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kittycatcock · 11 months

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"i need to know everything u think about me doing to u" oh okay o/////////o well i guess i'd better tell you about this embarrassing one too. imagine: you've invited me over to your place to "hang out" (for whatever you wish to take that to mean :3c) and, the way we have it planned, we're meant to hang out for most of the day, maybe hit up some restaurants or the movies, do..... whatever..... at your place, and then i'll probably leave as it starts to get dark. what i don't know, though, is that you've got some secret plans for us.

it's getting on the later side, and we've just finished having dinner at your place. i thank you again for having me over, and we have a nice little moment :3 however i then excuse myself to go use the bathroom. you offer to show me where it is, which confuses me. i've already used it a couple of times throughout the day, remember? you already showed me where it is. you insist, so while i think it's odd, i don't argue and let you go ahead.

you reach the door to the bathroom and stand in the entrance. "here it is!" you proclaim. "i can see that....." i say. it's right where it was before. i reach the door as well and wait for you to step out so i can go in. you do not. we have a few seconds of uneasy silence. "umm. kitty?" i ask. "do you think you could. ummm. well it's just that. you're sort of blocking the doorway." you nod and smile. you are in fact doing that, and you acknowledge it. "could you... please move? i. i was hoping to. get in there?" i'm more confused than ever, as well as more anxious. i really need to pee; you got me a suspiciously large drink with dinner, which i hadn't pointed out so as not to be rude, but it's really hitting me hard now.

you ask me what the matter is. "i... i just. need to pee." i get a little bashful at having to state it in such certain terms, but i'm earnestly trying to clear up whatever unusual communication malfunction seems to be happening here. you tell me that's okay, i can go right ahead. you don't move an inch. i shift uncomfortably, both from the conversation and the building pressure inside me. i'm not sure what to do.

seeing my indecision, you tell me again that i'm free to go whenever i wish, maybe even sounding a little weary, as though i'm the one putting on a charade here. "kitty, please," i say. "i don't know what the issue is here. i just need to get right past you, into the bathroom. i... i have to go really bad, and i don't know why you're keeping me out here. if this keeps up, i'll literally just end up pissing my pants. is that what you......" i trail off, because your expression changes as i'm talking. you start looking reallyyyy excited, and you puff up as if to make sure once and for all that the door is completely blocked. it finally clicks.

"oh my god." is all i can say at first. "oh my god, is that... you WANT that??? you...." i can't even say it, i'm so embarrassed. my face turns bright red, my eyes get big, and i back up a step. that drink wasn't as big as it was for no reason, apparently. "kitty, that's... come on. you can't.... you can't do that to me," i whine. you can, and you tell me as much. your place, your rules, and right now you're ruling that if i have to go, i've only got one option when it comes to location.

i try to bargain, and think of what else i could give you in return for being spared from this indignity. "what if... ummm. if i bark for you? if i bark really cute on all fours, will you please let me use the bathroom instead of..... that?" you pretend to think about it, and tell me "maybe :3." i'm less than reassured, but i'm also desperate, so i get down on my hands and knees. "woof woof woof, arf arf ruff ruff ruff!!!" all i get from you is laughter, and you explain that dogs don't use toilets like people, so why should you allow me that privilege? i don't have an answer.

i start to get a little frustrated. "yeah? well... w-what if i just forced my way right past you? what then? gonna stop me?" you tell me that i'm too pathetic to do that. i go for it anyway, trying to duck under your left arm and get past. i don't even make it to the doorframe before you grab me by the neck and pin me to the wall, growling and telling me not to test your patience. i immediately crumble, whimpering and apologizing and promising not to pull anything like that again. lucky for you, you also startle me enough that my sense of control is beat out by base instinct, and a small wet spot on my pants quickly expands and soaks me. i immediately start crying from humiliation, and you get to revel in the absolute fucking sight of what you've made out of me, humiliating me even further by making fun.

cut to a little bit later, when i'm getting cleaned up. you finally let me through the door to use the shower. since i wasn't planning on Any Of This, i don't have any backup clothes, so you generously give me a set of yours to borrow. you also insist on "helping" with certain parts of clean-up, which is distracting enough on its own, but one of the genuinely nice parts is that you help wash my hair. not directly related to play, but it's sweet and i enjoy it a lot in the moment.....

when the sun goes down and we're finished with all, i start to think about how sad i am to be leaving. you look at me with confusion, asking (although it doesn't really sound like a question) if i'm not staying the night. i hesitate, not wanting to impose but very much liking the sound of that. you don't wait for an answer, and get us set up in the bedroom for the night. as we huddle in bed, the final piece of your plan becomes clear: now that i'm dressed in your clothes and have had my hair washed with your shampoo, i smell like you from head to toe, a sign of your possession of me. you get your paws around me, satisfied to have entirely marked me as yours as we drift to sleep.

(you're 100% free to refrain from publishing if you prefer, i won't mind, but either way that's what i'm thinking about!! sorry it's really long. blushes hard. love you kitty <3)

🐶 <girl who realized she's into this type of stuff like literally an hour ago

O//////O this is so unbelievably hott.. theres no way i could keep this to myself, my little 🐶. everyone, imagine how cute our dear 🐶 here would be, face burnt red, eyes full of big tears, all embarrassed for having an accident inside like a bad dog. thats what id be after with my mean little kitty plans here i think ;3 after a nice little day together, seeing u be soooooo humiliated for being a bad dog, bc ur a good dog ofc! but good dogs dont have accidents inside. the cognitive dissonance would be enough to fry ur little doggy brain, and that would be just. an irresistible sight to me. why i think i would concoct a whole mean plan just to see that <3

also.. imagining umm helping u clean up in the shower tho too 0w0 giving u the full pity voice to distract u while my paws lather ur fur "its okay puppy, really. we all have accidents, don't we?" reassuring u of how much of a good dog u really are despite what happened, while refusing to acknowledge any paw i had in making it happen hehe ;3c (umm touching boobs soapey in the shower Also this is a must.)

but then after all that embarrassment, despite u knowing what kitty made u do, somehow ur eager to stay just one night. but just one night and ull be marked as mine, stuck with kittys scent 0w0. and ull be wrapped in her soft arms drifting off soundly, but u just cant be sure of what other plans kitty may have tucked away for u :3 <3

#phew. anyway its uh. its really good o////////////o #took me like a day to calm down about this #thank u for sharing u really are such a good girl <3 #and love u too🐶<3 #fav #<so i can return to this..... uhh uummm for no reason #kittys mewsings :3

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binnieboyswhore · 3 years

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Studio Time SCB

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Genre: smut Word count:1,649 Warnings: It’s changbin smut so theres light choking and some cockwarming at the end. (if theres anything else i need to put let me know please!) Authors note: It’s been 2 years since I’ve written anything so please be nice, this is gunna be ruff lmao

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

You sat on the studio couch watching Changbin hunched over his laptop mixing a new song Chan had left for him. You didn’t mind being here at first but that was 8 hours ago and on a Saturday that Changbin had promised you a movie marathon.

You huffed to yourself while looking down at your phone. Changbin, oblivious to you with headphones on both ears, had a wrinkled up forehead from concentrating. You got up from the couch walking towards him grabbing his shoulder causing him to remove his headphones from one ear and turn his chair towards you. In this new position you took your shot and sat on his lap straddling his thighs.

“I know baby, give me like an hour more” he says looking up at you and rubbing the side of your thigh.

“I just wanted to tell you some fun facts that I read about to give you a little break.” You said fixing your skirt so it’s spread out around you.

He took his headphones and put them beside his laptop to give you his undivided attention, “okay you’ve got 10 minutes and then I have to get back to work.” He says grabbing the back of your thighs. The touch dampens your underwear a bit and you try to control your posture.

You grab either side of his face rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Well first fun fact is I love you,” you bent down and kissed his nose.

“And I love your cheeks,” you slightly pinch them before kissing them.

He let out a little chuckle trying to reach your lips to kiss you but you lay your index finger on his lips as if to hush him, “right now is my time,” you say before continuing.

“And this chin,” your thumb grazing it ever so lightly, “I love this chin.” You kiss it.

Your hands going down his shoulders and biceps in a massaging manor, “and these arms, God, I fucking love these arms.” You try to stop yourself from moaning at the last minute but he flexes under your hands and your brain brakes for a second. He loved the effect he had on you even while he was a bit bashful about it with pink cheeks.

You continued on, grabbing his hands, “and your hands,” you said remembering how they touched you a few nights ago, pulling your hair and pinning you against walls, only further dampening your underwear. “God do I love these hands and how versatile they are.” You say before kissing his palms.

You feel him shutter a bit as you run your hands down his body, “I also love love this body.” You say looking into his eyes, feeling how bad he wants to kiss you.

You bring your hands to clasp around his neck, “and finally my personal favorite, your thighs. I am madly in love your thighs'' you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down, as his Jean clad thigh made contact with you through your underwear you let out a needy moan.

His hands automatically went to your waist as he let a grunt out, you can feel you’ve worked him up quite a bit. You sat there staring at him a bit surprised at your own actions then one of his hands creeped it’s way up your torso and around your throat.

The little pressure he applied made your eyes roll back, “fuck, y/n I love you too.” He groaned out before attaching his lips to yours.

The kiss filled with nothing but desperation and need for each other. Your hands grabbing at his hoodie trying to find the bottom to slide your hands under, once you do he flinches back.

“Are you okay?” You asked shocked

“Ya, your hands are just so cold.” He grabs your hands cupping them in his while he blows hot air into them. You stared down at him, watching how caring he was towards you made your heart swell ten fold for him.

You bent over to whisper in his ear, him still blowing in your hands, “Hey, can I get my hands back, I’m trying to fuck my boyfriend.” You kissed right under his ear as he groaned and released your hands.

“Thank you.” You whispered kissing along his cheek to his mouth where he thrusted his body into it making you moan at the contact of his bulge rubbing against you.

“Jesus” you let out between moans. Binnie slips his hand at the nape of your neck pulling your hair and exposing your neck.

“Funny that’s not my name” he nearly growled into your ear sucking a hickey into the side of your throat. You whimper at the new contact reaching between the two of you to unzip his pants and pull his member out giving him a few pumps to make sure he’s hard.

You tuck his zipper and button inside his pants to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything. You move your underwear over just enough and line him up with your entrance. Lowering yourself slowly, taking binnie inch by inch, you both breath hard and let out strings of moans till he was bottomed out. Slowly you start to roll your hips on top of him causing him to lean his head back against his chair letting out a huff of breath and a soft “fuck”.

You place your hands on top of his shoulders and he places his on your hips helping you gain a rhythm as you lift yourself up and down. Binnie goes to lift your shirt but you force his hands away, “someone might come in” you try to get out between heavy breaths and moans.

He shakes his head, “it's Saturday nobody is here.”

He looks at you waiting for an answer patiently, you shake your head yes trusting him. He slides your shirt over your head throwing it in the direction of the couch. He leans himself forward, angling himself in you from a new angle causing you to let out a rather slutty moan and grinding down on him a bit harder. He grabs on to your sides as you continue to grind into him.

��Fuck I don’t know if i’m going to be able to last much longer if you keep doing that.” He starts decorating your chest with kisses and bruises. You moan out clenching your walls around him as he makes his way to your breast, leaving wet open mouth kisses across your very sensitive niples. You begin to focus on the motion of your hips and the feeling of his mouth and start to feel overwhelmed. The very familiar knot in your tummy building up and up till you can’t hold it back for much longer.

“Binnie,” you moan out, “I’ve gotta… i’m gunna… fuck binnie you’re gunna make me come.”

He grunts at the feeling of you clenching around him and your whines driving him insane. He digs his fingers into your back as he looks up at you, pupils blown out, “fuck baby cum for me.”

He bites into the side of your breast causing you to allow your long awaited orgasm to tear through your body. Since nobody was in the building you didn’t stay quiet, screaming Binnies name over and over, yelling about how good he made you feel. Chanting his name as if you were trying to summon him during some spell, which in some way you were.

Changbin feeding off your screams and unable to withstand the fluttering of your walls around his dick held you close to his chest as he very sloppily rutted his hips into you, releasing with a series of grunts and moans as he moaned out “y/n you feel so good.”

After you have both completely ridden out your highs you go to get off of him but he grabs your hips, “Grab your shirt and I’ll clean us up, I’ll give you my hoodie. Then I want you to sit right here till I’m finished with this track and then I promise we can go home.” He patted his lap.

You get up grabbing your shirt and tossing it to Binnie as he tossed his hoodie at you. Sliding it on you immediately start smelling the sleeves, “You’re entirely too cute right now for someone who just climbed on top of me and fucked her own brains out like that.” Binnie said smirking and dragging your wet shirt up the inside of your thighs and gently cleaning you off.

You wait till he’s finished cleaning himself off and tossed your shirt next to his bag. You raise your leg to straddle him again, watching him pump himself again. He notices the questioning look on your face, “You always like it when I let you cockwarm after, I figured since i’ve taken forever you can. Of course only if you want to” he says sheepishly

You smile at him leaning to kiss him, “Please.” You whispered on his lips. Getting on his lap he slips himself inside gracing your aching walls so slow you let out a small whimper.

“If you’re not ready for round two dont make those pretty noises.” He said hands on your hips, guiding you down making sure you can’t rut them against him.

“I just like the way you make me feel so whole when you’re in me like this.” You barely whisper your warm breath hitting his neck.

Once he bottoms out in you you cuddle into his neck closing your eyes. He slides his headphones back on his head leaving one off his ear in case you needed something while he finished the track.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he rubs your back “we’re only gonna be here for a little while longer.”

“Mmm I’m not.” you mumble into his neck before closing your eyes to rest them.

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

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Love (Ruff) You More

Pairing: Mark Tuan x female reader

Genre: fluff / domestic au / established relationship

Warnings: some bad dog habits led to this becoming an idea, lol. Mentioning of sexual intercourse but no actual smut scene present.

A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely @giantmuschroom who loves dogs just as much as I do and I’ve been planning on writing this story for her birthday since last year, haha! Sorry that I’m a couple days late in sharing it with you, Ela! <3

Word count: 1871

“Do you want to stay over?” you asked softly. Mark took his gaze off the TV screen to look at you immediately, a smile growing across his face. You grew hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head before going back to the movie.

You couldn’t concentrate, however. Now that you had asked your boyfriend to stay the night, you were excited. It wasn’t just about the physical aspect either. You wanted nothing more than to wake up next to Mark and bask in the glory of the morning after. The idea of waking up snuggled into his side sounded so blissful, you started to grin giddily at the imagery within your mind.

Your fantasy was interrupted rudely, much as your snuggle session right now. Your dog Luna woke up from the brief nap she had at your feet and launched up at you both, pushing herself in between you.

“Luna!” you exclaimed sternly, but the large dog refuted your cry by sitting down on top of you, her loyal eyes staring at you hopelessly.

Mark chuckled. “She sure doesn’t like it when I give you attention, huh?”

“I’ve spoiled her, like a fool,” you replied with a sigh, shunting the dog off your lap, only for her to start whining and scoot closer. You smiled awkwardly at Mark. “I wasn’t expecting to date any time soon.”

“Did you plan to be forever alone?” he teased, and you shrugged.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. You had tried dating in the past. University years were hard. You were awkward and shy and spent more time studying for your degree than figuring out how to become more social. You did try, but it always felt a bit off. You never felt quite accepted when out at parties or the campus bar.

So you turned to online dating. You found it easier to converse online, though weeding through the guys who only wanted one thing from you made the list of decent options pretty small. Again, you met up with only a small amount of guys before you decided it wasn’t really working out.

Your energy once graduated shifted to your career and being a librarian didn’t exactly lead to secret rendezvous in the back aisles as you had read of in romance books. It was actually a rather solitary job, one in which had systems and cataloguing at the forefront. You were often busy from start to finish of every shift, and the small interaction you had was with students looking for class materials, not for someone to press into a bookshelf.

And so, you adopted your canine companion. Raising Luna brought you immense joy, and you weren’t alone anymore. You shared your bed with her, ate dinner together, and curled up on the couch watching a movie often. Sure, Luna wasn’t fulfilling your hopeless romantic needs, but she did allow you to nurture someone.

You had been content being just you two.

Smiling at Mark, you reached over Luna to link your hand with his. “She’ll adapt, much as I have with having someone like me back.”

“I’m not too bothered by her. But I am growing sleepy,” he mentioned slyly, running circles over your hand with his thumb.

Standing up, you pulled Mark to his feet and lead the way down to your bedroom. And before you got too caught up in the desire building between you both, you stopped at the door, turning to Luna.

“Stay here,” you told her, shutting the door so her jealousy couldn’t interrupt the passion that was about to flow between you both.

It wasn’t that easy, though.

She wailed at the door the entire time, scratching it in desperation to get into you.

Breathing heavily after climaxing together, Mark shook his head. “She’s too upset. We should let her in.”

“You’re right. Before the wails turn to barking and she wakes up the neighbours,” you agreed, slipping out from under the blankets and moving over to the door. Luna came bounding inside the room, leaping up onto the bed and examined the situation.

Slipping back under the covers, you moved instinctively towards Mark. “She always sleeps at the end of the bed so we should-”

Luna crawled up between you then, and being as large as she was, she pushed you both apart. Shooting Mark an apologetic expression, you then pointed to the end of the bed. “Luna, move!”

Luna didn’t budge.

Pushing her away only worked for a moment, as she shifted right back up to your side, glaring at Mark’s position in your bed.

“It’s fine,” he offered, patting the dog lightly. “She’s not used to me being here and probably wants to protect you.”

“From what?” you asked, shaking your head. “I don’t understand, she loves you normally.”

“Maybe she just needs time to adjust to me being in bed with you.”

“I’m sorry. This isn’t how I imagined you staying over.”

“I’m not sorry, at all,” Mark replied, reaching over to ruffle your hair. Luna crawled even closer to your face then, essentially blocking any ability to snuggle with one another.

You stared up at the ceiling in disappointment.

Things didn’t improve. Every time Mark came to visit, Luna was happy to see him, and played with him with ease. But as soon as you showed any affection to one another, she would get in between you both, dampening the mood. You had gotten creative with your intimacy, and the shower had become the safest place to avoid any interruptions from your dog.

Thank goodness, you had taught her that the bathroom door was shut whenever you were in there.

Yet, there was no snuggling after sex and no beautiful morning wake up views either. Luna was relentless, and Mark had even fallen out of the bed from her pushing him to the very edge. Crating her or locking her out of the room only led to her wailing and neither of you got any sleep then either.

You were done with this being an issue.

Surprisingly, Mark was all too good-natured about this. “I don’t mind.”

“I do. I just want to be in your arms without her feeling the need to overstep the line. I’ve even talked to a dog behaviourist, and they said that it will take a long time to change this type of behaviour. I’m amazed you’re still accepting my offers to stay here. I’m lucky my dog hasn’t put you off from dating me altogether.”

Pulling you into an embrace, Mark kissed your forehead before resting his head on yours. “You’re worth the effort. Sure, sometimes I wish she’d get over it and accept my place in your life, but still. I’m happy with you. I’m really in love with you. So I’m not going to go anywhere.”

“You love me?” you asked after pulling your head away from his shoulder, and Mark nodded. “I thought I was the only one feeling that way.”

Mark grinned. “I’m not one to easily give up on someone special to me. We’ll find a way around this. Actually, I have an idea.”

“You do?”

“I won’t stay tonight. Instead, can I take Luna home with me?”

You snorted. “You’re inviting my dog home with you?”

“Maybe if she can get used to being with just me, she might become more open to us as a family of three.”

You couldn’t deny the way your heart swooned then, and you beamed at your partner. “Well, when you put it that way. I’ll go pack her a bag of the things she’ll need.”

Sitting down on the couch next to Mark with a bowl of popcorn, you handed it to him and scooted in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Everything was peaceful in the apartment for the first half of the movie. You got your snuggles, some good entertainment on the TV, and your feet were warm from Luna laying on them at the base of the couch.

And then Luna woke up.

Shoved sideways by the large dog squeezing in between you both, you whined outlandishly and pushed her butt out of your face.

So, things had changed. Mark had done a lot of work with Luna to get her used to him, and he’d even moved in with you both. And whilst you were super happy most of the time, well, not everything was perfect.

