#being a little bit whimsical if you will

[thespiffiestone]

throwing a buncha doodles of my silly guys into a post because i can :)

[2demon2slayer]

something something yoriichi is the fire god

[waywardsalt]

i made this a few months ago for a discord and i figured i might as well share it here too

[axolozzy]

i love how sometimes literally the only way i can get my dog to something is by barking at her and what’s even better is how much that pisses my family off

[deadrlngers]

silly how astarion is the one with my most high approval rn + stop trying to flirt your way into this relationship we are going to be besties till the day the sun will stop shining in the sky

[ellecdc]

Poly moonwater or marauders (up to you! I can see both being cute, though marauders would be interesting since theyre all gryffindors) x a partner who thinks snakes are the cutest, and has a really big python of her own? And she often takes it on “walks” (walking outside while the snake is lounging on her arms to get some sun) or chills in her room with the snake just resting on or beneath her robes (calmer snakes in my experience love to slither up sleeves and wrap around abdomens and collars)? My snake loves doing that, and sometimes it gives people a fright haha. My snake is quite large, but just the cutest and most curious thing, she’s helped many of my friends get over a minor phobia before. She also contracts her muscles (not enough to hurt) when wrapped around a hand, which feels like a little hug. LOL sorry for rambling, I love my sweet baby (5 foot long apex predator) so much. Bonus points if reader is very sweet and smiley, just the last person you’d expect to have a big “scary” snake.

this was such a cute and funny request. and, funnily enough, almost immediately after I received it I started seeing this creator with her snake on TikTok and was like "this is perfect!!!"

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader who apparently has a pet snake that her boyfriends didn't know about

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair she can put up in a bun, best friend Barty being a fucking menace, snakes?

Remus let out a breath of relief when he finally made out your form sitting contently under a tree on the castle grounds with your face shoved in a book.

He couldn’t help but worry about you a little bit; he worried about James and Sirius too, mind you, but something about you struck him as a little too pure, a little too lovely to be navigating this scary world on your own.

He knew you could, he just didn’t think you should have to.

It appeared Sirius and James were just as grateful at locating you when Sirius took off in a run to join your little makeshift picnic.

Remus almost felt bad for the interruption of what was likely a very peaceful sanctuary you had built for yourself. But knowing you, you’d be just as happy to have them join you.

Your smile at Sirius’ form as he made it to your blanket let Remus know he was quite right in his prediction.

“Hi Siri!” You greeted tranquilly, causing James to let out a small breath of awe as he all but dragged Remus the rest of the way over to you. 

“Hey Angel!” James called to you as Remus offered you an apologetic smile turned grimace. 

“Do you mind if we join you?” Remus had the grace to ask.

“Of course not; I’d love it if you did.” You responded quickly, shifting over to make room for them all on your blanket.

“Of course you’d be so gracious; our sweet girl.” Sirius cooed at you, but as he went to pull you towards him by your shoulders, he let out an embarrassing shriek as he launched himself away from you. 

“Godric’s saggy balls, Pads; what is the problem?” James asked bemusedly as he took over Sirius’ now vacated spot beside you.

“She’s got a sodding snake in her hair!” Sirius screeched as he pointed at you.

James’ head whipped back towards you to see that, sure enough, there was a medium sized snake seemingly almost curled up in your messy bun.

“Don’t move, Angel.” James said seriously as he stood carefully and brandished his wand. “I’ll get it off of you.”

“Oh, there’s no need, James. She’s very docile.” You said simply as if you hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of your boyfriends.

“Docile!?” Sirius bellowed at the same time as James questioned “she?” 

Remus smirked at his boyfriends’ theatrics, though felt momentarily ashamed he hadn’t realised you owned a snake, or…had a snake friend.

“Is she your pet, dove?” He asked finally, fighting the urge to grimace as the snake curled further around your bun and moved its head to sit at your temple. 

“Yes; her name is Tinkerbell.”

“Tinkerbell?!” James and Sirius chorused.

Remus chuckled at the boys letting their Pureblood show. “Like the fairy from Peter Pan?”

He was rewarded with a pleased smile as you moved your eyes back towards him. “Exactly.”

“How long have you been living with a snake?” Sirius asked severely, causing Remus to nudge him with his knee warningly.

“Barty got her for me for my birthday.” You responded simply.

“You’ve had that thing for months?” James asked, finally earning a swat from Remus.

“She’s not a thing, Jamie.” You gently chided, offering the snake your finger who wrapped her head around it reminding Remus of a cat rubbing up against their owner's leg. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen her before; she’s almost always with me.”

Sirius just let out another horrified squawk as Remus fought the urge to let out a full body shiver.

“You carry… Tinkerbell around with you often?” He queried carefully.

You hummed in acknowledgement as your hand fell back to your book. “She usually wraps around my elbow under my robes, but lately she’s enjoyed nesting in my hair. I think maybe now that it’s getting warmer, she likes to sit in the sun.”

“We really need to talk to Junior about gifting our Angel with dangerous animals.” James muttered quietly to Remus and Sirius as your attention turned towards the devil your best friend himself.

“Hi Treasure! Hi Tink!” Barty called you you; his voice raising an octave when greeting your reptilian friend.

Remus winced when he noticed a slightly larger snake hung casually over Juniors shoulders that seemed to be considering the group as they approached.

“Introducing your sweet girl to the boys?” He asked as he sat beside you on the blanket; speaking about your three boyfriends as if they weren’t there.

“Yes. I don’t think it’s gone particularly well, admittedly.” You responded serenely, reaching out to gently boop Barty’s snake’s nose with your finger. 

