

“Ah, perfect. I’m hearing things.” 

“I - I mean, yeah, in a way. But… Yoo-hoo!” Roman gave a well-rehearsed royal wave once Thomas looked up at the mirror, only for the act to drop the moment Thomas gave a panicked yelp and fell back. “Oh! I am so sorry! I thought you knew we could do this from before.”

“That was - whatever. What are you doing? And how can I hear you if you’re in my mirror?” Rubbing the back of his head, Thomas pulled himself onto his feet and gave Roman a wary look.

“Obviously you can hear me. I am in your head. This is a form of artistic liberty!” The trademark pose accompanied this bold statement. “Plus, unlike in your living room, only one of us can appear at a time. It’s the only way I can say something without anyone else getting a word in to rain on my parade.”

“But… I don’t have any pressing issues. Unless you count a bad day.” Without a reflection, Thomas had to try and guess where he needed to comb his hair to try and tame it. It was a rather jarring situation if he thought about it too much.

“Of course I count that! I wanted to give you a little pep talk before you get to work for the afternoon. Shirley Temple knows you need some sorta push to get you through the afternoon.” Thomas’ confused expression prompted Roman to elaborate. “Well, Logan is pretty keen on you keeping this new schedule that he’s confident is working for you, and Patton wants you to do your best. Virgil… I guess he wants the same for you too. But how can you do any of that when it feels like you’re fighting a dragon armed with only a spatula and a pot lid? I can hardly say that’s something that will help bat the blues away.” One hand rested on the prince’s hip as he finished. The energy from before was gone, instead replaced with something a little more sombre.

“Yeah, but… What do I do about it? Didn’t we have this conversation before?”

“We did. Myself and Logan’s argument helped spur you on. But this isn’t the same. This is closer to you sitting on a sled at the top of a snowy hill. You’ll make great progress once you get going, but you need that little push to get you going.” Roman mimed lightly pushing something in front of him. His gaze then turned to Thomas’ with a grin. The strange thing about them being so close was that Thomas would swear he had never seen passion literally manifest in someone’s eyes. “I know I can do that for you because we all know you can do it. A bad morning doesn’t mean the day is ruined, especially when you yourself aren’t in a foul mood.” One arm crossed Roman’s chest so the hand could serve as a resting point for the other elbow. His free hand was able to gesture to Thomas.

“Thomas. You are a fantastic fountain of unlimited potential and untapped creativity. Neither of those statements mean you have to be in a constant state of creating and making. But if I know you as well as I think I do - and I think I do~ - I believe we can both agree that you will be able to do something you’ll be proud of today.” Pep talking was hard. No wonder the Sides normally worked together for this. “The day is young, the hours are plenty, and I think it’s high time you stick on that Disney Playlist while you make some lunch! That ought to give you the push you need.” His hand rocked a fraction in Thomas’ direction as he fell silent with a look of high expectations.

“Your solution is for me to sing Disney?”

“When do Disney Songs ever make a problem worse?”

“... You got me there,” Thomas shrugged. Even if Roman wasn’t the best at giving a pep talk, there was no denying that the energy was infectious. “If I agree to put on the playlist, will you move so I can see what I’m doing?”

“With that attitude?” Roman crossed his arms with a smug expression and a raised eyebrow. Thomas rolled his eyes at the immaturity.

“Can you please move?” That did the trick, as Roman nodded in agreement. “Good. Now shoo before I throw a comb at you.” Unfortunately for Thomas, he gave the light threat while waving the comb in his left hand.

“Alright, I’ll go. But first: Let’s Get Down To Business!”

“To Defeat! The - Hey!” With Thomas distracted, Roman was able to use his control over Thomas’ left arm to send the comb flying in the air. By the time Thomas scrambled after it and returned to the mirror, the prince was gone. He chuckled softly to himself, humming the melody as he combed his hair back into place.

Already he felt like his day was going to get better from here.

[humbae]

A fanfic for you!!

Below the cut, a submission from a wonderful person. Ylvis fanfiction of the Vegard whump variety, I most definitely recommend reading it for all those interested in the subject.

Hey hey! I only now discovered your AO3 stories and enjoyed them so much! It actually inspired me to write one of my own based on the events from this summer. You don’t have to post this, I was just interested to hear your opinion on my first fanfic ever :). Thanks a lot for your wonderful work! He would have never believed that a simple single kick could hurt so much. But he did not regret the idea - after all, it was a lot of fun, and the pain would eventually go away and make a nice memory. He limped to work, curious to see how Vegard and Calle were handling their own ordeals. When he opened the door to the office he and Vegard shared however, he was surprised to find it empty.

It was odd; Vegard was almost never late, and even when he was late, he would still arrive earlier than Baard. Baard just put it down to him probably oversleeping for once or having a slow morning after an intense day at work yesterday. That’s how life gets after 40, he thought to himself, smirked and got to work.

He didn’t have to wonder about Vegard’s whereabouts for too long. Five minutes later, his phone beeped and he saw a message in which Vegard informed him that he will be most likely working from home today. 

“That won’t be possible.”, Baard replied. “The guy who is supposed to accompany the show with the accordion just told me that he will be showing up today instead of tomorrow so that we go over the music together, he had some changes in his schedule. He is coming at 14.00.”.

“Do I have to be there for that? Cannot we just arrange it through Skype?”, Vegard replied.

Baard was taken aback. This was not a reaction he would ever expect from Vegard when music, and especially accordion (which they both liked so much), were involved.

“Don’t be a lazyass, just come to the office. What’s up? Why can’t you come?”

There was no response for a couple of minutes, and Baard was just at the verge of calling Vegard, when he saw that Vegard replied with “On my way.”.

An hour later, when Vegard showed up, it became very obvious to Baard why Vegard wanted to stay at home. He did see his brother walking very funnily yesterday - funnily enough for him to put it on Instagram - but this was a whole different level. He had his scooter with him, but only to act as a crutch instead of using it as an actual scooter. He was not putting any weight on his leg.

“Why didn’t you drive if it hurts to walk, you idiot?”, Baard greeted.

“Nice to see you too… I just don’t trust my leg to work with the pedals in a state like this, that is all.”, Vegard said still with some agony and irritation in his face.

“But does it really hurt so much? I mean, my leg is also fairly painful, but I hope I look nowhere this pathetic.”

“Thank you, trust me, if I could choose, I would indeed opt for looking less pathetic.”, Vegard replied and rolled his eyes. Baard decided not to respond and just made a mental note to drive Vegard home at the end of the day; Vegard was obviously not in a mood for being teased right now, and it was Baard’s fault after all that they were all in this state now. 

Things went a bit better after they started working. This was most likely because Vegard could just sit in his chair, so his mood improved significantly as he was without the added pain of walking. 

The lunch-time was approaching, which the four of them usually spent together eating outside, in front of the building to enjoy the warm summer weather.

