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miheartsedthings · 3 months

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good morning, with billy !

Lovely ~ @billysbot

Thanks for being patient while I worked on this. It's kinda angsty, but ends on fluff. Hope you like it!

Words: ~ 3,000

SFW Billy x Reader

Summary: Billy moves back to California with scars and unfinished business with you. He shows up to a party you're throwing. As usual, the two of you are the last ones awake, and it's finally time to settle your childhood beef.

Warnings: Aggressive behavior, angst, Mind Flayer, fluff

Billy’s been home a few months already. He has a job at his buddy’s surf shop and an apartment Susan insisted on putting him up in. What he doesn't have is the nerve to call you. The events at Star Court left him changed, and as he sat in the hospital through graduation, he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that had led him there. All the anger and resentment he’d brought with him to Hawkins, all the ways those negative emotions had torn through him, bringing out the very worst. Sure, some of it had been that monster, but there was plenty of darkness for it to feed on. Wrath he’d cultivated and thrived on. The Flayer had only taken advantage, turned it on him so he could feel it just as harshly as he inflicted it on others.

Steve, Nancy, and the kids all regarded him differently. With reverence and a little weariness. They had never trusted him, and now they never would. The only exception to this was Max. After the Mind Flayer was gone, she treated Billy like a brother, and in his injured state, he was in no position to refuse it. She visited him in the hospital, with food, and mixtapes she'd made of new songs coming out. He was grateful for her, happy the rest of them were alive. But he needed to get away.

Hawkins was a different place in the wake of that nightmare. Every shadow filled with movement, every sound insidious. Even the buildings themselves were strange. Besides, he was shaken, and there was no more energy for keg stands and ripping around town in the Camaro. He needed to rest in a place that felt safe. To rediscover the person he’d been before Hawkins, before his mom’s desertion. He needed to go home.

As soon as he was well enough, he packed up the Camaro and took off, bound for California. Max refused to cry but he could tell she was sad. It was wild for Billy to think his little brat of a step-sister would miss him. Back in Cali, the scenery was brighter, but Billy was flooded with memories of his childhood; days that were full to the brim with you.

The two of you met as kids, taking swimming lessons at the local pool. You were partnered up one day and from then on you were inseparable. You went to different schools, which didn't stop you from meeting every weekend to go swimming or hit the arcade or the movie theater. You spent Summer days riding your bikes around town trying to find trouble. He was the person you'd talk to when you fought with your girlfriends. Your house was where he ran when things got hard with his dad. You were best friends until the day his mom disappeared.

It was your junior year of high school. You'd watched each other change and grown attached to each other's company. Even though you'd both dated and cared for other people, you'd never felt for anyone else the way you felt about each other. The line between friendship and love was so thin the slightest pressure could’ve broken it. You thought you’d have the courage to confess your feelings that summer before senior year. Then, one day, he didn't wanna talk to you anymore.

“Are you kidding?”

You sat there on your bike, watching him flick a lighter over and over just to see the flame spring to life before letting it extinguish. All you knew was that his mom was gone, not how, or when or why.

“You're really not gonna tell me what happened?”

He sat on his porch steps, his face etched into a frown. He was acting tough but you could tell he'd been crying. When his eyes lifted to yours you expected they would soften like usual, but he glared at you.

“Hello?” You called.

He looked away. That's when you hopped off your bike, letting it fall in the grass, and snatched for the lighter. He shoved you away. You landed hard on your wrist, an instant burst of pain making you cry out. Usually when you horsed around and one of you got hurt, the other would snap out of it. Apologize. He just stood there on the porch steps, glaring down at you.

“Don't act like you care.” He sneered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He turned to walk inside and something desperate let loose inside you. The need to reverse whatever was happening by whatever means necessary.

“William.”

He stopped in his tracks.

Slowly, he turned, his eyes full of ice. For a moment you thought good, I have his attention. Then, he came down the steps and grabbed you by your injured wrist, yanking you to your feet. It didn't seem to matter that he was hurting you. He got in your face, glaring with such coldness.

“Don't you ever. EVER fucking call me that.”

His eyes were stone, his lips pinched into a tight line, and for the first time in your life, you were afraid of him. You felt yourself shrinking away, and when he let you go you stumbled back, tripped over your bike, and landed hard on the sidewalk.

The boy you'd grown up with was gone, and in his place was someone too full of anger to get close to. He was a burning sun.

The two of you stopped speaking.

A couple of weeks later you heard a rumor he was moving, and then he was gone.

Billy has looked back on the day he pushed you so many times. Every time he remembers the look on your face, all that pain and confusion, it fills him with regret. He wanted more than anything to call you and apologize, but every time he picked up the phone he found himself frozen, just staring at it. What would he say? How could he explain? In the end, he heard from one of his old buddies that you were throwing a party, and he resolved to be there. He'd say what he needed to say. One way or another.

“Happy Youcla?”

Piper makes a face looking at the banner Tracy made, and Tracy makes a face back.

“You-C-LA. It's like, an acronym. For UCLA?”

“Okay. Why?” Piper asks.

“It's fine,” you interject before the two can start fighting again, “It's cute. It's unique, Trac, I love it.”

Your friend group is…eclectic, and only on special occasions do they tolerate each other for your benefit. Your college going-away party is just the thing to bring them all together for one night. Which didn't stop it from being nerve-wracking. The house is yours for one more weekend, your parents away on a strategically planned vacation, giving you space for one final iconic L/N bash. Your friends have pulled out all the stops, decorating, sourcing booze and grass, one of them even offering to DJ.

The party is going well, friends from high school plus some people you’ve never even met crowd into the house, sitting along the stairs and standing in the halls. Filling the house with noise and laughter. You quickly get lost in it, drinking and dancing. Your head is empty until Billy walks in.

He takes you completely by surprise. You recognize his face, of course (who could forget that face?) but the rest of him is a shock. Growing up, both of you were a couple of dorks. Your mothers dressed the two of you in corduroy and plaid. Matching Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. Now he's wearing denim and leather, putting a cigarette out in an abandoned solo cup. His chest is clearly bulky under his red button-up, and he saunters through the foyer with an undeniable magnetism that draws dozens of eyes.

He's fucking hot.

His eyes scan the crowd, and then he sees you. He pauses mid-stride and stares at you for a long moment, a little smirk curling his lips. You turn away, your whole body flushing hot. God damn. Your childhood bestie is a certified smokin'-hot baddie. When you glance back he's flanked by a few of your friends who didn't grow up around here. He gives them well-meaning smiles, but his eyes come back to yours, making you look away again.

Fuck.

You thought you'd be ready when B-boy came back, but you can hardly stand his gaze. You didn't expect he'd be this fuckin fine. You’d always found him cute, but it was nothing like this! Now, he's being mobbed by girls the second he enters a party. You find yourself wondering how you look compared to your old self. Billy used to tease you about your looks, and now here he is. You move around the corner into the living room, taking another long drink to take your mind off things.

“Is that who I think it is?” Piper says, coming into the living room with you. “Is that B-boy Hargrove?”

You make a weak, anxious noise and drain your cup, your body buzzing.

“Holy shit.” Piper continues “He’s a fuckin smoke show.”

You have to buy yourself time to figure out how to talk to him without losing your mind. What on Earth would you even say? You spend the night dodging him. Luckily, everyone's eager for his ear and keep flocking to him, flooding him with questions. You’re sure he hates it, the smell of desperation always annoyed him, but you aren’t ready. Your wrist had been sprained that day and ever since it tends to ache when you’re upset, as you are now. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and old bitterness is filling your throat.

At some point, you're heading into the garage for more beer, and just as you're opening the extra fridge the door to the house opens and there he is. Billy stands there looking you up and down. Your body is warm and you're full of nerves.

“Hey.” You manage. You clear your throat and grab the six pack you'd come for. “I don't know why everyone insists on these being ice cold.” You say, at a loss for words. At least, words that make any sense. “I mean, of course, you don't want warm beer but it gives you a damn brain freeze sometimes.”

He's standing there stone-faced, looking at you so seriously you wonder if he's come with bad news.

“We should talk.”

Your breath catches in your lungs, staying there for a moment.

“About what?” You shrug, panicking.

Of all the ways you thought you'd react to Billy coming home, you didn't think it'd be like this. At the moment, all you want is to scramble away from him. Escape the tangle of emotions welling up inside you. The anger you thought you’d let go of, and the sadness underneath it. He’d thrown you away. There's so much you wanna say to him. Too much.

“Ya know, we were kids, B. It's whatever. I gotta get this beer inside, though.”

You approach him, hoping he'll move, and when he doesn't you're forced to confront the reality of how he looks. He’s fucking beautiful, and he’s looking at you like he wants to say something. You're right in front of him and memories are flooding you, rushing around in a whirlpool.

The time the two of you hid in the mall until it closed, or hacked one of the PAC Man games at the arcade and used the bounty of quarters to go hog wild in the candy store. The night you had your first kiss stolen by some jerk at summer camp and Billy kept ranting about finding the guy and beating him up for you.

His desire to defend you had put you at ease.

“You're a babe now, but you're still a chicken.” He says with a smirk.

“You're one to talk.”

You brush past him, successfully avoiding him for the rest of the night.

The house is quiet and littered with abandoned cups. Here and there things are where they shouldn’t be; a throw pillow on the stairs, a desk lamp in the bathroom. It’s so close to sunrise and you’re so tired, but you can’t sleep. You can never sleep after a party. So you go downstairs, finally leaving your room where you’d been hiding out (crying), and make your way to the living room. Someone left the TV on, and Singin' in the Rain is playing at a low volume. Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor are tapping through the opening number. You pull a throw blanket from the floor and wrap it around yourself. Just as you’re getting comfortable on the couch, you hear rustling in the kitchen. Billy emerges with a coffee mug.

You both pause, and he leans against the archway, looking as comfortable as ever. Like he belongs there in your home.

“Can’t sleep.” he says.

You're too tired to scurry away and let him sit beside you.

“Since when do you drink coffee?”

“They gave it to me all the time at the hospital.”

This gets your attention.

“You got hurt?”

“It's a long story.”

The two of you sit side by side, falling into a comfortable silence. His presence beside you is warm and familiar.

“You’re different.” he says.

“Yeah well, so are you. Ladies man now.”

He smirks a real cocky little grin that doesn’t last. It melts away while he’s looking into the mug, and it's replaced with a forlorn expression. He’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous.

“For a while, I thought I’d never see you again," you say.

His grip tightens around the cup. It’s the novelty mug you got from Virginia Beach the summer you turned 12. A vacation you'd shared with Billy and his parents.

“How was Indiana, anyway?”

He groans, leaning back against the couch.

“A fuckin nightmare. And I mean that in so many ways, when I tell you about all the shit…”

He looks at you, his eyes groggy from alcohol and lack of sleep.

“It was like that time I got stuck in the Devil's Mansion at the county fair.”

You nod at the memory.

“I remember. You freaked out, and started breaking all the puppets.”

His eyes are clouded with memories, and the kind of fear you haven’t seen in him in a long time. He’s come home haunted. Injured. Your heart beats hard in your chest.