“It’s going fine.” Sirius argued; never willing to show signs of weakness in front of a Slytherin. 

Unfortunately for Sirius, Barty seemed to call his bluff. “You’re not afraid of a little old snake, are you Black?”

Sirius scoffed derisively. “I go to school with enough of them, don’t I?”

“Okay, why don’t you pet Mr. Smee here then?” Barty taunted, holding out his large reptilian friend to Sirius. “He won’t bite.” He promised with a Cheshire cat smile.

Sirius looked at Barty sceptically before his eyes nervously darted towards you. 

“Mr. Smee is very friendly, Siri.” You encouraged.

Sirius tried to smile at you before he returned his stormy eyes to Barty. “I don’t make it a habit of petting slimy animals, Junior.”

Barty scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “He’s not slimy, Black; he’s scaley.”

Seemingly pacified, Sirius reached out a cautious hand towards Mr. Smee.

Sirius made a garbled heaving sound as he slowly pulled his hand away from the snake's body where strings of slime connected his fingers to the reptile.

“He is slimy!”

“That’s because I soaked him in slime!” Barty cackled. “You’re so easy, Black. Gods, I should spend more time with the lot of you; this was fun.”

And with that, Barty stood from the blanket, kissed Tinkerbell on the head and then pressed one to your head as well before he skipped off.

“He’s a real menace.” James grumbled as Sirius transfigured a piece of paper into a paper towel and wiped at the slime on his fingers.

“I thought that was very brave of you, Sirius.” You praised him, and almost all of the contempt colouring Sirius’ face faded away as he looked at you lovingly.

“Thanks dolly.”

Thankfully, Tinkerbell remained content in your hair, and the boys remained content pretending there wasn’t a snake on their girlfriend’s head for the rest of the afternoon.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[moonstruckme]

Ugh, Whimsical!reader x James (not together yet) where anytime she says something he just has the most lovesick look on his face and Sirius is like “we’ve lost him, boys” but then reader quips back with something about looking at those you’re comfortable and friendly with boosts your seratonin and you’re glad to have James look at you if it makes him happy

Thanks for requesting babe!

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 932 words

“You seem like you’re feeling better today, Remus,” you say, passing him a cup of tea. You give one to Sirius, too, then James. It’s got a couple of little flowers floating on the top, James notices. Adorable. 

Remus looks a bit caught offguard. “I am, thanks. How’d you know?” 

“Your aura’s looking less gray than usual.” 

Sirius snickers. “Just like you to have a gray aura, Moons. Boring.” 

You settle on the couch beside James, crossing your legs underneath you. “I don’t think Remus is boring,” you say, voice soft and airy as dandelion fluff. “His color often just looks a tad sapped. It’s bluer today.” 

Remus seems to perk up a bit at your appraisal. He does look well, James thinks, but your noticing improves his color even more. Remus doesn’t like being viewed like a helpless, afflicted lamb, and you never have treated him like one, save whatever you put in his tea (it takes a few minutes longer to make than the rest of yours, though James pretends not to notice). 

James watches you watching Remus, and his heart gives a happy little throb. You’re so kind, considerate in ways which you play off as incidental, but he can see the effort you put into taking care of the people in your life. He doesn’t know how you know half the things you do, but you’re always looking out for them. He’ll be waiting for Sirius to come home late at night and you’ll text to ask if everything is okay, or Remus will be having one of his worse days and you’ll show up unannounced with chocolates and juniper bound with twine to “cleanse” their flat, whatever that means. Or when James was sick with the flu a few weeks ago, and Remus and Sirius both swore they hadn’t said a word to you but he’d woken from a nap to find you sitting beside him with soup and a very strong elderberry tea. He’s fairly sure your presence had healed him just as much as the sustenance. You have that effect on him. 

“Do we all have auras?” Sirius asks, and James comes out of his reverie to find his friend watching him with a poorly concealed smirk. He supposes he’s had that look on his face again. Lovestruck.

“Of course.” You give Sirius a funny smile, like this should be obvious. “Everyone has an aura,” you say, “we just can’t all see it all of the time.” 

“What’s yours look like?” James asks. 

Your lips part in surprise as you turn to look at him, your knee bumping his thigh. “I can’t see my own. I’d have to ask someone else.” 

“What about mine?” Sirius asks. 

You turn back to him. James feels the loss. “Right now, it’s mostly orange.” 

“Right now?” 

“Yours shifts a lot. A couple of minutes ago, it was pinker.” You tilt your head, considering. “You’re very sunset-y today, Sirius.” 

Sirius grins, and James knows that whatever his friend may think about auras, he’s going to carry that compliment with him for the rest of the week. “And what about our Jamesie? What’s his aura like?” 

“Oh, James’ almost never changes.” You look over at him with a small smile on your face. Maybe James is flattering himself, but he feels as though there’s a faintly secretive quality to it, like some part of your smile is just for him. “His is always yellow. Though I have been noticing a bit more red than usual lately.” 

James isn’t sure he can speak with your eyes on him like this. You’re so lovely it’s choking him. Thankfully, Remus comes to his aid. 

“Is that a good thing?” he asks. “It shifting, I mean.” 

You don’t turn away from James like he expects you’re going to. You hold his gaze, that smile broadening just slightly. It has all the soft radiance of moonlight. 

“I don’t think so,” you say. “It’s not making him any less himself, it only means that something has changed.” 

“Good god,” Sirius stage-whispers to Remus. “Look at him, we’ve lost him completely. Bet it gets redder every time he looks at her.” 