“Hungry yet?” Baard suggested after his belly started making noises.

“No, not really, I think I will skip lunch today.”

Baard raised his eyebrows; this was nothing like his brother. It would be usually his brother making the lunch suggestion first.

“You mind elaborating on why?”

“Do I have to? You will call me a whiny little bitch if I do." 

"I will call you that anyway. So what is up?”

Vegard sighted. “It is just that the prospect of staying hungry looks far more appealing than the prospect of having to walk outside or even to the fridge, that’s all.”

Only then Baard understood how bad Vegard’s leg must have hurt. 

“We can also have it in the shared office space today. The weather is not that nice anyway.”

“Don’t restrict yourself, I am sure you would prefer to have it outside.”, Vegard insisted.

“I will ask Calle, but both he and myself are also still limping, so I am sure both Magnus and Calle will agree to stay here. And I will get you your lunch from the fridge and bring it. Just get your lazy sorry ass over there in the meantime." 

A couple of moments later, they all gathered in the shared space to have lunch. Both Calle and Baard appreciated making the decision to stay inside as they were both limping towards their chairs; Vegard just rolled there directly on the chair from his office that he was already sitting on. 

Baard and Calle spent the lunch discussing the consequences of the kicks they both received and laughing at the other related events from the previous day. Magnus was just mostly listening, happy that he did not have to go through the ordeal himself, and laughing loudly with them. 

The only silent member of the lunch party was Vegard. This was very unusual, he was typically the one who talked the most. Normally, him being a bit silent for once would be a welcome, refreshing change to the other three, but combined with the misery and paleness written all over his face, it was clear that this was not a good sign. To try to involve him a bit and raise his spirits, Calle started what the three of them called an "aircraft chat mood fixing technique” - a strategy they used anytime they needed to improve Vegard’s mood and get some excitement out of him. Calle even started spitting clearly incorrect aircraft facts just to prompt Vegard to correct him and force some engagement, but nothing was successful.

“You look like shit, Vegard.”, Baard said finally.

“If you want me to look less like shit, don’t invite MMA fighters to kick us on the TV.”, Vegard replied, but there was no humour in his voice. 

Then he sighted and continued. “I just don’t know why it seems to be hurting me so much more than the two of you.” Ah, that’s it, Baard thought; that’s the reason, next to the pain obviously, why Vegad is so upset. Over the years they have worked together on TV, Vegard seemed to have learnt to deal with most of the derogatory comments he had been receiving very well, whether it was about him being clumsy, short, fat, nerdy or looking Turkish, but to this day, he still hated to be seen as weak and helpless.

“It did seem like he kicked you the hardest.”, Calle admitted.

“Which is what I especially don’t understand, since you -” Magnus continued, but Baard interrupted him right away with an intense look directed his way.

“It does not matter now anyway. Let’s get back to work.”. Baard knew that the last thing Vegard now needed to hear were comments about his size, implying that he indeed was weak and helpless. They left the table and went (and rolled) back to their offices.

The rest of the afternoon flew quickly. The musician arrived, and, fortunately, the sound of the accordion and making of music at least helped improve Vegard’s spirits sufficiently to make the afternoon more bearable for everyone involved. 

Right after the musician was gone, Vegard announced that he was going home. Baard turned, and right away, without a word, he stood up, took his coat and his car keys and indicated that he was ready, too.

It took a moment for Vegard to realise that Baard was intending to take him home by car. A wave of relief hit him that he did not even have to ask for such a favour from his little brother in front of everyone else. He just let out a silent “thanks” to which Baard replied with a simple head nod and a smile. 

The relief quickly disappeared when he realised he first had to make it all the way down to where Baard’s car was parked. He felt nauseous at the thought of having to put any weight on his leg again, and as a result turned even paler than he already was. But there was no way he was going to ask Baard or any from his friends for support really, the most of them were also still limping and Magnus would literally have to carry him in his arms if he were to help him - he was too tall for Vegard to put his arm around his neck for support.

Calle and Magnus both noticed Vegard’s unease and after telling the brothers to wait a few minutes, they emerged from the storage room with the wheelchair they used back during IKMY for their guest pranks. Vegard thought that a wheelchair was definitely a bit of an overkill, but in his current condition, even being carried on a stretcher would be more appealing than walking. In addition, since the wheelchair was well known around the building from the pranks, at least other people would not know that something was wrong and could only assume that the brothers were testing it again for another prank. They thanked Magnus and Calle and left.

The ride home was mostly silent. Baard felt a bit guilty for being responsible for a segment which ended up with his brother in such a state, and Vegard still felt a bit ashamed for being so heavily affected by something that the others could deal with so much easier. 

“You know that we do have a couple of meetings which we have to attend in person this week, right?” Baard said as they approached Vegard’s house.

Vegard just managed to let out a little “Hnngh”, hoping to put an end to that conversation for now, but Baard would not let go. “If the pain continues to be this bad, maybe you should go see a doctor?”. Vegard hated doctors, but having Baard actually talking to him about something this seriously, without any teasing or mockery, meant that he must have been even a little worried, and so Vegard was not going to dismiss it completely. “If it does not get better, yes… but I am sure it soon will.”.

…

It didn’t. When the follow-up messages of “Working from home today, sorry” arrived to Baard’s phone during the next two consecutive mornings, Baard knew Vegard would not go to the doctor without additional persuasion. He was getting truly concerned - the pain in his own leg was almost gone now, and the same for Calle, so if Vegard’s leg was still hurting as much that he could not walk, something was obviously very wrong. Maybe if he mentioned how it could potentially affect the show, his brother would be more reasonable? He called Vegard.

“We cannot delay the show because of your stupid leg. Go see a doctor. You have to be here tomorrow morning anyway for the meeting.”, Baard said.

“Then I still have time until tomorrow morning for it to get better.”, Vegard insisted.

“It will obviously not, don’t be stupid. Go to the doctor today.”

“Well, ok, I would, but Helene is gone with the kids, so she cannot take me today. Maybe the day after tomorrow then or next week?”

Baard was having none of this.

“If Helene is gone, then I am the one taking you to the doctor. Make an appointment and tell me when to pick you up. Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me well. Find a doctor and make an appointment NOW, or I will do even that for you." 

Vegard remained silent for a moment. He has never seen Baard behaving like this; this was always Vegard’s behaviour towards his little brothers instead.

"Is that silence a ‘no’ Vegard? Should I call my physio and ask him if he can make an appointment for my stubborn 40-year-old brother?" 

"No, no, ok, I will find someone." 

Baard was pleased with himself and made a mental note to do this more often. While it was not really something he would ever expect himself to do back to Vegard, it was a surprisingly effective persuasion method. In half an hour, Vegard messaged him to ask him to pick him up with a specific time and destination of the doctor’s office.

When Baard came to Vegard’s house, he was alarmed to find his brother looking equally as pale and miserable as he did the two days before that. He helped him jump on one leg to the car and felt bad for having to rush him to make it to the doctor on time. 