Mark scratched under Luna’s jaw lovingly as your fur-baby climbed onto him, instead of you. “Did you want Daddy’s love, huh?”

“Mummy would like that more than you, Luna.”

The dog turned at looked at you, her mouth opening to smile at you.

Luna was now in love with Mark just as much as you were. Instead of protecting you, she would openly choose Mark just to spite you, you were sure of it. And when things turned spicy between you both, it was normally you who she barked at now.

“Since when did I get shoved out to the side in this relationship, huh?” you questioned your pooch when Mark went to the bathroom after the movie. “Do you even remember the times where you would shunt him away just to be closer to me?”

“You sound so jealous.”

“Well, I can’t help but be that way. My dog loves you more than me now.”

“It’s a good thing that I love you more then. That way I can make up for it,” Mark told you, kissing you over the back of the couch. You shifted up onto your knees to face him, slinging your arms around his shoulders as the embrace deepened. Pulling you up into his arms, Mark carried you blindly over to the bedroom door, yelping when he banged into something.

With your kiss broken apart, you glanced down at what he hit. Mark groaned. “Milo, really?!”

Thankfully, love-making sessions had become easier with a second dog in your life. You could shut the door and know Luna wouldn’t cry because she wasn’t alone anymore.

However, your new dog Milo had taken to trying to stop you both from leaving him with her. Sprawled out in front of the doorway, Milo refused to move so you could easily get into the bedroom.

“Why do we have dogs?” Mark wondered out loud, and you grinned.

“Because we’re fools.”

“Milo, move. You’re ruining the mood!”

You giggled as both dogs started barking at you. “It looks like we still have more training to do if we want to have alone time.”

“Imagine when we have kids too,” Mark suggested with a laugh, shaking his head. “Will we ever get time alone to be just us?”

“There’s always the shower,” you pointed out, and Mark bit his lip, glancing down at the dogs and then at you.

“Screw it,” he announced, shifting through the dogs quickly and dropping you both onto the bed. The dogs leapt up with you both, and you were laughing too much now to think of anything sensual.

Kissing Mark before being pushed apart by Luna and Milo, you grinned at him. “Even if being physical is a challenge at times, I love how we are.”

_________________

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styleswithaseaview · 3 years

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ottery st. catchpole

ok so new fic ;)))) (This is based of forest gump so basically forest and Jenny’s relationship but at hogwarts ykykykykykky) y/n had a reall Ruff childhood and she lived in St. Otterpole with Ced and they grew up together and she would always sneak in to his house so she wouldn’t be alone in the night But once they have been at Hogwarts a couple years Ced realised his feelings for y/n and is like “ what happened to the original plot of the movie?” Sjdjdjdkskkskskskd… One night, our girl is having a nightmare about sm sm u can decide and ceds like hell nah not my girl and takes her up to his dorm and they sleep and cuddle like they used to do at his house when they are younger :) Then she wakes up and is like “oh shiii i fell in love with Diggory” That’s all I have for the plot rn but lemme know if you need anything else :))) - @feliciamint (thank you for the lovely idea babie!)

warnings : food mention, slightly vague family issues, nightmares, tooth-rotting fluff, swearing

a/n : this is kind of different to my usual, and it’s kind of terrible, but ah well! thank you for the help and the lovely request, lu!

taglist: @cedricsbrowncurls @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani @punkrific @anchoeritic @dogsandrocketsocks @blacksbooksx @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @inks-and-jinx @tomriddleswifey @kmcedric11 @orifortheweeknd

—

You were in love with Cedric Diggory, that you knew for certain. Now, how did you come to this conclusion? Simply because every moment leading up to this day was like a time bomb, fuse burning oh-so-slowly until it exploded in a flurry of light.

Ottery St. Catchpole, early childhood; a chilly December night.

You flicked on your light tentatively, searching the window opposite you for a sign that the boy you desperately needed at the moment was still awake.

Alas, his light switched on, as well, and you practically squealed in joy. You saw his face appear in the window, childish grin spreading across his features, and he nodded to you.

Taking his signal, you quickly grabbed your coat from where it hung above your bed - in your small cupboard off the kitchen that you resided in - and made your way silently to the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to be quiet, as precisely no one but yourself - a ten year old - occupied the house at the moment. But you were, simply by instinct, and it proved helpful at times other than this; your parents, the ones who were currently out Merlin knows where, often reinforced that you make not a peep when the rare occasion that they were home came up.

And so you hurried out the door and around the back, not stopping until you saw the faint yellow light emanating from the small window on the Diggory’s kitchen door.

The door opened precisely at the moment you arrived at it, revealing a smiling Cedric who pulled the door open for you, allowing you to step into the warmth of the Diggory household.

“Ced? Is-” Amos Diggory started, walking down the stairs, stopping when he saw you. “Ah, hello, Y/N. Staying the night? Have you had dinner yet? There’s food in the cupboard, we just-”

“Thank you, Mr. Diggory, s’very kind,” you said warmly, smiling at the man, who simply shook his head with a chuckle.

“What have I said about my name? Please call me Amos, s’only right with the amount of time you spend over here,” he said, and Cedric shot him a glare.

“Dad.” he warned, grey eyes flaring, and the man just smiled.

“I do mean it in a good way, Ced, you know I love dear Y/N as much as you do.” Amos nodded, exiting the room and up the stairs.

“Have y’eaten?” Cedric asked when his father left, gesturing for you to sit down on one of the stools near the counter. You shook your head with pursed lips, trying to quell the hunger that rumbled in your stomach. “Have some, please,” he implored, taking a bowl of pasta out and a plate for you. You opened your mouth to decline, but the emptiness that growled in your stomach was evident, so you merely nodded, taking the fork from him.

“Thank you, Ced. Y’really don’t have to do this,” you said in between bites of food, and he shook his head.

“It’s the least I can do. Y’want a cuppa?” You nodded in response, and he started the kettle with a wave of his hand. Although you weren’t in Hogwarts yet, and a normal ten-year-old wizard wouldn’t know wandless magic, Cedric and yourself had learned some when he’d realized that he was a disaster in a magic-less kitchen, and with the amount of times a night such as this had occurred, magic was needed in some form or another.

After you’d finished eating and sipped the warm tea he’d provided, the two of you quietly went up to his bedroom, which frankly felt more like home than your own cramped cupboard.

“C’mon, don’t just stand there,” Cedric said with a laugh, opening his own sheets for you to climb into, which you did more than willingly with a giggle. You fell asleep that night in his arms, not a thought in your mind about the troubles that riddled your ten-year-old-self.

—

You were attempting to fall asleep, which proved to be an extremely difficult task with the thoughts that swirled around in your brain, providing you no respite.

When you finally did so, you found that the respite you desired still did not come.

You were flailing in open water, which you saw that stretched miles around you, and the desperate kicks of your limbs did no good to the way you were positively drowning, face barely above the surface as salty water filled your lungs. Upon looking up, you were met with your parents, who were in a boat - a relatively nice one, too - lounging about with cocktail in hand. They spotted your screaming figure and payed no mind, steering their boat the other way as you succumbed to the ocean that pulled you below.

You woke up with a sharp intake of breath, filling your aching lungs, and you found that your throat was sore. From what, you didn’t know - your only concern was the state you were in. Your palms were clammy and you couldn’t stop trembling; it felt like there was water around you, drowning you, when you were merely in your dorm.

You looked up through waterlogged lashes, you assumed from your own tears, to see two people standing in the doorway. One, your roommate. Two, Cedric. You practically sobbed in relief, and the boy rushed to your side, falling to his knees to meet your eye level.

“What happened to her?” Cedric asked worriedly, turning to your roommate.

“I dunno, she was screaming and crying and kicking like mad, and then I came and got you.” the girl said, grimacing. Evidently, she hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.

“Fuck,” he muttered, brushing a sweaty piece of hair from your face. “Y/N, can y’hear me? Wanna go to my dorm, you can get some sleep, alright?” He asked softly, and you nodded, still incredibly shaken but conscious enough to register his inquiry. He picked you up off your bed, bridal style with one arm wrapped under the bend of your knees and the other around the curvature of your spine, and excited the room with a quick ‘thank you’ to your roommate.

He walked you all the way to his dorm, which he was alone in thanks to Head Boy privileges, and set you in his bed, leaving you there for but a moment to fetch a washcloth and some water. He returned, turning you over to softly brush the washcloth over your perspiring face, cleaning you up from the sweat that your nightmares had caused.

“Can y’drink some water f’me?” he asked softly, holding up the water bottle he’d grabbed, and you parted your lips in response, allowing him to nurse the water to your mouth, which you gulped gratefully, thankful for the soothing sensation that the liquid provided you with.

After a minute, you were returned to a relatively normal state, but were still incredibly tired. Cedric gently got into bed beside you, careful not to touch you as to not disturb you, to which you frowned.

“What are y’doin’?”

“I’m-”

“We’re not strangers, get over here, please.” you said simply, pulling the boy so that his arms were around your waist and your head in his chest, inhaling his scent. You were finally able to sleep with the warmth of him around you, and a dreamless sleep, at that.

When you woke up the next morning, the bomb had gone off in your heart, and it was simple for anyone to see. You were in love with Cedric Diggory.

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fic #cedric diggory imagines #submission

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hailhydra920 · 4 years

Text

Puppy Guard

Steve x Reader

Warnings: None.

The first time Steve had visited your house, your german shepherd, Komodor, a.k.a. Komo, began to growl.

"Komo, it's okay. Steve's a friend." You said lightly petting him.

Steve smiled at the dog and went to pet him, but Komo just growled. Steve moved his hand into his pocket and put on a smile.

"Cute dog."

"Thanks." You said as Komo barked happily and rubbed against your legs.

You walked into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare some food for you and Steve. What you didn't know was that Komo and Steve were having an epic stare down. Steve didn't even know dogs could glare like Komo was doing, but he never backed down from a challenge. Komo began to lowly growl, and Steve tensed his shoulders. Just as Steve and Komo were about to lunge at each other, you walked in again.

"Does breakfast for dinner sound good?" You asked as you saw Steve and Komo were sitting with happy expressions.

"Sounds great." Steve said as you entered the kitchen again.

Once you were out of site, Steve and Komo started glaring at each other and Komo got in an attacking position. Komo was a huge german shepherd, that Steve could not deny. If this thing was gonna fight him, it would put up a pretty good fight. Komo lunged forward and took Steve to the ground. Komo growled by Steve's face and Steve was about to throw off Komo, when you entered again.

"Aw, he's warming up to you Steve." You said as you saw Komo sitting on top of Steve. "He's already playing with you. I knew you guys would like each other. I'm gonna start some laundry, so I won't disturb you guys. Komo looks like he's having so much fun."

Once you left, Komo began growling again. Steve rolled over, pinning Komo in the process and laughed.

"Who's better now?" Steve said as Komo growled and rolled out from under Steve.

Komo bit Steve's leg and the caused Steve to muffle his cry of pain, not wanting to upset you. Steve grabbed Komo and they began wrestling on the ground in a full out brawl. Let's just say, Steve hates that dog.

~~~~~~~

The 10th time Steve saw Komo was his worst nightmare. You had asked Steve to look after Komo for a few days because you had to rush home for a family emergency. Steve of course said yes, and you had dropped Komo off that night.

Steve locked his door that night and stood in his room contemplating on how he was going to survive the next few days. Steve reached into his pocket and felt the velvet box. He was going to to ask to you marry him, he was sure you were the one. There was only one obstacle, and that was Komo.

Steve woke up the next morning and cautiously opened the door. Komo began to growl from the other side and he quickly closed it and locked it again. Steve bolted to his phone and dialed Bucky's number.

"Hey, Steve. What's up?"

"I need help! There is an angry german shepherd in my house and I have no idea what to do!" Steve exclaimed.

Bucky chuckled on the other side of the phone. "Let me guess, you're babysitting Y/n's dog."

"Dog? More like a demon! Do you remember what I told you he did last time?! He tripped me, making me drop my chicken tenders, and he even had the audacity to interrupt my kiss with Y/n before I left!"

"Oh Steve. Do you need me to come over and help?" Bucky asked as he held back another chuckled.

"Yes, please." Steve said as he heard Bucky shuffling on the other side of the line.

"Alright, I'll be there in ten. Key is still under the mat?"

"Yup. But beware when you enter. That dog is a monster!"

After Steve put his phone down, he prepared for battle. Anything could happen in the war zone. Steve pulled his shield from out of the closet, and sighed. This was gonna be ruff. (Pun intended)

~~~~~~~

Bucky got to Steve's house and unlocked the door. He entered the house and everything seemed fine. Bucky closed the door behind him and saw something zoom past him. Was it the demon? Bucky checked his surrounding and then took another step. Komo kept out of nowhere and pinned Bucky to the floor.

"Steve!" Bucky shouted as he tried to scramble away from the gigantic dog. "I need back up!"

Komo was growling and Bucky began to tussle with the him. He was greatly surprised by the dog's strength and pure attack attitude.

"I'm coming Bucky!" Steve said charging out of the room, pillows strapped to his back and chest, shield in his hand..

Steve tackled to dog, giving Bucky time to get up.

"Get to my room!" Steve said as he tried to pry Komo off of him.

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he dashed into the room quicker than Pietro. Steve was able to throw Komo onto the couch, and then Steve darted into his room, Komo trailing behind him.

Once Steve jumped into his room, Bucky quickly closed and locked the door behind him. They heard snarls and growls coming from the other side and back away from it. Bucky turned toward Steve and quirked an eyebrow.

"Pillows? Seriously?"

Steve huffed. "I needed to protect my body."

"That's what the shield is for." Bucky said as he sat on Steve's bed.

"You can never be too careful." Steve said with a shrug.

"So, are we trapped in here till dinner?" Bucky asked.

Steve looked at Bucky like he had glowing green skin. "Are you crazy? Forget dinner! We need to know how to get to the bathroom in one piece!"

Bucky looked at Steve unamused.

"I'm sorry. I have to use the bathroom, and I don't have one connected to my bedroom!" Steve said as he ran his hand through his tussled hair. "I think we should call Sam."

"What? No!" Bucky refuted. "Like he would fair any better than us."

"Well, he had mentioned before that he had worked with war dogs before, and that demon, er, I mean, Komo is a retired war dog."

"No. Not until we reeeeeaaaaalllly need it." Bucky said crossing his arms.

~~~~~~~

"Okay, okay! Call Sam!" Bucky said, making Steve jump.

"It's only been 10 minutes." Steve said turning toward Bucky.

"I can't bear the thought of going without dinner!"

"Good, because I didn't think you could bear me squirming much longer. I really gotta go."

~~~~~~~

"Sam can you stop laughing and just get your butt over here?!" Bucky growled over the phone.

"I'm s-sorry. I just...(Sam laughs loudly) You guys are being schooled by a dog." Sam said breathlessly as he wiped a tear from his eye. "I'll be over soon."

Bucky angrily set the phone down and grumbled. "I hate Sam."

"Well, he's about to help us, so be grateful."