“It does, a little.” Your eyes flit upwards, presumably to colors which he can’t see but he imagines his face is starting to match. “It might be the serotonin boost. Looking at people you care about will do that.” You set a hand on top of his, thumb stroking over the knuckle of his pinkie finger. James’ mouth is a desert. “I’m happy to have James look at me if it makes him happy.” 

Sirius lets out a short laugh. “I’m sure it does, sweetheart. He’s—” 

Remus must elbow him, because he goes blessedly silent. 

“I’ve been wondering,” Remus says mildly, “do you give us different kinds of tea? They always look different from each other.” 

“Oh, yes.” You finally break your gaze away from James’, but your hand stays atop his. It’s hardly a whisper of a touch, and yet he’s very concerned you’re somehow absorbing every thought and feeling he’s having through some freaky osmosis. It doesn’t seem wholly out of the realm of possibility for you. “I make them with different ingredients for each of you.” 

Sirius quirks an eyebrow. “In that case, can I try a new one next time? This one tastes a bit like dirt.” 

You shrug, nonplussed. “If you like, but it might not do as much for you.” 

“What do you put in them?” Remus asks curiously. 

You take a sip of your own tea. “Just what you need.” 

[beescake]

i am in love with your sollux i think

sollux love party :]

if you’re interested heres some of my personal fondness thoughts on him.. big warning for the mega long read ahead aye

as we alr know sollux's rejection of participation somewhat mirrors dave's rejection of heroism, but even without getting cooked to completion i still find sollux's character v compelling beyond the fourth wall

as someone who doesnt get a pinch of that Protagonist Sparkle to begin with, he can openly say he wants to leave anytime…. and unlike dave, he actually Can leave the scene anytime. but he can never be truly Free from the story via permanent character death like the other trolls.

his irrelevancy is indeed relevant - he’s there so u can point him out.

while his image is intended to be a relic of past internet subculture, his role is not only about hehehaha being a Chad or a 2000s cyberforum 2²chan haxxor ragequit gamebro.

his continued existence also happens to add a Bit to the overarching themes of homestuck! a Bit that gives him longer-lasting thematic relevance compared to the trolls who could’ve had more character potential but didnt get to survive beyond the main story.

the Bit in question:

his defiance contributes to the illusion of agency (treating characters = people with autonomy). he’s “aware” of it, and that recognition is worth noting enough to forcibly keep him alive as both reward and punishment.

considering how his personality & classpect is designed its definitely a very haha thing for hussie to do LOL. he’s made to be op asf so he's resigned to doing dirty work, gradually deteriorating along the way but never truly dying. as fans have mentioned before, him openly rejecting involvement after a while of grim tolerance is like if the sim u were controlling suddenly stopped, looked up and gave u the finger while u were step six into the walkthrough for Every Possible Sim Death Animation.

but since he’s just a sim… the more he hates it, the more you keep him around. if ur sim started complaining abt your whimsical household storyline you’d definitely keep that little fuck.

but yeah i like that sollux is just idling. the significance of his presence being that one dude who's always reliably Somewhere, root core Unchanged, no individual ambitions (possibly due to fear of consequence?), and design-wise: a staple representative product of his time.

compared to dirk's character, who has aged phenomenally well into the present (themes of control + AR + artificial intelligence, clearer exploration around navigating relationships/sexuality, infinite possibilities of self-splinterhood and trait inheritance), sollux's potential is really... contained. bitter. defeatist. limiting and frustrating in the way old tech is.

the world continues moving on to shinier, brighter, more advanced automated things - minimalist and metaverse or whatever but sollux is still here 🧍‍♂️ going woohoo redblue 3d. (tho personally i imagine his vibe similar to what the kids call cassette futurism on pinterest mixed w more grimy grunge insectoid influences eheh)

conceptually-speaking,

at the foundation of it all, the rapid pace of modern development was built off the understanding of ppl like sollux in the past, who were There actively at work while the dough was still beginning to rise

thats one of the cool things abt the idea of trolls preceding humans! the idea that trolls like sollux excelled back when lots of basic shit still needed to be discovered, building structures like networks and codes from scratch, and humans will eventually inherit and reinvent that knowledge in ways that become so optimized it makes the old manual effort seem archaic, slow, and labour-intensive.

but despite information/resources/shortcuts being more accessible now, much of the new highly-anticipated stuff released on trend still end up unfinished, inefficient, or expiring quickly due to cutting corners under severe capitalistic pressures

meanwhile, some of the old stuff frm past generations of thorough, exploratory and perfectionistic development still remains working, complete, and ever so sturdy.

those things continue to exist, just outside our periphery with either:

zero purpose left for modern needs (outdated/obsolete)

or

far too important to replace or destroy, bcs of its surprisingly essential and circumstantial usefulness in one niche specific area.

which are honestly? both points that sum up sollux pree well.

dramatic ending sorry. anw are u still on the fence or are u Sick abt him like me </3

[hedgehog-moss]

This particular patch of woods between two cow pastures is my favourite place to go when it's cold, because there's a little stream in there that meanders in a very whimsical way, dividing itself into spiderwebs of rivulets then becoming one again, winding around every other tree, it's delightful.

The stream is smaller but still here in summer, but I like it best in winter because it sounds so delicate! In some places it runs under a thin layer of ice with a light glassy sound; in others there are branches across the stream with dozens of little ice drops hanging underneath and making a tiny tinkling noise.

This patch of woods can be hard to find though, as it's tucked between two very large pastures that are completely featureless in winter. But Pandolf knows what we're looking for now, and since he's not distracted by cows in this season, he led us right to it.

Congratulations Pandolf! You are useful !