“There's so much I wanna tell you.” he says.

“Just start by saying you're sorry.”

His blue eyes are the ones you recognize.

“I am, Y/n. I think about that day all the time.”

You look at him and see the boy you grew up with.

“What happened?”

He sighs, taking a beat to reach that tender place he hides away. It's hard for him, even with you.

“She left. She just left that morning and she didn't say shit to me.”

Your eyes tear up as he lets this out, replaying the day he’d hurt you.

“But that didn't mean I had to take it out on you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.

“It kinda…you kinda fucked me up that day..."

Your voice is strained, feather fragile. He sets down the coffee and turns his body to face you, pulling his leg up on the couch so there’s only a small wedge of space between yourself and his lap. His face is tight, and he runs his hands into his hair the way he does when he's frustrated.

“I know, I'm- I'm fuckin sorry, I…I've been thinking about all this shit lately. I've hurt a lot of people, and it all started that day. You were the first person and you didn't deserve it.”

You can't help it anymore, you're swelled with emotions and the tears start coming. You wipe them on your sleeve. He looks so sad to see you cry, his face growing red.

“Ya know,” you begin “My biggest fear for a while was that you'd never apologize, and we'd never go surfing on Lizard Island.”

He laughed. It filled him with so much relief that you were the same sentimental weirdo he'd left over a year ago.

“You forgive me?” He asked.

Outside, the first rays of sunlight were peeking through, and on the screen, the trio tapped across a grand foyer singing ‘Good mornin’, good mooornin’!’

“Yeah, B,” you manage, your voice breaking “I forgave you a long time ago.”

He smiles, and in the light of morning, it’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't stand it anymore, you lean over and kiss him and he pulls you into his arms, your body falling into his warm lap. He kisses you deeply, taking your lips and tongue in a greedy show of affection.

The sweetest ‘Good Morning’ you’ve ever known.

Thanks for the request! ~

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove 18+#billy hargrove smut #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #story #requests open #request

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alpaca-clouds · 9 months

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BELLE and the fantasy of a non-corporate internet

Just a little thing I kinda want to end out this week speaking about democratized media on. Because there is this little thing in Mamoru Hosoda's newest movie BELLE... I am honest: I am not entirely sure whether it is something Hosoda and his team thought about when making this movie. But... this movie has this wonderful little anarchist moment.

BELLE is all in all not really an anarchist movie. Nor is it Solarpunk. But it picks up this theme, that goes through several movies Hosoda has done. His "internet triology" how I like to call it:

Digimon Adventure: Bokura no Wargame

Summer Wars

BELLE

Three movies that are not only connected in aethetic, but also in theme. All three of them having a plot that takes place online for good chunks.

And that theme is of the internet connecting people all around the world. Of allowing people all around the world to connect.

The Digimon Adventure movie focuses on the idea of the young millennials in that movie having access and understanding of this new virtual world, that the older generation lacks. In the Japanese version of the movie there is a prolonged gag sequence of Yamato and Takeru trying to get access to the internet with a lot of confused adults thinking about whether or not they have this access.

This shifts in Summer Wars, where the internet suddenly is a place that everyone uses over a lot of different access points. In the finale we see people use the internet via phones, laptops, high end computers and video game consoles. Though it also gives a warning of us not relying on it too much.

And then we have BELLE, which focuses on the internet as a place where people can truly be themselves and connecting with each other, while being unable to connect in the real world (partly because of distance), as well as the internet of a place to rediscover yourself and as a medium to help each other.

But all three movies kinda have one scene in common. There is a scene towards the finale where all seems lost and the character outmatched by the antagonist. (I am gonna say something about the antagonists in a moment.) And then... everyone gets together. And by everyone I mean everyone. In Bokura no Wargame it is the emails of encouragement and the spirits of all those kids and teens watching the battle that allow War Greymon and Metal Garurumon to fuse into Omegamon. In Summer Wars it is the fact that everyone risks their accounts by handing them over to Natsuki that allows them to beat the AI in hanafuda. And in the finale of BELLE it is everyone banding together to sing and no longer supporting the self-appointed moderators that allows Suzu to make Kei hear her voice. It is the connection of people via the internet that allows people to succeed in these movies.

But there is one thing in which BELLE differs from the other two movies - or rather all three movies differ from each other.

Bokura no Wargame still very much is set in Web 1.0, before social media and the bottlenecking of the internet. Again, the movie makes this big thing out of the internet being a thing for the youth.

Meanwhile Summer Wars is set within a very corporate "everything platform". And while this movie does have some message about "yeah, maybe having all that data within one system is a bad thing, actually", there is not really a comment about the company running OZ and whether maybe one company should not own the one platform that in this world basically IS THE INTERNET.

BELLE is different in that regard. Because BELLE makes a point out of the fact that U is an open source platform that was created to... basically run anarchical. There was not supposed to be an central control. That the users were supposed to have control over their experience on the platform. But because the creators also did not want to have "control" over it, big companies just took over and devided U up between themselves, creating that moderation team that is seen as the antagonists within the movie. And here is the thing: That big scene of everyone coming together and singing? Yeah, that is the scene in which the users take the control over the platform back from the companies. And since U is basically the the internet in this world... Part of the finale is basically the users taking back their control over the internet.

And... I don't know. I have not seen people talk about this so far. But to me it is the nice and utopic part in this movie.

The internet is such a great thing to connect people. And that is something that Mamoru Hosoda has definitely understood better than many other film makers. And we just... should not let big coorporations take this from us.

#web 1.0 #web 2.0 #democracy #anarchy #belle #belle movie #mamoru hosoda #digimon adventure #digimon #summer wars #take back the internet

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mushiewrites · 11 months

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Got Your Back

Hiya! So I’ve had this fic since last September, I wrote it for @emmadoodlewrites when we both went insane for tickle machines and made up a few in a flustered frenzy. I recently rediscovered this fic and shared it with @wishitweresummer, who encouraged me over and over to upload it. So, I reworked it, somehow added 1K words, and here we are. Thank you @awkwardtickleetoo + summer for reading this through for me and for hyping it up and making me want to post it! (and thank u cal for the title ur a genius). I love how it turned out, and I hope you do too!

After George confessed his love for tickling to Dream, he decides to make him something special in support. Dream gets curious, and before he knows it, he’s stuck

(lee!Dream / tickle machine : 3.6K words)

Dream had always been curious. Everyone who knew him was aware of this fact, mostly due to the blonde getting himself into trouble because of it. Whether he was exploring new places without a map or tinkering with things he shouldn’t, he was used to things backfiring. But he didn’t really mind. He much preferred taking the risk in favor of trouble in order to learn everything he could about anything and everything he was interested in - including people.

Another thing Dream was known for was his generosity. Gift giving was absolutely one of his main love languages, and he constantly used it to show his friends and loved ones just how much he cared for them. Dream was thoughtful, always collecting things that reminded him of specific people and being so excited to give it to them, relishing in the way their faces would light up at the unexpected gift.

Recently, George had revealed some very personal information about himself with Dream. A few weeks ago, while sitting underneath an oak tree in the rain, George had told Dream his thoughts and feelings on tickling - about how much he loved it, and how much he adored the feeling of it. He told Dream how warm and safe the action made him feel, sputtering and whining through it all. It took some much needed coaxing and reassurance from the blonde, but in the end, George got it all out. Dream was there to support him through the whole thing, wrapping him into the biggest hug he could while showering him in praise.

Immediately after George had left that day, the cogs in Dream’s brain began to turn. He was set on creating things to show George that he didn’t have to be embarrassed about his secret adoration for tickling, wanting to make him something special and just for him. Dream spent many nights hunched over his crafting table drawing up blueprints, feeling like a madman whenever he came up with a new contraption to torture George with. After coming up with a few solid ideas, the building began.

It started with a small tickle machine.

It was around the same size and shape of a normal backpack, and designed to sit against the back the same way. There were eight retractable arms that sat over the shoulders, ribs and sides, much like how a koala would cling onto a person. The arms were designed to be able to perform the meanest of tickles that George could handle (or not, but that wasn’t Dream’s problem). The ends of the metal rods were covered in small rubber nubs, molded to glide expertly between ribs, to skitter up and down squishy sides, to poke and prod against sensitive stomachs - the possibilities were endless on someone as ticklish as George.

The machine was still in the prototype stages, but it was ready to be tested to make any final adjustments. He planned on waiting until the next time he was with George to test it, wanting to see how the machine worked on the smaller boy and hoping to find ways to make improvements. But the longer the device sat idly, waiting for its first victim, the more Dream’s curiosity grew.

So he decided to test it himself.

After a lot of pacing and contemplating, he walked over to the chest in the corner of the room where he kept the machine, opening the lid and chuckling nervously when he saw it. It looked like some kind of giant upside down bug, with the legs curled in on themselves while in the ‘off’ position. Dream lifted it from the chest, holding it in his hands and inspecting it while the butterflies in his stomach erupted into a whole new wave of panic. It took a bit of self convincing but he finally decided that yes, he was absolutely going to test this now. What George didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Dream let out a nervous giggle as he pressed the little green power button on the middle of the machine, reaching around and holding it against his back the best he could to try and secure it. He struggled with the positioning, taking a few steps back until he felt his heels hit the wall. Dreamed leaned against it, using the wall to help hold the machine in the correct spot and allowing the arms to finally extend out and over his body, clinging on and tightening to hold itself in place. The blonde watched in amusement as the arms reached over his shoulders and hugged around different parts of his ribs and sides, settling down after a few minutes and becoming still against him. He smirked to himself, happy with the way the machine was working so far.

Dream jumped forward with a yelp as the arms began to move, pulling him from his thoughts and bringing his attention to the new sensation that was spreading across his torso. It was only the first stage of the tickling, Dream having set different settings and stages for different tickling speeds and techniques. But even at the lowest stage, it had Dream doubled over, squirming against the wall as the ends of the metal arms pressed lightly against his ribs. The drew small, slow circles into the bones, pulling strained laughs out of Dream even as he tried his hardest to hold them in. He didn’t expect it to be this bad, but it was, and all he could think about was how much this would get to George. Through his panicked giggles he cheered at his success in making a functioning tickle machine.

The arms slowed to a halt, giving Dream time to catch his breath. He stood back up on his feet, turning around to face the wall and leaning his forehead against it with a groan. He closed his eyes as he continued to take in deep breaths, smiling at the thought of George screaming and squealing having to endure this himself. Suddenly the arms sprung back to life, digging in with a little more pressure at a quicker speed. Dream was thrown into loud cackles almost immediately, pushing off the wall and throwing his head back, his arms pressed as tightly as he could to his sides in an attempt to block out the tickly feeling.

“Ohoho my Gohohod, fuck! Thihis is bahahad!” Dream knew no one was around but couldn’t help but narrate the feeling. It was just so much more ticklish than he ever thought it would be, and it was only the second stage. He clenched his fists tightly, his eyes still squeezed shut as he let out a wheeze through his laugh, hiccups and high pitched squeals following closely behind.