Only five minutes after coming to the waiting room, a physiotherapist appeared and called Vegard’s name. Vegard stood up onto his one working leg and started heading into the direction of the office. Baard felt a bit awkward; unsure as whether to follow or not. On one hand, going to the doctor’s office with your 40 year old brother together would seem crazy to most people; they were both grown up, independent adults. On the other, he was genuinely curious about the state of his brother’s leg and seeing how out of it Vegard was, he thought it would be a good idea for Vegard to have someone there who could actually be clear-headed and write things down. 

Having decided that he would join, he took the opportunity that Vegard clearly struggled to get to the office, so he stood up and allowed Vegard to use him as a support. 

"So, what did you do?”, The doctor asked while filling out the paperwork. 

“I think that might be pretty hard to explain… ” Vegard started, but the doctor interrupted him right away.

“Mr. Ylvisaaker, I know who you are and what you do. I have no expectations regarding what I am going to hear now.”

The brothers laughed. Baard, being responsible for what happened, spared his brother the duty of explaining, and described their little vegetable stunt. After the doctor stopped laughing, he instructed Vegard to lie down and remove his clothing. 

When Vegard put his pants down to show the physiotherapist the injury, Baard couldn’t believe what he saw. A dark, red area spread across the entire back-side of Vegard’s thigh. He himself wondered whether he had something similar on his own thigh after the kick; he has not really checked. He started to really question whether the stunt was worth it.

The doctor showed them the ultrasound pictures of the hematoma and prescribed Vegard crutches until further notice to aid healing. Vegard initially protested, but Baard knew that the protest was just a formality for Vegard to feel like he was acting manly, as Vegard knew very well that the crutches were necessary at this point. Only one question remained unanswered.

“How long…?” Baard asked.

“These hematomas are quite tricky. We can only accelerate the healing process by preventing additional strain and injury - which is why you have to use the crutches - but otherwise it is very individual. A hematoma of this size can take months to heal.”

They all remained silent for the moment. Vegard knew what it meant; it meant that the vacation Helene and the kids looked so much forward to would have to be cancelled. It also meant that a lot of the segments they were planning to film to make the show a bit more interesting would not happen. Filming action scenes with one man limping on crutches while he should be resting his leg was not an option, and would probably not be received well by the public. This entire show was already organized on the very last minute, and now it looked like even more would have to be figured out on the spot with so many ideas, some of which were already half-baked, discarded. 

Baard was thinking the same. But this time, he was the one in the role of the big brother and seeing how troubled Vegard looked over the entire prognosis, he returned him the little favour that Vegard always did for him - Baard looked at his older brother, smiled reassuringly and said, “that’s fine”.

They thanked the doctor, picked up the crutches from a pharmacy along with some creams and pain killers and went back to the car. They just sat there and allowed the news to sink in, including the consequences they were now going to face. Baard was the first one who started.

“You know… had I known that this would happen…”, Baard said, before Vegard interrupted him to tell him that he understands and is not angry about it. 

They drove back to Vegard’s place. Staring at the house, after a moment, Vegard looked at his brother with anxiety in his eyes. Neither of them talked, and yet an entire conversation seemed to have taken place. Baard just verbally concluded it with “Yes, I will talk to her. Though if I do, maybe I will end up in a worse condition than you are right now.”, Baard smiled and so did Vegard.

*****

End of submission.

Dearest anon, this was the most amazing surprise, thank you so much! And of course I posted this, everyone should have the chance to read this lovely fic. Because yes, I liked it a lot! It was very well written, had a good pace, lots of emotions, logical progression, believable dialogue, a little bit of humour, and a whole bucketful of brofeels. Absolutely loved it! And it definitely hit the spot for me, this is exactly what I was thinking about when I heard of the kicking and its consequences, so thank you for making a story out of it. Also, I’m very flattered that my scribblings could inspire you, thank you very much for the kind words. You should definitely write more if the urge strikes you, this was highly enjoyable :)

[yoonia]

Hello!! I’ve been reading your fics for quite some time now and i love them! I want to start writing myself as well but i can only write certain parts for now. Can you give any advice on it? How to make the thoughts a story? What do you do for it? Yoir writing process? Thanks alot!! I hope im not asking for too much bb 😔

Hi there, thank you for following my blog and my stories. It’s really good to know that you are writing as well. First of all, let me tell you that every writer may have different techniques in writing, so the way I write and all the steps I go through may not be the same to others. You might find your own writing process which will be more comfortable for you to use as you continue writing and finding your own pace in writing.

For me personally, this is the process I go through as I write:

Step 1. write down a rough synopsis. This is not going to be the fic’s summary, but a quick outlook of what I want to write and the rough idea that I want to build up in the story I’m writing. This step consists of jotting down the main story prompt, the characters in the story (names, their personalities, pairings, their roles in the story), and the setting (place and time). So basically, this is where my thoughts and inspiration is slowly forming into the core of a story. 

Step 2. build an outline. The outline I create usually comes in the form of bullet-pointed sequences of scenes. Roughly, I write down things starting from (1) how the scene starts, (2) how the scene builds up to climax, (3) how the scene builds up to the end, and then (4) the ending. I use Scrivener as my writing program, and the outline I create appears like notes posted on a corkboard. This is how it looks like (I am showing you the one I made for Carousel P.13)

Step 3. Fill in the sequences with first draft writing. This is the barest of all steps. I usually fill in the outline either with rough sentences that will start a paragraph or just random dialogues that I imagine will happen between the characters that may form a whole scene. They usually look as raw as possible at this part. For example, I start by filling the outline with a rough part of a scene which I can elaborate later, that looks like this: [Namjoon comes into Yoongi’s office just in time he is leaving. Yoongi passes the news to OC], or, a few rough dialogues and what I imagine will happen in between, like this: “Do you need any help with that?” [Namjoon comes in to take over] “Didn’t I say that you can ask me anything if you need any help?”

Step 4. Second draft writing. This is a more elaborate part of my writing process, where I fill in between those rough scenes and between dialogues with details that will help the scene comes to life, by adding descriptions on their movements, characters’ reactions/expressions, portrayal/description of the setting, more dialogues, and portrayal of their emotions as they go through the scene. 

Step 5. Final draft writing + Final edit. I usually take a break after [step 4] before getting into this one, because I can go back and forth on the previous step until I feel enough. So at this point, the moment I get into this step, I might feel terribly stuck. And bored. I will come back to this one only once my mind is refreshed enough to focus better. That way, I can easily find anything I might have missed, any typos, any plotholes, or even perhaps a mistake in the characters’ POV (I have a few fics where I switch characters’ POVs in the middle so this happens a lot). It’s always a good idea to find a beta reader who could help with the final proofreading process because the second pair of eyes could find things that you are not seeing. I used to have a few beta readers in the past, but lately, I just do the proofreading myself or just past it on to my roommate to make it easier for me to go back and forth so the process can go faster and more fluidly. You can also download Grammarly and install it on your computer for help in finding typos and mistakes in phrases. 