"I hope that dog attacks him."

~~~~~~~

Sam opened the door and saw no one. He rounded the hallway. Worst mistake of his life. Komo was waiting like a creepy stalker and pounced.

"Help! Help! Somebody help me!" Sam cried as Komo began to bite his pants, causing them to rip. "Help!"

Komo was growling and biting Sam's leg as he cried out in fear. "Steve! Bucky! Get yours butts out here!"

Meanwhile...

Bucky and Steve were blasting music inside of the room. Jammin' out and trying to forget that there was a horrid beast on the other side of the door. Bucky and Steve began singing to Asher Angel's Guilty.

"Do you feel guilty?!" They sang in unison.

They just kept singing, trying to forget the world.

Back with Sam...

"Back away! Back away you demon!" Sam said, rolling pin in hand as he swung it toward Komo.

Sam looked like a disaster. His face was scratched up and his pants were in shreds, revealing his pink heart underwear. Sam was a mad man. Flailing his rolling pin of destruction any time Komo came near. He threw a dog treat he had in his pocket to the far side of the room. Komo bolted after it and Sam took his chance. He ran toward Steve's room, desperately trying to open the locked door. He banged on it as Komo began edging toward him once again.

"Guys! Open this door! Open it now!" Sam screamed as he banged ferociously on the door.

Bucky and Steve...

"Picture perfect you don't need no filter!" They sang as they danced around the room.

"Wait...do you gear something?" Bucky asked.

"No, who would it be..."

"SAM!" They exclaimed in unison.

They quickly unlocked the door and looked for Sam. They heard his girl like screams as he was being dragged away by Komo.

"He's a goner." Bucky said closing his eyes in fake sadness.

"Bucky! We have to do something!" Steve said grabbing his shield.

"Fine."

After strapping pillows around them, they went into the danger zone. They followed Sam's screams down the hall and saw Sam desperately fighting for his life.

"Now!" Steve called as Bucky tackled Komo to the ground pining Komo.

Sam scrabbled up, fear swirling in his eyes, as he kept shouting, "Demon! Demon! Demon!"

With the quickness of lightning, the trio ran into Steve's room. They were huffing and puffing as they locked the door behind him.

"Who's the victim now?" Bucky said as Sam glared at him.

"Don't. Just don't." Sam growled.

Steve's phone began to ring. Steve picked it up and you began to talk.

"Hi Steve. Is everything going alright?" You asked with a smile on the phone.

Sam snatched the phone out of Steve's hand and began yelling into it.

"It's a demon! It's a demon dog!"

Steve grabbed the phone out of Sam's hand and glared at him.

"Is Sam okay?" You asked with concern.

Steve let out a transparent chuckle. "Of course honey. We just watched a scary movie and Sam is a little spooked. Everything is just peachy."

"Oh, that's good." You said with a sigh of relief. "How is Komo?"

Steve took in a deep breath. "Just great honey." Steve lied.

"That's good. I was worried he would be a little scared with me gone, but it seems like you have everything under control. I love you." You said making a kiss noise.

"I love you too." Steve said with a smile. "Goodnight love."

"Night Stevie." You said hanging up.

Once the call ended, Bucky pushed Steve. "Why didn't you tell her she owns a very scary creature and that it's torturing us?!"

"I didn't want her to worry, and I don't want this to ruin our relationship. I love Y/n with all my heart." Steve said as Bucky shook his head.

"Great. We're gonna die." Sam said with a laugh.

A/n: Part 2? Let me know!

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Fluff #humor #dog #marvel #x reader

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devilbat · 5 years

Text

Creature from the Black Lagoon

Robert Laing and siren

Warning: Violence, Gore, Blood, Death, Character death, Smut, dub-con?, Dismemberment, Mention of rape.

A/n: another for my classic movie monster AUs

The Sirens are beautiful but deadly creatures.

To the Sirens first shalt thou come, who bewitch all men, whosoever shall come to them. Whoso draws nigh them unwittingly and hears the sound of the Sirens' voice, never doth he see wife or babes stand by him on his return, nor have they joy at his coming; but the Sirens enchant him with their clear song, sitting in the meadow, and all about is a great heap of bones of men, corrupt in death, and round the bones the skin is wasting.

Translation of homers the odyssey

"Robert! Rover! Come to me!" The voice in his head called to him. That sweet beautiful voice was like sweet, sweet honey. Making a man come to his knees, willing to do anything and everything for her. His crazy mind seemed to be calm as he walked downstairs to the level of the pool.

"Robert, Oh Robert! Please come to me." The voice becoming louder, as he neared the pool doors. The garbage through out the hall smelled, the lower levels were the worst. People in the low parts of the high rise went completely insane. Rape and murder were what had become to the lower residence of the building. Women and children sobs could be heard behind closed doors. Their cry's for lost loved ones.

"I've missed you Robert! Please come to me." The voice called again. A moan of want was heard from the pool. Pushing the large double doors, he stepped inside.

The room was beautiful. It had seem that what was once ruined by the inhabitants, garbage would be scattered all throughout the room. Chairs broken had been tossed about. The pool filled with the same garbage, chairs and god knows what. Now the room was filled with Lush furniture, small palm trees lined the walls. The walls were now painted a beautiful warm welcome color. Not the yellowy grimy color that had once been, in most spots the paint was peeling away.

Once fully in, he spotted the woman that voice sang to him. The woman herself was beautiful, her body unclothed. Her naked form laid on plush pillows next to the pools edge. Her full breasts on full display for him and him alone. Half her face hidden behind long lush silky locks. That she was currently brushing. Robert cleared his throat as he approached not wish to startle her. She stop, turning her head to look, her hair never moved from the part of her face. Her smile was shy, her eye flutter long lashes moved like butterfly wings. She giggled as she moved her long legs to sit, before she rose. Humming as she moved. Robert eyes roamed over her body. His eyes looked over plump hips and thighs. Licking his lips as her quim now bare for him.

She moved towards the crystal clear water. Her hips swaying from side to side. Her plump ass jiggle just a bit. Enough to feel his cock twitch at the sight. His already hardened cock ached, wanting nothing more then to bury himself inside deep inside her. Peeking over her shoulder seeing he he had followed her. Her hand moved, rolling her fingers a silently answer to follow. Her spell on Robert was strong, flowing her to the edge of the water. Once Robert was behind her. She stepped back into him. Her body flushed against his.

"I've missed you, my love." She whispered, gabbing a hold of his hands moving them on to her body, begging for his touch. Her cool skin sent a shiver down his spin. "I've longed for you touch." Letting his hand slide over her skin. Her flesh damp like she had been in the pool.

"Darling you’re cold." Robert spoke, as his hand moved over curves. Cupping under her heavy breasts. Wanting nothing more then sucking on those ample breasts, his tongue rolling over hardening nipples.

"Then come and warm me up." Her songful moan and roll of her hips were enough to make any man ready to take her, over any surface. Pulling away from Robert she slipped into the clear calm water. Her Whispers echoed in the air, wanting him to come with. Immediately he started stripping. Once robber was on full display. She licked her lip, her eyes on his impressive length.

Slowly stepped into the chilled waters, he never noticed the real picture. Everything in the room was dark, light flickered, everything around the room fallen to shambles. Death claimed this room, the thick stench of rot, decay, blood, bio, piss and everything in between filled the air. The thick water darken from the blood of rotting body's that floated in the water. Skulls floated past Robert as he waited in the water, flesh completely gone somewhere bobbing along on the water. Eyes and other disemboweled parts, parted around him as he moved through dead water. He's eyes only on her and what she sang to him. Never once felling the sludge of decaying arm rub against his own naked body.

"Come here you little minx." Robert called, She smirked as she happily swam around giggling. Robert giving chase. “Got you.” Cornering her in the deeper part of the swamp like water. She wiggles and giggled her voice all to appetizing. Her hands roamed over the tone torso. Humming in approval, admiring the way it felt under her webbed fingers, that Robert never notice.

“Beautiful flesh,” She hummed. “I could just nibble on it.” Her hands roamed down his body. Finding him twitching under her touch. Roberts own hands kneaded at soft heavy breasts once more. Her skin soft and silky, water trickling down from her wet hair. Still part of her face hidden.

“Do as you please love.” Robert moaned, the lids of his eyes fell closed, while she played with his shaft. Moving up and down, her thumb rolling over the tip. She smirked as he spoke. He was hers now and forever.

Her lips moved towards his. Kissing him with such need, and want. His right hand wrapped around her waist pulling her into him. She slid his ready cock inside he welcoming core. He gasped as he entered her tight quim. Her walls clamped around his thick cock. The feeling of being deep inside her almost making him cum, she was unbelievably tight. She moved against him with ease. Wrapping her legs around his waist, as he trusted into her. Water slashing around their bodies. Her claws digging deep in to his flesh, he hissed against her swollen lips. Blood seeped out from under her grasp. Her song still being song, it was as if she was in his mind humming her sweet spell in ever corner of his brain.

She bit his lip as she came quickly around his cock. Sharp shark like teeth pierced his bottom lip. Robert whimpered in pain. She smirked and snarled as she pulled away. Her form chances from a beautiful woman. To a creature he had never seen before. Her eyes a sickly grey and lifeless. Her skin now putrid green, and what was once soft silky flesh, now was scaly and ruff like sand paper. Her mouth now wide with rows of sharps teeth. Dropped with his blood. A creature of what nightmares would of come from. And she watched as she continued to fuck him, he was unable to get away from her grasp. Her legs squeezed tighter around him. Bones cracked as she squeezed. He screamed in agony, desperately trying to push away. Long pointed tongue flicked out lick her lips.

Her beautiful voice that song sweet inviting words to him. Were now screeching of blood and death, growling and wicked laughter. Her claws tearing into flash of his back, ripping meat from the bone. Robert realizing who she was in that moment apologized, pleated, and begging for her to stop. To spare him. But he was just like all other men. He was no different then the ones who now float in the water. Men that had dragged her down the halls and into this room, raping her repeatedly. Then tossing her away like garbage into the water. Leaving her to drawn. But only to survive and seek vengeance on every single man in the high rise. Her now formers lover had now become one of her victims, he too was guilty. He had chosen another lover, tossing her aside. Leaving her to the wolves of men. Never once coming to her aid as she screamed for him.

He would never charm any whore with his tongue as she pulled it out from his mouth. His hand could no long hold another skank, in the bed they shared. His arm severed from his body. Her mouth opened wide as she struck down onto the flesh of his neck. Ripping his throat out. Now he could never call another woman’s name in bed. His cock could never stray and find warmth in another’s cunt. He was hers as she dragged his now lifeless corpse into the depths of the murky waters.

They sit beside the ocean, combing their long golden hair and singing to passing sailors. But anyone who hears their song is bewitched by its sweetness, and they are drawn to that island like iron to a magnet. And their ship smashes upon rocks as sharp as spears. And those sailors join the many victims of the Sirens in a meadow filled with skeletons.

One of meany translations from Homers thee Odyssey

Permanent tags: @kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @miraclesoflove @teageowen @scorpionchild81 @redlipsinkorea @mintzxi @it-jinxed-us @heylals

Tom/Loki Tag's: @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime @youveseen--thebutcher @shockwavee @sabine-leo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @vethrvolnir, @darkprincessloki92 @archy3001 @chaoticwithpurpose @paanchu786 @metalheadspider @myownviperroom @arosewithdaisies @jilldsumner @daughterofsunandmoon93 @too-cold-for-youhere @iamverity @sterwild @hiddlefan81 @matczvkv @desimarie12 @loser-alert @cest-le-temps-de-lamour @lucantis @sherlokiholland @kryptonite2116 @justthatfangirloverthere @littleredstarfish @amore-p-siche

#creature from the black lagoon #robert laing #high rise #tom hiddleston #au #monster #classic horror

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ambitionsource · 4 years

Note

wait i actually have more weirdly specific questions (if ur up to it) - how do the kids feel about poetry? do they follow any sports? what childhood tv shows were their favs? do they have celebrity crushes? fav coming of age movie? how are they doing in quarantine? what time in history were they obsessed w as a kid? have they ever been to summer camp? what type of candles do they like? what song do they cry to? how do they drink their coffee/tea sorry if u’ve answered already/too many questions

wooooo thank you for your patience iz!! we’re gonna go point by point

poetry?

charlie loves it genuinely and will read it for fun. riley likes it enough but doesn’t go out of her way to read it. farkle loves coming up with insane explanations for the metaphors and is smug about interpreting it in class. zay doesn’t care for it, neither does lucas. asher appreciates it but finds it boring; dylan likes it for the same reason farkle does, only not to look smart but to come up with something completely crackheaded to combat farkle’s interpretation (which he can’t then say isn’t correct, bc its poetry, so all interpretations are valid!). isa doesn’t like it because she doesn’t get the metaphors on paper the same way she can pick them up in film. maya hates it even though multiple people have pointed out that song lyrics are basically poetry -- she will tune you out.

sports?

sports aren’t Big at aaa (aside from dance), but there are remnants here and there. riley follows basketball of course -- even tho as demonstrated in 110, she cannot play it to save herself -- and she tried out for cheer in 9th grade at her old school but was rejected from the squad (another bad mark on a terrible year). farkle prefers wii sports over any actual sport, but will sometimes watch golf with stuart because it’s quality time with his very busy father. charlie did soccer when he was younger before it got phased out by dance and semi keeps up with it. dylan also “played” soccer, but this meant the other little league teammates getting pissed at him bc he never paid attention to the game and was just like “hey! hey, dennis, look at this!” and did like 3 cartwheels across the field. it was a smart move when randall pulled him from the team bc those intense soccer moms were gonna like beat them up fDJSKG. so now dylan is just an unofficial gymnast instead.

isa doesn’t like sports but played them a lot with foster siblings, and even though she sucks she gets very competitive. lucas liked baseball and was good at track in middle school, but he never thought about doing a sport for real because he knew he was going to quincy eventually where his dad is a coach... yeah. no. but he’s great at running fast from the police!

maya hates sports (aside from the art of dance). waste of time, waste of energy. asher has never done a sport nor ever contemplated a sport. the most Sport he’s endured is going with jade to support dave at his swim meets (where nigel also does swim) and suffice to say, asher wasn’t there to look at the swimming.

childhood tv?

dylan to this day is a spongebob squarepants STAN. legend, icon, scholar, best television show ever made, in his opinion. he also was well-versed in pokemon, adventure time, gravity falls, and phineas and ferb. asher and lucas both didn’t watch lots of tv growing up (if at all), so dylan considers it his job to give asher a thorough education in the quality tv he missed as a kid.

maya was all over hannah montana (miley is still a role model to this day for her), and she, zay, and charlie all remember the fever dream that was shake it up. zay especially loved it bc he was (is) obsessed with zendaya. zay and maya both also watched victorious. charlie was sharing a tv with four siblings so he just ended up watching whatever the dominant sister that day wanted to watch. riley was a disney channel girl, and farkle was a pbs scholar (arthur, cyber chase, fetch! with ruff ruff man... classics).

celebrity crushes?

zay = zendaya (as previously mentioned). charlie = harry styles to a major degree, although his Cover Story would be zendaya if you asked (ironically). maya = britney spears (but in a I Want To Be Her way, major idolization rather than attraction) and technically the same for valerie de la cruz but like... rip to that lmao. isa = loki, yes we know, but sometimes it be that way (altho that does extend a little bit towards tom hiddleston in general). asher = logan lerman, aka the main valid white boy who dresses nice, is polite and soft-spoken, and minds his own business (not to mention he is the Same Type as dylan). dylan = had crushes more on like... personalities so like ash ketchum and percy jackson, and now its irrelevant bc he met asher and became obsessed and its like every other potential crush just flew out the window of his brain. it’s full asher territory in there nowadays.

riley doesn’t have a specific one, she thinks lots of people are Pretty but no one particularly strongly. farkle doesn’t have one because he’s insane and doesn’t have the mental capacity. lucas doesn’t have one because he’s demi and also hates most celebrities as people.

coming-of-age movie?

maya’s is mean girls. farkle’s is ladybird. zay’s is easy a. riley’s is bend it like beckham. isadora’s is eighth grade. charlie’s is dead poet’s society. asher’s is perks of being a wallflower. dylan’s is spiderman: into the spiderverse. lucas doesn’t know movies.

quarantine?

we’ve somewhat discussed this before, but ultimately es and i elected to let aaa remain in a nice, calm universe where they don’t have to endure covid. lucky them. blow a kiss to the ether for us, buds,

fave time in history?

riley is huge on ancient greece and greek mythology. maya loves the theatricality and Drama of the roaring 20s (a baby flapper at heart). zay vibes hard with the 80s. charlie likes the fashion and romanticism and music and art of the 70s (that sort of flowery positivity clashing with the rebelliousness of the movements of the 60s... yeah. that hits something in him). farkle’s is the great depression not only bc he’s an emo but also all the raw and desperate art that came out of it. isadora was a egyptian mythology kid. i know lucas sounds lame (he is), but i don’t think he cares about history -- but if pushed he’d probably say the 90s bc he dresses like he’s straight out of there, everyone was angry rocking, and he wasn’t born. asher likes the victorian era bc of the sheer elegance and Aesthetic to everything. dylan doesn’t have a favorite time period because due to being the subconscious multiverse conduit (i.e. the being that is somewhat connected to every other version of himself) sometimes he wakes up and for a minute he doesn’t even know what year it is 🤪anyway...

summer camp?

charlie has been to many a christian youth summer camp. zay went to the kossal program, but that was basically it. lucas no although he probably wished he could be anywhere else during the summer sometimes including a camp he would hate. riley went for a few years in elementary school. isa has gone to a couple of “foster kid” summer camp bonding things that she despised. farkle went to jewish summer camp One time and was like that was HORRIBLE, never make me spend a whole summer outside AGAIN. asher was more of a Enrichment courses at the rec center during the summer kid than a camper. dylan no because the orlandos couldn’t afford something like that. same for maya.

candles?

riley has a small variety of scented ones that are like... warm scents, like cinnamon and stuff. asher a couple that smell like clean linen but his fear of accidental fires keeps him from ever lighting them. maya has one and it smells like “star power,” a gift from her mom one christmas. isadora can’t have any because many of her foster homes don’t allow them. lucas legally shouldn’t be allowed anything that catches on fire. dylan doesn’t have one but similarly should not be given one. the minki have a whole collection for different things so farkle can just pluck one at any time if he needs one like for a super fancy bath or whatever the fuck rich people do.

mental breakdown song?

charlie’s are “falling” and “from the dining table” by harry styles.

riley’s is “manhattan” by sara bareilles and “rainbow” by kacey musgraves.

zay’s are “imagine” by ariana and “dear life” from the step up soundtrack (post zc breakup).

farkle’s are “vienna” by billy joel and “get it right” from glee.

asher’s is “don’t cry” by ruel.

isa’s is “you are my sunshine” because valerie used to sing it to her a lot when she was really little, so it will always make her a little emotional.

dylan’s (although rare) are “soon you’ll get better” by ts and “make you feel my love” by adele. the second one is because his mom loved adele when she was just starting out bc 19 was released the same year that she passed away so there’s a lot of like subconscious association there even if he doesn’t realize it.

maya doesn’t have one, and lucas also doesn’t have one because in the rare moments he does cry its in his closet in the dark silence alone bc he literally can’t stand the sentience of knowing he’s crying so. sensory blackout.

coffee / tea?

riley will add at least 3 sugars to anything, but she’s ultimately an iced tea gal. lucas drinks it black but only because it never occurred to him to add anything to it and so it’s a big wake up call when he realizes you can drink it and have it NOT be bitter and horrible and demoralizing ( “i thought we were all just suffering for the caffeine fix??” ). isa is a tea girl mostly, although she wishes she could drink black coffee for the aesthetic (and hates that lucas can... it’s like... he didn’t even Earn that aestheticism, smh). asher doesn’t drink caffeine bc it makes him Jittery (and he’s already jittery) so he’s like... the lemonade bitch at coffee shops which kin, and then dylan definitely drinks caffeine but not thru coffee, he’s more likely to get like a hot chocolate.

farkle lives on coffee but he can only drink it from home because they’re rich and can have like fresh ground good imported whatever the heck etc etc so he’s like spoiled about coffee. zay will hit up a starbucks now and then and will order coffee at a diner, but he’s not too attached either way. maya is a fun n free starbucks gal with her frappes and lattes and lots of cream (whipped or otherwise). charlie doesn’t drink coffee or tea bc hes hyper aware of his body and health (he doesn’t really have soda either) and it was frowned upon in his house.

#this was a HEARTY helping of questions. lots to unpack there #thanks izzy!! fun for me and es to go thru #ambition quarantine 2020 #aaa friday #you didnt technicalyl send this on friday but im counting it #front nine #thebestofabaddeal #answered

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shipmistress9 · 5 years

Text

FTLOAP - 42: What If We Rewrite The Stars?

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40; Interlude 5; Chapter 41

