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#the lighting thief movie is... something!
medialog may 2k24
not me being on time...
watched
the pilot of star trek: deep space nine - i normally would not list a single episode of television here but (1) it's almost two fucking hours long and (2) i watched this in some ways as one might watch a movie, i.e. at a friend's behalf without any expectation of continuing. i'm not sure that i will continue because as we all know i'm not the biggest fan of space, but i will say that my friend had been on me for ages about this and i truly could not imagine what he thought the appeal might be and then it turned out to be literally about colonialism and trauma so i was like.... okay..... points were made......
i saw the TV glow - on letterboxd i called this "beautiful, aching, strange," which i think sums it up. the visual look of this movie has really stayed with me, as have certain scenes (the neck-drawing scene - one of the most intimate, tender, & vulnerable moments i've ever seen in a movie), as has the way that i didn't really know how to watch it or what it was doing until the very end, which made it sort of curious in the moment but felt right in the end because it's about people who don't know what story they're in (made me think a little, weirdly, of the green knight, which i had a similar experience with). i also just appreciated its loving fidelity, even as that affection is complicated by the text itself, for the aesthetics of the first nickelodeon generation, and the fact that one of the things it's about is the idea of being life-changingly obsessed with something that's objectively kind of stupid.
challengers - "is this movie good" wrong question. right question is "does this movie fuck" and the answer is ABSOLUTELY. i'm gonna say something very controversial which is the more i think about it the more i think the movie was correct to include no real actual sex scenes and that in this specific case i truly believe if there was more fucking it would be less horny. last moment maybe the most purely elation-producing thing i have seen in a movie all year.
thief - i continue to be so glad to have been gently michael mann pilled by @power-chords; he is such an incredibly reliable filmmaker for making movies that are incredibly entertaining and well-made scene-to-scene but always manage to be so much meatier and more interesting in their writing & execution than the plot summary might lead you to assume. like, every time i watch one of his movies about white guys doing crimes, something people make a zillion movies about each year, i'm like, how come they don't all just do it like this guy? this one doesn't quite have the kick-it-to-eleven-something-extra to land it in top-tier mann territory for me personally, but it's still great, with a killer lead performance. it really brought home for me how much his movies are driven by a firm belief in the fact that people have personal philosophies that matter to them in a real way, and that one thing that makes him interesting and distinct is his insistence (here as in heat & blackhat) that that applies not just equally but possibly more so to people who have been incarcerated, and in fact his insistence on viewing incarceration itself as a situation which forces people to develop and articulate their personal philosophies as a matter of psychological survival (while obviously influencing what that philosophy is).
trouble in paradise - my letterboxd review of this was "siri play cowboy like me" and i stand by that: girl and boy meet cute in a classic scammer4scammer relationship, things get complicated on a later trick but ultimately they'll be loyal to each other and no one else until the end. i liked that but lubitsch is also a filmmaker who has turned out a bunch of kick-it-to-eleven movies that really wowed me and this felt a little light compared to the deranged battle-of-the-sexes fantasia bluebeard's eighth wife, the unbelievably dark and unbelievably funny WWII farce to be or not to be, or the OG MMF threesome celebration design for living. this one is just a very nice time, although i do need to stress that if it had been my first lubitsch i probably would have been more impressed, and the highs against which i am measuring it are EXTREMELY high
the bourne identity - did you know that brian cox and julia stiles are both in this movie? think about that for a minute. anyway this is decently fun
the bourne supremacy - kicks like 200% more ass than the first one, much more concerned with delivering awesome set pieces happening as frequently as possible. crazy to watch the shaky-cam action scenes in this after 7 million incoherent shitty shaky-cam action scenes and really savor the fact that even though it FEELS out of control and wild, actually you can tell what is going on with perfect clarity the entire time!
perfect blue - this is like the most incredible movie i have seen in my entire life holy shit????? just an incredible exploration of celebrity, identity, projection, parasocial relationships, the viciousness and dehumanization women in the public eye experience within the entertainment industry and without, often from people who identify as their biggest fans... also one of the only movies (seriously it's like... this and eighth grade? what else is there?) to make meaningful use of the affective/psychological/metaphorical dimension of the internet (in a way that makes clear that with the internet it's hard to suss those three apart), despite the fact that it came out in 1997 and features a scene of someone explaining to the protagonist how to go online. like it came out THAT early and ALSO: features a scene where our constantly dissociating heroine whose grasp on reality is dissolving reads a blog an obsessive stalker has been writing in her voice and uses it to identify what she did that day... like satoshi kon (RIP) your mind... this is also probably the animated movie i've seen that makes the most interesting use of the fact that "real" and "fake" can plausibly look identical in animation. it's a dark and viscerally disturbing watch with some deeply cynical observations and yet ultimately feels very humane and not wholly depressing... it's a miracle to me this movie exists i really can't believe how good it was. everything i've ever wanted happening at once.
furiosa: a mad max saga - i'm so glad chris hemsworth got to be australian in a movie that rocked... darker and slower than fury road, both by design, but i really liked its heaviness, offset (and this is like fury road) by a core humanity that feels like a real commitment. but also it is filled with many scenes that whip unholy amounts of ass.
ball of fire - THIS MOVIE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! okay this is a screwball romcom from 1941 and the premise is: "stuffy but sweet grammarian currently serving as the only hot member of an eight-person team of encyclopedists realizes after a chance encounter with a loquacious garbageman seeking trivia help that his entry on slang is hopelessly outdated and ventures out of project headquarters to learn the language of the people on the streets, where he also finds a nightclub singer with a smart mouth who unbeknownst to him is a gangster's moll tangled in a web of her own." IS THAT NOT THE BEST IDEA FOR A MOVIE YOU HAVE EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE???? everything about this movie is SO delightful. gary cooper is so funny and so cute and sweet blushing his way through a belated sexual awakening, barbara stanwyck is charismatic and sharp winning over both him and the seven old nerds who are silly and cartoonish in the best way (but also one of whom gets a monologue that is genuinely moving but whose obscenity is so thinly veiled i TRULY could not believe the board let it through in '41 lmao). this was screening as part of some partnership with the academy where different branches choose movies to highlight and it was selected by the writers, which makes sense because the screenplay is INCREDIBLE, both structurally and line by line. it's somehow both gonzo and intimate, weaving a goofy gangster plot that in the screwball setting reads almost like a parody of noir (the chief goon is named "pastrami" lmao) in at the edges of a genuinely tender love story of the very very best kind, which is two people who surprise each other and consequently themselves, who mutually change each other but not in a way that suggests either of them ever needed to be fixed... and the way this happens is largely through LANGUAGE!! the script is sooo in love with language itself, seeing poetry both in fast-talking street-corner patter and in a line from richard iii that appears in a scene that remains hilarious even as it's also so heart-rending that it elicited not one but two vocal oh's from the person behind me. like, it's so crucial that cooper's character's attitude towards all the slang he's missed while holed up with his books is the excitement of a botanist discovering a new species of fern, totally devoid of condescension or scorn (there's a scene where he tries to understand the meaning of "corny".... it's just so good). this movie felt like a magic trick!!! i just coudn't get over it!!! i was floating on air!!! i was thinking about it all day!!! love yourself and watch it as soon as you're able!!!
ONGOING: interview with the vampire season 2 - Finally Some Good Fucking Food
read
andy greenwald, nothing feels good: punk rock, teenagers, and emo - when i was working on the taylor post i asked nick if the starting line qualified as emo and he responded by pulling this book off the shelf and seeing if they were mentioned (they are, several times). i flipped through it for some additional context and decided to read it for real because i was in the mood for some light nonfiction and it seemed fun and also i know andy greenwald as half of one of the ringer podcasts (the watch, which discusses TV; i had no idea he used to be a music guy). anyway i liked this more than i expected to honestly! you can tell that greenwald genuinely admires the work of many of the bands mentioned, both in emo's hardcore antecedents and in the scene/movement/trend itself (and he devotes a lot of space to the ways emo is all three of those in different ways or sometimes all at once), but you also get the sense that he's approaching this more as a journalist than as a critic, and his primary interest is less the music than the experience of the bands and especially of the fans; it's an oversimplification to say that his argument about emo is that it brings the catharsis of punk to uncool normie teens (given the origin point of my journey with this book, yes, i did constantly find myself stumbling across sentences that sounded like things a person could write about taylor swift lmao), but that's kind of the idea, and crucial here is that greenwald thinks it's good and special that these kids have something that means so much to them, and that's true regardless of the music's artistic merits, which obviously appeals a lot to me, a person whose now deleted perblog had a running tag called #avril lavigne was my kathleen hanna. the sections where he interviews actual teenagers made me choke up... multiple times. i was also kind of pleasantly surprised by how well most of the musicians he interviews come off. a lot of attention is given to chris carrabba of dashboard confessional (not really "of," apparently it's like the mountain goats where the name refers to A Guy and other people also appear variously...) who comes across as sincere and also sincerely actually kind of tormented and unwell to the extent that i found myself like concerned about his mental health, which was not an emotion i expected to ever feel... also the final two chapters are about the internet and the last chapter specifically is about livejournal and as someone who got on liveournal as a teenager the year this book came out, greenwald is more astute about the draw of blogging for young people with many feelings than basically anyone i read pontificating on the topic in high school and maybe anyone since - i'm really hard-pressed to come up with something About The Internet i've read that made me feel "yes! this is true and resonant to my experience of Online!" as much as this did.
courtney summers, the project - summers is one of a handful of authors i actively follow, and this is the first of two books of hers i've missed while having several off-years for reading. like a special gift for me personally, it's about cults, and she nails it; the book has two timelines, one in the present and one in the past, each following one of a pair of sisters drawn into the cult at a different time, in a different way, for different reasons - but to horrifying ends just the same. summers has talked in interviews and in her newsletter about wanting to write books that push at the empathy gap for imperfect victims, and this one pushes it as far as she's ever gone; i just think it's so, so, so great that she asks the reader to watch two different vulnerable people fall for manipulation she knows the reader will be able to spot a mile away and refuses to judge her characters for being manipulated. (also as someone with Some Interest In Cults, but no personal experience... for what it's worth, i think she really nailed the organization, which she says is inspired primarily by the people's temple but will ring familiar to others as well because on a certain level all these places are the same, as well as the charismatic figure at its center. and i thought it was kinda baller to make it an explicitly christian cult.) it's also her plottiest book yet, even more so than sadie, but still retains her knife-sharp interiority. at one point in this book a character who's a journalist says something like "the closer to the bone you get, the less you can be denied," which is an apt a mission statement as she's ever written for herself, and a pretty good one if you're on the market.
listened
dula lipa, radical optimism - dua lipa is to me the living embodiment of that line from the other two, "thank you, john legend! another b-plus!" and, indeed, this album is: Fine
billie eilish, hit me hard and soft - i really wanted to adore this the way i adored happier than ever, which totally blew me away, but i didn't - it's a little too polished, a little too respectable as Well Crafted Pop (as opposed to happier than ever which sort of flirted with respectability vis a vis its subject matter and the oldies influence on its several slower tracks, but which as a project was so eclectic and brimming with ambition that it still felt really electric). but, i mean, it's still good - i really think eilish is top-tier as a songwriter and her lyricism remains distinctive (who else would open her sweetest and most joyful love song yet with a verse saying essentially "kill me if you're gone because i would have no reason to live"?),, and finneas's glossy sheen is never anything less than pleasant to lsiten to - and obviously one of the most famous figures in pop right now putting out a single about how she loves eating pussy and spoiling the shit out of her girlfriend is an unmitigated win. my favorite track is probably the after-album release of the extended cut of the bizarre eurotrash song tucked into the last two minutes of some other normal song, which makes no sense to exist but delights me.
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octobergrover · 5 months
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i just really want to know why Luke has a full on gaming set up in his tent(???) in the lighting thief movie. Like, I get it, hermes kids smuggle shit into camp, but how did Luke smuggle in TWO pretty big TVs, like two computer monitors, and a home console into his tent(??) without Chiron or Mr. D noticing. He doesn't even play his video game with headphones on! This movie has me so confused guys
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fawnindawn · 2 months
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the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)
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Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff
masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!
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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."
"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.
Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.
Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.
Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.
_
It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.
Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.
"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."
Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.
Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?
You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.
The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.
"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.
He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.
"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."
With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.
"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.
You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.
You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.
"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.
After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."
You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.
You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.
"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"
You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.
Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"
He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.
You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.
His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.
"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."
Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.
Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.
You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"
He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."
He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."
You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"
You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.
"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."
"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"
"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.
"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."
"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."
"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."
"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."
Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."
Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.
"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.
You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."
"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."
He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.
You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.
"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."
"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."
Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?
Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.
"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.
"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”
He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.
"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."
He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."
You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."
He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"
"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."
"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."
"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"
"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.
"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."
"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."
You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"
He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
_
"What are you smiling about?"
You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.
"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."
"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."
He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."
You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.
"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."
He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."
You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.
a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.
taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 5 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
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Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 1,542
Warnings | +18, smut dubcon(?), somnophilia, pussy worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, fingering, male masturbation, Jungkook is desperately horny, cumming on her, body worship, breast/nipples worship, explicit language and descriptions, kidnapping, Jungkook is absolutely obsessed, this is not for minors.
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This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.
If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.
She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.
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➢ Author's Note | Third chapter of Happy Ending arrived, enjoy your reading, my dears 🥰❤
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Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End
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That same night, a shadow wandered around the young woman's apartment. It had not been difficult to get there, as he had already thought, those windows were too old and easy to force, he could not allow Y/N to live in such a place. If a novice like him had managed to open the window facing the kitchen so quickly, then an experienced thief would have been able to do even better. He looked around, scrutinizing every nook and cranny, being very careful not to make any noise, noticed a pizza box on the table, with Coke cans scattered around, was very careful not to step on a single one - mentally cursing at the girl's mess - and headed for what he guessed was her room.
He opened the door slightly, which squeaked faintly because of rust, but that was not enough to wake the girl who lived in the apartment. Y/N must have been a very heavy sleeper, the boy thought. Jungkook was there for one simple reason, to take Y/N away and make her live a better life with him. Normally an art professor would not have made that much money, but professor was not his only job, he thought with a grin. The school's principal, Kim Seokjin, had his hands in everything, and someone like Jungkook was right for him. He then looked around, studying the environment to get an idea about his beloved's tastes, finding a variety of references to anime and manga, as well as books and flowers. Nothing that hinted at a passion for fashion, but of that Jungkook did not worry, he would see to it that she was dressed cute and perfect, just for the pleasure of his eyes.
Reaching just to one side of the single bed, he stared at Y/N sleeping blissfully with only part of the blanket to give her warmth, the tender lower lip protruded invitingly and Jungkook felt the urge to squeeze it between his teeth, tasting its softness. He shivered slightly when he took a flap of the blanket, pulling it aside. He slowly uncovered Y/N's body, revealing something that made the man's brain go haywire. Y/N slept in only a tank top and panties even in winter. It was a comfortable habit for the girl, but for Jungkook it was like a wedding invitation, literally. His eyes did not break away from the bare skin in the slightest while enough light filtered through the window to make that vision heavenly for him.