Although it's not a forest, it's easy to get lost here in winter when all my landmarks have disappeared, so I always follow the stream. One of the most recognisable spots is a hollow tree stump that looks very old and gnarled and full of character in summer, but sometimes in winter it almost entirely disappears and looks like a massive soft marshmallow (until you stumble upon it) (it hurts)

But as long as we don't lose the stream, we'll find our way back.

So of course I quickly got distracted and lost the stream. First because I found deer footprints, and they looked so much like Pampe's footprints I had to examine them and then look around suspiciously. (She wasn't following us. It was a deer) (I'm almost sure)

Second, because the woods kept stealing my hat.

Third, because Pandolf was being recklessly ambitious.

After walking in circles for a while, instead of the stream I found a barricade of shrubs forbidding access to a mysterious meadow. (Mysterious because I have never seen this place in summer. There are no charming small meadows here! It's pasture / tangled woods / pasture!)

I did not have time to inspect yet another fae meadow (and didn't feel very welcome here), so off we went again in search of the stream which is our only reliable landmark.

Then Pandolf found a way out all by himself:

He was very proud to show me the cow pasture, because in his naive dog logic he assumed I was still looking for the stream in order to follow it and leave the woods. In my better human logic, I was now looking for the stream because streams have no business disappearing like that and I was taking it personally.

How did we lose the stream, Pan? It's supposed to be everywhere!

What was annoying was that sometimes I could hear soft stream sounds, but saw nothing...

It took me a embarrassingly long time to figure out that the stream was, in fact, everywhere.

I'd never seen the stream frozen, let alone frozen + covered with snow! I suppose it was only frozen here and not near the pastures because there's less sun in the middle of the woods and the stream is wider and runs more slowly. It was a bit fun how every time we brushed aside some snow or found a snowless spot, we discovered a piece of the missing stream right underneath.

... well, at first it was fun but then it got a little bit worrying, because the ice was quite thin and cracked easily if I knocked on it politely, so the only thing keeping me from falling knee-deep in icy water with every step I took was the layer of compacted snow. Which I didn't trust. In places where I remembered the stream being wider (so most of the snow in these areas was potentially traitorous) I tried to walk very lightly and carefully, as if it's possible to tiptoe lightly with snow boots.

Pandolf just walked normally, completely unfussed about the fact that he was (literally) on thin ice.

I think he could tell I was nervous but didn't know why. He looked pretty confused whenever he turned around and saw me walking like an Andalusian horse over the same spots that he'd just trampled happily.

I'm fairly sure he knew all along that the stream was under our feet. I wish he'd told me! But maybe he could tell the ice wasn't cracking under his weight and he assumed I too knew what I was doing.

We made it out and I only stepped right through the snow and ice and into the horribly icy water once! One soggy boot was less bad than the fate I expected when I realised I was standing in the middle of this patch of woods surrounded by a pretend-snowy ground that was actually just water.

Then I reached my car and found that I could not open any door because they were frozen shut. This had also never happened to me in the middle of the day when I parked in the sun and I felt persecuted. Thankfully I was not too far from a farm; I told Pandolf to wait for me in the nearby pasture (in case of farm dogs; I didn't have his leash) (it was in the car, keeping warm next to my Thermos of tea) and I went to knock on the door and humbly ask to borrow some hot water. The woman who answered the door noticed my very wet boot and I think she initially assumed I wanted hot water because my foot was frozen and I'd already lost three toes, but I reassured her that it was only my car that needed unfreezing.

When I returned to my car with the bottle of hot water, I found Pandolf waiting for me in the pasture as instructed, but he didn't notice I was back until I'd almost reached the road because he was busy doing what he does best. (And it's not crawling under trunks.)

[acidinduceddaydreams]

First Real Love with Skz

Skz x reader who was in a toxic relationship before them

Synopsis: In which you experience love, the real kind, for the first time.

Warnings: major tw for trauma in terms of mental and physical violence done by a significant other. Please don’t read if this triggers you.

a/n : this fic was my baby for a long time. Now it’s yours, please look after it. I pray it brings some comfort to you!🫶🏼

Chan:

He feels honored that you choose him to be apart of your life.

Doesn’t pry too much when you bring up your past. If you want to tell him you will and he’s content with that.

He finds you so incredibly intoxicating. He can’t believe that someone would ever treat you badly. He would fight tooth and nail to make sure you’re always happy.

Literally so in love with your more childlike/ whimsical view of the world now that you two are together. Your personality definitely changed for the better once you met him and realized that being safe should be a prerequisite in a relationship.

Minho:

Doesn’t ask about your past relationship much. Mostly relies on you telling him about it when you feel comfortable enough.

Absolutely at your service!!! If you’re having particularly unpleasant or difficult feelings or are in your own head he’s at your beck and call. Whether that’s cooking for you, feeding you (which you won’t admit you like) or even leaving you alone for a bit.

The babies (his cats) are by your side 24/7 to ground you and get you out of your head because “ they wouldn’t want their mom to be sad.”

Changbin:

Cannot fathom the idea of someone hurting you in any way whatsoever without wanting to beat them up.

Unlike Minho, Changbin will not leave you alone if you’re having a particularly bad day. He thinks you’re so precious so he will never leave your side even in a particularly bad situation.

Binnie gives the best cuddles!!!! I am 100% convinced. Cuddling is a must! It’s like free therapy. (He, himself is free therapy but wbk) his hugs and cuddles make you forget about what’s going on in your head bc binnie’s cuddles make everything better.

Hyunjin:

He’s appalled that someone could treat another human with disrespect and violence let alone you!

