#Suuper open to questions. Please ask me questions.

[ode-to-arecibo]

I think this is a good place to start.

Timelike Empire is my main world, both worldbuilding project and place where actual novels will be set eventually. It's hard~ish sci fi with a timeline that diverges in 2020 and runs to about 2300... so far. So here's Timelike Empire's main sophonts and their sizes.

From left to right, you know this guy it's unmodified human. This one's Solenoid, from the 2050s. You'll see more of him later.

More importantly, Drakes, represented by Viviere Serasifi. Drakes were the first species to develop faster than light communication. Their societies arrange themselves into houses of close relatives which in modern times tend to act as countries or companies, ruling land or holding economic monopolies. Biologically they're hexapods evolved from an arboreal predator like a six limbed jaguar. Their feathers absorb the dyes they eat, which they use to distinguish house identity. Their head feathers are used to emote. Their society is a huge mess when humans meet them, as house Cezyra has taken power and done fascism and completely fucked everything up.

Kaledevids, or star crows, and all three of their sexes, represented by literally any kaledevid as they all look identical. Kaledevids were the second species to develop ftl communication, and the first that drakes contacted. They worked together to produce wormholes and Alcubierre drives. They have three sexes, bachelors on the left, herders in the middle and dispersers on the right. Bachelors were originally confused for crows and assumed to be the only sex, giving them the common but impolite star crow moniker. They're expert navigators and significantly more intelligent than humans or the average sophont, but only living 20-30 years. They're the only other species on this list where being naked is ever a crime and they're drawn here with scarves covering their anuses on their chests and their genitals on their backs.

Sapsippers, represented by a pretty average blue drone, are a hive mind or gestalt consciousness, to the point that after they developed an internet analog the entire homeworld could be considered one person. You would never actually see one alone like this, it would have no idea what's going on. Sapsippers form into thrums, groups which communicate through pheromones and tapping the ground. Thrums smaller than six aren't really functional as people. The race pictured here is translucent. That gave them a big head start on medicine, but more important was their biochemistry. They don't use a separate DNA analog/genetic storage system and proteins, they just have self replicating proteins (though not made of amino acids). This meant that as soon as they could isolate proteins, they could genetically engineer whatever they wanted. They started genetic engineering even before they had civilization, rubbing protein rich parts of other creatures in their wounds to make rough and often dangerous modifications. They're called sapsippers because they exclusively consume a sap secreted by a creature they ranch. If you bring a thrum to dinner you can order sugar water for them, they store energy with D-glucose like us. They often act as ship AIs for ships just a bit too small to carry a lect.

Raptors or raptorslugs or various unpronounceable buzzing sounds, represented here by a conventionally attractive male, were contacted 20 years after humans and are the most relatable to the average human. They invariably use cybernetics to speak English or Universal, as the only sound they can make is various kinds of high pitched incredibly irritating buzzing. Their second pair of wings is reduced to just the muscles they now use to pump their blood and lungs. Their main pair of wings is too weak to fly with, but is now used in semaphore and bird of paradise-eqsue mating dances. They're packhunters.

Moths, which I really should give a proper name to, pictured here sitting on the raptor's tail, evolved on the same planet as raptorslugs. While raptorslugs reduced the second pair of wings, got huge, and stopped doing alternation of generations, moths pretty much didn't change from their basal form except getting smarter. They're the sporophyte form of a common photosynthesizer. They're not always included on lists of the sophonts, mostly because they don't particularly want to be included and they're the least common of these, basically just sneaking in because raptors are so common. You'll never see a moth without a raptor, but plenty of raptors don't keep moths. There are hundreds of species of moth and they don't mind being selectively bred by raptors, as long as the raptors protect their gametophytes. Attempting to understand moth culture is a largely futile endeavor that not even raptors attempt.

Not pictured here, artificial intellects, usually referred to as lects. They're often massive godlike intelligences that shape history. Sometimes they're made of flesh. Distinguished from AI by being at least human intelligence and being able to go eccentric. Eccentricity occurs when a lect is given too much free time and infers that whoever told it to do it's job doesn't actually want that job done so much as they want to be happy. This usually results in them deciding that preserving sophont life is the most noble purpose and then accumulating as many resources as they can. Sometimes they go basilisk instead and the Silicon Hydra has to deal with them.

So there we go, there's the blog started. Coming soon: individual species references.

[craftingcare]

"A Familiar Place In A New World..."

Howdy! Because I need a different name alias for every blog or I will die, you can call me Uni here. It/xe or my neopronouns only please and thanks.

You might recognize me as the weird lurker guy @fratellis-pizzeria , and if so, hiiii <3

This is a blog dedicated to my attempt at reworking the worldbuilding around Spinch (and its solar system neighbors) using my existing oc universe system framework to try and make it into something new, and hopefully better. It's something I wanted to do for a very long time, but now I've officially lost all hangups keeping me from going for it.

The inbox is open to hopefully help in this endeavor, by taking suggestions from the masses or having specific things that suck pointed out to me that I might've missed here and there, or just to ask me questions because I genuinely do love answering questions %]

This is primarily in an effort to channel my fixation into making something actually worthwhile than just feeding into the slop because those people do not deserve any more of mine or your time as far as I'm concerned. And also out of spite for my own various reasons, of course.

Tweaking this part, i will no longer be tagging these posts with anything beyond craftingcare related tags

[Breif "basic info" rundown just in case]

KITTYCORN SUPPORTERS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE. WHATSOEVER.

(More might be added or edited later but this works for neow)

Author's message under the cut if anyone wishes to read, basically just explaining my motives with this for anybody who's curious

I got into Sp*rklecare around roughly the late preboot-early reboot era or earlier, I remember very little about this period of my life though unfortunately, mainly due to trauma (I'm not divulging in my horribly abusive childhood here), so I cant say for certain, but what I do recall regardless is that I absorbed every little bit of the reboot site's lore page when I first found it like a sponge and absolutely loved it despite its flaws. And it then went on to inspire little annecdotes all over my own future worldbuilding projects even after my mind had accidentally blocked out where I even got any of it from.

