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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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wh0re43van · 5 months

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Frogger Pt 2 (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Summary: You return to peters house to finish what you started, but he’s way ahead of you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Very smutty, Masturbation, sub!peter (no mommy kink tho bc Idr fuck with that), edging, whiny Peter, pantie stealing

A/n: I can’t get this divider to work right and I’ve also just realized that Frogger came out on Atari in ‘83 not ‘73,,, so just ignore that huge plot hole pls 🙏🏻 Speaking of which, I’d like to take this moment to say: Frogger? I hardly know her!

Okay thats it. Thank you for reading!!

Pt 1

After picking my little brother up from school, I pull into our driveway.

“Alright come on, Finn. you’re gonna learn how to heat up a TV dinner today,” I say as I open the passenger door for my brother, ushering him quickly towards our front door.

“Why?” he asks, confused as we enter our home.

“Cause I got shit to do. You’ve got five minutes to ask questions then I’m leaving,” I say as I walk into the bathroom right next to our kitchen to check my reflection. “So, you better start now,” I say as I reapply my lipstick.

“What? Does mom know?” he asks, sounding horrified.

“No and she won’t find out because I’ll be home before she gets back from her Tupperware party and you aren’t gonna say anything,” I say as I shake my finger in his face.

“Y/n, I’m only eight. What if someone breaks in?” he squeaks as he follows my quick steps to the freezer. I open the door, pulling out a random frozen meal.

“Then hide,” I say flatly, knowing that our neighborhood is safe. He looks at me, still horrified.

“Ugh,” I groan before grabbing a pen and writing the Maximoff phone number on our calendar that’s hanging on the fridge. “I’m going to Peters. This is their phone number. Call and ask for me if anything happens. I should be back in an hour or two,” I say before grabbing my keys off the counter and walking to the door. “Lock the doors, don’t answer for anyone unless it’s me, mom, or dad and stay inside the house,” I say as I unlatch the wooden door.

“Wait! You didn’t tell me about the dinner!” he stops me in my tracks.

“You can read right?” I ask, he nods his head. “Directions are on the box,” I lock the door behind me as I all but run towards my vehicle.

As I take the short drive to Peters house, my heart races in anticipation. I hate to admit it, but I managed to get just as worked up as he did- if not, more. My Fleetwood Mac cassette plays loudly in my stereo, but all I can hear is the whimpers that escaped Peter’s mouth earlier. He looked so fucking pathetic writhing underneath me, mewling through shaky breaths; It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The image of peter standing half naked, desperate, and confused with his pants so tight around his erection that his button could pop off at any moment makes more core ache. I pull up to the Maximoff house, parking halfway on the curb, but I’m in too much of a hurry to fix it. I sprint up to the door, taking a deep breath to compose myself before knocking. Ms. Maximoff soon opens the door.

“Y/n, back so soon?” she grins, allowing me to enter.

“Yes ma'am, I have something that I need to finish,” I smile innocently. She nods.

“Peter should be downstairs, I haven’t seen him since you left,” she walks back to the kitchen, leaving me to make my way to Peter’s room. I quietly walk down the stairs, stepping onto the shag carpet. I freeze in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat and my heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of me.

Peter sitting upright on his couch, completely naked, his head thrown back, resting on the back of the sofa as his hand pumps his rock hard dick. His eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth hangs agape, releasing the hottest whimpers I’ve ever heard. His cheeks and lips are flushed as his nose scrunches in pleasure… then I hear it.

“Fuck, y/n” he mewls, so quiet I could barely hear it, but the sound of him muttering my name as he strokes himself rings through my ears like a trumpet, making my knees weak.

‘Oh, this gonna be wicked!’ I smirk to myself.

“Yes?” I bite my lip, approaching the disheveled boy. Peter’s so stunned that he just jumps up. He doesn’t zoom away. He just stands there with the most horrified expression I’ve ever seen.

“I-I-I didn’t- I wasn’t- y/n,” he sputters, I walk up to him, gently pushing him back down to the couch.

“You weren’t what?” I sit next to him, placing a hand on his chest; He’s hot to the touch. “Rubbing one out while thinking about me?” I ask lowly.

“I well, y-y-you just left me,” he says, staring at me with wide eyes, his dick still standing at attention. “I tried not to, it just wouldn’t go away,” he explains as he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Hmm,” I tap a finger to my lips in mock consideration. “I think I know how to help you,” I say with a shrug. Peter smiles at me, settling into the couch, closing his eyes, waiting for me to touch him. I get down on my knees in between his legs. “But I need you to show me what you were doing first,” I look up at him, laying my head on his bare thigh. He looks down at me, confused.

“Y-you want me to…” he motions towards his erection.

“Mhm,” I hum, looking at him through my lashes. His cheeks burn bright red, but he slowly moves his hand to his length. I watch intently as he begins to stroke himself. His hand runs over his red, swollen tip and he lets out a quiet whimper. “I wanna hear you, Peter,” I hum.

Even though he’s embarrassed, I can tell that he’s enjoying this. His breath quickens and his dick twitches in his hand as I speak. He picks up speed, obeying my command, letting out a pathetic little moan, as he stares down at me. “I think I know what you’re doing wrong,” the sultry tone drips from my tongue as I sit up on my knees.

“What?” he asks, his voice small as he watches my every move. I take his length into my own hand, dipping my head down, gathering spit in my mouth that I allow to drip from my lips onto his swollen tip. His brown eyes, wide as saucers, watches the saliva trickles onto him.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers as I use my fingers to spread the lubrication around. I hear his breath hitch, then I pull my hand away.

“Now try it,” I smile. I can tell he’s getting sexually frustrated.

“Really?” He whines. “But I want-“ he whines some more before I stop him.

“Do it, Peter,” I say sternly. He gulps, returning his hand to his now slick cock. He moans, throwing his head back.

“Doesn’t that feel better, baby?” I coo. He looks down at me, nodding his head. I slowly shift from my knees to sit on my ass, keeping his desperate eyes locked into mine. I spread my legs, revealing my soaked white panties underneath my skirt. Peter whimpers loudly at the sight, thrusting his hips into his hand.

“C-come on y/n, what are you tryin’ to do to me?” He groans, breathlessly.

“I’m helping you, quickie,” I giggle lightly before I run my hand over my clothed core. Peter shifts on the couch, sitting up to get a better view. His hand picks up speed around his length. I hum at the contact on my core, laying my head back, allowing my hair to fall from my shoulders down my back. I tilt my head to the side, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth when I catch Peters gaze locked onto my dripping panties, not even blinking as he pumps his cock mercilessly. The muscles in his arm tense and his dick twitches, precum oozes out.

“Fuck I think I’m gonna-“ he whimpers breathlessly.

“Stop,” I demand. “Remove your hand, Peter,” I direct him as I continue rubbing circles on my clit through the thin cotton. With a reluctant whimper, he pulls away.

“Mmm,” I slide my panties slowly down my legs, he watches with intensity. I’ve never seen him focus on anything this long before. “Good boy,” I praise, tossing the panties beside him on the couch. He looks at them, then back at me. I giggle, pulling my sweater and my tank top over my head, leaving me in just my bra and skirt. When I return my gaze to the couch, Peters eyes are still locked on me like before, but my panties are gone.

‘That pathetic little perverted kleptomaniac,’ I smile to myself. I don’t mention it-allowing him to keep the drenched panties as a prize for listening so well. Instead, I just bring my fingers down to my now exposed core. His eyes follow my hand like a cat’s follow a laser pointer. I use a finger to dip into my soaking entrance, dragging my slick up to my clit before I begin to rub circles on the sensitive skin.

“Mmm, fuck, Peter,” I relish the pleasure that I bring myself. He let’s out a string of mewls as he thrusts up into the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

“Are- Are you tryin’ to kill me?” He whispers, bringing his gaze from my slick folds up to my eyes. I can’t help but laugh at the desperate state of the poor boy.

“What do you mean?” I play Innocent as I move my fingers back to my entrance.

“I-“ He starts but he’s immediately distracted when I slip my finger inside myself, letting out a pornographic moan.

“Go on Peter,” I smirk. “I’m listening,” I bat my lashes.

“You’re just so-“ he speaks as if his mouth has gone dry.

“Fuck,” I let out another moan, purposely cutting him off again as I slip another finger inside myself and begin to curl up into that special spot.

“Please,” he whimpers, his voice cracks, his legs are shaking, his silver hair is stuck to his face with sweat and his dick is so hard that the tip has taken on a purple hue. Finally, I broke him. “Please, please, please, y/n please I’ll do anything,” he whines, pleading for mercy.

I smile, hoping up then turning around, slowly sliding my skirt down, bending over as I push the thin fabric to my feet.

“Please,” he whimpers again. I turn back around, smiling at the poor boy. “I’m not sure I’m enjoying this as much as you are,” he mewls as I straddle his waist. He winces when his erection slaps against my stomach.

“Oh, don’t lie to me Peter,” I whisper in his ear. I bring my fingers that I was using on myself up to his mouth, he happily opens, sucking them clean as he stares up at me with his big puppy eyes.

Jesus Christ I moan internally.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I bring my face right in front of his, grabbing either side of his cheeks with the same hand. “Don’t act up now,” I say sternly. He responds with an audible gulp. “Tell me Peter. Tell me how much you’re enjoying our time together right now,” I whisper as I ghost the fingers of my free hand over his needy cock. He twitches in my hand.

“I-you-“ he gulps again. His wide eyes looking directly into mine. “Y/n, this is hotter than any porno I’ve ever seen,” he admits whole heartedly, through muffled words as my hand squeezes his cheeks together a bit, earning a genuine laugh out of me.

“Well luckily for you,” I grab his length firmly, beginning to pump him slowly. “You won’t have to rent those stupid films anymore, not with me around,” I smirk before I bring him into a kiss, wrapping one hand in the back of his head. To my surprise, he kisses back intensely. His hands shoot up, grabbing both sides of my face to pull my head closer to his. He kisses me with strong desire.

“You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he groans into the kiss. I lift my hips up, not breaking the passionate kiss, using my hand to line him up with my dripping entrance.

“Of course, I do, Peter,” I whisper before setting down on his desperate cock, taking him all the way into me in one swift motion. He lets out a loud whimper- almost a shriek. “Shhh” I giggle against his lips, stifling my own moan.

“I’m sorry,” he whines. He peers into my eyes with his chest heaving, sweat covering every inch of his toned body while his shaky hands hold their death grip on my hips. I place my hands behind me onto his thighs so I can slowly slide myself up down on his length.

“It’s okay Peter, but you gotta keep it down a bit. Can you do that for me, baby?” I coo. He nods his head as he watches in awe as I fuck myself on him, unable to look away. He fills me up perfectly, his desperate cock sliding in out of my velvet walls earns a few low moans out of me. ”You’re so big, Peter,” I compliment, he smiles at me flashing his dimples. With a surge of confidence, he brings his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them to my clit, tracing figure eights, watching my face for approval. “Mmm, that feels good, baby. Good job,” I praise him. He moves his fingers faster, and faster, and faster to the point that his hand is just a blur. ”Fuck!” I accidentally shout from the vibrations coursing through my body.

“Shhh,” he smirks. “You gotta keep it down, remember?” he mocks me. I can’t help but laugh, his sudden confidence is a bigger turn on than I thought it would be. He moves his hand from my core- much to my disappointment- before he grabs my hips again.

“May I?” he asks politely, his voice small again as he thrusts into me, wanting to take a bit of control. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Mhm,” I grant him permission. “Only since you’ve listened so well,” I smirk. As soon as I give him the okay, he’s pounding into me mercilessly.

“Peter!” I shout in surprise and pleasure as he thrusts into me at inhuman rates. The speedster doesn’t seem to hear me as he throws his head back in pleasure.

“Thank you,” he whimpers. “You feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he whines, still somehow sounding submissive even when I’ve given him control. I quickly feel my release nearing as I grip onto his shoulders to keep him from bucking me off. I’ve never been so worked up in my life, my body feels like it’s on fire as I watch the handsome boys hips blur underneath me.

“Peter, I’m close,” I moan, my words come out punctuated as if I’m in a vehicle that’s driving 100mph down a pothole filled gravel road. His head shoots up at my words.

“Please y/n,” he whimpers as I bring my lips to his. “Please I wanna feel you cum while I’m inside you, please,” he whines and begs like a starving puppy, sending me over the edge. Pleasure shoots from my vibrating core throughout my whole body as a string of moans and curses fall from my lips. “Thank you,” I hear him mewl as I chase the euphoria I’m feeling.

