#hannah harris green | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldencherry5 · 1 year

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Straight A's

Yale!Harry/College!Harry

Summary: Allison had always been intelligent, extremely so. Since she was a little girl her parents had been told by her teachers they had a prodigy on their hands. And that they did. Top of her class all throughout high school, captain of the lacrosse team, and founder of a small non-profit she would pass on to her younger sister. She excelled in anything and everything…except for dating. She'd never kissed a boy, touched a boy, or even come close to one. She never minded before...Until Harry.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: 18+, oral(f recieving), praise kink.

Allison had alway been intelligent, extremely so. Since she was a little girl her parents had been told by her teachers they had a prodigy on their hands. And that they did. Top of her class all throughout high school, captain of the lacrosse team, and founder of a small non-profit she would pass on to her younger sister. She excelled in anything and everything…except for dating.

When you’re spending every waking moment studying, going to practice, or bulking up your transcript you don’t have much time for boys. And Allison certainly didn’t. It’s not that she didn’t want to, of course she thought some of the football players were cute, or some of her classmates in his AP Bio class. But, no one ever expressed interest, and besides…it’s not like she had the time for it anyway.

Fast forward to now, Allison had gotten into Yale, her dream school and the obvious choice since she was a legacy. Classes had started a month ago now and she was already loaded with essays and projects to complete. Despite her aching desire to go out and have fun and perhaps finally meet a guy, her only plans for the night were studying.

“Come on Ali, you study all the time, one night shouldn’t hurt.” Her roommate Hannah whined.

“I’d love to but if I don’t get this essay for American Poli done tonight I’m screwed.” Allison replied, packing her computer and essentials into her tote bag.

“Fine, suit yourself, I’m going out and I’m staying at Peter’s so don’t freak out when I don’t come home…” “Oh and Ali?”

“Yes?” She looked up, hand on the door handle ready to head to the library.

“If you see that cute lacrosse player again, talk to him!”

Allison blushed at her suggestion before waving goodbye and exiting the dorm.

She rushed up the stairs of the library, though she didn’t need to, considering it was 8 o'clock at night and the library usually wasn’t too busy after a certain hour.

The boy Hannah was referring to back at her dorm, Allison met, well saw, at her American politics class and she hasn’t stopped thinking about him since. His name was Harry Styles and he held her attention every time she should be paying attention in class. This may sound creepy but she always tried to sit behind him so she could admire his hair without him seeing her.

However one day while she was staring at the tattoos he exhibited on his arms his friend turned around and caught her. With a smirk on his face he nudged Harry and nodded towards her, causing her eyes to widen and throw her head down praying he didn’t catch her.

She was on a walk yesterday and happened to pass by the boys’ lacrosse practice where he was fantastic, not to mention incredibly hot. She sat in the bleachers pretending to study when really she just wanted to see Harry after he took his helmet off.

She had found a quiet spot in the corner to pull out her computer and get to work. She had been putting off this essay for a week now and it wasn’t getting any easier no matter how hard she thought.

Allison jumped at the sound of a cough from the other end of the row of tables and shot her head up. What she was met with was a head of brown curly hair, and green eyes staring down at his computer. He looked warm yet attractive in his Yale Lacrosse hoodie and black glasses.

He could help me she thought, he was probably working on the same essay in fact. The one she had been staring at for forty five minutes without starting.

After debating in her head for 3 minutes over whether or not she should go over, she finally decided her grades mattered more than protecting her introverted self.

She strolled over to him trying to act as calm as possible, his head not lifting as she got closer, too immersed in his work. She questioned her decision with every step she took.

This is so stupid

He’s gonna think you're an idiot

God I should just turn around

“Uh Hi, Harry right?” She asked, a small smile on her face,

He lifted his head up, pulling his hood off his head, allowing his gorgeous curls to flow freely. “Yeah, what’s up?” He smiled back, resting his hands on the edge of the table. His eyes trailed from the headband holding her long brown hair back to the collar over her Yale sweatshirt, to the tiny pleated skirt he had a feeling she didn’t realize was so tiny.

“We’re in the same american politics class, I’m Al-.”

“Allison…I know.” He smirks, almost winking but not quite going that deep into his cheekiness.

“Yeah…anyway! I don’t know if you started the essay but I’ve been putting it off for way too long and it’s due tomorrow, and I’ve been staring at it for like forty-five minutes so I might be totally screwed…Do you think you could help me out a little?” Her voice got quieter as she went on, becoming shy and unconfident in her question.

His smile only grew though, bunny teeth showing just a tad. “Yeah sure, bring your stuff over here and I’ll help you out, love.” Allison blushed at the pet name and thanked him before jogging back to her desk and clumsily grabbing her stuff.

She sits down next to him not knowing that for the next two hours they’d be inching closer together all the while starting and finishing her essay.

“Is this good?” She pointed to her concluding paragraph and he moved his eyes from his computer to hers. She scanned his furrowed eyebrows and his fingers pinching his bottom lip.

“It’s great…really…and it looks like you're all done now.” He smiled, “Feel better?”

“Much.” She giggled. “Thank you again, I owe you big time.” He just shook his head and squinted his eyes in a tranquil expression.

“Can I walk you home? It’s late and you shouldn’t be out alone.” He asked, putting his stuff into his backpack, getting ready to leave.

“Oh you really don’t have to, I feel like I kept you from your work all night, wouldn’t want to be a bother.” She immediately declined, feeling incredibly nervous about her crush walking her back to her dorm.

“I want to, and I wasn’t gonna get much work done anyways, Friday nights are never productive.” She nods her head in agreement before swinging her tote bag around her shoulder and holding her textbook, that doesn’t quite fit, close to her chest.

They stepped into the crisp autumn air, her bare legs immediately growing goose bumps.

“You play lacrosse right?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah I do.” She smiled up at him.

“I’ve seen you girls practice a couple times, you’re really good.” He sent her a similar smirk down.

“You’re talking, You’re fantastic.” She scoffed before praising him, his ego boosting just a bit.

“Maybe I could tutor you in that too.” he nudged her hip with his own.

“Hey, I may be a procrastinator but I can shoot a pretty good backbreaker.” Her brows furrowed and he chuckled at her defense.

“Yeah me too…” He sent her a suggestive smirk she didn’t understand and she met him with a confused look. “You’re sweet.” He laughed at her innocence.

“Oh, what did you think of Professor’s lecture yesterday on mass media? I thought it was spectacular, he’s so engaging for a 70 something year old guy.” Her eyes widen and excitement leaks through her voice in the form of laughter at the end of her ramble.

“Fantastic, all my friends fell asleep though, I’m glad someone gets it.” He smiled that god damn smile at her again and she blushed…again.

They walked for another fifteen minutes, chatting about their classes and the crazy stuff their roomates have gotten into. She told him about Hannah trying to get her to go out and he told her about how Niall hasn’t gone a day at campus without taking a shot of tequila. He tells her about his constant struggles in psychology saying he got to the hippocampus and pretty much stopped there. They laugh about their lacrosse stories, teasing each other arguing About who’s better (Though she argues she knows the star lacrosse player who’s only a freshman can’t possibly be beat by her.)

Too soon, they come to her building and as their steps slow so do their words and laughter. She turns around at the door, facing him, not realizing how close he was to her.

“Um, I really appreciate your help tonight…let me know when you need a psych tutor.” She smiles her sweet smile at him.

He can’t help but stare at the frosty pink of her lips, or how her eyes sparkle in the lights under the awning of her dorm’s door, or how her teeth peek out to bite at her lip, making her look sexier than she most definitely knows.

He laughs at her dig, tilting his head down, chin hitting his chest. “Yeah whatever princess.”

“Princess?” her eyebrows raise, fist falling to her hip.

“Yeah…” He leaned down, brushing his lips against her cheek and leaving a chaste kiss there. “Princess…” he whispers in her ear.

She looks up at him, mouth open and eyes wide, looking like a doe in headlights. He just simply smirks at her before turning around and yelling over his shoulder “Bye Allison! See you in class princess.”

She doesn’t have a thought entering her brain as she opens the door to her building, walks up the stairs, and enters her room. When she arrives in the comfort of her form she shrinks against the door, falling to her butt and letting the warmth rush to her cheeks as she bites her lip to contain her giant smile.

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Allison didn’t tell Hannah about her little run-in with a Mr. Styles last night knowing she’d only freak out and make her talk to him again. Which she’d not entirely prepared to do.

They may have hit it off last night and he may have been the most amazing person he’d ever laid eyes on…may have been. But that doesn’t mean her caution about boys went away, she still couldn’t see herself going up to him after class no matter how much she wanted to.

And for the past hour she’d been trying to convince Hannah to let her stay home from a party…A party that Harry’s frat was hosting.

“Allison I don’t really care what you want, you hole yourself up in this room and then you get sad and homesick, and I’m done seeing you sad…You’re going. End of story.” Allison thinks of every excuse she can possibly think of in her mind, trying to get out of what sounds like a horrible, awkward, and terrifying experience.

“You cannot leave me the whole night.” She finally caves, knowing she’s right and Hannah lets out a scream, throwing her hands around Allison’s neck and rapidly firing all the reasons she’s going to love it and assuring her it will be amazing. Amazing is certainly a stretch.

The party starts at 9 (aka her bedtime) and Hannah spends almost three hours trying her hardest to make Allison feel and look her best.

“Ali girl when I tell you I’d fuck you if we didn’t have to leave for this party, I’m not joking.” She sighs. “I do good work, I really do.”

Allison rolls her eyes and laughs before taking one last look at herself in the mirror. The long-sleeve, square-cut, cream-colored shirt accentuates what little chest she has and curves around her torso in just the way it should. The black miniskirt making her ass look better than she’s ever seen it, Hannah made sure to comment on that. She had tried to put Allison in a pair of her strappy heels but Ali pulled the calculus help card and told her she’d let Hannah fail math before wearing heels to something like this. So she opted for lending her a pair of heeled boots instead.

“Hannah we can’t be out too late I have lacrosse at 10 tomorrow.” She scoffs at her statement as if it’s not big deal.

“Take a nap after you’ll be fine.” She turns around and grabs Allison’s shoulders before opening the door to the hallway. “Ali…Relax…It’ll be fun I promise, and if it’s not, you never have to go with me again…ok?”

“...Ok, I’ll try to have fun.” Allison smiles, resting her hand on top of Hannah’s before she takes it and pulls her out the door.

I really hope I don’t regret this

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Walking up to the large frat house Allison can’t help but feel overwhelmed beyond belief. Loud music blasts from the walls, lights shine from the inside and out, college students crowd the lawn entering in and out of the house with alcohol in hand.

Hannah notices her hesitance and turns to her with a smile and a pat on the back. “You’re fine, we’ll get in there, I’ll get you a drink, we’ll dance, we’ll talk, it’ll be good.” She winks before grabbing Allison’s hand and leading her inside.

She’s bombarded by a large foyer filled to the brim with people, and if she thought the music was loud outside, inside was a whole different ball game. As she scans the scene she finds people scattered across the large living room to kitchen, some dancing, some drinking, some…grinding? Either way she’s not sure if she should be looking.

“C’mon let’s go get some drinks.” Hannah pulls her toward the kitchen where there’s a bar instead of an island and alcohol lined up instead of a counter.

“Hey Will could you get me and my friend here a couple drinks? This is Allison.” She flirtatiously smiles at him before waving her arm up and down in front of Allison.