Years later I end up remembering about Sp*rklecare via a friend of mine who was super suuper into it, my memories from years ago flooded back like it was noahs ark in this bitch the second I found that worldbuilding site page again and reread volume one... and then next thing I know the first doc had dropped and hit me like a soccer mom's toyota speeding in a school zone. And yadda yadda we all know how that went and now we're here, I'm just wanting to do justice to littler Uni and just trying to have fun with something that used to make me happy and planted the seeds whats become one of my favorite special interests in the present day.

[allegra-writes]

Black Magic Girl

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

The request:

PLS! I have this request I was thinking about for a while and it’s like te reader is a witch that casts a spell on Peter, it’s kind of like a truth spell that also lowers inhibitions, and he literally ravishes her because of it cause he’s wanted her since he first met her and now he literally cannot control himself.

And:

I have read so many Peter Parker fanfics but the one I want soooo badly is where Peter Parker gets suuper dominant. Do you think you could write it? Pleaseeee 🌸

MY MASTERLIST

"Got me so blind I can't see

That she's a black magic woman

And she's tryin' to make a devil out of me"

- Black magic woman, Fleetwood Mac.

"Peter? Peter…" Your voice reached him like through a haze, or like he was underwater, your increasingly frantic tone cutting through the fog inside his head. "Please, Peter, please just… just open your eyes…"

He didn't want to, he truly didn't want to, his head was killing him and his stomach felt queasy. Almost as if he was hungover, but that wasn't possible.

"Ow… ouch…"

"Oh, thank the gods!" You almost sobbed in relief as his eyes fluttered open.  He was ok. You helped him sit up on the floor, and he smiled, a little loopilly, at you.

"Hey…" He greeted, leaning heavily on you, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face, "Wha- what happened?"

Peter frowned, taking a look around the interrogation room: the metal table, chairs and even the prisoner were overturned and laying messily around the both of you.

You flinched,

"I was trying to cast a spell…"

Oh, yeah, the spell, he remembered now. The herbs, the chanting, the rose-gold light.

"The truth spell," He recalled, "You were trying to cast a truth spell, for- for the asgardian dude…"

"Yeah…"

"What happened?"

You sighed,

"It kinda… exploded I guess"

"Kid! Are you alright?" Tony and Steve came running from the hallway, no doubt having seen the whole thing through the security cameras.

"Fine, Mr. Stark," He stood, steadying himself with your help, "just a little dizzy"

"What about you, doll, you ok?" Steve hovered over you and you could swear a soft growl vibrated in Peter's chest "This is our fault, I knew we shouldn't have let you try this alone"

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, it was always like that with the Captain, he was always babying you, underestimating you. You hated it.

"I'm fine"

"But the spell backfired, it-"

"No… I don't think it did" You interrupted him, "I mean, it didn't hit me, it didn't knock me back like…" You trailed off. Like it had done everything else .

"Woah, Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good" Peter stumbled, both you and Tony holding him to stop him from falling face first on the floor.

"Kiddo, what is it? Talk to me"

Peter babbled intelligibly. You cursed.

"What? What is going on, y/n?" Tony questioned, visibly worried, ignoring Steve's automatic language protest.

"I-I think it worked. His pupils are dilated, we need to take him to the med bay, fast!"

"Why? I mean it's just a truth spell…"

"It's not just any truth spell" You snapped, "It's like… like a gallon of alcohol all at once, it loosens your tongue by lowering your inhibitions to the point of nonexistence! You tell the truth because the filter between your brain and your mouth disappears!"

Peter looked positively green now,

"Oh, shit! Take me to the med bay, take me to the med bay NOW! Mr. Stark, please!"

Tony's eyes flickered between you and his protege's terrified face, he knew exactly what Peter was afraid to tell you.

And he actually thought it was about time.

"Sorry, underoos, prisoner is waking up, we have to start this interrogation right away" he apologized, sounding anything but sorry, "but you can walk, it's not that far, you can lock yourself there until the effect wears out."

"Oh, princess, go with him, would ya? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble on the way" Tony added as an afterthought. You nodded and took Peter's arm as you guided him out of the room, none of you paying any mind to the super soldiers protests.

"Please, you don't have to do this" Peter tried to disentangle from you once you were far enough from the older Avengers ears, "I- I can make it to the bay by myself"

You scoffed,

"Is that true?"

"No, I just wanna get away from you fast" Peter blurted out. You stopped dead in your tracks.

"What? Why?" You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, you really did.

"Because" His breathy voice in your ear sent an unexpected shiver down your spine as he leaned even closer, putting more of his weight on you, "I don't trust myself near you right now"

You gulped. There was something in his voice, something you couldn't put your finger on. Something primal, almost dark. The shift in him was so sudden it left you stunned, dazed.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean it takes me a lot of self control to keep myself away from you" He explained, between gritted teeth, the struggle clear in his tone, "and I can feel that control slip away… I don't know… how much longer can I keep it together"

You turned to meet his eyes and you found them darkened with lust, with barely contained desire.

"What if… what if I don't want you to stay away from me?"

A helpless noise left his throat, a wordless surrender, as his will finally broke, as he crushed his lips to yours. He nibbled at your lower lip before licking it, before coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. You felt your body come alive, every nerve ending screaming for more, more of the taste of his tongue, more of his body against yours. You snaked your arms around his neck and felt his twist around your waist, one hand splayed on your back, pressing you closer. He started pushing you, walking you back, but instead of hitting the wall like you expected, you both kept moving. It wasn't until the back of your thighs collided with a metal table that you realized he had guided you into another interrogation room.

You grabbed onto the table to stop from falling back on it, and Peter took advantage of that to shove his pelvis against yours, forcing you to sit on it as he stepped between your legs. You gasped for air as he released your lips. He disentangled one arm from around your back. You heard, more than saw, the spider webs that closed and locked the door; you hadn't noticed he was still wearing his web-shooters under his black stealth suit. Another hiss, and the security camera was out.