The arms that rested over his shoulders were prodding into his top ribs, just below his armpits. They dug in slightly, vibrating over the bones every few seconds and making Dream feel weak in the knees. The other three sets of arms were poking into his ribs and sides, moving slightly every time they lifted up and touching down, always tickling a new patch of skin to keep him squirming. He leaned forward as he cackled, trying his best to stay standing as he laughed himself silly. He couldn’t remember the last time he was tickled this much - in his defense, he couldn’t really remember anything anyway with how fiercely the machine was tickling. Through it all, though, he did have one consistent thought; it tickled, and it tickled bad.

Dream gasped for air the minute the machine came to another pause, his giggles remaining as the metal arms stayed pressed against the bones of his ribs. He couldn’t shake the ghost tickles that had his stomach doing somersaults, even when he used his hands to rub the areas around where the arms were resting. The blonde found himself giggling helplessly, deciding he’d done enough testing for one day and reaching back in an attempt to power off the machine. George could try out the more intense settings the next time he stopped by.

But as Dream felt around blindly for the power button, he realized he couldn’t reach it from this position. He opened his eyes in a panic, quickly looking around on the table beside him for anything he could use to help reach it.

“Shit. Uhm….” Dream was mumbling under his breath as he searched through different tools, eventually giving up and turning around to gently press against the wall behind him to try and successfully hit the power button. But it was no use, and the familiar sound of the machine whirring to life echoed through the room once more.

Suddenly the arms were digging into his ribs and sides, only this time, the bottom set of arms made their way over to his very sensitive tummy. He let out a shriek as they vibrated into the pudge of his lower tummy, between his belly button and the waistband of his pants.

“No no nahahahaha! Fuhuhuck, plehehease! PLEHEHEASE!” Dream wailed, feeling the second lowest set of arms moving over either side of his belly button and pressing in, vibrating again, but at a much faster pace than before. He doubled over once again, his back arching off the wall before leaning over with his elbows to his knees, cackling towards the floor with his eyes squeezed shut.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the top two sets of arms began seeking out even more sensitive spots on his very ticklish torso. The lower of the top two sets found their way to the back of Dream’s ribs, a spot he had programmed purposely to fuck with George. He cried out at the feeling, never having been tickled there before and realizing how absolutely torturous it was. The top set framed themselves perfectly to wiggle their way under Dream’s arms, sending him flying back against the wall with his arms crossed over his stomach tightly.

“Nohoho, oh fuhuhuck, stohohop!” His knees began to wobble and he allowed himself to slowly slide down the wall, only stopping when he hit the ground with a thump. Dream pulled his knees up as much as he could, attempting to try and protect himself from the tickling but finding that it only further pressed the arms into his skin. He quickly straightened his legs out against the ground, kicking as he grabbed fistfuls of his pants, needing to hold onto something.

As the tickling continued, Dream fell to the ground on his side, turning onto his back and rolling back and forth a few times to try and hit the button against the floor. The third set of arms moved a little closer on either side to his belly button and he squealed, thrashing and squirming and kicking out as much as he could. No matter how much he pressed the machine into the ground, no matter what angle, it was no use - Dream was well and truly stuck.

The tickling finally stopped, but Dream couldn’t stop laughing. He was overwhelmed with the vibrations from the ghost tickles, still feeling the tingly circles and pokes over his torso as if they were still happening - even in the spots left untouched. He heard a noise from across the room and opened his eyes quickly, almost choking on his own breath as he saw George standing in the doorway, whose cheeks were bright red with his jaw dropped to the floor.

“G-George! I cahahan-”

“Dream?” George interrupted, his blushy cheeks somehow also appearing to be drained of all color as his eyes focused on the machine still wrapped around the blonde. “..What is that?”

The younger boy opened his mouth to try and explain, to try and make any excuse he could, but was cut off with a loud cackle when the machine clicked back on, the arms back in motion and making him scream.

“Noho not again! Nohoho plehehease! NOHOHO!” Dream let out a squeal that bounced off the walls of the room, startling George with the force of it. The older boy ran over and kneeled next to the blonde, trying to figure out what it was and what exactly was happening.

He watched with wide eyes as the metal arms poked and swirled and vibrated against Dream’s torso, focusing on his ribs and under his arms. The blonde let out a scream when the machine began to pick up speed and the bottom arms moved, making him arch up against the ground before falling back down against it, writhing and kicking as he did. Dream’s hands were wrapped around the bottom set of arms, pulling as much as he could to try and dislodge them, but finding it useless. George’s eyes trailed down to where they disappeared under the blonde’s shirt, moving a hand to grab the bottom of the fabric to slowly pull it up. George felt his face burning up as he saw the two bottom arms tickling at Dream’s belly button - one circling around the edge as the other pulled at it, occasionally dipping in and making Dream cry out in ticklish agony.

Dream swore he saw stars from how hard his eyes were squeezed shut. He knew he was screaming through his laughter, yet everything sounded muffled. His senses were on fire. The arms of the machine were sinking into every sensitive spot with precision, and with the two taunting the small indent in the center of his tummy, he thought he might seriously pass out at any second. His face was hot, and he could hear George talking to him and saying his name, but he couldn’t focus on anything else besides how horribly everything tickled. He attempted to open his eyes, but he was laughing so hard that his cheeks were keeping them squinted, blurring his vision and making it essentially impossible to see. Dream had no choice but surrender to the tickles, throwing his head back and letting himself laugh as much as he needed to.

He felt a hand grab his shoulder and pull him onto his side, and suddenly he could breathe again, taking in gulps of air and gasping through his cackles. George had managed to find the power button, finally freeing Dream from the ticklish hell he had been enduring. The brunette was carding his hand through the blonde waves, adjusting the two so that Dream’s head was resting against his thighs.

“Thank you, ohoho my God…” Dream managed through his left over giggles, turning to lay flat on his back as he draped a hand over his chest, letting out a deep sigh when he felt how fast his heart was beating. His eyes were still shut but he could hear the brunette laugh from above him, feeling his hand being moved from his chest and being replaced with one much smaller than his own. Dream moved his hand back, laying it over George’s and holding it for comfort.

“What even was that thing?” George asked hesitantly. Dream could sense the nervousness in the elder’s voice, opening his eyes slowly to adjust to the light and allowing them to focus on the brunette. George’s face was closer than he expected, making him giggle when George realized and pulled back quickly, clearing his throat and looking away from the blonde. Dream watched with a wide smile as George’s face grew an even deeper shade of red, clearly flustered at the situation he had walked in on.

“Well,” Dream spoke through his teeth, grunting as he moved to sit up slowly and cracking his back before turning around to face George. “You were nice enough to trust me with the whole tickling thing, so I wanted to do something special for you!”

Dream laughed as George physically cringed at the mention of the dreaded word, turning his attention from the blonde once again and looking down at his lap, picking at a loose thread in his pants to distract himself as he continued.

“O-Okay, and what? You decided you wanted to torture yourself to relate, or….?” He let out a squeaky giggle when Dream scoffed at the accusation, squirming to the side when a poke landed on his ribs.

“No, idiot. I actually made it…for you. For fun for us, but I was also thinking about it for the times where I can’t be there to help, you know?” Dream spoke gently, suddenly feeling shy about the whole thing and reaching behind him to pick up the small machine to hand to George. He watched as George’s face continued to turn a bright red, biting his lip to hold back the giggle that was threatening to escape to try and remain calm, knowing how embarrassing the subject was for the brunette.

“Dreeeeam,” George whined, holding the machine in one hand and bringing his free hand up to cover his face. “That’s…that’s just…”

He was struggling to find the words, torn between wanting to scream out in embarrassment, and wanting to cry because of how lucky he was to have someone like Dream supporting him. The younger boy giggled at the response, leaning forward and pulling the smaller boy into a hug. He smiled when he felt George lean into him, letting out a shaky breath as Dream used a hand to rub up and down his back soothingly.

“You’re welcome, Gogy.” Dream smirked, feeling George hide his face into the crook of his neck, whining about how much of an idiot he was. He let George pull away after a minute, using the floor to push himself up onto his feet and leaning down to offer George a hand. The brunette accepted it, grabbing the bigger hand and laughing when Dream yanked him to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

“I have a feeling this thing is gonna absolutely destroy you, Georgie.” Dream teased, poking at the machine and giggling when George turned his hips to prevent him from touching it. He noticed the elder’s blush had spread to the tips of his ears, the light pink color slowly turning a lighter shade of red the more flustered he became. George rolled his eyes at the blonde, hugging the machine to his chest as he spoke.

“Well, it sure did destroy you, didn’t it, Dreamie?” Dream made a move to walk towards the door, George suddenly stepping in his path and making the two almost collide together. He felt his own stomach flip at the question, taking a small step back and bringing a hand up to run through his hair as a way to cope with the nervousness he suddenly felt.

“I don’t know about that, but-” he tried to excuse the accusation away, but George was having none of it. He got a sudden wave of confidence, and mixed with his normal cockiness, Dream was doomed.

“No no no, you’re not gonna act like that didn’t just wreck you to pieces, Dream.” The blonde felt himself swallow hard as George took a step forward back into his space. “Which is kind of questionable, actually, because why would someone subject themselves to such torture if they didn’t like it? Care to explain?”

“N-No! No, I-”

“You liked it, didn’t you?” George held up a hand, slapping it over Dream’s mouth when he opened it to protest. “You wouldn’t have tried it if you didn’t think you’d like it at least a little bit.”

George removed his hand to let Dream answer, bursting into bright giggles when the blonde pressed his lips together tightly, his cheeks burning up and turning a dusty pink.

“I don’t!” George laughed at the way Dream was immediately defensive, not having any real excuse to offer other than a denial.

“Don’t worry, Dream. Your secret’s safe with me.” The older boy poked a finger into Dream’s tummy, making him jump back with a squeal. When he looked up again, George was walking towards the door, laughing as he went. Dream groaned, looking down at his shirt and bringing a hand up to his stomach, rubbing out the lingering tingles that George had left behind. He heard the door opening, looking up and being met with a very menacing smirk.

“Just to let you know, I absolutely will be using this against you. Watch your back, Dream. Your very, very ticklish back.” Dream felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched George flash him one last smile before turning to step through the threshold of the door with a wave, closing it lightly behind him.

Dream walked over to the crafting table, leaning back against it and letting out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. He sat down on the stool next to him, letting his head fall into his hands with a flustered whine, giggling to himself at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

When the flustered feeling finally passed, Dream was back on his feet, scribbling over blueprints of other ideas he had, making little improvements and upgrades as he worked. Dream decided he needed to up his game. If George thought that machine was mean, he decided to show him just how bad it could get. Dream was about to create George’s worst nightmare. Dream was determined to make George cry.

And he had just the idea on how to do it.

#lee!dream #tickle machine #this is different from the normal #and is very clearly set up for a sequel………so if u like this and wanna see more pls lemme know #again thank u to emma for letting me post this #thank u to summer for really hyping the shit out of this i don’t think i would’ve ever posted it without you #and thank u to my puppy cal for reading literally all of my fics and helping with the title #anyway…..enjoy!#mushie fics #mcyt tickle #my stuff

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londonfoginacup · 3 months

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Was spring cleaning and rediscovered my original attempt at paper dolls! I had barely started getting good at digital programs so I kept printing harry to draw the outfits on top of (this did not work out well lol).