Basically, these are the process I go through when I write. Feel free to follow through if you feel like it can help you, or just choose whichever steps you might be comfortable with to follow and eliminate the ones that may give you too much trouble. 

For more writing tips, you can find them on this blog by tracking my tag (#writing tips or #misc: tips & tricks) or visit my side blog where I compile various tips from many writing blogs here: https://dia-writes.tumblr.com/ where I have compiled every single help post with tips on how to start writing, tips in making outlines, building plots, etc. I really hope this helps and I wish you good luck with your writing! :)

[mamaskillerqueen]

Beautiful Crazy || Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hi! So my brother played this song for his wife the other day at a party we had and I immediately fell in love with it. The song is called Beautiful Crazy by Luke Combs (I think... I’m not a big country fan so I may have that artist wrong) Anyways, I was inspired so here is this thing. Warnings: I don’t think anything... Word Count: 2097

Her day starts with a coffee

The first thing he saw as his eyes peeled open was her smile. She leaned over him, pressing kisses into his cheek, jaw, and neck. Her attempt to wake him was successful and the winning smile could have nearly melted his heart. One day he would figure out how he got so lucky.

“Good morning, love.”

His voice was raspy and thick with sleep, making her giggle before leaning in to place another kiss to his lips quickly.

“Good morning. I’ve already made coffee. Come have breakfast with me.”

He could never turn her down to their morning dates. She couldn’t head off to work without them.

And ends with wine

The door swung open with a sigh, Ben could even hear it from the kitchen where he was making them dinner. Stepping away from the stove he pulled her favourite wine glass from the cabinet and the bottle of white they just opened the night prior.

He had just gotten home from filming and they decided to celebrate with a bottle he brought home from France. She had practically moaned as the flavour spilled over her tongue. The memory brought a smile to his lips even before her arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Her cheek rested on his shoulder and a huff of air she blew out could be felt through his shirt. She had a long day, he didn’t need to be told to figure that out. With the hand that wasn’t busy preparing their dinner, he grabbed hers and unlocked them so he could pull her around to face him.

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

He was quick to lean in and kiss her lips. It had been far too long since he’d seen her this morning. After being away for so long, finally getting to come home to her, just for her to leave most of the day wasn’t ideal.

“I got the wine out, and your glass.”

Her eyes lit up and that beautiful smile turned her lips up. His heart still raced every time she flashed that at him. If he was honest, he hoped it never stopped. Turning his attention back to dinner, he watched from the corner of his eye while she poured a generous amount in her glass.

She took a small sip and let out a contented moan at the taste, he assumed. Probably finally being able to sit down as well. When he cooked she always perched herself up on the counter beside him, watching what he was doing. When they first started dating she couldn’t cook a thing and so he taught her. It still seemed to fascinate her that he was as good in the kitchen as he was.

“You. Me. Bubble bath after dinner.”

She announced it as soon as they sat down at the dinner table and he couldn’t help but chuckle while nodding in agreement. He would do anything she asked.

She takes forever getting ready so she’s never on time for anything

“We have to go now, Y/N..”

The woman in question was still in their shared closet trying to decide what to wear. Her hair and make up had been done to perfection almost an hour and a half ago. He had told her to pick something last night, knowing full well they would be late if she didn’t.

“I’m almost ready!”

She called back, her voice muffled from hopefully getting dressed. He huffed a sigh as he took a seat on their bed and checked the time on his phone for the millionth time. They were supposed to be at the restaurant right now. Even if they left this very second it would take another twenty minutes to drive there.

“Y/N!! If you don’t pick something right now I’m picking it for you!”

Just as he was finishing his sentence she stepped out of the closet while adjusting the straps to her red dress. She looked stunning and his previous annoyance was forgotten for a moment. He rose from the bed and took the two strides towards her. Placing his hands on her hips he leaned down to her ear and whispered about how amazing she looked.

A giggle left her lips and she reached up to carefully place a kiss on his jaw before wiping off the red lip stick that was left behind.

“We have to go, remember?”

And he did, so he grabbed her hand and rushed them out the door. The guys were gonna be so mad that they were late for this dinner.

Beautiful, crazy, she can’t help but amaze me The way that she dances, ain’t afraid to take chances

The dinner had gone well, and he was pleasantly surprised to see his old cast mates turned friends didn’t care at all that they arrived late. Laughs were shared, good news spread as they all discussed the new roles coming their way. Throughout the entire dinner, her hand never left his. Even as they ate. Joe made sure to tease them for that.

Perhaps one of the most incredible things about his girlfriend was her ability to take a joke and deliver one right back. Her witty comebacks at Joe had him turning up his teasing to ‘maximum effort’. Ben was continuously amazed at her speedy replies and her subsequent laugh.

Standing outside of the restaurant they all decided they weren’t ready for the night to be over. The chilly air was raising goosebumps on Y/N’s arms though, so he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her. They got left behind a bit as the others continued towards the club Lucy was adamant about them going to dance at. Unable to stop himself he gave her a chaste kiss before they both rushed off to catch up, laughing the whole way.

He was stood at the bar, watching as she and Lucy danced all over the dance floor. It was a week night, summer reluctantly coming to a close so the club was rather empty. Neither of them had a care in the world. Again, he was struck by how lucky he was and how absolutely incredible the woman he called his girlfriend was.

And wears her heart on her sleeve

The evening had been filled with a lot of drinking and so he knew the morning was going to be a rough one. What he didn’t expect was to be woken up by the sound of the blender at 8:00 in the morning. With a groan he got out of bed, shuddering a bit as his feet hit the cold wooden floor before padding out to the kitchen.

Her face was set in stone and he could see that she’d been crying. To say he was confused would be an understatement. She was never one to hide her feelings. If they were hurt, she let you know. He actually quite admired that about her. Vulnerability was not his strong suit.

“Y/N...?” he asked but was met with silence. “Love?”

She still didn’t say a word and so he came up behind her, placing one hand on her hip to pull her into his chest and the other reached out to turn off the blender. When there wasn’t any protest he turned her around so she was facing him. Her gaze remained in his chest until he used a finger to lift her chin.

“What is it, love?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, still trying to avoid his gaze. He wracked his brain in an attempt to remember if he’d done something wrong last night. Coming up with nothing he sighed.

“I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing to fix.”

Her tone was cold and clipped. Whatever happened wasn’t good. In the years that they’d been together he had never once heard her this upset, and she wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable woman he’d ever met.

“Y/N...”

“I answered your phone call this morning...”

She finally caved with a heavy sigh, making him crinkle his brow. He didn’t remember hearing the phone ring. Not to mention, who would call him at 8 in the morning? She must have noticed his confusion because she began to elaborate without prompting.