He slowly knelt down, a hand flew within inches of her calves, he did not know whether to touch her that way or not, she was not conscious, it would not be right, would it? The boy found himself gritting his teeth, it would only be a caress, a gentle caress. He gently laid his fingers on one calf, held his breath at the smooth sensation of her skin against his fingertips and continued with the slow ascent, felt his lips dry up when, having reached her knee, Y/N decided of her own volition to spread her leg wide, leaving a wide view of her intimacy covered by the blue panties, at which point Jungkook's blood concentrated in one spot. He took that sign as a Y/N response to continue. He climbed onto the bed gently, positioning himself right on top of the young woman, his hand opening on her inner thigh, the softest and most tender part of her leg, felt that buttery texture under his fingers and did the same with the other, thus bringing both legs apart for him, he sent down watering at that scene so erotic that it nearly drove him mad.
He felt powerful as never before in his life, he could do anything he wanted to her and she would continue to sleep blissfully. The young girl's tightly closed eyelids cast lash shadows across her cheeks, she was so serene in sleep that Jungkook found her enchanting, so much so that he leaned over her, stealing a sweet kiss on her cheek, in love with that pure little fairy of his. His. He watched for a possible reaction, but she continued to sleep. Not content, he descended lower, to the tender breasts enclosed in that wide camisole, lifted the pale fabric finding himself face to face with what, he knew, would become his favorite damnation, studied with hungry eyes the perfect color of those still soft and relaxed little buttons, barely touching with a finger the velvety, graceful circle of an areola. He trapped the tender nipple with his lips, sucking it tenderly inside his warm, moist mouth, felt it plump under the strokes of his tongue and found himself nibbling on it without too much pressure, sending small, sweet twinges to the young girl's sleeping body. Y/N, for her part, turned her head slightly, opening her mouth slightly in a moan that her brain could not fully register.
Jungkook cupped the other breast, stimulating it with the tip of a finger, squeezing it lightly before devoting his mouth to it as well, and the more he engulfed that tender flesh, the more his cock throbbed uninterruptedly in search of its dose of forbidden caresses. A pop resounded from the room as he let go of his grip on the young girl's now abused nipple, went down with moist kisses all along the girl's chest, with his sweet prey's breathing rising in response, thus reaching the lower abdomen licking a small trail around her navel, moaning silently at the taste of that skin that he would also have gladly bitten into, but he could not risk waking the girl up in the midst of his fun, so he merely descended lower and lower, reaching to the fabric of her panties. With the tip of his nose he pressed against her covered pussy, ecstatically inhaling the natural scent of her essence, he felt himself salivating and his own boxers got a little wet, he pressed his erection against the mattress moving slightly to give himself some relief, not satisfied he peeled back the fabric of the panties and almost thought he would come there on the spot. The rosy flesh of the folds opened under the pressure of his index finger, revealing the swollen clitoris and the sweet slit from which sweet transparent liquid was already leaking.
Jungkook gave a long lick that from the young woman's narrow entrance reached up to her clitoris, encircling it with the tip in a tender and insistent caress; on another occasion the boy would have cried out in the most bewitching pleasure, but he forced himself to enjoy that taste in silence. Y/N unknowingly thrust his hips into the man's ravenous mouth in a soft, slow rhythm that delighted Jungkook. That to him was the ultimate proof that the girl accepted his intimate attentions without regret. He used two fingers to stimulate the young woman's lit and pulsating clitoris, continuing with the tip of his tongue to penetrate the tight and wet slit, sucking the small quivering lips together with the unconscious girl's legs, continuing to poke and pull at that pearl now stiff and ready to explode between his index finger and thumb, teasing the soft flesh ever more insistently. "Mm... Ah...!" the girl's back arched slightly, exposing more and more of her intimacy to the boy, her body tried to keep up with that forbidden pleasure, in her mind Y/N was dreaming, dreaming of Jungkook and in her dream the boy was doing to her just what the real Jungkook was joyfully enacting in reality.
He willingly swallowed the young girl's fluids with yet another tongue caress, then replaced his fingers with the latter, cradling the pulsating clitoris in velvety lashings, penetrating the now-soaked entrance with his fingertips, the girl rigidly propped her feet up on the mattress, opening her mouth wide and frowning in a shrill howl, which was prolonged when her clitoris succumbed to extreme pleasure following a light bite from the boy, his teeth weakly crushing that taut pearl, now at the 'extreme and that gesture was enough to release its violent contained pleasure. Jungkook detached himself from Y/N's quivering body, lowering his pants and boxer shorts, took his already dripping cum cock in his hand and leaned over Y/N beginning to pump himself several times, ran his thumb over the scarlet tip increasing the speed of his thrusts, before pouring out a large amount of cum with a choked cry, smearing the girl's breasts and panties with the sticky white liquid. He looked at his work of art with devotion and affection, stroking his cock in an attempt not to let up again on those gentle discharges of pleasure, until it became completely soft again. He adjusted his clothes, retrieving tissues from the girl's bedside table to wipe off his semen, silently praying that the sweet, spicy taste of Y/N would never disappear from his tongue.
God, he would have taken her again and again on that bed, but he shook his head to himself , Y/N deserved better and wanted her awake when it happened. He wanted her to see with her own eyes how much love he would be able to give her.
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monsterfuker3000 · 4 months
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You Call the Shots, Babe ༺♡༻
Hi kittens, mommy’s had a rough one and that’s why it’s been since October since I published anything lol. My now-ex boyfriend broke up with me and it thrust me head first into my man-hating era and I couldn’t write to save my life. I’m not happy with this fic but I had to publish SOMETHING bc it’s been rotting in my WIP folder forever. Enjoy, my stinkies 🩷
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WARNINGS: p in v sex, perv!Leon, unprotected sex, mentions of male masturbation, a lil bit of footjob action/very light CBT, Leon is a two pump chump I’m sorry, creampie as always, uhhh you degrade him and stuff but he’s Leon so he gets off to that, idk RE2R Leon strikes me as a panty thief who would get off on being told he’s a pervert so that’s what I wrote lol
Word count: 3k words of Leon being a perv
“Leon?” you called.
“Yes?”
“Why do you have my fucking panties?”
Movie night with Leon was always unnecessarily complicated. It very nearly felt like it took him hours to get settled; he needed the right snacks for the two of you, the right drinks, the right comfy clothes, the right movie. If he put much more effort into every movie night, it would start to feel like a date. Not that he’d mind that.
You, however, seemed like you would mind. He had tried like hell to hint to you that he wanted something more than friendship; brushing his hand against yours whenever he could, resting his hand at the small of your back in a manner that was much more than friendly, letting his gazes linger a bit longer than they needed to. But you? Dear, distant, unmovable you? Never once reciprocated his affections. Leon was desperate for you.
That’s why the movie nights came about; they were the closest Leon could get to a date night, and by God did he push the envelope. He’d spend every movie night with an arm around your shoulder, both of you under the same blanket. He’d behave himself, keep his hand a where they belonged, but all the while he’d have to try like hell to conceal the hard-on he’d be sporting every time. He felt pathetic, jerking off to the thought of you every night after you’d leave. That’s when he started stealing your panties.
It started out with just one pair he’d seen discarded on top of your hamper in your room, too careless to hide it before he came over. He’d snuck them into his pocket, vowing to himself they he would return them the next time he was at your place. Only he didn’t return them, and he did do it again.
He jumped at every chance to spend time at your place instead of his, sneaking another pair from you nearly every time. You had to be wondering where they kept going, but as long as his operation was still going off without a hitch, he was going to keep stealing them.
Then came the hitch.
You had come over for the aforementioned movie night, barging in after work without knocking like you owned the place, not that Leon minded.
“Lee!” You whined, “It’s cold out! How come you have to live so far from where I work?” You continued your lament as you kicked off your shoes by the door and walked further into the apartment toward the kitchen. Leon poked his head out from the doorway, pointing to his bedroom door.
“Go grab one of my hoodies or something if you’re cold, I’m making popcorn, so help yourself!” He busied himself with the popcorn once again as he heard you turn and walk toward his room, thanking him as you walked away.
“Leon?” you called.
“Yes?”
“Why do you have my fucking panties?”
His heart immediately dropped into his stomach, remembering just how many pairs of your used panties were tucked away in his drawer. The volume and variety would have been impressive if he didn’t feel downright creepy.
He slunk towards his room like a child expecting to be scolded, and his face reddened when he stepped into the doorway. You had your arms crossed, one of his favorite pairs of your panties dangling from one finger
It was a little baby-pink number; cotton, his favorite, with delicate lace around waistband that he couldn’t get enough of. Memories flashed through his head of just what perverted things he’d done with the scraps of cloth spilling out of the drawer you’d apparently yanked open.
He loved to jerk off with them wrapped around his cock, eyes closed and head falling back, sometimes with another pair pressed to his nose to inhale your scent. The worst thing he did, however, embarrassed even him; he loved to jerk off directly into the crotch of your panties, imagining that the reason they were covered in his cum was because it had spilled out of you. This was his favorite of all of his dirty fantasies about you, and imagining that the panties in his hand were soiled because you’d finally let him fuck you would often make him have to touch himself a second time.
“I saw these sticking out of your drawer, and I thought they looked familiar,” you said flatly.
He forced himself to return to the present at your words, fidgeting a bit to try to hide the half-chub that refused to go down even in the face of such profound shame. You cocked an eyebrow, looking all too relaxed given the situation the two of you were in.
“I asked you a question, Leon,” you reminded him. “Why do you have so many pairs of my panties? And I know theyre mine, don’t try to tell me they aren’t,’ you added, effectively crushing to death the only chance at redemption he thought he might have.
“Um, well. . .” He trailed off immediately, completely unable to tear his eyes away from the panties swinging from your hand, not sure how he was going to get out of this one. “I don’t- I. . . It’s beacuse-“
“I know why you have them,” you cut him off, his eyes finally snapping up to meet yours before the embarrassment made him duck away again. “It’s because youre a fucking pervert.”
His heart dropped; this was it. You were disgusted with him, you were going to leave his apartment and never come back, you were going to tell everyone you knew that he was a disgusting panty thief, never to be trusted. However, there was no hiding the full-blown hard-on he was now sporting, thanks to the insult. His face reddened more, if that was even possible. Your eyes flicked down to his crotch, and the scowl you’d been wearing slowly turned into a smirk.
“I’m so sorry, I-“ he began, but you cut him off yet again.
“You’re not sorry you did it,” you salked toward him. “You’re sorry you got caught.’ You were right on the money, as usual, but before Leon could even try to get a word in edgewise, you spoke again. “I think you need to be punished.”
What?
His confusion must have been clear on his face, because you continued.
“What, cat got your tongue?” You teased. “Take your pants off, Leon,” you said. It very obviously wasnt a request.
This felt like a trap to Leon, but he figured things couldn’t get any worse, and so help him he was going to do whatever you asked of him in the hopes it might smooth things over. He cleared his throat, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants as you began to slowly circle around him. He felt very much like a cornered animal.
“O-okay,” he finally spoke, albeit haltingly as he slowly pulled at the tie on his pants.
“Tell me, Lee, what have you been doing with all the panties you’ve been stealing, hm? Be specific. And hurry up with your pants, I don’t like waiting when im already impatient.”
God, what were you going to do to him? He tried like hell not to very his hopes up, but he hoped to God this was going to end well for him.
“W-well,” he began, sliding his pants off as he spoke, nervous but still eager to find out what was going to happen next. “I mean, I jack off with them. . .” He trailed off, clearly not wanting to be any more forthcoming than that. He chanced a look at your face again, hoping what little he told you was sufficient, but of course not.
“Tell me more, Lee. And look at me when you do it,” you added. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his eyes on you while he spoke.
“I wrap them around. . . Around my cock and I, well, I jack off with them, ‘nd then I. . .” He trailed off yet again, cheeks burning bright red, afraid to try your patience but far too embarrassed to get it all out at once. He took a deep breath. “And I like to. . . To finish in the crotch,’ he finally finished.
“Why?” You asked simply. He wasnt prepared to answer that one. He cleared his throat again, and mumbled something, turning away. “Come again?” You asked. He huffed out a breath and looked back up at you, tears very nearly welling up in his eyes from the humiliation but still hard as a rock.
“I said I like to imagine theyre filled with my cum because you put them back on after I fucked you!” He nearly yelled, frustrated with the interrogation. A few embarrassed tears he hadn’t even noticed finally spilled from his eyes and he wiped them away roughly with his sleeve, knowing he had no right to cry.
“I figured,” you replied flatly. How were you staying so calm about this? You’d just found out your best friend had been stealing your panties for the past few months! Leon opened his mouth to ask you just this, but you moved lighting-quick, stuffing the panties into his open mouth and covering it with your hand, swatting away hips hands when he instinctively reached up to push you away.
Holy shit. You just stuffed your panties in his mouth.
“Kneel,” you told him, and his knees were on the floor without a second’s hesitation, placing his hands down on the tops of his thighs. You walked around him, adding the instruction to be careful not to spit them out, and he could hear you once again digging around in the drawer behind him. you gasped behind him, reaching out from behind him to range another pair inches from his nose before snatching it back.
“Leon, these are my favorite!” You cried indignantly. “I’ve been looking for them forever, you pervert,’ you added. God, there was that word again. It absolutely shouldn’t have made his cock twitch in his boxers, but it did anyway. “Hands behind your back,” you instructed him, and he obeyed, wondering what you had in mind. His eyes widened when he felt you twist that second pair of panties around his wrists, essentially improvising a pair of handcuffs. You walked around him again to stand in front of him, and he looked up at you expectantly, tears long-dried. “Try not to rip those, I like them,” you said simply, before sitting on his bed and pressing your socked foot to his crotch without another warning.
He cried out as best he could with a mouthful of your panties, nearly doubling over from the sensation. You were pressing harder than should have been pleasurable, but between how wound up you had him and how long he’d wanted you to touch his cock, he was still in heaven. As you slid your foot up his cock, he wished with everything in him that he didn’t still have his boxers on; that he could feel the friction and not just the pressure, delicious as it was. You leaned back, surveying your work, all the while still working your foot up and down his cock.
“You like that, Leon?” You teased, propped up on your hands. Of course he liked that. Of course you knew he liked that, but how could you not tease him like this?
Your curled your toes gently over the head of his cock, squeezing a bit with your toes. He was sensitive, so fucking sensitive, and he bucked up into your touch with another muffled cry.
“Ah-ah,” you admonished him. “I didn’t say you could move.”
Leon whined again at this, worried you were going to stop touching him, but far too afraid of that prospect to do anything about it.