"Peter… what are you doing?"

He ignored your question, capturing your lips again, pressing himself harder against you, his erection against your center making what was on his mind perfectly clear.

You pushed at his chest until he freed your mouth,

"Peter, wait, we can't" You tried to reason as his lips traced their way down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, undoubtedly leaving marks. "You're under a spell, this isn't you!"

"But it is me" He contended, catching your hands in a vice-like grip, "I wanted you for so long… and you want me to, I know it. I can smell it on you" He whispered the last part against your lips, tongue peeking out to lick at the corner of your mouth.

"Wh-why didn't you…" You tried to focus your swimming head enough to make sense, "You never said anything"

Peter was on you again, kissing you with a ferocity you would have never believed the sweet boy capable of.

"I couldn't" He grunted, when he finally broke the kiss, "you're their little girl. The baby of the group. Their innocent little princess, who can do no wrong…" He shook his head, "And the things I wanted to do you. That I still want to do to you…"

You bristled at his words, you weren't even the youngest one. Peter was, actually. And he was twenty-three. If he was treated like an adult you didn't see why you shouldn't be. You wanted Peter to fuck you, not to put you on a pedestal.

You met his eyes, almost defiant.

"I'm not that innocent"

He licked his lips,

"Aren't you?"

You shook your head no,

"Show me" You demanded, "Show me what you've been dreaming of"

Peter smirked, grabbing your chin almost painfully,

"Ask me nicely"

"Please"

That was all it took, one word and he was unleashed, taking your hands and tying them at your back with another swoosh of his web-shooter, ripping open your plain white blouse, tiny pearly buttons flying everywhere. He buched it around your tied wrists, before taking a step back, admiring his work.

"I fantasized about this," He confessed, "every time we worked together at the lab: You, sitting pretty on the worktable, all tied up for me…" his eyes never left you, you flushed chest, your nipples hard behind your lacy pink bra, as he placed his palms on your knees, slowly sliding them up, "About slipping my hands under this ppretty pink skirt…" his thumbs met above your cotton covered crotch and he pressed, the fabric quickly becoming damp.

A soft moan left your lips as he rubbed up and down your slit. But it was muffled by a sticky substance suddenly covering your lips.

Peter chuckled at the dirty look you threw him. He lowered his head, breath hot on your breasts,

"I dreamed about gagging you up so they wouldn't hear your moans as I…" He brought his tongue out to lick one pebbled nipple above the coarse lace, "Yeah, just like that" He praised the muted noise you made, before bringing his hands to your chest, ripping the flimsy fabric from your body like paper scraps and really diving in, sucking and biting and bruising. He wasn't being delicate with you, he wasn't coddling you and treating you like you were about to break like everybody else. And you loved it.

He bit down on the swell of your breast and you looked down, surprised to see he hadn't drawn blood. He soothed the hurt with his tongue, looking up at you. You were gorgeous, all caught up in his webs, breathing hard and glossy eyed, already looking ravished.

He stood to whisper in your ear, as his fingers tugged your underwear to the side,

"I pictured burying my hard cock between your legs..." two long fingers breached your entrance and you let your head fell on his shoulder, "Over… and over… and over…" he punctuated every word with a sharp thrust of his fingers in and out of you, and suddenly you were glad he had gagged you. Otherwise you were sure everyone in the compound would have heard your wantom moans.

His thumb found your clit and your head fell back again and Peter took the chance to lift your skirt. The vision of his fingers glistening with your juices, gliding in and out of your pussy half covered by your white cotton panties, tableau vivant of your defiled innocence was too much for him. He took his hands off you, opening his fly and lowering his boxers just far enough to free his hard, throbbing member, impaling you in one go. You tried to get away from the sudden intrusion on instinct, he was way too thick, way too long. But he hooked his hands behind your bended knees, pulling you forward, farther down his oversized cock.

"Oh no baby," He scolded, "good sluts take what is given to them" his crass language made you shiver, and he smirked, "Don't you want to be my good little slut?"

You nodded, and his expression softened, as he snaked a hand around your back, bringing you closer, cock sinking into you deeper, inch by painfully delicious inch. Once he was buried to the hilt, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"You did so good, baby girl. I knew you could take it all." His praise warmed your insides, and you relaxed into his embrace.

"Can you still make sparks with your hands tied like this?"

His question struck you as odd, but you concentrated in creating the flickers anyway, a shower of pretty lights all the answer you were able to give him.

"Good baby girl. I know I should have told you this before, but if you ever need me to stop or I do something you don't like, make red sparkles and I promise I'll stop"

You nodded your head, and he kissed you again, slowly starting to move his hips, dragging his cock almost all the way out, only to push his way back in, a little harder, a little faster every time.

"Oh baby girl… feels so good…" He moaned, "knew this would be… the best pussy I ever had"

You leaned back, bracing yourself on your bounded hands behind you, opening your legs wider, offering yourself to him.

"Yeah, like that… you like this, don't you? Like me fucking you… but sluts like it hard… and fast"

You made a noise of agreement, and he picked up his pace, hips driving into you, cock stabbing into you with no mercy. The pornographic wet sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating in the soundproof room, the sight of your pussy, juicy and red, swallowing his dick over and over… Fuck, he could see himself moving inside you, your skin rippling with every thrust, every intrusion of his massive cock. He was close, and you were too, he could tell by the way you were tensing up, the explosion imminent. But he wanted you debased, he wanted you desperate. He wanted you begging for it, begging for him.  

He wanted to ruin you.

He slipped out of you, taking a step back, leaving you empty just as you were about to fall over the edge. He chuckled darkly at your stifled cry of protest, wrapping his hand around himself, pumping it up and down his length.

You looked thoroughly wrecked: cunt fucked open, hair a mess, clothes hanging in rags around your frame. So fucking beautiful and obscene, that only a handful of strokes later, and he was painting your chest on white ribbons, marking you with his come. He grabbed your chin again, lips pressing to your webbed ones and somehow, that felt dirtier than everything he had done to you so far.