‘Did he just thank me, for cumming on him?’ I think to myself. This man knows exactly how to get me worked up, and I don’t even think he realizes it. Suddenly, with a fwp I’ve lost all contact with him as I’m sat beside him on the couch. His eyes hungrily explore my body while he continues to pump himself as whimpers and groans fall from his lips, his dick is visibly twitching.

‘oh’ my confusion subsides once I realized he was about to cum himself. I regain my position on my knees between his legs, watching his face as I take him into my mouth. I consider ruining his orgasm again, but before I can make up my mind, his eyes are scrunched shut and his nose is wrinkled in pleasure as the hottest, most pathetic whimper I’ve ever heard fall from his swollen lips like music to my ears.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he groans as he empties his seed onto my tongue. I swallow the huge load, kitten licking his slit and hollowing out my cheeks a few more times for good measure. He falls onto the couch, lifeless. His chest heaving, the muscles in his legs twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Peter?” I ask, slightly concerned. “Peter?” I ask again a but louder, slapping his leg as I stand from the ground, sitting next to him.

“I…” he slowly turns his head next to me. I can almost see his heart beating out of his chest. “I think you just changed me as a man,” he pants. I laugh at his revelation, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Well I’m honored to be the one to do it,” I smile. He slowly sits up, holding his head as if he’s dizzy.

“I’m fucking starving,” he sighs. I stand up, starting to get dressed.

“Well, clean up real quick and we can go get some food after I check on my brother,” I smile. His eyes light up at the mention of food. He stands, taking a step then stopping, looking at me confused. He takes another step, stopping.

“You broke me, I can’t even zoom across the room,” he looks mortified. I giggle putting my hand on his shoulder.

“It will come back soon, give your body time to catch up,” I slip my skirt on, without my panties. “At least I know your weakness now,” I giggle.

“A dominant woman?” he smiles as he slips on his shirt.

“My used panties,” I smirk, motioning to the white fabric sticking out of his bedside drawer. His eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry you can ha-“ I cut him off.

“Keep ‘em. I think you earned it,” I wink. He looks away with blushed cheeks before dressing his bottom half.

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marauderverse · 4 months

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With Love// F.W x Reader (1)

Summary: Y/n Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive hates her life. That was, of course, until the summer before grade 9, after an oddly charming redhead and his brothers helped her cousin escape. it was probably a good thing he forgot to return that key.

word count: 1.3k

Y/n Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive hates her life.

The first born daughter of Vernon and Petunia, who were more than disappointed to find their first child was a girl, overshadowed by her joke of a younger brother, and ignored by her parents.

Well ignored was not quite the right word.

They often pretended she didn’t exist, except when it benefited them to have an older daughter.

Though she knows she shouldn’t be ungrateful for her situation, her cousin Harry had it much worse.

She was only three when he had showed up on their doorstep, she doesn't remember much but she does remember her mother palming off a lot of her responsibilities onto her.

At the time she had thought it was great fun, feeding him his milk and nursing him to sleep. It was like she had her own living doll.

As she grew older, though, the responsibilities grew greater.

By the time she was seven she was making sure Harry was up and ready for school, lunch packed and everything.

By the time she was ten she was signing his school forms, she had always been rather handy with pens.

She remembers the summer that her cousin Harry turned 11, she had saved up what little money she had managed to scrounge together from the paper route she had started two months earlier and gone out and gotten him his very own watch.

It wasn’t a lot, nothing fancy like the watch Dudley had gotten. But it was nice enough, with a simple leather band and silver accents on the face.

She remembers how he had received that letter only a week before and how her mother and father had done their best to keep Harry from reading those letters. How she had tried her hardest to get him those letters.

They were carted across England (just about) and forced to sleep on the floor. She had given Harry the less lumpy space on the floor and had resigned herself to a sleepless night.

That had obviously been before Hagrid had kicked down that door and completely changed the whole course of their lives.

Before she knew it Harry was being whisked away to some school to learn how to be a wizard and she was stuck at home with her parents who would have rather she didn’t exist and a brother she didn’t care for.

She was more than ecstatic when Harry had arrived home for the summer.

The very first-time y/n had ever formally met Fred Weasley was the summer before year 9.

She had woken up to an odd rumbling sound coming from the room across from hers. She had been worried about Harry above all. She had watched as her father fastened bars on his window and a cat flapped on his door after that horrendous disaster of a dinner party.

She had been staring at the heavy lock on his door, silently debating whether now was a good time to try her hand at lock picking when the door swung open.

She stood there, like a deer in headlights, staring at the boy in front of her. Evidently, he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“If you say anything, I’ll curse you,” He said suddenly, pulling what she assumed was his want out of his pocket and waving it in front of her face.

She knew exactly what he was doing or, more, what he was attempting to do.

She lifted her hand to swat the stick out of her face, and an unamused glare crossed her features.

“First of all, I'm more frightened by the fact that there are strangers in my house than your little magic stick, and secondly, I know you’re not allowed to do magic outside of school, so you can drop the act,” she looked past the boy in front of her and over to Harry, who was talking with another boy who looked exactly like the one in front of her.

The room was silent for a moment; Harry was the first to break the silence.

“Y/n, these are my friends; they’ve come to take me to their place,” He explained.

“Yeah, and if you try to stop us, we will curse you, even if we aren't allowed to do magic outside of school,” said the boy before her.

She trained her focus back to him, eyes narrowed and annoyance evident on her face.

“Do you think that if I wanted to stop you from taking Harry, I would still be standing here?” she asked.

The boy thought for a moment.

“I suppose not,” he said, finally putting his wand back into his pocket.

“Fred and George were going to get my broom and stuff from the cupboard,” He explained.

“Do they need the key?” She asked.

“Key?” The one in front of her asked.

“A small, shaped piece of metal with cuts that fit into a lock and, when rotated can open or close it,” she explained, speaking slowly as if explaining the concept to a young child (or her brother).

It was the boy before her turn to glare.

“I know what a key is,” He said.

“Then do you need one?” she asked.

“I suppose a key would be helpful,” He said quietly.

“Great, follow me. And be quiet,” She said, beckoning him to follow her.

She leads him down the hall, down the steps and into the kitchen.

She quietly picked up a chair and placed it in front of the stove before carefully climbing atop it to retrieve the small key from on top of the cabinet above the vent.

“Here,” She whispered, handing the boy the key. “It’s just the cupboard under the steps we just came down,” She explained.

He nodded, disappearing back the way they came. She stepped off the chair and put it back before making her way to the cupboard.

“Do you need help?” She asked, watching as he grabbed what was left of Harry’s school supplies.

“No, I thought there would be more,” He explained, holding the loose parchment, quills and ink in one hand and balancing the broom over his other shoulder.

“Well, the rest of it’s already in his room,” She shrugged.

“I thought Harry said you guys looked all of his school stuff away,”

y/n bristled at the insinuation that she, too, had been a part of this.

“That’s just my parents; I’ve been intermittently giving him his stuff back,” She explained.

“Really?” He asked, “why?”

“What do you mean why?” She snapped.

“I mean, harry always talks about how horrible you muggles are to him,”

“Correction,” She said, “He talks about how horrible mum, dad and Dudley are,” said.

Then she paused.

“Do you even know my name?” She asked.

“No, but do you know my name?” He shot back.

“Well, I know your name is either Fred or George, and I also know your last name is Weasley,” She said.

“Well, I know your last name is Dursley,” he replied, “And I’m Fred, by the way,”

“Well, Fred, my name is Y/n,” She said.

She followed Fred into Harry's room.

“Okay,” She said, stopping to stand before her cousin, “Be safe, have fun and don’t forget to write to me. It’s like the only thing that keeps me sane in this fucking house.” She said,

“I promise,” He said, smiling widely at her.

She pulled him in for a tight hug before letting him step into the flying ford Anglia (which she had decided to think about later).

“Don’t kill my cousin, or I’ll kill you,” She said to the boy behind the wheel.

She waved goodbye as they flew off.

Her parents didn’t seem to notice the absence of Harry, and if they did, they were actively ignoring it.

She received her first letter a day and a half later.

Dear Y/n,

Hey there! So, I've got to confess... I kind of forgot to give you back your key after rescuing Harry from your place. I know, I know, not my finest moment. Anyway, sorry about that! Hope you're not too mad.

Cheers,

Fred

P.s we didn’t kill your cousin. He’s fine.

enclosed the key she had given to him.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine

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stxrbby · 9 months

Text

Part 2: 42! Miles x y2k reader

Warning: nothing (not proof read at all!) it’s 12pm and I have so much school work to do rn (im deadass about to get kicked out)

Word count: 460

It was 2.42am when your phone rang. Not your regular phone your flip phone. As soon as you gained awareness you jump out of bed walking up to your burner? Why would your plug be calling you at this time?

“Hey Andrew you got my stuff?” You rubbed your eyes putting in a pink robe with the phone in your hand.”come outside. Use the fire escape” a low automated voice spike through the phone you looked at the number

“My man’s”

“Who is this” you looked suspiciously at the phone

“I’m giving you 2 minutes come outside” the voice hung up leaving you alone with your questions.

Following what the voice said you snuck out of the dorm using the fire escape.

“You’re late. 4 minutes.” You turned around seeing Miles. His puffer jacket and jordans made you chuckle to yourself.

“Since when was you my mans?” You answer reluctantly

“Who’s Andrew?” He completely ignored your question staring at you blankly for the answer?

“None of your business…why did you call me out here in the first place?”

“responde mi pregunta cariño (answer my question sweetheart” he completely ignored you again and you were growing quiet tired of his shenanigans

“Miles answer my questions you woke me up at 3 in the morning almost broke my nails getting down here and now you wanna ignore all my questions?”

“I don’t answer questions Querida (darling) I just wanted to see you”

He pulled closer to you lightly grabbing your chin and looking at you but his eyes adverted to the back of you at the wall from time to time

“Your more different without your makeup” he stares at you for time and smiles

That smile that makes your knees weak that makes your heart skip a light beat and you knew…even if for a second that he felt the same way

But as he lowered his guard for a second the next second it was back up again with him pushing you away placing your real phone in your hand

“Now you have me on both your phones” he turned away walking into a dark alleyway. Sighing to yourself you climb up into your bedroom felling in your pocket you notice that your flip phone that you double checked was there when you left was gone and there was one possible suspect

Y/n: Miles where is my flip phone?!

My man: it’s with me until you answer my questions mami

Y/n: Miles! You’re not funny come back with my phone now!

Y/n: MILES

Y/n: MILES GONZALO MORALES YOU ARE NIT FUNNY!

My mans: night mami

Y/n:Miles istg I’m cutting your braids off if you don’t pick up the phone

1 missed call

Y/n: I’m going to kill you

Seen

#atsv x reader #miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #night prowler #y2kcore #stxrbby #miles morales prowler #y/n #atsv x you #atsv prowler #ATSV #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler x reader #prowler miles

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months

Text

Dumbledore is a Manipulative Piece of Shit: Part 4/?

(part 1, part 2, part 3)

He knew and allowed Harry's abuse

Well, this is a pleasant subject, isn't it? Harry's abuse at the Dursleys' hands. And the worst part about it is that no adult in his life really seems to care.

I'll talk about the Weasley parents in a different post. This one is dedicated to Dumbledore and how he always knew about Harry's abuse and allowed it to persist. For years. Not just once, Harry started Hogwarts. No, I think Dumbledore knew what was going on at Number 4 Privet Drive long before Harry stepped foot in Diagon Alley.

And more importantly, I can prove it.

So, I'll cover my evidence according to the order of the quotes that appear in the books since there is quite a bit to cover.

And yes, I know Dumbledore calls the Dursleys out in Half-Blood Prince:

“You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you.”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 55)

But this scene is the definition of "too little, too late" considering how long this has been going on.

So, let's start:

“Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. ‘course, he shoulda sacked me instead — anyway, got yeh this.…” It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father. “Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos… knew yeh didn’ have any…d’yeh like it?”

(Philosopher's Stone, page 218)

Hagrid can't keep a secret to save his life, we know that, and he isnt the brightest, with all his good intentions. Yet, even he noticed something's wrong with Harry's home. He knows Harry doesn't have photos of his parents, he knows he never got any gifts.

"But that's not Dumbledore,"

True, but Hagrid tells Dumbledore everything. So if Hagrid knows, Dumbledore knows.

“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.”