Instead of withdrawing your foot Ike he expected, you pressed the ball of your foot against his cock, hard. You meant this as a punishment, of course, but poor Leon was so very on edge that he came in his boxers, shaking as he dampened the crotch of them along with your foot.
“Leon. . .” You sighed with a deep frown, one that would have made his heart clench had all his blood not been allocated elsewhere. “You really are a pervert,” you scolded. God, there was that word again. Leon knew at this point that this was all a game, but he couldn’t help the way that word made him feel. Pathetic. Dirty. Unbelievably horny.
You stood, looming over him as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
“I was worried about the rest of my plans for you, but it looks like youre still hard,” you remarked, nudging his overly sensitive cock with your foot and pulling a surprised yelp from him. To his shock, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them off along with your panties all in one go. The way his eyes flicked over to the panties you discarded to the side wasnt lost on you.
“Don’t be greedy, Leon. You have more than enough,” you teased. You knelt on the ground in front of him, pushing against his chest and knocking him off balance to sit flat on the floor with his back to his dresser, hands still bound behind him with your panties. You straddled him, hovering over his cock so close that he could feel the heat and wetness of your pussy. He didn’t dare move after what happened last time.
You decided to grant him just a little relief, using your hand to slide his cock shallowly through your folds, Upand down, up and down. His head hit the dresser behind him with a thunk, a deep groan tearing itself from his throat. Then finally, fucking finally, you slid down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt.
He tore his eyes away from the ceiling, and they nearly popped out of his head as he took in the sight in front of him. His cock had completely disappeared inside of you, your clit resting against his pelvis. He was mesmerized for just a moment before you lifted your hips and slammed them back down, earning another muffled shout from him as his head hit the dresser again.
You began a brutal pace right off the bat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your moans; yours were completely unbridled, his were still dampened by the panties he absolutely wasnt spitting out.
You reached up to place a hand against his cheek, patting it softly before pulling your hand back and delivering an earnest slap. It took him by surprise and he bucked into you again, but you seemed to let that transgression slide. You squeezed his cheeks with one hand, forcing him to look at you.
“Fucking disgusting, Leon. I should spit in your face for stealing and doing such nasty shit with my things,” you said through gritted teeth, hips still rolling against him. God, he was going to cum way too soon again. Sweat rolled down the side of his face with the effort he was exerting trying to hold off his orgasm.
“‘M gonna cum,” you moaned, and it was like he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. “You wanna cum in me Leon? You wanna fill me up with your cum? Of course you do, you fucking sicko,” and Leon knew he had just seconds.
Finally, with a last, particularly strong roll of your hips, you came. As your pussy pulsed around him, Leon came as well, filling you with his cum and thrusting up into you in earnest now, though he was too fucked-out to notice and correct himself.
As soon as your breathing evened a bit, you stood abruptly, the friction against Leon’s softening cock startling him along with the overstimulation. You hooked the panties in his mouth with your finger to yank them out and he choked a bit, his mouth dry. He was speechless as you shook out the slightly damp panties and slid them on with a snap of the waistband.
You bent over in front of him, showing him that the thin gusset of the panties was wet enough with his spit that it had gone slightly translucent. He could see your pussy lips through the wet fabric, and nearly passed out when he watched the wet patch spread as his cum began to spill out of you and onto the panties, just like he’d jacked off to so many times. If he wasn’t so mindful of not wanting to rip the panties that were still wrapped around his wrists, he probably would have pulled you toward him to fill you up with even more of his cum.
You walked around behind him to untangle him and free his arms. As soon as you did though, his hair stood on end remembering what he’d been caught with earlier. He whirled around, still on his knees to look up at you with big, pleading blue eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry, I know it’s gross that I was taking your panties-“
“Leon,” you interrupted him. “Why do you think my used panties were always on the top of my hamper? No girl would leave her panties visible like that if she knows someone is coming over. I wanted you to find them.” You turned and walked out toward the kitchen before turning back to him and seeing his jaw practically on the ground again. “You might wanna check on your popcorn, Lee.”
I’m on twelve Vicodins smoking on Scooby-Doo dick
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slvt4felix · 3 months
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♡ I See the Light ♡
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Pairing -> lostprince!felix x thief!reader WC -> ~6,700 words Includes -> tangled!au, violence? (frying pan incident), reader is a criminal, fem!reader, lowkey abusive and manipulative "mother", kidnapping, magic, Bbokari as Pascal Summary -> After stealing a particularly precious item from the King and Queen, the royal guards push you deep into the woods during an exhilarating chase. You stumble across an interesting tower and start to climb, unaware of what you will come across once you reach the inside. Or rather, who you will come across and how this unique person will completely change the trajectory of your life. Author's Note -> I am like the biggest fan of Tangled. It's my all time favorite Disney movie. And when I think of Felix the first thing that comes to mind is sunshine and I feel like he is so Rapunzel coded. So yeah... don't mind that this fic is literally just all my favorite things combined. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also this was only supposed to be one part, but I'm slowly starting to realize I'm really bad at writing short stories... so this story will definitely be multiple parts!
Masterlist ♡ Next Part
You pant, desperately trying to catch your breath as your legs move faster than they ever have before. They are starting to ache, along with your feet, your lungs, and just about everywhere else. But you can't stop, not right now. Not with the heavy footsteps just a few feet behind you and horses loud in the distance.
You stole something. Well, technically you have stolen many things, but what can you say? You were an orphan and never given the chance to make money more nobly. And this time, the object was just something you couldn't pass up.
You keep running, eyes trained directly in front of you. You desperately want to look behind you to see how much time you have, see just how much danger you're in, but the adrenaline and fear have you locked in. You won't stop, won't glance back at the angry guards until you manage to get some headway.
Your boot-clad feet heavily trample the ground underneath you, damaging the delicate blades of grass and petals of flowers that seem to multiply by the second. If only you were able to look down, you would notice the nature changing subtly underneath you. The rocky area you were previously in changed into a thick forest, covered in clover and wildflower.
If you weren't in this situation, perhaps you would've taken the moment to admire it. To take in your surroundings, breathing in the beauty of nature. But again, now's not the time. Maybe one day you will have the ability to stop and smell the flowers, but today there are more important matters at hand.
You hear a twig snap behind you and an unsettling crash. You instantly realize it to be a branch in the path that you had just jumped over. Luckily enough, after years of training, running, and stealing you can navigate your way through many terrains if needed. However, it seems like the guards behind you weren't so lucky. You swiftly turn your head and find exactly what you expect. The two burly men who had been hot on your trail now lay on a pile on the grass as the distance grows between you and them. You chuckle a bit to yourself upon realizing they must have dropped like dominos, one tripping with the other landing right on top. At this point, you were thankful for anything that could make you laugh.
Looking back ahead of you, you zone back into your mission. Your body aching to take a breather. You take a sharp turn, long used to getting out of these situations. This route change leads you down a steep hill. You almost tumble all the way down, but thankfully your dark brown boots have enough traction on them to help you safely make your way down. You jump off the last little way because what's escaping without a little extra adventure.
Now being back on the soft flat grass, you take in your surroundings, analyzing to try to make the best choice. The guys weren't likely to stay down for too long, so you have to make a decision and fast. You don't have time to try to get ahead, they would catch up in no time.
You realize you have been running for a while to try to escape the men. You weren't keeping track, but this is about as far as you have ever made it outside the kingdom. Everything looks untouched, giving off the vibes that maybe you shouldn't be here. It's ethereal looking, yet a bit unsettling at how everything seems to be in perfect harmony. The branches on the trees sway harshly in the wind and feels as if you were the one to disturb the peace, your presence entirely unwelcome.
You shake off the thoughts and roll your shoulders a bit. This was not the time for superstitions or paranoia.
'Maybe if those stupid guards hadn't chased me for so long,' you think bitterly. But in reality, you know you can't hold it against them. It's just their job, just like this is yours. It's just the way it is.
Typically you would have everything completely planned out. Especially the escape route. But, there was really no way to prepare for this. You usually don't get caught soon enough to actually get chased.
Panic floods your body as you begin to hear angry voices again. You're running out of time. The goal today was not to go to prison. You sigh angrily realizing there really isn't any simple escape route this time around. Before your brain even processes it, your feet are moving on their own accord, simply in fight or flight mode. But, today seems to be your lucky day and nature seems to be on your side.
You glance behind you after a few steps noticing that the men still hadn't caught up enough for you to be in their vision. In this slight hesitation, your foot catches on a branch growing from the ground likely belonging to one of the beautiful weeping willow trees surrounding you. It appears that the trees have inhabited this place for ages, their roots buried deep into the group and long wispy branches that hide practically everything behind them.
You stumble forward, your arms unable to find anything to grasp. You land harshly on your knees, making you hiss out in pain. You were definitely going to be covered in grass stains after this.
You quickly gather yourself, standing to your feet taking in your new surroundings. You falter a bit, unsteady due to the weight of your backpack making you a bit unbalanced. You must have fallen through into a small cave. The willow's long branches came down to hang in the entrance, blocking anyone from seeing the small hideaway. You're surrounded by rough, cool stone. There's a noticeable temperature difference that provides relief to your damp skin. The sun was beating on you aggressively the whole run, but hey at least it was bright enough out to see in front of you. It was the only reason you were brave enough to do this in broad daylight. Although it was easier to slip away in the dark, sometimes the paths of the kingdom and the forest surrounding can get pretty difficult to navigate after dark.
You hear heavy footsteps coming from the area you had just narrowly managed to escape. They sound pretty scattered, your mind providing you with the image of multiple royal guards rushing into the serene environment. You almost giggle at the thought of them all dressed head to toe in golden armor. A large sun engrained in their chest plate.
You peek slightly through the covering, seeing exactly what you had imagined. They are searching the area hastily in hopes of finding any clues as to which way you went. They look like children playing dress up, some of their spartan-like helmets falling over their eyes when they turn their heads obviously not fitting them properly.
One stalks past the opening, startling you backward. You hold your breath in fear. They may look silly, but that doesn't diminish the fact that they could positively ruin your life if they manage to capture you. You make your way farther into the cave, expecting to run into a rock wall blocking you in. You had planned to just hide it out in here until it was safe to leave, but soon you realize there may be another way to go about it. It seems to not really be a cave like you had initially thought. Rather, it appeared to be a tunnel of some sort. As you continue to walk the light grows dim. Before you know it, you can no longer see more than 2 steps in front of you. You put your arms out trying to feel in front of you. It would suck to run face-first into solid rock.
You bite your lip gently, starting to grow a little nervous at the lack of light and ability to see what's ahead. But you just have to deal with it at this point, anything to put more distance between you and the angry guards.
Soon you spy a light at the end of the tunnel, opposite from where you entered. You no longer hear any yelling or stomping and it gives you hope that maybe on the other side, there would be no one searching for you. They surely would have made it there by now if they could find it, right?
You emerge from the tunnel, eyes squinting as the sun's bright rays abuse your eyes again. When you finally adjust to the new lighting, you look around in amazement. You were somehow in a completely new area, large mountains and hills blocking the place in. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You had thought where you had just come from looked untouched, but this right here was actual nature at its finest.
It wouldn't be hard to believe you were the first human to step foot here in ages, the area completely overgrown with plants and animals. Yet, there was one unavoidable thing that proved that theory wrong. Standing high amid the greenery was a tall tower. It appeared nearly ancient, the stone crumbling a bit with vines wrapping their way up the walls.
It's honestly mystical with a stunning waterfall coming from one of the mountains just beyond the tower, painting the scene with a light mist. You notice that as the sun hits the vapor just right it creates little mini rainbows.
"Woah" you whisper. You aren't usually the type of person to talk to yourself, mostly preferring to keep your thoughts in your mind, but at this moment it felt perfectly justified. You spin in a circle, trying to take everything in. You had never really seen anything like this, despite the beautiful architecture the kingdom was made up of. This felt like something out of a fairy tale. Which you were so not used to. You aren't typically the main character. More likely the shady best friend or the villain who never really lives up to their name.
For a minute, you feel like someone else. Like one of the beautiful girls in the books you read who end up with the loves of their lives. Or even the protagonist in a high fantasy novel. At this point, you honestly wouldn't be that surprised if a fairy with sparkling wings flew out in front of you. It didn't even really feel like real life.
You approach the tower, eager to explore what you have found. You make sure to carefully walk across the wood that appears to have been thrown over the stream haphazardly in an attempt at a bridge. It doesn't exactly look stable and you weren't looking to get wet. But it was the only way across and you just had to get a closer look.
Surprisingly, you make it across with no damage and you sigh in relief. The material of your outfit does not feel nice wet. You had learned that the hard way last time you had stolen something.
You scan the perimeter of the tower, shocked at the realization that there is no door. You double-check, a little put-off at the idea, and again find no door. Not even an opening or one that had been covered by the overgrown bushes and flowers that had taken over the landscape.
'Who makes a tower with no entrance?' you question, your stomach turning slightly beginning to get an eerie feeling. It was just a little… odd. But who were you to say how something should be built? You aren't exactly an architect. And maybe things were just built differently back then.
You knew it was ridiculous to try and justify something as weird as this, but you couldn't help your brain trying to connect the dots. But it just doesn't make sense. You take a few steps back, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. The lack of an entrance is disheartening as you were beginning to think maybe you could've stayed here for a while. There was no way you could go back to the villages of the kingdom right now. They would definitely be searching for you. And if you could find an easy way into this place, it would be a nice spot to hide out until everything cools down.
You spot windows near the top of the tower and suddenly you realize, the window directly above you is wide open. That is your chance. You feel around the stone bricks that make up the base of the building hoping you can catch your fingers in the cracks. You manage to get a little bit of a grip, but not much. There's no way you could make it all the way up there by just climbing. None of the rocks jut out enough.
You gasp out, an idea rushing into your head. You reach down where a leather sheath is strapped to your thigh. You carefully grab your dagger out. it was only one, but it could definitely help. You didn't like carrying a knife on you, but it did become really useful sometimes. You didn't use it much, especially not to hurt people. It's more of a just-in-case option. You bring the metal up to your eyes admiring how the afternoon sunlight reflects off it, the handle carefully engrained with beautiful roses.
You would be lying if you said it didn't kind of make you feel like a badass.
You lodge the dagger into the cracks and use it to try and pull yourself up a bit. It was definitely helpful as you thought. You kick your feet against the stone, hoping to find a decent push-off spot. With the traction on your shoes and your leather gloves protecting your hands both providing a bit of grip, this might actually be possible. And at this point, what exactly did you have to lose? It would be such a nice shelter to rest in for the night.
You carefully, make your way up the tower, thankful for the wood that occasionally wraps the bricks giving you a place to catch your breath.
Finally, you manage to make it to the top, your chest heaving slightly and your fingers burning from the pressure. In your haste to pull yourself up the last little bit of the wall and slide through the window, you fail to notice the soft noises coming from inside. There's some shuffling, but you brush it off assuming it's some animal that had also decided to make this place its shelter.