“Oh hey Han, glad you could make it, and it’s nice to meet you Allison…Let me tell you she does not give you enough credit.” Allison blushes as he runs his eyes from her skirt up to her hair curled down her shoulders. Hannah sends a smack into his chest, leaning over the counter, to which he laughs and asks what we want to drink.

“Uh I’ll have a long island and Ali…” Allison looks at her with slight panic considering she’s never really had alcohol before except for the one time her older sister sat her down before she graduated. She didn’t want her going to college before knowing how much alcohol she could handle (clearly she didn’t know her sister very well). So they sat on the couch and got wine drunk while watching crappy lifetime movies until Allison was falling over the coffee table.

“She’ll have a daiquiri.” Hannah tells him before throwing him a wink and turning around to face the crowd.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Allison asks her.

“Well why don’t you have your first drink first and then…whatever you want to do.” While Hannah talks to Will as he makes their drinks, Ali scans the area trying to decide whether or not she should fake being sick and go home. Like Hannah’s dumb enough to fall for that.

She’s pulled out of ehr thoughts by a hand on her shoulder and a cold drink being placed in her hand. “Here, if you don’t like it I can just get you water and I’ll drink it, ok?” She nods before taking a sip. She’s overwhelmed by the taste of strawberry and lime, she doesn’t even notice the rum, which may end up being a bad thing by the end of the night.

Her eyes widen and she nods in enjoyment as Hannah laughs at her reaction.

They sit at the bar conversing with Will, well, Hannah converses with Will, Allison watches the two converse. She can tell Hannah totally likes him and he’s not hiding it very well either, it makes Allison smile to watch the interaction filled with their flirting when she knows tomorrow Hannah will be denying all of this.

Through all of this, a second drink is passed to her, along with a third and considering her low tolerance she’s already tipsy after two and a half.

“Hannah.” She pokes her side.

“What’s up babe?” she shushes Will before giving all of her attention to Ali.

“I wanna dance.” She has a small smile on her face and Hannah turns her head to see Will’s eyebrows raised and a few chuckles leave his mouth.

“Alright, go ahead.” She giggles at her friend.

“Oh no, you have to come with me.” Allison’s eyes widen at the prospect of going alone as she stands and grabs Hannah’s hand.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” She takes one last sip of her drink before following Ali to the surprisingly large group of people spread across the living room. Fire Burning by Sean Kingston’s blasting through the multiple speakers strewn across the house.

To Hannah and honestly Allison’s surprise she’s having an amazing time, and she’s not a half-bad dancer. They take each other’s hand and follow the moves of everyone around them, laughing with some of the girls around them.

After several songs and several minutes of thinking about nothing but the way her body moves, she feels a hand softly press against her hip, making her turn around and look up at the pair of green eyes the hand belongs to.

“Hi Harry!” She gasps and a wide smile stretches across her face.

“Hey Allison, wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He laughs at her clear tipsy state.

“I wasn’t gonna come cause I knew you’d be here and you make me nervous but Hannah convinced me.” She spills her thoughts, not having as much restraint in her state.

“I make you nervous?” He leans further down so she can hear him over the loud music.

She nods, looking up at him through her deep lashes, biting her lip to try and contain her idiotic smile.

“Well remind me to thank Hannah.” She turns her head at her name, seeing the two of them so close together she narrows her eyes and lets a smirk fall onto her lips.

“My pleasure!” She yells to him to which he nods with the same stupid smirk that gets butterflies swarming in Ali’s stomach.

Into you by Ariana Grande starts playing and Ali gasps, holding Harry’s arms tighter.

“I love this song! Do you wanna dance with me? I think Hannah left me for Will.” She laughs and so does he, nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her further into the crows from their spot on the edge.

He places her hands on his neck before placing his own on her hips, allowing the two of them to get lost in the music.

After the song ends too soon the pair hear Harry’s name called from the other side of the room.

“Styles we’re about to get a game of pong going, let’s go!” He yells back a quick reply before looking down at Ali.

“Do you want to play? You don’t have to, we can keep dancing if you want, they’ll find someone else.” She shakes her head before telling him she’d like to try cup pong. She’d seen it in movies and it looks pretty easy so she thought why not.

They walk over to the ping pong table outside on the patio, which, you’ll never guess, was filled with even more people. Who knew that many people even went to yale.

Will and another guy on the lacrosse team stood on the other side of the table, Hannah standing on the side.

“Hannah are you not playing?” Ali asks.

“Oh no I don’t do games, babe.” She laughs at her question before pushing her back to her side of the table.

“That’s Ethan by the way, I heard you already met Will.” Harry told her.

“Allison! Have I heard a lot about you!” He smiles at her from the other end of the table as Harry sends him a glare. She looks up at him a little confused, not knowing why he’d know anything about her, but smiling back at him nonetheless and saying Hi.

“Have you ever played before?” Harry asks her, placing his hand on her back, a hand that send chills up and down her spine.

She shakes her head replying with a small “no.”

“It’s easy, I’ll go first so you can watch and then you’ll be good, alright love?” Her cheeks heat up at that name again and she nods.

The game starts and from there it’s filled with yells, and several people gather around the table. She misses the cup the first couple times she goes, but after that she seems to be a natural, landing it every time without fail. She hears a couple whispers from people around the table, ‘Who is she?’ “I don't know, I've never seen her before’.

When it’s down to the last cup, unluckily it’s her turn and the two teams are head to head. Harry stands behind her with his hands on the table next to her hips as she eyes the cup in front of her. The position not exactly making it easy for her to focus.

She throws the ball and it bounces on the table once before rolling along the rim of the cup and finally…falling in. Everybody yells, some in cheer, Will and Ethan in annoyance, She turns around and Harry’s arms are already thrown around her ribs, forcing her arms to go around his neck. Not that she minds, because she certainly doesn’t mind.

The boys send their reluctant congrats over, patting Harry on the back and waving once more to Allison before heading inside to grab another drink.

When she turns around she finds him closer than he was before if that’s even possible, and she can’t help but look at his pretty pink lips.

“I thought you said you’ve never played before?” He smirks down at her, leaning slightly closer, forcing her butt to hit the ping pong table.

“I haven’t…beginner’s luck I guess.” She smiles.

“I usually suck at that game, I think you’re my lucky charm.” They both laugh until the giggling ends and they’re left staring between each other’s lips and eyes.

Harry had seen her earlier from across the room and couldn’t help but widen his eyes at her perky ass in that skirt, her gorgeous body in that top, and her beautiful features that glowed in the flashing lights. Since then he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what her lips would feel like, or how her body would feel beneath his fingertips.

“Do you wanna go up to my room? You don’t have to say yes, we can just go back inside and we can find Hannah if you want.” He asks.

“No…I mean, yes, yes I want to go upstairs.” He smiles at her slight stuttering and wraps her hand in his before leading her inside and through the crowd, keeping her close at all times.

As they quickly walked up the stairs she scanned the several sports plaques lining the walls and soon enough Harry was opening the door to a small room she presumed to be his.

Unlike what she imagined college guys’ rooms to look like, Harry’s room was clean, organized, decorated with posters of bands, and sports teams, not to mention the giant stack of books in the corner of his room.

“Harry?” She turned around from inspecting his room to find him standing over by the door throwing a sweatshirt that was hanging over his chair into his hamper.

“Ali?” He responds.

“I-uh…I don’t want to like…have sex with you…tonight.” She shyly mutters, slightly embarrassed and a little afraid he would be mad.

“Oh that’s okay…” He notices her getting seemingly more embarrassed. “Really Allison it’s okay.” He walks closer to her, lacing one of his fingers through two of hers.

“I’m sorry it’s just I’ve never…um, I’m a little embarrassed.” She nervously laughs at the end of her sentence.

“Don’t apologize, please, and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, If you want we can just sit and watch a movie or something…I really just wanted to be with you away from all those knuckleheads downstairs…promise.” He smiles at her, folding all of their fingers together and feeling her small hand enclosed by his.

“I wanna do…other stuff though.” She looks up at him not sure what his reaction will be.

He walks her back slightly until the back of her knees hit his bed.

“You want me to make you feel good?...Princess.” She nods, feeling drunk on something other than alcohol now.

She eventually falls down onto the bed, and he wraps an arm around her to bring her up to the top of the mattress.

He places one knee on the bed beside her, making the bed dip, before climbing overtop of her and hovering his face over her own.

“You’re unreal angel.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear to reveal her blown out pupils.

“You’re gorgeous Harry.” She replies, staring into his forest green eyes.

He chuckles at her words, loving how sweet she is. “Can I kiss you, princess?” She nods immediately, causing his smile to deepen and his thoughts to get darker.

He leans his head down to brush his lip against her open ones, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

He finally leans back down and encases her bottom lip between his, pressing a sweet kiss to her rosy lips.

She already feels herself wanting more, already knowing that she’s obsessed with kissing him.

He gives her another kiss, this time to her top lip and she reciprocates this time, pushing against him slightly and moving her hands up to grasp his hair. He moves his finger down her jaw before giving a kitten lick to the seam of her lips.

She gasps at his motion, causing him to lean back a little in question but she just nods and lifts her head to kiss his lips.

After he does that a few times, she finally gets comfortable enough to open her mouth to him. He doesn’t shove it inside, but instead slowly works his way in, licking across her tongue and along her mouth. She can feel a heat pool between her legs at his motions and finds herself squirming a little.

They makeout for a couple minutes, each time he pulls away, she comes back for more, already becoming enthralled by his mouth. Eventually, he moves his mouth down to her jawline and presses kisses along the bone before going behind her ear and sucking at the kin there. She whimpers slightly at the feeling, continuing to let out breathy sighs and gasps as he works his way down her neck and over her collarbones. He feels around the bottom of her shirt tucking his fingers beneath the hem.

“Can I take this off?” She nods urgently, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer. He lifts the shirt over her arms revealing a tiny white lace bra and the rest of her olive skin.

“God you’re so sexy Ali.” She breathes harder at his praise combined with his lips moving to kiss over the swell of her breast. He sucks hard on the flesh, causing a red bruise to form.

“You have no idea do you? You walk around in that tiny skirt and your cute headbands and you have no idea I’m getting hard in my pants?” She whines, growing more and more needy by the second, her bottom half squirming endlessly.

He grips her hips as he moves slowly down her body, planting kisses all over her pretty stomach. “Shh, stop moving.” He whispers against the skin right above her skirt. She immediately stops moving, following his orders, hoping to please him. All she cares about right now is being good for him. “Good girl.” She doesn’t think she’s ever had more butterflies in her life.

He starts to pull at her skirt, looking up at her for approval to which she whispers a small yes.

He pulls at the black material, shifting it down her pretty, tan legs. As the skirt inches further and further down, a matching ivory, lace pair of panties are revealed, making his jeans feel tighter by the second.

He smirks at the darkened, damp patch right over her pussy as he pulls her skirt over her boots, before unzipping them and removing those with it. He takes off her last boot, holding her ankle in his hand. He smooths his hand over her soft calf, followed by her gorgeous thighs, and soon the hem of her panties.

“Harry-” She whimpers.

“‘S okay princess…You want my mouth?” Her eyes widen at the prospect, having never even been touched before, but she eagerly accepts his offer, feeling an indescribable ache for him.

He kisses the inside of her thigh, running his tongue up the skin until she feels his breath over her clothed cunt.

He presses an open-mouthed kiss right over the gray area, causing her body to tense yet relax at the same time.