(Chamber of Secrets, page 31)

“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(Chamber of Secrets, page 39)

Both these quotes from Chamber of Secrets show Fred, George, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley clearly knew what was happening. That Harry was being locked up and starved.

Harry really, never kept his abuse a secret and is quite open about informing anyone who'd listen to him about it. He is just used to it being brushed off as something unfortunate that nothing can be done about. The Weasleys, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Remus, and the entire Order of the Phoenix treat it as such.

In OOP, Harry references needing to duck from Vernon's beatings as a joke to Ron and Hermione. He wasn't keeping it a secret.

On the same vane:

She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help … Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadn’t touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrid’s cooking.) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a Squib?” Harry asked Mrs. Figg, panting with the effort to keep walking. “All those times I came round your house — why didn’t you say anything?” “Dumbledore’s orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I’m sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they’d thought you enjoyed it. It wasn’t easy, you know. . . . But oh my word,”

(Goblet of Fire, page 28)

Harry wrote everyone he knew he was being starved. He wrote Hagrid and the Weasleys, and they all sent him food. The adults sent him food without bothering to ask him the important question: "Why aren't you being fed?"

(Order of the Pheonix, page 22)

This is the most damning evidence against Dumbledore.

He knew. He knew how Harry was treated his entire childhood because he had someone spy on him for years.

Mrs. Figg knew how Harry was treated by the Dursleys. She calls it: "miserable". She knew.

And she was sent there on Dumbledore's orders, meaning she was a spy. because let's be real, a squib, who can't do magic and doesn't own a gun can't do anything to protect Harry. She can only be there to spy. To report everything to Dumbledore.

This proves, more than any other quote here, how okay Dumbledore is with Harry suffering at the hands of the Dursleys.

Next moment he jumped as the lock gave a loud click and his door swung open. Harry stood motionless, staring through the open door at the dark upstairs landing, straining his ears for further sounds, but none came. He hesitated for a moment and then moved swiftly and silently out of his room to the head of the stairs. His heart shot upward into his throat. There were people standing in the shadowy hall below, silhouetted against the streetlight glowing through the glass door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as he could see, looking up at him.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 46)

The entire Order was there, at Number 4, Privet Drive. They've been following Harry since he got there. Tonks has seen Harry's bedroom. I don't think they missed something is definitely wrong. (I think this is why they tell the Dursleys off at the end of the fifth book and Dumbledore again in the sixth because someone else finally knew and Dumbledore had no choice but to address it)

And to make sure the Order is aware something's wrong between him and the Dursleys (that being an understatement), Harry outright tells Lupin:

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 54)

Harry makes it very clear the Dursleys don't care for his safety and that he never wants to return to literally everyone he can.

Why then? Why would Dumbledore want Harry abused?

“She’s evil,” said Harry flatly. “Twisted.” “She’s horrible, yes, but . . . Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt.” It was the second time in two days he had been advised to go to Dumbledore and his answer to Hermione was just the same as his answer to Ron. “I’m not bothering him with this. Like you just said, it’s not a big deal. It’s been hurting on and off all summer — it was just a bit worse tonight, that’s all —” “Harry, I’m sure Dumbledore would want to be bothered by this —” “Yeah,” said Harry, before he could stop himself, “that’s the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn’t it, my scar?” “Don’t say that, it’s not true!”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 277)

Harry said it best here: "for his scar"

In the previous posts, I covered how desperate Dumbledore was at the end of the war for a win, so much so, he might've forged a prophecy. And I explained he needed Sirius Black out of the picture for the same reason he wanted Harry at the Dursleys and wanted him mistreated — confident boys with a good support network and emotional regulation don't make very good martyrs.

In part 2, I mentioned how Dumbledore knew since the night the Potters died that Harry is likely a Horcrux. He has been manipulating Harry's life since then to achieve his grand plan of killing Voldemort. Even if it comes at the price of Harry having anything resembling a childhood and a life.

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oleander-nin · 8 months

Text

The Weight of a Letter(10)

A/N: I'm so sorry this one's so short. I'll make the next chapter upwards of 3000 words as consolation. Thank you dearly to @faetaiity and @astral--horrorshow for beta reading. I'm brain dead and can't look at this any more or I'll explode. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger @whygz @lexiechr@10yagurlchip01 @rex-ray @sunsersilversky @theavianlady

Part 1 - Previous - Next

Words: 900

Content warnings: not much, dark themes, yan themes

Chapter 10: A Hidden Fracture

I carefully close the door to the guest room, shuffling over to the bed. I glance at the door, biting my lip. I couldn’t imagine how Irma would react to my phone suddenly being back. As far as she knew, I gave it to a normal human kid who would drop it off in person, not toss it on the fire escape. I needed to make up an excuse.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll say they dropped it off at school? No, that wouldn’t work. Irma’s with me most of the day. Maybe I’ll just say I ran into them at some point. I didn’t need to worry about an excuse until tomorrow anyway. I have all night to come up with one. I lay on my stomach as I plop onto the bed, holding my phone in front of me. I power it on, watching the phone slowly come back to life. It was like brand new.

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief when the company screen passed and my familiar wallpaper shone bright in the dim light of the room. My phone was fixed. Donatello actually fixed my phone. I hold my hand over my mouth, biting back a squeal of delight. For once in the months of paranoia and torment, something was truly going right. Even the letters, which I admit I had gotten emotionally dependent on, weren’t as exciting as they used to be. Especially with everything happening. Irma’s theories were convincing, sure, but it still didn’t make sense. I shake the thoughts of the letters out of my head. Maybe Donatello and his brothers were the friends I needed. I hope I can introduce them to Irma soon.

My eyes drift over to the vase on the nightstand. I had moved it to stay here with me in the days I’ve spent with Irma. I tap the side of my still locked phone, contemplating. Technically, the police cleared my apartment and it was safe to move back in. But did I trust them? What if they missed something important? What if my apartment got broken into again?

What if they were already there, waiting for me to return?

I shudder, trying to shake off the thoughts that had dug their claws into my brain. I couldn’t go back. Not yet. I quickly reopen my phone, pulling up different articles on locks and security systems. If I was going to move back in anytime soon, I needed to be safe. They wouldn’t be getting away this easily. My eyes skim the words on the page as I read comparisons for different locks. I chew on my lip, barely noticing the sharp sting or the sudden taste of copper.

A sudden buzz from the device in my hands accompanied by a small pop up notification startles me out of my thoughts. I stare at the alert for a moment before pressing on the notification to view it in full. I just received a text from Donatello. The name stands proud at the top of the messaging screen, a bright purple and magenta D logo set as his profile. I’m a bit surprised to see it, but shrug. It makes sense he added his number, he was the one to fix my phone anyway. My eyes drop to read his message, wondering what it contains. I needed to thank him for my phone anyway, might as well do it now.

Donatello: Is your phone treating you well? I mean, of course it is, I fixed it.

I snicker at the text, rolling my eyes. Sure, the happenstance meeting on the fire escape was a bit weird, but Donatello and his brothers were endearing in an odd way. Especially Donatello’s small quips and ego. It was entertaining.

I send a quick confirmation of my happiness with the phone, as well as a thank you. I don’t want him to think I was rude. If all goes well, we can be good friends. I close the message thread before looking through my phone to see if he added or changed anything else. My settings are still the same, as are all my previous apps and conversations. The only thing he added was his and his brothers number, four small little contacts added to my already small list.

I open up Mikey’s contact, my thumbs hovering over the keys. He was the one who seemed most excited to see me, so he would be my best bet in making plans. Hopefully.

I send him a quick text, hoping he’d see it soon. A few moments pass and I grin as my phone lets off another quiet buzz. I watch Mikey’s ecstatic messages roll in, my mood improving even more. It was nice to talk to him, considering what seemed to be the oldest brother insisted they leave so soon yesterday.

I feel a warm buzz in my chest as he invites me to dinner the next day, each text of his more bold and ecstatic than the last. I chew on my lip, wondering how I’d tell Irma. She knew I didn’t have any other friends. Maybe I can tell her this was how I was picking up my phone. Yeah, that was a good idea.

I send back a short text, accepting his invitation to dinner. I couldn’t wait, he claimed to be quite the master chef after all.

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clarks-letterman · 2 years

Note

Okay but like…Bully!Male reader falling for Nerdy!Pete…and like things escalate once you have detention and have to clean the tables of your class and The sexual tension is sky rocketing so much so Pete has to use his hands to hush you incase someone heard the…commotion 😭

I'M LOVING EVERY WORD!! ...let's get this written >:D

a/n — thanks for requesting this and i tried to work it in the best i could!