You throw your leg through the window taking a second to sit there and catch your breath. You're straddling the bit of wood framing the window, it's delicately carved and decorated with light purple flowers on the ledge. You take a mental note of them, hoping to admire them later once you're settled.
Deeming yourself steady enough, you pull your other leg through standing up in the large room. As much as you want to take everything in, you first slip your backpack off. Nervous that things had gotten jostled on the way up. You open the buckle and slip the top open. You set the bag gently on the ground, squatting next to it as you pull out a sparkling crown.
You sigh in relief that it was still there, it hadn't fallen out. There wasn't even a singular scratch on it. The feeling of the cool metal weighing heavy in your hands punches a sigh of relief from your lungs.
"Thank God," you whisper to yourself, breaking the gentle silence of the room you entered. You had stolen the crown. It’s why the royal guards were after you. You had entered the castle through the ceiling and stolen the crown, the guards just barely noticing as you were exiting. It was the most valued object in the whole kingdom. The importance of the crown is in how it is associated with the lost prince.
It was the most well-known story in the country and maybe even the whole world. Everyone had been so ecstatic. The Queen and King were having a baby. An heir to take over the throne when they grew old and gray. But, the Queen had grown increasingly sick as the pregnancy progressed. You had been just a baby when all this was happening, but over the years you have heard of the story many times. It was hard not to. It was everywhere you went.
Thankfully, the Queen recovered. They had found a magical flower that had the power to heal her. The baby came soon after and the whole kingdom rejoiced. They had a beautiful baby boy, with golden locks and soft skin. They released a bright lantern into the indigo sky in celebration.
However, everything went wrong that night. The new parents had heard their baby cry in the early hours of the morning but when they got there he was already gone. Never to be seen again. They still hold hope that maybe one day their baby will return home. Even going as far as to hold an annual festival for him and releasing hundreds of floating lanterns into the sky on his birthday. It was honestly a gorgeous sight.
You go to put the crown back into your bag, still nervous to get scratches or fingerprints on it. It was worth a lot of money. A deal you couldn’t pass up. Just as your fingers leave the smooth metal you hear a shuffling noise coming from your side. Your head shoots up looking to discover where the noise is coming from.
You're shocked at the sight that greets you. You stand up, nearly stumbling back at the surprise. There in front of you was… another human? How in the world had he gotten up here? You didn't hear anyone else climb up after you and it's hard to believe someone could do that silently. Did that mean they had already been here when you arrived? Why were they here?
So many questions flood your head that you barely have time to react as an object comes flying toward your head. You quickly duck down, just barely missing the dark metal by an inch. You pop back up, thankfully agile from all your years as a criminal. Once you regain your footing, your eyes take in the sight of a young man standing in front of you. He has probably the lightest blonde hair you have ever seen in your life paired with deep brown eyes. The sun shines on him, making him look as if he was the sun lighting up the room. You're a little taken aback at the sight of him. Typically you are pretty good at reading people, but it seems like you aren't exactly making the best choices today. He doesn't exactly look like the type to try to hit somebody over the head with a heavy frying pan, but here he is sanding with the weapon of choice in his right hand.
He stares back at you while standing in a nervous, defensive stance. But to be fair, you would also be feeling quite uncomfortable if you had tried to take someone's head off and somehow managed to miss.
The stare lasts longer than most people would deem necessary, silence yet again filling the large stone room. Yet, neither of you break it. You're still reeling in shock from the frying pan.
Finally, you gather yourself and question him. "Did you really just try to hit me with a frying pan?" you ask in disbelief. His eyes widen when you speak. He looks more shocked than you feel, which is really saying something. He looks as if he has never interacted with another human before. For a split second, you wonder if maybe you were being too harsh on him.
But before you can get another word in a call sounds from outside.
"Felix, my love, I'm home," a woman yells in the distance. The boy's, who you now assume to be Felix, head shoots to the window in a panic. He turns to you, now looking even more anxious than before.
"You have to go, you have to go like now. She will actually hurt you. Like with more than a frying pan," he whispers as he comes much closer, his voice a surprisingly gravelly tone. You can practically feel the vibrations of it on your skin and you're stunned for a moment, frozen in place. He grabs your wrist, not unkindly, and leads you to the back wall of the room. You watch him carefully as he proceeds to open the door to an armoire, making you wonder what exactly his plan is. He gestures inside and you simply stare at him struggling to comprehend the situation.
"I'm not hiding in your closet," you spit, slightly insulted he would even suggest that.
"Do you want to get killed?" He asks, his tone firmer this time. You can tell he's serious, and your hands start to shake upon realizing how urgent he sounds.
He continues on despite your silence, eager to get you to follow along. "Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but this is really bad timing. I was going talk to her about something important and now... you're here," he starts sounding utterly defeated. He knows explaining the situation to a random stranger likely wasn't going to help, but he was still going to try.
"She doesn't normally listen to me and she definitely won't if she has to deal with you, so just please hide. Just until I can get her to leave. Then I guess I'll figure out what to do," he finishes with a sigh and stares back at you hopefully. You simply nod slowly a little stunned. Felix realizes this is the closest he'll probably get to agreeance and doesn't try to convince you any further.
He grabs your hand gently as you step into the closet, helping you stay stable in the crowded space. You're surrounded by clothes of every color, so many blues and pinks that if you squint hard enough you can practically imagine you're walking into cotton candy.
"Just stay quiet, I'll try to get her to go away," He states quietly. He nods at you reassuringly and it comforts you. You still feel very trapped, but you no longer feel as nervous, rather trusting the man to take care of it for you. You don't know why he hasn't freaked out at you yet, but if he was going to, it probably would've already happened. He shuts the door slowly, dimming the small space. You watch his figure until the last little bit of light can no longer slip through, shutting you off from the room you had just been in.
Thank God you're not claustrophobic.
Once the door is completely shut, you're unable to see anything aside from black for a while, your eyes refusing to adjust to the sudden darkness. However, you listen carefully to everything happening outside the armoire in hopes of getting a better read on everything happening.
You hear Felix shuffling around in the room, obviously cleaning things up and maybe even hiding things considering his fearful reaction to the women's yell. You can hear her shout again from outside, but you can no longer make out what she says. The wood is too thick to depict more than a murmur. But, Felix seems to have heard what she has said. The noises from the room get much louder and rushed. Before suddenly they stop.
You hold your breath in the quiet, anxiously waiting for what comes next.
Felix takes a deep breath, glancing around the room one last time to make sure everything is nice and clean. He had noticed your bag left by the window, the stolen crown peeking out. A little chick, whom Felix had named Bbokari had been poking around next to it making him laugh in adoration of the small creature. He must have hidden when you had broken in, scared of the stranger. But that was to be expected, considering every time mother arrived home, Felix would tell the small chick to hide, pushing him out of sight. Now, Mother wasn't mean or an animal abuser. She had never hurt Bbokari before, but Felix honestly did not want to take that chance. She wasn't exactly a fan of critters or any type of outsider making their way into her tower.
He gives the chick a tiny pat on the head with his index finger, the small bird tweeting happily, before curiously picking up the crown. It shined brightly, the sun catching on the metal as he picked it up.
What in the world? he thinks in confusion. Out of all the things Mother has brought home, this is definitely not something he's seen before. It does, however, remind him of the fairytales he had read as a kid before she had confiscated them in an angry fit. She didn't like when he read about that stuff. It had confused him greatly, as she had never really told him why. So, rather than reading about princesses he was often stuck with books about nature or fiction stories about romance.
The chick pecks at his foot, urgently, trying to remind him of the situation at hand. He snaps out of it quickly putting the crown back in the leather bag. He brings it over to the stairs in the corner. He peels back the one broken step, shoving the bag beneath it. Not even mother knew of this hiding spot. He had to hide the bag, she would ask way too many questions about where that came from. He knows that realistically he should be scared about a stranger practically breaking into the tower. But maybe there's a small part of him that wants to prove himself to his mother. Show her that he really can handle himself. He's turning 18 tomorrow and maybe just maybe now that he's old enough, she'll let him go.
He's had this dream since he was little, to see the floating lights. Every year, they appear on his birthday. Hundreds of bright yellow lights fill the sky, and he cannot seem to figure out why. Either way though, he can't help but feel like they're meant for him. And every year, without fail, he watches them. He looks forward to it all year round, waiting for the day he can see the floating lights gleam again. It's his dream to see them up close in person, but it's starting to seem like it may be simply that- just a dream. How silly of him to think it's something that could actually happen.
Mother becomes very angry anytime he asks to leave the tower, or simply mentions anything about the outside world, but he feels confident this time. She's definitely going to let him go; she has to right? It's his only hope.
"Darling, I'm not getting any younger down here," Mother Gothel yells, sounding exasperated. He quickly picks Bbokari up, hiding him on a ledge behind a curtain, giving him a loving smile before rushing to go help her up.
She had created this tower without a door, purposefully hoping to keep him as far away from the outside and other people as she could. And hell, he couldn't blame her. After all the stories she has told him, he's thankful he's never been exposed to the harshness of the world.
Felix jogs over the window, leaning over the edge, feeling the soft spring breeze blow through his hair.
"Coming Mother!" he yells, adding excitement to his voice. Despite his earlier nervousness, he can't help but be excited whenever she comes home. She often takes long trips, only coming home for days at a time. He'll take any sort of human interaction he can get.
Felix grabs the rope from the wall next to the window, swinging it over the hook hanging down. He throws the rope over, watching his Mother grab it harshly once it hits the ground. Since there is no door, they use a sort of pully system. There's a loop at the bottom of the rope that mother slips her foot into and she holds onto the rope as Felix pulls her the rest of the way up.
It was exhausting, but he's gotten used to it over the years. Luckily, he's gotten a lot stronger over the years. Especially since now that he's older she goes on her trips a lot more. Don't get him wrong, he's thankful, he really is as these trips usually involve getting food or gifts for Felix and her. However, the days can get lonely and fast. There's only so much cleaning, baking, painting, and singing a person can do. It's the reason the walls of the tower are completely covered in different paintings. Some have even been painted over multiple times; he ran out of space long ago. Being home alone for days on end without being able to go outside isn't exactly the dream life some people would think. But he gets it. There are reasons he can't go outside and he must abide to keep himself safe.
So, he pushes the anger and resentment deep inside, painting on his happiest face for her to come home to. He finishes pulling her up and wipes a bead of sweat from his face as she finally steps into the sun-lit room.
She walks over to his bed, placing down her basket and shawl before returning to him. She always looks a bit run down when she comes home, her hair a bit more grey, wrinkles on her forehead, and this haunted look in her eyes. Honestly, it's enough to make him never want to go outside.
The woman caresses Felix's cheek gently, looking into his eyes. He has always loved whenever she was gentle with him, providing love and care, but it's starting to becoming rarer with each passing day.
"Felix, I don't know how you manage to do that day after day, dear," She says softly with a bit of concern.
"It's nothing, Mother," he reassures her, despite how exhausting it truly is. She lets go of him, before he can even finish the sentence, her gaze scanning the rest of the room.
"You keep it so nice and clean in here, it's so nice for Mumsy to come home to," she says, always impressed by the things he manages to get done while she's away. Felix cringes a bit at the statement, knowing he had finished cleaning at barely 7:30 am. It truly was the easiest part of the day. Honestly, the hardest part is always the waiting. Waiting for someone, anyone, to talk to or really just anything to do.
Mother walks over to his mirror that stands near the wall. It's circular and nothing fancy, framed in wood, but she looks at it as if it holds all the answers to life, like it's the most important thing in the world. Sometimes Felix wonders if she loves the mirror more than she loves him, but he quickly pushes that thought down, not wanting it to sour his mood anymore than it already has.
He follows her over to the mirror watching in disdain as she examines her face. Lifting her eyebrows and wincing as the skin drops back down, wrinkled and droopy from her trip. She glances up at him, making eye contact through the reflective glass. In this moment, Felix decides he needs to ask her. He's been waiting all day, or really his whole life, and he really just needs to put it out there.
He opens his mouth ready to admit his dream to her, but he's quickly cut off.
"Felix, my love, would you sing for me?" she asks, and despite her trying to hide it, he can detect the desperation in her voice. He's learned to pick out even the slightest change of tone from her over the years.
Felix's eyes widen, almost comically. How could he have forgotten. It's always the first thing she asks for when she gets back. Of course, she would want him to sing for her. His plan is just going to have to wait for a few more minutes.
He nods repeatedly, rushing off again to grab all the necessary supplies. He places Mothers chair down in the center of the room, before grabbing his flimsy stool, setting it in front of the chair. He sits down quickly, trying to hurry the situation along despite knowing how mother likes to take her time during the process. Going too quickly can become a bit more shocking than refreshing, but today was not the time for relaxation.
Mother finally comes over and takes a seat in her usual chair. She grabs Felix's hands and he can only hope she doesn't feel how sweaty they are. He's so nervous about how the conversation is going to go.
His mind is racing as he opens his mouth to start singing. The words coming with ease, practically muscle memory now with how many times he has sang it for her.
"Flower gleam and glow," he starts, his low voice bouncing off the circular walls. He can see her instantly start to relax as his voice fills the room. It makes Felix feel a bit better, knowing how happy it makes her when he sings. As the song continues, he starts to speed up, again eager to get it over with. Mother's eyes open again in panic, wanting the feeling to last longer.
"Wait-" she starts to say, but Felix has already made it to the ending line. As the song comes to a close, Mother jolts forward practically turning into a new person. Her hair is back to it's usual shiny raven color, a new sense of life brimming from her eyes, and all the wrinkles immediately disappearing from her skin. She's young again, just like she likes to be. He can't blame her, who doesn't wish to be young again.
Normally at this time, Felix would compliment her or tell her how he finds her beautiful before and after, but this time there is something else weighing on his mind. He can only hope that the wood of the closet is thick enough and that he had managed to close the door all the way, knowing sometimes it wouldn't latch completely.
This is the last thing he wants you to find out about. He's terrified you'll turn out to be one of those ruffians and thugs Mother warns him about, wanting to steal him away and use him for his magic.
Oh yeah, Felix has this magical ability where he can heal people with just his touch and voice. He can easily make anyone young again and heal all kinds of wounds. It's why he's in this tower, locked away. It's to keep him safe. Mother doesn't want his power to end up in the wrong hands.
She looks down at Felix in disbelief, not understanding why he is acting this way. He stands up abruptly from the small stool, the same one he has sat in since he was a child, and starts to talk, unable to keep it in anymore.
"Mother, tomorrow is a very special day. Do you know what day it is?" he asks, mouth running a mile a minute. She stands up with him, grabbing his wrist lightly, trying to stop him from pacing around the room. All the energy is making her head spin.
He doesn't even wait a second to let her respond, before reminding her, "It's my birthday!"
"Ah ah ah," she starts, "I distinctly remember that your birthday was last year." Felix tries not to let himself physically deflate at this. She always loves to play games like this.