“Can I take these pretty panties off, angel?”

“Yes, yes, please.” He watches her head nod, her hair fanning out across the pillow, his pillow.

“So polite…” He smirks, hooking his ringed fingers into the sides and pulling down.

“Ali you’re soaked…All for me?” He asks, eyes blown out as he sets his eyes on her cunt for the first time.

She just whimpers again, too delirious to answer him.

“Answer me princess.” His eyebrows furrow slightly, his teeth biting into her thigh.

She gasps. “Yes, all for you Harry, please touch me.”

He can’t seem to deny her any longer, so he immediately leans forward at her begging, licking a strip from her clenching hole to her clit.

Her back arches at the first touch, already feeling like she’s going to explode.

He smooths his hands up and down the tops of her thighs which are locked over his shoulders, caging his head in. And, there’s no place he’d rather be.

He kisses around her folds, flicking his tongue up and down her bud, listening to her whines and moans.

It’s when he sucks her clit into her clit into his mouth and sucks hard, tonguing at the nub that she really loses it.

“Harry!” She yelps, reaching her hand down to tug at the curls on his head.

“You’re pretty little clit’s all swollen, baby…” He tells her, wanting to get as much of a reaction out of her he can.

He untangles one arm from around her thigh to lightly tap his fingers against her hole. He feels her clench against them and he takes it as an invitation to slip one finger into her weeping hole. She welcomes him in, almost sucking his finger into her. He removes his digit as fast as he inserted it, replacing it with his tongue and reaching the tip as far as he can, licking around her walls causing her broken moan to serenade his ears.

He inserts his finger again, this time with his middle and index and begins thrusting them in and out of her. He’s sure it must be slightly uncomfortable for her first time, so he eases her discomfort with kitten licks to her clit, causing her to relax around his fingers.

He continues, until her finds tha spongy spot deep inside of her that causes her to shake around him.

“Oh! Harry I-” Her words are cut off by a moan and her smirks against her heat.

“Gonna come on my fingers, pretty girl?” She nods, losing herself on his tongue.

Soon enough, with a few more pulsing sucks to her bud and a few more thrusts of his fingers, she’s releasing over his hand, his tongue immediately moving to lick up her orgasm. She shakes in the aftermath, breathy moans falling from her lips.

She stills, her chest rising up and down, and mouth falling open. Her hand releases his hair and comes up to brush her hair off her face.

He climbs overtop of her again, looking into the pretty color of her post-orgasmic eyes before pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, letting his bottom lip stick to her top for a lingering second.

“Wow.” She says, causing him to chuckle loudly, followed by her giggles.

She smiles up at him, her giggles slowing to a stop. “Um…do you, you know…” She looks down to the tent in his jeans.

“Oh no…I’m okay, really…Another time.” he winks, before moving off of her to grab a t-shirt from his drawer. He tosses her the item to let her inspect it.

“You’re a Packers fan?” She asks, throwing the t-shirt over her head, and grabbing her underwear from the edge of the bed, to pull up her legs.

“No other choice is there?” He smiles over his shoulder before crawling into the bed next to her.

“I’m more of a Pats fan myself.” She smirks down at his lying position, her criss-cross position giving her height over him and allowing her hair to tickle his cheek.

“Get out.” He points to the door, causing her to laugh and hit his shoulder.

“Um-no but you can stay if you want? You don’t have to but…I don’t know, it’s late.” He speaks through his continuous laughter.

“I have lacrosse in the morning-”

“Me too, I can drive you?” She smiles at the prospect, her teeth biting into her lip.

“Okay…” She lies down and he lifts the covers for her to slide into.

“How do we feel about Friends?” He asks her, grabbing the remote from his bedside table.

“Love!”

“Oh thank god, I might actually have to kick you out if you were a patriots fan and a Friends hater.” She chuckles, nudging him with her hip, to which he responds by putting his arm around her shoulder and his other behind his head.

The pair watch two episodes of Friends before Ali’s falling asleep, her eyes momentarily closing before opening again, and repeating until her body relaxes completely into his and her head falls onto his collarbone.

And he brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair until his own sleep takes over him.

His last thought crosses his mind.

She doesn’t just get straight A’s in class does she…

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #one direction #harry #writing #fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #college!harry #university!harry #virgin!mc #harry edward styles

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thousandfireworks · 7 months

Text

Authors whose books you have to avoid because they are problematic.

Abigail Hing Wen.

Alex Aster.

Alice Hoffman.

Alice Oseman.

Alison Win Scotch. ‘Terrorism is never acceptable. Not in Israel.’

Allie Sarah.

Amber Kelly.

Amy Harmon.

Annabelle Monaghan.

Anna Akana.

Aurora Parker.

Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

Brandon Sanderson. Islamophobic.

Carissa Broadbent. Said that hamas is doing violence against innocence.

Chloe Walsh. Siding with Israel in the name of humanity.

Christina Lauren. Believe that Israel is the victim. A racist, also Islamophobic.

Colleen Hoover.

Cora Reilly. Travel to Israel despite criticism.

Danielle Bernstein. Islamophobic.

Danielle Lori.

Deke Moulton. Said hamas is terrorist.

Dian Purnomo.

Eliza Chan.

Elle Kennedy.

Elyssa Friedland.

Emily Henry.

Emily Mclntire.

Emily St. J. Mandel. Admiring Israel.

Gabrielle Zevin. Wrote a book about anti-Palestine. Mentioned Israel multiple times without context on his book.

Gregory Carlos. Israeli author. A zionist.

Hannah Whitten.

Hazel Hayes. Reposted a post about October 7th.

Heidi Shertok.

Jamie McGuire.

Jay Shetty. ‘Violence is happening in Israel.’

Jean Meltzer.

Jeffery Archer. Wrote a book with a mc Israel operative (mossad) in a positive and anti terrorist light.

Jennifer Hartman. Liked a post about pro-Israel.

Jen Calonita.

Jessa Hastings.

Jill Santopolo. Said that Israel has right to exist and fight back.

John Green.

Jojo Moyes.

J. Elle.

J. K. Rowling. Support genocide. Racist. Islamophobic.

Kate Canterbery.

Kate Stewart.

Katherine Howe.

Katherine Locke.

Kristin Hannah. Support Israel. Shared a donation link.

Laini Taylor.

Laura Thalassa. Islamophobic.

Lauren Wise. Cussed that Palestinian supporters would be raped in front of children.

Lea Geller. Thanked people who supports Israel.

Leigh Dragoon. Islamaphobic and anti Asian racist rants on Twitter and threads

Leigh Stein.

Lilian Harris. A racist. Blocking people who educates about colonialism in Palestine and call them disgusting.

Lisa Barr. A daughter of Holocaust survivor. Support Israel.

Lisa Kennedy Montgomery.

Lisa Steinke.

Liz Fenton.

Lynn Painter. Afraid of getting cancelled as a pro-Palestine and posted a template afterwards.

L. J. Shen. Her husband joins idf (Israel army).

Mariana Zapata.

Marie Lu.

Marissa Meyer.

Melissa de la Cruz.

Michelle Cohen Corasanti.

Michelle Hodkin. Spread false rumors about arab-hamas. Islamophobic.

Mitch Albom. ‘We shouldn't blame Israel for surviving attacks or defending against them.’

Monica Murphy. Siding with Israel.

Naomi Klein.

Navah Wolfe.

Neil Gaiman. Suggested Palestinians unite with Israel and become citizens.

Nicholas Sparks.

Nic Stone. Talked nonsense that children in Palestinian refugee camp are training to be martyrs for Allah because they felt it was their call in life.

Nyla K.

Olivia Wildenstein. Blocking people who disagree with Israel wrongdoing.

Pamela Becker.

Penelope Douglas.

Pierce Brown.

Rachel Lynn Solomon.

Rebecca G. Martinez.

Rebecca Yarros. ‘I despise violence’ her opinion about what's happening in Gaza. Blocking people who calls her a zionist.

Rena Rossner.

Renee Ahdieh.

Rick Riordan.

Rina Kent.

Rivka (noctem.novelle).

Rochelle Weinstein.

Romina Garber. ‘These terrorist attacks do nothing to improve the lives of Palestinians people.’

Roshani Chokshi. Encourage people to donate to Israel.

Samantha Greene Woodruff.

Sarah J. Mass. Her book contained ideology of zionism.

Stephanie Garber. Promoting books by zionist author (Sarah J. Mass)

Skye Warren.

Sonali Dev.

Talia Carner.

Tarryn Fisher. Said ‘there was terrorist attack in Israel.’

Taylor Jenkins Reid. Posted a video about genocide.

Tere Liye. Rumoured to have ghoswriters to write his books and never give credit to them.

Tillie Cole.

Tracy Deon.

Trinity Traveler (Ade Perucha Hutagaol). Rumour to wrote book about handsome Israelis.

T. J. Klune.

Uri Kurlianchik.

Veronica Roth.

Victoria Aveyard. ‘Israel has the right to exist.’ quote from her about the issue.

V. E. Schwab. Shared a donation link and video about Israel.

Yuval Noah. ‘Israel has the right to do anything to defend themselves.’

Zibby Owens.

#boycott israel #boycott zionist #free palestine #ssarchieve

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maddieautobot273 · 8 months

Text

Silk & Cologne (52)

A Miguel O'hara x OC fanfic - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 52: Lost - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x Female Spidersona OC

Words: 3.5K+ words

Warnings: PG for mentions a panic and/or anxiety attack

Summary: The webslingers hatch a plan to rescue Kasey.

////////

“So Hugh Everett’s theory about other dimensions is legit?” Toya’s eyes were bug eyed wide, as well as Touga and Hannah after I had finished sharing my story.

I told them everything. From when I got bitten by the spider, Miguel and Peter B. rescued me whilst introducing me to the Spider Society and ultimately joining them to control my new powers. The rest they had pretty much already knew to an extent, as far as me and Miguel dating goes.

“Pretty much,” I innocently shrug my shoulders. “If there’s another universe that has Spider-Man in someway, shape, or form, it exists.”

“So like a spiderverse?” Touga asks, his fingers waving with a dramatic flare.

“Spiderverse?” Miguel huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed chest. “The technical term is the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.”

Everyone gawks in Miguel’s direction, myself included. I clear my throat, offering him a playful smile as I nudge his side. “Soooo, the spiderverse?”

Miguel rolled his eyes, but gave me a ghost of a smirk. “In the simplest of terms I suppose, yes, a spiderverse, if you will,”

“So the characters, er, I guess, those people, everyone we saw was real?” Toya went on, stepping forward as the more he talked, the more calm and relaxed he appeared to be processing all of this.

Hannah gulps suddenly. “Including the villains?” She shuddered, Touga wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Especially the villains.” I nodded firmly.

“So, Chameleon, Vulture, Green Goblin. . .” Touga mumbled as his voice wandered before shaking his head, speaking up. “All of that was real.”

I nodded again.

“But they looked different from what we know of them,” Touga quickly realized, his mind racing thinking back to just mere minutes ago.

“Think of the Multiverse like a giant spider-web, with lots of interconnecting webs and nodes,” Miguel explained, his arm open wide as if mapping it out in his head. “I’d show you my own illustration but time is of the essence.”

“Why are they here?” Hannah asks, her voice a bit more calm with Touga’s presence.

“They’re after me,” I swallowed, curling my fingers into a fist so tight I thought I’d puncture my skin with my finger nails. “The spider that bit me and gave me my powers came from dimension Earth-1997, home to Harry Osborne who orchestrated this attack.”