“It was an number you didn’t have saved and so I thought it might be important. They woke me up at the crack of dawn so it must be important. Instead it was some woman who immediately asked who she was speaking to and where you were and when I said I was your girlfriend they hung up.”

Throughout her recollection of the call she grew more upset, tears filling at the brim. His heart ached in his chest knowing where her mind had gone. He knew she trusted him, and he knew that if he’d answered her phone first thing in the morning to another man he’d be upset too. Carefully taking her face in his hands he swiped at the lone tear trekking down her cheek.

“Love, I have no idea who that could have been but I promise you, you are it for me.”

His words didn’t seem to stick because she tilted her head down and stepped away from him. He felt his world shattering. She disappeared into their bedroom but only for a moment. When she returned his phone was in her hand.

“Do you recognise the number?”

He did.

He was sure the colour drained from his face. The conversation made sense now. The woman hung up because she was the jeweller he’d been in touch with for the last few months. She was the woman designing Y/N’s engagement ring, and she must have panicked when she figured out who she had been speaking to.

“So you do recognise it then.”

It was a question. He could practically hear the heart break in her voice.

“It’s not what you think... you have to believe me, love.”

When she scoffed he knew he had to ruin the surprise.

“Call it. Put it on speaker phone. I promise you, it’s not what you think, Y/N.”

When the woman answered the phone, stating who she was and where she worked he watched the love of his life lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly hung up the phone, guilt over taking her features.

“I am so sorry, Ben... I overreacted. I-I... oh my god.”

She had turned around so she wasn’t facing him, hiding her face in her hands. The embarrassment was clear in the way she stood but last night he realised he was tired of waiting. Tired of calling her his girlfriend. She felt like so much more than that.

“Y/N... turn around please.”

He had dropped to one knee behind her and when she turned and saw him her hands moved again to her face, this time covering her mouth. He could have sworn he heard a little gasp of ‘oh my god’.

“Y/N... you’re absolutely crazy. Some may even say insane. Honestly, who wakes up first thing in the morning with a smile.. unless they’re a deranged killer.”

The sound of her laughter made his heart swell. The tears on her eyes encouraging him to keep going.

“And yet, you’re the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You’ve made me a better man just by being the wonderful woman you are. You’re constantly amazing me. You’re unpredictable, and unforgettable. I never want to live a life where I don’t get to come home to you.”

She had dropped to her knees in front of him and he couldn’t help but reach out for her. His hands reached up to remove hers from her face. There was never a time where he would be okay with her hiding it from him. Especially in this moment.

“I don’t have the ring yet.. I had a huge luxurious night out planned. This feels more like us though.”

He smiled when she nodded in agreement, seemingly still too shocked to say actual words. His heart was racing in his chest, while every bad thought rushed through his head. Like her saying no. But she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t. Why was he so nervous now?

“Y/N... will you please do me the honour of making me the happiest man on this planet and agree to marry me?”

His answer came in the form of a kiss... that quickly lead to a passionate love making session on their kitchen floor.

Yeah, she’s crazy, but her crazy is beautiful to me

[comicteaparty]

June 8th-June 14th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from June 8th, 2020 to June 14th, 2020.  The chat focused on Devil Tongue by Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Devil Tongue by Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto~! (https://deviltonguecomic.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until June 14th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

1. I really appreciated how this comic felt really authentically shonen manga right off the bat without feeling tropey or overwrought. 2. I liked when the protagonists confront the ghost in the theater. I just really enjoyed the ghosts dialogue and dramatic jestures. 3. Moira is my fav so far. She's got a sword and seems capable, though is also still an apprentice so I'm looking forward to seeing how she grows.

boogeymadam

1, ALL THE CATS!! :D but more seriously, the way the characters are introduced through their job, and yet their personalities still shine through~ 2, i liked the scene when they're leaving the Lemaire house and walking on a dark misty neighborhood street at night. It's so atmospheric and perfect for their discussion on what kind of ghost their target might be, as well as what kinda threats it may pose :0 3, I can't decide, they're all interesting. Leera was introduced last but I like her enthusiasm! 2, Moira and Leera during the scene where Moira is explaining tinctures to Leera. Moira's so goal oriented and focused while messing with some apprently-very-dangerous stuff and Leera's just trying to avoid boredom. Moira seemed patient of Leera (for the most part) and willing to explain stuff, which was cool. It made me smile. 5, Oh Man, a lot!! The lines are so very clean and precise, every characters' silhouttes is distinct. It's hard to pick which page is my favorite, but I'd have to say https://deviltonguecomic.com/comic/chapter-01-page-32/ because of all the dynamic angles and expressions on the characters. 6, Pupils taking over from the mentor. I like how Emery is allowing his pupil, Moira, to prove herself, and she seems extremely eager to do so and also: good at it! I can only imagine what Emery is like at this job :0 8, A fun and classic premise of paranormal investigators, of a sort, but with magic of their own, making it even more interesting. It's easy to root for the protagonists and feel curious about what got them into this business, or what they were like before they reached this level of fame and skill. And also, there are talking cats!! Huge draw!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I agree with your #6 Boogey. I do really like how Emery is like "I'm just here to mentor, this is Moira's job." I like seeing the apprentice really get to take point on the mission. I did see though on the cast page that Emery's magic type is just "?????" which definitely makes me what to see him throw down some magic now XD very curious what it is

boogeymadam

OHHH i hadn't spotted that! a secret, how exciting :0c

copperine (Lady Changeling)

I'm not familiar with this one, but I'm intrigued now (and should stop reading this channel till I've read the comic...)

I'll read in the morning and try to give some thoughts

RebelVampire

What I like about the beginning is the character development. Cause we get a lot of it and find out things like Emery being an ex-magician, his relationship with Moira, etc. Yet, at the same time, the plot is not sacrificed and the story is still moved along smoothly, which is a great balancing act. My favorite moment in the comic so far is actually all the times Emery feigns that he doesn't care but then we get those shots of him peeking and spying. I find those adorable but just also really nice character moments. My favorite character at the moment is Emery. I like aloof characters and he fits that bill. I also like his general cynicism about life. Emery is the sort of character who I'd have as a friend in real life. XD As for characters interacting the most, probably Leera and a combo of Emery and Moira. Leera has pretty different motivations for being there, is somewhat opposite in personality from the main pair, and just all around adds an interesting dynamic too the group that kind of makes certain elements of the story seem more grounded. I really just in general love the comic's linework. Not only is everything super clean (making the action easy to follow), but it really knows how to bulk up the shadows to create specific atmospheres that really work for each panel and add so much to each scene.