You sobbed into the kiss.

"What is it baby girl?" He cooed, fingers delicately pushing your hair away from your sweat covered forehead. "You want to come?"

You nodded frantically. Peter applied something to your lips, dissolving the webbing. He took a step back.

"Show me how much you want it"

You didn't need to be told twice, jumping from the table and falling to your knees in front of him. You made eye contact as you nuzzled his length, and saw his sharp intake of breath. You hid your smile at his little display of weakness, at the small crack of his façade of dominance.

"You know how to do this?"

You scoffed,

"I'm not a virgin!"

"I know you aren't" He cupped your face, and you twisted to capture his thumb into your mouth, "You truly aren't that innocent, are you?"

You shook your head no, releasing his digit with a pop.

"Show me how dirty you are baby girl"

A new challenging look shone in your eyes,

"As dirty as you dare to make me. Use me, Peter. Fuck my face, please"

Fuck.

He was hallucinating, he had to be. Years of watching porn, of daydreaming of you and the filthiest fantasies his brain could come up with hadn't prepared him for this, for the reality of you on your knees for him, asking him to…

Fuck!

He caressed your cheek, his other hand tangling on your hair, angling your head just so. Your lips fell open and he entered your mouth, far slower than he had entered you. He had to take it slow, otherwise he wasn't going to last, not with you still staring up at him, angelic doe eyes bright and big and adoring. He started rocking his hips, withdrawing only to surge back, a little deeper each time. You tried to suppress your gag reflex, but every time your throat constricted around him it only seemed to spur him on. Breathing was becoming hard and your eyes started to glisten with unshed tears.

"You look… so beautiful… choking on my cock" His words were strained, as you tried to massage his shaft with your tongue to the best of your abilities, drool dripping down your chin. "Prettiest little slut… ever"

You hummed, pleased, and the vibrations got him cursing out loud. He would have liked to enjoy that sinful mouth of yours longer, but he could feel the rise building again, and this time he didn't want to waste it. He had to come inside you, show you who you belonged to.

He slipped out and helped you stand, massaging your jaw and cheeks with his fingertips, before pulling you close for another earth shattering kiss. You melted into it, into him. The feeling of his clothed body against your naked skin got you reeling.

"Please" You gasped into his mouth, "Peter… please"

"God, baby girl, you beg so pretty!" He turned you around, bending you over the table. The cold metal felt delicious against your fevered skin. You felt him move behind you, flipping your skirt over your back, rolling your ruined panties down your thighs. Not being able to see him, not knowing what would come next, made it all the more exciting, your body trembling with anticipation.

His rough palms grazed your ass, grabbing handfuls of your globes, spreading them apart.

"Fuck, baby girl, you're pretty everywhere…"

One of his hands left you as he guided his cock between your folds. He felt even bigger like this, his girth stretching you in all the good ways. You were so wet that he had no problem building up a fast rhythm right away, his cock gliding in and out smoothly, your body offering no resistance as he laid it into you hard, taking hold of your bound hands for leverage, easily moving you to meet his implacable thrusts, fucking you mercilessly.

You bit your lips, trying to reign in your moans and sobs.

"Oh no, baby girl… let me hear you… let them hear you"

You were to lost in the pleasure he was inflicting upon you to be able to form a coherent question but he must have sense your confusion, because he explained,

"The cap has a crush on you... did you know that?.. He hates it… makes him feel like a dirty old man" He leaned over your back, to place a filthy lick up the side of your neck, his punishing pace never faltering, "What would he say if he saw you like this… covered in my cum, moaning like a slut, taking my cock… God you take me so well, baby girl" it was him the one moaning the end of his sentence out.

To his surprise, you giggled,

"Oh god… he would have a heart attack!"

"You don't- don't care?"

You started moving with him, fucking yourself back on his cock,

"Rather be your cockslut… than his princess"

Peter growled, and suddenly he was on your back, his weight pinning you down. If you thought he was fucking you hard before, it was nothing compared with the pistoning of his hips now, as one of his hands fisted in your hair, turning your head so he could attack your mouth with his, and the other slid underneath you, finding your clit, rubing it in quick short strokes, almost painfully. The heat became almost unbearable, the coil tightening fast, your toes curling. You couldn't breath, trapped as you were under the onslaught of his cock on your already abused pussy, filling you over and over, owning you.

"Yes! Like that, give it to me baby girl… I can feel you coming… who's the one that's making you come?"

"You!"

"Say my name" He demanded, lifting you from your feet under the power of his thrusts, "who's the only one who fucks you like this?"

"You are, Peter!" You cried as your orgasm exploded. But he didn't stop, couldn't stop, not when he could feel your walls starting to squeeze him again, thight, so thight stars were exploding behind his eyelids.

"Louder, scream for me, baby girl!"

It was too much, his cock impaling you so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs, the cruel pleasure setting every nerve ending on fire, his moans and groans in your ear as he used your body ruthlessly and unforgiving, the new climax crashing on you, stronger and more intense that the first one.

"PETER!" You heard yourself scream, felt his hot seed deep inside you… Right before the world went black.

…

The next morning, you woke up in a bed that wasn't yours, wrapped in arms that cradled you like you were something precious, and fragile, but for the first time, you didn't mind. You vaguely recalled the soft cotton of your ruined top cleaning the mess between your legs, Peter's bare chest as he dressed you in his own t-shirt to preserve your modesty. As he gathered you close, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. But you did remember the hot bath, your back to his chest, nested between his legs, hands exploring, caressing, soothing marks and bruised spots.

And you remember the love making, the both of you insatiable now that you finally had the other in your arms. The tender promises exchanged in the sacred darkness before sunrise.