My friends eyes lit up with concern and worry, anxiously holding their breath as they waited for us to speak more.

They’re here because of me.

“I wanted to wait to tell you a theory of mine, but Spider-Doc’s research confirmed my suspicions,” Migue spoke up as his long fingers trailed down my arms to my fists, uncurling my fingers and intertwining our hands. “Better late than never. Harry was trying to recreate the venom that gave the Spider-Man of his dimension their powers. He made a modification that amplified the specific targets' natural talents and enhanced them. In Lisa’s case, it amplified her athleticism when it came to her dancing, and her voice.”

“Her voice?” Toya repeated with a confused glint in his eyes.

“My webs glow when I sing, triggering various effects if I use them on someone,” I suddenly became nervous, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand. It kind of sounds outrageous saying this all out loud here. “I can put my targets to sleep, issue commands, and I uh– triggered them to explode once?”

“Exploding webs?!” Toya exclaimed, eyes wide as Hannah jumped, Touga holding her protectively.

“I didn’t kill anyone! I only used it against a giant rock monster!” I started, waving my hand reassuringly.

“You fought rock monsters?” Touga gawked, his grip tightening on Hannah.

Miguel coughs into the fist of his free hand, regaining everyone’s attention. “Can we stay focused, please? Trying to have an adult conversation, or at least something close to it.”

“Right, sorry, Spider-Man– Miguel, or Mr. O’hara, er, sir!” Touga apologies before both he and his twin offer Miguel a salute, straightening their posture.

Hannah glances between them, unsure whether to do the same. I cast her a reassuring glance, waving my hand down. “That’s not a thing in the Society, you don’t need to do that,”

“Please, just call me Miguel,” Miguel nods over to the boys, putting them at ease. “Mr. O’hara was my father. I am not him.”

“. . . Doesn’t Pavitr call you Mr. O’hara?” I gently remind him, lowering my voice to a whisper.

Miguel keeps his gaze on my friends, not breaking eye contact as he matches my tone. “I don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. He’s a good kid, so he gets a pass.”

“So does Kasey’s disappearance have something to do with Harry going after you?” Hannah asks me.

“Yes,” I sighed deeply, lowering my head. “They’ve. . . come after me before.”

“Wait, the attack at your apartment that one time was them?” Hannah’s voice dropped as she covered her mouth and I could see the exact moment when her heart dropped.

I nodded. “Yes, and now they’re trying to get to me through those closest to me. That’s why they took Kasey and Chameleon disguised himself and took Kasey’s place so I wouldn’t notice.”

“But if you have spider-powers now, wouldn’t your spider-sense warn you if something was up?” Touga asked me, his voice a little hesitant.

“Truthfully I’m still getting used to how it works exactly,” I shake my head with a grim expression. “I can sense danger right before it happens, but not in the long term it seems.”

But maybe if I could. . .

I winced, hearing white noise in my ear. An image flashed in my head, but I couldn’t quite catch what it was as I vigorously shook my head. It had to be the stress of all that was happening, at least that’s what I told myself to keep calm.

I didn’t miss the look Miguel gave me. Could he hear my thoughts through the mental bond he had connected with me? Before he had a chance to talk, Hannah’s voice spoke up and his eyes gazed upon her.

“So. . . where is Kasey?” Hannah asked me nervously.

My shoulders slacked as my head hung low. “I have no idea.”

Chameleon had mentioned that he disguised himself long enough for the plan to work. But how long was that even? The day before the show? A week ago? Or when we had that fight?

“Has anyone tried contacting her since you all got here?” Miguel’s eyes wandered between the group, looking at each of us.

Everyone looked shocked, puzzled as to why they didn’t think to do that before. Myself included. We all whipped out our phones, trying to text, call, even facetime Kasey’s number. But it all went to voicemail.

“She’s not answering.” Toya shook his head with a frustrated growl.

“But it went straight to voicemail,” I quickly realized, whipping my gaze to Miguel. “Her phone is still on!”

Miguel nodded, the gears in his head turning as he was one step ahead of me. He pulled away from me, lifting a hand to his gizmo, typing in a command on the touch screen. “Lyla, can you track the signal to see where Kasey’s phone is?” A holographic map of my dimension’s New York appeared before us, my friends surprised gasps could be heard in the back.

“Sure can!” Lyla beamed happily as her avatar took form on Miguel’s shoulder and the gasps returned, this time louder and more alarmed. “Oh, Lisa, these must be your friends!”

“Introductions later, Lyla, we really need your help.” I insisted.

“Anyone got a phone charger she can borrow?” Lyla asked as she zipped over towards my friends, studying them.

“Uh, h-here!” Touga turned back, walking over to the kitchen counter as he pulled a drawer back and pulled out a charger.

“Thanks,” He handed the charge to me and I found a USB port on the side of my gizmo.

After connecting the two devices, I dialed Kasey’s number again. My heart dropped deeper and deeper into the pit of my stomach the longer it rang. Loading icons appeared on Lyla’s eyes as she studied the holographic map carefully. Then suddenly she exclaimed before flying over to a part of the map and tapping it with her finger.

The map zoomed in on the spot before the hologram reconstructed itself and took the shape of a very familiar small island, with a very familiar historical landmark. I cursed under my breath. My knees buckled as I took it all in. “She’s back there?”

The Statue of Liberty.

“Specifically, here,” Lyla zoomed in on the hologram again, this time, directing it beneath the monument to a series of tunnels and passageways. “I tracked the signal underground.”

“She was beneath us this whole time?” Toya’s jaw dropped as he stepped closer to the holomap, studying the pathway.

“Are you absolutely sure, Lyla?” Miguel asked the AI, hands on his hips.

“That’s where the signal is coming from,” Lyla nodded before looking over at Miguel. “It’s not a bad place to keep a hostage.”

Miguel’s stance was collected, calm and his eyes narrowed seriously as he looked back towards me. “What do you want to do?”

My eyes trailed down to my phone, seeing the failed calls and texts to Kasey’s phone before looking back towards the holomap. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled out of my mouth as I glared at the red dot indicating Kasey’s proximity location. “If there’s even the smallest chance, I have to go.”

“We will go,” Miguel corrected me, stepping to my side as he placed a steady hand to the small of my back. “I’ll call the others, and figure out a plan.”

Footsteps caught my attention as I looked up, seeing Hannah, Touga, and Toya approach the opposite end of the holomap, determined looks on their faces.

“How can we help?” Touga crossed his arms over his chest, offering me a smile.

“What?” My eyes widened at his offer as I looked between them and Miguel just to check if they were joking. I narrowed my eyes cautiously. “I’m not asking you to put your lives–”

“Oh, we’re not asking, we’re telling,” Toya spoke up with a grin, cracking his knuckles. “We’re a team, remember? The Webslingers?”

I gawked at his words, feeling like I was going to cry right there and then. “Guys. . .”

“Kasey is our friend too, and we want to do everything we can to help.” Hannah stated, appearing a little more calm and confident in herself.

I looked over towards Miguel. “Well?”

‘We could use the extra help?’

Miguel’s eyes narrowed before he sighed, shaking his head lightly as he glanced over to the floor. Hands still on his hips, he glances up to my friends. “It will be dangerous. If we go in there. . . there’s a chance we won't come back out.”

My body froze at that moment, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought it was going to burst as I watched my friends exchange looks with one another. The idea that more than Kasey’s life could be at risk, or worse. . . I didn’t want to think about it. The white noise and flickering came back briefly, and I shook my head again as my friends looked up towards Miguel. Determination still painted on their faces.

“We understand the risks,” Touga spoke as Toya and Hannah nodded their heads. “We’re coming.”

“Then we got some work to do.” Miguel stated as he rose his gizmo to his face. “Spiders, rendezvous at my coordinates. All hands on deck.”

////////

Operation: Rescue Kasey and save Earth-1218 was a go.

Avoiding the police and the checkpoints they set up on practically every block leading up to the harbour was a cakewalk, as we navigated across on the rooftops. After dropping down and getting by the patrols, we found the twin’s family yacht. Using cloaking technology on the S.S.Saki to avoid being seen by the Coast Guard, we sailed back to the island under the cover of darkness.

There was an eerie silence as we sailed across the lake and into the port. To think only mere minutes ago, the place was covered with fire and explosions. I could still smell the ash and smoke from here.

Not to mention that stupid portal was till glowing and hovering up in the sky like the biggest eyesore. As we navigated closer to the statue, I prayed to any God that would listen to me to not let another villain variant or anomaly pass through and cause more destruction to my home. As far as I could catch through the radio chatter on the police walkies as we snuck by, the villains never left the smaller island and attacked the mainland.

It was the smallest of blessings, but I didn’t take it for granted.

“Everyone in position?” Miguel spoke through the gizmo’s commlink.

Miguel and I had snuck our way to the top of the Statue of liberty to catch a peek at the portal to check if any more villains would be coming through any time soon. Thankfully it didn’t appear so, but the place was crawling with Oscorp guards, the same ones that abducted me back when all of this first started. I had shuddered when I first caught a glimpse of their uniforms.

“We’re ready to go in when you are, Miguel,” Noir responded.

Noir would be leading Gwen, and my friends through a back door at the bottom of the statue that led into the underground maintenance facility where the network of tunnels started. Miguel and I would make our way down through the statue itself by the security entrance. Pav, Peter B., Jess, and Hobie were on standby for backup in case we needed it.

“We go on my signal,” Miguel spoke before he glanced over at me, noticing how my eyes had yet to stray from looking at the portal. “I’ll call you back.”

He hung up the feed, approaching me softly as we stood within the crown of Lady Liberty.

I had changed into my real, and very much cleaner and not tattered, spider-suit via my gizmo. The nano-technology fit me like a glove as I lowered my head down to look at my mask. My fingers curled tighter around it as a wave of shame and guilt coursed through my body.

“Something has been eating at you,” Miguel spoke gently. “I can tell.”

“. . . This is all my fault, isn’t it?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Mona Lisa, none of this is your fault,” Miguel eagerly insisted, his voice still stern yet gentle as he squeezed my hand in his.

“But what if it is?” I turned my head to look back at him with worry. “Even if my universe doesn’t actually have a canon like Lyla told you, I still can’t use my powers here. I tried to when I pushed Touga out of the way. I saved him, but I blacked out in that split second.”

Miguel’s eyes softened in sympathy, his fingers squeezing my hands tightly as his thumbs brushed against the fabric of my gloves. “Lisa. . .”

“I should have been more vocal with you with my worry about Harry coming here when you first told me the other week. I trusted you to handle it and I still do, but. . . without my powers, how can I rescue Kasey?” My voice trembled, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears. “How can I protect my home?”

I could see Miguel’s lips moving, but I couldn’t hear him. Everything seemed to blur as the white noise returned, erupting my ears. Spots flickered in my eyes as I began to see things, someone that wasn’t there.

For a brief moment, someone else took Miguel’s place. First it was Hannah and my eyes widened in fear when it looked like she was beaten up, bloodied even. Then it was Toya, and Touga, then Kasey, and I recoiled, fearing the worst for her.

“What if they get hurt because of me?” I choked.

Miguel’s form flickered as he continued to try and talk to me, before I closed my eyes and when I opened them again I saw my mother. I nearly fell to my knees. As if he were shouting from a distance, I could hear Miguel’s muffled cry to me.