He’s your number one fan in everything you do. Celebrates your small wins just as grandly as the big ones. Oh you ate breakfast today. Suddenly your name and “I’m so proud of you” is all he knows how to say.

Paints with you. Yk when you put the canvases parallel to each other and paint something for the other person. Yeah you guys do that all the time as a grounding technique but also just as a way to show love to one another.

Jisung:

He’s so good at reading body language!!!!!! He is absolutely crushed when things like holding your hand or stretching his hand out to touch your cheek make you flinch, not because he’s mad or angry at you but rather at the person who ever dared to treat you this way.

Wdym personal space? Hannie’s never heard of it. He’s so good at getting you out of you head. He knows what triggers you and sometimes know when something will trigger you before you do.

He’s so attentive bc why wouldn’t he be when he has you to look after. This boy loves you so much and he shows it every day.

Felix:

Bakes for you!!!!!! Sometimes you two bake together but he usually does it in advance to you telling him you need a little extra love today.

So in love with you. Tries to show you the beauty that you are because you haven’t felt beautiful till you met him. “Oh baby you look even more gorgeous than you did yesterday, I didn’t even know that was possible.”

You remind him of sunshine and he reminds you of the sun. Clearly neither of you can exist without the other.

Seungmin:

He is super playful and witty naturally but he tones down the more mocking side for your particularly hard days. He loves you in ways that you didn’t know you could be loved.

On regular days though you two share a similar sense of humor. He loves that about you. Never lets it go too far though.

Absolutely a sucker for you. The boys tease him for being soft for you but he doesn’t care. You’re his baby and he doesn’t care who sees that.

Jeongin:

This boy is so whipped for you. He always listens to you even if what you have to say is something he has no idea about. It feels so amazing to have someone listen to you. To truly listen. He makes it look easy even though listening and not interrupting is quite hard.

He’s not a big fan of skinship but your hands are always within his and he loves it. He’s genuinely so feral for it but you don’t need to know that.

He’ll make sure to show you how someone treats someone they love every day. He’s so attentive and that makes going to him whether it’s with a problem or just to talk so easy because you know there’s no judgment from him.

[euphoricfilter]

the silent ‘i love you’

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: sometimes you don’t need words

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: fluff!!!! just very soft and nice and easy to read for tonight. intensional lowercase. sort of sleepy thoughts about love <3

where you can find my other works :D

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

some days jungkook simply felt like those three words weren’t enough. that the warm glow of his fragile soul couldn’t scream loud enough for your own precious existence to know how much he truly loved you.

that the whispered words of love as the both of you woke, or a gentle kiss before you both slept and met in your dreams— it simply was only the surface of how he felt. that the silent ‘i love you’ the both of you shared each day was somehow louder than the words themselves.

tender souls touching in a whimsical dance between your existence.

tangled so tight, unmoving, seeping out of you with that fluttery sort of love.

the kind of love that pulls a smile onto your lips at the mere thought of them. gentle touch enough to have your skin alight. obsessive, itching greed consuming every fibre of your being, needing them closer than humanly possible. bodies pressed together and heart beats in sync, tied together by a string of fate and life times you shared before this one.

and some days neither of you had to say ‘i love you’ but that didn’t mean the love wasn’t there. that either of you loved the other any less than you had the day before. or more than you would tomorrow. because it was ever-growing. blooming in both your chests, a flower that would live through all of eternity.

it would be him waking before you, purple and blue toothbrushes sat beside one another in the cup on the sink. or how on some days he’d pick your shower gel over his own. for no other particular reason that he loved everything about your existence, that he felt that little bit closer to you in the hours you had to part.

or remembering to tuck one of your hairties in one of his pockets, just in case.

the same hair tie you’ll find in the washing machine days later, smile tugging at your lips. because as much as you remind him to take everything out his pockets before putting them into the washing machine, there were things you could never get mad over. not when he thinks of you, even when you’re not there. a silent show of care that you never bring up because that was his secret to keep, dissolved into the back of your mind for safe keeping.

he likes to hold your hand as you cross the road, fingers interlaced. because he knows sometimes you get too caught up in your own head, unaware of the wider world around you. so he keeps you glued to the pavement before tugging you across the road. fingers squeezing yours when he knows the both of you are back to safety and you’ll let him pull you around, blind trust in him to take you where you need to go

you like picking him up from work, sat outside on a bench with a box of treats for the walk home. and he would indulge you, even if he had the car parked a block away. not caring if it would mean he had to walk the next morning. because he would never abandon those gentle moments with you, shoulders knocking as you kiss sweet cream from his lips, desperate to hear about his day just as much as you want to share yours

you liked to say ‘i love you’ through the stars. tugging him to the roof of the apartment building, legs tangled as you lay on a blanket.

you both look up at the sky.

so many questions slipping off your tongue. where you talk of fate and destiny and how you loved to believe that two souls so intricately intertwined like your own was probably crafted by something as beautiful as the stars, or another celestial being that just knew what the future held. speckles of fine stardust crafted and moulded, so, when you found a mortal body there would be no doubt he was the one for you, just as you were the one for him.

he likes sending you photos of cats. adopting the habit of carrying a small bag of treats around with him; though neither of you have a pet.

he remembers the frown that would tug on your face each time you’d come across a stray. and he’d stand there for as long as you like as your fingers pet over fluffy heads and behind furry ears. another silent vow of love to a lonely creature.

you liked to pack him lunches, hours spent in the kitchen of a nighttime experimenting, because you never wanted him to have a dull meal. and he’d sit there at the table, reading as a piano piece plays over your phone. not a word spoken between the both of you, and some nights you scuttle his way with a fork-full of something for him to try.