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Urgh... I don't know what to think of this chapter. I really wrote a lot in these past two weeks, but barely anything for this story. In times, the words simply flowed down into the document - but only when I wrote something else. On this story, I was entirely blocked. According to my plan, there'd been supposed to be at least twice as much plot in this chapter, maybe even more. Ah, well, but it looks like there might be a few shorter chapters to come instead. *sigh*

Anyway, thanks to the changed content of this chapter, I also had to change the title, since the one I had planned in for such a long time only fits the next part. Thankfully, someone recommended 'Rewrite The Stars' by Zac Efron and Zendaya from the movie Greatest Showman to me a while ago. That song fits these last few chapters perfectly, and I think this quote fits this chapter quite well, too.

. o O o .

Hiccup hoped with all his heart that he wasn’t dreaming again. Her lips were moving with his, he could taste her on his tongue, and he could clearly feel her soft and warm body safely encased in his arms – but it still felt too good to be true.

He’d been so sure that Astrid’s choice at the ball would seal their fate. Markor’s death had confirmed that he’d really seen a vision and had talked to a Goddess instead of only having made it all up. But to be certain that She had meant more than just holding Astrid during the ride back, Hiccup had thought that Astrid would have to ask him for her dance instead of Eret. Otherwise, the social pressure on her to stick to her choice and not switch to an impecunious squire would have been too great – or so he’d told himself. And for those few moments, when she’d slowly walked through the ballroom with her eyes fixed on his and their bond thrumming like a thousand drums, he’d believed she actually would choose him. For that handful of breaths, all the pain and longing and desperation of the previous weeks had vanished at the prospect of their dream coming true, of them dancing together in front of everyone, not caring what anyone else might think. For that short time, he’d hoped!

But then she’d turned toward Eret after all, away from him, and everything around Hiccup had fallen apart. She’d made her choice and it wasn’t him. He barely remembered how he’d made it out of the ballroom and into the dark night. Everything had hurt – be it brushing against another guest, his stumbling steps over uneven ground, or even the air itself. It had all hurt like a million shards of glass cutting into his mind, his flesh, his soul.

At that moment, dying hadn’t felt like such a bad option.

But then she’d suddenly been there. He’d felt her approach, and the sight of her, her closeness, her voice, and her words and promises had been like sweet honey on his hurting soul, and now, everything was perfect again. She was in his arms, and her hand on his skin and her lips against his were all the reassurance he needed. Hot tears of pure relief ran down his cheeks; he hadn’t thought to ever kiss her again, much less hold her with the assurance that nothing could come between them again. He wanted this moment to never end...

Of course, it felt like a dream. But it was one he intended to hold on to with everything he had. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t let go of her again.

“Well, fuck me slowly with Heimdall's mighty horn!” came like a thunderbolt, for all that it was hissed through clenched teeth.

The words cut into their blissful bubble like a knife. Hiccup was reluctant to separate from Astrid and he sensed that she felt the same, but the magic of the moment was gone. She whimpered as he drew back, quietly, barely more than a vibration rippling through her, and buried her face against his chest, unwilling to face their intruders. Despite their silent agreement to not hide but to fight this time, she was still afraid – and Hiccup couldn’t even blame her. All those months of secrecy and hiding had left their mark, and it wouldn’t go away in the blink of an eye. A spark of that fear rose inside him, too, but he forced himself to ignore it as he looked up, stern determination in his eyes as he faced the newcomers. He was ready to fight for her, ready to do whatever it would take. Nobody would be able to separate them again, not after what they’ve been through. If the last two weeks had taught him one thing, then it was that a life without her wasn’t worth it.

When he looked up, his eyes directly landed on Eret, who was at the front of the small group at the edge of the small clearing. For once, though, Hiccup couldn’t pay him the respect he deserved as his knight. This was not about who was the knight and who was the squire. This was about something so much more important, and Hiccup didn’t budge or cower, didn’t avert his eyes and bowed but instead met his cousin’s gaze straight on. However, the expression on Eret’s face didn’t tell him anything. He was calm as he took in what he saw, the woman who’d been meant to become his wife in the arms of his squire, his cousin, his friend. Hiccup had expected – no, feared there would be disappointment, hurt, and anger. But if Eret felt any of that, then he didn’t show it.

Briefly, Hiccup’s eyes flickered to those standing behind Eret – Dagur, whose disbelieving curse had interrupted them and who now stared at them with his mouth open and his eyes wide, and both of Astrid’s servants – but they didn’t really matter. Right now, everything depended on how Eret would react. Deep inside, Hiccup hoped that what he’d believed before Astrid’s birthday was still true; that Eret wouldn’t mind, would maybe even support them in some way. But since then, many things had changed, especially Eret’s relationship to his little sister, and he had every right to be furious, to demand their separation. Hiccup and Astrid might be ready to stand up for their feelings for each other… but that didn’t change that things would become very difficult if a ducal heir would be their opponent.

For some endless seconds, their gazes were locked. Hiccup’s arms around Astrid trembled and he swallowed as one scenario after the other flickered through his mind; everything from having to fight his cousin right here and now to getting thrown into the royal dungeon for his boldness within a matter of minutes.

But then, Eret closed his eyes and, letting out a deep sigh, slowly shook his head. “You two,” he snorted into the silence that encircled them all, “are unbelievable, do you know that?”

At first, his words made no sense to Hiccup, and it took for Eret’s face to twitch into something of a soft grimace before their meaning sank in.

And even then, Dagur was the first to react. “You knew?!” he sputtered, his head whipping from Hiccup and Astrid to Eret and back again at an almost comical speed. “Bu-but I thought he… he said… in that tavern! And... all this time, you–”

“Oh, be quiet!” Astrid’s warder, Tuff, hissed as he threw up his arms in exasperation. “Or do you want to draw even more attention? It’s bad enough already as it is...”

“And you knew too?” Dagur went on, though in a quieter hissing voice now as he turned to look at the twins in disbelieve. They both gave identical shrugs and nods, and Dagur groaned. “Great! So I was the only stupid one around here?”

“Isn’t that how it always is?” Tuff threw back, a mischievous grin on his face.

But their bantering got lost in the background as Ruff pushed past them. Her eyes were firmly locked onto Astrid’s back who still wouldn’t look at anyone. Hiccup wished he could shield her from all that seemed to trouble her, but he knew that, right now, he was powerless. All these people knew each other since childhood, with only him being the odd one out. Whatever happened now, he could only watch, could only try to support Astrid in case it came to some form of fight between her and those she considered her closest friends. All he could do was keep his arms tight around Astrid’s trembling shoulders, assuring her that he was here with her.

“I’m sorry, milady,” Ruff sighed. “We couldn’t keep them out any longer. And the doors to the garden stood still open, so…” she trailed off, shrugging.

Finally, Astrid stirred. She stayed as close to Hiccup as she could, but still turned her head until she could look at the others. “It’s all right, Ruff. I don’t blame you,” she whispered in a brittle voice.

Then her head turned a little more. It was clear that she was looking at Eret now, and Hiccup followed her eyes, still unsure of what to expect from his cousin. Was he angry? Disappointed? Hiccup wouldn’t even blame him… Up until about an hour ago, there had been no doubt as to who the Princess would choose as her husband, after all…

"Did you really know?" Astrid asked in a small voice, and Hiccup could feel how much she trembled. She'd been close to blacking out earlier, and all this had to be tough on her. Almost without thinking about it, his hands shifted, less holding her tight but more supporting her weight in case she needed it. His gaze stayed on Eret though, anxiously waiting for his reaction.

However, Eret's expression was unreadable as his eyes roamed from one to the other. It probably only took him a few seconds before he replied, but those seemed to stretch out forever. Then he closed his eyes and sighed. "No, I didn't know," he emphasised in a quiet voice. "I didn't want to. If I'd known about the looks you shared whenever you thought nobody was looking or how you’d make out whenever you got the chance, then I'd have been forced to lie to my best friend and future king whenever I looked him in the eye." He sighed again and shook his head. "But seriously, if it was your intention to keep what’s between you a secret, then you did a horrible job!"

In Hiccup’s arms, Astrid was trembling even harder. Hiccup felt the same, little shockwaves running through his body as the meaning of what Eret just said sank in. They’d thought they’d been so careful…

“And-and you never said anything?”

Eret’s expression turned sad. “And end up being torn between my loyalty toward you, my best friend and little sister, or Daniel, also my friend and future liege?” He shook his head, even as his lips twitched into something of a smile. “I’d thought about it,” he eventually added in a low voice. “And I tried… You know… Ever since the… the incident with Harold, I had my suspicions. And even though I didn’t want to know the truth, I was still searching for some form of… of confirmation, I guess. But every time I tried to probe for a reaction, carefully, either of you warded off my approach with some excuse or other. I have to grant you that, every time I thought to be sure, you managed to throw me off just enough so that I had doubts again. Every now and then, I also thought about simply confronting you directly, to stop all the hiding. But you apparently wanted to keep this secret, and I… well, after you’ve kept our secret for over two years now, I thought it was only fair to respect your secret as well.”

Astrid’s head dropped, though whether it was some kind of nod or simply in defeat, Hiccup couldn’t tell. A moment later, she looked up again though, and her hands on his chest tightened into fists, clinging to his tunic. “And what about these last two weeks?” she asked, her voice close to breaking.

Hiccup still felt unable to contribute anything to the conversation, but he had to admit that this was a valid question. If Eret had, well, not known but highly suspected there was more between him and Astrid… why hadn’t he said something then? Why had he let her favour him?

Eret’s expression turned pained. “After your birthday…” he whispered, “it was just the same. I saw that something was wrong with you, and understandably so. But I couldn’t be sure, didn’t know what was up, whether you had a fight or whether it was something else… Again, I tried to get a reaction, just anything that would help me understand. But you wouldn’t talk to me, just warded off my questions all over again. And when I tried to get some reaction from Hiccup, he even encouraged me to…” He shook his head. “I wanted to help you, but I just didn’t know how to do that, what exactly had happened between you two, whether you’d even want me to know, and...” He paused and threw his hands up in a helpless gesture, the pain on his face getting even more intense before he added, “I’m sorry!”

Hiccup listened to his cousin’s words with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was still anxious and overwhelmed by the fact that so many people now seemed to know about them – and apparently had for quite a while. But on the other hand, he also felt a weird mix of relief and anger. Relief that they didn’t need to hide that desperately any more... but also the anger about how much pain both him and Astrid could have been spared if only Eret had said something!

However, it only took one look into Astrid’s eyes as she turned to him again for this anger to evaporate. In a way, they both had needed this pain to understand, to see clearly that living apart wasn’t an option, no matter the circumstances. And in the end, it was Eret who’d lost… Hiccup could see it in the reassurance that sparkled in Astrid’s eyes, felt it in how her hand pressed harder against his chest for a moment before she wriggled out of his embrace to make a step toward her brother. She’d made her choice and that meant that she would have to hurt Eret.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said in a weak voice. “But… but I can’t become your wife. A part of me wants to. I want to help you out of this awful situation you’re in. I want to help you both at once. But this, I can’t do.” She paused, taking a deep breath, then gasped, “I love him!”

Hiccup’s heart swelled at her words. She’d said it before already, to him, but this was different. This was what he’d dreamed of ever since he’d discovered that she was the Princess. It was openly declaring their feelings for each other, in front of witnesses and without holding back. And I love her too, more than anything, more than my own life, he added mentally, but didn’t dare to interrupt them.

When he looked up at Eret again, the sadness from before was almost entirely gone though. Instead, he smiled, his eyes warm as he held his arms open, inviting her into a hug.

“I know,” he murmured, barely audible, after his arms had closed around her. “And Swanja... I’m not mad. Do you remember the day we talked? Down at the lake? I meant every word I said, that day and on every other day. I’d be happy and proud to call you my wife and I do believe that a life on our stud farm would suit you. But I also want you to be happy. I told you that, if you have someone you want to choose for yourself, then do so. And…” he trailed off, shared a quick glance with Dagur, and then added, “And there’s something else I also meant when I said it. If you have a problem, you only need to say it, and we'll help you, whatever it is.”

Eret’s words had touched Hiccup, had made him feel stupid and grateful at the same time. Of course, her brothers valued Astrid’s happiness, he shouldn’t have doubted them. It took a few heartbeats before the last words fully sank in though, and when they did, they left him stunned. It was one thing to accept her choice and, hopefully, to not out them publicly. Eloping, their last resort if they wouldn’t be able to find another way, would become impossible if everyone knew about them. But Eret – and Dagur, if Hiccup had interpreted that look correctly – appeared to be willing to do so much more, to even help and support them in finding a solution. Maybe – just maybe! – they actually had a chance…

In Eret’s arms, Astrid began to cry, quietly and with tremors shaking her body, but for once, Hiccup didn’t feel the urge to go and comfort her himself. He’d thought that seeing them like this again would hurt as it had before, but it didn’t. Not with the reassurance of the past half hour. It was only Eret comforting his adopted sister – and if he was honest with himself then it had never been anything else anyway. A soft smile tugged at Hiccup’s lips as he watched them now, and he couldn’t help the warmth spreading through him at the sight in front of him. Eret cooed and murmured into her hair and rubbed her arms and back until she calmed down again. A faint memory rose to Hiccup’s mind, about how she’d once told him how she had nobody she could fully trust, how she was alone when it came to her innermost problems, and how liberating it was for her to have found him. But she’d been wrong. She’d never been alone, had always been protected and cared for.

For a minute or three, they were all silent save for Astrid’s servants murmuring in the background. Dagur had stepped closer, but, to Hiccup’s surprise, he hadn’t said anything yet. However, his hand on Astrid’s shoulder offering comfort and support said enough. Everything Eret had said was true for him, too, apparently. And when Eret eventually lifted his head to look at Hiccup standing a few steps away, he understood that this support wasn’t just aimed at their sister. Eret’s eyes were soft, his smile warm and true as he nodded at him, including him as well.

It didn’t need any other form of communication then, Hiccup stepping closer just as Eret loosened and dropped his arms. Astrid threw one last grateful smile up at Eret before she returned to Hiccup. To never leave him again.

Hiccup couldn’t really help himself then; holding her close and feeling her hand directly land over his heart again felt good, but it wasn’t enough. His hands curled around her face, her neck, and he pulled her into a kiss instead. When she was surprised, she caught herself before he noticed, melting into him, humming and smiling against his lips. It wasn’t the most passionate kiss they’d ever shared, just soft lips sliding and tugging at each other. But that didn’t demean the sense of liberty that overcame Hiccup. As simple and easy and playful as this kiss was, it still held so much more meaning, and it was overwhelming. Because they didn’t need to hide anymore, at least not from everyone. Among this group of friends, they could stop pretending, stop lying.

“Okay, but what are we supposed to do now?”

At Tuff’s sudden question, Hiccup and Astrid parted, ruefully, and everybody turned to questioningly look at the lanky man. His eyes wandered from one to the other, before he shrugged. “What?” he asked, defensively. “We can’t stay out here forever. Sooner or later someone will notice Astrid isn’t resting in that room anymore. So what’s supposed to happen now? Are you just going to go back and announce that you changed your mind?”

“Duh, of course not!” Ruff exclaimed and even swatted the back of her brother's head with her hand. “If that was possible, all this drama wouldn’t have been necessary. He’s not eligible, and you know that perfectly well.”

“Well, yes, I do,” Tuff grumbled and rubbed his head. “And you know I wasn’t serious. But my question still stands. What do we do now?”

The short exchange pulled Hiccup out of his emotional high and back into reality. Sure, it was good to know that they weren’t alone, that they had support, but what was that worth? Not even Eret and Dagur were able to elevate him to a rank that made openly courting Astrid possible. Their situation was just as hopeless as it had been before. Nothing had changed...

After a short pause, Eret sighed. “I’d say that, for now, we should continue as planned, at least act as if nothing had changed.” He raised a hand to ward off any protest before it could come up. “I’m not suggesting to go through with the betrothal and the wedding in case we can’t find a solution. Honestly, I… I know you two well enough to have an idea of what you’re planning. But maybe we can find another solution, something that won’t leave a mess in its wake. As for now though, just consider one thing: men have already been maimed and died in this competition. My rank keeps me safe from open assassination attempts, but if anyone, and you all know who I mean, even so much as suspects Astrid might prefer a certain squire, then I’m not sure we’d be able to keep Hiccup safe.”

Hiccup’s heart sank at those blunt words, and he could feel how a shudder ran through Astrid’s body. From the corner of his eye, he saw how she paled, her hand clenching in his tunic again. As much as they might prefer it otherwise, Eret was right; keeping up at least the appearance of her going to marry Eret would be the wisest thing to do for now. So Hiccup nodded when Eret’s eyes met his, agreeing if reluctantly.

“And you know I hate to admit this,” came Dagur’s voice, drawing everyone’s attention. “But I think Timothy was right.” They all looked at him. “Time’s a wasting. Get back inside posthaste or try explaining that,” he motioned with his chin towards Hiccup and Astrid holding each other, “to a patrolling guardsman. Or worse.”

Astrid’s shoulders slumped, but she nodded. “Yes, we should go back,” she whispered, hesitantly. “But… but can we meet again soon? To talk, to find a solution? Please?” Her hand in his tunic tightened even further, and Hiccup raised his hand to place it over hers, to rub her arm until she relaxed again. The look in her eyes as she gazed up at him told him enough about how she felt; anxious and unwilling to let go of him so soon. He couldn’t even blame her, but the others were right. Staying here wouldn’t get them anywhere.

“Maybe…during the hunt in a couple of days?” he suggested. “I don’t think we’ll get the chance to talk unobserved during the tournament tomorrow and the day after. But during the hunt, we can sneak away and meet somewhere else; the stables, for example, o-or somewhere else,” he added hastily when something like a small whimper escaped Astrid. He wanted to kick himself; of course, mentioning the stables wasn’t a good idea, not after what had happened this morning. But he couldn’t take his words back anymore and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come up with something–

“Tonight,” Eret threw in, distracting Hiccup from his thoughts. “After the ball has ended. It will be late and everybody will be too tired to care much. Rachel, do you think you can smuggle her over into my rooms without anybody noticing? There, we could talk freely.”

Hiccup’s heart began to race and he could tell that Astrid faired little better. This was better than everything he could have hoped for. Maybe, they would already find a solution tonight.

Ruff snorted and rolled her eyes. “Given that she managed to sneak out of the castle and to the stables all on her own and pretty much every night without anyone noticing… Yeah, I’d say that won’t be a problem,” she said sarcastically.

Apparently, this was news to Eret as well – the looks on his and Dagur’s faces were priceless.

. o O o .

As they approached the castle again, Astrid was reminded of the fact that she would have to let go of Hiccup’s hand eventually. She didn’t want to, wanted to stay close to him for the rest of her life, wanted to never be separated from him again.

But, of course, that wasn’t possible. Eret was right after all; it was bad enough that she’d put a target on his back by choosing him over her other suitors. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if Hiccup got the same attention now.

No, all she could do as they were back in the room she’d been resting in earlier was squeeze his hand and throw him one last smile before letting go and winding her arm through Eret’s instead. He must have felt her discomfort though, because as they walked back to the busy ballroom, Hiccup, Dagur, and the others a few steps behind them, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Don’t worry, Swanja. I promise we’ll find a way out of this.“

Astrid had no idea how he wanted to pull that off, but she believed him at least so far that he would do his best to help. Maybe he’d even cover for them in case of their last resort. And even though they still had no solution, she felt lighter now. So much had changed over this past hour. She was sure of Hiccup’s and her own feelings again, was sure of their future. And the fact that she didn’t need to hide anything from Eret anymore, that he knew and was even willing to support them, to play his part to keep her soulmate safe... She would never be able to express just how relieved and how grateful she was to him. Lying to him over all this time felt so trite and stupid now, and she just hoped that there would be a way to somehow make it up to him one day.