“What if—!” The words were there but I couldn’t get them out as I shut my eyes again, shaking my head.

But when I looked back, Miguel wasn’t there again. It was a woman, an elderly with snow white hair tied in a bun. She wore a visor with multiple red eyes staring at me, in a long red suit like gown as she sat on a black throne that was covered in webs.

“What if you’re right? What if my universe won’t accept me as its Spider-Woman because of all of this?” I whimpered, my fingers clutching on to the sides of my head.

The woman suddenly lunged for me, arms out.

“Lisa, look at me!”

But it wasn’t the woman’s voice that came out of her mouth as I shut my eyes feeling someone grabbing on to me, shaking me back into reality. I slowly opened my eyes to see Miguel kneeling before me, his hands on my shoulders as they trembled, as if fighting not to grab me too hard. His eyes poured into mine, his pupils flickering between his normal brown and his powerful red irises as if trying to keep himself calm through all of this.

“Maybe. . . Maybe I’m wrong. I’ve seen what you can do with these powers and how you’ve used it to protect those around you, to protect me. But even if I am right, I will be there and help you every step of the way. I’ll work with Lyla and the Doc, research and study the spider-venom DNA for anything that can help you to use your powers here and reduce the pain that you’re feeling, because I’m so shocking proud of you, Lisa!”

Slowly the white noise whine down, and I started to hear music? Violins playing a soft, enchanting and also familiar melody.

“Not done fightin' (no way), I don't fear I've lost

Am I dreamin', is there more like us?”

My lips trembled as I looked at him, eyes watering as something warm swelled in my chest. “Miguel. . .” The white noise and voices started to dissipate.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He panted, managing a smile as he laughed.

I could see his fangs glisten in the moonlight, flashing that signature grin of his as his hands came up to cup my cheeks. He closed the distance between us, his lips crashing into mine in a confident, pulling my flush against him. I was worried that someone might see us, a patrolling guard or another anomaly sneaking through the portal, but when Miguel’s fingers dug into my hair at the back of my head, I melted into his touch completely.

“Got me feeling (no way), like it's all too much

I feel beaten, but I can't give up”

His tongue slowly brushed against my bottom lip suddenly, testing the waters, silently asking for permission. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold myself closer, and I parted my lips. It was brief, only for a few seconds, but I felt his tongue slip into my mouth and massage itself against my own in slow, gentle strokes before Miguel pulled away completely.

“Your best is enough.” he stated, his fingers brushing stray strands of my hair away from my face. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you save your dimension. You have my word, Lisa.”

There was a look in his eyes, as if he wanted to say more, but he held back, as I stared at him wide eyed. He reached down to the floor, gently plucking my mask that I had dropped during our kiss. Offering it to me with a soft smile, he spoke confidently, “Ready to get to work, Spider-Muse?”

“I'm still fighting, I don't fear I've lost

Am I dreamin', is there more like us?”

My gaze flickered between him and the mask as the surroundings around us became more clear to me. I couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest anymore as I reached for my mask, taking it from his large fingers. I didn’t hear the voices anymore as I tied my hair back before slipping the mask over my head and pulled my ponytail through the hair opening.

“Got me feelin' (no way), like it's all too much

I feel beaten (no way), but I can't give up!”

The HUD of my mask came to life as vital signs and data measurements followed my UI menu and the eyelets of my mask glowed to life as I met Miguel’s stare. I reached my hand back out, grasping his and intertwined my fingers tightly with his. “Let’s go save the multiverse together.”

////////

Leave a like or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tagged: @0eye0, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix , @r1dd1kulus, @kirablommuwu @kenacole @kuinnoa, @devotedlyatomicdeer @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx @noahspector @senicrile @ahoeformyself

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #fanfiction #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x oc #miguel o'hara x spiderpersona #atsv #across the spiderverse #slow burn #rivals to lovers #spiderman oc #spidersona #spider oc #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel 2099

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toofunktastic · 4 months

Text

Some more gifts of stuff from last year and previous years!

Hadestown - First US National Tour February 19, 2022 - madeapactwithsatan MatinéeCast: Nicholas Barasch (Orpheus), Morgan Siobhan Green (Eurydice), Kevyn Morrow (Hades), Kimberly Marable (Persephone), Levi Kreis (Hermes), Belén Moyano (Fate), Bex Odorisio (Fate), Shea Renne (Fate), Lindsey Hailes (Worker), Chibueze Ihuoma (Worker), Will Mann (Worker), Sydney Parra (Worker), Jamari Johnson Williams (Worker)Notes: Do not post any part of this on any social media. https://mega.nz/folder/n01CjaLR#ysg3zH6-Raf3cKDKYtE-cg

Company - Second US National Tour December 2, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan Cast: Britney Coleman (Bobbie), Judy McLane (Joanne), Kathryn Allison (Sarah), Will Blum (t/r David), Ali Louis Bourzgui (Paul), Derrick Davis (Larry), Javier Ignacio (Peter), James Earl Jones II (Harry), Marina Kondo (Susan), Matt Rodin (Jamie), Emma Stratton (Jenny), Jacob Dickey (Andy), Tyler Hardwick (PJ), David Socolar (Theo)

Notes: Very fun seeing a completely new show to me! I cough occasionally in act 2, but not too often. Never to be posted on any form of social media. https://mega.nz/folder/vlMwVAIC#9bbhH3YJ2pqi8V52f5dPqg

Legally Blonde - Fourth US National Tour (Non-Equity) April 30, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan Matinée

Cast: Hannah Bonnett (Elle Woods), Woody White (Emmett Forrest), James Oblak (Warner Huntington III), Ashley Morton (Paulette), Lea Sevola (Vivienne Kensington), Kaelee Albritton (Brooke Wyndham), Chris Carsten (Professor Callahan), Jesse Lynn Hart (Margot), Taylor Lloyd (Serena), Rory Furey-King (Pilar), Matthew Dean Hollis (Kyle/Grandmaster Chad/Dewey), Harley Barton (Veronica/Enid), Alexis Loiselle (Kate), Emma Wilcox (Chutney), Pablo Pernia (Padamadan/Nikos), Brandon Moreno (Carlos/Lowell), Gill Vaughn-Spencer (Pforzheimer), Jack Gimpel (Aaron)

Notes: Do not post any part of this on any social media.

https://mega.nz/folder/GpkkWBrQ#9fxuoAo-zPEa_snga8QsnQ

Little Shop of Horrors - Off-Broadway Revival February 25, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan Audio | Matinée

Cast: Matt Doyle (Seymour Krelborn), Maude Apatow (Audrey Fulquard), Bryce Pinkham (Orin Scrivello/Others), Brad Oscar (Mr. Mushnik), Aaron Arnell Harrington (Voice of Audrey II), D'Kaylah Unique Whitley (Ronnette), Tiffany Renee Thompson (Crystal), Khadija Sankoh (Chiffon), Teddy Yudain (Derelict/Audrey II Manipulation), Chelsea Turbin (Audrey II Manipulation), Weston Chandler Long (Audrey II Manipulation), Camryn Hampton (Ensemble), Jeff Sears (s/w Ensemble)

Notes: Do not post any part of this on social media. https://mega.nz/folder/XltjUYZY#gcOM9nfkDOvCm1ReER8W4g

Wicked - Second US National Tour (Munchkinland) November 3, 2023 - madeapactwithsatan Audio

Cast: Olivia Valli (Elphaba), Celia Hottenstein (Glinda), Brett Stoelker (u/s Fiyero), Timothy Shew (The Wizard), Kathy Fitzgerald (Madame Morrible), Tara Kostmayer (Nessarose), Kyle McArthur (Boq), Boise Holmes (Doctor Dillamond)

Notes: Beyond general annoying audience things (talking/singing/wrappers/ice), there are a couple of times phones go off and a walkie goes off in act one. Otherwise a very receptive audience with lots of cheering and applauding. Never to be posted on any form of social media.

https://mega.nz/folder/Ho1VUA7J#zsPrxRqDJ03hfaQbP_bajw

#audio gift #hadestown #wicked #legally blonde the musical #little shop of horrors #company musical

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elisedonut · 9 months

Text

❄️HARRY POTTER REC FEST 2023❄️

Lightning round because i for sure got distracted and never finished after day 12

so here we go i wont go into too much detail for any of these I did skip a couple that i didn't have an idea for as expected but enjoy!

13. A fic with over 100k words

Percy Take the Wheel by KittySmith

My personal favorite long Percy-centric fic!

Based on the concept of “What if Molly and Arthur died between the first and second books and Percy ended up being the brother to step up to take care of his younger siblings”

14. A favorite series

Harry Potter and the Ticket Backwards by viciousmouse

Gen Time travel Au’s my beloved. Another Harry goes back in fic but this one has a ton of focus on smaller characters Dudley, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott ect ect.

Also Harry convinces Percy to try to become a lawyer.

16 A fic that made you laugh

Hexes Are Not Romantic by Electroid

Flintley with Marcus being dumb and not going about this whole flirting thing very well. Very cute.

19. Fic with the hottest smut

Points (not) Taken by Green

Flintley with honestly, again Marcus just not doing boundaries but i think about it alot, it’s probably one of my favorite Flintley works.

20. A fic rated G

Dancing Lessons by HPfanatic12

Gen fic where Percy teaches Harry how to dance for the Yule Ball. Very cute and fun concept.

+ Ludicrous by mrsprobie

Justin Finch-Fletchley/Percy Weasley, meet cute. Very cute.

23. A soulmate fic

Into Oblivion by hmweasley

Draco Malfoy/Percy Weasley, I know someone else has Rec’ed this one for this fest already but i am too it’s very interesting

24. A holiday fic

Saving Christmas by A_Door

Percy Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Very cute story of Blaise trying to show Percy their into him without saying it despite their many attempts going right over Percy’s head.

25. A fic rated T

wholly true by starsailing

Flintley, Once again awkward Marcus trying to court/flirt will never not be entertaining to me. In this case with gift giving

26. A fic with an ending you can’t stop thinking about

There's Rue for You by Mr_Customs_Man

Flintley but only like kinda, anyway Ok so i’ll admit i'm stretching ending here. The part I think the most about with this is the end of Percy’s stay with Marcus but still I think about the regular ending too, because that whole last paragraph is just oof.

It’s fic exploring an AU where Peter polyjuiced as Percy after the fight and Percy goes through hell

27. A Muggle-AU fic

blueberry eyes ( seem to make time still ) by pandorascrate

Hannah Abbott/Percy Weasley. I liked that they didn't immediately get together. It took years in the story for them to get together. Also Percy feels good in this. I like the way he was written.

29. A post-canon fic More Lessons in Grieving as Taught by Dennis Creevy by angeladex

Gen Dennis and George talk after the final battle. Pulling Dennis into stories revolving around the Weasley’s grief for Fred is always really interesting to me and i’m not going to lie this one almost made me cry.

30. A pre-canon fic Life Lessons as Taught by Luna Lovegood by angeladex

Gen When Luna’s mom dies she goes to the burrow to tell the Weasley’s her family won’t be coming over for dinner after all and Percy walks her home. I really liked this. Percy’s reactions to a 9 year old Luna trying to weave around saying outright that her mom is dead was really good.

31. A fav amongst favs Vivaldi and Hot Chocolate by Patriceavril

Stan Shunpike/Percy Weasley, I’m very biased towards this one i won’t even lie but i love it very much. It’s cute, it’s sweet. Percy’s characterization is really nice. Stan’s characterization is really fun.