there was love in the tv shows you watched together, the music you shared, the space you both lived in. the closet was a muddle of clothes and accessories that he liked to steal from you just like you steal from him. racks of both your shoes line the entry way of the apartment, collection of mugs a sudden birthday tradition that will go on for as long as you’re alive.

you lived in his mind like you lived in the plants around the house. or the posters you’d put on the walls. and he lived in your mind with gaming consoles and photos of you hung up that he had taken, loved and forever cherished; thriving in the memory of you and how much he loved you then and how much he loves you now.

jungkook had tried to find a better word.

hours spent laying in bed, with your head on his chest, moon spilling into the room as he mulls over the thought of you.

how he likes how warm you are, how he likes sharing this space with you. that he’s glad he’s found you, grateful that you exist within the same time line as him.

your silly little stories of a wonderful sweet sort of love filling his own mind— because maybe you really were crafted for one another. and even if he forgets three simple words, the both of you know love lives within the sphere of your existence.

because maybe that’s what the both of you are when you’re together. maybe even in those moments you’re apart. perhaps you’re the epitome of the word love and that’s why all the silent ‘i love yous’ equal more than words ever will

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

[alwaysmicado]

we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?” 

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.” 

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him. 

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall. 

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist. 

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave. 

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist

tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

[ubercharge]

marcille's pokemon team! i imagine she's acquired a variety of mons over the years but some of them have been with her longer than others, like the dragonite she raised from dratini. azumarill is from before going to magic school. she got braixen as a fennekin for research purposes, and evolved it during the school period. cherrim is the newest of this bunch, caught and evolved during magic school.

(if you’re curious about why i picked certain pokemon for marcille, and names i gave her team members, it’ll be in the readmore!)

BRAIXEN (Ignis): an easy nod to magic school and her wooden staff. i wanted a straight-up fire type since marcille uses a bunch of explosive magic in the dungeon. i went with braixen instead of delphox because it has more of a youthfulness like marcille herself.

CHERRIM (Pom/Pomegranate): i definitely wanted a grass-type to reflect her staff being made of wood (with little green sprout), her green eyes, and her love of vegetables. cherrim having a bit of a food (cherry) element is a nice plus, and like braixen, it has a yellow colour like marcille’s blonde hair. i think marcille would also love cherrim’s cuteness, and its red accents match marcille’s own red accessories. it being flowery also matches marcille’s floral-enjoying aesthetic sensibilities. on top of that, i imagine it switching to its overcast form after marcille becomes the lord of the dungeon to reflect her mental state.

AZUMARILL (Tsunami): i wanted a more whimsical-looking pokemon to show off marcille’s cuteness, and a fairy-type adds to the magical feel. but even if azumarill looks silly and marcille can be silly, they really pack a punch. scarvi raiders will appreciate this beautiful round friend with a nod.

DRAGONITE (Stratus): rather than just have marcille’s team reflect her cuter aspects, it was important for me to include a member with competitive viability (which generally means the mon itself has a bunch of strengths). before i considered that aspect, i thought about including dragonair as a reference to marcille’s coatl monster, but i went with dragonite in the end for a cute-looking friend with a lot of strength. marcille has, after all, studied magic for a long time and is really good at it. It’d certainly make sense for her to have an objectively strong mon like dragonite on her team, especially considering the position dragons have in dunmeshi’s world and culture (and they were once at the top of the food chain in pokemon too...).

not pictured:

ALCREMIE (Nectar): a suggestion from my friend i really liked, partly because it’s food. and that’s obviously funny. a sweet-looking pure fairy-type (red accents too!) ties into marcille’s enjoyment of sweets and adds more of that fairy/magic feel. as for which colour variant hers would be, i’ll leave that up to you guys to decide. and a funny little sidenote: marcille wanted a fairy for herself like the canaries, but was daunted and disgusted by the requirements to create one. the homunculus the fairies start out as looks like a little blob of a guy, and alcremie’s pre-evo milcery is... well.

because of the homunculus stuff, i imagine she hatched Nectar from an egg and evolved it before magic school!

GOURGEIST (Ambrosia): while braixen works as a cute magic school reference to magic, gourgeist has more of a witchy, spooky feel. marcille isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, after all. but since this is her team from the start, gourgeist is a nice way to wink at a darker witch aesthetic compared to her other mons without fully giving away marcille’s eventual transformation. it still has a fitting whimsical design, plus its broomstick likeness can be seen as another nod to ambrosia.

Ambrosia would, of course, have been obtained as a pumpkaboo and raised until evolving in line with marcille's staff creation in dunmeshi

honorary mentions: ponyta/rapidash (for her horse love), milotic (for the quetzalcoatl), rotom (suggested by my friend who likes the mental image of her putting senshi in rotom wash), arboliva (italian), liligant (floral + grass-type), foongus (grass-type, reference to walking mushrooms), deerling (grass-type, cute, a deer is vaguely horselike), morpeko (silly/cute, has a “dark” form like cherrim)

dungeon lord: she would have control over all the mons in the dungeon without them being “hers”, so i didn’t plan for her team to change upon her becoming dungeon lord.

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.4

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: brief mention of a sexual encounter (non-explicit)

The following week-and-a-half was both chaotic and painful for (likely everyone involved, but specifically for) Remus Moony Remus (& Moony).

Remus (under the watchful glare of one Sirius Orion Black) apologized to James for speaking so rudely to him, and to Peter for upsetting the room.

Pete was quick to forgive him, whilst James just asked, “are you ready to talk about it?”. Remus replied no, James said “talk to me when you are”, and the two haven’t spoken much since. 