The rest of the ball passed surprisingly fast and ended with Astrid in a much better mood than she’d ever thought she’d be. Repeating her official dance with Eret was light and fun, just like dancing with him used to be before all this madness had started. They were back to being best friends, close as siblings, and she hadn’t known how much she’d missed this easiness until she rediscovered it now.

She found herself beaming up at him as they whirled through the room, laughing and enjoying herself. Every now and then, her eyes flickered to where Hiccup stood, and the spark in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Earlier, he’d said that watching her with Eret had pained him, but it was clear that that wasn’t the case anymore. Everything was different now. Better.

“That’s it, the Swanja I want to see. I missed her,” Eret whispered once the music died down, and he leaned in to place a soft kiss on her forehead that made her giggle.

A sigh went through the watching crowd at the tender gesture even though they thoroughly drew the wrong assumptions from it. But Astrid happily let them believe what they wanted to believe. It didn’t matter as long as everyone who did matter knew the truth. She smiled up at him again, trying to express all her gratitude and love for her friend, before they parted and the ball continued as it had before.

She danced with Dagur next, and he too reassured her that they would support her and how happy he was to see her smile again. He also managed to make her – and part of the watching crowd she guessed – laugh when he made a show of not letting go of her again. Gods, it was so liberating to fool around like this again, to have her brothers back and to have fun without caring what other people might think of them.

She danced with many other men as it was the custom, men whose names she barely remembered. But where on the days before she’d dreaded this idea, it now barely bothered her. Some of them were nervous and excited, some stiff in their attempt to make an impression on her. She wondered whether these men really still held some hope now, or whether it was their fathers pushing them. Either way, she felt pity for them where before she’d hated every single one of them. Most of these boys – because some of them were barely old enough to be called more than that – probably had gotten thrown into this just as unwillingly as she had and she made an attempt to turn their dances into something enjoyable. She was just too happy to let anyone else mope around.

Eventually, she danced with Snot, and while the thought had made her uncomfortable at first, she soon realised that there seemed to be no reason for that anymore.

“I congratulate you for the choice you made,” he murmured into her ear at a quieter part of the music. “I think it’s a good one, no matter how much my old man might object.”

His words surprised her, and she didn’t know what to reply except a simple “Thanks.” These past weeks of incessant flirting on his part had alienated him to her, and Astrid wasn’t ready to forgive and forget it yet. But even though she still felt tense in his arms, certainly not as comfortable as in Dagur’s or even with all those other strangers, she had to admit to herself that dancing with him now at least felt a little more like it used to.

At some point though, she even was made to dance with Thuggory, and no matter how good she felt, this did make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want his hands on her waist, didn’t want to be this close to him, ever. But she would endure it, there was no other way anyway. And there was even some fun in it for her too, if only in knowing that all his vague threats were in vain.

“You’re going to regret choosing that horse-crazy idiot,” he sneered, his breath on her skin making her shudder. “You’ll see.”

But Astrid wasn’t feeling like giving in or even just ignoring him today. “I doubt that,” she replied with a sweet smile. “On the contrary, I’m certain that the choice I made today was the best of my life.” He couldn’t know that she wasn’t talking about Eret but instead about going after Hiccup, but that only made her rejoice even more. Thuggory was nothing but a toothless dog, barking and annoying, but unable to actually do anything.

At her words, his eyes contracted into slits, his sneer turning even more menacing. “We’ll see, Princess. We’ll see.”

But not even that was enough to darken Astrid mood tonight.

. o O o .

So, that was that...

I can't say that I'm happy with how this chapter turned out. Not that I don't like this scene, but it feels incomplete without the one that's now going to come in the next chapter. Like, the rest of the ball had been meant to be a bridge between the two main scenes... Writer's block is so annoying!

Anyway, I hope some people are calmer and more relaxed now, nothing bad will happen right away. ;)

#FTLOAP #For The Love Of A Princess #Hiccstrid #Hiccup and Astrid #hiccstrid royal au #royalty au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #medieval au #fanfiction #romance #hiccstrid fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfiction

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lickstynine · 4 years

Text

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Thirty

written with @ocsickficsideblog

---------

Everyone continued to eat and chat for a while, save for Kit, who was just sipping his one cup of tea and occasionally throwing out quips. Finny had taken a seat under the table, his ass on Alistair’s feet, his tummy on Riagán’s, and his front feet on Siofra’s. She ruffled his ears, sending Cillian to go get more beer so she wouldn’t have to bother the dog. By the time everyone was full, there was an astonishing dent in the buffet that had been filling up the table. There was enough food for maybe a few normal-sized people to have lunch, but that was really it. Kit stared in astonishment for a moment before helping to gather empty plates.

“What, never seen a functional family before?” Siofra smirked.

“Well… no. But I was more shocked at how much you all eat. I would actually die if I tried to eat that much.”

Siofra snorted, patting his shoulder as she set the remaining ham on the counter. “Yeah, well you’re tiny, an’ ye sit on the couch feelin’ sad an’ dramatic all day. We’re big, an’ we fuckin’ work out. Calories in, calories out, an’ all that shit. C’mon, we’re gonna watch whatever dumb Christmas film is on, then dessert.”

Kit’s jaw nearly fell off his hinges. “We’re still having dessert after that?”

“Well, yeah. It’d be a right lousy holiday if we didn’t.” Siofra shrugged, wrapping up the leftover ham before dragging him to the couch. Kit looked hesitant to take up space when there were so many family members not seated yet, so Siofra just pulled him onto her lap. He yelped in surprise, but didn’t move — she was soft and warm and remarkably comfortable. Riagán snorted and plunked down next to them.

“Ye lovebirds havin’ fun?”

“Mm… not till you go to sleep.” She grinned.

Cillian fake-gagged, squeezing into the remaining corner of the couch. “Gross!”

“At least I have a boyfriend, not a pillow I kiss at night.” Siofra said. Riagán snorted and Cillian smacked at them both with a throw pillow. He mostly just hit Riagán and Kit, since Siofra was being blocked from the front and the side. Riagán grabbed a cushion and smacked back, while Kit just yelped again.

Gran shuffled in with a mug of tea. “Boys! Not my good pillows! Beat each other with the ratty ones.”

Alistair just sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He was starting to wish he’d just gone with Julius instead. He wanted him so badly. Siofra’s family were all friendly and boisterous, but Alistair wasn’t really attached to them like Kit was, being Siofra’s boyfriend. He was only there for Kit, and Kit seemed to have had enough of him too. He felt squeezed out on the edge again.

Kit was doing his best to play along, but he didn’t really feel any more at home than his cousin. He felt like an idiot jumping out of his skin every time a pillow flew at him, but he would’ve felt like more of an idiot asking the boys to stop. He slouched down, resting his head on Siofra’s chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair. Finny trotted into the living room, looking quite offended to see his owner’s lap taken. He laid down on the ground with a deep doggy sigh.

A moment later, Mr. Rafferty finally came to sit, taking the armchair opposite Gran’s rocking chair. He turned on the TV, flicking through channels of useless sludge until he hit the opening credits of A Christmas Carol. Kit knew every version of the story, inside and out, and before long, the familiarity was going in one ear and out the other while he stared off into the abyss. Alistair was similarly preoccupied, sitting with his chin on his knees. He kept his eyes closed, trying to blot out this other family he didn’t belong to. He was rudely interrupted by a wet nose snuffling his face. Finny was similarly peeved about his favourite human being preoccupied, and wanted attention.

Ruff.

Alistair smiled at him, letting Finny cuddle on his lap. He suddenly felt dangerously near tears, and blinked fiercely to stop himself weeping, hiding his face in Finny's fur. A large, pink tongue that smelled of gravy and mashed potatoes lapped at Alistair’s hair and the exposed parts of his cheeks. Alistair smiled a bit, ruffling Finny’s ears. “Ugh, gross,” he said fondly. Finny just licked his face again, letting out a low, cheerful boof. The sound caught Siofra’s attention and she nearly broke her neck turning to face Alistair without knocking Kit off her lap.

“Ya wanna take ‘im outside? He’s been in all afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Alistair said, desperate to escape. “Come on, Finny.”

The dog hopped up at once, wagging his tail and running to the front door. Alistair got his leash on, stepping out into the frigid winter air. Soft snowflakes were falling, and Finny was delighted, running around trying to catch them in his mouth. Alistair watched him, laughing — and then the giggles turned to tears so suddenly even Alistair was surprised. He didn’t even really know what he was crying about. It was just that it was Christmas, and he was lonely.

Finny immediately turned around, running back to Alistair and tackling him into the snow. He laid down on top of the now-prone Alistair, snuffling and licking his face. Alistair squealed and wrapped his arms around the wriggling lump of fur, half laughing, half crying. Finny continued to lick his face — that was the only way he knew how to fix crying humans. Snow was gathering on the tips of his dark ears, making them look like tiny mountains. Alistair tried to sit up, gently brushing the snow off. “Come on, it’s freezing. We should better go inside to play gooseberry.”

Finny shook himself off, hopping off of Alistair to run in circles around him. His fur kept him plenty warm, but he still returned to the front door after a minute, nudging Alistair along. Alistair laughed. “It’s like you’re looking after me,” he said, taking him back inside. Finny ran back inside, sniffing around to see if more food had come out in the interim. When he found nothing, he flopped down on the rug. Kit hadn’t moved an inch, still staring vacantly into the same spot on the wall. Gran waved when Alistair and Finny came back in.

“Hello, boys! How was the wretched tundra?”

“Bloody freezing, as expected. How’d you live out here? I thought old people got more cold,” Alistair said tactlessly.

Gran snorted. “That’s what alcohol is for. Why d’ye think the Russians are known for vodka?”

“Because it originates there?”

Gran paused for a long moment, then turned back around to watch the movie. “What a sheltered child…”

“I’m not sheltered,” Alistair grumbled.

“If ye don’t like shelter, ye could go back outside.” Riagán offered. Siofra elbowed him in the stomach.

“There’s hot chocolate on the counter.” She told Alistair. “Cilli wanted some, so we made a bunch. Knew yer fat arse would drink the rest.”

“My fat arse will,” Alistair said gratefully, going to grab a cup. Finny followed him, hoping for food. Alistair ruffled his fur. “Haven’t you eaten enough, greedy-guts? You’re as bad as your Siofra.”

“Oi!” Siofra called from the living room. Finny boofed in response, then turned back to Alistair to beg. Alistair couldn’t resist him for long, ferreting in the cupboards for a treat.

“You’re a menace, Finny. Giving me those big eyes.”

Ruff. Finny snuffled Alistair’s hand, happily crunching the treat. Alistair squatted beside him, sighing. “How come I can only make it work with you guys..? Animals. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be flipping human. My mother used to say I was half wild.” Finny licked his face.

Ruff.

Alistair stroked him fondly. “We should probably go back to the room…” Finny turned around obediently, thumping Alistair’s legs with his tail before returning to the living room. He stared indignantly at Kit, who was snoring on top of Siofra, flopping down on the rug again. Alistair flopped in a similar fashion beside him, curling around Finny like they were two dogs together. Finny wrapped his tail around Alistair, giving his face a big, sloppy lick. Siofra chuckled.

“D’you two need a room?”

“Bugger off,” Alistair said lazily. Finny licked his nose again, happy to have attention since his owner was preoccupied. Siofra just chuckled.

“He seems pretty happy with ya.”

“It’s only because Kit’s purloined you.”

“Oh, so you’re both jealous?” Siofra grinned.

“Evidently.”

“I mean, there’s space on my lap for two more. Kit is like the size’o my leg.”

“It’s a lovely offer, but I think I’ll pass,” Alistair said, rolling his eyes. “Kit’s happy there anyway. It’s nothing against you, I’m just...protective. Trust me, if you were a lanky streak of piss like Kit, your brothers would be the same.”

Siofra snorted so hard she nearly woke Kit, and her brothers laughed as well. Gran just chuckled and shook her head. Alistair grinned, curling back up with Finny. He could hear his soft heartbeat through his thick fur. The dog licked his nose more gently before curling up to sleep.

By the time the movie was over, Finny, Kit, and Cillian were all sound asleep. Siofra finally nudged the snoring red lump in her lap. “Oi. Get off, I want dessert.” Kit groaned dramatically and didn’t move.

“Come sit with me and Finny,” Alistair mumbled sleepily.

“I’m not sitting on the floor with the dog.” Kit sighed.

“I thought your fat arse would get up when ye heard ‘dessert.’” Siofra teased.

“Depends on what you’re eating.”

Siofra looked at him strangely. “Pudding, soda bread, cake, tarts. Y’know… dessert?”

“We always had just one dessert at home, they’d just be like “it’s meringues” or “it’s banoffee pie.” I am aware of what dessert is,” Alistair said.

“We had lots of desserts at parties.” Kit mumbled.

“Course ye did, Princess.” Siofra lifted him off of her, setting him in the warm spot she’d left on the couch. She kicked Cillian lightly. “Oi. Dessert.” He popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Dessert?”

Riagán was already barrelling past his little brother into the kitchen, while Mr. Rafferty helped Gran out of her chair.

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Like Pavlov’s dogs.”

“Yer mum’s a dog.” Siofra mumbled. Finny lifted his head and barked. He’d heard ‘dog.’

Alistair was distracted, ruffling Finny’s ears. “Ooh, you’re so clever!” Finny licked his face and trotted off to the kitchen as well. Alistair followed Finny, walking two steps behind him, as if he was the dog and Finny the human. Everyone was crowded around the counter, piling plates full of dessert. Meanwhile, Kit pattered off down the hallway, in search of his guest room. Alistair backed away from the crowd too, anxiety overwhelming the desire for dessert. He made a dash for his room. Kit was already there, rooting in his suitcase, and he yelped in surprise.

“Al! What are you doing here?”

“Getting away from everybody. It’s all a bit intense. What’re you doing?”

“Looking for a handkerchief.” Kit mumbled. “Are you really so scared of Siofra’s family that you’re avoiding dessert?”

“Not just all the people. It’s Christmas itself,” Alistair mumbled, flopping back on Kit’s bed. “It freaks me out when I see all these families being all happy and jolly together. I used to do it with Jules too.”

Kit rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment. He needed Alistair to leave, but he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m surprised Finny didn’t follow you.”

“He’ll be wanting table scraps. What’re you doing hovering by your case?”

“Trying to find my… handkerchief.” It took Kit a minute to remember what he’d said he was looking for.

“Just blow your nose on some bog roll. Do you want me to get some?”

Kit had to swallow a sigh of relief. “Yes, please. Meet me back in the living room.”

“Okay…” Alistair was a bit perplexed by that, Kit was the type who’d leave the room to blow his nose in private, but he left to grab some toilet paper anyway. By the time Alistair found the bathroom and got back, Kit had stumbled back to the living room, arms piled high with wrapped gifts.

Siofra had just finished fighting her brothers over a particularly large tart, and she turned to walk back into the living room. When she saw her boyfriend staggering under a heap of gifts, she nearly shrieked.

“Where in fuck did those come from?”

“What the fuck are you yelling about..?” Alistair mumbled, trailing into the room. His jaw dropped when he spotted Kit. “Fuck me! Did you loot a whole shop?”

“It didn’t all come from one shop. Even Amazon wouldn’t have the right things for everyone.” Kit huffed. He was setting down gifts by everyone’s seats, and there was a stack of several boxes where Alistair had been laying on the floor.

“Can we open them now?” Alistair asked excitedly.

“Wait for everyone to get settled. Go grab dessert or something. I know you’ll bitch if everyone is sitting here with sweets but you.” Kit said. Alistair poked his tongue out at Kit, but did as he was told. Finny was still lingering in the kitchen, trying to appeal to Gran for sweets. She rolled her eyes.

“Ye can’t eat tarts, ye great foolish beast.”

Finny barked in protest. Alistair slipped him a bit of pastry when he thought she wasn’t looking. Gran saw it, but she just smacked him with her napkin and shuffled back to the living room. There was still a fair amount of dessert left — she always made more than enough for the group she was hosting. Alistair grabbed a few more tarts and then hurried back to the living room. He was curious about the gifts. Finny padded after him, sniffing curiously at the small package that had been left where he sat.

Kit shifted nervously on his feet. “Er, if it’s alright, I’d like Siofra to go first. Since she’s the one that brought me here and all…”

Mr. Rafferty was staring incredulously at the tiny, neatly-wrapped box in his seat, still gobsmacked that he’d gotten a gift from this borderline stranger. He looked up when Siofra threw a pillow at him.

“Dad? Can I open mine?”

“Oh, uh, go ahead.” He nodded.

Siofra tore into the box at once, revealing a gold pendant with green gemstones clustered into a loose circle. The gems ranged in colour from pale and yellowish to deep blue-green, and many of the hues reflected in her eyes as she held it up. She couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face.

“Bloody hell… this is stunnin’. Don’t tell me how much ye spent on it. I might have to kill ya.”

“Well, then it suits you. It’s a one-of-a-kind piece. I like the arrangement of gems, it almost reminded me of freckles.” Kit murmured.

Siofra scoffed. “Ya sappy piece’o shit.” She was grinning even as she said it, and she yanked him closer for a suffocating hug. Once she released Kit to breathe again, she looked around the room. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Um, let’s do your brothers. I want Al to go last.” Kit said.

Neither Cillian nor Riagán offered to let the other go first; they tore into their boxes nearly simultaneously. Cillian’s gift was a pair of blue, black, and white Air Jordans, the colours almost identical to his favourite jacket. He gasped. “Shit! Siofra, did ye tell ‘im to get these?”

She shrugged. “I just gave ‘im yer size. He did the shoppin’.”

Riagán was similarly awestruck by his gift — a glossy William Henry pocket knife that looked more like a piece of jewelry than a weapon. This time, Kit spoke for himself.

“Siofra told me your old knife broke last time you were camping. This one should be a bit more… resilient.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” Riagán was staring slackjawed into the box. “I… shit… I mean… thanks, mate. That sounds pathetic, but, I just… I dunno what to say.”

Kit just smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. As long as you like it, that’s all I need to know.”

Siofra was bouncing on the edge of her seat, just as delighted by the others’ gifts as her own. “Dad! Yours now!”

Mr. Rafferty chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t sure what to expect; he didn’t know Kit personally like his sons, so it would probably just be a really expensive gift card or something. His beard and lower jaw nearly dropped off his face when he unwrapped the tiny box to see tickets to Yo-Yo Ma’s Bach Project performance in Barcelona, with accompanying plane tickets to Spain for the week of the show. He looked at Kit like he was expecting it to be a joke, but Kit just smiled.

“Siofra’s told me a lot about you. I tried to find something I thought you would like. If it’s not to your interest, I can get something else.”

“No, no no no. This is… amazin’. I’m just wonderin’… why?” Mr. Rafferty was still staring at Kit in utter confusion.

“It’s nice to make people happy. I have more money than I could ever spend. Why not do something decent with it?” Kit shrugged.

Mr. Rafferty still seemed a little blown away by the whole thing, but he nodded. “That’s… I suppose that’s fair.”

Kit was already turning to smile sheepishly at Gran. “I’m sorry, I know the wine must seem a bit anticlimactic. Siofra didn’t give me much notice I was going to be meeting you.”

“Dear, yer pretty arse stayin’ in my house is enough to make my Christmas merry. Wine is just the icin’ on the cake.” She grinned, her eyes scrunching and sparkling much in the same way Siofra’s had.

Kit chuckled. “You’re too kind. Al? Would you like to help Finny open his gift?”

Alistair did as he was told silently, a little awestruck by all the other gifts. He put Finny’s paw on the package as he ripped the paper to make sure Finny knew it was his present. Finny snuffled it curiously. At first the box looked like it held fancy candy, but upon closer inspection, they were actually gourmet dog treats. Finny was nosing at the box, clearly eager to examine its contents.

Siofra laughed. “Now ye can have dessert too, ye fat furry bastard.” Finny barked at her. Alistair opened the box for him, letting Finny stick his nose in and rootle around. The dog scarfed up a treat at once, trying to eat a second one before he’d even finished chewing. Siofra let him have a second, but then she took the box before he could devour them all. Kit was hovering nervously by his cousin, watching as Finny settled down.

“Alright, Al. Your turn.”

“Finally!” Alistair said, but he sounded nervous too. Maybe it was just everyone watching him. He started tearing the wrapping paper off the top box, struggling with the sellotape with his bitten nails. It finally gave, revealing a book of cold-press cotton paper and a tray of sixteen high-end watercolours.

Alistair had been preparing a thank you on his tongue, but he couldn’t speak now. He’d have never been able to afford these himself, but he’d always wanted to try them. He leapt over the box and hugged Kit hard — and he was still only on the first box. The older boy let out a strangled squawk.

“Al! Don’t choke me yet. I’d like to see you at least open your other gifts…”

“Okay, but I’m choking you afterwards,” Alistair said, tearing at the next box. This one was something Kit had researched for hours before picking it out — a 24-inch Wacom Cintiq Pro drawing tablet.

Alistair looked like he was going to have a heart attack. “Kit, you’re fucking amazing.”

“Open the last one, then suck my dick.” Kit grinned.

“You’re awful. I love you.” Alistair couldn’t sort through his emotions when he was this excited. He eagerly opened the last box. It was smaller than the Wacom, a sleek silver Macbook Pro.

“I figured your old computer wouldn’t hold up to Photoshop very well. Or rather… the salesman who helped me pick out your tablet figured.” Kit said.