In terms of themes, I like that the comic somewhat explores with Emery the concept of what to do with your life after your previous life fails. I think we all kind of like to believe we'll do X forever and X comes to define us in a lot of ways. But then suddenly X might not be there and it's like, what is life now? How do I deal with life? And with Emery, I do think we get to kind of experience one path that kind of takes. What I like about the comic's overall content is the...strange mix of fantasy and realism. I can't really put it into words. Like this is definitely a fantasy story, yet there's elements of realism thrown in I wouldn't expect. Like things are almost scarily normal in some respects like the houses or journalism, etc. So everything about the world really intrigues me since it feels super unique in tone. Finally, for strengths, I'm referring back to the art here. I think the atmosphere the art adds to each scene really helps give the comic that extra oomph.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Everyone's covered all the stuff I like about the characters, so let me just throw in some extra praise for the backgrounds. Those elaborate buildings! That towering opera-house interior! That one sequence with light streaming through elegantly-patterned windows!

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. What do you think Emery did that caused him to be exiled by the Magician Order? How does this factor into his general cynicism and bitterness? Also, do you think Emery will ever be a magician again?

10. How do you think Moira became Emery’s apprentice despite Emery being an ex-magician? Similarly, why do you think Moira hasn’t joined up with the Magician Order? As the story develops, how do you think Moira will grow and change as a magician?

11. Besides following Emery and Moira around, what role do you think Leera will have in the story? How might Leera’s presence hurt or help the duo on each case? Also, how will Leera change as she experiences things firsthand?

12. How do you think Moira and Emery will resolve the haunted opera house situation? Can the kidnapped girl be saved, or is she truly gone forever? Additionally, what other sorts of cases do you expect to see after this one?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

Honestly, I get the impression that Emery was good but also just a rebellious rule breaker type. So he probably got exiled for just not fitting in with the club regardless of anything else he might have done. Which to me would explain the cynicism cause it would show him how much of life is just a popularity contest. As for being a magician again, maybe, but the bigger question is would he want to? My current theory for Moira was that she's just ill-suited to the order. I'm sure she's heard awful things about it from Emery, so why join team lame when you can join Emery and be on team winner. As for how Moira will grow, I think she'll just learn to take things a bit more seriously and mature (though probably still pretty happy and excited). I've talked about Leera a bit already, but I think her major role in the story is the grounding element and reader's eyes. Cause someone needs to ask questions for the readers, and I think that will be Leera. But in terms of plot, I also think Leera will just help them get more work by spreading their name to lands far and wide. I think in terms of how Leera will change, I think mostly she'll maybe find better things to publish about and the power she wields with words. I think the kidnapped girl can be saved, but that it needs to be done quickly. As for how this will ultimately resolve, I assume epic battle followed by emotional ghost revelations. As for other sorts of cases, I actually am expecting lots of drama ones with heavy emotional reveals from side characters. I could be wrong, but that feels like the route the comic is going. O_O

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Ryccomics

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic? Very good dynamic introduction between Moira and Emery. Very quickly and effectively I understood Emery is an older cynic, and Moira is the energetic and out to prove herself. 2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)? The magic reveal of what the potions/chemicals do is fun. I do not really understand how they work at this time, and I don’t really need to. 3. Who is your favorite character? Mauretta, she’s a lot of fun in design, and she gets to talk more than usual character type. I’m not sure what this character type would be called, but I’m going with person who starts the Scooby Doo mystery. 4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most? Moira and Emery have good chemistry. Having the young rookie be more powerful than the experienced partners adds to the dynamic. 5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

So much going on in this panel. All 5 characters are doing something. 6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores? I don’t have an answer yet, because how this encounter goes will shape the narrative, everyone could die. It could be resolved peacefully, it could wrap like a monster of the week story, or lead to bigger things. 7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content? I like the map in FAQ area of site is cool. Gives information for those who want it, but can be safely ignored by those that don’t. 8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are? I like your line art, a lot. The silhouettes read really well. And when working in black and white having distinct shapes is so important, you’ve color code your characters. 9. What do you think Emery did that caused him to be exiled by the Magician Order? How does this factor into his general cynicism and bitterness? Also, do you think Emery will ever be a magician again? I know from the Cast FAQ, he broke their laws, in what contest will tell a lot about Emery and the Order. I am a little unclear what the Magicians are at this points, how powerful they are in this society. Are the Magicians outside of the Magician’s order?

10. How do you think Moira became Emery’s apprentice despite Emery being an ex-magician? Similarly, why do you think Moira hasn’t joined up with the Magician Order? As the story develops, how do you think Moira will grow and change as a magician? I think Moira will have to confront what caused Emery’s cynicism. I expect she will get more powerful as the story begins. 11. Besides following Emery and Moira around, what role do you think Leera will have in the story? How might Leera’s presence hurt or help the duo on each case? Also, how will Leera change as she experiences things firsthand? I Leera’s role will be mainly to ensure the characters get back onto the plot. Most stories have some form of this function, whether it is the Greek gods, a ticking clock to motivate the characters to act right now Given she works for a newspaper, she can prod the characters to do news worthy things. 12. How do you think Moira and Emery will resolve the haunted opera house situation? Can the kidnapped girl be saved, or is she truly gone forever? Additionally, what other sorts of cases do you expect to see after this one? I feel it will have a happy ending, monster defeated girl saved. This is because the character dynamics would change really drastically if Moira had to confront extreme darkness so early, she would get cynical. 13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic? Will be interesting to see how the combat functions with regard to group dynamics, are the other characters going to plan a part in the combat, or are they on the sidelines. 14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic? I was sad when it ended.

RebelVampire

I am looking forward to finding out more about Emery and what Emery is capable of despite the circumstances. As for final words, this is just a lovely comic with tons of unique aspects about it that I really like.

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Devil Tongue this week! Please also give a special thank you to Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Devil Tongue, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: https://deviltonguecomic.com/

Devil Tongue’s Story: https://deviltonguecomic.com/store/

Samuel’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/sainezart

Lucas’ Twitter: https://twitter.com/lucaswordcraft

[julianwinchester]

1ST PROJECT

1. How are you settling in - how do you feel about being part of your tutor group?

Fine. I can just get my head down and work if I’m on a good thread and I want to and don’t feel overly distracted or frustrated with other people, but I haven’t really gotten to know any one closely yet. I enjoy being in a space where all I have to focus on is being creative and especially doing work I personally enjoy making.

2. What are your first impressions of the learning environment?

Fairly self-guided, I could ask for certain materials if needed. Getting out of it what I put in, little direct tutoring so far.

3. What are the differences to your previous learning and experience at A-Level?

I didn’t take any art classes at sixth form, so being in a space just dedicated to art is what I was looking for.

4. What if anything, do you need to find more about?

-What we actually do and don’t have access to in terms of materials, spaces, and guidance from tutors/other teachers with experience relevant to what you’re doing

-What is actually expected of you in the sketchbooks- my tutor says that it shouldn’t be a scrapbook and yet every well-graded sketchbook I’ve seen is very much a scrapbook. Do I need to write this much? Or is this too little?