My paper dolls have gone through so many renditions over the years. Really hoping that my digital ones get finished before summer 💪 I’ve only been working on them since… summer 2022 lmao

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danjaley · 3 months

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Das Leben der Hochgräfin Gritta von Rattenzuhausbeiuns

My favourite book in elementary school (and I still like it today)

In my last book post I wrote that I first heard of Anne of Green Gables when the girl who bullied me in elementary school presented it as her favourite book. So I thought I might show you the book I held my presentation about.

Das Leben der Hochgräfin Gritta von Rattenzuhausbeiuns (The Life of Gritta, High Countess of Ratsareathomewithus) is a fairy-tale-novel by Gisela von Arnim. It was written in the 1840s but only rediscovered and published in the 20th century. It was adapted as a screenplay and simplified children's book by GDR author Christa Kożik. This was the version I read aged eight and loved to pieces. I also saw the film once, but I didn't love it as much as the book. It has some very good songs, I remember.

The story is about Gritta, a girl countess who lives with her father, an inventor, at their run-down castle some time in the 18th century. She loves to read and she's friends with the Queen of the rats which populate the castle in abundance. One day a runaway spoiled noblewoman takes refuge with them and Gritta's father falls head over heels in love with her. They marry and Gritta is sent to a horrid convent school. There she discovers a plot: Young girls are sent to the convent. Once they're there, the nuns find ways to grab their inheritance and keep the girls locked away. This was the fate her stepmother ran away from. Together with ten of her friends Gritta escapes from the convent.

Here the two versions take slightly different paths. In the modern one, the girls live at an abandoned farm for one summer until they return to their homes. Gritta proceeds to the capital city, where she finds her family again. They've lost their remaining money and have gone to sell an invention to the king: A catapult throne that will save him in case of revolution. A twist that you rarely meet and I really loved: Poverty and the birth of a son have turned Gritta's spoiled stepmother into quite a responsible and likeable person and she apologizes for her behaviour. Gritta had already met the king's son while she was on the run. He smuggles her into the palace of his naive and gluttonous father. There she reveals to him the doings of the corrupt royal advisor, who is also at the bottom of the convent's plot.

While this was a quick summary of the simplified version, the original runs absolutely wild. After the girls escape the convent, they go on an adventurous journey, which becomes increasingly fantastical. Some episodes seem prototypical of Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. Finally they get shipwrecked and build up a new life. But their "lonely island" is in fact a valley near the capital. Here the story in which Gritta reunites with her family and saves the kingdom comes back in. In the end the girls set up an alternative convent according to their own rules. Except for Gritta, who in this version actually marries the prince and refurbishes the kingdom, but of course stays their friend.

I think if I'd read this as a child I would have loved that the focus stays on Gritta's girl-gang. They have so many more adventures here. I always thought the modernized story dismissed them too quickly. Not sure what I would have made of the fanciful nature of their adventures. One of my favourite characters today is Wildebeere (Wildberry), one of the girls, who starts out as a botanist, but is later adopted by wood-elves and becomes a sort of forest spirit. And I'd certainly have struggled with the over-the-top 19th century language. Though that makes up the poetry of it.

I've kinda outgrown the modernized version today. As a historian I can't help noticing the GDR mindframe. Indeed the original was written before the 1848 revolution and pokes some acid fun at absolutist monarchy, aristocracy and the church. That's the most likely reason it wasn't published. But the adaptation presents the messages rather bluntly - to children who don't have the foggiest idea what were the problems in 1848.

On a related note, I feel today that the modern book made Gritta a bit too sassy. She's much more gentle in the old one and as so often this clashes in scenes where she's supposed to be insecure. Some scenes actually get funnier with her acting all demure, like the one where she locks the king in a cupboard. Also, I'm all for the concept of becoming an independent spirit through reading. But as a book-historian I can tell that you don't become a cheeky kid by reading a library full of 18th-century books.

What also fascinates me today is the story how Gritta was rediscovered in the archives in the 20th century. The manuscript had been scattered over several bequests and wrongly attributed to Gisela's famous mother Bettine von Arnim. I kinda envy the guy who pieced it together. But I should be content with my lot, because that's exactly the sort of thing I'm doing in my PhD project right now.

Actually this book relates to the McCarrics in two very peculiar ways: For one thing, Gisela von Arnim was the great-granddaughter of Sophie von la Roche, after whom I named Marianne's family.

Then, according to my mother, my first two stories ever were two endless nonsensical serials I always updated her on, aged around three. The first was called The Lady of the Rats' Castle. Sadly I don't remember anything about it and my mother says it didn't have any rememberable plot. Possibly she bought me Gritta because of it.

The other was called The very Elegant Scottish Girl. I remember I started this one because I loved my red tartan skirt and my father had told me that in Scotland everyone is always dressed in tartan, even the men! So I thought this country must be the epicentre of nobility and elegance. I just love that these two titles still reflect my literary activities to the present day.

#book blog intermission #nonsims

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f1hallmarkfest · 1 year

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Formula 1 Hallmark Fest

Hello one and all! We are delighted to announce the Formula 1 Hallmark Fest, aiming to bring winter cheer and cheesy festive feel-good holiday fic to the masses.

What is Hallmark?

Every year, The Hallmark Channel has their annual Countdown to Christmas celebration. As you can imagine from the title, the movies center around Christmas/winter holiday themes. Hallmark Christmas movies are some of the cheesiest, most nostalgia-evoking films you can imagine. Many of them center around small towns and discovering (or rediscovering) the spirit of Christmas, spending time with family and friends, and finding love in the holiday season!

Hallmark Christmas movies are absurd in the best way, making them perfect for fanfic plots.

How to Join

Join our fest Discord

Join the AO3 collection

The Rules

For writers- Minimum word count: 4000 words (and the sky's the limit)

For artists- Minimum art requirements: Lined and colored

Theme: Your work must align with the theme of the fest, that being cheesy heartwarming festive goodness!

Other than that, there are no limits on what you can create! A short, fluffy feel-good fic oozing with tender holiday love? A novel-length fic with an intricate plot and epic highs and lows? A painting of your favorite guys kissing under the mistletoe? A comic centered on holiday misadventures? Your call!

Key Dates:

Important Dates

TBD: Sign-ups close July 15th: Check-in 1 October 15th: Check-in 2 November 25th DECEMBER 14th: Collection submission December 1st 17th!!!: Fic reveals start

Important Links:

Admin: Dees @leclercenjoyer Mods: River @river-ocean, Tracy @apeacebone, Samuel @gearshxft Discord Server: https://discord.gg/GmXyBx3AVC AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/F1_Hallmark_Fest Sign-up form: here Email: [email protected]

FAQ under the cut! 👇

1. Does it have to be AU? Not at all! F1 drivers' lives are already so god damn weird that it lends itself perfectly to the sort of over-the-top nonsense that makes a Hallmark movie truly special.

2. Does it have to be romantic? Absolutely not! Follow your heart <3

3. Does it have to be Christmas specifically? Nope! At their core, Hallmark movies are Christmas movies, but it's not essential. Any winter holiday, or even just winter in general, can fit the bill. (Or I guess summer, for the southern hemisphere?)

4. Can I do art for someone else's fic? Yes! Absolutely! We won't be pairing writers and artists (a la Big Bang) but you are more than welcome to find a writer to work with through our fest discord!

5. What happens if I have to drop out? Nothing! We understand that circumstances can change, and the deadline is long so unexpected situations may arise. If you sign up and find you can't participate, that's fine! Just drop the mods a line, no hard feelings.

6. Does my work have to be completed for me to submit it to the fest? Given the length of the deadline, we would ask that yes, your work should be finished before posting!

7. Do you accept late sign-ups? Sure!

8. Do I have to have an idea when I sign up? No! If the theme of the fest intrigues you but you can't think of what you want to write/draw right off the bat, you're still welcome to sign up! The discord server is the perfect place to workshop ideas with your fellow creatives, and we even have a random plot generator if you need a shot of inspiration.

9. Can I join the Discord server if I'm not participating in the fest? Yes, absolutely! If you just wanna come hang out, share in the vibes and the love and chat with folks, you are more than welcome to! And who knows, perhaps inspiration will strike you!

10. Why is the deadline so long? We decided to get started early to give people lots of time to work on their fics! This way, if people want to write proper longfic, there's plenty of time to get it done!

#f1 fic fest #f1 hallmark fest #f1 rpf

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anakinspraisekink · 2 years

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An Obikin Fic Rec List!

This has been a long time coming, but I've curated a list of some of my favorite obikin fics. I tried to pick ones that are relatively less "well known" than ones usually recommended, but are no less amazing, so have fun finding some new gems or rediscovering some old ones :)

I also chose only one fic from each author, otherwise this would be impossibly long, so check out everything else from each author too because they're all amazing!

I've organized them into sections based on setting, but they're otherwise in no particular order.

GFFA post-prequels/everything is good:

🌺 dreams of summer by @elysian-prince

→ “On the night of the lunar eclipse, if you place seven different flowers under your pillow, you’ll dream of the other half of your soul—the person you’re meant to spend your life with.”

The thought of finding out his true soulmate through a Force vision of some sort sent a thrill through his heart. Anakin was enamored by the very concept of lovers as two halves of the same soul, fitting together perfectly in almost every way imaginable as if they were made for one another. And while Anakin wanted almost more than anything else to know who that person was, he couldn’t fathom it being anyone but Obi-Wan.

→ rated E, soulmate au, after the war, sexual content, ≈34.2k

→ I might be a bit partial to this because it was gifted to me, but this is one you absolutely must read!! It's got all the sweet moments I adore, all the mushy pining and yearning, and the loveliest way of getting together. It's a fic that makes you want to curl up all cozy and slowly enjoy it, and it makes me so unbelievably happy. Caitlynn is always amazing at writing obikin in a way that feels so sweet and adoring and authentic.

🌟 The strongest stars… by @tomicaleto

→ ...have hearts of kyber

Anakin and Obi-Wan successfully rescued the Chancellor from Grievous and Dooku. Anakin fought against the Sith Lord and won, taking his life at the Chancellor's order.

Now, weeks after being assigned at the Council and asked to spy on the Chancellor, he struggles with his duties as a Jedi while Obi-Wan is gone pursuing Grievous.

The war's end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple.

→ rated E, canon divergence, fix-it, sexual content, ≈7.4k

→ this is the most wonderful RotS fix-it!! It's so creative with the divergence and the added characters (including the QUEEN, Beru), and I absolutely love to see such a good happy AU where obikin work out and Palpatine's plans don't. Tomi is always so great at writing the sweetest and most tender smut that's still so hot as well, and this fic is no exception!!

🌷 Amaranthine by @silverxsakura

→ “I missed you,” Anakin tells the side of his cheek. “Force, I missed you so much.”

Obi-Wan chuckles and coaxes him far enough over to give a proper hello kiss. “I’ve missed you too.”

→ rated G, fluff, Palpatine is dead and everything is good, soft and tender, ≈6.2k

→ this is absolutely the sweetest thing imaginable. The writing is stunning and the story is so comforting and heart-wrenching in the best of ways. Perfect for when you need a healthy dose of pure fluff!!