“Dude. Kit.” Alistair almost did throttle his cousin when he hugged him this time. “They’re the most perfect presents I’ve ever been given…”

Kit made a louder squawking noise, trying to pull away enough to breathe. Finny was nosing curiously at Alistair’s things, but he knew better than to lick or chew on them. Alistair went and hugged him too. “Look at the stuff Kit bought me, Finny! Now I can do art like a real artist! Isn’t he fucking awesome!”

Kit just smiled, sitting on the couch to help Siofra with the clasp of her new necklace. Finny boofed, excited because Alistair was excited. He gave the boy’s face a big, sloppy lick. Alistair romped on the floor with him, bouncing off the walls now. He was like a kid on a sugar high. Finny rolled around, delighted to be getting so much attention, while Siofra and her family settled on the couch to eat dessert. Gran was pouring wine for those who wanted it, and Kit gratefully took a glass. He leaned on Siofra, but stayed awake this time, quiet and watchful.

“What about your presents, Kit?” Alistair said under Finny.

“Me? What could I possibly need as a gift?”

“I’ll give you mine later,” he whispered. “I don’t want everyone seeing it. Don’t get excited though, like you said, you’ve got everything.”

“I mean, I have somethin’ for ye, too, but it’s also not somethin’ I can give ye in public.” Siofra grinned. Kit’s cheeks flared red, but the Rafferty boys and Gran just laughed.

“Gross, Siofra,” Alistair mumbled.

“Yer mum’s gross.” She smirked.

“True.”

Finny boofed, and Siofra smiled. “Don’t worry Finn, yer mum was lovely.”

“You knew her?” Alistair said curiously.

“No, but I did. She was quite the charmin’ bitch.” Mr. Rafferty grinned.

“Well. That’s good,” Alistair said awkwardly. Finny saved him from further conversation by trotting over to the door and whining. Alistair leapt up at once. “I’ll take him out.”

“Thanks.” Siofra smiled at him. “Take a jacket, it’s bloody baltic outside.”

Alistair grabbed the first one off the rack, which must have belonged to one of the Rafferty men, since it looked like it was trying to swallow Alistair whole when he put it on. “Come on, Finn.”

Finny boofed delightedly, barreling out the door as soon as it was open. Snow had been falling heavily, and it was up to his belly fur, but he ran through it without hesitation.

“Jesus! Look at this!” Alistair ran out into the show, shivering. He’d shoved his bare feet into somebody’s gigantic trainers, and they were offering little protection. “Fuck, my feet are cold, Finny.”

Finny’s fur seemed to be doing a stellar job of keeping him warm. He ran around chasing snowflakes for a while before even remembering he’d been let out to piss. Alistair tried to run after him, but the borrowed shoes were so big he kept stepping out of them and stepping into the snow in his bare feet. “I am losing toes here, Finny,” Alistair called, but he still didn’t go inside.

Finny eventually wore himself out, running back to Alistair and snuffling at his legs. He was full after being spoiled with snacks all evening, and not as hyper as earlier. When Alistair let the dog back inside, Siofra and Cillian were helping clean up dessert dishes, and Gran was asking Kit about his travels. He seemed a little flustered to be in the spotlight, but once she got him going on a story about visiting Japan, he rambled enthusiastically, telling her about the temples he’d seen. Alistair staggered into the kitchen with snow in his hair, his feet practically blue.

Siofra snorted. “Jaysus, who’s the Ice Princess now?”

“The bloody snow outside is deep.”

“Ya coulda taken my boots.” She grinned, “They’d fit just fine.”

“I just took the first shoes I found,” he grumbled.

“Figured. Would some hot chocolate warm ya up?” Siofra asked.

“God, yes please.”

Siofra laughed, going over to the stove to make fresh cocoa. Finny had joined them in the kitchen, hoping to catch any dropped crumbs. Alistair didn’t have food to offer, but he pet Finny’s ears. The dog wagged his tail, thumping Alistair's legs. He watched Siofra eagerly as she worked on the stove.

“This ain't for you, fat-arse. You've already had fancy treats and all sorts'o scraps.” She told him. Finny sighed, laying down right in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Can’t he have a little bit of something?” Alistair asked.

“No. He's already had way more than usual. Don't want ‘im gettin’ sick, or fat.”

“Fat dogs are super cute.”

“They're also super unhealthy.” Siofra replied sternly. She finished the cocoa, pouring some into a fresh mug.

“Sorry, Finny. I tried.”

Finny boofed, continuing to lay right in Siofra's way. She just stepped over him and handed Alistair the mug. He took it gratefully, trying to warm his freezing hands.

“Go sit on the couch. We got plenty'o blankets.”

“Who else is there?” Alistair asked warily.

Siofra rolled her eyes. “Yer cousin. Riagán maybe, but ‘e's probably gone to set up sleepin’ bags.”

“Okay.” He mooched off to the living room, going to cuddle up with Kit on the sofa. Kit was still nursing the same glass of wine, and he yelped when his cousin sat down.

“Good Lord, Al, you're freezing!”

“I know. My feet are numb.”

“There’s blankets on the back’o the couch!” Siofra yelled from the kitchen. Gran and Mr. Rafferty had left the living room, so Riagán had taken over the armchair.

Alistair grabbed a couple of blankets, wrapping Kit up too. “Thank you so much for those gifts, Kit. You spoil me.”

“I try.” Kit mumbled, leaning on Alistair’s shoulder. He was still holding his wineglass, but he’d stopped sipping from it a while ago.

“I wish I could get you something as special,” he sighed.

“Like what, Al? You’re not being rude by not spending money you don’t have.”

“I’m just saying, I wish.”

“I wish I was in bed.” Kit mumbled. His eyelids were fluttering as he fought to keep them up, and he had to set his wine down before he dropped the glass.

“Want me to carry you?” Alistair offered.

Kit nodded. “Mm. Come to bed with me. Get warm.”

Alistair snorted. “I thought you and Siofra were having a holiday hump?”

“Tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“Glad to know I’m valued!” Siofra called from the kitchen. Alistair grinned, hauling Kit up in his arms. Cillian waved as they walked off to the guest room.

“Night!”

“Night,” Alistair said back, plopping Kit on the bed carefully. Kit held his arms out, hoping his cousin would crawl in bed with him. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes. Alistair couldn’t resist him, climbing under the sheets beside him. “Don’t you want to change?”

“Oh… I suppose I should.” Kit was so tired, he hadn’t given it the slightest thought.

“Do you want me to just do it? It’s not like I haven’t dressed you for bed before.” Alistair offered.

“...please?”

Alistair grinned. “Okay. Stay still then.”

Kit just flopped on the bed like a dramatic ragdoll, allowing his cousin to dress him. He heard snickering and looked up to see Siofra in the doorway.

“I didn’t think nobles still needed servants to dress ‘em.” She grinned.

Kit’s cheeks flared red. “I… it’s not like that!”

“Really? Didja go quadriplegic in the last five minutes?”

“...no.”

“Then what’s it like?” Siofra asked.

Kit hung his head, clearly embarrassed. “...I’m tired.”

She snorted. “Too tired to put on yer own pyjamas!”

“He offered!” Kit cried.

“This is quite a usual thing,” Alistair agreed. “It’s just easier than forcing him up to do it himself.”

“Christ. Ye rich folk are really somethin’ else.” Siofra shook her head, but she was smiling.

“I’m not a rich folk anymore.”

“Ah, right. You’re just weird. Well, I’ll leave ye weirdos to it.” She walked off down the hall, and Kit could hear her talking to Finny out in the living room.

“She’s the weird one. This whole family is weird,” Alistair said. He didn’t sound mad, just perplexed. “They all like...love each other.”

Kit laughed so hard, Alistair had to let go of his sleeve. “Al… that’s how normal families are.”

“It’s weird! They’re not any bit of drama or resentment. Even Jules’s dad has been screwing someone else. Even his family is a bit fucked up.”

“Well, I mean, Siofra said she never liked her mum much. But it’s really not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’m sure they fight sometimes.” Kit shrugged.

“Oh god, I bet that’s a riot.”

“You’re a riot.” Kit mumbled, flopping down on the bed with a sigh.

“Are you too tired to open my present tonight?” Alistair asked quietly.

Kit sat up, trying to smooth himself out. “Oh, no. I just forgot. Sorry.”

Alistair grinned. “Shocker. Like I said, don’t be too excited… I wish I could afford to get you something really nice.” He rifled in his case and pulled out a little oblong parcel wrapped in deep blue paper.

“I can buy myself nice things. I’m just curious to see what you thought of.” Kit took the parcel, peeling off the paper slowly and carefully.

It was a necklace, very dainty and delicate, the chains so fragile they seemed as brittle as a daisy chain. There was a rose pendant at the bottom, uncannily similar to the ring Kit wore to remember his mother: same design, colour, roughly similar in size. Alistair had bought it second-hand, but he’d polished it up until it shone like it was new. Kit immediately looked down at his ring, stricken by the similarity. As far as he’d known, the ring didn’t have a companion piece — it was an old heirloom, one of the few remnants of when his mother’s family was wealthy. He was quiet for a long time, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.

“How… where did you find this?”

Alistair nudged his shoulder gently. “You know, you do still have an aunt…”

Kit nearly dropped the necklace. “It’s actually…” he stumbled over his words, too choked up to articulate himself, “It was hers? Or… the family’s, at least?”

“Yep. I would’ve told you I’d been in touch sooner, but I wanted to give you this first,” Alistair said. “Máire wants to talk to you again, too.”

Kit clutched the threadlike chain, his hands too shaky to put on the clasp. He was quiet, save for small, shuddering breaths, before collapsing against Alistair, sobbing and hugging his cousin tightly. Alistair held him just as tight. “So yeah… Máire was kinda part of your present.”

Kit shook his head, burying his face in Alistair’s shoulder. “She won’t want to see me. Not like this.”

“Of course she will! She was dead excited to hear from even me, so she’ll be really happy. I showed her a picture of you and she couldn’t believe how much you’ve changed,” Alistair laughed.

“I’m sure that picture looked worlds better than I do now.” Kit sighed. He was all too aware of how corpse-like he’d looked as of late.

“Well, it’ll probably make her auntie instincts come out. She kept telling me I hadn’t changed a bit.” He rolled his eyes. “Mnn, flattering.”

“You still don’t brush your hair.” Kit was chuckling through the tears now.

“She kept trying to smooth it down just like when we were kids,” Alistair said, grinning. “She said how handsome you are now.”

“When did you go see her?” Kit asked.

“Not too long before we came out here. I found her on Facebook and we chatted for a bit first.”

Kit nodded. “Does Julie know?”

“Yeah. He’s the only thing that kept me from telling you. I almost caved a hundred times this week.”

Kit couldn’t help giggling. “You were always awful with secrets. It’s probably good you didn’t realize you were gay sooner.”

“I know, I’d have told everyone in a heartbeat. I’d have had to live in your cupboard or some shit like a fucking war criminal.”

"Virgin war criminal more like." Kit smirked. He was no longer crying, and he sat up enough to put the necklace on.

“I could’ve seen your hair during your Draco blond phase,” Alistair said, helping Kit do up the clasp.

Kit cringed. "Oh god. I think I burned my yearbook from that phase."

"What phase?" Siofra popped her head into the room, as she'd walked over to check on the boys.

"Doesn't matter." Kit replied hastily.

Siofra smirked. "I'll be nice enough to pretend I believe ya. I thought ye came in here to sleep?"

"I did," Kit said, "I forgot Al still had a gift to give me."

"Ye know I do too, right?" Siofra asked.

Kit shook his head. "Not while we're sharing a room with him. That's just cruel."

"A real gift, ye twit. I was jokin' ‘bout fuckin' bein' yer gift. I'll fuck ye anytime, holidays be damned."

"Oh." Kit blinked. "Do… do you want to give it to me now?"

"Nah. You're havin' a moment. I can leave ye two here. D'ye need anything before I go?" She asked.

"Er… I don't think so. Al?"

“No thanks. But you can do the gift exchange if you want,” Alistair said. “I’ll go piss or something if you want privacy.”

"Nah, I'm not that fussed. It's nothin' fancy. I just thought I oughta offer more than a shag." Siofra shrugged. She dug through her own bag, which was sitting on the floor, and pulled out a wrapped box. Kit opened it as meticulously as the last gift, eventually revealing a small wooden box. He undid the latch, revealing an ornate silver hairbrush, with a matching mirror and comb.

"It's lovely," he smiled, lifting the mirror and turning it over. The back had delicate scrolling detail like the brush, and it was immaculately glossy.

"Oh, good." Siofra grinned, seemingly relieved.

"What, did you think I wouldn't like it?" Kit asked.

"Honestly, I was afraid you'd already have ten."

“You are a nightmare to buy gifts for, Kit,” Alistair agreed. “Just cause you’ve got fucking everything.”

"Well, that's why I don't ask for anything!" He cried defensively.

“I’m just teasing you, dope,” Alistair said fondly.

"You're a dope," Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin with a drowsy sigh. Siofra took the box off his lap, clasping it shut and setting it aside.

"You lot get some sleep. I'll be to bed in a while."

“I’ll look after him,” Alistair promised.

Siofra nodded. "Ya got enough blankets?"

“For me, yes. For Kit, we could probably do with a couple more.”

"Figured. I'll be right back." Siofra stepped away, returning a few minutes later with some soft throw blankets and a handmade quilt. "This oughta do ya." She dumped the blankets on the boys, and Kit groaned dramatically. "Sorry princess, no peas in the mattress."

Alistair snorted. “That really is you.”

"Is not," Kit mumbled, "my servants know better than to leave peas in my mattress."

“Who the hell would do that in the first place?” Alistair muttered.

Siofra snorted. "Get some sleep, idiots," she said, closing the door quietly and walking off down the hall. Her brothers and father were in the kitchen, drinking beer and talking rugby, but Gran was sitting in the living room, peering through her coke-bottle glasses at a book. Siofra walked through the living room, stepping into her boots to take Finny out.

"Ye really like that lad, don't ye?" Gran's voice behind her made Siofra jump.

"I like 'im well enough." She shrugged.

"Better than enough, I'd say, if ye bothered to bring 'im all the way out here."

Siofra huffed, shaking her head and lacing up her boots. "I'm feelin' it out, Gran. I ain't committed to nothin' yet."

"Well, feel him out a bit extra for me. He's a good-lookin' one." Gran said, her magnified eyes twinkling with mischief.

Siofra couldn't help snorting. "I will. Just don't harp on about nothin' in front'o him. He had a bad breakup not too long back. You'll scare 'im off if ye get too serious."

"I'm too old to take things serious. Just have fun with 'im." Gran shrugged.

"I plan to. I gotta take Finny out now, alright? Get some sleep." Siofra bent down, hugging her grandmother tightly before standing up and whistling for the dog. Finny bounded over at once, tail wagging eagerly as Siofra clipped his leash on. "C'mon, lad. Let's see what the forest looks like tonight."

#misadventures of Kit #chapter thirty #kit #raycraft #alistair #siofra #riagan #cillian #rafferty

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generalhofferson360 · 5 years

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The Hidden World Thoughts.

You remember that moment near the end where everyone takes the saddles off their dragons?

That was the moment it really hit me...

it’s over.

I stayed in my seat throughout the credits, crying and trying desperately to hold on to the franchise for just a few moment longer. I honestly don’t think I’ve seen such an amazing, beautiful and emotional movie in my life. I cried harder than I have in a long time. It took me more than twenty-four hours to calm down enough to even think about this movie again to write this review.

Oh, and spoilers. Duh.

As much as it hurt, my favourite scene was the goodbye scene. It was so powerful and emotional, and brought me and everyone else in the theatre to tears. Jay’s voice acting was amazing, some of the best I’ve ever heard. It also spoke volumes that, even though we’ve seen the gang grow so much - and that they wouldn’t let this happen, Hiccup was ultimately willing to give up his happiness to allow Toothless his freedom and safety. His biggest insecurity during this film was that things would return to the way they were before he met Toothless, that he would return to being an outcast, and lose the respect he has gained over the past six years, that he would lose himself.

Of course, we have seen the gang grow and change so much over the years, that we know they would never abandon him. None of them are the same people as they were back at the start of the first film. And neither am I. This franchise has taught me so much, about loyalty, acceptance, friendship and finding yourself. Personally, that’s something I’m still working on, but these movies have given me hope for the future. You may think that your life isn’t all that great right now, but look at Hiccup back when he was a teenager. It gets better.

Some other amazing scenes were that of the epilogue and credits. It showed how Hiccup has grown and changed throughout the films, and brought me to tears.

Anyway, some other, lighter things that I loved about this movie include:

- Tuff’s “beard”

- Tuff’s earrings

- Ruff being so chill about her being captured, and proceeding to roast Grimmel the entire time.

- Tuff’s nickname for Hiccup, and also deeming himself Hiccup’s best man.

- Hiccup and Astrid play fighting.

- The flashback scenes with baby Hiccup

- Literally the entire thing.

Anyway, now let’s talk about the few things I would change.

1) Astrid telling Hiccup “You gave him his freedom, what did you expect?” when Toothless leaves the first time. Now that probably isn’t the exact line, I was really emotional, and I need to see it again okayy. But I just feel like she would be more supportive of him, and empathize with him a bit more. She’s had to say goodbye to Stormfly before, back in Gift of the Night Fury, so she knows how hard it is to let go of your best friend.

2) Ruff choosing Fishlegs at the end of the movie and also Snotlout liking... you know who. I refuse to say it. Not the point. As an avid fan of Race to the Edge, I’ve witnessed first hand that Snotlout has a softer, more emotional side. This paints the illusion that he was never into Ruffnut, and that he was only chasing her because she was one of the last single girls. Also, back in the episode ‘Snotlout gets the Axe’, it shows how awful of a couple Ruff and Fishlegs would be. She would constantly be taking advantage of him, and I honestly just think he’s projecting his remaining feelings for Heather onto her.

3) Astrid’s hair at the wedding. I know this isn’t that relevant to the overall plot, but since this was such a great film over all, these are the only complaints I have. It just seemed like it was a lot thinner than it was in the past? Oh well, maybe I’m just salty from the lack of braid in her hair.

4) Some of the best Rtte episodes, in my opinion, are the one which showcase the bond between Ruff & Tuff. I just wished that at the end of the film, when the twins were crying after saying goodbye to Barf & Belch, they would have hugged, or something to show their spectacular bond.

Those last two are entirely self-indulgent but.

Overall, definitely a 10/10. What did you guys think?

#httyd #the hidden world #httyd 3 #httyd 3 the hidden world #httyd the hidden world #ruff and tuff #ruffnut #tuffnut #hiccup #astrid #rufflout #still crying

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roidespd-blog · 5 years

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Chapter Sixteen : THE QUEER KING RECOMMENDS

The Queer King recommends THE DEATH AND LIFE OF MARSHA P. JOHNSON (2017) No one knows what really happened to activist and trans pioneer Marsha P. Johnson the night she died. People still trying to understand. Why do you need to see it ? Marsha P. Johnson is an icon and learning about her is learning about Stonewall and our culture.

The Queer King recommends FAGGOTS, Larry Kramer (1978) Fred Lemish, looking for love, gravitates in a New York City full of glory holes, BDSM, orgies and becomes disillusioned along the way. Why do you need to read it ? It’s Kramer’s first novel. It’s ruff. His writing doesn’t shy away from the reality of gay life and he does not take any prisoners alive. A must read.

The Queer King recommends TANGERINE, Sean Baker (2015) On Christmas Eve, Sin-Dee discovers her pimp boyfriend has been cheating on her. With her friend Alexandra, she goes searching for him Why do you need to see it ? Shot on an IPhone for a ridiculous amount of money, this dramedy puts trans women up front with incredible narrative audacity.

The Queer King recommends A LITTLE LIFE, Hanya Yanagihara (2015) Jude, Willem, JB & Malcolm are best friends living in New York City. From college to middle-age, with most focus on Jude, you will learn to care for them like no other fictional characters before. Why do you need to read it ? I can’t stress this enough. This novel is extraordinary. 18 months later, I’m still not over it. It will break your heart.

The Queer King Recommends PLEASE LIKE ME, Josh Thomas (2013–2016) Josh discovers he’s gay, putting a spin in the lives of his girlfriend, his lazy best friend, his newly-wed dad and his depressed mother. Why do you need to see it ? This Australian comedy achieves in tone and heart what Looking never could. And also, there’s Arnold. Oh, Arnold.

The Queer King Recommends HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH, John Cameron Mitchell (2001) Hedwig, an East German gender queer rock singer, is waiting for her operation that will get rid of the one-inch mound of flesh between her legs. Why do you need to see it ? Poignant, full of incredible tunes and an extraordinary performance from writer-director JCM. Sugar Daddy, Bring it Home.

The Queer King Recommends THE PRINCE OF SALT/CAROL, Patricia Highsmith (1952) Young Therese meets Carol, an rich older woman. The “friendship” that will follow will change her life forever. Why do you need to read it ? An unprecedented feat in literature, a lesbian love story in which the protagonists are not punished in the end. The movie adaptation by Todd Haynes is also a must-see.

The Queer King Recommends 120 BATTEMENTS PAR MINUTE, Robin Campillo (2017) France, 1990s. Act Up. The AIDS Epidemic. Love. Revolution. Why do you need to see it ? To remember what happened. It’s earth-shattering. Silence = Death. What are you waiting for ? Go see it, now !

The Queer King Recommends ONE DAY AT A TIME (2017–2019) A family of hispanic descent tries to survive in today’s America. Why do you need to see it ? For the greatest coming-out storyline on television. So perfect. Bring the show back!

The Queer King Recommends GIOVANNI’S ROOM, James Baldwin (1956) David, a young american who lived in Paris, remembers his complex relationships with the men in his life, particularly a bartender named Giovanni. Why do you need to read it ? Top-3 greatest gay novel of all-time. The first time I read it, I couldn’t finish it. I read the last 30 pages 4 years later. It’s THAT powerful.

The Queer King Recommends A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL , Stephen Frears. (2018) Three-part miniseries about the Jeremy Thorpe Scandal. Why do you need to see it ? Three words. Whishaw. Davies. Frears. Funny as fuck. I’m starting a Ben Whishaw fanclub BTW.

The Queer King recommends THE ADVENTURES OF PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT, Stephan Elliott (1994) Three drag queens take a road trip across Australia to get to a paid-job. Why do you need to see it ? One of the rare 90s positive representation of LGBT+ people, it’s funny, gorgeous looking. A classic. PS The soundtrack is IN-CRE-DI-BLE.