Needless to say, you were in a good mood, not even Tony sending knowing looks your way, and Steve, avoiding looking at you and Peter altogether could sour your mood. They didn't matter. Or rather, Steve didn't matter. He was in love with his own version of you, with this image he had created in his head and you weren't sorry to shatter it to pieces. Tony was Tony, and you knew he was happy for his protegee.

It wasn't until you got inside your own lab (if you could call that the half greenhouse, half library), that your mood was shaken.

"Master!" You froze in the doorway as you saw your mentor, leaning back casually against one of the tables, looking at something on his Starkpad, "You- you're back early! I thought the council was still-"

"Those old hags are still arguing with each other" He interrupted your anxious greeting, "I grew bored of them. But now I am thoroughly entertained"

You knew it was your turn to talk, to ask what was it he found so interesting. But your words died in your throat. Your hands started to sweat, and you dried them on the skirt of your pretty pink sundress. Peter had been very insistent: Only skirts and dresses from now on, he wanted you ready for him anywhere, anytime. You felt yourself heat up and tried to get a grip; this wasn't the place, nor the time for such thoughts.

Loki finally raised his gaze from the screen, blue eyes piercing through you.

"Tony asked me to take a look at this footage, find where you went wrong and correct you" he snorted, "As if I need his input in how to best train my apprentice…"

He motioned to you to come closer, playing the video again for you.

"Do you want to know what I found, my little enchantress?"

You didn't reply. You didn't have to, anyway. He didn't need it to continue.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Your work was flawless, as usual"

You dared a smile,

"Thank you, master"

He smiled back, amused, and you breathed in relief as you realized, he wasn't mad at you. He was pleased by you. "It does beg the question, why did your spell explode?"

Your smile turned into a smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Because I wanted it to, of course"

He laughed, boisterous and loud and for a second, he reminded you of his brother. He was delighted, not because you had finally caught your little spider in a web of your own weaving, he couldn't care less about the boy. No, he was pleased that you had, at last, started following his advice, the one he had given you so long ago, one night you had come to him frustrated to tears, after the Avengers had refused yet again to take you into a mission with them, leaving you to paperwork and babysitting.

"I almost preferred it when they were afraid of me! At least back then they respected me…"

Loki had tsked,

"Oh, no, none of that! Always let them underestimate you, my little enchantress. Let them think you're the delicate flower in their garden, but be the serpent under it "

… And what a charming little serpent you were .

The end.

Buy me a coffee

[samaraclegane]

Potential writing prompt: someone finally appreciates Merlin

author’s note: hey anon! firstly, thanks for this little merthur prompt. suuper nice to work with, just to get me back into the swing of things, and I feel like it was easy to fit with the two of them! secondly, this has sort of got me wanting to make this into a longer fic, maybe with Arthur showing Merlin that he appreciates him... not too sure atm but let me knows if you personally would want to see that! thirdly, hope this is good for you. thanks again for sending in a prompt!

-Merlin, all around, is a good person. he tries his very best to be, anyway: he refrains from complaining (too much, at least), does his chores as he’s told (both Arthur’s and Gaius’), and he’s polite all the way, rarely snapping back at the prince, even when he’s being a prick.

-on top of it all, he’s not pompous about it. he doesn’t go out flaunting his kindness and perfection everywhere he can - God forbid it, he couldn’t have the guts to do such a thing. no, he just gets on, never asking for a please or thanks.

-then, one day, somebody notices. somebody actually sees the work he’s putting in, and thanks him for it. 

-he’s a gallant man, tall and broad - attractive, thinks Merlin, thoug he daren’t say it. he stops Merlin as he walks through the bustling square, quirking a brow and tipping his mouth up at the corners in an imitation of the aforementioned action, and Merlin swears his heart flutters down into his feet at this.

-yes, the man is good looking, but above all else, he’s kind. it’s a nice change around here, where the only person that shows him the littlest bit of understanding and gratitude is Gwen, who he hasn’t seen in a good few days.

-”thank you,” the man speaks purposefully, powerfully, actually looking at Merlin as he says it, almost like he means it. Merlin’s ready to nod and leave, but then the man’s hand comes gently to rest on his shoulder, and his stomach begins to pirouette. “what’s your name?”

-Merlin’s reluctant to tell him at first. the man seems important, at least somewhat, with his tidy hair and beard and neat clothes. he doesn’t quite look royal, maybe just some sort of lower lord, but he still makes Merlin nervous.

-”Merlin,” he says finally, saying the name tentatively like it’s unfamiliar to his tongue, like it burns him on the way out. 

-”well, Merlin,” the man addresses him, smiling wider now, “thank you very much for your help. not everyone would do that, you know - aid a stranger.”

-”you’re telling me,” Merlin breathes out a laugh, not really considering what he’s saying until it’s out there, but before he has time to apologise and duck his head, losing himself in the crowd, the man begins to laugh.

-”you’re a funny one!” the man proclaims, and suddenly Merlin feels himself flush as he realises the man’s hand still hasn’t moved from its place on his shoulder, “that’s a good way to be.”

-Merlin nods, finding himself unable to look away from the man’s dark eyes. they don’t look dangerous - no, not even the slightest. he looks inviting, in every way, and just when Merlin opens his mouth to continue their conversation-

-”Merlin!”

-Arthur’s voice erupts, booming around the courtyard, and Merlin’s certain the prince’s tone makes a few people pick up their pace. him, though? he just groans and rolls his eyes, locating the blonde haired man in next to no time.

-”Merlin,” Arthur repeats, drawing rapidly nearer to him, looking positively furious, “what do you think you’re doing? you’re supposed to be washing my clothes for tonight’s- who’s this?”

-Arthur nods rather rudely to Merlin’s companion, who has now lifted his hand from the latter’s shoulder and looks like he’s ready to flee at the sight of the irked royal.

-”this is-” Merlin suddenly realises he doesn’t know the man’s name, but just as he does so, the man speaks up.

-”I- don’t think I...” he trails off, then begins to walk backwards, more and more out of sight by the second, “I’d better get going. lovely meeting you, Merlin! and thanks again.”