"That's the funny thing about birthdays, they happen every year," he says gently, not wanting to anger her.
"What is it you want this year? How about those muffins you really liked from that one bakery?" she says, figuring that's what this conversation was about.
"Actually, Mother I was thinking, maybe I could go see the floating lights?" he asks, "The one's that fill the sky every year on my birthday."
At this her gaze immediately darkens, and he realizes that he was right. It's only a dream. It's not something that could come true. He should have known better. She would never let him leave the tower. She's told him this so many times before.
Yet, he couldn't help but try. It's who he is. He's too hopeful and innocent for his own good.
"Felix, you know how I feel about you leaving the tower," she states, her voice a low tone. Felix suppresses a shiver, his body reacting anxiously.
"But Mother-" he starts, hoping to explain himself.
"No buts, they are just stars, Felix, nothing worth putting yourself in danger for," she says, using an argument he had thought of many times.
"They aren't though, I have charted every single star in that sky, and it just doesn't fit. I can't help but feel like they are meant for me."
"Felix, do not argue with me" she says, her volume rising drastically. He knows she can get worked up fast with sensitive topics, but he really wishes she would just listen to him.
"Don't ever ask to leave this tower again," she says sternly as her grip around his wrist tightens harshly. He winces, tears pooling in his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall.
'Don't cry,' he repeats desperately in his head. She would never take him seriously or believe he could handle himself if he cried in front of her.
"Yes, Mother" he says back quietly, knowing there is no use fighting with her. She pats him gently on the head, satisfied with his answer, before moving back over to her basket. She starts to put her things back in their rightful spots, unpacking after her trip.
"Mother-" Felix starts again only to stop as her head aggressively snaps towards him, anger evident on her face.
"Enough about the stars, Felix," she yells in disbelief. Felix shrinks back instinctually. That wasn't even what he was going to say.
"I was actually thinking maybe you could get me more of those special paints you got me a few years ago," he says timidly, trying to come up with something else that she would be more willing to comply with.
"That's a 3-day trip," she sighs out in annoyance.
"I just thought it would be a better idea than... you know," he explains.
"Alright, dear, are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I know I'm safe as long as I'm here," he says back knowing just what she wants to hear. Felix helps as she goes to repack up her stuff, preparing for the long trip ahead of her.
"I love you, my flower," Mother says before she leaves the tower again, climbing down the rope to the soft grass of the outside world.
"I love you more," he says back. It's his usual response, but this time the words feels heavy coming off his tongue, almost as if it doesn't really weigh as truthfully in his heart as it did this morning. Everything just feels wrong.
Bbokari steps out from behind the curtain, chirping at him loudly. It was surprising how loud such a tiny animal could be. Felix walks over to him, gently petting him.
"Everything's going to be okay," he says softly, unsure if he's truly assuring the chick or himself.
A loud snore startles him from the interaction. Bbokari turns his head cutely towards the closet where the noise came from.
Felix sighs bumping his head lightly on the wall above the ledge.
“I don’t want to handle that right,” he says with a chuckle. Bbokari just looks up at him adamantly and Felix knows exactly what the little bird is trying to say. He can’t just keep you in the closet.
Felix rolls his eyes playfully before heading over to the armoire to let you out. However, he does grab his frying pan on the way… just in case.
More parts coming soon!!
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bindeds · 4 months
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⋆。 °⛧ Willy Wonka headcanons ! 🖇️✩ ₊˚
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gif is by @thisgameissonintendo <3
do lmk if you’d like more posts like this!! I’m planning to write a wonka fic soon so stay tuned ;)
requests are open ! mlist. wonka nsfw hcs.
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he’s good at lockpicking & pickpocketing, so he’d make a very good thief but he doesn’t do it because he knows he was taught better by his mother and he doesn’t want to disappoint her
he is only a workaholic when it comes to his chocolate. This man would find the easiest and fastest possible way to do most other tasks
one of the only tasks that are an exemption of the above are clothing. He’s particular in what he wears, not that he has high standards but he wants to dress unapologetically like himself, and that includes deep shades of purple, red and pink for his overcoats, and more mute colors for anything below that
LOVES to read now that he can. He often visits the library and even started a mini book club with Noodle and the rest of the gang (Piper, Larry, Abacus and Lottie) but they assign themselves more than one book per month sometimes because the rest are not as fast to read books as the two of them
He is IN LOVE with Alice in Wonderland, especially the Mad Hatter.
He loves poetry too, and learned how to write his own pretty quickly and always reads it out to Noodle when he writes new poems
his guilty pleasure for books is definitely romance. He likes the thought of devoting yourself to one person, because he knows how it feels like to devote himself to chocolate, and imagining a whole other person to share everything with just fills him with so much hope and light.
this man smells just like vanilla and chocolate, and he wants to keep it that way so he learned to make his own perfume that has the unique smell of his own chocolate (this headcanon partially inspired by this fic! I love the writer sm)
definitely looks up and says ‘sorry mama,’ if he does something questionable, even if he has good intentions
unaware of ‘gender norms’ because he lived by a river with his mother as a child then stayed on sea for seven years with roughly the same group of people, so those things weren’t imposed on him especially since he was mostly raised by only his mother.
following the headcanon above, he knows both the female and male parts of the waltz and other ballroom dances and has no problem wearing skirts or dresses (though prefers pants because he’s used to wearing them and it’s easier to move around in)
and because he was raised with only a small group of people around him almost his whole life, he lives life ‘unfiltered’ which is why he is seen as eccentric and wild, because his mother found it endearing and the boat crew saw how brilliant he was and never told him to ‘tone it down.’
loves shopping with Noodle, and they have an especially good time trying out clothes together
if the Barbie movie came out around the same area and time period, him and Noodle would have definitely dressed in all pink and only Wonka would have bawled his eyes out while Noodle begrudgingly consoles him
definitely goes back out to sea for a whole month once a year, and with the same crew he was first seen with in the beginning of the film. He misses them dearly, and always shares his chocolate with them free of charge
this man has chocolates for everything—chocolates to sleep better, chocolates to enhance focus and even chocolates to calm down (either from panic attacks or intense emotions like anger)
he probably even sells chocolates with vitamins inside, mostly also for children who don’t remember or don’t want to take their vitamins, but he was careful not to make it too good so they won’t take more than the necessary daily amount
he learned to cook after the events of the movie, finding that knowledge in that area would help enhance his skill in chocolate-making. He’s good, but of course he’s not a sous chef
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katiapostsss · 3 months
Text
DRABBLE:
hayden christensen and books
enjoy!
〰️
"i'm thinkin' about reading this new book," you spoke, your hands absentmindedly running through hayden's ruffled hair in the way that you knew he loved. "mia told me it was good. my coworker, remember?"
you really didn't want to bother him much whenever he seemed on the brink of sleep, but hayden always insisted that he loved it whenever you talked while he was tired. he claimed it helped him fall asleep, which you couldn't deprive him of, so, late at night, propped up against your headboard with his head on your torso and his arms wrapped around your middle, you rattled off meaningless details about your day, from how the price of gas went up at your local gas station or that there was an ache in your left leg. sometimes, he responded, other times, he didn't, and you never pushed him to, either.
"the one who keeps holding you back at work for reshootings?" he muttered, and you huffed a laugh. since you had been shooting a new movie as the lead, your coworker—who you'd worked with in the past and loved dearly—had been the reason for your late arrivals home. hayden loved complaining about it, too, claiming he now understood what you felt like when he often had to leave for his own work while shooting star wars, you, spending most of the time home alone.
"yea." a soft smile tugged at your lips. "it's called 'the book thief'. from what i've heard, it sounds pretty good."
much to your surprise, hayden seemed to wake himself up, drawing his head from your torso and instead, lightly resting his chin there. you peered down at him, a question in your eyes, but he spoke before you could.
"what's it about?" he asked, his eyes darkened in the dull light of the lamp on your bedside table. you breathed a laugh, skepticism creeping across your face.
"since when have you ever shown interest in what i read?" you inquired in return. often, you told your boyfriend about the books you were reading, and though he avidly listened, he never really asked about it much. below you, hayden pursed his lips, face scrunching in what you couldn't guess the meaning of.
"since mia started giving you recommendations," came his reply after a bit of thinking. "why are you asking anyways? are you implying that i'm dumb 'cause i don't read a lot?" he sent you a sarcastically skeptical face, to which your mouth fell open to in mock surprise.
"i would never," you scoffed as if he was crazy for even thinking it. he kept that same look on his face for what felt like eternities until your hands reached out to tug the corners of his mouth into a smile. though he let you, each time you retracted your fingers, his mouth would drop back into that frown. "so difficult," you muttered with a laugh. hayden tilted his head to the side.
"so?"
giving up, you dropped your hands at your sides and looked away, thinking back on your earlier interaction with your coworker and what she had said about the book. "i'm pretty sure it's about this german girl... something about her moving to a foster home 'cause her mom's on the run. takes place during the holocaust." your eyes strayed back to his own, which were intently looking at your face. you grinned. "why do you care, seriously?"
hayden propped himself on his elbows, leaning up to kiss your lips. "can't care 'bout my girlfriend's life anymore, huh?" you giggled when he peppered your face with tender pecks, his lips soft and warm on your skin.
"answer the question, hay." you poked his side, turning your head to the left so he could no longer kiss you. he sighed through his nose, leaning back again and shrugging as best as he could in his position.
"i dunno. i wanna talk to you," he uttered, and your laughter died, your smile blooming even further. you couldn't help but love him even more in those moments, your heart so full you felt it might've exploded inside your chest. "be part of your life more."
"you already are," you reassured, tilting your head to the side and reaching a hand out to run your fingers through his hair once more. he hummed his approval, resting his head on your torso the way he had before you had interrupted his sleepiness.
"okay. continue, please," hayden stated against your clothed skin, hands gripping the hem of your shirt. you smiled.
"alright."
two weeks later.
〰️
the first thing you felt when you woke up was a chaste kiss against the skin of your forehead, shifting, and cold air. you struggled to open your eyes, still weak under the weight of sleep. hayden's voice pulled you out a bit.
"got called into work, love. i'll be back soon," he said. you hummed a small acknowledgment, not bothering to say anything more before you shifted below the sheets and faintly heard the door click open and closed.
an hour later, and you were sitting up against the headboard, yawning and stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the clock on your bedside table told you it was 8:03 am. still too early, but breakfast was calling to your empty stomach. you looked to the side, upset that hayden was gone and expecting the sheets to be completely empty. they weren't.
a few inches from your thigh, was a thin, rectangular box. a present. it was wrapped up in a sort of newspaper design, tied with a red ribbon. calling to be opened. tentatively, you twisted your body, tucked your legs underneath you, and picked up the gift. it was cold and stark in your hands. not wanting to ruin the intricate paper design, you carefully unwrapped it, mind whirling to a bunch of different thoughts. today wasn't anything special. you couldn't think of a reason hayden would gift you something, but then again, he did love buying you things without you even asking. was it even from hayden?
your breath caught in your throat once it was all opened, a smile blooming on your lips. a copy of the book thief. it was— he even went with the color scheme to simply wrap it up. faded newspaper and red. you huffed a laugh, opening it up, and what was on the inside surprised you more.
'turns out mia has good book taste.' he had read it? there was 525 pages in the book, and he read all of it. for you. flipping open the pages, what you found baffled you even further. he had left notes, as well, little annotations across the pages, with words like 'this made me think of you', or, 'we should do this together'.
mia had good taste, indeed.
.
another drabble because im getting writer's block 🤭
please send any suggestions in! im willing to write anything for anyone rn cause i want to be active on this page
anyways, reblogging is much appreciated! i hope you enjoyed ❤️
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thefreakandthehair · 6 months
Text
@steddiemas day 1: deck the halls | wc: 1.2k | rated: m
Robin Buckley loves Christmas.
Like, really loves Christmas. If she could convince Steve to put the tree up in their little shitbox apartment the day after Halloween, she would. In fact, she'd tried last year but Steve reminded her that a live tree would be a needleless fire hazard by Christmas Day and she refuses to entertain the idea of a fake tree.
Absolutely not. Live tree or bust.
And this is how Steve ends up at the Christmas Tree Farm the day after Thanksgiving, dragged around with a fond if not tired smile as she checks tree after tree, pulling their branches, checking their strength and health.
"It has to be a Blue Spruce to hold those heavy ornaments from my parents, and none of these are Blue Spruces!" She bemoans, whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "Are you even helping?"
He rolls his eyes and sips the hot chocolate that warms him from the inside. "I'm here as moral support and to cut the thing down when you find it." Steve wiggles the little saw he'd been handed and nods her on.
Robin scoffs and marches back towards him. "I think there are some Blue Spruces in the lot towards the back."
Without a question, he turns on his heel and follows her. This isn't their first Christmas Tree Hunt so he knows the drill. No matter how much he actually hates Blue Spruces because the needles are sharp and stick him when they hang the lights, he'll never say a word. Not when it makes his best friend this happy.
Eventually, they make the trek through muddy grass and Robin does, in fact, find a Blue Spruce that makes her eyes light up in the hidden away lot.
"This is it," she beams. "This is the one."
"Perfect, here, hold this--" Steve hands her his mug and starts to lean down, only for the tree to start shaking.
A man in ripped jeans and Reeboks lies beneath the tree, his own saw just beginning to make its mark in the stump of the spiky, healthy Spruce.
"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? This is our tree." Robin says, reaching through branches to hold it steady. "We were just about to cut it down, back off."
Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not that he won't defend Robin's honor and get into a fight in a Christmas Tree Farm for her, he'd just really rather not.
The mystery man pokes his head out from under the tree with furrowed brows and two needles sticking out from the top of his head, dirt on his denim jacket that protects what looks like a red and black flannel. Steve's definitely been watching way too many Hallmark movies with Robin lately because holy shit, he's cute.
"Listen, my best friend wants this tree, and I don't even wanna be under here but if she doesn't get this Blue Whatever-The-Fuck, someone's halls are getting decked and it'll probably be mine. So, sorry." He shrugs and returns to his place under the tree. 
Robin looks at Steve, bewildered and frazzled simultaneously. Do something, she mouths. 
Like what? He mouths back, scrunching his face and contorting his mouth. 
She widens her eyes and jerks her head to the side, desperate. 
He should’ve known Robin would be responsible for his demise. 
“C’mon, man, we’ve been here for two hours looking for a tree.” Steve gets no response, just a few grunts that shouldn’t go straight to his crotch but what can he say? It’s been awhile.
He steps forward and lies down beneath the tree with the Tree Thief. “Is she here with you? Your best friend who seems as fucking rabid as mine is here about these trees?” 
Steve watches as the man focuses on the tree stump, rhythmic back and forth motions of the saw moving his torso along the ground with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Maybe I can talk to her? Or send Robin? She’s… convincing?” 
“Chrissy wants this one, dude. Hate to break it to you.” 