⛰️ Your One, Your Two by @kyberkenobi

→ Ever since the war ended, the seemingly insurmountable space between Anakin and his Master had been growing smaller.

But not in the way Anakin really wants it to.

→ rated E, Anakin doesn't turn to the dark side, not actually unrequited love, getting together, sexual content, ≈6.9k

→ this is so sweet and lovely and yet so hot too, just like most of this author's fics!! Madison's smut is always revolutionary and top-tier, but the emotions and feels are so so good as well. This is one I love to reread and makes me very happy 💖

GFFA during the prequels:

🥀 ambrosia by @inferior-fairy

→ Obi-Wan didn't realize that he was in love with Anakin Skywalker for several months. It was a slow fall- perhaps it had started after Anakin was knighted and Obi-Wan realized he wasn't the young boy he had first met anymore. Perhaps it was when Anakin and him fought side by side on the battlefield, trusting each other completely. Perhaps it was one morning when, in the soft light of dawn, Obi-Wan realized that everything he was was irrevocably tied to Anakin. However it started, Obi-Wan knew that he was in deep.

Anakin Skywalker hadn't ever known a time when he didn't love Obi-Wan Kenobi in some way, shape, or form. It had developed from adoration for the man who trained him to be a Jedi into infatuation when he realized how talented and beautiful his master was, and then into a quiet sort of devotion. He couldn't picture a life without Obi-Wan by his side, and he would have to content himself with whatever love Obi-Wan was willing to give him.

Ambrosia: associated with immortality and used to symbolize reciprocated love between two people; devotion, love returned, will you return my love?

→ rated E, getting together, sexual content, ≈23.7k

→ this is perfect to read if you need some fluff and lovely domestic moments between the boys! It has everything you need: yearning, flower crowns, massages, bathing together, playing with younglings, sparring, and feelings realizations. And some smut too, which Rynae is always fantastic at writing.

💆🏼‍♂️ Intertwined by @obikinn

→ Soon enough, Obi-Wan's hand migrated upwards to Anakin’s head, resting on top as a calming weight, but almost absent-mindedly beginning to pet Anakin’s hair. Anakin melted into the touch, barely noticing when the Nautolan scoffed and walked away, giving up on tearing Anakin away from Obi-Wan.

“I had the situation under control, you know,” Anakin muttered while trying to savor and memorize the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands in his hair. He breathed in Obi-Wan and tried to block the rest of the club out, shrinking the world down to only that divine physical contact and the shine of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Or, 5 times Obi-Wan played with Anakin's hair, and 1 time he realized just how much Anakin enjoyed it.

→ rated E, 5+1, sexual content, hair-pulling, ≈6k

→ my obikin secret santa gift fic from 2020, which is gorgeous and so adorable!! It's everything I could want and I adore Anakin loving when Obi-Wan touches his hair. Each scene always makes me smile so much whenever I reread, and the smut is absolutely delicious too. Poke is great at writing obikin at their best (and sometimes at their most cursed as well).

🌱 climb like peas and beans by @theseptemberist

→ Anakin Skywalker is different in a way that he can't quite name, until he can. Obi-Wan Kenobi never fails to see his apprentice for who he is. And everything changes.

"I may not always be able to remain at your wing, but I won't be far off, and I'll always have your back."

"Obi-Wan, you don't know how many times you've already rescued me."

- Labyrinth of Evil, by James Luceno

→ rated T, pre-relationship, trans Anakin Skywalker, gender dysphoria, incomplete, ≈4.9k

→ okay so technically this isn't obikin (at least as of the first chapter), but this is still such a great look into Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship, in whatever shape or form. This is one of those fics where I always have to keep physically clutching my chest while reading because it makes me feel SO much. Cal is always incredible at showing exactly how Anakin is feeling in a way that is relatable and so very real, with his jumbled mess of confusing emotions and the way Obi-Wan can help him through them.

🍑 Snap, Crackle, Pop by @intermundia

→ Several months into the Clones Wars, Anakin disobeys Obi-Wan's orders during the Battle of Muunilinst and puts himself in grave danger. Returning to his Master, he finds him at his wits end. Obi-Wan asks if Anakin can think of any consequences that would actually work in teaching him a lesson, and is surprised by the answer.

→ rated E, light Dom/sub, spanking, Padawan Anakin, ≈5.2k

→ smut with Padawan Anakin is always some of my favorite to read, and when he's a brat and it involves spanking, it is ✨perfection.✨ This fic has all of that and more, and it's a perfect glimpse into their relationship, the good and the bad and how they're trying to navigate it!! Will is always amazing at creating a dynamic between them that feels very much like a push and pull, until sometimes Obi-Wan gets all dominant and perhaps loses some control in the best way hehe

🥂 Master Kenobi Goes To the Cantina by AuroraExecution, w3djyt

→ Or: 5 Times Anakin Tries to Help His Master Out, and 1 Time It Works

"Obi-Wan does, in fact, go to a cantina periodically, and that time period might average out to every few months, or it did when he actually had the time. However, Obi-Wan would very much prefer not to be reminded of these things by his former Padawan."

→ rated E, 5+1, past anidala, first time, sexual content, ≈5.2k

→ this is so funny while also being so hot!! This is definitely one that I've read over and over again and has influenced the way I write obikin too. A classic!

💫 turn softness to rage, then tears to rain by starwarsyndrome (I_write_fanfiction_sometimes)

→ Anakin Skywalker is the force made flesh, and sometimes that tears him apart at the seams. Obi-Wan has always been able to hold him together. How he does it changes as the years do

→ rated E, the Force as eldritch horror, light Dom/sub, sexual content, ≈5k

→ this is 'fuck the noise of Anakin Skywalker's head' at its finest. So hot but so tender too, and the writing is beautiful ❤️

✂️ when we cut our hair by @shatouto

→ Anakin has never seen her Master cut her hair.

→ rated T, female obikin, character study, post Rako Hardeen, ≈3.7k

→ this is absolutely the most gorgeous, heart-wrenching thing and I love it so so so much. I adore wlw obikin and this is a perfect glimpse into obikin as a whole, and it's so achingly tender and powerful. Shatou's writing is always the most loveliest thing and being able to read it is a treat.

🫂 Stimulation Needed by @gay-cheerios

→ Anakin feels physically deflated. The only noises he can hear is a voice speaking, and the buzzing of some sort of lighting. There’s nothing for him to truly focus on. He feels a lack of something. Something is missing, and it’s absolutely killing him.

→ rated G, neurodivergent Anakin, hurt/comfort, ≈1.5k

→ as you may know, I love ND Anakin and have written him myself, so I absolutely love this fic and it made me so happy. This is the sweetest thing and great to read if you need some comfort yourself, and is exactly what Anakin needs!! ❤️ Blake has other really good ND Anakin fics too!

🎊 Fierce Desire, Desperate Relief by @sopherfly

→ Obi-Wan had been so careful to maintain boundaries between them, for Anakin’s sake as well as his own. He’d guarded his heart so tightly. He’d kept his love, his affection, his attachment so well concealed that sometimes he’d convinced himself that they didn’t exist.

But last night, Anakin had kissed him, and Obi-Wan had kissed him back. Enthusiastically. Maybe even desperately.

All because of the karking mistletoe.

→ rated E, drunken shenanigans, getting together, sexual content with lots of feelings, ≈8.3k

→ this makes my heart ache in the best way!! Soph does an amazing job of blending both the sexy and the vulnerable, of their sweet possession and their tenderness, along with a little bit of awkwardness to add to the realism. It just feels so true to them!

📖 terror of the dune sea by @maragny

→ Absently, Anakin reaches out and steals Ahsoka’s lightsabre, sliding open the casing and beginning to check its components for the cause of the slight wobble he’d noticed earlier. “Where did we leave off?”

“The sarlacc wants to see more of the galaxy and get away from Tatooine, so she leaves her den and makes her way to the palace in Bestine. She’s young and she wants to explore before settling down to den in a desert. On the way, she runs into travellers and overhears them talking about attending a party in the city for some visiting Core-worlders. Then, she eats them and steals their invitation.”

After their mission to Tatooine, Anakin tells Ahsoka a story from his home. Obi-Wan is thoroughly unimpressed.

→ rated T, established relationship, domesticity and fluff, ≈2.3k

→ the pure JOY this fic brings me is insurmountable. I want to print out copies and hand them to people in the street, I love it so much. Mara shows Ahsoka and Anakin's relationship in such a lovely, feel-good way, and the obikin moments are absolutely perfect and make me feel all the feels!!

💘 like the earth, i'm steady (i won't lose it) by oceaniads

→ Anakin doesn't like the scars he has gained in battle. Obi-Wan disagrees.

[for kinktober 2021, day 3: body worship]

→ rated E, porn with feelings, body worship, sexual content, ≈2.1k

→ Maya's writing is always so beautiful and showcases Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship perfectly. This fic in particular is so lovely and tender and I absolutely adore it!!

GFFA but things are different:

🐉 Here There Be Dragons by @twilightofthe

→ Anakin's not afraid of the unknown. He's not. There are two things in his life that he cannot do, and he knows exactly why he can't do them.

Anakin knows why he can't shift into his animal form like every other Jedi. It's because he doesn't want to, it's because he's had a vision of what he would become, and he doesn't want it.

Anakin knows why he can't tell Obi Wan how he feels. It's because he doesn't need a vision to know how that would turn out— even if he may want to do it more than anything…

→ rated T, shapeshifting, injuries, getting together, ≈10.1k

→ Clary's fics always make me smile so, so much. This one is super clever and entertaining and just absolutely delightful, and the shapeshifting works really well here!! There's always so much wonderful humor intertwined through Clary's writing, but so much realistic emotion and heart as well.

📜 devoted by @jasontoddiefor

→ In a world where the Force splits into aspects of itself, deities for all sentients of the galaxy to worship, people cling to their silent gods, wishing they could be just as powerful.

And here is Anakin, who just wants to be human a little longer.

→ rated M, gods & goddesses, angst with a happy ending, canon divergence, ≈34.3k

→ the world building in this fic is superb and the writing is just absolutely gorgeous. This idea is incredible and was executed perfectly, just like every unique idea Eli has. Eli is always amazing at portraying the Jedi in whatever AU they're in, with a deep understanding of the GFFA and the stories within it. This fic is truly special!!

♟️Tristitia by @jswander

→ An alternate timeline where Palpatine focuses his attentions on Obi-Wan Kenobi instead of Anakin Skywalker after the attack on Naboo.

→ rated E, Sith Obi-Wan, Jedi Anakin, sexual content, ≈5k

→ this is a perfect Sith Obi-Wan AU, where Obi-Wan's fall to the dark side feels so natural and inevitable because of the intense possession he feels for Anakin, and that doesn't stop when he and Anakin are apart. Obi-Wan is willing to let the galaxy burn to be with Anakin and it's always so interesting to see that side of him, to see the potential of what he could have been. And Jo's smut is always so decadent and hot as hell, and the passion between them is so vivid.