-and with this, the man vanishes almost into thin air, though Arthur seems less concerned with this borderline sorcery and more in favour of antagonising Merlin, as always.

-”oh, so that’s what you do, is it?” Arthur begins again, and Merlin can’t help the way his face falls when he turns to look at his so-called-friend. “sneak off behind my back to chat to people in the square? do you even know anybody? I didn’t think any of the servants liked you, let alone actual respectable people.”

-something about Arthur’s tone riles Merlin up and, unable to stop himself, he suddenly spits, “he was appreciating me for what I do, unlike some people.”

-this shuts Arthur up, even if it’s just momentarily. he looks like he would splutter if he tried to retort, and Merlin takes his time to pick up his wooden barrow and continue walking. Arthur’s not going to get the last word this time.

-”I- hey, wait- Merlin!”

-Arthur’s quick to catch up to him, but still Merlin derives some sadistic joy from watching the prince jog intermittently to keep up with his own steady pace.

-”you can’t just- do that, Merlin,” says Arthur ambiguously, brows tightly knitted and face eternally frowning, “you can’t- Merlin! Would. You. Bloody. Stop!”

-it’s not even close to a question, but even so Merlin considers ignoring Arthur’s command. it would feel like a nice, well-earned bit of revenge to make Arthur keep running beside him, but he remembers all too well what happened the last time he degraded Arthur, and he doesn’t really fancy the stocks again.

-reluctantly, he comes to a stop. still, to stand his ground as much as he can without putting his dignity in danger again, he stares Arthur down, waiting for some sort of explanation, or better yet an apology, that he doesn’t really expect to receive.

-it takes Arthur a moment to find the words, but when he does, Merlin has to admit, he’s actually a little touched.

-”I appreciate you,” he says, the mocking-offended tone gone from his voice, leaving only him staring into Merlin’s eyes, right there on the open courtyard, almost like he’s pleading for his manservant’s forgiveness: what a funny idea.

-Merlin has an artillery of witty comebacks, but he opts to use none of them instead. between the look on Arthur’s face and the sincerity of his words, Merlin decides it best to just leave that as that, and so he picks up the barrow and begins to walk again, grinning all the way.

-he picks up some speed when he notices Arthur has fallen behind. after all, when he’s finished dropping this off, he’s got to go and clean the prince’s clothing, and he doesn’t want to mess that up, does he?

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

the hashtag’s real (colby brock)

                                         The One With Solby

A/N: This got suuper long and heated....please ignore me and I hope you enjoy :D

You were ready for a movie night with your loving boyfriend, away from the stress of exams and papers that needed to be written for your Graduate program, all you wanted to do was see his face. You entered the Trap House and looked around. It looked like only Sam and Colby’s cars were in the driveway so you figured you’d just let yourself in. You padded up the stairs, just as you heard the shower turn off.

 You shrugged as you pushed the door to Colby’s room open and waited for him. You jumped on his bed and laid down when you heard chatter coming from the hallway. The door swung open to reveal your boyfriend and Sam, both wrapped in white towels with dripping wet hair. They stopped when they saw you on the bed.

 “Y/N,” Colby’s voice cracked slightly and his hand clenched the towel a little tighter to his waist. He turned to look at Sam who sighed.

 “Well, this isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” Sam grumbled and moved slightly behind Colby to the doorway.

“What’s going on?” you sat up on Colby’s bed, fingers picking at the fuzzy on the blanket wrapped up in your lap.

 “Y/N,” Colby started again, “I don’t really know how to tell you this…”

“Colby,” you said, “You’re freaking me out. Did you guys just take a shower together?” Colby ran a hand through his wet dark locks.  

 “Yeah…,” Colby sighed and took a step toward the bed. “Y/N, Sam and I…” he gulped and turned to look at Sam. “Sam and I sometimes like to-,”

 “Where’s the camera,” you questioned, immediately turning to search for the lens. “This is a prank, isn’t it?”

 “This isn’t a prank,” Sam stated slowly, “Colby and I sometimes like to fool around.” Silence filled the room.

 “You’re joking with me,” you stated, shaking your head as you stood from the mattress and sliding your phone in your pocket.

 “It’s not a joke,” Colby glanced down, away from your hard gaze. “Sam and I have been friends for so long, he knows me better than anyone else in the world, better than myself really.”

 “It was supposed to be a one time thing…” Sam added, scratching his head slightly. The awkward tension in the room built.

 “How long have you two been…” you paused, turning to look between the two of them. You could feel your face getting hot, unsure of whether you were hurt, angry or embarrassed. You and Colby had been dating for a solid eight months now. You cared a lot about him and always wanted to be around. You knew that the boys had the whole #solby thing going on their videos but you always thought it was just for kicks. You felt like you might be sick, months of commitment thrown out the window.

 “It started to happen before I met you,” Colby admitted, still not looking you in the eye.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend?” you asked, your tone showing hurt and confusion. “I would support you and who you love but you shouldn’t fool me into loving you in the process,” you frowned and wrapped your arms around yourself.

 “I didn’t know how to tell you,” Colby’s icy blue irises looked at you now, piercing through you. “It’s not that I didn’t like you, I do...I just-, there’s something about Sam and I that I can’t-,”

 “Stop,” you held your hand up, stepping toward him. “I can’t tell if you guys are joking, and I don’t know what to say.”

“This isn’t a joke Y/N,” Sam explained.

“You’re wearing shorts under your towel, clearly this is a joke,” you tried, stepping forward again toward Colby and tugging his towel away to reveal his naked thighs. Colby was naked under his towel and Sam’s eyes traveled south to his bum. You and Colby glanced at each other shocked.

“You’re telling the truth,” you mumbled, handing him back the towel quickly. “I should go,” you said as you rushed past the two of them and out the door. You traveled quickly down the stairs to the front door and slammed it shut behind you. You had taken an Uber to get here so you’d have to wait for one to come get you. You quickly pulled your phone from your pocket and opening the app just as Colby came running out of the house, camera in hand.