“Ah, okay. Robin and Chrissy. Well, I’m Steve, and you’re…?” 
The sawing stops as he catches his breath. “Eddie. I’m Eddie. And unless you’re gonna help under here, you might wanna move. I don’t wanna drop this on you.” 
Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and takes a chance. Reaching out, he places one hand on top of Eddie’s. “Can I make you a deal?” 
Eddie startles, eyes flickering back and forth from the space where their hands touch on the rough bark of the tree up to Steve’s gaze. 
“Depends on the deal, I suppose.” Maybe Steve imagines the flush to his cheeks and the playful grin that blossoms across his lips. All he knows about Eddie is that his best friend’s name is Chrissy and that he has the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s maybe ever seen. 
Not maybe. Definitely. 
“Uh,” he shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of whatever Christmas romcom he thinks he’s living in. “What if we help you and Chrissy find another tree and I help you cut it down? I’ll even carry it to the car for you.” 
“What are you, some sort of lumberjack?”
“Nope,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, joking as he leans closer, like an idiot. “Just desperate not to get my halls decked.” It earns him a genuine smile and surprised laugh punched from Eddie’s lungs. 
“Alright,” he taps the saw on the trunk and smirks over at Steve, mere inches apart beneath a Christmas tree. Close enough for the faint scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and Old Spice cologne to permeate the strength of the resinous spruce. “You help us find another tree, lug it to the car, and then meet me for coffee after? Seems like the least you can do, all things considered.” 
Trading numbers with the guy he met while bargaining for Robin’s dream Christmas tree isn’t the weirdest moment of his life, but it’s certainly on the shortlist. As is plucking rogue needles out of his hair when they come up from beneath the tree.
He ends up lugging two Blue Spruces to the parking lot an hour later in two trips— Robin chatting with Chrissy in front of them and Eddie at his side, gravitating closer and closer until their arms nearly touch. 
“You know, you didn’t actually have to do this,” Eddie says, moving away from Steve and to the other side of Chrissy's sedan to help tie the tree to the roof. “You’re not like, actually obligated or whatever.” 
Steve finishes tying his end of the knot and looks across at Eddie, finding him standing with hopeful eyes and a piece of hair drawn in front of his face. 
“Oh, I know.” He smiles and shrugs. “But I want to. Especially the coffee-with-you-after part.” 
“Not until we get this thing up and decked, Munson!” Chrissy pops up next to Eddie at the same time Robin appears next to Steve, both of them practically bouncing on their heels and grinning ear to ear. 
Robin nudges Steve in the side and he looks down to see her phone held out, Chrissy’s number typed into her contacts with a tiny pink heart to it. He gives her a subtle, excited thumbs up from below Eddie and Chrissy’s view beneath the car. 
Eddie slings an arm across Chrissy’s shoulders and ruffles her hair before she fixes her ponytail, indignant. 
“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you?” 
Eddie nods and turns himself and Chrissy towards the front of the car. As he gets in the passenger seat, he looks back at Steve with a mischievous wink most likely emboldened by Steve’s brash flirtation. 
“The sooner, the better.”
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 8 months
Text
The Hercules to my Meg ♤
Jason Todd x reader
A/N: How's it going? This is my first piece for Jason! I hope I did him justice lmao I love Jason and the Hercules movie, so I had to write something about this!
Enjoy!
~Fi 🪻
Warnings: mentions of murder, spoilers for Hercules I guess???, disgustingly sweet
Word count: 1k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
❤️••••••••••••••••••⚱️••••••••••••••••••❤️
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"Are you ready, babe?" Jason's voice cut through his apartment. It was a Friday night, and you had decided against going out with his siblings. Instead, you wanted to have a cozy movie night! And because it's you and Jason, movie nights always had a theme. Today's theme was greek mythology. Maybe a little complicated for a movie night, but you two made due. The rules were simple: both of you picked a movie according to the theme and decided via rock, paper, scissors.
The winner got their movie played and the softer blanket. The choices today were Hercules and Percy Jackson: the lighting thief. You'd obviously picked out Hercules. As action-filled and enjoyable as Percy Jackson was, there was no beating the colorful and entertainingly inaccurate world that was Hercules.
"I can't believe you've never watched Hercules. It's my favorite Disney movie!" You exclaimed, plopping down next to your lover on the couch. Bowl of snacks in hand, you swung your legs over his lap  and pulled the blanket around you. Jason chuckled. "Well, I'm watching it now, aren't I? I'm fulfilling my 'boyfriend of the year' duties, you know?" He joked, a grin on his face. You playfully rolled your eyes.
"First of all, you're just saying that because you lost rock, paper, scissors, again and second of all, you'll always be boyfriend of the year, no matter what." you grinned, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. Jason hummed in satisfaction. "You flatter me, baby." He responded, a teasing tone to his voice. "What can I say, I aim to please." You popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth.
Jason gently caressed your thigh under the blanket. He did that quiet often, absent mindedly tracing patterns on your skin. It grounded him, that he knew that you were right here with him. You pressed play and excitedly watched the TV. Continuing to enjoy your snack, you slightly moved your foot along with the music. It wasn't your fault that the muses belted out incredible bangers.
A smile tugged on Jason's lips. He turned his head and looked at you; eyes wide with joy, your soft lips pulled into a beautiful smile. It tugged at his heart strings, to see you so happy over such a simple thing. He admired that about you. No matter the circumstance, you always found something fun in it. Something you enjoyed. He faced the screen again and watched the movie. He wanted to know if the hype you gave it was worth it.
You laughed, giggled and occasionally ranted about some of the many inaccuracies. At some point, you'd changed your position and were now cuddled up to Jason's side, feeding him popcorn. He seemed to enjoy the movie as well, letting out those absolutely beautiful laughs of his. He was very invested too; he threatened to trash the TV if Meg didn't get her soul back. You had to hold him back with your entire body weight and then trapped him in the blanket. The TV was safe.
The credits rolled, and you set the now empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and slightly turned to Jason. "So.. what do you think?" You asked, curious of his answer.
"Probably one of the best movies I've ever watched, to be honest." he laughed. You grew excited. "Yes! I knew you'd like it. Who's your favorite character?" You questioned, beaming with excitment. His heart melted at your passion for this movie. You looked so cute with that sparkle in your eyes. He pondered for a moment.
"I mean, Hades was phenomenal, but... It has to be Pegasus. What about you, sweetheart?" He said with a soft look in his face."Pegasus is great. Mine's Meg, obviously! She's a badass."
Jason hummed at your statement, letting his fingers trail up and down your arm. You two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, letting the names in the credits run over the screen. "You know, you remind me a lot of Hercules." You said. Jason turned towards you. "How so?"
"A. Huge Himbo," Jason gave you an unimpressed look with a smirk tugging at his lips,"B. You're kind and soft with a tough looking exterior, just like he is. You don't just look tough, you are, but you also help people in need and you've got a big heart." You said softly, placing a hand on his chest with a smile. He returned an equally as soft smile and wrapped his large hand around the one you had positioned on his chest.
"If you think so, will you be my Meg?" He smirked. You laughed and threw your head back. You looked so pretty like this, Jason thought. "Sure, as long as it's the movie Meg and not the myth Meg because... yikes." You responded. His brows furrowed and he tilted his head in confusion.
"Why? What's so wrong with myth Meg?" He questioned. You sucked in a breath. "Well... You'd end up murdering me and our children. You pissed off a witch and she put a spell on you which made you go on a homicidal rampage against your will." You mumbled. His eyes widened and he slightly slacked against the couch. "Damn..." he breathed out. You giggled. "Yeah... but that's greek mythology for you, baby." You sighed. He turned to you with still furrowed brows. "And you like this stuff?"
"Not the murder part, obviously!"
He chuckled and pulled you into his lap, hands on your waist. "Can we be a different couple from greek mythology? A happy one, perhaps?" He questioned with a grin. "Sorry to break it to you, Honey, but there is no such thing as happy couples in greek mythology." You laughed. A frown formed on his face.
"We better just stick to Herc and Meg, huh? Movie version, of course." He chuckled. Jason smiled and pulled you closer by your waist. "Yeah... we should." You smiled, lightly brushing your nose against his. "I love you, Wonder boy." You breathed out, a teasing tone to your voice. "I love you too, Megnut." He teased right back and pulled you into a soft and passionate kiss. You pulled him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling away, you two broke into one last fit of giggles and laughter. The movie night had concluded, and it had been a wonderful evening once again.
❤️••••••••••••••••••⚱️••••••••••••••••••❤️
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eviesaurusrex · 2 years
Text
ꜱɪᴄᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇꜱ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ
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GIFs not mine!
Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: Harry is down with the flu and had to cancel his remaining L.A. shows. Seeking comfort and reassurance that this was the right call, he FaceTimes his girlfriend YN, who is filming her recent movie on the opposite side of the country, and decides to surprise her sick and hard-working boyfriend.
word count: 2.7k
warnings: Harry being insecure and anxious about his decision, feeling bad about said decision, sick!Harry, but overall fluffy fluffness!
author’s note: I’m so sorry for our hard working man (and all the fans who had tickets), but glad that he prioritizes his health even though it sucks. But his health is more important, people. Please keep that in mind. And yes, I just had to write this. Deal with it <3
;
He didn’t need to wait long for her to accept the FaceTime call—probably already anticipating it after she surely had read the headline of him canceling his remaining L.A. shows. It instantly soothed him as her pretty face appeared on his phone’s screen, though it would be even better if she were right next to him. Harry would never be shy about admitting that he loved when YN took care of him. She just knew the tricks and quirks to make him feel better within hours.
“Hey, pretty woman,” he greeted her with his scratchy voice, sniffling a bit and wrapping himself tighter in the lavender robe he had stolen from YN’s designated spot in their bathroom. She smiled softly at him, but the singer could see the worry lines deepening at the picture of his sick self. “Hey, love,” she returned and cooed silently. “How is my man doing?” Harry could see her moving around before she plopped down onto the comfy couch he missed every time they weren’t in their New Yorker home.
He shrugged. “Feel like shit,” he mumbled and sighed deeply before it tickled a violent cough out of him. Her brows were even more furrowed after he had calmed himself again. “Oh, love… What did the doctor say?” Harry shrugged again, feeling more miserably about his canceled shows and fans than about himself and that nasty virus. “The flu. Not the other nasty virus sneaking around in the open. So, you don’t have to worry yourself to death, darlin’.” YN cocked a brow now, looking at him expectantly. “I thought we knew each other after three years into this relationship, H,” she chastised him jokingly with a chuckle. “Y’know I’m always worrying myself to death when it comes to you, sweets.”
And it was the truth. Even if Harry wasn’t sick, YN worried for him—when he flew, when he went on stage, when he went out with friends and didn’t text if he needed a ride back home, and returned in the depths of night to demand drunken cuddles. However, the latter was such a rare thing he did that it almost didn’t count. And she worried the most when she wasn’t there to comfort and take care of him because she was across the country or the globe. It hurt somewhere deep down in her heart seeing him like that, seeing him suffering alone, without a helping hand to ensure he would get better in no time.
“Did you have some soup, love? Should I order something and let it bring to you?” She already sat straighter just to do exactly this, but Harry already shook his head slowly. “Jeff brought me some earlier. Left it at the door, rang, and bolted like a thief on the run.” He chuckled lowly before coughing again, worrying YN even more. But she chuckled alongside him to keep their conversation as light as usual. “At least someone who takes care of you. Got ya’self a good pot of tea?” Again, the singer nodded, grabbing the sunflower-yellow mug from its designated spot next to the propped-up phone and taking a huge sip. “Even put honey in’nit, but it doesn’t taste even closely as good as yours, darlin’,” Harry admitted and furrowed his brows. “Did I do something wrong? Used the wrong honey? Wrong tea?”
YN’s heart broke once more at the sound of his helpless tone and his sad puppy eyes, feeling the urge to leave everything behind and fly across the country. She already eyed the calendar on the coffee table in front of her. “Did you use the one in the drawer? Right to the stove?” Harry nodded, a sad expression deepening on his face. “Yeah,” he mumbled, crushed. YN cooed again, trying to soothe his mind. “Maybe you let the tea steep too long, lovie. Give it another try later, yeah?”
He nodded again, letting his hand rake through his soft, now messy curls, and the woman knew that he wanted to ask something, that something was on his mind, continuing to bug him. “What’s wrong, H?” YN sat up again and leaned forward, smartphone in her hand and forearms resting on her knees. Harry threw her a look she knew all too well—she saw it numerous times on his face and hers as well. Self-doubt. Easy as that. “Do you think it was a good idea to cancel the shows?” She already wanted to open her mouth to tell him exactly this, but he continued. “It’s the first time in my entire career, and I feel like I let down my fans, of whom many traveled to L.A. just to see me. I can’t imagine the costs for that—well, I can, numbers-wise—but the… the emotional cost, the excitement, some of them probably took off at work and… and… I just feel like I failed them, YNN.”
Her heart ached even more, and YN had to try to suppress the tears trying to invade her eyes. He was always so hard-working, always trying to meet his fans’ expectations and wishes, consistently delivering—not only in his singing but also in his starting acting career. She was always in wonder and astonishment when witnessing the dedication of her boyfriend, but at some point, his body had to cave.
“Listen to me, my love,” she began and staring at her man’s face through the screen. “It was the only thing you could do, the only responsible decision there was. Not only for you and your health but also the health of Mitch, and Sarah, and Jeff, and all the others involved, not to mention the health of your fans. For many of them, you’re a role model, someone they look up to, and now they see that it’s a responsible move to say, ‘Okay, I’m sick, I’m gonna stay home’ because many people already forgot this essential key even though we went through a pandemic and still living in one. And I don’t wanna start to talk about the good you do for your body right now. I’m actually impressed on how long you two pushed through with all that stress and constant traveling.”
YN had only waited for that moment to occur—but had desperately wished for it to happen when she was back with him on tour or at home, not when she was in the midst of wrapping up a new project.
Harry grew very silent during her rambling, watching her closely, a small smile appearing on his handsome face. “How long have you waited to hold that speech, love?” Now it was YN’s turn to shrug. “Maybe a few months?” Harry started to grin at her bashful smile and blushing cheeks, still not believing his luck of having found her in that small bookshop back in London, where she had fervently tried to get a hold of a Jane Austen novel.
His grin morphed into a tender, loving smile, only reserved for her eyes to witness—and maybe some cameras when they walked the carpet together or were seen on their many dates. Harry just loved to spoil his woman, and if it were time with him she demanded she would get exactly that.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and YN smiled back, resting her chin in her palm. “Anytime, H.” She checked the clock and hummed softly. “Get some rest, sweets, yeah? Check the bathroom cupboard with the towels underneath. There could still be some unopened stuff for your cough. If not, text me, and I’ll let something get to you.” Harry smiled wider and took a sip of tea before watching her intently. “How did I deserve you?” YN grinned at him, cocking her head to one side. “Asking myself the same question, love. But seriously, get some rest. And when I say rest, I mean the full blow of bedtime comfort and something on Netflix or Prime.” The singer saluted playfully. “Yes, ma’am,” he grinned before turning a tad serious again. “Will probably watch one of yours, so I at least can pretend you’re here. Miss you, darlin’.”