Modern AU:

🌆 A Place Where We Are Both Named Love by @binaryeclipse

→ After a long, trying week, Anakin asks for what he needs.

→ rated E, modern au, BDSM, caning, subspace, ≈7.8k

→ this is absolutely therapeutic to read. It's such a gorgeous look into Obi-Wan and Anakin's dynamic and seeing how their canon Master/Padawan dynamic translates to a D/s one. This is intense, but also so full of love and domesticity and is exactly what I love to see. Izzy's writing is always so lush and delicious and the description of subspace here is perfection!!

🎙️Talk to me by @obi-wkenobi

→ Recording an audiobook can be horribly dull, but Anakin finds that he doesn't mind when he gets to ogle Obi-Wan Kenobi.

→ rated E, modern setting, audio engineer Anakin + voice actor Obi-Wan, sexual content, ≈4.2k

→ the premise of this is so clever, and it has such a cute and hot ending! It's such a fun read and I love it so much. This author is incredible at writing smut scenes that are so delicious and vivid but also have so much emotion as well, and I can never get enough!!

👨‍👨‍👧‍👦 I'm the Satellite and You're the Sky by @rexismycopilot, @aegir-emblem

→ Ahsoka finds she is not quite as well-suited for an elective college course as she thought and hires a tutor to help her through it. Anakin quickly falls head over heels for him.

→ rated E, modern setting, past anidala, Luke and Leia are toddlers, sexual content, ≈39.3k

→ this is the absolute sweetest thing and is such a treasure to read. I love the exploration of their relationship combined with the twins and the domesticity of it, and the continuations are also well worth the read!! Rex is always so good at showing their relationship in a healthy, loving way, no matter the situation or dynamic!

🍷 True Facts of Truth by @secretsolarsystem

→ Anakin’s upset, at first, when Padmé wakes him up with a call at three in the morning. But when it’s to pick up his drunk husband, well, he doesn’t mind so much.

But then said drunk husband says nothing but utter nonsense during the whole ordeal, and Anakin can’t tell if he loves it or if he’s losing his mind.

(He loves it.) (And he’s losing his mind.)

→ rated T, modern AU, drunken shenanigans, married obikin, fluff and crack, ≈5.1k

→ this is cute domestic married obikin at its finest!! 🥺 Obi-Wan is hilarious in this and all the interactions are just such a joy to read. This feels like obikin that's been "lived in" so to speak, and I absolutely adore it.

🎮 Art Imitates Life by @ragnarlothcat

→ Anakin loves video games but his roommate, Obi-Wan, is hopeless at them. So when Anakin goes out of town he sets Obi-Wan up with the easiest game he knows. How much damage could Obi-Wan even do with a life simulator?

→ rated E, modern AU, getting together, sexual content, ≈11.2k

→ this was the first fic I read of this author's, and I've been hooked on her writing ever since!! This is such a fun premise and it's done so, so well, and it makes me absolutely giddy. I love rereading this because it's guaranteed to make me grin, and she is always amazing at writing Anakin and Obi-Wan's banter and showing their dynamic in an interesting and unique way that's still true to the characters. The smut is always so very good as well!!

🍦snow shack snack attack: what to do when 6 feet of hot man comes by your work every day, a guide by obi-wan kenobi by @gignikinszz

→ "Obi-Wan worked in a tiny shack that sold, in his opinion, far too many shitty, sugary foods and that had no air conditioning. Which was annoying. He was constantly rushing around, he was constantly sweaty, he was constantly in a state of eternal suffering; and it was all at the hands of the Snow Shack! of horror.

Enter: the hottest man he’d ever seen."

Obi-Wan works at a horrible little snow cone shack, and Anakin is a very regular customer who has a lot to say about the horrors of the beach. Romance ensues.

→ rated T, modern AU, summer vacation, ≈5.3k

→ the first time I read this I was surrounded by people and it was SO hard to not burst out laughing every other minute. This author always has the most creative and hilarious AUs, and this particular one is such a joy to read and makes me smile so much!!

🖥️ yesterday's jam by @rhymenoceros

→ “IT, Anakin speaking -”

“It’s Obi-Wan, I’m terribly sorry but the printer seems to have disconnected, I tried doing what you told me -”

Ahsoka picks up the small whiteboard on her desk and writes 0 days since last Kenobi visit as Anakin smiles and says, “Be there in five!”

→ rated T, modern AU, fluff and humor, ≈6.6k

→ this is such a fun and clever AU (like many of this author's fics!!), and this one brings me such joy! I absolutely love how all the characters are portrayed and the premise is the best.

🔧 fixer-upper by @tennessoui

→ Obi-Wan has a broken stove. Anakin is the handyman.

Alright. That's a lie.

Obi-Wan is determined to break his stove, no matter what stands in his way.

Anakin is still the handyman.

→ rated E, modern AU, antagonistic kitchen appliance, sexual content, ≈8.4k

→ Kit's fics are always SUCH a delight to read, and the himbo energy of both Obi-Wan and Anakin is at its peak in her writing. This is so adorable and funny and it works so well!!

📚 put your hands on my cashmere sweater by @artemisthehuntress, @disast3rtransp0rt

→ The librarian hears a quiet smack and the shelf to his left shakes a bit; then Anakin comes around the corner with one hand rubbing at his forehead. He tries to play it cool by answering, “Just looking for something to read in my free time. I don’t really do much after work and video games can’t be all that enriching after you’ve played them eighteen times.”

“Hmm, this is true. And you thought you would find something enriching enough for a mechanical engineering prodigy in the children’s section, did you?”

Obi-Wan is a librarian, Ahsoka is in charge here, Anakin has too much money for his own good, and Qui-Gon is tired of watching his best friend be lonely. Chaos ensues at the annual Coruscant Public Library Staff Halloween Party.

→ rated E, modern AU, librarian Obi-Wan, Halloween, getting together, sexual content, ≈8.5k

→ this is so, SO fun to read. It has everything I adore and I absolutely love the premise, and this Anakin and Obi-Wan are just perfect. Plus, reciting poetry during sex?? Yes please!!

❄️ Didn't Know I Was Lost by @nixie-deangel

→ No, no, he thinks and shakes his head before pinching himself harshly on his cheek. “Ouch,” he muttered to himself, opening his eyes as he ignored the sting. Swallowing, around the lump once again forming in his throat, he simply stares.

Because Obi-wan was still there. Still wrapped up in a perfectly tailored suit and his long beige coat, sitting with no bag in front of his front door.

Or both Obi-wan and Anakin both try to make a grand gesture, but only one of them succeeds at it. Also feelings are discussed.

→ rated T, modern AU, post-break up, getting back together, ≈6k

→ post-break up fics aren't usually ones I gravitate towards, but this one is so so good. Nixie includes so much raw emotion and heart into this, and it feels quite cathartic to read. Their relationship isn't perfect, but they're still willing to try again because they believe in their love, and it's beautiful <3

#if i missed anyone's tumblr user or put in the wrong one please let me know!!#this has literally been a year in the making lol #ive been putting it off bc i dont like leaving anyone out #but here it is!!#check em outttttt #obikin #obikin fic rec #obikin fanfiction #obikin fic #claire's stuff #also sorry i gushed over these so much I can't help it

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soracities · 9 months

Note

ask about friendship: have u finally found ur ppl? if so, how does it feel? is it fulfilling as u expected or even better??

(ive yet find my own ppl. so for now, i have to deal with this feeling of not belonging)

sometimes it's like a warm mug pressed softly to your cheek and you close your eyes to feel the heat radiating and sometimes it's like the sudden flurry of delight when a tiny bird perches outside your window and sometimes it's like the low rhythmic lapping of the sea on a summer evening when everything is still except for the water and sometimes it is something beyond expectations and imaginings. like how, in your head, you can visualise the moon on the water or dappled light falling through the leaves, but every time you actually see it in real life it's a quiet "oh wow" moment because something about it will always feel like revelation, like what was familiar is being rediscovered all over again and in that way you remember why it is so special to you and why you love it so much. beautiful thing about is that there is so much you don't expect but in that is the continual renewal and expansion of your capacity to give love and hold love. you will find your people, anon, and you will find them across various moments in your life, through various decades, in various forms, and in these meetings you will be blessed enough to leave them with something as precious as they leave you 💗

#ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

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tea-moon-ster · 10 months

Text

O'Knutzy Week (late) day 4

O'Knutzy Vacation! In Italy!

So, this was meant to be for O'Knutzy Week (which has been over for a week now, but what is time anyway?) It's the first of two parts (pt2 is close behind!) and also a present for sweet Harzy! Happy bday bud. Have some love and be a lit nerd with me. Chraracters credits to the wonderful @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @oknutzyweek2023.

Prompt: Summer Vacation

“Lo, tell me that I’m a genius.”

“You’re a genius.”

“And that you love me.”

“I love you so, so much.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Leo. He was sitting on the couch with a proud grin on his face, his iPad close to his chest in the way Finn held his books after finishing them. He looked like a kid too excited not to speak, Logan noted. Cute. “You know that I love serenading you, but that grin tells me there’s something else. What is it?”

“So, we’ll be in Nice in August.”

“Ouais.”

“Did you know Nice was part of Italy once?”

Logan’s eyes widened in alarm. “Look, it’s better if it doesn’t come up while we’re there, or with my mother. People don’t like to…”

“No, Lo, I mean. It’s close. Literally so close.”

“Yeah, I went there once or twice as a kid. You…wanna go?”

“Could we?”

Logan went to sit on the armrest of the couch and left a kiss among soft curls. “We can do whatever we want, Peanut.”

Leo’s smile almost blinded him. “Great. Because I found something our Harzy will love.”

Logan let himself slide next to Leo, circling his shoulders with an arm. “Tell me everything.”

“Did he enjoy studying Romanticism in college?”

Logan laughed. “Butter, I distinctly remember him crying over Romanticism in college. More than twice.”

“Perfect."

•••

They spent two weeks in Nice, rediscovering the bliss of taking their time. They started their slow, quiet days with the sun high in the sky, rolling over in bed to find each other despite the heat. Nice was a constant flow of colors, sounds and touches that Finn never wanted to forget. It was the smiles and kisses shared for the pictures, and Logan showing them little villages on the coast and immense lavender fields. It was Leo’s hand dragging them around colorful markets, and it was Logan ordering meals in a quick and slightly different flow of French.

It was everything.

It was…a car?

Finn blinked. And not just some car. It was an old-style, red Chevy that shined under the sun, convertible roof and elegant lines. Finn swore had come out straight of an old movie. Leo and Logan were there, leaning on the car with two pleased, smug smiles plastered on their pretty faces. At their feet, their bags were packed.

“Hop on, sweetheart,” Leo smiled, rolling the slow vowels in his mouth as honey dripping from a spoon. “We’re goin’ on an adventure.”

Finn blinked again. “Guys, what…” The flight home is in a week. That’s not our car. Why are our bags packed? Did I forget something we had planned? Did something happen?

“We,” Logan interrupted his thoughts, opening the backseat’s door for him , “Are taking you on a trip.”