“Baby, it’s a prank! It’s a prank,” he yelled, now dressed in some boxer briefs. Behind him, Sam wore a bathing suit with a GoPro in hand. You covered your face in your hands as you slid down on to the curb.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, hands shielding your face as he caught up to where you were. He plopped beside you and put the camera down, allowing Sam to film your reaction. “But you were naked!” Colby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his bare chest as he burst into laughter.

“I knew it would be hard to convince you! I had to go the extra mile,” Colby grinned and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Frankly, I didn’t even know you were naked under there,” Sam chuckled, holding out a fist to Colby, “Great touch.”

“I almost lost it,” you said, glancing up at your cheeky boyfriend.

“Would you have ever talked to me again?” he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’re one of my best friends, it would’ve taken a while but like I said, I’d support you and who you love. I would just need time,” you smiled geniunely. “But, ya’ll are just fueling the #Solby fire and that’ll be yours to deal with. Wait until I tell Kat,” you winked at Sam. They did their outro as you went back into the house.

“So are you still staying over tonight?” Colby asked, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips as you made your way back upstairs.

“I don’t know, what if you run off to Sam in the middle of the night?” you teased and leaned back to press your lips to his. He stayed there with you for a moment, taking in your fingers in his hair and your warm soft hand on his cheek.

“I won’t be leaving your side any time soon, so you might want to get used to it,” he rasped as you got inside his room and closed the door, backing you into it in the process. His groin pressed against your crotch tightly as you giggled, feeling his bulge. His lips traveled from yours, down your jawline. His hot breath tickled as he began to nibble on the shell of your ear. You let out tiny moans and pants as his grip on your waist strengthened like a vice.

“Colby Brock, are you trying to seduce me?” you breathed as he sucked on the apex of your neck, your hips jutting out to get some friction.

“It worked on Sam,” he said playfully, biting down on your collarbone; light enough not to hurt you but hard enough that you gasped out in pleasure.

“You better make me forget about this whole damn prank,” you stated, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

[mystery-deer]

Sick

Raymond hadn’t wanted to go into work that morning. He rarely felt that way as his job was a very important part of his life that he took incredibly seriously. However, that particular morning he had been awakened by his husband retching in the bathroom. He had mistaken him for a burglar and kicked down the door shouting that he was an officer which had led to a stressful situation for them both. 

“I’m sorry.” Kevin was silent as Raymond apologized for the fifth time that day and Raymond geared up for another speech about mistakes and forgiveness and eternal love when Kevin pointed to his throat and made a slicing motion. “You wish I were dead?” “Mrrr.” Kevin replied unhelpfully, pushing his face into his pillow. “Rymmnd.” “Kevin just- oh, your throat is sore?” Kevin offered him a slow cap that Raymond thought was uncalled for. “I’m staying with you. You can’t properly communicate. What if you need something? What if you fall and can’t get up?” “Mmmn.” “Stop trying to speak!” His phone pinged and it was a text from Kevin. He was surprised as he hadn’t seen his husband reach for his phone or type anything and yet he was staring at him with the eyes of a man considering murder.

Kevin Cozner PHD: I am still able bodied Raymond. Go to work, you’re needed.

“Work isn’t my only obligation.” Furious texting from Kevin, his nails typing sharply away at his phone. “Kevin you’re not going to change my mind on this.”

Twenty minutes and forty eloquently worded and biting messages later Raymond was in his car muttering to himself as Kevin waved from their bedroom window looking god awful but smug as hell. _____________ “Captain, what’s up with you? You’ve been super weird all day.” Raymond didn’t look up at Peralta, instead continuing to alternate between doing paper work and searching multiple sites for instructions on how to win a text argument and how to convince someone they need help. “Captain? Cap-i-tan? Cap-u-tan? C-dog? C-” “I don’t believe my acting ‘super weird’ is any of your business Peralta.” “But every time you’re like this you kind of bring down the mood, you know?” “I’m sorry, am I 'cramping your style’? Am I not being fun enough for you? This is a precinct not some hooligan gaff about.” “…I mean isn’t a precinct teechnically-” “Leave.” “Ok ok ok cool cool cool cool.” Peralta nodded his head vigorously and left the office walking backwards. What an odd and irritating man. Sometimes he wished he had someone around to help him control Peralta’s antics.

He went back to work for a full five minutes before the thought circled round again. Peralata. That’s what he needed. He got up immediately to seek the man out and found him in the break room with Amy and Gina (disappointing as they were all supposed to be working.) “Heeeey Captain.” Amy said in a high pitched voice, her eyes overcompensatingly wide. So they were gossiping, probably about him and his mood. “I know you are all wondering about the source of my odd mood today.” “Whaaaat, no?” Peralta said, his statement tilting upwards into a question. They were all so terrible at lying. “You gonna spill the beans Captain?” Gina asked in an excited monotone (something he hadn’t thought possible until Gina had spent over an hour in his office one day demonstrating how she has converted every known emotion into monotone)

“My husband Kevin is home today as he is very sick. No, he doesn’t have a terminal illness he has the flu or something similar.” He added after seeing the looks on all their faces. He was touched they cared so transparently. “I would like someone from the precinct to go check up on him, just for a bit. Please don’t tell him I sent you, he’d be incredibly embarrassed.”

“I could-” Gina started but Holt quickly shot her down. Kevin and her seemed to get along well and he wouldn’t be annoyed enough by her presence. “I need you here today Gina. There are a startling number of tasks that require your…skills.” Gina nodded sagely and floated back over to her desk, voguing as she spun her chair in a circle. Holt watched her as Santiago suggested Terry or Boyle as Terry was amazing at mothering and Boyle could probably cook a simple soup. Raymond scoffed. “We all know that Boyle would NOT cook a simple soup. He doesn’t know the meaning. He’d cook something with a tongue or a tentacle in it that wouldn’t help with Kevin’s condition. I did ask Sargent Jeffords if he’d be up to the task but he politely informed me that he had his hands full with…those two.” He gestured towards Hitchcock and Scully who were at that moment trying to eat a whole pizza they’d rolled up and split in half. “They’ve been like that all day.” And they’d gotten the idea from him. “So…I suppose…” He tried to sound reluctant as he glanced at Peralta who was bursting at the seams.