The tears tried to spill over again, so YN took a deep breath before answering, not trusting her voice entirely. “Miss you too, Harry. So, so much. But I’m faster back than you think, ‘promise. I love you. So, so, so much. Sleep tight later.” Both softly waved at one another. “Not as much as I love you, sweetheart. Have a good shoot later.” With a soft Thanks and See you later’s, they ended the call, and YN plopped back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling in the lonely, quiet apartment. She knew it was rash and born out of desperation, but she just had to do it.
So, she unlocked her phone again, grinning at the goofy wallpaper Harry and she had taken in front of the Statue of Liberty two years ago and scrolled through her contacts. “Hey, Jenn. I need a massive favor,” she spoke up after her manager had accepted her call.
;
Harry groaned at the feeling of his sore body after waking up from his restless and unsatisfying slumber, and the first thing he did was cough into the crook of his drenched hoodie. He groaned again after he finally could take a fresh breath of air into his constricting lungs and fought his slow way out of bed to shower and change into something not wet.
With half-closed eyes, he walked into the adjacent bathroom, turned on the shower to let it warm up, and shed his clothes and let them pile on the stone floor. He could take care of that later… Or when he felt better, whenever that might be.
He stood rather long under the hot water drizzling down on him like summer rain before Harry could push himself to leave the cozily warm glass cabin and wrap himself in a fluffy towel. Suddenly, a smell wafted into his nose that was clocked before the hot shower, and the scent let him stop in his tracks. It was her perfume—he could name it in a sea of scents if he had to. Blinking, the singer tried to scan the bathroom for the source; maybe he had accidentally sprayed it last night when he searched for the soap dispenser after not turning on the light? Slowly shaking his head, he dried himself and his hair shortly before changing into a new pair of sweatpants, fluffy socks, and a fresh hoodie. Taking out the cough syrup YN had mentioned two days ago, he took the needed dosage and left the bathroom to go downstairs to prepare a fresh batch of tea and maybe something to eat, though he really didn’t feel like it. But he knew what YN would do if she were here.
Harry yawned while slouching down the stairs but stopped at the end of the steps at the sound of used cutlery and boiling water. With growing confusion, the man rounded the corners and was faced with an angel in his kitchen—one of his Pleasing hoodies adorning her body with a pair of sports tights underneath. She hummed along to the tune of the song playing in the background—The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron, her favorite band—while she prepared the can he had used every day since getting sick and had something boiling on the stove. He felt joy rising in him, but the confusion was still very prominent.
Maybe he hallucinated because the fever was too high?
“Is this real, or is this only in my head?” He asked into the room, scaring her in the process of questioning, and with a low shriek and a slight jump, YN turned to him, a hand pressed over her heart. “Stop scaring the living daylight outta me!” She laughed softly as Harry came rushing over to her, grabby hands outstretched and getting a hold of her waist. Pulling her incredibly close to his chest, the man sighed as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her signature scent, which always brought him comfort, and tightening his hold on her. “Whatyadoinhere,” he mumbled, almost inaudible and incomprehensible against her soft skin, his eyes closed, his body finally relaxing.
Her fingers inside his hair tickled a satisfied moan out of him and pushed him to wrap his arms even tighter around YN, not wanting to let her go ever again. Her fingernails scratched gently along his scalp, just the way he liked, and he could feel her soft lips peppering kisses over the reachable part of his head. “I wanted to come home next week anyway, so we pushed a bit through the last couple of scenes, and Jenn got me the first available flight. Couldn’t let you be on your own. My heart almost broke when I saw you slouching around during that FaceTime, feeling miserable enough not to deal with taking care of yourself. So, that’s my job from now on again, ‘kay?” More gentle kisses followed her words, and Harry had never felt this loved and cherished. “A goddess and godsend,” he mumbled again against her skin and let her pull his face up so she could face him and see how he held up so far.
YN’s palm laid softly against his forehead—the contact alone almost made him swoon on the spot after so many weeks and months without her—and he watched her expressions, memorizing every single muscle movement all over again. “At least your fever is not too high. The world will look much better after a bowl of fresh soup and a fresh batch of tea.” She smiled up at him before pulling him at his neck down to her, pushing herself on her tiptoes, and softly kissing his warm cheeks one after the other. The tip of his nose was the last part accepting the tender peck of her lips.
She turned again to stir in the boiling pot, and Harry followed her like a puppy, wrapping his arms around her body again and pressing his face against her shoulder. “You won’t let go anytime soon, aren’t ya?” YN smiled a smile full of contentment as she added the noodles to the chicken broth and removed the tea bags from the pot to add the perfect amount of honey. He only shook his head but watched her doings with eagle eyes, furrowing his brows as she prepped him a mug and let him take it. “It’s just how I made it,” he murmured and taking a sip, closing his eyes, and humming softly. Just how he loved it. “Maybe it tasted different because I have a special ingredient, H,” YN chuckled and prepped two bowls of hot soup for them to enjoy as a late breakfast and an early lunch. “Tell me, please. Don’t wanna feel so helpless anymore if you’re not here, and I need your tea,” he pleaded with her, and the gorgeous woman turned in his arm, cupping his cheeks with both hands. “It’s cheesy but super easy.” Her smile made him almost feel healthy again. “I put an ounce of love into it. It’s what my grandma always told me. Everything tastes better when a loved one makes it for you.”
Almost on the verge of crying, Harry put his mug to the side and cupped her cheek, his other arm still tightly wrapped around her middle. “I don’t deserve you, my darling love,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead, not wanting to risk infecting her as well. YN continued to comb through his hair and rolled her eyes. “How often do I need to tell you that you, Harry Edward Styles, deserve the freaking fucking world?” He shrugged gently before nodding in the direction of the living room. “Cuddle with me, and I may be convinced of it this time,” he smiled, and with one last look, YN covered their soups and took the pot of tea with her. Harry already threw himself onto the couch, waiting impatiently for her to claim her spot, but first, she covered him with their favorite fluffy blanket. She made sure that he was perfectly covered before finally crawling underneath it as well and pressing her body against his.
“Come here, love,” she whispered invitingly, and Harry let his head heavily rest on her chest, his ear over her soothing heartbeat. He closed his eyes tiredly as she started to stroke through his hair again, scratching his scalp and neck, rubbing over his back. YN began to talk in a mumbling voice about everything and anything until she felt him slip back into slumber he definitely needed the most.
;
This got cheesier than anticipated, but this was born entirely from my need for self-indulgence, so we will live with it. Hope y’all enjoyed it! <3 As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated
taglist: @onecrazydirectioner @nyctophilic0vitnir
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yorshie · 6 months
Note
[Sees it's the last day for blurb day] [Runs to the asks and falls on my face] [Weakly holds up these prompts]
Yorkshire... may I please humbly request...
14. “Just let me sneak one more, no one has to know” and 16. “Just a little bit longer, no one’s going to miss us.”
With bayverse!Mikey x F!reader🥺🙏❤️
Thank You for Requesting for Blurb Day! Oh no, did the Mikey Well claim another victim? Whelp, pop a squat, there's plenty of room down here lol. Mr. Sunshine is out for us all. (edit: huh. apparently I am a one trick pony today. hm....)
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The light from the tv sent shadows running up and down the length of Mikey's bedroom walls, twisted limbs against the light and something that Mikey swore was suppose to be a dog, though you think he only insisted to hear you giggle over the absurdity of it.
The generators had kicked on a little while ago, spewing warm into every room, and at the sound Mikey had shared a look of glee with you before the pair of you bundled into his room to watch holiday movies and use the excuse of 'getting warm' to cuddle.
Now, with his body slowly warming from the heat of yours tucked against his side, and the 3rd movie droning on in the background, it seemed Mikey's mind had turned from simply making you giggle.
His thumb fitted underneath your jaw, tipping your head back to meet the soft press of his kisses. You closed your eyes at the little hum of happiness he gave at how easily you let it happen.
"You taste like peppermints," you whispered in between the chaste presses, and the arm tucked around your back shifted, his hand slowly sliding underneath your shirt to chase more warmth.
"You taste like sunshine." He countered, using your small noise of disbelief to lick against your lower lip, a smile threatening the curve of his mouth.
"You can't taste sunshine, Angelo." You mock scolded, scooting up in his arms only to be dragged across his plastron when he rolled to his opposite side and slotted a leg between yours.
"Did you just take my warm spot?" You asked, trying not to laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying in vain to pull yourself back, chasing the phantom warmth.
"hmmm... maybe," he cheekily responded, shifting his shell back and forth in the spot you had just vacated, "How else am i suppose to get warm, though?"
"You thief!" You let him kiss you again, sighing into the firm push before nudging his head sideways to bury into his neck. "No smooches for warm spot thieves." You grinned into his neck when his hands squeezed at your waist. "I should tattle on you, tell your brothers you only ever want to steal kisses when we hang out."
"Oh, come on sunshine, no one has to know I'm your favorite, just let me sneak one more smooch." He puckered, making the smooching noise in your ear, tickling you in the process.
You mock fought for a moment to get out of his grip, kicking your legs and doing nothing beyond making his arms tighten around you. Finally, you both stopped, giggles trailing off into soft touches, until Mikey took the opportunity to steal another quick kiss.
"Pretty sure everyone knows about us." You told him, softly, running your fingers over his cheeks and melting at the way he nuzzled into the touch.
"Course they do, I called dibs." He kissed each of your fingers, encouraging you with hands sliding up your back to lean back in. "Get close again baby, let me hold you for a little bit longer."
"Someone really will come looking for us if we hide much longer, Angelo," you murmured, following the push to press back up against him, shivering at how cool his skin felt under the blankets.
"No one's gonna miss us, or come looking, I promise." He nuzzled into your neck, churring a little when you wrapped your arms around him again. "Let's just nap for a little bit, sunshine."
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illunicae · 17 days
Text
I See the Light
You recognize the title then you know where this is going. Fluffy lantern scene from the Tangled movie.
Pairing: Rise Leo x Female Reader
I'm honestly thinking of doing the whole movie so if you're interested then let me know!
The night was tranquil. You couldn’t quite see the stars behind the clouds but that was okay, you had your heart set on a different sight anyway. You could hear the soft splash of water every time you dropped a delicate flower into the sea. Leonardo sat next to you in the boat. He held more flowers in his palm from helping you pull out a few extra. You knew you had plenty weaved into the large braid of your hair. 
You grabbed a purple flower from his palm with a soft smile and dropped it into the water just like the previous flowers and it drifted out a little, surrounding the reflection of the kingdom. Because you were so focused on the water and reflection, you immediately noticed the small golden fleck rising from the castle. Your eyes widened in realization. 
All those days watching from the windows
You looked up to see the single glowing light drifting higher in the sky. 
All those years outside looking in
As the boat drifted, you scrambled to your feet, needing to get a better view. Leonardo fell back, off balance from the sudden movement; the flowers in his hand went flying into the water. You barely stumbled as you raced to the bow of the boat, throwing your arms around the decorative curl to keep yourself from falling as the boat rocked. 
All that time never even knowing
As you watched the first lantern rise, a ton more began floating from the base of the castle, casting the area in a warm yellow glow. 
Just how blind I've been
You exhaled in disbelief. It was happening. Really happening. You were gonna see the lights you’ve been dreaming about for 18 years. 
Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight 
Even from the larger boats closer to the docks, you saw hundreds of lanterns being let go. Hundreds of lanterns floating up to replace the stars in the sky.
Now I'm here, suddenly I see
From everywhere in the kingdom lanterns floated freely toward the sky. 
Standing here, it's all so clear 
I'm where I'm meant to be
In awe you could only stare as the lanterns drifted up on the night breeze.
And at last I see the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
The lanterns were everywhere, and it was more beautiful than you could ever appreciate from your windowsill in that tower.
And at last I see the light
And it's like the sky is new
With a smile on your lips, and a heart pounding in your chest, you leaned against the curl of the boat, your cheek against your hands as you admired the perfect view. 
And it's warm and real and bright
The lanterns danced around above you, circling each other and surrounding everything. Warm light illuminating the night.
And the world has somehow shifted
A wish that forever felt out of your reach, suddenly sat in your palm. You got your dream. What now? You looked down slightly in thought, watching the reflections in the water. Your heart twisting slightly as you found yourself thinking about a certain thief who made this dream a reality.
All at once everything looks different
Golden light graced the side of your face. A light a lot closer than any of the other lanterns in the sky. Curious, you turned and saw Leonardo holding two lanterns with the softest smile on his face. 
Now that I see you
Your heart skipped a beat and you excitedly moved down from your perch at the bow of the boat to sit across from Leonardo. Humming, you smiled brightly as he offered out the lanterns. Your mind drifted to the satchel you stuck by your spot in the boat. 
“I have something for you too.” You admitted reaching over to the hidden bag. With a grin, you produced it and the crown nestled inside. 
Leonardo looked slightly surprised to see it, but he blinked that away and looked at you.
“I should have given it to you before, but I was just scared.” You glanced off to the side as you explained. “And the thing is…I’m not scared anymore. You know what I mean?” You asked as you glanced back up to meet his gaze.
His gaze was soft as he reached out and lowered the satchel without ever looking at it, his full attention was on you. “I’m starting to.” He said.
You grinned softly, your heart skipping more beats for the turtle that stole your heart. He handed you one of the lanterns, your fingertips brushing as you moved to cup it. Together you both slowly lifted your lanterns, letting them join the massive amount around you. 
All those days chasing down a daydream
You both watched the lanterns for as long as you could as they spun around each other. Until they got lost among the many.
All those years living in a blur
All that time, never truly seeing
Things the way they were
Leo watched the lanterns with awe. Everything around was bathed in golden light. The sea had turned to gold as the light reflected everywhere. It was truly a beautiful sight, but as his gaze dropped his smile settled into a different type of admiration as he stared at the most beautiful woman he ever did see: you. 
Now she's here, shining in the starlight
You were leaning over the edge of the boat taking in the light with the brightest smile, the hundreds of lanterns reflected in your eyes making them glitter light the night sky. 
Now she's here, suddenly I know
He watched as you looked out across the water and noticed something. You gestured for him to see too before you pointed at what you saw: a lantern different from all the rest with a golden sun decorating it.
You reached across the water as the lantern floated closer. It looked like the thing might get wet, but you managed to brush your fingertips along a bottom edge and guide it back up into the sky. Leonardo was hardly looking at the lantern.
If she's here, it's crystal clear
His eyes dart down to your hands resting against the edge of the boat. He made up his mind and reached for your hand with his.