summary — check the request above! it's basically 1 to 1

warnings — smut! top!peter parker and bottom!reader, creampies, anal sex

words — 3.8k (i think my longest fic so far)

~~~

The end of the school day had finally arrived; for most, it was a joyous celebration as it marked the start of the two days between this grueling week and the next one to follow, but for two individuals, that end was just the beginning of their time in detention.

"Back again, huh? I guess you missed me," Peter spoke, having only just set his bag on the side of his desk as he leaned up to see you taking a seat at the desk next to his. Immediately, he took a hand to his hair, toying with it to look a bit better before the conversation was set in motion.

You were quick to respond with a bite to your words, "Shut up, Parker. Why are you even here? Fall asleep from staying up too late again?"

Peter—unperturbed by your sudden outlash towards him—leaned forward on the oak surface of his desk and explained how he had ended up with a slip for detention, "That's a really weird guess, but, no, riding my board in the halls. It actually made a bunch of marks this time on the floor—"

"I, actually, don't care," You fulminated to the other boy. Sure, it was inconsistent—considering that you had asked him how he landed in detention—but a few days ago, you stumbled into a web of emotional entanglement after a shocking realization that seemed impossible to escape; you liked Peter Parker.

At first, it was a hard pill to swallow, a pill so confusing that you couldn't even name what was in it; it was simply an imbalanced mix of every emotion packed into something that no ordinary medicine would ever make you feel. Ironically, it never made you feel better. It only caused you to feel sick to your stomach whenever you saw Peter.

You thought it was a desire to befriend him that left you feeling that way after every interaction. Maybe after all those years of being under Flash's coercion to bully the poor guy for laughs, you had realized what you actually wanted to see—you wanted to see him by your side, walking down the hall with you. The lockers that you used to cheer Flash on for shoving him into would salute the two of you as the ringleader of bullies himself would be stuffed away into one, with no one to help him.

But the more you thought about Peter, the more you wanted him. There were times in class when you would look at him, and time would stop. It felt like you could analyze every detail on his face in just a single glance but still have so much more to see behind it. Your eyes grew to know the path of his features, where certain things turned into an abrupt dead-end only to bleed into the surrounding, insanely alluring attributes. And as your feelings grew for the nerd, so did the number of times you thought about him and how perfect he was.

Hell, you were doing it now during your talk with him, watching how he sported a smirk across his face, eyes scornfully slit with a glare to combat your rude words carelessly tossed at him. His comeback to it came out a bit stilted once he deduced that your eyes lingered on him, "Well—," he cleared his throat, "—well, thinking about riding over your face helped give the extra push my board needed. Thanks, man."

"Of course," You mused, feigning compassion for the other boy. At this point, you realized that the classroom was empty apart from you and Peter. Though, in just a few moments of silence, the door opened. A faculty member entered the classroom, the handles of two buckets hung from his grip, janitorial supplies teeming over the brim from both.

He walked to the small margin of space given by the two desks you and Peter sat at, placing one plastic pail on each desk, "Alright, Mr.Parker and Mr.(L/n). I've decided to give the both of you a punishment that I think fits well—you'll be cleaning all the desks in this room, along with a few other areas around here, too."

The teacher strode to the chalkboard at the head of the classroom, turning away from the both of you to write the areas you had to clean on the black surface. Over the loud squeak of chalk marking the solid surface and the teacher's radio cutting through with intermittent static, Peter leaned towards you, asking his own question, "Why are you here?"

"Drawing on the desks," You replied hushedly. Unfortunately, it was loud enough for the teacher to hear you talk.

"Gentlemen! I don't want to have to remind you—no less than five minutes into the class—that this is detention and not a place for—," The teacher's receiver went off, signaling that he was needed on the other side of the school. He huffed at the request and carried himself to the door, "Get to work you two, I'll be back in a little to check your progress."

You shot to your feet, standing over the bucket on your desk. Inside the pail, there were bottles of various cleansing sprays for all kinds of surfaces, a couple pairs of rubber gloves, and a few large sponges.

"Let's get this done," You stated, picking out a random bottle from the bucket and slipping on the elastic gloves with ease. Peter did the same, muttering some snarky comment under his breath that you couldn't hear.

To you and Peter's surprise, cleaning the surfaces of each desk and the chalkboards integrated into the walls turned out to be a cakewalk. You neared the last row of desks in the back of the room—where you and Peter sat—while Peter worked on cleaning a blackboard at the front of the room. Cleaning your way down the line of desks, you got to your own seat, squeezing the bottle handle as it squeaked out a few spritzes of the cleanser inside onto the wooden surface.

With the sponge in your other hand, you wiped the mixture around the desk until no dry areas remained. Peter's desk was the last one you would have to clean, and then you were done with your part of the room. You rounded your desk and moved to Peter's, following the same pattern as how you had cleaned the rest of the desks. Then, you noticed to the side of his desk sat his bag, beaten and marked up from the dirt and whatever else was on it. You laughed to yourself, thinking that this could be an easy way to mess with the other boy. You tugged at the zipper as you checked to ensure Peter wasn't looking.

On the other side of the room, Peter stood on the tips of his toes, his sneakers showing heavy creases as he tried to reach a bit of writing at the very top of the blackboard. As a result, his shirt had lifted to reveal a bit of his torso. If your jaw wasn't saved by the mercy of your mandible, it would have dropped to the floor at the sight of him. Instead, your heart plummeted to your stomach, and that feeling you had for Peter came rushing back. Your mind immediately gravitated to a myriad of thoughts dirtier than a New York alley—ones that involved Peter, on his back, with ropes of glossy white coating his abdomen.

To block those feelings and thoughts out, you turned back to his bag, hoping that messing around with him would untangle the Gordian knot in your stomach. You started pulling at the zipper again, doing it softly so that Peter wouldn't hear it. You let the small, metallic rectangle dangle on the other side of his bag once you towed it along its path, parting the pieces of fabric to reveal the inside.

Your hand went for the first thing inside the backpack, a pile of some fabric that you assumed to be an extra pair of underwear given the material. It would be a perfect way to embarrass Peter, especially since it was probably something nerdy like Spider-Man boxers—or even worse, Star Wars boxers. You slowly pulled it out of his bag, careful not to make any noise as you did.

You immediately recognized what it was, your hands running over it frantically to try and confirm that it was fake, but it was Spider-Man's mask, complete with a matching suit sitting just under it in his bag. There was no way that this wasn't genuine.

But that would mean that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. The nerd who looked like a breeze could carry him away was fighting criminals at night.

“Holy shit,” You muttered at the newfound revelation, but it was loud enough to pull Peter’s attention over to you. He had finally noticed what you were doing and dropped the eraser in his hands.

"Hey, put that back!" Peter yelled, rushing towards you with a concerned expression. You did what he said and frantically dropped it back into his bag, spewing out mindless apologies to him.

He cut you off as one of his hands cupped your mouth, his other landing on your chest to push you back against the nearest wall, "(Y/n), I need you to be honest with me. Are you going to tell anyone?"

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head. While you were surprised that Peter was Spider-Man, your mind had flown from that fact to how close Peter was to you. He had never gotten this close or this physical with you, so this contact brought a rising heat to your face as the crotch of your pants felt more restrictive than before. The smell of him poured out to you without him doing much of anything, and

His impossibly powerful grip didn't lessen; he was still unsure of whether or not he could trust you. After all, you were a bully to him and others alike, so trust wasn't something established in your relationship with him. But, the longer he held onto you, the more your attraction to him became noticeable. On his end, he could hear your heart beating faster and faster with each passing second, while you figured he was going to spot the growing tent you sported.

Peter would be lying if your proximity to one another didn't entice him too, as it distracted him from thinking straight about you knowing his secret identity. Outside of your adverse interactions, Peter cherished the moments where you two seemed to bond over something, whether you were asking him for help with the homework or quizzing each other on types of chemical equations. All of it made him wish that the social influences of high school hadn't whisked you away towards a life of making poor choices alongside the rest of the bullies stalking the halls.

Even if there wasn't a close connection between the two of you, he planned on closing the distance between you—in more ways than one. He didn't want to be the guy who admired your looks through his computer screen while editing a photo for Midtown; he had always wanted to make you right your wrongs and stand up to Flash one day. Peter wasn't sure how he would do it, but he hoped it was possible. If not for his feelings, he wanted to do it for you. He pondered over the idea of bringing you closer since the ringing of your heartbeat in his ears seemed to say it all.

While Peter's panic seemed to have slowly dissipated into nothing, your's was on the rise. Every humiliating thought worked its way into your mind since Peter was bound to notice your aversely expressed feelings for him. He would have the perfect ammunition to pluck you from your place on the school social ladder and drop you into the void of irrelevancy. Not that you cared much for it, but coming to school after this wouldn't be easy. But, as much as your mind led you to believe in one specific outcome from this whole thing, it took a turn that you didn't see coming.

Peter had let out a relieved sigh, his grip keeping you against the wall loosened. His hand didn't feel like it was about to rip your face off with one quick pull anymore; instead, he moved it to cup your face. His other hand snuck up to your shoulder to pull you away from the wall and into his embrace. This was his chance, and he decided to take it.

Your tense body loosened in line with Peter's hold on you, making it easy to place your arms around him once you were away from the wall. The simmering fear turned into enthrallment at the wonder of where he was taking this. He had brought you close to him—that was the first step—and all he had to do now was close the remaining gap between you and him.

Quickly, Peter bridged the distance between you and him with his lips pressed to yours. At first, it was only a quick peck as Peter pulled back to see your reaction, but you yanked him back onto you with a craving for more before he could even take one look at you. It just felt so easy. Easy enough to guide Peter back to his desk, his back firmly pressed to the tan hardwood surface. Your lips never left the other for even a single icy second, embracing in the warm air hitting each other's skin. It was almost hard and desperate with every repeated press to the other, like a counter for the countless years of denying the truth with anger and pity. You wouldn't be surprised if you pulled away and saw his already full lips look like he had just gotten knocked in the face.

Peter's hands slid down your body, stopping just short of your pants and letting his hands soar up the underside of your shirt, bunching it up as he went. He guided you back and peeled himself away from the desk to strip the shirt from your shoulders and over your head. Peter's shirt landed over yours a few seconds later, and he was pressing your bare back to the stiff plank of wood with metal legs as he returned to crushing your lips with a loving force. His bulge mirrored the action above as it pressed to your trouser-clad thigh.

Inbetween each kiss, he warns that you two will have to be fast through a breathy rasp. He was right—at any moment, a teacher could walk in and see the ungodly sight of the both of you pressed into each other, contaminating one of the desks.

"Okay," You huffed. Peter pulled away from you and turned to rummage through his bag on the floor. He popped his head back up, softly calling out your name to grab your attention as if the half-full bottle of lube in his hand wasn't pulling enough, "Do you want to use lube? I mean I don't know if you prepped or anything."

You sat against the edge of his desk with both hands placed at the two corners behind you for support, "No! I came for school, not sex. Why do you even have that here?"

He stood tall again, towering over you as he moved closer, "It's for the suit. Sometimes swelling from an injury won't go down, so it's useful."

You laughed and pulled him down to you for a quick peck, "I still can't believe your Spider-Man."

"You're lucky I don't have any web-fluid on me," He teased, "But I can't believe I'm really doing this." Peter placed the bottle over on your desk, his hands gravitating to the button and fly of his dark denim pants. Your eyes followed down the funnel-like shape his sex lines provided and watched in anticipation for the tease of his bulge to lose its place to the real thing hitting the classroom air. The whir of his zipper felt like it lasted forever as he parted the woven flaps and bunched the elastic waist of his boxers to let his cock free.

You could have sworn that your mouth fell open as it kept going. Peter was anything but small. The length alone was enough to make you swoon and hit every spot you could ask it to, but the girth was just as impressive. You were sure it could leave your hole gaping for days after this, and you were about to find out.

"Who knew Parker was packing?" You joked, attempting to feign any emotion created by the wave of nervousness stabbing your heart as you doubted your ability to take someone his size.

A smile grew on Peter's face as he took his painfully impressive length into his right hand and grabbed the bottle of lube with his left. He flicked open the cap with ease, giving it a few shakes to force the lube to the top of the bottle as he flipped it over. He casually squirted a thick line of lube over the top of his cock, replying to you while he did it, "I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me, like, ever."

"I'll be even nicer in a few minutes when that's destroying me from the inside-out," You joked, knowing that even with the help of the slick substance, you will probably still be crying to whatever God that sculpted Peter in their image. It was breathtaking to watch Peter's left arm flex with each tug of his equally stunning cock. Your voice softened in defeat at the realization that this was a risk, temporary, and far from the ideal way to be intimate with the nerdy guy, "But, we can't be loud, right?"