“We are on a trip,” Finn mumbled absently, but he stepped forward. He peeked inside. A pile of books was neatly displayed on the cream leather backseat. He gasped and launched himself, making the car creak eerily.

“Harz,” Leo laughed. “The car is as old as it looks, hun.”

But Finn didn’t pay him any attention, as unusual as it sounds. He was busy studying the various books. A quick scan of the titles made him frown. The Greatest Romantic Poems. Romanticism in Italy. The Gulf of the Poets: inspiration for immortal verses.

“You guys,” Finn breathed. He passed a reverent hand on the book covers, as if he’d just found a treasure.

Logan squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Allons, mon rouge. We have a reservation for dinner.”

The road was a wonderful, continuous landscape of coasts and alps. Finn remembered it all like a dream the moment you wake up. Confused flashes and big emotions you can’t quite put a finger on. He remembered Leo’s tanned arms on the steering wheel and Logan’s hair dancing wildly in the wind. Hands reaching blindly for his knee and flipping the books’ pages and photos to understand what was happening. At one point he caught Leo’s smiling eyes in the review mirror. We can surprise you, too, Harzy. He guessed he’d turned pretty insistent at some point, too, because they explained him everything.

“There’s this bay with the cutest little villages,” Leo said as he raised the convertible roof and silence replaced the roaring wind. The sun was high in the sky, and Finn had gotten plenty of sun in the last few weeks. “And that’s where some of your favorite poets lived for some time. Shelley, Byron, others. And it was pretty close, you know?”

“So, Leo thought we’d make a little surprise trip. He looked it all up.”

“Well, Logan found the car and the books.”

“And,” Logan smiled, “A cooking class on how to make authentic focaccia, tomorrow night.”

Leo gasped without looking away from the road. His hand found Logan’s and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Sweetheart, you didn’t.”

“It’s a cooking class with aperitif. We’ll have spritz with an Italian grandma.”

“I love you so much.”

“Yeah, you do.”

They laughed, but Finn just smiled and leaned back in his seat. He didn’t trust himself with words just yet. He focused on the group of colorful, crumpled houses that were getting bigger and bigger instead, wondering how did the stars align so perfectly that he’d ended up with two boyfriends like that. Two people that knew him so well, and cared so much to make all that fuss just for him. He leaned forward to take Logan’s hand and squeeze Leo’s shoulder, and received a squeeze back and a quick kiss to his hand. They must have understood what was going on with him, because they didn’t say a thing. They always knew what Finn was thinking- even when Finn himself had no idea.

They soon reached their destination, a white villa that looked directly on to the sea and stood regally against the deep blue. Next to the big entrance, a marble plaque. Finn squinted to read it, and his eyes widened. He remembered thinking fuck it as he let the grip in his throat, that had kept him on edge since the beginning of the trip, loose into watery sobs.

“Guys, what the fuck,” he cried. Leo hopped down the car and cooed him into a hug as Logan quickly made his way over and took his place under Finn’s chin. They just held him there, in between them, as he stared at the big house. “The Shelley’s villa. Shelley’s. They lived here.”

“It’s a hotel and museum now,” Leo explained, a smile in his voice and against Finn’s forehead. “Couldn’t let it pass.”

Finn held them tighter. “Of course you couldn’t.”

•••

The next few days passed in an enchanted haze. It was the crashing sound of the waves that woke them up, and later rocked them into gripping bedsheets and each other hard. They explored villages lost in time, enjoying their slow rhythms and careless calm. They kept themselves off the beaten path that the area had traced for tourists, and the villa itself was located out of the nearest town. No one would recognize them. Their days on the Italian coast were full of brighty colored houses that spied the sea, and midnights jump into the dark water to escape the heat.

As it turned out, Leo had kept one last surprise to himself just like Logan. Where the steps of the villa met the sea, a white motorboat was waiting for them. Finn let himself be guided onto the passenger seat as Leo took them far from the rocky shores, and Logan pressed smiles and kisses on him.

But it was on the third day that Finn’s own personal catharsis came to a peak.

He was more or less shoved into the car by a too excited Leo and an amused Logan for a short drive to a village close by. It was beautiful and colorful like the many others they’d seen, but it was at the top of a cliff that the magic was revealed. Old walls stood timeless and climbed up to a little church that faced the sea on its own; and behind the walls, a narrow passage on the side of the rocks went down.

Finn squinted in the sun to read the plaque above the passage. ‘“This grotto was the inspiration of Lord Byron. It records the immortal poet and daring swimmer…’” he trailed off, eyes widening. He turned, looking at the other two with an alarmed frown. “You guys are fucking with me. You… you’re just putting on these plaques in random places. To kill me.”

Logan laughed at that, patting his shoulder. “Ouais, Harzy, that’s exactly how things went. You didn’t notice Knutty slipping out of bed this morning while I was riding the life out of you.”

Finn opened and closed his mouth a few times, even more at loss of word. At least he could pretend the redness on his cheeks was sunburn.

“Stop thinking of this morning, Harz,” Logan called. “Allez, it’s Byon’s cave. You love him. This is the core of your Italian adventure.”

Finn studied the plaque a moment longer, before glancing at the passage with a sudden urgency. “So, this…this is where he composed his most important poems.” His voice trembled a bit.

Leo handed him the tote bag he’d been carrying around with a smile. “Inside there’s a notebook and your favorite pen, some music and a towel.”

Finn frowned. “You’re not coming with me? No, you two are my Italian adventure.”

Long fingers squished his cheeks around a kiss. “We thought we might give you some time, and then come and get you.”

“Come on, Rouge,” Logan came at their side. “We know you’re dying to have your poet moment. We’ll be right here.”

Finn stared at them for a second, disbelievingly, then drew them both into a hug, squeezing as hard as he could. “I love you so much. I love you, love you, love you.”

Carefully, he started to go down the steep passage. Only a slim railing kept him from the risk of falling, but Finn found he couldn’t slow down as he jumped from rock to rock, ignoring Leo and Logan telling him to be careful. After a sharp turn, the cave appeared. Finn kept his breath as he wandered inside, nose up to the dark walls and the landscape the grotto framed.

He felt his eyes burn. He remembered reading again and again poems about that place- so much that it felt a bit like coming home. Hell, he’d done it all; he’d read, recited, written essays and annotated every line of those pages. Of those clouds at the horizon. The fact that he remembered everything so vividly was infinitesimal compared to the realization that Logan remembered, too. Quiet nights in their Harward room, only a small light in between them for Finn to read to him. And Leo…oh, Leo. So careful to everything Finn as much as breathed on. It was easy to picture him putting that trip together in silence, without leaving anything to chance.

He took a seat on a rock, taking it all in. The rocky cliffs, covered by the lively green of pines, ended abruptly into the sea. The gentle rocking of the waves arrived at his ankles. Finn understood what the poets were so desperately trying to communicate through their bleeding lines. What they’d been lacking before they found that paradise, and why their lives and poetry would forever be tied to those shores.

But the only thing Finn could think of was them.

Logan’s smile that morning. And every morning before. And every morning forever.

Leo jumping into the crystal blue water, and his smile resurfacing before anything else. He looked like a nymph appearing from the waves. His own personal muse. His hero that would not end in tragedy.

Finn closed his eyes and breathed.

When he exhaled, messy ink had filled pages on his lap, and the sun had lowered a bit.

“Wow.”

Finn turned, to see Leo and Logan staring mesmerized at the sea, holding hands. Leo raised his free one to him, mouth still half open. Finn got up, and squeezed it as he joined them, keeping quiet as if not to disturb the waves.

They breathed together. Finn’s eyes were wide and a little red. He licked his lips. “I wrote some poems for you."

•

Notes: this was a pretty self indulgent piece, more fluff will come in pt2! Hope you enjoyed!

#lumosinlove #o'knutzyweek2023 #o'knutzy week 2023 #o'knutzy #lou's writing #finn o'hara

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ametrinearrows · 8 months

Text

Rekindling

YN sat on the edge of her bed, her mind tangled in a web of memories and emotions. The rain outside tapped against the windowpane like a soft, rhythmic reminder of the world beyond her thoughts. She hadn't been back to her hometown in years, not since that fateful summer when everything had changed.

Dean Ambrose, her cousin and once her closest friend, leaned against the doorway, his piercing blue eyes studying her with a mix of concern and understanding. "You alright?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

She glanced up at him, a sad smile touching her lips. "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess. It's strange being back here."

Dean nodded, his own gaze distant for a moment. "Tell me about it. This place holds a lot of memories, good and bad."

YN chuckled softly, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "More bad than good, it feels like."

He moved to sit beside her, their shoulders brushing as they shared a companionable silence. "Remember that summer?" Dean mused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "The one where we decided to turn our treehouse into a secret lair?"

YN laughed, the sound carrying a mixture of nostalgia and warmth. "Oh, how could I forget? We were convinced we were saving the world one imaginary villain at a time."

"And that time we tried to build that makeshift raft and ended up stranded in the middle of the pond?" Dean added, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Ugh, don't remind me," she groaned, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "We had to swim back to shore, and I'm pretty sure I swallowed half the pond."

They shared a genuine laugh, the weight of the years seeming to lift for a moment. But then, as the laughter faded, the reality of their estranged relationship settled in.

"We're never going back there, are we?" YN murmured, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

Dean's expression grew serious, his gaze locking onto hers. "Not to that place, no. But maybe…" He paused, as if searching for the right words. "Maybe we can find a way back to each other."

She met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the earnestness she saw in his eyes. "I'd like that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean reached out and gently squeezed her hand, a silent promise passing between them. The rain outside had turned into a soft drizzle, a reflection of the healing that had started to take place within their hearts.

As the afternoon wore on, they stayed by each other's side, sharing stories of the years that had passed, the dreams they'd chased, and the challenges they'd faced. The walls that had grown between them over time seemed to crumble with every word exchanged, replaced by a sense of understanding that had always been there, buried beneath the weight of the past.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the room, YN realized that perhaps returning to the past wasn't about reliving it, but about rediscovering the bond that had once been unbreakable. With Dean by her side, she felt a glimmer of hope that they could overcome the distance that had kept them apart, and maybe, just maybe, build something even stronger from the ruins of their shared memories.

The next night the arena was alive with anticipation, the crowd's cheers reverberating through the air like a thunderous wave. YN YLN stood in the entrance tunnel, her heart pounding in rhythm with the roar of the crowd. Tonight was a night she had been waiting for, a chance to prove herself on a grand stage.

Across the ring awaited Charlotte Flair, a formidable opponent with a legacy as rich as her family's wrestling history. The air crackled with tension as the referee signaled for the match to begin.

YN and Charlotte circled each other, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze that conveyed their determination. The bell rang, and the match was underway.

The opening moments were a whirlwind of grappling and counter moves, each woman showcasing their skills and athleticism. Charlotte's experience was evident as she managed to gain an early advantage, targeting YN's arm with precision. But YN was no pushover, and she fought back with a fiery determination that ignited the crowd's support.

As the match progressed, YN tapped into her reserves of strength and resilience. She dodged Charlotte's signature moves, countered her attacks, and displayed a remarkable agility that had the audience on their feet. The momentum shifted, and YN began to rally, her fighting spirit shining brightly in the ring.