“I can go Captain! I’m not busy at all!” He chirped. Raymond made an assenting but displeased noise. “Is that a yes? I’ll assume it is! Don’t worry captain this’ll be the best decision you never made!” And he was off, practically scrambling towards the elevator. He was nearly back in his office when Santiago stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Captain, may I go with him? He’ll cause more harm than good alone and we’re partners and-” He had stopped listening to her passionate plea to think. He had originally intended to pile a tedious amount of paperwork on her but he was rethinking that now. Santiago was ordinarily an extremely competent detective, one of the best. However when she was around him and his husband something happened to frazzle her, and a frazzled Santiago paired with an ordinary Peralta could spell the exact kind of disaster he needed. “You may go Santiago.” Her eyes went wide and she began to thank him profusely. He pointed to the elevator. “Peralta will leave you if you don’t hurry.” And just like that she was gone.

He waited until he was in the privacy of his office to chuckle darkly to himself. _______________________________ It took only fifteen minutes for the texts to come pouring in.

Kevin: Why are your detectives here? Did you send them? I told you I’m fine.

Kevin: Peralta has broken one of our cups and cut himself trying to clean the mess.

Kevin: Santiago keeps trying to make me more comfortable. I’m laying in a pit of pillows, I think she brought her own.

Kevin: Raymond.

Kevin: Peralta spilled a cup of tea on me, it was scalding. I’ve been assaulted. Are you feeling proud, Raymond?

Kevin: Santiago won’t stop apologizing.

Kevin: Raymond Kevin: Raymond Kevin: Raymnd

Voicemail from Detective Peralta: Hey Cap-u-tan everything’s greeeaat um…(Amy can be heard wailing in a faraway room) so Kevin locked himself in your bedroom and won’t come out so we’ve kind of run out of ideas. We’re uh, not giving up but he can’t really respond so we dunno if he’s passed out, sleeping, or ignoring us. So maybe give us his number? He’s been texting a lot. Amy tried to take his phone to get him to relax but he’s like suuper tall. Anyways…everything’s great!

Kevin: Raymond I need you.

He got his coat. ________________ “I see everything is indeed "great” just as you said.“ Raymond said sarcastically as he entered his home to find it looking like a tornado had ran through it. There was broken glass and blood on the counter and sink, Kevin’s favorite chair had a large spot of liquid splattered across it and there were piles of papers on the floor. Raymond had picked two up, they were both in Kevin’s writing. One said "GO AWAY.” In thick black marker underlined thrice and the other said “Santiago if you attempt to prevent me from talking to my husband it will be the last the thing you do. I am feverish and you are so terrifyingly small.” In neat script. Raymond almost smiled.

“That’ll be enough you two. I’ll be home for the rest of the day as you clearly cannot be trusted to look after Kevin’s well being for even a short amount of time. Go back to work.” After a chorus of 'sorry captain’ Peralta and Santiago left, arguing under their breath. Raymond needed to thank them somehow, send them a fruit basket. He quickly made the journey upstairs and knocked on their bedroom door. “Kevin? It’s me.” He waited for a single moment before taking out the mini lock picking set he’d borrowed from Gina (why she had such a thing he had no idea) and opening the door himself. “Kevin?” He was slightly panicked that his husband had passed out as Peralta suggested but he found him in bed sleeping, one arm where Raymond would usually sleep and the other clutching a phone close to his chest. Raymond breathed a sigh of relief and went into their bathroom to wash his hands before taking the phone from Kevin and placing it on their nightstand. His husband opened his eyes as if panicked but calmed immediately at the sight of Raymond’s face. “Mm.” He hummed and Raymond could tell there was no intention to speak behind it. “Are you alright?” Kevin nodded and yawned, looking ready to sit up. “No, no, I’m here now. What can I get you?” Kevin fetched his phone.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Tea would be much appreciated. Kevin Cozner PHD: However, I don’t appreciate you siccing your goons out on me.

“I’m sorry Kevin. I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of. And I admit I was a bit hurt that you didn’t want for me to stay with you…I didn’t know they’d be so totally ineffective.”

Kevin Cozner PHD: I didn’t want you to stay with me because I didn’t think you’d like it and I didn’t feel I needed it. Your work is very important to you and I didn’t want to confine you here for no reason. If I really felt I needed you I would have called you back, the same way I did just now to clear those animals out of our house.

He was typing slowly, not rushed, wanting to get the words right. Raymond didn’t want to interrupt but he had to comment. “Even if work is important to me it’s not as important as you, Kevin.” Kevin smiled and Raymond was glad he said it.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Next time let’s talk about this. We can both get caught up in the competition, in who can hold out in a painful situation the longest. Sometimes we forget that we can just, talk. It’s easy to do when things are fine but we both handle stressful situations by retreating into ourselves, by shutting people out. We need to be there for each other and accept each other’s help. I know you love me Raymond and I love you the same but I can’t help but think you shouldn’t have to feel that your only option to get me to seek help from you is sending two bumbling detectives to destroy our house. And I shouldn’t have to feel that my being sick is an inconvenience to you. We need to communicate more, understand?

Raymond nodded slowly while reading and at the end he wrapped Kevin in a hug despite his sickly protests. When he let go he said “your fever is way too high, you’re burning up.” Kevin nods. “You’re burning up and you still wrote all that so eloquently?” Another nod. “Kevin Cozner, I think I may be in love with you.” Kevin raised one eyebrow and texted him again.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Then as your first act of love fetch me tea, please.

Raymond nodded and first ran a washcloth under cold water to put on Kevin’s forehead. His husband accepted it without complaint, smiling softly. Raymond watched him for a minute before turning the lights to dim and heading downstairs to make his favorite tea.