"Right," Peter agreed, stepping close to you as he let his stiffening length swing with each step. He kept his slick hand near him as he used the other to pull you onto your back and shuck off your pants and boxers, ass in view for the world to see. He tossed them down to the ever-growing pile of clothes at his feet, using the lube left on his fingers to trace over your hole. You moaned at his cold fingers lightly grazing over your entrance, your head reflexively leaning over the edge of the desk.

After a few moments of teasing your hole, Peter brought both of your feet up and over his shoulders, taking his slicked cock in hand and guiding his cockhead to it. You felt it gently graze over your hole before Peter pressed his hips forward, ushering himself into with a certain eagerness. He had to restrain his urges to turn you into a mess as payback for the years of teasing, especially since your first reaction to him stretching your ass was to let out something between the noises of a moan and cry. Peter was big. Big enough to cause an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

"Hey—hey, you have to be quiet, okay?" He asks. A calloused hand imprinted on your perfect features to cover your mouth. It pained Peter to know that he couldn't hear the beautiful sounds that his size alone would emit, annoyingly muffled by the palm of his hand. Your hole would have to efficiently communicate your pleasure with each spasm and contraction against his cock.

You nodded and felt him slowly press on, stretching your ass with each passing inch. Eventually, Peter bottomed out inside you, and your assumptions about his size rang true; your small ring of pink would be left agape by the end of this. He starts to nudge his way back, putting a hand on your hip for support to pull his own hips away before driving himself deep into you.

Peter repeated himself, and his thrusts quickly increased in strength, growing more painful and pulling louder and louder noises from you, only to be muffled by the palm of his hand. Though, the smacking of skin said enough to make up for your or Peter's lack of words at the moment. You vented your pleasure into giving yourself a sloppy handjob. You could barely keep your hand taut enough to jerk your own length with each intense pounding Peter gave. This would have been the perfect moment for 'Spider-Man' to have eight arms instead of two.

As he went on, Peter moved with great stealth, letting each moan and grunt pass through his teeth to keep quiet. But, his drive to reach a climax is needy and desperate to the point where he huffed out every breath in short bursts.

Your climax came into view faster than the speed Peter embodied. And with just a few light tugs on your own cock, you shot out a few ropes of hot white release. The walls of your ass tightened around Peter's length as you did, sending Peter over his own edge.

"Fuck, fuck," He moaned while pulling out of you, making sure to keep his voice low.

Peter flipped you onto your stomach, keeping a hand on your hip. The heat from your back ruminated on the wooden desk as you gained a new look at the classroom. Everything was in your view aside from Peter, who towered over your pathetic ass as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and tugged himself towards his climax. You could feel his entire arm tremble and stiffen, hearing a loud moan echo through the silent room as the hot sensation of his release hit your lower back and the crack between your two mounds.

If it wasn't enough, a bristling feeling left the hairs on the back of your neck in pointing shock as something broad and wet ran over your perineum and slowly up between your backside. As Peter reached your lower back, he laved your skin with small laps to clean up the ropes of come he sprayed on you. He soaked in the salty and bitter flavor of your skin and his release on his tongue as you poured out a myriad of moans that were euphonic to him. He made sure to get everything and swallow it down before rising to his feet. Once you stopped feeling him messing around with your rear, you turned to see him getting dressed.

"What?" He laughed, "We gotta clean up this mess. You heard the teacher!"

"I can't believe you," You jokingly scoffed for an added effect, bending over to pick up your clothes. Peter snuck in a few glances as he pulled his shirt over his head, "So, can Spider-Man swing by later? Or should he come here tomorrow?"

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year

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Just one shot [Military photographer!Reader x CoD characters] part three

You successfully escaped the hell of the art school — in debt, with nothing but your(shitty) camera, a diploma and disappointed parents who never understood your life choices. Being a part if the military wasn’t your first option, but what else can you do? And at least, people here are fun to work with…

Featured characters: Ghost

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Ah, you're fucked. Utterly and deeply, there is literally nothing you could do about your fate – once you get out of bed, you would have to face the cruel fate of being a person who has to take picture of Ghost. Like, the Ghost.

You doubt that he even wanted to be in the photo album, for fucks sake, even his files don't have photos! And yet, here you are, with nothing but your camera in your hands. Shaky, sticky from sweat, twitching little hands. Feeling like a crushed bug under the boot of some very rude and borderline sadistic kid. You wanted to play it cool, to maybe just wait a little bit so the storm will be finished before you start working. Unfortunately for you, you are literally on a clock and tight schedule. Unfortunately for you, Ghost literally has only one hour of free time. Unfortunately for you, you are going to steal this hour from him. With shaky - relax, for the love of god, he can't legally kill you o this base even if he would try really hard - you are going straight to the massive figure exiting the training area. Soap is looking at you strangely, almost making you step back and readjust everything you knew and loved. Gaz is not here, thankfully, so only one sergeant will be here to witness your inevitable demise. With a quiet sigh, you approached Ghost. And here you thought that being a photographer for the base will save you from the fate of being killed in action. Ghost will fucking kill you and then use your body to taunt all of the other recruits who are dumb enough to approach him next time.

"Sir, I am sorry for disturbing your peace and, quite frankly, I waited long enough for you to finish your training so I will have the opportunity to do my work and this is very important for the base morale and your team, obviously, so, um, what I was saying is..." "What is it, private? You need to speak short, I am not going to wait for ages for you to finish." You are going to die. Good luck, private Victor 6-8, you will never see these numbers be funny. "Sorry, sir. I need to take a photo of you, for the yearbook." "Not gonna happen, private." "But sir, this is important!" "No bloody photos. Ain't got time for this fashion magazine shit." "Sir, please, it's just one fast click! With mask, of course, I am not going to reveal your identity, I understand how important that is and..." "This is final. No." Ah, if you are going to die, at least you can die on your feet, with your weapon - well, your camera - in your hands and no sight of fear in your eyes. Even if you are so fucking terrified right now, that your legs are shakier than adrenaline junkie after a training session with KorTac. You can also just steal his mask and make Soap wear it, no one would ever notice a difference. Or you can be a bit more persuasive and use some of this pretty charm that you most certainly have. You do, right?

"Sir, if you are feeling uncomfortable about the prospect of making a photo, I can...oh, I can give you these sunglasses. What do you think?" He looks at the sunglasses, conveniently sitting on the desk near you. You don't know where they came from and who they belong to, but at this moment, this doesn't matter. You just need to make this photo, then exit to your room and wallow in sadness until the second coming of Christ or any other shit that you have been listening to while picking up a Christian radio station near the base. The devil is already here. And the devil is nodding, putting the sunglasses on. Fucking hell. "One photo. I'm not going to pose, just make it quick." He sounds like a grumpy dad who hates making photos in front of every statue on a vacation he was paying too much for. Or like q edgy teenager who hates his mom for making him pose for a family photo. Well, you are taking what you can and getting in position. Holy shit, this guy could be a model if he would want to. For Hot Topic, at least. You took the photo, now looking at the camera in your hands, trying to see if the lighting in this room was okay and Ghost doesn't look too fucking weird standing here like the Death itself. Although you think that even the Grim Reaper would be easier to convince. "Do you want to take a look, sir?" He is nodding again, leaning closer. He is right behind you now...large hands in skeleton gloves - so fucking edgy, you can't believe this guy - are slowly creeping on your waist, adjusting your position so it would be easier for him to look.

His hands are so big, that they can wrap around your waist with ease. He can squish all of your internal organs and won't even feel a thing, you think. This is terrifying, but then...oh shit, you feel something, growing inside with a rapid speed. You are a lost cause, you know this, right? "Not so hard on the eyes, huh, recruit?" His raspy voice is making something in your skin shiver. Not from fear, unfortunately for your poor soul. You really, really need to listen more closely to this religious radio - maybe, it will help you not act like a blushing mess in front of your superiors. "This is...yes, sir. You are looking quite nice." "Next time, private, tell me about this in advance. Would get a new haircut." Funny. He is looking and sounding like he is going to murder you - and yet, he is joking. Perhaps, you really should watch the dark corners of the base today. Would be pretty sad to die without even finishing the yearbook.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod #cod x you #cod x reader #call of duty #captain price #price x reader #gaz x reader

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cookeybg · 1 month

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Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

So....my chapters seem to be getting longer. I apologize, but I can't stop myself. Here's chapter 3!

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

[In case you missed it Chapter 1 , Chapter 2]

Part 1 - Chapter 3

Jon had been distracted. The morning had started out hectic. First, Conner had taken forever to get ready and they had to run to the subway in order to get to school on time. Then, it had turned out that he had been placed in the wrong math class so he had to go into the school office and have it changed to proper math class, lucky his schedule stayed the same. Even luckier he now got to see Jay twice everyday, not including club activities every Monday. What had really been the cherry on top was when Jay stopped him after class to give his phone number. Lunch had been full of memes and texts and exasperated glances from Kathy. So, Jon was distracted when he stumbled on what felt like a tree root, his phone flying into the air and him landing on his hands and knees on the dirt floor. Miraculously his glasses stayed on his face if not a bit askew.

“Ow.” Someone groaned behind him. “Sorry!” Jon scrambled up and turned around. His wide blue eyes met glaring green ones. “Tt.” Damian tsked removing Jon’s phone from atop his head. “Do you make it a habit to throw your things at others?” “What? No!” Jon reached out snatching his phone back. “It was an accident!” Damian stared at him unimpressed passing him by without further comment. Jon could feel the heat of embarrassment heating his neck and face. He gripped his phone and cursed his decision on taking the short cut to his art class. He took a deep breath and continued on his way, Damian Wayne was long gone.

Walking into his art class Jon sat across the table from Jay, who waved and smiled at Jon when he entered but was now talking to the girl sitting next him. Jon kept his hands busy by pulling out his art pencils and sketch book he had bought the day before on his way home from school. Jon took discreet glances towards Jay wore a light blue hoodie, it made his pink hair standout and it made him look warm and fluffy. Jon wanted to hug him. “Hello everyone!” Ms. Worle clapped her hands, getting the whole class’s attention. “I have great news today! After many attempts, I was finally able to convince my favorite prodigy to become my T.A.” She clapped her hands again, looking at the door, her white curly hair bouncing in excitement. A loud chatter filled the classroom when Damian Wayne stepped through the door. He glanced around the room, his green gaze locked onto Jon’s blue. The embarrassment from early crawled up Jon’s neck and he quickly looked away. Damian, clearly deciding to pay him no further attention looked back at Ms. Worle, his expression softening. “Ms. Worle, I wouldn’t call myself a prodigy.” Damian said. “Nonsense, please humor this old lady.” Ms. Worle waved away Damian’s words. “You are certainly not old.” Jon wanted to gag, all Damian had to do was kiss the back of the teacher’s hand and the whole charade would be complete. Jon noticed that Jay sat up in interest a small “No way,” escaping his mouth. Jon bit his lip not liking the attention Jay was giving the Wayne. Jay’s sparkling eyes locked unto Jon a wide excited smile graced his face. Jon could feel heat burning his ears, Jay had such a cute smile.

“Jon!” Jay whispered excitedly, leaning forward as far as he could and covering the side of his mouth in an attempt at secrecy. “This is huge! Damian is going to our T.A.!” “I don’t see the big deal…” Jon frowned. Jay looked at him in surprised, he opened his mouth to say something else but Ms. Worle cut him off. “Now, Now, let’s all settle.” Ms. Worle’s face was slightly flushed. “You will be sketching the person sitting across from you and Damian will be assisting all those who need help.” “Try not to make my forehead too big.” Jay teased. “Try not to make my ears too big and we have a deal.” Laughed Jon. It was hard drawing Jay. Every time he looked up at him his heart would race and sometimes their eyes would meet and the butterflies in Jon’s stomach would take flight. It was distracting and difficult to not let his day dreams wander. It didn’t help that Jon wasn’t a very good artist to begin with and kept erasing the same eye he had been trying to draw for the last eight minutes. “Tt.” Jon’s shoulders tensed. When he turned, his nose nearly collided with a brown jaw. He took in a breath of surprise and caught a whiff of something sweet and earthy. Damian’s eyes locked onto his and Jon pulled away slightly, heart pounding in his chest. “May I?” Damian glanced at Jon’s hand. Jon nodded stiffly and watched as Damian’s elegant fingers plucked the pencil out of Jon’s grip, his fingers lightly grazing his. “You need guide lines on the face if you want to make everything symmetrical.” Damian spoke lowly. Jon had to lean in a bit to hear him clearly due to his loud classmates. Jon watched as Damian lightly drew a couple of horizontal lines and a vertical line down the middle. He then started drawing the outline for the second eye. “Drawing is just a series of shapes. Look at Jay’s eyes,” Damian gestured towards Jay and Jon could see that Jay was keenly paying attention to the both of them, “draw a circle for the iris and then fill in the detail like the curve of his eyelid and notice the delicate sweep of his brow.” Damian’s eyes were intense as he pointed out aspects of Jay’s face. Jay fidgeted but did not look away a blush darkened his cheeks and his lips were parted in awe. Jon gripped the table trying not to show any jealousy. “Nothing is a straight line; his soft wavy hair, his lips and the curve of his chin.” Damian paused waiting for Jon’s understanding. “Thanks.” Jon said sulkily. Damian placed the pencil on the sketchbook and moved on. Jon’s back and side prickled uncomfortably in Damian’s absence. Damian helped a couple of girls, they turned red and chattered amongst themselves after he left them. But Jon was paying attention to them, he watched Jay stare after Damian his face slightly red and his gaze determined. Did Jay like that jerk? Was Jon going to lose Jay to Damian? Jon grimaced and looked down at his sketch. Damian’s pencil marks looked light and easily erased. The parts he had drawn as guides looked better than the dark lines Jon had drawn and markedly improved the sketch itself. He sighed and did his best to follow what he had been taught.