@hprecfest

#hprecfest2023 #percy weasley #marcus flint #draco malfoy #george weasley #hannah abbott #justin finch fletchley #stan shunpike #dennis creevey #luna lovegood #flintley #Stercy #blaise zabini

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yandere-to-express · 1 year

Text

The wrong cranium

Gender neutral

Part 4

"He won't eat pickles," the harried mother said, one hand carrying a baby and the other feeding french fries to the bigger child, one by one, the grease coating all five fingers, bringing a dull, worn shine to the wrinkling skin, the blood-red lacquered nails. Her claws embedded into the crispy yellow sticks, she carried the great haul en-mass into the maw of the child, which opened languorously to accept the filial offering.

You could not avert your gaze from the repulsive sight. Your hands, which are holding a palm-sized notepad and a cheap dollar store pen, had gone stiff, shaking, holding back violent urges you had never felt before.

"I understand," you murmur robotically, letting yourself cling to the walls of your skin. Your hand writes down something. "I will bring a replacement."

"Wonderful," the mother praises. "What a good employee. Did you hear that, Tom? Don't cry anymore."

The child's eyes are hazy, his face slack except for the mouth. Tear tracks are lining his cheeks, but they have already gone dry and salty. You note, with a shiver going through you, that there is mucus leaking out of his nostrils, which means there will be used napkins left on the table. Please, put it in the plate. Put it in the plate. Put it in the plate, with the other messes.

"Sure thing," you talk aloud, not addressing anyone.

Absentminded, you make your way back to the kitchen. The line cook, Hannah, takes one look at you and grabs your notepad, skimming the orders and doing her work without a word of complaint or a whisper of friendliness. The notepad is stuffed back in your hands, and you're left to stand alone on the door threshold. The skin all over you has pebbled in aggression, the feeling astringent against your psyche.

You un-tense your shoulders, swallowing it down. How long has it been? All day, all you could do was watch the outside wistfully, tracking the shades of blue behind clouds drifting in and out. Darker and deeper it went, but never dark enough, never changing hue to the lovely orange that awaited the end of day. Your uniform has grown damp and saggy around your figure too. As a sweat drop drips down your temple, you notice the rigid curve of your spine, vertebrae packed tightly together.

No wonder. You feel smaller. The work has worn you down in more ways than one. You look down at your hands— and see your wrist bones, jutting out. Your veins are swollen under your skin, and when you turn them over, you can watch the visible proof of your pulse, desperate with each pump, blue and green intertwined.

Thump.

You trace it down your inner arm, dipping into your elbow. It jumps inside your bicep, like the whimper of a wound.

Thump.

Inside your neck, it climbs to your skull. You tilt your head back, unblinking, staring at the tiled ceiling and the sharp fluorescent light overhead, staring back at you. Dark flowers bloom in your vision.

…Thump.

Your neck cracks, bringing relief. You inhale, but the process is chopped. It clings to your throat before surrendering, disappearing into your lungs; you feel its function distinctly with every motion. Your chest rises almost exaggeratedly, and caves in with equal fanfare through every breath. Mechanical. A step in the algorithm.

It's a slow coming realization, impeded by exhaustion: there's no instinct to your body. It moves, it acts, but it doesn't know. It obeys you. But it doesn't obey as it has done for the past decades you've had it. It obeys because it's yours, because you know it should do certain processes in the background of your daily life. It's pure, unknowing, a blank slate of renewal and reduction both.

"It's not empty," you whisper. "I'm not empty. I'm okay."

A clatter draws your attention away. In the other room, TK is helping Hannah prepare orders, which reminds you of the hours and hours left of your shift. You hurry over to help them and deliver the dishes to their respective buyers, taking payments and receiving new orders. Cleaning abandoned tables.

In one, you stop in your tracks.

The slimy napkin you dreaded to death is sitting alone in the middle of the table. You can feel the disgusting paws of the sullen child all over it, soaked into the very air it is surrounded by.

Utilizing a second napkin, you pick it up. Drop it in the plate. Done, you tell yourself, wishing away the trembling. It's over.

You go back to the kitchen. You carry perhaps a dozen plates in one weak hand, though it doesn't quiver— it doesn't have the energy to. They're put beside the sink, just like every other dish that's passed into your hands. Without hesitation (but with a certain resignation) you start washing. Rinse, soap up, scrub, rinse. Metal wool, sometimes. Extra soap for grease. Twist furiously inside the mouths of cups, then let the frothing tap water outpour down the rims, bathing your hands dull beige.

As the water keeps running, you look at the vortex above the drain and exhale.

Chest caves in, rises back up.

It's dark inside. You can see the hint of dark, murky green, laden with moss or something worse that you cannot imagine, but you don't look away.

It's so… unending. You visualize a round, wide-open mouth in its place, and think of the amount gulped down its gullet. You cannot calculate it (too tired, too uninterested) but it makes you freeze and stare a little more intently. How parched, how hungry would you need to be, to consume so wholeheartedly?

You move the cup aside to see it more clearly. The drain keeps working, and the water keeps going, and the smell of wet metal wafts over to you. The vortex, over time, loses its color, then its lines…

Then its sound.

The drain is dark and quiet. There's no telling what lies inside it, but you know. You don't need to see to know, bu̟t̰ ̫y͙o͍̼u̻̪ ̠g̤a͎z̡e into its dept̶h̸s̶,̷ ̴d̸o̶w̵n̷,̴ ̵d̶o̷w̴n̶ ̵t̶h̴e̷ ̷p̶i̵p̴e̴,̸ ̶a̶n̸d̸ ̷s̵q̴u̸i̷s̴h̶̢͍e̶͚ḑ̸ ̷̳i̸̭̱n̴̦͍s̸̫̞i̵͚̠d̶̢ę̷ͅ ̴̣t̵̗̰h̶͔ę̸ ̸̩ț̷̘i̷̩g̷̪͉h̷͎t̵͎ ̶̖t̶͚̣u̴̢n̶̻ͅn̴͓e̵͖l̷̠̬s̷̢ ̶͜a̶̟ṋ̸̪d̴̘͓ ̷̖l̶̖̼a̴̺b̴͈̖y̷̥͙r̷̮̙i̶̙̼n̵̬̦t̵͉h̶̻̞i̶̫ṇ̴̱e̴̫ ̵͎̻n̶̮ḛ̸t̷̗̣w̸̠o̴͓r̷͓k̷͇ ̷̼̩o̵̢ͅf̴͇͜ ̸̡n̶͉o̴̡̞t̶̢̖h̵̥̝i̵̗n̸͍g̵̣̹n̸̫e̸͈͇s̴̯s̶̟̲,̴̼ ̶̲y̶̥o̴͉̫u̷̖̼ ̸͚f̶̖̩e̴ͅe̵̠̜l̷̤̹ ̴̰i̵̯t̵̮ ̴̧͎p̵̱u̴͉l̵͎̥s̴̨͍̖͉̤i̸̞̞ͅn̵̞̤g̸̖̘,̴̪̱̭̝ ̴͖c̶̮͔͕͜o̴̘̰̳̖n̸͔s̵̺̳t̷̗̩r̷̲̭̖͜i̵̩̜̯c̴̡̡̣̪ͅt̴̡͍͇ͅį̵̹͓̙n̶͇̼͎g̴̤̥̠̬.̸͚̘͎̤̼ ̸͖̦͔̗D̵̨̡̼̳r̷͕̗̣͖̜a̵̜̼g̶͙͍̫̤g̴̠̣̲ͅi̶̤̯̝̭͜n̵̨̬̠g̷̨̢͈͔̭ ̵̹̬̩̤̮d̵̡͍̺ͅͅȩ̷̳̣e̷̡̞̩p̴̝̲̳̪e̸̡̳r̴̖̯ͅ,̵̫̘̤̩ ̴̙̞͖̣̝f̶̢̡̼̼͇e̵̙͕̝̤e̷̗͈͕͍ḑ̶̜̭̝̮i̷̼͉̜̪ṉ̵͚ģ̶͍̼ ̴̱̟͙o̴̫n̵͚͉ ̸̡̦͉y̷̯o̶̢͕̣̲u̶̟͓—̷̢

01101000 01110101 01101110 01100111 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110011 01110100 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101110 01110100 01100001 01101001 01101110 01110011 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01101001 01101110 01100110 01101001 01101110 01101001 01110100 01100101 01110011

||SAVE//:01100110 01100101 01100001 01110010||

You stumble back with a desperate, raspy inhale, your chest rising and stuttering in motion. Curled inward, you watch the running sink, the shards of a broken cup crunching beneath your feet.

Some animals eat their prey whole, don't they?

You shudder, sinking to your knees, uncaring for the shattered ceramic. The sharpness sinks into your skin, but doesn't break. Like how play-dough cannot be hurt, because it's not meant to be. You repeatedly and rapidly attempt to restart your breathing process, but something is not responding. The respiratory structures and organs below your neck aren't working.

There's no air. Why are you so calm?

You try to wheeze for a breath. It doesn't work. If anything, it's complicating your work. You try harder. It resists harder. You cannot breathe, you cannot breathe— you drag your hands along the floor where you're lying on your knees, thinking you could crawl away to safety.

"Hey."

You hear a voice, saying your name. It puts a new knot in your throat.

"Are you there? I heard—"

The door opens to let in TK, their eyes searching and worried. When they spot you, they are quick to run to your side.

"Oh my God," they whisper, horrified. Their hands hover for a moment, snapping left and right like they can't decide what to do, and then settle behind you, clutching your shoulder and rubbing your back. "Hey—" Your name, spilling so easily out of their lips. "Come on, calm down, it's okay. You're okay. I— Follow my breathing, okay?"

You stare at them with dead eyes, and unwilling flesh. Nevertheless, they narrow their eyes determination, and begin making their chest move. It rises, rib cage flaring, diaphragm flattening, blood rushing, and you try to follow the rhythm.

A wheeze of air passes through.

"That's it," TK encourages, voice alike a sob, as if mirroring your utter anguish. "The muscles tighten, air comes in… And they soften, air goes out."

Their chest falls back, pulse calming down. You can hear it moving inside them, the friction of bone and ligaments, and the relief of air, blooming into blood.

Your lungs let go. Air passes through, out, and when you breathe next, it goes in as it's supposed to, without error or stubbornness.

TK relaxes. "Yeah. Just like that. You're a natural, aren't you? Passed with flying colors." There's a placid, but worn lull in the atmosphere. "Are you okay?"

Are you ever? You manage a small nod, not trusting your voice— to not crackle or to not burst into wails, no idea which. You've never felt such a wild, discomfiting mix of emotions before; things that have no right lingering close had suddenly tangled together, all without your consciousness noticing.

You imagined that this is how a newborn baby, just out of the womb, would feel. Overwhelmed. Frightened. Lonely, yet not. Out of control, but simultaneously in control for the first time of its existence.

You settled on 'overwhelmed.'

"Good," TK replied, rubbing your back a bit more. "Wait, let me get you some water—"

They stood up to get it, carefully side-stepping the ceramic shards. You should probably ask them not to, but you couldn't even muster the strength to lift your head, so you couldn't protest when TK held the cup tilted for you, matching the flow to the speed of your gulps.

"Dehydration worsens everything," they said. "I remember my mom nagging me about it. She never let me leave the house without drinking a tall glass of water, and the habit stuck. Once I got into college and had my first taste of freedom, I decided I'd cut myself some slack and relax on routine."