I'm where I'm meant to go
Leonardo gently cups your hand with his. You glanced toward him with wide eyes. Your heart pounding as you scooted slightly closer to him. 
“And at last I see the light.” Both your hands interlocked as the lanterns became backdrop while you stared into each other’s eyes.
“And it's like the fog has lifted.” His voice was melodic.
“And at last I see the light.”
“And it's like the sky is new.”
“And it's warm and real and bright and the world has somehow shifted. All at once, everything is different. Now that I see you.” Leonardo pulled your hands closer to him as you both found yourselves leaning toward each other. His hand let go of one of yours and reached up to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. “Now that I see you.”
His hand came to rest cupping your jaw as his thumb brushed your cheek. His eyes glittered with the golden light and you tilted your head as you both leaned in more. Leonardo seemed to pull you closer. You closed your eyes as you felt his warm breath against your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt like you were glowing brighter than all the lanterns around you. With bated breath, you waited for him to close the miniscule distance. Oh, how you wanted him to kiss you then.
But he never did.
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apomaro-mellow · 11 months
Text
Part 3
Do yall got a favorite cereal mascot? Mine’s the Honey Nut Cheerios bee
Steve watched as Eddie dazzled a field trip of elementary students by having a load of birds up and down both arms, perched on his gangly limbs like branches. This demon, who had shown him more human compassion than his own parents. This demon, who Steve would only be able to be around so long as his wish was unfulfilled...
They were around snakes next and Steve got to watch as Eddie entertained a different group of children by letting a large snake curl around his shoulders after a quick ‘don’t try this at home, kids’. Eddie kept the more adventurous occupied, while Steve got to have a small moment with a boy who was more apprehensive around snakes.
He felt a surge of triumph and warmth when he was able to get the boy confident enough to pet the snake that was coiled around his wrist. The boy lit up like a whole new world had been opened up for him. Steve was beginning to understand the feeling.
“So?”, Eddie asked as they walked the path between exhibits. “What about this?”
“I like animals. And kids. And being outdoors”, Steve said.
“So is it a winner?”
Steve thought about it. “Don’t people usually feel like a...a spark or something? Something that makes it feel like their calling?”
“Is that what you want? A calling?”
Steve nodded. “Something that makes me really feel like I belong.”
“Then we’ll find that place”, Eddie promised him.
“Before we go, can we see the tigers? They’re my favorite.”
As if Eddie was going to deny him anything now. They stood outside the tiger enclosure and Steve watched them move about, lighting up a little when he saw one of them had a cub tailing after it. Meanwhile, Eddie watched Steve. Beautiful, beautiful Steve.
After the zoo stint, Eddie took them through a door that took them back into the apartment.
“We’re here again?”, Steve questioned, back into the t-shirt and sweats he put on that morning. He looked to the door and tried opening it himself, but it was locked shut.
“We’ve had a big, full day. And little mortals need their sleep. And that door only works for me, by the way. Even if you did get it open, you’d be falling through an endless void until it chose where to spit you up.”
“What are we gonna do for the rest of the day, then?”
“Now we get to do what I want”, Eddie waggled his brows and his voice got deep and for a moment Steve felt a bit like prey.
He didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed when Eddie sat him down on the small couch and put a movie on.
“So tigers are your favorite animal, huh?”
“Yeah”, Steve replied as the movie started.
“Alright”, Eddie got comfortable next to Steve and grinned. The kind of grin that worried Steve. “Fuck, marry, kill - Tony the Tiger, Count Chocula, the Trix Rabbit.”
For a moment, Steve just sat there, dumbfounded by the question. While Eddie waited expectantly. When Steve finally found his voice, it was in spurts and bursts.
“Why would you-how would you even-fuck?! First of all, Tony is a mentor. He’s a coach, he’s not gonna fuck his players. And I wouldn’t kill him.”
“Okay, you’d marry Tony. Good to know.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“And the rabbit?”
“I wouldn’t marry a rabbit either. Or fuck one.”
“Kill the Trix Rabbit. He’s a cereal thief anyway. So that just leaves the Count...and one choice left...”, Eddie smirked.
Steve took a second to catch up and his jaw dropped. “No.”
“You landed on marry Tony, kill the Trix Rabbit. By process of elimination that means-”
“I wouldn’t fuck Count Chocula!”
“Why not?”
“First of all, he’s a cartoon-”
“Irrelevant to the conversation.”
“Second, he’s not even a real vampire. He’s a chocolate vampire.”
Eddie turned to sit on his side, facing Steve more while draping his arm across the back of the couch. “Are you gonna change any of your answers?”
Steve’s arms crossed as he seriously contemplated it. Eddie knew he was in deep trouble when he could just stare at him sitting there for hours.
“What’re you thinkin’ about, gorgeous?”
“Tony the Tiger would be a good husband. He’s great with kids”, Steve answered and tried not to think about how warm he got when Eddie called him that. “And the Trix Rabbit is notoriously bad with children.”
“Hey, Steve?”
“What?”
“You’re a vampire fucker.”
“Did you put a movie on just so we could ignore it?”
“I was just getting a feel”, Eddie said. “There’s two kinds of people who enjoy Robin Hood.”
“I don’t even wann know what kind of people you’re referring to”, Steve said with a shake of his head. Then a thought occurred to him. “You know, you’re kinda like a vampire.”
Eddie’s brain shot to the moon with what Steve could be implying and where this conversation could take them.
“....Go on.”
“You’re ancient and you need to drink blood.”
Eddie gasped. “Ancient? I don’t look a day over 20 and I have the stamina of a demon half my age.”
“And the blood?”
“Well you know that’s true.”
Steve’s gaze dropped from Eddie’s and went back to the screen as he began. “Speaking of...”
“Speaking of?”
“Don’t you need some now?” Steve looked back at him.
“’Need’ is a strong word.” But ‘want’? ‘Desire’? He was leaning heavily towards ‘lust’ at this point. Eddie’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Steve’s eyes followed the motion. It felt like they were teetering towards something.
Steve thrust his hand out towards Eddie. “Here. Considering that coffee you made, I think your body could use this.”
Eddie took the hand without thinking, let his thumb stroke Steve’s knuckles. There was a prominent vein sticking out on the back of his hand and Eddie wanted to follow it to Steve’s heart with his lips. But as it were, receiving a bite on the back of the hand was probably pretty painful.
Instead, he held Steve’s hand delicately. Eddie held eye contact with him as he bit down in the meat between his thumb and index finger. He was rewarded with seeing Steve’s eyes flutter as he broke the skin. What was even sweeter than the blood on his tongue was the blush growing on Steve’s cheeks.
Eddie only sipped for a couple of moments, knowing that if he indulged, he wouldn’t know when to stop. He licked at Steve’s hand to heal the pricked skin but couldn’t release him just yet.
“You wanna ask me something”, Eddie surmised, looking into his eyes.
“I wanna ask you...for something. But I don’t know if I can.”
“Is it the kind of thing you’ve asked for before?”
The corner of Steve’s lips pulled up. “Not verbally, no. I’ve always just like, put out a vibe or something.”
“Try me then”, Eddie smirked.
Steve looked down at their hands, still in each other’s grasp and slowly put his fingers between Eddie’s. His other hands moved to cup Eddie’s face, his fingers getting lost in that curtain of hair.
“Come here”, Steve nearly whispered as he pulled him in for a kiss.
Part 5
Tag Team
@swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @lololol-1234 @chaoticvictorianspirit @giopandaonice @marklee-blackmore @blackpanzy @kacatshi
@stevesbipanic @goodolefashionedloverboi @panicatthediaz @gregre369 @littlewildflowerkitten @starryeyedpoet17 @envyadams-vs-me @abbiecadabi-blog
@genderless-spoon  @stxrcrossed186 @l0st-strawberry @willowsmelody @bornonthesavage @mxmakessense @roaringgoodshow @potato-of-the-lord @actualwakingnightmare @meccaminayah
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emithecharmer · 1 year
Text
Cold Confessions
Reader is sick, swearing, kissing, friends to lovers, fluff, food, sorry for any mistakes!!
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"Delivery for N/n, your best friend is here with food!" You heard Changbin exclaim from outside the door to your apartment.
"Binnie.." You whined as you opened the door.
"Oh my poor sick baby." He pouted, rushing forward to give you a hug.
"Mm, you'll get sick." You warned, letting him hug you anyway.
"Ah, I need a day off anyways." You giggled as he pulled away to shut the door.
"How do you feel? Hot?"
"Thanks for noticing." You winked, lifting your leg a little.
"Okay, so definitely a high fever.." He teased, laughing when you flicked his arm.
"I do feel warm, maybe it's because I have a sweatshirt on though." You noted.
"Well take it off- Is that my sweatshirt?" He paused as he looked at the design.
"Yeah, you left it here last week." You said.
"Ohhh, I thought I'd lost it, you little thief." He said, bringing you in for a slightly aggressive back-hug.
"Finders keepers." You said, wiggling out of his hold, making both of you giggle.
"I'll make dinner, why don't you start a movie of something?" He offered, causing you to hug him again.
"I love you." You smiled at him.
"Mhm, you love food." He rolled his eyes as he said it, making you giggle as you walked back into the living room.
.
"Shit.." You moaned, turning away from the tv's bright light.
"Migraine?" Changbin asked, immediately turning off the tv, glaring quickly at the device that had caused you pain.
"Yeah, I feel nauseous." You furrowed your brows as you felt your stomach churn.
"Do you need to go to the bathroom?" Changbin asked, standing up, ready to help you if need be.
"No..Can I be a boring host and lay down though?" He smiled at your weak tone, before nodding.
"Yeah, do you mind if I lay with you?" You nodded your head.
"If you don't mind me getting even more sick cooties on you." You said. Changbin internally cheered at the fact that you still had a sense of humor, usually when he was sick he got annoyed easily.
"Here, and I'll go get a few things." He said after helping you to your bed. He disappeared for a minute before returning with a trash bin and some medicine.
"Open your eyes for a few seconds and take these meds, and the bin is here if you need it okay?" You nodded, taking the medicine he'd offered. You were already half asleep by the time Changbin had changed into some extra clothes he'd left there, and crawled in bed.
"Hey bin..?" You whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I love you, so much." You smiled sleepily, reaching up a bit to kiss his jaw. He smiled softly at you and gathered the courage to tell you how he felt in the morning. The last thing you remembered was a warm feeling on your shoulder before you drifted off.
"Night pretty girl." Changbin smiled, nuzzling into your shoulder, he'd noticed you were cold and wanted to cuddle you in order to help warm you up.
.
"Morning Binnie." He smiled as he saw you walk out of the bathroom.
"Feel better?" He asked and you nodded, walking up and back-hugging him for a few seconds.
"Thanks for taking care of me." You smiled, shyly.
"It's what best friends are there for." He said, noting the way your eyes darted to the floor before coming back up.
"Yeah, best friends.."
"Except, you don't want to be just friends, right?" He asked cautiously.
"W-Huh?" Your head jerked up.
"Oh..please tell me you meant what you said last night, or did I just completely ruin our friendship?" He asked, seeming panicked.
"Oh God, what did I say?"
"You loved me." You felt your heart stop for a second, seeing the vulnerable look on his face.
"..Do you?" He asked, his tone softer.
"That depends on what your response would be.." You glanced back to the floor, not noticing Changbin getting closer until he was right in front of you. He brought his hand up to you cheek, bringing you closer to him and kissing your deeply.
"I'm so, so in love with you, Y/n." He whispered after pulling away, only to be pulled back in by you for another kiss.
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honey-minded-hivemind · 4 months
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Platonic Yandere duo rouge and Gambit and child that's from the future reader who's their future child
Ooooooo! Thank you, @surpiseadoption ! Okay, now that's a gold nugget! Let's see what I can do:
As members of the X-Men, strange was as normal to them as the sky being blue or Magneto showing up and causing trouble. Still, some things happened to surprise them, just... nothing like this before-
"Mama! Papa! You look younger! Oh! Hi Uncle Wolvie!" shouts a child, no older than six, who waves at them with the brightest smile and bright pink eyes. And suddenly their world became a lot weirder.
It turns out that this child is from the future. Their future. And is their child. It's shocking, not just because Rogue hasn't hasn't able to touch people due to her powers. How... how did she and the swamp rat get together? For Gambit, well... this petit is quite cute, and is a sure sign he and Rogue were made for each other. They both know (in a sixth sense sort of way) that they like each other. That they want to give it a try. But the fact they had a kid...
They didn't exactly think that far yet.
The child is sweet, running up to everyone and hugging their legs, asking to tag along with them (and following following anyways even if they said no), just doing their best to stay by them, talking about the smallest things to the gossip they overheard from the others and pulling them into games when they can... Yet it's kinda weird having a kid who insists they're married and in love-
"Sugah, why are ya tryin' ta give Gambit a kiss?"
"Cause you said if we gave him kisses, he'd turn into a prince, instead of a frog thief."
"... Uh-huh..."
"It's like that frog from the movie!"
"Well, he certainly IS as slimy as one..."
It's kinda cute, having a little tot trailing them. It's less funny when they set their clothes on fire with their powers.
"Petit, how'd ya daw this taw yaself?!"
"I got your splosions! 'M likea fireworwk!"
"Gambit's gonna be likea a dead man if he don't put ya out... Wait, get back here, bébé!"
Some of their teammates find it endearing, having a tyke running around. Wolverine and Storm especially like them, as they keep getting them involved in their schemes. Those schemes being to get the two of them together.
"Why'd ya say ya needed me in the kitchen, honey?"
"Cause I'm hungry, and yous make good food."
"Then why's he here?"
"He makes good food, too!"
"Just make the kid something ta eat, or they'll start to pickpocket everyone until they find something," Logan snorts, but pats Reader on the head before leaving.
"...Ya taught 'em ta pickpocket?"
"Yaw didn't?"
"No, I learned-ed it from Uncle Toawd!"
"...We need ta get ya better friends, sugah..."
"... Gambit agrees..."
They end up keeping Reader with one of them at all times, once they realize they don't have the best control of their power. Making explosions of light and energy isn't good if you're a six-year-old who falls every five minutes. They've lost count of how many times they've had to pick them up from the floor or grab them so so don't fall down the stairs. How did they ever manage to keep their- this child alive?!
Their problem comes when they disappear one day.
They woke up, hoping to find Reader sleeping with one of them, only to find their beds empty, with no giggling child waiting to hug them good morning. Their worry only grew as their friends and team couldn't find the kid, even the Professor using Cerebro and Wolverine using his senses couldn't find the kid... Their kid...
And when did it get to that? That that was THEIR kid? It hurts, that they're gone, likely back to their time...
But they DID do something...
They brought the two of them together.
And in a few years... maybe they'll be able to bring their kid into the world.... And this time... They aren't going to lose them. Their kid brought them together, and once they've gotten their bebe, they're going going be the best parents they can. That's their mon petit bébé, and they'll be d*mned if anything gets in the way of them coming back.
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