The Queer King recommends JUST KIDS, Patti Smith (2010) The chronicles of a love story beyond societal restrictions between Patti Smith and revolutionary artist Robert Mapplethorpe. Why do you need to read it ? Aside from the historical accuracy of the 60/70s, you explore what it feels like to really love someone. And Mapplethorpe is a fascinating man. I cried multiple times.

The Queer King recommends THE X PORTOFLIO , Robert Mapplethorpe (1978) A series of photographs that shade a light on homosexual practices (most of them extremes). Why do you need to see it ? A lot of Mapplethorpe’s work is great, but this is beyond. Not for the sensible soul. Hardcore.

The Queer King recommends SHORTBUS, John Cameron Mitchell (2006) An extremely diverse group of people are desperately trying to connect in a vibrant New York City. Why do you need to see it ? That little miracle isn’t shy about sex. ALL kinds of sex. It’s very much like a Robert Altman movie, if Robert Altman shot a lot of oral sex in his career.

The Queer King recommends LESS, Andrew Sean Greer (2018) As his 50th birthday is coming up, writer Andrew Less is traveling around the world to avoid going to his ex’s wedding. Why do you need to read it ? For the exploration of a gay man’s psyché while his youth and opportunities are behind him. As a gay man, it made me sad. Then it gave me hope. Also now, I want a blue suit.

The Queer King recommends CLOSET MONSTER, Stephen Dunn (2015) 18-year old Oscar tries to figure out his sexuality and face his childhood demons Why do you need to see it ? The Buffy references and great acting. Duh.

The Queer King recommends THE WAY HE LOOKS, Daniel Ribeiro (2014) Blind high school student Leo meets new classmate Gabriel. He starts developing romantic feelings towards him. Why do you need to see it ? Desires and self-realization are themes very well exploited in this movie. The two main actors are phenomenal. I almost wished I was 16 again (but not really).

The Queer King recommends WHEN WE RISE, Cleve Jones (2016) A complete memoir about the journey of activist Cleve Jones, following into the path of Harvey Milk to keep fighting for LGBTQ+ rights and against the AIDS Epidemic. Why do you need to read it ? An in depth look at life at the fore front of activism, with gorgeous interludes of romance, sex and heartbreaks.

The Queer King recommends KILLING EVE, Phoebe Waller-Bridge (2018-present) MI:5 Eve Polastri’s pursuit of International killer Villanelle. Why do you need to see it ? Because lesbian desires are still mostly unseen on mainstream, award-winning programs. It’s very, very, very good.

The Queer King recommends ZIGGY, STARDUST & ME, James Brandon (2019) 1973. Jonathan meets Web. He’s not supposed to. He needs to change. Sweet Ziggy won’t help him now. Why do you need to read it ? It’s not out until August (but I have a proof copy). It’s not great literature (it’s YA after all) but it did fill my heart with feelings of love and hope. Everything Bowie is good for the soul anyway.

The Queer King recommends PRIDE, Stephen Boresford (2014) 1984, Brittain. A strike is breaking the country apart. Lesbians & Gays decide to give their support to the miners. Why do you need to see it ? Because it’s still rare to see a funny movie about gay people which is not condescending.

The Queer King recommends ANGELS IN AMERICA, Tony Kushner (1991–1993) A complex, metaphorical examination of American life, the AIDS epidemic and homosexuality in the 80s. Why do you need to read it ? The writing is glorious, full with incredible characters. A very sensitive approach of flaws in the human spirit. It’s epic.

The Queer King recommends LE ROSE ET LE NOIR , Frédéric Martel (1996) Everything that happened to the Queer community in France from 1968 until the arrival of the PACS. Why do you need to read it ? Information is key. You won’t get a deeper source of information.

The Queer King recommends LILTING, Hong Khaou (2014) A mother tries to understand who her son was after his death, co-existing with his grieving lover. Why do you need to see it ? A story of death, acceptance and race, Lilting is a delicate piece of filmmaking. And again, Ben Whishaw. Goddamn Ben Whishaw.

The Queer King recommends MOONLIGHT, Barry Jenkins (2016) The youth, teenage years and adult life of a black gay man struggling with his identity. Why do you need to see it ? Black gay men are not a common subject. It won Best Picture at the Oscars. Fucking Amazing.

The Queer King recommends POSE (2018-present) The tribulations of gay and transgender characters in the ball scene of the late 80s. Why do you need to see it ? The first of its kind — where representation is limitless, it’s an homage to a fabulous and terrible time in LGBTQ+’s life. As I said in a previous article, it’s essential.

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

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at last, again

Prompts: Plot What Plot and Fame + the recent flood of Avengers: Endgame press.

The worst thing about being famous is that there are never enough locked doors.

Privacy, you know you’ll have to give up; walking down the block for a Starbucks or spending Saturday afternoon at the supermarket, that’s out. Everybody knows your name and every angle of your face and it’s kind of like living in a perpetual Cheers, being a movie star. Except you’re not supposed to drink.

In public, that is. When you’re alone, behind enough security barriers and bodyguards and the right amount of locked doors, then it’s ok to go for the whiskey, the cheap stuff you drank in high school, or the fancy scotch your co-star on that period piece sent you all the way from Edinburgh. They both serve the same purpose: to make the world a little softer, a little more gray at the edges, to make it seem simpler to stretch out on the clean hotel bed and sip your way down into sleep.

But sometimes, in the small hours Sinatra sang about, there’s a knock at your door, very soft, and yet it snaps you straight awake.

Who? you call, just as soft.

Me, the door says, the person on the other side.

Come in, you say, and there’s that weird click, that beep, as the electronic key you slipped him in the makeup trailer this morning whispers to the lock and then the door opens just enough for the light from the hallway to catch the dark crown of his hair and then he’s inside, moving, striding the ten steps to the bed like he owns the place--which, in moments like this, moments when your heart has kickstarted and you’re throwing back the covers, yeah, he sort of does.

Took you long enough, you grumble half-hearted, trying to hide the eagerness of your hands behind 3 AM gruff.

It’s busy out there tonight, he says, leaning into your grip on his hips as he rears back to peel off his shirt. Lots of folks roaming the halls. Plus Mackie got to griping and wouldn’t leave, so.

So. There’s a flicker in your gut that’s not jealous, it’s not, because they’re friends, Seb and Mackie, fellow shitkickers when the mood strikes them right, and you have absolute zero claim to Seb’s time and attention. In public, that is.

When you’re alone, behind the right kind of locked door, then he’s all yours.

And god help you, you’re his.

You reach for the catch of his jeans, the hopeful swell of his fly, and your mouth goes dry at the sound he makes: a short, hot hop of his breath. If you were in a different mood, you’d tease him about it, draw it out--his zipper, your tongue--and give him no end of shit. But you’re not there tonight and he isn’t either; so says his hands in your hair.

Mmmm, he says the the second you touch him, your knuckles brushing his shaft. God. I need your mouth.

Yeah? You touch the head, turn your thumb through the drop of wet waiting there.

His hips jerk and he hums again. Yeah. Wanted you all day. Can’t you tell?

You’re still on your side and it’s awkward so you let him go for a second, sit up, tug his jeans down his thighs and get both hands on his dick.

Baby, he breathes, his throat closing like a choke. Fuck, yes.

In a few hours, the sun will barely be up and they’ll be whisking you somewhere, all of you piled in the back of a big SUV on your way to some talk show or other. Everyone will be grouchy (Scarlett) and/or still asleep (Ruff) and you and Seb will be two among many, co-stars, co-workers, friends. You’ll sit across from each other and you won’t touch and all you’ll be thinking about it the taste of his cock, the heat of it, the sweet, needy noises he lets out as you lick him up one side and down the other, around the head and down to the soft skin of his balls until he folds his hands around the back of your head and whispers and whimpers Enough.

Then he’s shoved in your mouth, hot and snug, your hands on his hips now, nails dug in, lapping and sucking and setting a pace that you can handle, that he can; you’re still learning each other. God, this shit is so new. It feels fucking fragile, having his dick down your throat, his hungry little grunts filling your ears. You’ve known each other forever, for years, and yet this thing, his skin against yours, has only been around a few months, since he crashed at your place around Christmas, so you’re still learning each other--what he likes, what you do--and you feel a tenderness towards him, towards the needs of his body, that when it’s light, when the door is wide open, confuses the hell out of you.

But none of that now, no questioning; there’s no room for it. Not now. Not here.

Here is where his pants are at his ankles and his ass is tense against your palms and he’s groaning, a low, dirty noise that sinks straight to your dick.

Oh, Chris, he says, the words tinged in wonder. Oh, god. Shit shit shit.

You squeeze his ass, let go of it, wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft and slip the others behind his balls, up and back. He’s clenched so fucking tight. Next time, you think, half delirious, you’re gonna come with me inside of you, babe. I’m gonna look down and watch my dick disappear inside you then look up and watch your face when you say my name and you come.

Gonna, Seb gets out, the word strained hard through his teeth. Baby, stop, fuck. I’m gonna come.

It’s only then that you realize, remember, care that he’s not wearing a condom. You’d left one on the fucking nightstand, hoping. It’s a handbreadth away. It’s right there. But you forgot. You forgot you forgot you forgot.

You don’t care.

He moans above you, hands folded over your shoulders, not quite yet a push.

Chris. He sounds desperate. Please. Jesus, you’re gonna make me --

And then that’s all you want, all you’ve ever wanted since this started: to taste him like this, to have your mouth full of his spunk, to kiss him after and feel him shudder when he tastes him self, when he sucks his come off your tongue.

He could knock you away, step back and free himself from your grasp, but he doesn’t. In fact, he’s rutting now, fucking hard into the steady suck of your mouth, and you know, in the split second before he spills, how badly he wants this, too.

Fuck, Seb says, thready and helpless. Oh, god. I love--

Then his hips still and he’s groaning and you’re petting his hole while he pumps himself over your tongue and you swallow because it feels right and that only makes him come more, makes him dig his nails into your shoulders and let out a hurt little sound that drives you damn well out of your head.

Do you like that? A thumb on your lips now, tracing the place where his body meets yours. All that mess I made for you? You do, don’t you? Oh, god. Yeah, you do.

Then he is pushing and he is shoving and you’re flat on your back and he’s diving in behind, straddling, putting his knees on either side of your hips.

Kiss me, you say ragged, hopeful. You don’t have to ask twice.

You come quick in his fist, the bloom of his spunk on your lips, the soft echo of his voice in your ear.

I should’ve turned the light on, Seb says. When you started sucking me. Should’ve watched you swallow me.

You’re humping his grip, wild, making more noise than you should, but you don’t care. You just want to get off, want to feel Seb make you.

Yeah? He brings your mouths together, moans soft when you do. Something you want, Evans?

You, you say, stupid and far too fucking loud. Jesus, Seb. It’s you. I want you.

The clock says 4:30 when he climbs out of bed and fumbles for his jeans in the dark. You lay there, silent, tracing the last of the night’s quiet. There’s too much that you want to say.

How did this go from getting smashed on Christmas bourbon and falling rowdy into bed to something that feels like this: wistful and hopeful and the good kind of sad, a yearning, the kind of loneliness that’s finite, that you know will come to happy end. You’ll fly out of here this afternoon and by this time tomorrow morning be in a different city, a different fancy hotel, but Seb will be right there with you, his hand on your cheek, his mouth sweet and lazy, at last, again, on your own.

Don’t forget your key, you say.

He smiles and bites at your lip. ‘Course not, he murmurs. Don't want you locking me out.

#evanstan #secret relationship #friends to lovers #avengers: endgame press tour

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stelliscripture · 7 years

Text

so familiar a gleam

so this is..........a thing. it started out as a benign gag on twitter abt how neat a faye/silque sleeping beauty au would be as a ~metaphor~ for how faye is so hung up on the past and turned into this, which is making a strong case for itself as the most pretentious fic i've ever written. the title even came from the '50s disney movie lmao

mostly i just wanted to play around w/inserting fairytale elements into the canon and also mila's turnwheel shenanigans? expect more faye/silque from me in the future re: reading faye as caught in the throes of compulsory heterosexuality + silque's postgame quandaries of faith/mila's turnwheel-induced timeloops.

also on ao3!

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act i

Faye begins to disappear on occasion. Sometimes only for a few hours, and once--only once--for days at a time. The woods around Ram Village are empty and quiescent once more, after so much turmoil came crashing through them. Things are (almost) as they should be. There are only subtle reminders that Faye cannot quite ignore, things missing or things now present, that tell her time has indeed passed on without her.

It's this notion that gives her the idea, wild and uninformed. She'd told herself she'd eschew all the magic she'd learned, only for it to build up and fill her like water threatening to burst from a dam. So she puts it to use, making excuses to visit Kliff with his ever-growing library of tomes and treatises that she struggles to even read. Deep in the woods, she picks out the threads of knowledge hastily gleaned from those books and tries, with unsteady hands, to weave a shroud of sorts.

No, she rescinds, a shroud sounds so morbid. A shroud is for the dead, and her intention is not to die--that is too much stagnation, even for her. She only wants to sleep, for a time.

Kliff leaves one day, without any real warning or goodbye. His parents fret over the succinct letter he left upon their table, showing it to Faye in their distress. She can't help but find it funny that Kliff can still be so grandiloquent in so few words. His absence is another gaping hole in the patchwork image of Ram Village that Faye clings to, but a part of her is almost glad that he's set off for parts unknown. He most likely knew what she was up to--at the very least, he could have made an educated guess.

Though she hates to stray much further from the village than the shrine where she weaves her magic, Faye does start spending more time with Gray and Tobin in the wake of Kliff's departure. She feels the ravine of years between herself and them, and wonders how she never noticed it growing. There is a twinge of guilt, whenever she forgets herself enough to be happy with them for just a moment. If she pushes forward for once in her life, there will soon be a distance too far to jump, a river too vast to ford.

The spell requires memories, frozen like the molasses she and the boys used to throw out into the snow and eat as candy. So she weaves them into the shroud: Kliff's intent, unwavering gaze, Gray's bombastic witticisms and his quiet empathy, Tobin's earnest, brotherly warmth. Gray stops her at the village gates one time, out of Tobin's earshot, and asks her in that easy way of his if she has a mind to pay Alm a visit anytime soon. She hears herself telling him, no. He believes her no more than she believes herself, but Gray is a good friend when it comes to knowing when to push and when to leave things be. Has he always been so good about that? Faye can't seem to remember, though Gray has been as constant in the white noise of her life as all her other friends. He tells her, I'll let Alm know you say hello, and ruffles her hair.

(Months later, near the end, Faye realizes that both Gray and Tobin think she wants to avoid Celica, when in fact, she finds herself missing that quiet girl with the yellow ribbon who taught her to weave crowns from flowers.)

Alm is the centerpiece of it all, the focal point of the magic she only half-understands. Though she still thinks of him as her prince, Faye cannot picture him as a king. To do so would be to throw herself forward into an uncertain future, when she must root herself to the past to make this spell work. She weaves her shroud like a tapestry, a still scene in a village that will never change. Here, ripe oranges that will never fall. There, her parents and her grandmother, who will never teeter over the edge of her old age. At the forefront, Gray, Tobin, Kliff, and Alm, all before the village gates without ever passing through them.

The magic is exhausting, unfamiliar words blistering her lips and tearing through the cool moss and stone of the shrine where she works with heat that edges on unbearable. At one point, she has to stop entirely, the shape of the magic completely lost to her as the ground itself seems to buck and seize before throwing her with a harsh crack into total darkness. When she awakens, Faye feels dried blood at her temple, and forces herself, trembling, not to think about how close she's come to death. Faye notices with a twinge of guilt the way her parents seem to collectively hold their breath whenever she returns, gaunt and drained, only to finally exhale once a healthy flush has returned to her cheeks.

Her parents trot men before her with an increasing lack of subtlety. Faye smiles weakly before each of them, dropping hints about a certain someone who still has her heart, if only to stop the roiling twist in her gut she feels every time a suitor gets too close. She tells herself she only feels such revulsion with a force that takes her by surprise because she can't help but compare them to Alm, always perfect in that he will always be unattainable.

When she leaves, she does nothing special. Doing so would be acknowledging that anything in her life is really changing, moving forward--with or without her.

"I'm off," she tells her mother, one morning in spring. The words scratch the insides of her throat and clatter against the backs of her teeth when they leave her mouth, like falling rocks. Her mother blinks in surprise, and it's only then that Faye begins to wonder how long it's been since she last spoke aloud, with all of her friends long since gone from the village.

"Safe journey, dearest," her mother says. Does she know, like Kliff might have? Faye quashes the doubt neatly, folds with perfect creases in a practiced fashion engendered by a lifetime of self-denial. She'll lose what time she's saved, if she starts to explore any of the things she's begun to realize about the people around her, the people she spent so long relegating to the periphery of her awareness.

The shrine is quiet as always, and with the thieves long since gone, Faye isn't entirely sure what it ought to be named now. Even the mold has given way to some flowers, especially closest to Mila's old idol. This is where Faye has woven her shroud, at the idol's foot where sunlight dapples the ground. How long had it taken? She struggles to recall months, weeks, days, anything more concrete than a jumble of half-formed memories that don't even feel like they belong to her. It occurs to Faye only briefly that she might die, if she's woven the spell wrong. If nothing else, she has always been a good seamstress.

Faye lies down on the ground, sits back up to adjust her skirt, then stirs yet again to rearrange her hair over her shoulders. Funny, she thinks, how she can't bring herself to do something as easy as sleeping, when she's been so tired. That thought, of straining for something for so long, only to feel nothing upon reaching it, seizes Faye with a thrumming edge of discomfort. Once more (for the last time? she can only hope) Faye tamps it down.

Squinting against the faint sunlight streaming into her eyes, Faye begins casting the spell to draw the shroud over herself.

intermission

Restless, her mother would have called her. A pilgrimage requires a purpose--otherwise, you are simply taking a jaunt. Not for the first time, Silque wonders what her mother would have made of this world without gods. Her mother, who fled first Duma, then the man who sired her child, to end up in Mila's embrace--could she move on a third time? Silque struggles to do so just this once, catching herself still referencing Mila's teachings as if talking about an old lover. The inaction eats at her, when she had wanted so desperately to feel relieved, now returned to the fold at Novis.

"I must go," she tells Nomah before one of the priory's many altars. It looks so empty and alien without Mila's visage. When she speaks her intent aloud, at least it sounds better, more justifiable. "While I doubt the people need me in particular, they do need someone, so by your leave, I mean to go forth and be that someone."

Nomah runs a hand over the ruff of his beard, as he often does in an attempt to look properly sagely and unreadable.

"Far be it from me to stop you," he muses, as if he is asking her a question: does she want to be stopped?

Silque folds her hands over each other and gives a shallow bow. The act is part obeisance, part simple gratitude.

"You have my thanks for your...understanding," Silque says, for lack of a better word. This elicits a chortle from Nomah that he attempts to muffle, though the merry gleam of humor in his eyes always gives him away.

"And you have my blessings--as well as my turnwheel, I presume?"

The device rests in a pack against Silque's hip, the soft thrum both like and utterly unlike the constancy of clockwork. She marvels that the turnwheel has found its way back to her again, when far greater hands have spun it before hers. In the absence of Mila's will, is it, like her, now mere flotsam in the current of time?

"I shall keep it safe," Silque assures him.

"You'd do better to keep yourself safe," Nomah returns, clapping her on the shoulder in a way she supposes is meant to be fatherly. She is always uncertain when it comes to men, though at least Nomah's fondness is something she knows she can trust. "Always the ascetic, eh?" he adds, though not unkindly.

A smile tugs at the corner of Silque's lips.

"Rest assured, this truly is what brings me fulfillment." Fulfillment, yes, but happiness--she is never quite sure.

Travel is less hazardous than it has been in the past, a happy set of circumstances that Silque never thinks to attribute to the way her saint's robes make those around her think twice about how to treat her. Fewer hazards do not make for more ease, though, so Silque busies herself at every turn with any manner of healing she can offer. She tells herself the ultimate destination of her pilgrimage is the north, a land of sorrow and mistrust in equal measure. If nothing else, she can scratch the itch that's been tickling her conscience, that she has only embarked on this travel out of selfish wanderlust. To see in peacetime the place her mother once called home--surely that must be her true motive.

And yet, she veers south, bypassing the capitol entirely for thick woodlands where she can go days without seeing another person. What does she even hope to find, she chides herself, when there is nothing, no one left waiting here? At Silque's hip, Mila's Turnwheel ticks on.

act ii