After class Jay sidled next to Jon looking behind them at Damian who was speaking with Ms. Worle. He nudged Jon’s shoulder with his own as they left the classroom and Jon got butterflies in his tummy from Jay’s proximity. “You are so lucky that Damian helped you!” Jay tried to whisper but failed. “Yeah, I guess.” Jon tried not to roll his eyes. “He must be pretty good at drawing.” “Pretty good at-“ Jay laughed. “Jon. Damian has won awards for his art.” “So, he’s like actually talented?” Jon asked. Jay stared at him and stopped to type something on his phone. Once he found what he was looking for he showed Jon an article from the Gotham Gazette complete with a picture of a painting. Jay clicked on the picture so that Jon could see it zoomed in. “He won this prestigious art award last year and donated the winnings to charity, since you know, he doesn’t need the money.” Jon took the phone and looked at the painting. It displayed a desert oasis, the palm trees swaying in the breeze seemed to come to life. The sand colored buildings contrasted beautifully with a bright blue sky and green vegetation. In the distance a storm brewed making the birds take flight. The ground closer to the buildings was slightly tinted in a rust colored red. It was beautiful but it somehow made Jon feel as if danger was just around the corner despite the tranquility of the scene. The plaque next to the painting said it was an oil on canvas, titled “Home.” “But, he’s the baseball captain.” Jon said dumfounded. “He’s also been winning art awards since he was a kid. He’s won so many he’s probably lost count.” “How can he be good at so many things? Isn’t he the top of his grade?” “It’s awful, isn’t it?” Jay said smirking. “I can’t wait to interview him!” Jon watched as Jay waved and left him behind. What if his fears were true? If Jay didn’t like Damian now he certainly would after he interviewed him. Kathy was right, Jon needed to confess, ASAP!

I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter is going to be my favorite so I hope you're as excited as I am. XD

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #damian and jon #jondami #high school au #no capes au #supersons #fanfic #fanfiction #first time writing #be gentle #hope you enjoy

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direwolfrules · 1 month

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You see, now I’m hyper-fixated on G1 Monster High and Ever After High, mostly Ever After High, so now I want to start a rewrite AU thing of my own and use the disappearance of Hexiciah Steam’s team as a catalyst for the crossover. Like, the Evil Queen returning is Act 2 or 3 of the crossover, secret final boss type thing. Act 1 focuses on the missing steampunk dilf. I’d also reorder or cut somethings entirely from both series.

Like, the Catacombs under Monster High are a eldritch nightmare realm constructed by an ancient monster race known as the Builders. They’re near impossible to map out due to their impossible size, full of impossible illusions and tech, just random weirdness. Well, what if the impossible stuff that monster kind doesn’t understand or can’t make sense out of is the result of magic not native to monster kind? What if the Builders used some Ever After and Wonderland magic in their creations in addition to monster magic and tech? What if it spanned several realms?

And like, we’d get the ghouls investigating because Ghoulia finally made progress on her research into what happened to Professor Steam and discovered that the last report of this mad scientist was he was going to go down into the Catacombs with his team to finally prove his Builders theory correct. Cleo is extra interested and invested because the name of one of the listed team members? Her long missing mom. Also Lagoona actually comes along on an adventure for once.

On the Ever After side let’s let Darling be the one to be doing research on magical locations for a school project and figure out where the lost entrance to the Labyrinth is. Idk, some of the girls go with. Definitely Blondie for her Mirrorcast, which means Dexter’s going too because camera man. Cedar goes because of all the fantastic art that’s said to be within the Labyrinth and also “I cannot tell a lie, so if we do find the Labyrinth my word will be proof that this isn’t us pulling a hoax-us-pocus”. Apple and Raven cause we need them, they’re the main characters (and Apple and Darling need to develop together so the Dragon Games payoff is like, a payoff). I also need Briar to come because I love her and this is my self-indulgent rewrite AU thing. Also I can totally picture her telling Lagoona that Gil’s family ain’t shit, love is love, make out with that boy in front of their house while flipping them the bird. Ramona and Cerise because I want a “Werewolf? No, wolfwere” interaction and also for this whole thing to end with Ramona getting Clawdeen’s number. Enemies to lovers arc, annoying little sisters in full force, all that.

I also would want Cupid to come because I just want them all to look at her like “Cupid, you have some explaining to do”.

Idk, I could have it that later when the Evil Queen escapes via something in the Catacombs/Labyrinth it’s revealed that she manipulated things by causing the exact right people to find the exact right documentation at the exact right time. Casting spells from her mirror prison like the villainous queen she literally is.

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yakumtsaki · 10 months

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Oh yay, our first thunder fire in the new house, wonder how long before someone dies again! Also love how you can see our old house in the background, a reminder you can run from your past but you can’t escape it.

I am of course talking about this family’s past of semi-acceptable interactions between family numbers, because from now on is where things really go off the rails in this department. Allow me to introduce you to..

..Julian and Stacy’s daughter, Sunset Tinker-Union! (Because her parents wear pink and purple, get it? Get the name origin?) So the minute Bartholomew brought Sunset from school I knew it was over for me, as we’re now far enough removed from the other branches of the family tree that not even the extended family mod can save us from all those third cousins being fair game.. and you all know full well that if there’s one thing this family knows how to do, is be attracted to their distant cousins-

-I held out to one tiny hope that maybe Barflina will continue being socially incompetent losers and Sunset will hate them, but no, the minute a distant cousin enters the building it’s clearly time to turn up the charm. So first Bartholomew goes and smustles with Sunset, which, Barth, I didn’t know you were even like, biologically capable of having fun in any way-

-and then Felina (who I keep forgetting is SHY LOL WHAT) goes over to ADMIRE HER. BRO. I have never seen Felina do anything remotely nice her entire life, KILL ME.

But don’t worry, Sunset clearly takes after auntie June! She’s into it! She follows Barth to the toilet for no clear reason! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME

So you at this point you might be like ya ok, calm your tits, there’s no guarantee anything will even happen. To which I reply go back and read, not even the whole thing, just our college runs, and then get back to me. We’ve been knocking on semi-incest’s door since generation 1 and now we don’t even have to knock, I mean the door is wide open! FML

ANYWAY, all this to say, it’s time to extremely focus on finding these two flops non-related-to-us people to date before we fuck off to college, and this is ALL I’m gonna be doing this update-

-Like haha oh man Cyn and Sandy are starting a rock band, there’s def jokes here, NO. NO TIME, DON’T CARE, HAVE TO AVERT DISASTER.

-Failina, hold your goddamn notebook closer so I can copy, it’s hard with my eyepatch! -It’ll be even harder when I take your other eye out!

Alright you two.. uh.. awesome kids, let’s go out!

-Go out where. -And WHY.

So you can have fun, meet people, maybe sing some karaoke or play bowling! You’ve seen how much fun your ancestors have had as teens out and about, driving drunk, being hoes, committing various crimes, you wanna miss out on that experience? It’s even how grandma Shajar met grandma Sophie and that marriage could not be stronger!

-Ugh ok, I guess I do need to get started on the spouse hunt. -And I would like to get drunk in a different setting than our library.

Perfect! Who knows, by the end of the night, you might even be besties singing duets like Jojo and Gunther!

Oh my- WE LITERALLY JUST GOT HERE. WHAT CAN YOU TWO POSSIBLY BE FIGHTING ABOUT

-SCREW YOU, DAVID OTTOMAS IS MINE -NO, HE’S MINE, HE’S THE ONLY TEEN SIM IN THE LOT AND I HAVE SENIORITY -THE HELL YOU DO

OK LET’S GO HOME

-SCREW YOU, I WANNA OPEN THE GARAGE DOOR -THE DOOR IS MINE, YOU CAN’T EVEN DRIVE YET

OMG LITERALLY STOP. I LEARNED MY LESSON, I’M NEVER MAKING YOU INTERACT AGAIN

Once again, I’m crawling back to Lakshmi! Finally she has returned to us! As you might recall I had to deal with her understudy, Margaret, and frankly she was better than Lak at her job but it just wasn’t the same. Lakshmi and I have HISTORY. We have a deep, dark, beautiful relationship-

-I’m not giving you a discount.

UGH FINE. Take 5k of our last money (I forgot to mention the new house somehow cost 500K, we legit have like 20k left)-

-and hit us with your best shot!

-Oh, I will!

Ok but you’ve said that before and I’m still not over the time I paid you 5k for June and you gave us iVan.

-No, this time I mean it! The path is clear!

The ‘path is clear’?? The path for FELINA’S love life is clearer than it was for June the literal model-hot genius???

-Indeed!

I gotta say, Lakshmi, your mouth better not be writing checks your crystal ball can’t cash.

-It is not, I promise!

Alright, I’m waiting, do it to us-

GOD

IT’S MEADOW

THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS THIS IS ALREADY HILARIOUS. LAKSHMI YOU ARE FORGIVEN FOR ALL THE SHIT YOU’VE EVER PULLED ON ME

Bro this pairing is KILLING ME. Like I get it on paper since they’re both family sims and I guess their chemistry panels and zodiacs must insanely match too, but I thought Felina would get with someone like idk. Gvaudoin? Alegra Gorey? Klara Vonderstein? Maybe the Diva or a vamp NPC? Like you know what I mean, someone that makes sense with the whole dark queen powerful dynasty blabla she has going on. But no, she’s gonna start this house Lannister bs her LTW is about with.. MEADOW THAYER. I love it so much, Felina please don’t ruin this for us!

FELINA WTF DID I JUST SAY

-Sorry, but I don’t know you well enough to accept you touching my shoulder, huhu!🌞

-But if you want to tickle me again, that’s somehow more acceptable to me despite it involving way more touching!🌞

Alright, as I suspected, not a lot going on upstairs with dear Meadow, but it’s ok, I’m just glad to have a huhuing sim around again, Cyn is like 80yo :(

Ah, the tickling of love! Good job, Fel, now we can work our way up to flirting-

-Or I can just not be a turbocuck AND GO FOR IT

Man, the Sophie genes kicked in! Good for you, Fel!

Backyard karaoke time! Seriously what song could these two possibly BOTH like, please comment or msg me your guesses.

So at this point I’m already 100% sold on Meadow as a spouse as I don’t think it’s humanly possible to come up with a funnier pairing than what fate dropped in my lap, but I’d also like to point out that Felina is so into Meadow that she’s already rolling fears of falling out of love with her, despite not even BEING IN LOVE WITH HER YET. Family sims are a fucking trip.

CUTE. Alright Felina, you’re set, we got it in one, semi-incest avoided, yay us. Now I’m gonna leave you to your dream date and focus on Barth-

-who is gambling by himself. Guess I don’t need to ask who’s drunk again!

-That’s one safe bet, haha!

Good Lord. Alright, get up, let’s find you someone while Lakshmi is still here, I’m sure our amazing luck will continue-

-OH FUCK IT’S TIAVE TEENS, HE HAS THE DON BROKEN FACE THING. ABORT ABORT

Oh good there’s nothing to abort, because it turns out Bartholomew is a COMPLETE FAILURE OF A ROMANCE SIM. Observe and keep in mind THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS:

-LALALA LALALA NOT LISTENING TO YOU INSULT MY SPATULA, FUCK OFF

LOL NO @ THE NOOGIES RETURN. FUCK. So clearly Felina has grandma Sophie’s chadly genes and Bartholomew has grandma Shajar’s noogiesexuality, except he’s a romance sim with a 20 woohoo LTW. College with this guy is gonna be UNBEARABLE.

Alright, Barth, let’s try this again, don’t be discouraged! Ignore our lack of cash!

Ignore that Felina got it right on the first try and is still on her endless dream date!

PATRICK TEENS?! LMAO. Bartholomew is so committed to going through family trees, like if it’s not gonna be his own it’s gonna be SOMEONE’S, he doesn’t care! Unlike Don-clone Tiave, Patrick is cute tho, let’s give it a try-

-Ya, let me stop you right there, buddy, not into it but best of luck in your future endeavors!

Bruh. Let’s extremely call it a night, Barth.

-Oh hi, huhu!🌸 -Hi hi, huhu!🌞 -I feel like I know you?💗

Ya Cyn, if I didn’t have photographic proof that it’s not true I’d legit think she’s your long lost daughter. Man ACTUALLY how much sense does it make that like people tend to seek out partners that remind them of their parents and Cyn was always such a maternal influence on Felina??? Holy hell this game has so many layers.

Clearly inspired by seeing her younger self in Meadow, Cyn finally finds it in her to woohoo again after Don’s passing! It’s legitimately crazy to me how loyal she was to him in death, like I can’t get over it, she never extended that courtesy to him while he was alive!

-𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴.𝙴𝚇𝙴

It’s ok, Barth, you sleep off the romantic flopping and that tray of whiskeys and we’ll try again tomorrow.

-Ya, make sure to call us over when he ‘tries again tomorrow’ cause we don’t wanna miss it HAHA -HAHAHA boy did I screw him over by passing down my personality points! -You sure did, my little turbocuck! Let’s sleep in the same bed tonight, I can’t get into this one anyway with this flop sleeping there! -That’s what everyone is gonna be saying to him in college HAHAHA -HAHAHAHA oh Shaj, I love you, let’s work on our marriage! -I love you too, we’ll overcome our issues!

Awww, see Barth? Love wins❤️

#gen 4 #ts2 #long post

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catofadifferentcolor · 9 months

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Terrible Fic Idea #58: Percy Jackson x Criminal Minds