The closer and closer Remus got to the full moon, the more incessant Moony became. Even if you weren’t around, Moony was whining after you. When you were around, Moony was begging for you. 

Remus, much to Moony and Sirius’s (never mind his own) chagrin, would hear your soft lilting voice moving down the hall speaking to James, and would quickly grab Amelia and find the closest broom closet. 

After the 3rd or 4th time, he was starting to look like a horny pre-teen who just discovered playboy magazines.

But while Amelia was on her knees and his hand was on the back of her head, he could muffle the howling and yipping of the angry wolf for at least the moment, and it felt like enough.

Until it wasn’t.

“Stop, stop.” He groaned as he pulled away from Amelia’s wandering hands. She looked quite lovely – flushed, slightly damp and pupils blown wide, but Remus couldn’t appreciate much of anything with the chorus of ��Need, need, need, need. Mine, mine, mine, mine’ inside his mind.

“What is it, baby?” She cooed at him. Remus had to fight back a grimace at the nickname.

“I ca-I can’t do this right now.” He said, bringing his hand to his mouth; he suddenly felt queasy.

“Are you sure? I can be a good girl for you.” She purred.

“No.” he said as he flung the door to the broom closet and nearly collided with you.

Dammit, how were you everywhere!?

“Oh, hello Remus! Are you alright?” You asked him.

Mine. 

Remus could only let out a keening sound in response – hand still pressed to his mouth.

Your eyes seemed to flit around his being – not actually looking at him but around him as your mouth pinched in concern.

“No, not alright at all.” You answered your own question, speaking more to yourself than anything. 

“Rem?” Amelia said as she rubbed his back and spotted you in front of him.

“Oh, L/N,” Amelia said with a chuckle. Remus felt his hackles rise immediately. “Your aura looks wonderful today.” 

Her voice was filled with contempt, but your eyes never left Remus’ form. 

“Here,” you said to Remus as you began to dig through your book bag. You missed the ‘tosser’ that Amelia threw your way, but Remus didn’t.

Moony wanted her dead.

“This should help, Remus. It’s mallowsweet, shrivlefig juice, powdered moonstone, and rosewater. I think it’s just what you need.”

Your voice was so soft and sweet, and Moony was so quiet while you spoke. Remus almost wanted to tell you to forget the vial you were offering as he felt his migraine lifting just from listening to you talk.

Remus might as well have been a puppet as he raised his hand to take the vial from you – he didn’t even know what this concoction was for, but if you kept looking at him like that? He’d drink forty of them.

You dropped the vial into his palm, keeping your fingers to yourself as if you were somehow aware he was afraid to touch you.

“I hope you feel better, Remus.” You breathed softly, parting from him with a gentle smile as you floated back down the hallway.

“Gods, she is such an airhead.”

Remus suddenly understood James a little bit better.

“Amelia,” he started as he turned to stare daggers at the girl, “don’t make fun of my friends.”

And he stalked off down the hall, opposite the way you’d just went.

It was Thursday evening, and there were only two more nights until the full. Remus sat at the table with his head in his hands as he tried to swallow against his gag reflex.

Amelia Bones was staring daggers at him from the Hufflepuff table, but it was you, speaking so sweetly to James across from him, that had his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.

Mine, pack! Pack! Pack! Mine, pack. 

Remus mentally grabbed The Wolf by the scruff, causing a pitiful whine and quiet whimpering to follow. He was too tired and too close to the full for this.

James was speaking animatedly to you about the niffler’s from class today, but Remus Moony could tell your mind was elsewhere.

“One moment, Jamie.” You said quietly to your friend as you began to walk away. Suddenly, you were standing behind Moony Remus.

“Excuse me, Peter. Would you mind terribly if I sat here?” You asked sweetly, pointing to the sliver of bench between the two of them. Sirius’ eyes flew to meet Remus’ from his spot across from him.

“Oh! Uhm, no, Y/N, not at all.” Peter agreed as he moved to create a space for you beside Remus.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you were suddenly sat between Remus and Peter, directly across from James who was placed beside Sirius. 

Remus felt his shoulders sag in immediate relief to have you so close to him. Horrifyingly, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He tucked his chin into his chest, knowing Sirius’ gaze hadn’t left him.

You pushed your ankle up against Remus’ as you continued discussing the pilfering little creatures from your class with James as the first tear fell. 

He wanted to be angry. But he couldn’t bring himself to.

He wanted to resent you. But he couldn’t bring himself to.

Because you were kind and sweet and understanding and patient. And he was the monster.

And somehow, you knew all of that. And yet, you sat here, beside him, and offered him what little comfort you could.

Remus was fucked.

You were at the quidditch game Friday evening. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin, so you appeared to be present only to cheer on James.

It was sweet.

Remus was fucked.

Amelia came too, which pissed Remus off seeing as Hufflepuff wasn’t playing either, but it gave him the chance to not sit there staring at the space beside you wishing he was selfish enough to take it.

Her company wasn’t as nice as yours, but Remus supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The weather kind of sucked – it wasn’t raining but the air was thick with fog and mist, and visibility was low. Remus wasn’t sure how the players managed between the mist, the wind on their brooms, and their sweat, but the game raged on.

“Wait, so the little braids that you find on horses randomly...” Peter asked you from a few bleachers below Remus.

Remus kept his eyes on the players he could make out through the fog and pretended he wasn’t listening to your conversation.

“Yes, those are nargles. They appear at night and twist the hairs of horses or unicorns to create stirrups and leads so that they can ride them. It’s important you don’t undo them, though, as nargles may become frustrated that they have to redo their work. They are also more likely to return to ride your horse again instead of outright taking them for their own if you respect their work. Tricky little thieves, they are.”