She still visits shrines when she can find them, though this one is so given over to nature that she nearly passes it by. Brambles hug the cave's entrance, their roses just slightly past peak bloom. Inside, there is only the slow drip of water and lush growths of fragrant moss. When she emerges into the shrine's inner chamber, dappled sunlight filling her eyes in a soft welcome, she almost doesn't notice. Silque moves to kneel at the foot of Mila's long-empty idol, only to stop short with the realization that her place is already taken.

A young woman lies on the ground, eyes closed, hands folded over her chest. Edging closer, Silque smells only the flowers and the earth, no sweeter, sicklier odor of decay. Indeed, the young woman appears for all intents and purposes to simply be napping in a particularly odd place. The thrumming sheen of magic over her body, made ever so slightly visible by the rippling sunlight, is the only sign of anything unnatural. Then again, it is also a reasonable guarantee that the woman is indeed alive.

She's lovely in her repose, tawny, flyaway hair tucked into twin braids whose lengths are just slightly uneven. The lightest freckles dust her rosy cheeks, and the curve of her mouth is soft, even if its set, in conjunction with her slightly-furrowed brow, suggests an edge of frustration. Embarrassed by the immediacy of her attraction, Silque diverts her scrutiny from the swell of the woman's chest beneath those dainty, interlaced fingers and examines the spell instead.

It is a magic unlike anything she's ever seen before, though it carries with it the faintest hint of nostalgia that she cannot place. Almost like a blanket or a shroud, it hangs over the sleeping woman. There is even a perceptible perimeter to it, where the grass and flowers abruptly cease to grow around the outline of the woman's body. Almost unconsciously, Silque kneels to examine the scene closer, as Mila's empty idol looms over them both, unseeing. She cannot put a purpose to such a spell, or a reason to why anyone would do such a thing to someone else. It is neither cruel nor kind--the woman is simply there, asleep and untouched.

Silque hesitates, catching herself considering ways to undo what's been done here. She remembers her mother's tales, which she knows to be more than fantasies concocted to keep women in line: witches in the hinterlands, masked women with all the blood drained from their still-moving bodies, vestals who commit themselves to the flames in search of power denied to them by all other means. Could this magic belong to some witch, thought? She searches the woman's face again for some blemish, some hint of the unnatural. Again, she finds nothing but a twinge of fond sadness whose source in her memories she cannot locate. Beseechingly, she turns her gaze to the idol for guidance she does not truly expect to find.

At her hip, Mila's Turnwheel begins to tick more audibly, its tempo accelerating with insistence. Startled by the reentry of sound into the silent chamber, Silque fumbles with the worn leather straps of the turnwheel's pack. Retrieved, it glows gently, but no vision springs forth at her touch. She frowns. She'd hoped against hope for some sign from a goddess long since gone, which makes it all the more foolish of her to feel let down. Still, the next step seems self-evident. Silque gives the wheel a turn, then another, then another, letting it guide her fingers until it is satisfied.

Mila's Turnwheel offers only glimpses of the time being unwound. So much of it is nothing more than the slow growing and dying of plants in reverse. How much time has it been, as the world changes around this unchanging woman? The retrospective is intercut with the faintest impressions of other memories: a man's back, clad in dark blue-green armor. A village square where all the people stand still. Two women's voices, one of which Silque could swear is her own.

The turnwheel locks, unable to go back any further.

Unaware that she has been holding her breath, Silque lets it go in a rush, releasing the turnwheel to strip back the veneer of time. She hopes, plaintively, that she is not making a mistake.

The sleeping woman stirs. Her eyes open with a start, only to flutter closed, before settling into a bleary, half-awake state. She tries to speak, but the words seem to stick to her lips.

"Take your time," Silque says softly, aware of how silly that sounds, given the circumstances.

"Alm," the woman croaks at last. Confused, Silque glances over her packs, then back at the woman.

"I...do indeed have some food and coin to share," she ventures.

"No, not alms, Alm. He's a person."

"Not a person I'm acquainted with, I'm afraid."

Oddly, the woman's sigh sounds relieved. When she struggles to sit up, Silque aids her, awkwardly mindful of where she places her hands. Awake and animated, the woman has a sort of doelike quality to her, looking around with soft brown eyes that carry in them a questioning edge.

"You've been asleep," Silque tells her. She speaks slowly, so as not to shock. The woman nods absently, still searching for something Silque cannot see. At last, she says,

"Funny that you of all people should find me." There is a tentative fondness in her voice.

"Beg pardon? I don't believe we've ever met." And yet, there is a familiarity Silque cannot quite shake. For the first time, the woman seems to have all her wits about her, frowning with confusion.

"No? But, you're--what's your name?"

"I am Silque," she says.

"I'm Faye," the woman replies, her inflection suggesting that this is information Silque should already know.

act iii

Again, the silence yawns between them. Faye struggles to think of something to say, wits addled by magic and sleep. Anything to bridge this one gap, to prove to herself that she can do it right this time. Silque's gaze is patient as ever, with that slight hint of concern that she'll never voice. Faye wonders if she's gone and done all this for naught, and wouldn't that be embarrassing, to explain why she's been here for perhaps a few months at best?

"Who reigns?" Faye asks suddenly, recalling now the first thing she'd said upon awakening.

Silque tells her.

The name means nothing to Faye--this is what you wanted, she tells herself. Fear and triumph wage war in her chest, so riotously that she swears she can feel her ribcage rattle.

"And...this may seem even odder, but what year is it?"

Silque tells her.

Is it more than she'd expected, or less? She wonders what became of the villages, woven into the vestiges of her shroud, along with every person who no longer lives there. It makes Silque's presence all the more a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. Faye's never believed all too ardently in Mila, but perhaps she ought to give thanks now to that long-gone goddess.

"I've been asleep for a long time," she admits.

"Evidently," is Silque's even response.

Faye leans forward, her limbs slowly remembering the fundamental feeling of motion. For the first time, she notices the way Silque's cheeks flush at her proximity. She's noticing all manner of new things, now.

"Would you mind if we went outside?" Faye asks. "There's so much I want to see."

#!sov

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trulymadlysydney · 7 years

Text

Dreams (submission)

I took forever to submit this to you, b'cuz I’m shyyy. I’ve never put myself out in the open so yeahhh. I’m not a good writer by any means, but, hopefully you and someone else might enjoy it. :)

–

“Like tha’? You like tha’?”, Harry grunts, continuously slamming our hips together, sending me into oblivion. I can’t form words, I can’t even open my eyes. Everything feels like a blur and I’m caught in a whirlwind of emotion. I feel his hands grab my hair and I only see him through slit eyes. He bends down closer to my face and I can feel his hot breath on my lips. “Like it when I fill ya up like tha’? Huh?”, he grunts, grabbing my hair in his fist tighter. “Fuck, Harry, YES-”, I manage to moan out. “Ya’ get so fuckin’ wet for me, don’t cha’? Just for m’ cock..” “God, Harry-” Everything about this is filthy and ruff and fast- I feel like I’m spinning. I feel his slams grow harder and faster, to the point where all I can hear is my own heavy breathing. My eyes are squeezed shut and I’m practically chanting his name as if it were prayer. I’m confused when the climax I’m so desperately waiting to hit me like a ton of bricks comes to a sudden halt as I’m being shaken. My mouth is dry as my eyes snap open and I stare into a dark room. My heart is pounding against my chest and I feel another gentle shake on my shoulder. I turn my head, my breathing haggard, as I see Harry gently rubbing his eye with his other hand. “Babe..babe wake up..ya’ havin’ a nightmare..”, he mumbles, his voice thick from sleep. Although he’s only in his white boxer-briefs and I’m wearing nothing but some beige, silk panties and a baggy tee, there is definitely no ruff, loud, filthy sex going on. As my breathing starts to catch up, I try snapping myself out of my daze. “…what..?”, I mumble. It felt so real, I thought to myself, Dammit. Harry licks his lips, his eyes still shut as he stretches, letting out a groan. His groan makes something in me jump, my legs clamping together at the sound. His head turns to me and his eyes slowly open up. “Hmm..you okay, doll?”, he asks sleepily. I stare at him back in astonishment. Point two seconds ago I was a having a very realistic dream of him ruffly shoving his hard cock up into me, while moaning horribly filthy things to me. And now here he was, in real life, so innocent and with sleep in his eyes, concerned that I had a nightmare. His hand lazily reaches to my forehead, wiping away at the sweat I didn’t realize was there. “Ya’ sweatin’..one of the bad ones, wasn’t it?” My lips part open but before I can manage to speak, he presses a light kiss on my forehead. “S'okay, love, ’m right here. Go back to sleep, yeah?”, he says sweetly. I gulp, nodding once. He gives me a small smile before he kicks away from the blankets and throws an arm over his forehead, quickly falling back to sleep. I turn my head up to the ceiling and let out a breath, pressing my clammy hand onto my forehead. Oh my fuck, I thought, I just had a wet dream. A very real, wet dream. I peaked over at Harry, who seemed to already be in deep sleep, and slyly slid my hand down into my panties. I gasped lightly when I felt just how wet I really was. Yeah, that was one hell of a dream, I thought again. I squeezed my legs together and shut my eyes, flashes of the dream appearing in my mind. The way he was slamming into me, hard- fast..ruff. His moans, how full I felt with him in me, and the filth he spoke… My legs squeezed together even tighter and I silently groaned. What killed me even more was that I knew Harry could give me all of that. He did plenty of times before… each time as mind blowing as the last. But now, at roughly two in the morning, I needed him. And I needed him badly. I sighed, turning to my side so I could face him. He was so innocent and sweet looking. His lips slightly parted as he breathed in and out in harmony as he slept. His recently cut hair.. all disheveled and sticking up everywhere.. the scruff on his jawline and chin that started to grow in after months of convincing him not to shave it off.. I loved how it felt against my skin as he kissed me. I loved how it left the skin in my inner thighs red after he would go down on me time and time again. My eyes trailed to his chest, then his stomach.. until they reached his happy trail. I brought my hand onto his abdomen until it laid on top of where my eyes were staring at. His skin was so hot and soft.. just a few more inches and.. He took a deep breath, letting out a yawn and small stretch under my hand. I stared up at his face, not once did his eyes blink open. He was always such a heavy sleeper. Unfortunate for me right now. My eyes fell back onto where my hand laid and then it scanned to the area I needed most. In his white briefs, I could faintly see the bump of his cock in the dark room. I knew Harry wouldn’t have any trouble giving me what I wanted, he’d be much obliged to. But at two in the morning, I felt bad from waking him from his slumber. Especially after he had been so busy last night with everything going on, not only with the movie he’s starring in, but his album. But fucking hell… did I want him. Now. My hand slowly ran over the light rise of his briefs and my eyes shut at the feel of him. Harry was always packin’ heat, but it never not got to me how much heat was actually packin’. I scooted closer to him and softly grazed my nails over the fabric of his briefs, just imaging how his warm dick would feel in my hand…in my mouth.. in between my legs.. Very gently did I massage him, my legs squeezing tighter and tighter together as I felt myself grow even wetter between them. I was driving myself crazy but I couldn’t stop. And I couldn’t handle it any longer. I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “Harry…”, I whispered in a needy tone. But he was in deep sleep, not hearing a thing. I pressed a few kisses along his jawline continuing to massage him with the palm of my hand. I felt him grow stiffer as I did and it would only be a matter of time until he’d feel the blood rush to his dick, pulling him awake. God, but I needed him to wake up now. “Harry…babe…please wake up…”, I whispered against his ear. “Please…”, I nearly begged. I couldn’t help myself any longer before I decided to dip my hand into his briefs. I lightly gasped at how warm and heavy he felt in my palm. I quivered and felt a slight tingle between my legs as I imagined how it would feel inside me. His lips parted and his head snapped to the side as his eyebrows creased, exhaling a deep, satisfying breath. I knew he felt this new sensation somewhere in his dreams. I started to run my hand up and down his shaft, my thumb grazing over the slit of his tip. I felt as he grew stiffer and stiffer into my palm as I continued to pump him, his shallow breaths turning messy and haggard. At this point, I was soaked between my legs. If he didn’t wake up now, I wouldn’t know what to do. I felt a bit of his pre cum spill out and I used it to my advantage, making sure to twist my wrist slightly so he could really feel it. With that, I felt his dick twitch into my palm and his breathing hitched. His stomach spasmed and I heard him moan ever so softly. As I continued to pump him up and down, his hips began to move and his hands became small fists above him. I couldn’t help myself as I moaned and bit down onto his shoulder, which is what it took to wake him up. He shuddered and his eyes slowly blinked open as he took in a deep, shaky breath. I stared into his eyes as I bit down on my lip and he stared back into mine. He was still full of sleep but with my hand pumping his dick up and down, he brought himself to blink out of it quickly. “What’s…what’s this..?”, he sighed out softly, a small whimper leaving his lips afterwards. I stopped my hand movements and sucked in my bottom lip. “M'so wet, Harry…”, I groaned. “I-I dun’ know why..I jus’…need you-” His eyes grew a bit wide and he peered down to where he felt his, now, rock solid dick. Once he saw my hand inside his briefs I started to massage him once again. His mouth fell open and his eyes blinked shut. “Jesus…babe-” I breathed heavily into his neck now, giving soft kisses. “I dun’ know why..but I’m so damn horny right now, H… please..”, I begged, planting wet kisses onto his neck. He turned his head towards me, watching me with lust filled eyes. “Ya’ serious, love?” I nodded, taking my hand out from his briefs. I grabbed his hand and led it in between my legs and into my panties. His fingers spread into my folds and I moaned as he ran them up and down my slit. “So..serious..”, I softly moaned out. He moaned, scooting closer to me. “Fuck, doll, you’re absolutely drenched..” I nodded again, desperately. “Please..please let me fuck you.. I need it..”, I begged. He licked his bottom lip as he continued to rub small circles around my clit. I moaned and hitched my leg around his hip, digging my face deeper onto his neck as I felt myself turning into a puddle. “Mmm- shit, babe, all this cuz ya’ want m’ cock?”, he grunted. I felt as he slowly slid a finger into me and I gripped his shoulder tightly as I gasped. “F-fuck, yes-”, I moaned. “All this cuz ya want m'cock inside ya?”, he spoke in a deep voice, sliding another finger into me. “Yes, Harry..please-”, I begged as I withered into his arms. He started to pump his finger in and out of me at an agonizing slow pace. Though his fingers felt so good, I craved for something bigger and thicker. I looked up at him and he stared down into my eyes. He still looked so sleepy but his lips were wet and his cheeks were flushed. God, did I want him. “I wanna ride you..please let me ride your cock, H..”, I said in a shallow voice. He licked down at his bottom before nodding. “Yes, babe, yeah- whateva’ ya want..” His slid out of my wet entrance and I climbed fully over him, straddling his hips. I pulled my shirt off and slid my panties off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “God, Harry.. I want to feel you in me..”, I moaned, completely engulfed with want. I took no time and reached into his underwear, pulling his cock out, which was was as hard as a rock, leaking onto his stomach. He simply stared at me with an open mouth and dazed eyes as I lifted myself up and ground against his shaft. His moans and curses filled the room and I pressed my hand onto his butterfly tattoo to keep my balance. I threw my head back at the feeling of his cock running against my slick folds and clit, my eyes nearly watering over the sensation. “You like how I feel against ya? Do ya..? Fuck, baby…you feel so fuckin’ wet on me..”, he moaned quietly, gripping my hips tightly as he moved me. I moaned and lifted myself up, no longer being able to wait. I took the tip of him and aligned it at my entrance, gasping as I slowly sank myself on him. “Yes, baby… slide me in jus’ like tha’…”, he moaned. “Ya’ like how I feel in ya..?” I threw my head back as the rest of him slid in with how wet I was, moaning out his name in response. “Oh fuck, Harry-” “Go on and fuck me, babe..jus’ how ya’ wanna..”, he moaned. I started to move my hips, the feeling of him in me so filling I could hardly breathe. “God, ya’ take me so good, babe… so fuckin’ good..” I moaned even louder and my arms felt like jello on him. He started to slam his hips up against mine and I yelled out his name as I fell onto his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck tightly. He wrapped his arms my back as he started to pound into me, the bed shaking beneath us. “Mm..fuck- ya’ like that? Ya like how I fuck into ya like that?” “Fuck, Harry- yes!”, I moaned out loud and grabbed onto his hair tightly. “Always such a good girl.. always fuckin’ me so good.. fuck-”, Harry moaned, his hands moving up to grip onto my hair, just like in my dream. I felt my stomach twist and with a snap of his hips, I could feel myself almost become undone in his arm. I gasped and with shaky arms, sat up, pressing my hands onto his chest as I started to grind up against him fast and hard. “Oh, shit- oh fuck- Harry!”, I yelled, throwing my head back. “Fuck yeah- that’s it’s babygirl, fuck me.. fuck me..”, Harry moaned. He reached his hand up to move my hair out of my face and he slid his thumb into my mouth which I gladly took to suck on. “Cum all over m'cock, baby.. I wanna feel ya’ cum all over m'cock..” His words were driving me over the edge and as I made the bed shake with how hard I was riding him, I felt his hand slide between us and rub my clit in fast circles. “Fuck! Oh- fuck, Harry-”, I nearly cried. “That’s it, babygirl.. cum all over me..let it go-” I threw my head back, yelling out his name along with other profanities and filth as I came hard onto him. His thumb kept rubbing circles onto my clit as I rode out my orgasm, sending spasms all throughout my body. My eyes watered towards the end of my orgasm and I fell, limp, right onto his chest afterwards. My breathing was heavy and hard, my body sticky against his as he patted my hair down and ran his hands through it. “There, there, love…”, he murmured, “breathe..” I shut my eyes and tried to collect myself, my heart refusing to calm down in my chest. He softly grazed his fingers up and down my spine to bring me down from my intense high and soothe me. “Ya came hard, didn’t ya?”, he chuckled, pressing a kiss to my damp temple. I sighed, nodding as I peered up at him. “So hard..”, I croaked, my voice a little strain from all the yelling. “Jus’ like my dream.” “Good..”, he smirked. “Wait- what was that?” He peered down at me and I laughed, shutting my eyes. “Yeah.. I wasn’t a having a nightmare when you woke me up. Definitely not a nightmare.” “Well fuck me, m'baby havin’ wet dreams bout me.”, he laughed, sounding cocky. Right then, I felt him slightly move inside of me and that’s when I remembered- “You didn’t cum!-”, I gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head and pressed my head back down onto his chest. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, doll.” “No, no- you have to cum-” “No, I don’t.. this was for you, babe.”, he said softly. “But I like it when you cum-”, I whimpered, pouting slightly. He gulped, his cock twitching inside of me again. “N-no.. s'alright, really. You’re all worn out, love. I’ll jus’ have a quick tug ‘n-” I shook my head, not letting him finish, started to move my hips again. I gasped at how sensitive I still was but also because he still felt so hard and still so good inside of me. “N-no..”, I said softly as I moaned, “You’re gonna cum, okay?” “Babe- I-”, he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his head back into the pillow. “Shit.” Before he could say anything else, I started to grind my hips onto his and move myself in circles. “Jus’ cum inside me, H.. I want you to cum inside me..”, I whimpered as I sat up, grabbing one of his hands to cup my breast. He bit down roughly on his bottom lip as he stared up at me with half shut eyes. “Fuckin’…hell..”, he moaned in a deep, shaky voice. With a few more move of my hips, I could feel him tense up beneath me. I grabbed his other hand and put his fingers in my mouth, licking and sucking on the tips of them as if it were his dick. He moaned and threw his head back in response. “Fuck- doll- I-”, he mumbled. “Cum inside me, Harry- feel how I wet I still am because of you-” With that, his hands dropped down to grab onto my hips tightly, digging his nails into my skin and throwing his back deeper into the pillows as he came. He shook underneath me, moaning out my name and other incoherent curses along with it. I could feel him spill into me and I rode him out all the way through his orgasm just as he did with me. I leaned down and took his mouth into mine, breathing in all his moans and curses. “Fuckin’ shit, doll-”, he breathed out, “Jesus fuckin’…” Slowly, he came down from his own high and soon, we were once again wrapped up in each other’s arms. I pressed myself against his chest, panting, as I heard his heart thump rapidly. After a few minutes, his heart beat was back to normal, along with our breathing. I slid myself out of him, coming down to lay on his side while still keeping one of my legs hooked around his hip. Both of us extremely fucked out and nearly half asleep, we brought our lips together and sloppily kissed one another. Our tongues danced as his bit down on my lip before kissing the corners of my mouth, pushing my hair out of my face. “I love you so fuckin’ much..”, he said in a low tone. “Mmm..I love you too..”, I mumbled sleepily. “M'doll feel better now?”, he asked, his finger grazing my cheek softly. “Does she feel good?” I nodded, shutting my eyes as I cuddle close to his neck. “Mhm. She feels so much better.” He shut his eyes and pressed a kiss onto my forehead. “Good. All I care 'bout. No more dreams for a while now, huh?” I chuckled and kissed his collar bones. “Mmmm, not sure I can promise that.” He laughed, pressing his forehead against mine. “Well y'know I’ll be right here to make 'em real for ya.” Shutting my eyes again as the sleep took over, I sighed out happily. “Mm. Thank you, babe.” His fingers grazed my back lazily as the both of us started to fall into deep sleep. “Mmhm..anything for m'babygirl. Anything.” And at three in the morning, we peacefully fell back to sleep.

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BABE THAT WAS..... OH MY GOD. So very good! You should be very proud! I loveeeee it 😍

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