While perusing the PJO tag for the first time in ages, I stumbled across yet another crossover I never would have thought of trying - and which, naturally, hasn't escaped my head. It managed to mash together the worlds of PJO and Criminal Minds... and so, naturally, I thought: if I were going to write this crossover, what would I do?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - until MoA. There Percy plays off the judo throw in New Rome to avoid starting a war with the Greeks, but after they're alone on the Argo Percy tells Annabeth that he doesn't appreciate 1) being blamed for his disappearance, as if Hera had asked him if he wanted to lose his memories and half a year of his life, and 2) being physically attacked by his girlfriend outside of weapons practice.

Naturally, Annabeth doesn't take this well and doubles down on her position, and the two fight like cats and dogs throughout MoA and HoO. By the time they reach Akhlys, Percy is hardly inclined to listen to Annabeth at all, and so doesn't stop poison-bending.

It's not obvious at the time, but not stopping fully unlocks Percy's divine powers. He's now immortal, like Chiron, but not a god. It's also rather the final straw for Annabeth and Percy's relationship.

Because he doesn't immediately realize he's immortal, Percy goes on with normal human things like high school and college - attending both at Camp Jupiter, which is better equipped to handle demigods than the average mortal school. It's only after he starts grad school at nearby Stanford University and gets a lot of comments on how young he looks does anyone start realizing what's happened.

Fast forward to about 15 years after HOO, when Percy has joined the BAU - because even immortals have to pay the bills somehow.

In my head I picture this to be S8/S9 of CM, largely because I enjoyed Alex Blake's character and think she'd be a good outsider POV for the story I want to tell, but dealer's choice.

Percy proves to be the BAU cryptid. His primary and secondary school records say unsub in the making... then he double majors in marine biology and classics in college (because everyone who survives four years in the legion or slays a particular number of monsters gets a classics degree when they graduate by default). Then he goes on to get a doctorate in psychology from Stanford... and swim twice for Team USA in the Olympics. He once went on vacation in the Keys and found the wreck of a lost Spanish galleon free diving. He's polite and mild mannered and goes nowhere without at least three knives on his person and a week's worth of survival gear. When he's tired, his reports sometimes slip into Ancient Greek or Latin. He may be a Hellenist and speaks of Hell as a place that he's been.

Percy is, in short, unfathomable to his profiler colleagues. They like him, but every new thing they learn about him only complicates the profile they're definitely not putting together.

He's been in the BAU for about 18 months before they receive reports of a serial killer's dumping ground in the Oakland Hills, not more than a mile from Camp Jupiter. The victims are all in their late teens and signs indicate all were killed in a ritualistic way. Most of those the investigators can identify are runaways.

Once the BAU is on site, Reid determines that someone is trying to recreate an obscure Ancient Roman sacrifice.

More importantly, Percy realizes that, yes, these are definitely the bodies of Roman demigods - and not one of them was killed by a monster before they could get to camp. In fact, he's pretty sure there's a secret entrance to camp not 100' away from the oldest body.

It's this last point that causes Percy to lead his team to Camp Jupiter. This is a revelation in itself and should answer many of the team's questions about Percy but give them twice as many new ones.

It should also be perfect timing, as they arrive just as praetors Frank and Hazel were thinking of reaching out to Percy, as he's the only real investigator either camp has. They're not aware of most of the murders, as it's not unusual for one or two demigods every year to be killed after leaving the safety of camp, but the last three victims went missing in the last three months under odd circumstances.

(One was a granddaughter of Apollo who'd talked about wanting to join the Hunters of Artemis, and when she disappeared everyone assumed that's what she did, only for the Hunters to visit later claiming she never showed. The most recent was a daughter of Bacchus who hated the regimented life of the legion and wanted to transfer to Camp Half-Blood where things were a little more their speed. Most the others were legacies or the children of minor gods.)

They set up shop in Percy's house - in part because CJ has no police force beyond the legion, which houses their main suspects - in part because Percy's house is built like a Roman temple on the edge of the temple district and no one would dare sneak into it.

(The demigods have been actively treating immortal Percy as a god, because if deification worked for Nero, they can make it work for Percy. And a deified!Percy could only be good for them.)

In the end it comes out a grandchild of Hecate/Trivia was sacrificing other demigods to their ancestor in hopes of obtaining more power - they should be just powerful enough to disguise their actions with the Mist but not much more, and intensely jealous their ancestor handed already-powerful Hazel more power during the Giant War.

Bonuses include: 1) Thalia and the Hunters showing up to help, as do Nico and Will. This should be an intensely confusing family reunion to watch from the outside given that two are immortal. Extra bonus points if the BAU recognize Nico from some wildly successful paranormal investigative channel on YouTube and are shocked to find out all the ghosts are real; 2) Will calling Percy "mom", on account of the fact he's been dating Apollo for the last five years now - Apollo's longest relationship ever - though Percy refuses to consider marriage or children until fifty years have passed; and 3) One of the BAU being tangentially involved with the mythological world already - Hotch had a relationship with a disguised Justice before meeting Hailey and their child is at Camp Jupiter? Reid has just recently met a disguised Athena at a conference and is now worried he'll arrive home to a baby on the doorstep?

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back to me if you chose to do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #criminal minds #crossover #percy x apollo #trials of apollo #toa

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honiebeaswriting · 1 year

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40 Weeks

Chapter 1

part 1

I shouldn’t have told her. I knew from the beginning that I should have kept it a secret. Telling my mother that I was pregnant was the biggest mistake of my life. Now here I am, forced to leave my home and move to the small town of Forks, Washington. Forced to leave my little siblings that I raised, forced to leave the city I grew up in, forced to leave my friends and family that I made. Now here I am, going from bus station to bus station, moving through city to city in order to get to Forks.

Forks was a small cold town. Almost always under cloud and always near freezing. It would be a shock to go from my bright sunny California to this icy place. The bus was small and packed. The smell of body odor and weed took over my senses. I didn’t mind the weed, but I definitely couldn't wait to escape the stench of the teen next to me. But after enough time and more than enough stops, I made it to my destination.

I walked as carefully as I could, making sure that I wouldn’t trip on the frozen ground. I navigated my way through the streets to get to my sweet grandparents house. My new safe haven. I got lost only 3 times before I found the small green cabin. Two cars sat in the driveway, an old blue Ford truck, and a new Subaru. Walking up the steps to the front door I knocked.

My grandmother opened the door, “Oh sweet pea, you made it okay! You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Was your bus late?”She said with a warm smile on her face, wrapping me in a hug.

“No, just got a little lost is all.” I mumbled into her shoulder. I was trapped in her arm and for a moment I felt safe. Only for a moment.

“Well come in! Welcome home dear.”

“Thank you,” I said, just wishing for this nightmare to be over. I love my grandparents as much as I love my little siblings. But my little siblings need me more than my grandparents do. They still need me. Yet here I am, living in my grandparents home, while they lived with our druggy parents. While they took care of themselves. While they attempted to survive.

Walking into the cabin I smelt pumpkin pie and my grandfather’s favorite candles. I walked into the kitchen.

“Well look who it is, little trouble maker!” My grandfather said, a large smirk on his face.

“Oh Will don’t be so rude, it’s not her fault she’s having a sweet little miracle!” My grandmother squealed.

“Oh Love she knows I’m kidding. Come here kiddo give me a hug.” He opened his arms for a hug and I entered them happily. My grandfather was my best friend growing up. He taught me how to provide for myself and subsequently my little siblings. He taught me how to find people that I love and trust. He taught me how to survive, and maybe he could teach me how to live.

“Don’t worry about me, I'm fine grandma.” I can take it. I thought. I’ve dealt with worse, far worse.

“Look, let's just get straight to the point,” My grandfather said, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“Oh let the kid settle in darling, they just got here!” My grandmother said, wanting me to rest.

“No it’s fine he’s right let's get this over with. I brought my birth certificate and my social security card. So I’m all set. I can get enrolled in the high school this week and get a job too. I’ll pay rent and everything, I don’t want to be a burden-“

My grandmother cut me off, “Oh dear, we already got you enrolled in the high school. You also don’t need a job or to pay rent. You are growing a baby inside you, we would never make you do something like that. And we already got you a doctor appointment with Dr. Cullen.” Grandmother gently grabbed my hand, trying to be as supportive as possible.

“But we do have a few rules, Number 1 don’t stay out past eleven. Number 2, go to school.” Grandpa paused to think, “That’s about all I got actually.” My grandfather said with a smile on his face. His round red cheeks stretched so his smile lines disappeared.

I was grateful that I didn’t need a job, I would still get one to make sure I had enough cash for me and the baby. But I was worried about school. I haven’t been to school since middle school. I dropped out before I even finished the 8th grade.

“Okay, thank you.” I said, letting calmness wash over me.

“Go upstairs and see your room baby. Get some rest and get cleaned up. You smell like a bus. Tomorrow we will go school shopping and then you will start school Monday.” She finished the conversation before I could respond. I could tell she didn’t want me to argue. Though, I wouldn’t argue, I would do anything to live in a warm house I didn’t have to pay for.

I left the kitchen and moved upstairs. The room was small but big enough for me and the baby. I wasn’t planning on living here long, just until I turned 18 and had enough money for my own apartment. The decor of the room was beautiful, I could tell my grandmother picked it out. The walls were gray and the accents of the room were sage green. Beautiful I thought.

And oh, the crib. My grandparents bought me a crib. I couldn’t believe that this was all mine. Ours. It was all ours. I moved to the bathroom, it was in our room and I didnt have to share it. In my old house there was one bathroom and I had to share it with seven different people. So this was a real luxury to me.

The bathroom was fully stocked with toilet paper along with shampoo and conditioner. They smelt like strawberries, not my favorite but I was more than grateful.

I undressed, standing in my boxers and sports bra, before turning on the shower. I went into my new bedroom and sifted through my backpack looking for my notebook. I tore out a page and made a list. All the things that I still needed ranging from clothes to hygiene things. I wrote down everything that I would need. I quickly got undressed fully and got into the shower.

Sunday came far quicker than I could imagine. One minute I was laying my head down to sleep the next I was up and shopping with my grandmother. We had a list of places she wanted to take me. First we went to a small shop in Forks to look for school supplies. I got a backpack, folders, notebooks and pencils. I made sure that I had all the supplies that I would need, then we went to buy me a phone. The phone wasn’t anywhere near new, but it was what I could afford. I didn’t want my grandmother paying for something like that.

Next we went to a thrift store on the rez.

“This is one of my favorite stores in the area. My friends own it and they like to give me discounts. I just love the fashion too, it’s so beautiful, and don't worry, I’ll make sure to find you good jeans and jackets for school.” My grandmother said with a large smile on her face. Figured she would be more than happy to spend some time with her grandbaby.

“Thank you for doing this with me grandma, I don’t know what I would do without you.” I mumbled, starting to get tired from all the shopping. I loved shopping but it was an indulgence I could not afford. Still, I was starting to feel drained from all the purchases.

“Oh you don’t have to thank me! I would do anything for my grandbabies. You should know this. I love you,” She said as we got in the car. I know that she loves me, it's just hard to accept something you have never really had in years. I moved to get into the car and we began driving away.

The rez wasn’t far from where we were, maybe a 20 minute drive at the max. The trees passed us in a fluid line. I turned my head out the window and gently bounced my knee to the music that was playing. Then I saw it, a ginormous figure running through the trees. It looked like a dog but it was by far the biggest dog I had ever seen. There was no way, no possible way, that this was a dog. Then it disappeared. I decided not to say anything to my grandmother, figuring I was just paranoid over nothing.

After the brief drive we made it to the shop my grandmother loves. Walking in the shop had a homey feel, full of warm orange lights and simple blue walls to contrast. There were beautiful fairy lights hanging at the entrance and many clothes racks stuffed to the brim with different articles of clothing.

The clothes were comfy and warm. I tried on different outfits while the owner and my grandmother evaluated them with joy. I mostly got good pairs of jeans with no holes in them (my grandma insisted upon no holes even though I wouldn’t have suggested holes in the first place) and jackets and sweatshirts that were more than warm.

“Is that you Mrs. y/l/n? Oh my goodness it has been so long!” A beautiful tall woman said. She was gorgeous, if she told me to drop dead right now I would. The scar covering half of her face did not take away from the beauty that was this phenomenal creature. “You need to come visit us more often., you know Sam and I would love to have you and your husband for lunch!”

I looked towards my grandmother, she knew this gorgeous woman?

“Oh I’m sorry that I haven’t visited in so long, love. I have been so busy preparing the room for my grandchild to come stay. Actually, I would like you to meet someone!” My grandmother turned to me with an infectious smile. I looked back at her and towards the new figure. “This is y/n! My grandbaby. Y/N say hello to Emily Uley. Her parents are good friends of mine. She’s not much older than you, you know?”