-How to try different materials and get taught how to use them (ceramics, textiles, woodwork)

5. Where do you see yourself currently in terms of art/design/media?

-I have interests in working in all three areas and like the overlap between them.

6. What are your current strengths?

-Concepts, coming up with ideas out of the gate and being confident with them.

-Eye for design/what works visually and what doesn’t.

-It doesn’t take long for me to pick up what I’ve tried so far in Photoshop.

7. What are the areas you need to improve on?

-Follow-through on ideas I like but am not sure how to do

-Explaining/documenting my process- big problem at GCSE. I usually hate writing down my thought process after the fact, but I don’t mind explaining it out loud, so finding a way to bridge that gap

-Working from home

8. Record some actions that will help you achieve this.

-Document my reflections/notes/creative process in a more natural, train of thought way as I work so I don’t put it off

Week 2 09/09/18 - 13/09/19

1. How did you understand the rationale for the project?

Broadly, I understood it as making work which was true to our interests/interpretations of a particular subject, which we derived from the initial conversation and brainstorm we had in groups.

2. How have you made use of your studio time?

Sketching and writing in my sketchbook, testing materials, making pieces unsure if they were going to be a part of my final piece or not

3. What is your understanding of the “Creative Process” and how it applies to your way of Working?

Basically creating, scrapping and elaborating on ideas as they come to you- actively making inspiration. Testing materials/ideas/recycling/borrowing concepts regardless of whether or not they will work and trusting your own intuition/taste. “Sketching and writing in my sketchbook, testing materials, making pieces unsure if they were going to be a part of my final piece or not”

4. How have the contextual references you have found helped you think about new approaches to your work?

The book “No Sleep” by Adrian Bartos has been a huge inspiration so far- seeing how nightclub and event promoters designed flashy, attractive and personality-filled posters considering the lack of resources compared to what I’m capable of in Photoshop has made me want to take advantage of the platofrm even more, and have more fun with the design. Design elements like dithering, blocky type, collage, and repurposing sha

5. How have the practical and material elements of the work gone? (a) have you kept Notes?

Working with ink is fun and something I’m used to, but smudging and miswriting can be frustrating considering the inital aesthetic I was going for was meant to be more clean and technical. Later, while I moved into digital collage, all of my base materials were physical, and working with plasticine meant that I was also able to experiment in how the texture of the clay turns into the black and white, dithered aesthetic of the collages that I was doing. For much of the early project, yes, I’ve kept notes, but I tend to forget to while working digitally

6. What could you do better in the future / what are your plans for next week?

Write and make notes in my sketchbook/blog while working, rather than having to go back and write them after the fact.

7. Have you started photographing your work, keeping the images in a relevant folder?

Yes.

8. You had a tutorial this week, how might you use that to reflect on your progress?

Figure out if I’m making the right kind of notes/how to make those right kinds of notes.

FURTHER NOTES:

There were certainly points during class-time where I had to find things to do and procrastinated, which has been a consistent problem for me in the past. This was especially true in documenting; while I was happy to go crazy and spend lots of time working in Photoshop on my collages, it was really mostly by chance that I came across that idea and from messing around with Adobe Capture on my phone, which is not the most sustainable model of working.

I had a blast researching posters from New York’s nightclub scene in the 70s, 80s and 90s, pretty much completely incidentally when we were asked to pick out books at the library at the beginning of this week

MEDIA - THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG

Week 3 - Art/Media/Design Projects 16/09/19 - 20/09/19

First project, personal directions:

1. How well did you respond to the first project brief?

Considering the brief was (I believe purposefully) vague, and with my understanding the first brief was mostly about thinking in the creative process and being open to radical shifts in direction, I thought I fulfilled it well.

2. how well did you use your time this week?

I was really happy with the notes I made initially, and the idea of indiscriminately writing down every idea relevant to the project. I became kind of latched onto this idea of creating colourful, noisy gifs or short videos and I spent a lot of early class time working on the sound bytes for them, none of which I ended up using for my final pieces. A similar thing happened with experimenting with physical animation and a phenakistoscope, and it was frustrating feeling like I wasn’t really going anywhere with those ideas. However, I felt like they are getting me closer to my original idea.

Week 8 Art/Media/Design Projects 21/10/19 - 25/10/19

Third project, identifying future directions:

1. Identify overlapping themes, particularly in your personally directed work:

a. are there connections between ideas, approaches to materials or attitudes

that you have you used in all or any of these projects. If so, what are they? If

not, what are the main differences?

-Digital collage has ended up being something I used a lot more than I anticipated I would, since most of the work I’ve made independently before the Foundation year has been gouache and physical collage. I definitely follow the same process of sketching out mostly complete final piece ideas and doing extensive research, but I’ve also found that both projects have had a pretty radical change half-way through.

-I think research being a big part of my projects is a consistent theme for me, but I also consistently have a hard time documenting all the progress, since I’m not sure how to in most cases.

-In terms of consistent themes, all three were relatively different in themes; Media had to do with the supernatural, which is a theme I’m familiar with and interested in, and involved dipping my toes into animation and sound design; Art was based off of an idea I had had well before the project, and involved participatory art being being in a more curatorial role.

Compare how you have used your time between this project and the last. Consider

being open to different ideas and potential changes in direction.

exploring and evaluating different material possibilities.

creating more complex or unexpected outcomes.

developing an understanding of different artists and designers working in a similar area.

creating a better understanding of the different approaches to practice in each area.

presenting and/or explaining your ideas to others.

-I think organisation and note-taking has been a problem on both projects, I want to make the split between in-studio and at-home work more proportional, with time management being more of a problem with this project especially.

-I definitely haven’t been afraid to change direction, almost to a fault, since I closely documented every thought/decision that has gone through my head

Looking back over the last eight weeks are there patterns emerging in how you manage your project work?

-I definitely either latch strongly onto an initial idea, or don’t have one at all and do research, and I have a hard time working in that in-between stage when I need to develop an idea (especially if it’s one I don’t feel strongly about, such as with this current project.

Begin to outline your own particular strengths and weaknesses in relation to all of these approaches. Consider where/ how you fit into these different ways of working.

-I enjoy the research and

-Documentation in general is difficult for me, as it was at GCSE, especially since I have been tending to do all my digital work and research digitally. However, I really enjoy doing research for my work (something I have been doing for a long time, looking up references/inspiration/learning about the subject) the problem is just in getting my thought process and research down.

-I tend to treat the prompt or brief pretty flexibly, which hasn’t been such a problem on the first two projects since experimentation and being open to ideas was a major part of them. Despite the specificity of the Design project’s prompts, and my confidence in how I was going to approach my second try at that project (Switching from the Train Station to the Selfridge’s prompt)

List some of the artists, designers, photographers and filmmakers that have had the most influence on you in the last eight weeks.

what disciplines or areas do they work in?

what subjects did they study?

-Stephen R. Johnston

-Charles Freger

-Mason Lindroth

Use this week’s reflections to identify, or confirm possible future career directions.