“Huh.” Pete offered brightly. Remus smiled widely to himself. “Well, I suppose they also look pretty in the horse’s hair. Might as well leave ‘em.”

Remus felt a warmth radiating in his chest. He couldn’t see either of you as he kept his gaze on the game, but he could clearly picture your kind and airy smile, and how Peter had his body turned to you to ensure you had his full intention.

Moony loved it too.

Pack. Good. Good. Good. PaCk GooD. 

Remus began to think maybe he could handle this. Maybe he could keep you here, sort of at arm’s length but still within his reach. Maybe he could accept you as a friend and...pack member if that’s what Moony insisted on calling you.

Maybe this didn’t need to be all or nothing, maybe this could just be...

But Remus’ train of thought stopped as Moony began raging within his mind. Remus started to panic, thinking maybe he miscalculated the next full moon; he’s not been wrong about a moon once in his entire life, but fuck, stranger things have happened.

He looked to the sky, and even through the fog, Remus could tell the moon was nowhere near risen. He was also very sure the full moon was tomorrow night.

“Look out!” A player shouted from the pitch as Remus spotted a very large ball careening its way over...straight for you.

Mine. Mine. Mine MINE MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE.

Remus’ mind went blank as he stood from his place. Suddenly, he was standing in front of you as the ball hit him in the middle of his back. He grunted in mild discomfort, but it was far less damage than what could have been had it made contact with your face.

Your face, which was looking up at Remus with your mouth parted in gentle surprise, and your eyes searching his person.

“Remus! Are you alright, mate?” Peter cried in shock.

The whistle sounded on the pitch as players flew their way over to the Gryffindor benches to retrieve the ball. 

“Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad.” He offered, though his eyes never left yours.

“Moony, what the fuck was that?!” Sirius called from his broom.

“What was what? Aren’t you players supposed to aim the ball at each other?” He snarked back.

“Mate,” Pete whispered to him, “you apparated.”

He...he apparated!?

Hogwarts had ancient magical wards lining the school grounds and castles. One such ancient ward was an anti-apparition ward. No one should be able to apparate in or out.

Ignoring all of that, however...7th years still hadn’t been taught how to apparate yet.

Well...Remus didn’t know what to say about that. So instead, he asked “are you alright?”

You looked between him and his right shoulder for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Remus. Thank you. I’m very sorry about all of this.”

But before he could say - oh, that’s okay, or that’s not necessary, or even what the hell are you apologizing for? - you were out of your seat and leaving the stands.

“What did you say to her?” James barked at Remus from his broom beside Sirius, glare turning stormy.

“Nothing mate,” Sirius answered for him, “he just asked if she was alright.”

“Was she?” James asked, eyes softening slightly.

“Yeah, she’s okay.” Remus answered.

James seemed to analyze Remus’ face before offering him a curt nod and flying back to the centre of the pitch. 

“McGonagall’s going to be so pissed if you broke those wards, mate.” Peter muttered as the game resumed.

Sure, Remus thought, let’s focus on that. 

McGonagall was kind of pissed about the wards, but she told Remus it was but a minor tear within the grid and may be repairable. 

Seeing as the burst of accidental magic was...well...accidental (and lunar in nature, though he figured it was best they all ignored that little fact for the time being), he was off the hook for the damage.

He was the victim of relentless torment, however.

“Lord Rem, are you reading ahead to make the rest of us look bad?” Lily smirked from her place in the Gryffindor common room. 

Remus groaned into his book as he pulled it to the face.

“It was an accident.” He muttered miserably.

“Sure. Just watch your back, Lupin; I’m still top of the class.” She fired at him with a smirk.

The common room continued thinning out until it was only Lily and James playing wizards chess, Sirius and Peter playing exploding snap, and Remus trying to read his book as his muscles and joints swelled and groaned under the pull of the moon. Tomorrow night, and then he’d be free for the rest of the cycle.

Well, not free, seeing as now he was also plagued by you.

Suddenly, the group of five could hear the portrait of the Fat Lady screeching at someone in the hall.

“I will do no such thing; I am not a secretary” the muffled voice spat.

Sirius and Remus shared a confused look before the former stood and made his way to the portrait hole. 

“Reggie?” Sirius asked quietly as the portrait swung open to reveal the form of his younger brother.

“Uhm, hi, Sirius. I... I was wondering if Potter was here?”

Sirius’ head reared back slightly as he blinked over at James.

“Uhm...yes? He is.” 

Regulus sighed. “May I speak to him?”

Sirius slowly moved aside and gestured for Regulus to come in.

“Hello Regulus.” James said politely, looking bemusedly at Sirius for a brief moment before standing.

“Potter. My apologies for the...intrusion. But I’m wondering if you’ve seen Y/N.”

Remus’ book fell into his lap as he sat straight in his chair, hands gripping the arm rests. Remus had heard from Sirius (who heard from James) that you and Regulus were quite close. This at least explained why Remus’ friends and yours had never intertwined before.

“No, no. Not since the game, why?”

Regulus sighed again as he grimaced. “She’s not in her dorms. One of her dormmates asked me where she went – apparently, she told them it was important for her to be ‘away from the castle’ for the weekend. I was hoping you knew where she went.”

Remus ran up to the Marauder’s dorm room and accio’d the Marauder’s Map. He scanned the parchment and, sure enough, you were nowhere to be found. He double, triple and quadruple checked to no avail. 

You were nowhere to be found on castle grounds.

Continue to chapter five here.

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