I smiled and pulled my hand out of my pocket to give to the woman. “Lovely to meet you Miss Uley. I’m y/n,” I said with as much respect as possible. Emiliy’s phone went off and it caught all of our attention.

“Oh gosh, okay, sorry to cut this conversation short you two but I need to go home. Sam and his friends got into some trouble in the kitchen and I need to go help. It was so nice to meet you y/n. Have a good day!” She said moving to the front of the store. We waved while she left and a sigh left my lips.

“You alright dear?” My grandmother asked me, worry evident in her tone.

“Don’t worry I’m fine! Just breathing is all.” I said, trying to ease her.

We paid for the clothes and made our way back home. This time I didn’t see a huge dog running through the trees. We pulled up to the front of the house and grabbed the things out of the car. My grandmother made peaceful conversation with me the entire time and asked me all types of questions. “How are you feeling about being back in Forks?” and “Are you excited for school?” even a “Do you have any names for the baby?”

I answered them politely and with respect. Replying “Forks is nice, just a huge change from Cali.” and “Well, I’m definitely nervous but I’ll just have to study and get a tutor.” along with “Nope. No names for the baby yet. I’m worried it’s a little too early.”

We hauled the things inside the house and made the trek up to mine and the baby’s room. “Okay well, do you need help unpacking sweet pea?” My grandma said looking exhausted from the day.

“No, don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered. I actually think I’m going to unpack and then head down to the beach with some pain and my sketchbook. I wont be out long though.” I said excited to be able to pull out some of my paints that I got for school. Apparently I was in a painting class, according to my grandma, and I would need supplies.

“Well when your done, tell me before you go that your leaving. And take the truck, we actually got it refurbished from Billy Black and his son for you. I hope it runs smoothly.” She said thoughtfully.

She shuffled out of the room while I began to unpack. I took my clothes out of the bags and laid my new backpack down on my bed. I shoved my clothes into a laundry basket and took it downstairs to start some laundry before school. I packed my bag full of notebooks, an accordion folder, and a pencil case. I would be getting all of my school books tomorrow at school.

Then I started to get ready for leaving the house. I grabbed my old backpack and put my new sketchbook in there with some watercolors and a couple of paintbrushes. I grabbed some of my charcoal and an eraser. With my new phone in one jacket pocket and headphones in the other I slung my backpack over my shoulders and left my room to go find my grandma.

#paul lahote #embry call #jacob black #twilight saga #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolf pack #leah clearwater #twilight fanfiction #jared cameron #quil ateara #paul lahote x gn!reader #paul lahote x pregnant!reader #paul lahote x reader #paullahotexreader

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northpen · 5 months

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i finished writing chapter 1 of my new fic (i'm going to write it to completion before uploading it) so here is a sneak peek of the introduction!! (warning for needles and a character being sedated)

1. LLOYD — 07:22 AM

Nobody likes Lloyd Garmadon. And they especially don’t like him the day after a Garmadon attack on Ninjago City.

It hurts, but Lloyd can’t bring himself to blame them. His father’s attacks hurt people. They level buildings. They destroy lives. They make people angry, and angry people need a target for their aggression. Since Lord Garmadon is good at hiding, they turn to the next best thing: his son.

This makes going outside pretty dangerous. On normal days, it isn’t uncommon for strangers to yell at him, or attack him, or even try to follow him home from school. If a Garmadon attack is particularly destructive, Lloyd doesn’t bother leaving his apartment at all—people have the tendency to get a little stabby when the damage is bad enough. It just isn’t safe for him.

Last night was the worst attack they’d seen all year. Lloyd would need to have an actual death wish to risk showing his face on the street.

It’s a good thing he doesn't plan on being outside for more than ten minutes.

After getting dressed, Lloyd reaches below his sheets and sticks his hand into a slit in the mattress. He pulls out a small satchel of electronics. Now, these aren’t just any electronics—they’re gifts from Blue, resident tech designer of the Secret Ninja Force. Among the goodies are a stun gun, smoke pellets, by-pass keys, and a number of other devices he could use for self-defence. Their presence in his mattress has always made him feel a little safer at home.

Lloyd upends the bag over the floor. He pushes the smoke pellets out of the way, then crushes each device underfoot. Once they’re reduced to small enough pieces, he sweeps them up and dumps them in the toilet. He tosses in the smoke pellets and flushes them away.

Before returning home last night, he ditched his ninja communicator in a pile of rubble. His gi is stored under bricks somewhere else in the city. There is absolutely nothing in his apartment or on his person that could connect him to the Green Ninja.

You see, Lloyd doesn’t plan on being safe today. But he doesn’t plan on dying, either.

He’s going to be abducted instead.

08:10 AM

If this were a normal school day, Lloyd would leave his apartment building through the fire escape and make his way to school through Ninjago City’s alleyways. He would move with his hood up and head down to conceal his face. He would hide behind dumpsters and boxes if he heard anyone else in the alleyway. He would take different routes to make it impossible for someone to trace his path back to his apartment building. No one knows where he lives, and Lloyd intends to keep it that way—it’s the only place where he can be himself without facing danger.

Today, he leaves his building not via the fire escape, but through the front entrance. He walks along a main road, hood down and chin up to give anyone passing by a clear view of his face. If anyone is looking for Lloyd Garmadon this morning, they’ll find him. And he knows people are looking for him.

A few blocks ahead of him, a couple of men stand beside an idling van with tinted windows. While crossing a busy intersection, he sees another van waiting on an adjacent road. One of the men posted outside is conducting a sweep of the area. When he sees Lloyd, he puts a handheld radio to his mouth and starts speaking.

Lloyd steps onto the same block as the first van. His heart beats quicker with anticipation. As he moves to pass the van, one of the men steps directly into his line of sight. Lloyd crashes head first into his chest.

It’s a little hard to act annoyed, but he does his best. “Ugh, watch it,” he grumbles. He tries to step around the enforcer, but he moves to block his path once more.

The enforcer opens his jacket, giving Lloyd a peak at the long blade strapped to his chest. With a smile, he asks, “Did you need a lift to school today, Garmadon?”

Before Lloyd can respond, the enforcer grabs him by his shirt and pulls him towards the van. Lloyd puts up a pretend struggle, pulling at his arms and kicking his knees, but refrains from using one of the many tricks he knows that could be used to get out of his grasp. Another enforcer opens the van’s back doors and helps drag Lloyd inside the rest of the way.

The doors are shut behind them. A thick bag is pulled over Lloyd’s head, robbing him of his vision. Someone binds his wrists behind his back with scratchy rope. Once they're done, they use their weight to pin him to the van’s floor. As the van pulls away, the rumbling engine rattles his skull painfully.

“Ow,” he mumbles. He makes a half-hearted attempt to throw off the person on top of him. They punish him by pulling back his head and slamming it against the floor.

“Shut up!” they command. “If you keep talking, we’ll gag you.”

That isn’t threatening enough to silence him. “What do you want from me?

Another voice—the enforcer from outside—speaks up. “We want your father. We want him gone. You’re going to help us do that.”

Lloyd opens his mouth to protest, but falls short of speaking when he feels something prick his arm. The effect is immediate. Within seconds, his body feels heavy as lead and he can barely think at all.

Sedation. Of course.

“Just sit tight, kid,” the enforcer says. “This will be over before you know it.”

With sick satisfaction, Lloyd smiles at how wrong they are. All of his kidnappers are wrong.

They want to use him as bait for Lord Garmadon. Unfortunately for them, Lloyd’s father doesn’t care for him at all—he won’t exchange peace for Lloyd’s life. This whole plan of theirs is going to end up as yet another fruitless attempt to save the city from Garmadon’s attacks.

That doesn’t mean it won’t save him. As long as he doesn’t die in the process, Lloyd will leave this kidnapping an innocent man. The world will finally realize that Lloyd has nothing to do with his father and leave him alone.

Okay, so maybe this isn’t the smartest way to prove his innocence. But Lloyd has tried every other trick in the book, and sixteen long years of isolation and undeserved hostility are starting to make him a little desperate. This is a huge gamble, but it’s one he’s willing to take. It’s one he has to take.

Nobody likes Lloyd Garmadon. This abduction is going to change that for good.

#fun little masked movieverse au #where no one can decide if they want to look for the missing green ninja #or try to rescue lloyd from his kidnappers #ninjago #fic: shark bait #wip #my fics

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mikuni14 · 3 months

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Ngl, but I will say that The Sign has been failing me for the last 3 episodes and I don't vibe with this series like I did at the beginning. As a matter of fact, I have the impression that episodes 1-5 are completely different than episodes 6-8.

First of all, an explanation: I watch BL series for pure escapism, I really expect nothing else, but to have a nice time watching the romance of beautiful boys 😎 I don't add any high values, any ideology, I don't have ANY high expectations from BL series, I'm an old school fujoshi. Life is shitty as it is, what's happening around us is depressing - I just need a break from reality, which was previously given to me by books, manga, anime, and now mainly by BL series.

If a BL series tries to be something more, gives me something beautiful, deep, that gives me food for reflection and analysis, such as The Eighth Sense, then I treat it as something extra, like an additional bonus, a gift from the benevolent BL gods 😀 I don't take it for granted as something that, idk, has to be there. For me, BL series are supposed to give me a good time, they have to spark joy (and what never ceases to amaze me is how, with such minimal expectations, so many series still can't do even this minimum lol). Despite everything, I can forgive a lot, as long as the couple and their romance make me feel good. Like, A LOT.

The Sign in episodes 1-5 was EXACTLY what I expect from BL series: a killer couple, great chemistry between the actors, an interesting story (even if stupid and chaotic at times). I praised this series for Phaya and Tharn (emphasis on Tharn) and their MANY high-quality scenes together. Their romance was tender and hot at the same time, the attraction between them was visible from the beginning, their relationship developed logically and linearly, the series made me feel joy and hope.

But something broke down from episode 6. The romance went into strange fluctuations, depressive lows and sudden bursts of euphoria, the number of their shared, high-quality scenes decreased dramatically, in episode 6 there were even no such scenes, and in 7 and 8 I counted like 2 of them. I CONSTANTLY GO BACK TO THEIR SCENES FROM EPISODES 1- 5, AND FROM EPISODES 6-8 I ONLY GO BACK TO ONE.

What else I loved about PhayaTharn's relationship was how equal they both are in the relationship. Since episode 6, there is no equality, the person who is constantly striving and fighting for their relationship and constantly giving of himself is Phaya. And only Phaya is shown as someone who even has a nervous breakdown due to being rejected by Tharn. Tharn is shown as if everything he does is calculated coldly, the lack of contact with Phaya is not shown as if it was even some kind of nuisance for him. Tharn became a double victim of the script and the narrative: firstly, because he is a character who is afraid that Phaya will die and therefore rejects him, and secondly, the script is unable to present it in a way that is sympathetic to Tharn. I know that Tharn is afraid. But it's not about what I know, but how I perceive it. And I perceive Tharn with irritation. (in The Eight Sense, Jae Won also rejected Ji Hyun after the accident, but in this case I knew why he did it and in addition, the series presented Jae Won in such a way that my heart bled for him. That's what a good story is, it makes me feel satisfied when looking at the scene and the characters both objectively and emotionally)

Another thing that is starting to take away from my enjoyment of watching this series is the constant leaks and spoilers that suggest a breakup, Tharn's "sacrifice" for Phaya, that somehow karma and Chalathon will win and love and Phaya will lose. Just yesterday I listened to a song sung by Babe and read the lyrics of this song… I'm, ok, like, it's totally not my style lol. This is no longer my escape from reality, reality has caught up with me in my yaoi dream 😂

Saturday was The Sign day for me, I never made any plans just to be able to watch the show when it came out. But guess what, I might have potential plans for this Saturday and after my first reaction of "no, I have to watch The Sign", my second thought was whether I really wanted to watch an episode that would probably be depressing again, with maybe one nice scene, and that's assuming that Phaya will wake up? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess I'm not in a rush 😄

I also want to say that on instagram I mostly see stuff about Babe and Billy, and the tag the sign on tumblr is kept alive thanks to the heroic efforts of about 3 good people lol whatever content appears, 90% are scenes from old episodes and from new ones, there are mostly from the love scene. Soooo, I suppose people are not too hyped about recent episodes as well... 🙂

Anyway, I am begging this series to bring back the vibe and way of presenting PhayaTharn's story from its beginnings. I have nothing against angst, tears, even temporary breakups (during the series, NOT at the end). This is how it was in The Eighth Sense, MoD, LoA, To Sir, With Love, and in fucking The Untamed where the breakup lasted for years and The Angst was served in BUCKETS lol. But what I want is for their love to be their strength, for watching them together to give me pleasure and joy. I would like to see more scenes with them, even if they were fighting (not this rejection/ cold days bullshit), but for them to be together and for there to be some good emotions. I want to return to the obsession this series made me feel, to endlessly analyze their scenes together, to blush and squeal like a little girl. And not to wait with increasing dread for the ending like in MODC 😶

(besides, the series just became a little boring and even more chaotic, like, I don't even know (and care for that matter) whose body they pulled out of the water in the last episode and how many open cases they are having at the same time lmao and now there will be also Tharn's personal revenge, this is crazy 😂)

#the sign the series #bl drama #thai bl #rant post

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