"Didn't work?"

TK snorted. "Nope."

They took the cup and washed it at the sink. You remembered that your job won't wait for you, and the customers won't either, so you attempt to stand up… only to flinch away at the sound of clattering shards, falling from your limbs.

TK turns to look at you, but you can only stare at the debris and your unscathed arms. The fragments aren't safe— their edges are sharp, glinting like chef's knives spread out before stove fire, but despite this, as you turn your forearms over and back, you can only see unmarred flesh, without any scarring visible.

What the fuck happened to me, you think.

You were fine this morning. There was no complicated existence to panic about. While you sat beside Peter and talked about nothing, everything felt as pleasant as can be. And here you were now, frozen in fear. Unable to finish even one waiter shift because you were too busy stressing about a defective body.

"Hey," TK calls out to you, "I think you should clock out now."

"Huh?" You can't. The shift's not over yet. And in the game, wasn't today exceptionally busy? You couldn't leave TK to handle it alone— well, technically you could, but you'd feel guilty. You don't want to get used to someone picking up the slack for you, because there was a very real chance that you'd snowball down that rabbit hole.

"Thanks, TK, but I don't wanna push my luck today," you said, kneeling down, and started to collect the shards by the handful. If they didn't hurt you, why not use it to your advantage?

"Jesus— don't just scoop them up! Use a broom at least, what if you get hurt?"

"It's fine, they aren't sharp."

TK didn't seem convinced, but let you clean the mess anyway, taking over dish washing duty instead. You were grateful for that. You didn't know what looking at the drain again would do, and you intended to avoid that fate for as long as you could. Collecting all the fragments on your apron, you dropped them into the trash bin and swept the remaining dust off, rushing out to collect orders and clean tables.

All day, you slaved away in the restaurant; cleaning, serving, dealing with idiots. While you worked, you did your best to hold yourself together, to keep your pieces in one place until the time when you could fall apart, a shattered body all over the couch.

Your lifeline, as it were, was the promise of a nice night out. As you mopped the floor tiles, tidied tables, and topped up coffees along the counter row, your mind went out to the fantasy of a quiet, chilly night, the smell of earth and grass under an empty space. Maybe after the date, Peter could take you to the park? You resolved to ask him about it… once he came back.

You checked the hour: four thirty. Fifteen minutes left until your shift ends. When was he going to arrive? At the very end? That would be incredibly suspicious, and for his sake, you prayed to a higher power that he'd refrain. You didn't mind, per se, but you were the type to just blurt things out without care for propriety, and the more obvious Peter got, the more effort required to keep your fucking mouth shut and not give it away.

Sighing, you threw away an abandoned receipt into the trashcan below the register, and wondered whether it was worth it to keep quiet. He'd catch on eventually, and you'd have to talk.

That's what's scaring you, isn't it?

"Alright," came TK's voice, "out with it. What's up?"

"What's up… with me?"

"Yeah." Obviously, was what followed naturally, but you had learnt that TK had a modicum of tact, so of course they would leave it out. "You've been working here for weeks now, but never have I ever seen you sigh in all our time together— not even when the boss threatened to sack us without severance pay."

Okay, scary. Original Y/N was double scary. Props to whoever they were. "It's… kinda complicated, and I don't think I can explain it without sounding like a maniac."

They grinned. "A dash of intrigue? No prob. Just know that you can tell me any time, any day, alright?"

You seriously didn't deserve this person's kindness. You just didn't. This was such a fact that it didn't even make your heart twinge. When it all crashed down and your life was in shambles, you would have to send them some sort of consolation gift, to thank them for their care.

"Thanks, TK. I wish I could tell you."

"Glad to hear that. By the way, could you check in with Hannah? I think she needs a line chef in the kitchen— I'll handle the customers."

They glance out the window panes, squinting behind their glasses. "Oh, geez. Guess who's knocking on our door? The evening rush."

You turn to look, only to freeze at the sight of a familiar silhouette, barely visible behind the reflection. Same height, same shirt, same gangly limbs, and when you shifted for a better view, you were able to glimpse the face under the hood: a pair of wide-open, bright blue eyes, and a smile curving horrifically.

Yup. That's him.

"Is it me, or… is that guy looking in?" TK asked, discomfited.

"Lookin' in, sorry. That's, uh, my boyfriend."

"Your—" Their head span around in a perfect hundred-eighty degree to goggle at you. "Your— what? This guy? Your—"

They looked back, as though checking whether or not they were hallucinating the creep factor, but no, TK, you thought, that's one-hundred percent natural. All bio creep. No preservatives or artificial coloring added, honest-to-god, bona-fide creep. I'm so fucking sorry to subject you to this.

"Your boyfriend," they said.

"Yeah."

"Just so we're clear, it's not the eighty-year-old man leaning on the cane, but the two-meter tree branch with fangs, right?"

"You're absolutely correct."

TK stared at you speechlessly, mouth moving without words, and you let your vision zoom out into distant lands, resolutely watching the yellow leak stain on the ceiling. Please, end the conversation. Right now.

"You know what," TK said at last. "This is not my problem… If he turns out to be a serial killer, let me know and I'll call the police for you."

"TK, please stop talking. I'm dying."

"You will once he drags you into an alleyway."

You know what they say: first impressions last forever. In Peter's case, it seems he's ardently devoted to push this rule to its worst potential, constantly disturbing the peace in hopes on garnering even the slightest bit of distrust. Why was he watching you creepily at the diner when he could just hang out by your apartment window? That was perfectly private! This is public!

You caught his gaze through the glass, and waved at him. Despite his eerie appearance, Peter broke into an angelic smile, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and waved back. Seeing as you were paying attention, he began mouthing words: Hello. Something that looked like 'darling'. I'm here, followed by a pointed finger at his feet. Then, lifting his wrist and putting his index finger on it, miming a wristwatch. Okay?

Ah, was he trying to hurry you up? Was that a guilt-trip thing, or just an innocent 'Is your shift over?' You'll never know because you'll never ask, and even if you asked, he'd obviously answer with the latter just to gain brownie points. This wasn't the right time to be honest yet. For neither of you.

Before you could get tangled up in unnecessary thoughts, you sent him a thumbs-up and went back into the kitchens. Hannah did need help— there were simply too many orders at once, and Stephan just wasn't good enough of a multi-tasker to handle the extra load. You helped until the workload went back to normal, then clocked out, waving bye to TK as you went back to the entrance.

While you were gone, the sky had darkened, rain clouds gathering above to drizzle drop by drop. When you stepped a foot outside, you were immediately caught in a pair of arms, warmth swallowing you up.

"I missed you all day," your stalker whined, covering the top of your head with his chin. "How was it? Did you get fired?"

You relaxed into the heat, the embrace, releasing a frigid breath. Your head was silent for the first time since this morning, unburdened by worries or distractions. No clutter to push out… Nothing to sigh about.

Just Peter's scent, and his hug, and his excited, pleasant voice.

"Darling?" he asked concernedly. "Was it bad?"

You wrapped your arms around him in return. Mustering the energy to speak was impossible, so you sank further into the comfort, not even feeling the rain soaking your jacket.

"Heh, not that I'm not enjoying this… but are you okay? Do you need— Do we have to reschedule? I don't mind. We definitely can. Anything you want, okay? Just, will you please talk to me?" He sounded a bit shaky. "It's… ha ha, just, it's weird to not hear you when I chatter. You know?"

You force yourself to speak. "It was—"

s̨̺͇̝o̺̱̣ą̡̪͇͇p̨̥̹͎̹̳ ̨͓͕͜u͙̣̫p̥͍̻͙̠,͎ ̢̨̤̙̹͓s̝̼̝̲͜c̡͎̭̭͚r̡͎̗̞͙̥u̺b̧̢͙̬̠͜ ̪͚E̻̞͈̫̦͇X̙̦͓̱͙T̙͓̮R̙Ạ̭ ̧͓̩S̲̗̟͎͎Ǫ͇̲̲͖A̦͕͕͇P̗͇͜ ̘̝͖͇̞f̧͚̥̹o̖͔͈r̙͉̤̪ ͍G̟̺͖R̨͉̤̠̫͓E̲͚E̲̥E̟̯̹E͕̻͙̼̟ḚA̰̮̘͉͈̼S͙̞̳E̬̻ ̢̬͚̼̗̱01101111 01101100 01100100 00100000 01101110 01100101 01110111 01110011r͎̬̭ͅo̼̘̩̯ͅụn̗̱̹̝͈d̩,̨̪̦̭̝͕ ̧̤̜̱ͅw̡͈͖̬̙͕i̱͇d̨̠̯̙͍e̙-̰̳ọ̺̩͍͕̝p̦̦̘̙ȩ͍̹̳n̩͎ ̤͓͍m̢̡͚̣̫͍o̫̰u͙͚̞t̢̜͎̮ḩ̡̜ ͓̝̥̲F̙̘͇̠E̥̪̳͕E̤̲̫̗̯D̫͜ ͍̣M͔̩E̹͕̭ ̳T͍̗̜Ḥ͓͕̭ͅȨ̗̠ ͙W̻͈O̧R̨̙̱̥L̢̨̨̯͜D̥̲ ̞̤̖D̡̗͈̻ ̧̢͓̘D̹̗ ͍̫̙̮̝̬D̫̗͉͚͉ ͉̯̣̠̙T̨̪̮̙H̡̢͇̭͖̦E̘̲͖̜ ̦T͖̗̮H̺E̩̪̳ ̲̻͇̳͖̣T̲͖̞̺͈ͅH̦̠E̗̳ ̩͔̫̞͜I̯̙͓I͙͖̤̬I̧̬̲̱͕͕I̜I̧͕̭͚̭̳I̥I̬̝I͙̦̭̫̝͎I̡̘I̞̺͎̦̬I͎̻̻I̢̢̱̲̹I̡͎̘̰I̤̥I̻̺̞̖̖