With a surge of adrenaline, YN executed a series of rapid-fire moves that left Charlotte momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, she climbed the turnbuckle and launched herself into the air, executing a picture-perfect crossbody that sent Charlotte crashing to the mat. The crowd erupted in cheers as YN went for the pin.

One, two, and just as the referee's hand was about to strike the mat for the third time, Charlotte kicked out with a resounding force. The match continued, each near fall intensifying the drama in the ring.

YN's determination only grew stronger with every kickout, every submission attempt, and every high-flying move that connected. The energy of the crowd fueled her, reminding her why she loved this sport and the art of storytelling through wrestling.

Finally, after a grueling back-and-forth exchange, YN managed to counter one of Charlotte's signature moves into a surprise roll-up. The referee dropped to the mat, counting the pinfall.

One!

Two!

Three!

The arena exploded with cheers as YN's theme music blared through the speakers. She had done it—she had defeated Charlotte Flair, a defining moment in her wrestling career.

Exhausted but victorious, YN rose to her feet, her arm raised in triumph by the referee. She soaked in the adulation of the crowd, her heart swelling with pride and a sense of accomplishment. In that moment, the years of hard work, dedication, and the journey through writer's block were all worth it.

As YN celebrated her victory, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of her fans, the inspiration drawn from her experiences, and the undeniable power of storytelling that had led her to this exhilarating moment in the ring. And as the arena's lights bathed her in a triumphant glow, YN knew that this was a chapter of her story that would forever be etched in the annals of wrestling history.

The arena was still echoing with the cheers of the crowd as YN stood in the center of the ring, catching her breath after her hard-fought victory over Charlotte Flair. The elation and pride in her heart were palpable, a mix of emotions that surged through her veins. The cheers were joined by chants of her name, a testament to the connection she had built with the audience.

Just as she was about to make her way to the ropes and acknowledge the fans, the familiar sound of Dean Ambrose's theme music hit the speakers. The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the man himself emerged from the backstage area, a wide grin on his face.

Dressed in his signature attire, Dean walked down the ramp with purpose, his gaze fixed on YN. He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a gesture of congratulations and support. The cheers grew louder as he stepped into the ring, his presence commanding attention.

YN's heart swelled at the sight of Dean. Despite the years of distance, their bond had remained unbreakable, a testament to the depth of their connection. As he approached her, she couldn't help but smile, a mixture of surprise and happiness washing over her.

Dean extended the bouquet towards her, a playful smirk on his lips. "I believe these are for the conquering hero," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

YN accepted the flowers with a chuckle, her gaze never leaving his. "You really didn't have to do this," she replied, her heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes.

"I wanted to," Dean said simply, his expression softening. "You did something amazing out there. You proved that all those stories you write aren't just fiction – they're a reflection of the real strength you have."

Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of gratitude and bashfulness. "Thanks, Dean. It means a lot coming from you."

He reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding that words couldn't fully express. "You've always had that fire in you, YN. I've never doubted it."

The crowd continued to cheer, a backdrop of support and celebration for the reunion between these two cousins who had shared so much of their lives together.

As the cheers subsided, Dean's playful smirk returned. "So, what do you say we celebrate this victory? My treat – we'll grab some food after this."

YN's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Are you finally admitting that my writing can inspire real-life victories?"

Dean chuckled, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Hey, if you can write it, you can live it, right?"

With laughter and camaraderie, YN and Dean walked out of the ring together, their shared history and renewed bond evident in their easy banter and shared jokes. The arena lights illuminated their path, casting a glow on their journey beyond the ring – a journey that was marked not only by victories in wrestling, but by the triumphs of their unbreakable connection and the stories they continued to live and create together.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Dean Ambrose #Dean Ambrose x reader #Dean Ambrose imagine #Dean Ambrose imagines #Dean Ambrose fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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project-sekai-facts · 9 months

Note

Is there a list out there of what I like to call mixed/main events? Like how Resounding Twilight Parade is considered a Leo/need event despite being mixed, same thing with Exciting Picnic being a N25 event.

Leo/need currently has the most key story mixed events, with 3. Those being Resounding Twilight Parade (which develops the plot with STANDOUT that was started in Honami's event prior), Singing With You In A World Where Sakura Dance (which develops Ichika's side of that plot leading up to Resonate With You), and In the Corner of A Resonant Town (which covers Shiho's feelings before L/n's one-man show in Get Over It.).

MORE MORE JUMP! has none, but have had some in the past. Beyond Prayers, the Tomorrow We Wish For (where MMJ volunteer as shrine maidens featuring a brief segment covering some of Haruka's past) and Operation♡Secret Valentine! (where Airi helps Saki and Emu make Valentine's treats) were marked as key stories for a few months before having their tags removed, while the recent Airi-centric event, Slapstick cafe ●REC!! (which is about MMJ filming a TV spot at a local cafe), had its tag removed after a few weeks because apparently it was added by mistake. Honestly none of them contribute a huge amount to MMJ's overall plot so removing them is fair. Slapstick cafe probably is most plot relevant despite being the one that was marked as key story by mistake, but the tag being removed probably means it's not very important.

Vivid BAD SQUAD only has one: Ringing Sounds at the Summer Festival. This wasn't marked as a key story until long after it was released, and EN still hasn't received the update which adds the tag. The reason it was retroactively tagged is probably due to covering parts of Akito's backstory, specifically how he got into music, that aren't covered in a unit event.

WonderlandsxShowtime also has one: A Brand New Year! Lion Dance Robot's New Year's Show!. Tsukasa decides to take up acting opportunities outside PXL/WxS at the end of the event, which leads directly into Amidst a Dream, Towards the Shining Stars.

25-Ji, Nightcord de. has 2 mixed event key stories currently, those being Tell Me Your Problems! Exciting Picnic and At This Festival Colored By Twilight. The first one carries on from the end of Secret Distance, developing Mizuki and Ena's relationship before My Footprints, Your Destination, and the latter is where Mafuyu starts to rediscover more of her real self when she gets put on first aid duty at Shibuya festival, which is brought up in later events. Intersecting Melodies, Glowing Warmth used to be tagged as key story, but it was later removed, probably because it was more important to Mafuyu's individual character arc than it was to N25 collectively.

#basically the rules for a mixed event key story tag seem to be that it has to be required reading for unit events.#eg if you don't read picnic or lion dance new year then you're missing context for footprints and amidst a dream #even if the event is important to a character's individual arc that doesn't seem to warrant a tag. hence why intersecting melodies had its #tag removed and other events that provide important character development like Pandemonium / BFST / Fan Festa don't have the key story tag #asks

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justporo · 10 days

Text

Lute notes under the evening sky

A/N: So, my friend Maru dragged me into the discourse around if Rolan plays piano or the lute if he's alone and needs something to relax. Apparently it's the piano but I stand by that the lute is a very cute image! ~~~ High up on a balcony surrounded by lush plants, gauzy curtains softly swayed in the evening breeze, mage lights glimmered as the sun set far below over the Chionthar and made the sky change from blue to warm gold and then fiery red. Seagulls softly laughed from above and the smell on the soft winds brushing past spoke of a refreshing summer rainshower coming soon. Sometimes a firefly or two lost their way and, drawn in by the small magic lights, stayed a while to relax before continuing their journey.

Up here between heaps of plush pillows and the calming aroma of richly blooming lavender, one could forget they were in a city as busy and bustling as Baldur's Gate.

And Rolan surely did when he settled in his little safe haven after a long and busy day.

No one but him and his two siblings Cal and Lia knew of this little spot he had created, just a nice little secret between the three of them.

Today, the spellcrafter’s work had been busy, if not to say frustrating. The weave had proven itself quite resisting to his insisting attempts of persuasions and intellectual charms. Nothing had really flowed or progressed. The tiefling wizard had been left with nothing but feeling unaccomplished.

How he hated that.

But as he had felt himself getting dragged down into a spiral towards a brooding mood, a perpetual pout forming on his lips, as he had sat hunched over his desk full of scrolls and parchments, his eyes had wandered over the lute leaning in the far corner of his study.

The sight had startled him slightly. He hadn't thought of the instrument in a fair while, as was clearly evident by the grey layer of dust dulling the colour of its dark wood. He must’ve forgotten about it in his stress over neverending work projects.

And with that he must’ve also forgotten how soothing it could feel to strum some notes on it.

Starting up slowly until single notes successfully threaded themselves into a song.

A smile tugged on the corners of Rolan's mouth. Maybe he would have to give playing another go. He'd always liked how it felt similar to creating spells. Picking the right threads out of the weave as if plucking single notes, trying them together until they formed a harmonious melody.

The wizard strode over to the instrument, grabbed it, dusted it off quickly and went to sit on his little balcony in the dawning evening. A new wave of eagerness had caught him now.

He sat down on the small bench. The feeling of the lute in his hands was vaguely familiar. But not enough for him to not sit like an overly eager student in class.

Rolan tried playing a few notes - and found the lute horribly out of tune.

With a frustrated groan he tried to get this sorted out first, wondering if maybe this had been a stupid idea.

But he was anything if not committed.

After a while the notes came out much clearer - beautiful!

Sitting up even straighter than before, Rolan began to play slowly. His fingers felt a little rusty wandering over the strings. Like they needed to be reminded of the pleasant sounding tunes they could evoke from this instrument.

The wizard's fingers remembered quickly though, maybe even quicker than his brain. And his ambition and curiosity did the rest. Time flew by as he kept playing.

Soon, he was playing almost fluently. Song after song came back to his mind. And without even noticing himself he quietly hummed along, a smile broadening on his face.

He found his mood had lifted by an incredible amount, previous frustrations over spells not working out forgotten. And so as the sun sank lower and the first stars began to sparkle on the night sky above him, almost as if applauding his rediscovered skill, Rolan began doing something else.

Closing his eyes, he tried to fully concentrate on the sensation of playing. How the strings dug into his fingers and vibrated under his hands as they filled the air with notes, how the tune changed as he only slightly shifted his other hand grabbing an accord. How the whole sensation sent chills through his body.

This was not a song he had learned before. The music slowly forming itself into a melody was fully his own, coming from the heart as much as the mind. It flowed through him, then the instrument and then up to the eagerly waiting stars of the night sky while Rolan forgot almost everything around him. His fingers plucked soft notes, almost like…

His eyes flew open, the tune ebbed off a little abruptly and cacophonously. But a thought had flashed through Rolan's mind. A solution to his spell problem from before, inspired by how he had played the lute and used it to form something out of nothing.

He dashed inside, straight to his desk and the scrolls there, leaving the lute outside with only a sole firefly as company.

But he did so only until he'd worked out his solution. Then the wizard strode back outside, hands propped up on his hips and looking at the lute laying there as someone might do proudly at a successful student.

Rolan grabbed the instrument carefully, almost caressing the wood as he felt grateful for the peace of mind it had given him. He carried it inside and placed it down on his still awfully full desk before he went to bed.

As a reminder to himself, come the next morning, that music worked its magic in its own way.

#bg3 #rolan #bg3 npcs #bg3 rolan #poro writes #poro drabbles

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