-This last project has gotten me thinking about Illustration as a career differently. My initial difficulty with the Design project, criticism I received from my tutor about approaching the Selfridge’s brief by design rather than brand, and the fact that I changed briefs halfway through all of this project made it more frustrating than the previous ones, which is slightly discouraging because it was apparently the most “illustration-y” of the three, and illustration was the pathway I was considering choosing.

Ensure you have your Digital Portfolio updated.

[radwolf76]

FLASHBack: Week 52 - Charlie the Unicorn

Here we go, Major Milestone time here on FLASHBack -- The 52nd weekly installment, which marks the end of year one. Almost a birthday of sorts. Soon we will be entering the final year of Adobe's support for Flash, which was the inspiration for this whole project in the first place. I thought it best to mark the occasion with something truly magical, like say, a unicorn. Flash Animator Jason Steele had a tradition of making a unicorn themed Flash for his mother's birthday each year, which she would then turn around and upload to her Newgrounds account, TypeQueen. This started in 2003 with Evolution of the Unicorn a painting-like animation set to the William Tell Overture, inspired by Disney's Fantasia. 2004's Birthday would take a more comedic turn in The Last Unicorn, which was not based on the Rankin/Bass animation of the Peter S. Beagle novel of the same name but is instead an alien abduction story.   The next year, Steele would lean even harder into the comedy along with a heavy dash of absurd non-sequiturs. On 26 November 2004, Charlie the Unicorn would be uploaded to TypeQueen's account on Newgrounds. The story centers around a curmudgeonly grump of a white unicorn (named Charlie, if it wasn't obvious from the title), who wants to be left alone so he can nap. And since conflict is the engine that drives narrative, he is set upon by two other unicorns, one pink and one blue, both equally overly cheerful and more vapid than a sack full of Kardashians. They insist that he needs to go off on an adventure with them. (As an aside, in Jason's script the two other unicorns also have names, which are never mentioned out loud. The blue one is Lolz and the pink one is Roffle, but the fandom just calls them Blue and Pink.) The two have just acquired a map to Candy Mountain, and Charlie finally agrees to go along just to get them to stop bothering him about it. When their quest brings them to a Liopleurodon ("A magical Liopleurodon") who is supposed to give them advice on how to get to their destination, Charlie has a crisis of faith, declaring that there's no such thing as Candy Mountain. Blue and Pink immediately shun the non-believer ("Shhhhhuuuuuuunnnnn!!").

  The Liopleurodon dispenses its sage advice, in that way that only a land-bound Jurassic-era carnivorous marine reptile can. Then after crossing a "magical" bridge that gives Charlie splinters the trio of unicorns finally arrives at the fabled Candy Mountain. Pink and Blue try to convince Charlie to go inside Candy Mountain's cave, and of course he refuses. This prompts the letters of the word "Candy" in the Candy Mountain sign to hop down and break into a musical number. (Originally Steele was going to have Blue and Pink sing the song, but he felt it was too uptempo for the voices he'd given them, so he gave the song to the letter Y instead.) At the end of the song, the letters explode inexplicably. Charlie who has had quite enough of absurdity after absurdity in his day, gives up and agrees to go inside. The other two ominously say goodbye as the cave seals itself, and then in an unexpected twist, Charlie is mugged for one of his kidneys.   Three years later on 14 April 2008, a sequel, Charlie the Unicorn 2 would be released. This time Charlie finds his TV watching interrupted when Pink and Blue float by in full scuba gear, claiming to be exploring the ocean. Suddenly a glowing vortex erupts from Charlie's back and sucks the other two in. Unnerved by their sudden disappearance, Charlie calls out to the guys and then admits that he doesn't know if they're guys or girls. The pair do return, having retrieved a magic amulet from the vortex. It must be taken to the Banana King to prevent the vortex from releasing a thousand years of darkness. As they journey, they encounter the letter Z, who speaks Spanish. Eventually, they arrive at the temple of the Banana King, where a green... thing wearing a Santa hat (Damnit, there's another seasonal reference, I was trying not to make a habit of that this month) sings a song to Charlie about sticking a banana in his ear. At the end of the song he bursts into flames. When the time comes to return the amulet to the Banana King, it turns out the real Banana King was the Charlie we met along the way. And also this was all some elaborate ruse to distract Charlie so his TV could be stolen.   Jason would put out Charlie the Unicorn 3 a year later on 6 April 2009. This one finds Charlie accosted by Blue and Pink from a future where the world is about to end because evil has overrun good. Naturally they need his help with a snowman. The usual hijinks ensue, culminating in them taking a ride on a submersible duck. There's another musical number, lead by a capricorn sea goat, about how all sea life loves Charlie, especially one Starfish who's so eager to profess his love that he more shouts than sings. Halfway through, the song turns into the sea creature version of the PokeRap. Keeping up the trend, all the singers then explode at the end of the song, just in time for Charlie to find the snowman. He's then knocked out with sleeping gas, because Blue and Pink want his horn for the snowman nose. And while kidneys aren't traditional snowman decorations, Charlie's missing kidney is there too.   It would be another three years before the next sequel, Charlie The Unicorn 4. Premiering on 28 December 2012, Pink and Blue crash a rocket in the middle of the forest meadow. As they're frantically trying to warn Charlie (who has had to reattach his horn with a band-aid) about the danger of a Millipede on the Moon, Charlie cuts them off. He's been in enough of these situations to know the explanations don't help, and so he tells them to just take him to the moon already. They flip the world so that he falls off into space. On the way to the moon, Blue and Pink get up to their usual shenanigans. When they land on the Moon, The Millipede immediately shows up, and she launches into a Broadway-quality "I am" type song (as opposed to the other major song type from musical theatre and film, the "I want" song). The song feels like it should be an homage to the song Shiny from Disney's Moana -- both feature narcissistic arthropods who spend their entire songs bragging about how great they are. Except that Charlie the Unicorn 4 predates Moana's release by 4 years. One significant difference between the two songs: as Tamatoa isn't singing to Charlie, he doesn't blow up at the end of his song. The Millipede is not so lucky.   Having "defeated" the Millipede, the trio then enter the Cavern of the Red Wind. Inside, Blue and Pink reveal their plot to blow up the moon, with Charlie still on it, and then float off, leaving him stranded next to the bomb with its digital countdown. However, the Starfish who was so in love with Charlie in the previous chapter (and who didn't blow up because he didn't actually sing) shows up to rescue him. He talks Charlie into using him as a wishing star to get back to Earth. Pink and Blue are rather shocked to see that Charlie survived, after all the trouble they went to.   Steele produced plenty of other Charlie the Unicorn content, but as this post is getting long, we're going to save the rest for the day after Christmas. In the meantime, there will be a short intermission somewhere in Nevada. Also, if you'd prefer to see all four of these chapters together in one HD video, Here you go.