d̷̢̢̟̏̂a̶̛̬̘͊͒̾ŗ̵̣̯͇̽͐͊̑k̷̤͎͙͙̎͑̑̌ ̶̻̞̞̻̏͊͑̏d̷̳͉̱̯̽́̆ạ̸̥͙̔͂̊̾r̷͇̿́k̶̥̼̲̐́̈̏ ̵̗̪̯̪̎͆d̴͍̤̞̓a̷̰̟͚͛̊͐r̶͇̋̈́͒k̸̺̻̰͎͆̿̄͠ ̸̡̹̊̀̾͗a̴͈͉̱̻̎̀d̵̝͈̄́̓ã̵̲̩͖r̵̪̞̗̓k̵̗̊͗̀̍ ̷̛̪̖͔̗͒̌ď̵͓̊̅̈́ǟ̴̡̜̈k̶̨̘͚̈̀́ȓ̴͓̽͑k̶̳̺̙̈́̐͛k̶̖͐ ̵̡̪̄͒́̄d̴͍̥́́ȃ̷̺ȓ̶̗k̶͎͊ ̴̯͕̀͑͠k̸͈̝̗̎̑̏f̷̠̳̭͉̍̒̀k̷̛͔̓̾k̵̞̃͋͝k̸̞̎̋k̸̝̀͛̓̕ ̶̟͚̩̈̀̇̀ḍ̸̙̫̣̋̕a̴̲̦͓͒r̵͙͑̂͗k̶̨̻̽̃ ̷̓͜d̶̢͍̳̔͌ã̴̧̬̠͖̉̈k̸̖̞̾͊̇͝r̵̲͔̼͝ ̷̘͚̀̒̿̕k̴̰͈͠d̴̜̭͇̙̐̂͋ã̵̤͔ṙ̷̯̭͂k̶͍̇̑̅̒ ̶̠̥̮̓͘d̵͈̖̃́̏̄á̷̳͔̲̏̈́̚r̶̦̋k̴̨͛ ̴͍͉̄̓d̴̯̓a̵̯̓͋̿ͅr̸̦̻̟̖̄̅̈́̄k̷̲̓̆ ̴̤̤̅d̴̢̖̀̀ͅã̷̡ͅk̷̢̢̥̬̒̿̆̽r̸̥̘͌̀͑͜ ̷̻̔͝W̴͙̱̬̮͒͋̏͝W̷̘͎͠W̸̖̺̃͌̇Ẅ̶̪͙͉́̈́́W̷̔́͋̀̀̈́̔͂̔̂̄̚͝͝͝W̵̍̓͛̂̒͘͠W̸͑̽̃̐̓̒̈́W̷͊̋͑̽̌̈̈́̀͗͊̈́̇́͘͠W̶̆̎̐̊̎́̈́̌̋̀̕̚W̵͌͆̃́̅̇͐̎̑͐͘Ŵ̸̛̀̈̈́͆̈́̎̆̒̀W̶̊̏̒̋̏̐̌̈́́̚W̸̉̋̅͑͆̍͘Ẁ̴͛̂͗̓͆̐͑͌͐͒̕W̶͝ and at the bottom of the drain, you stood, awaiting y̤̏̓̐̕̚͠o̘͆͝ú̢̞͚̲͈̟̲̅̾̄̓r͍̟̝̐̾̃ͅs̢͍̤͂́͝ḙ̰̆̓̿̾̕͝l̛̟͕̬̯̬̲͇̩f̩̻͚̫̽ in your own stomach /// when will you S̸̛̥T̵͖̚O̴̯͌P̸̪̅ ̸̫̀S̸͈͗T̵̲͆Ȯ̴̜P̶̪̑ ̷̲̐S̸̠͊T̷̖̊Õ̷̬P̷̤̉?̴͎͋ ̵̱̉?̸̳̎?̴̖́ fear consumes you, pushes you down its gullet, and you stand here wondering when did you die? M̸E̵E̴E̷E̶E̶ 01100100 01101111 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01101011 E̵E̴E̸E̷E̶E̸E̶E̸E̸E̶E̵E̶E̶—

"—fine," you answer. You were stopped from lingering on it. You recognize it now. "I missed you too. All day."

"You did?" Peter asked. "Really? Missed me? When, how did that happen?"

"Do you want me to describe it like, a case report? Like an interrogation tape? 'Where were you last night, what was your purpose' style?"

"Why not?"

Well, there was it: why not? Maybe it'd make him happy.

"The first time," you started, burying your face into his shoulder. "I was taking orders, and this middle-aged lady came in and tried to ask for a second order on the house because she dropped the first one on the pavement. But in a really polite, aggravating way. You know how some rude people act well-mannered? I wanted to punt her into the curb."

"And then you thought about me?"

"Yeah. I wished you were there so I could get you a second order on my paycheck."

"…You mean, you weren't thinking of me because you wanted someone more reasonable, but because… actually, I don't know. Why did you think that?"

"Well," you murmured, "obviously, because I like you."

Suddenly craving contact, you removed your tired arms from around his waist and put them over his shoulders, around his neck. You had to stand on your tip-toes for that, but somehow, the position wasn't as taxing as it was in your before-life.

Luckily, Peter was there to support you. He crouched a little to reach your legs, then hauled you up under your thighs, carrying you on one bicep with no visible strain.

...Woah.

You were abruptly eye to eye with him— and better, you were privy to the tender little flush on his face, close enough to savor the sight without shame.

"So you'd— put up with me being an asshole just cause you… like me."

You averted your eyes. This closeness seemed to be a two-way street, unfortunately. "Not exactly 'put up with'. I imagined you there and thought, even if you were being a jerk, I'd give you a meal cause you'd look cute eating it."

Was that weird? Double standards existed for everyone--- people would have different thresholds for different people, right? You weren't abnormal in that regard. Were it anyone else, you'd be insulted, exasperated, impatient— with him, your priorities lay somewhere else. You'd have rather died than compensate that customer, but somehow, the image of him stuffing his face full warmed you head to toe.

Your mind flashed back to your dinner date last night. The glow of Peter's round cheeks, the happy sigh of relieved hunger, his languorous, steady heartbeat as it pulsed under your touch. A healthy, full heart. Flowing blood.

Uh, you thought, embarrassed for no reason. Let's not linger.

"You know what," you said. "This is mortifying. Let's talk about something else."

He made a cute little snort, then laughed with bared teeth, molars glinting in the street light. You could barely suppress the urge to smash your mouths together. How dare he smile like that? How dare he make you so happy, with only the movement of his face? You released the want through your breath, let it dissipate.

"Let's go to the van," Peter suggested. Without waiting for a reply, he started carrying you across the crosswalk, one hand gently braced on your hip.

"Peter? Peter! Oh God, I can walk, I can walk I can walk I can walk— let me down, people are gonna look!!"

He paid no heed to your desperate wails, merrily making his way down the road. What an asshole, what a bastard. Your heart was so warm, so squished, so warm.

#your boyfriend game #peter dunbar #yandere #yb #yb peter #your boyfriend #ybf #tw: yandere #yb fandom #yandere games #your boyfriend peter #ybgpeter #yb game #yb fanfic #your boyfriend fanfic #peter yb #peter king

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dobnny · 6 months

Text

@ladiesofhpfest

monthly mini for Ginerva Weasley

Summary: Ginny is being interview by Hannah from Risk-and-Taken, but someone interrupts their conversation.

The interview?

"So, Ginerva-"

"Please, call me Ginny." She corrected the interviewer, with a smile that didn't fully reach her eyes.

"Oh, of course. Ginny, as I was saying how excited are you with the upcoming Quidditch season? Do you think the Harpies has what it takes to win the Quidditch World Cup this year?"

"Well, Han-Han, I definitely believe that-"

"Erm, please call me Hannah," the interviewer from Risk-and-Taken, a new prophet company that was competing with the Daily Prophet.

"Of course, Hannah my apologies." Ginny replied, "I believe that this season the Harpies are certainly going to take a risk and come out victorious at the end. Yes, the odds are certainly stacked against us but there's one thing that we have that the other Quidditch teams lack."

The interviewer leaned in closer, intrigued by the determination in the young Quidditch star. Ginny could tell she was about to ask what exactly makes the Harpies stand out amongst all the other teams. When suddenly the living room became dark, and an unfamiliar muggle song started to play all around them.

Before the lights turned back on, instead of a soft white light, the room the light changed from red to pink. Thick smoke began rising from the ground, quickly spreading throughout the room.

"You don't have to be rich to be my girl. You don't have to be cool to rule my world. Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with. I just want your extra time and your kiss."

"Shit." She muttered, her face burning scarlet....damnit. Why now out of all times. She thought to herself, why couldn't Harry take Dobby with him?

Ginny stared at Dobby, who was wearing- wait was that little butter wearing her favorite jersey? She quilted her eyes, and realized that not only was Dobby wearing the jersey that she wore for her first Harpy match, but he was also wearing a pair of Harry’s grey joggers. It was magicked to fit the house elf, yet it didn’t suit him at all. In fact Ginny noticed how Dobby had to continuously hold onto the sides of the joggers in order to keep them up as he danced in a slow circle.

Merlin’s saggy left-

“Oh, it seems as if I’m in the middle of something intimate….I can reschedule this interview at a later time?” Ginny heard Hannah ask from besides her, almost in a strained voice.

Before she could reply to the reporter, Ginny noticed how Dobby had turned around and was staring at her. His eyes were extra wide open and he was watching her like a hawk, he had the audacity to wink at her as if saying, “you like the show?”

“Dobby, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” She asked, through clenched teeth.

“Ms. Ginerva-“

“It’s Ginny.”

“Oh, yes sorry!” Dobby squeaked out, his face turning a shade of murky green. “Ms. Ginny, I wanted to show my gratitude for letting me serve you.”

She closed her eyes, willing herself to count to ten before reaching for her wand and firing a bat bogey hex to the house elf. After a few deep breaths, Ginny opened her eyes and spoke, “there isn’t a need for all of this, Dobby. Please can you leave? I'm in the middle of a very important interview.”

“But, Dobby needs to express his gratitude! Dobby has been practicing for hours, and this time the socks are clean,” the house elf squeaks out as he gestured to his feet. The pair of “clean” socks that Dobby claimed were a mixture of brown and green. It was also emitting a foul odor from the longer he stood there in front of them. Ginny tried her best to push down the bile in her mouth. Nope, she doesn’t want to even think about what the “dirty” socks even looked or smelled like for the matter.

Another silence stretched between the three occupants, that was until Hannah had decided to break the silence.

“You know what, maybe I should get going. Yes-I will send an owl to your manager and we will fix up a different date.” The reporter spoke with difficulty since she was doing her best to hold in her breath.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll ask Dobby to leave-”

“No! I mean, it’s fine….I’ll make sure to keep in touch with your manager and hopefully we’ll set up another date.” Hannah said as she gathered all her things quickly, “Besides, I believe Donny…?”

“It’s Dobby, Miss,” Dobby replied while attempting to give a lopsided smile to the reporter. It seems as though he tried to get that out of her brother’s Ron’s arsenal, because he would always smile like that to Hermione to get his way. Which worked practically all the time, but the way that Dobby is doing it, it just wasn’t pleasant to see. Ginny wondered if Hannah would end up sending in a restraining order against the house elf, just from the way he was trying to smile.

“Right. Dobby, I believe you two have some sort of conversation to finish, and I truly don’t want to interrupt,” Hannah replied and with that she was already rushing to the floor and before Ginny could even call out to her, Hannah was gone.

“So now that we are alone-”

Ginny pulls out her wand quicker than ever and stuns Dobby into the next realm. That buggering little shit.

#ladies of hp monthly minis #Dobnny #Ginny #Ginerva Weasley

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takeariskao3 · 1 year

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Hi Hannah, I can’t wait for the next chapter of tpfy! You mentioned a couple of next gen tpfy fics you were thinking of writing, are those still in the works?

hi! you sent this message several weeks ago and i didn’t have the heart to answer at the time because i thought it was going to be “i wish but no” type of an answer

and it still *kind of* is a no. or maybe not a no but definitely a not right now, but i figured it’d be fun to share anyway. i do have a story that lives in my head sometimes. i really want it to be about mothers and daughters and sisters and girlhood and growing up. ruby is the main pov character and i imagined the timing to be the summer after her second or third year at hogwarts. it doesn’t really have a plot (and the ones that’s i’ve thrown around feel cliche and/or overdone)

HOWEVER … i do have a prologue. from ginny’s pov and an epilogue too but that’s spoilers

so here, have some mom ginny to soothe the soul (under the cut for length)

Prologue

Parents don’t have favorites.

At least, that’s what her mum always said, even though Ginny never quite believed her. Molly Weasley had seven children, surely she had to prefer one or two over the others. It was only reasonable.

Ginny had asked, of course. Dozens of times. Always as some sort of joke, but still… she’d asked.

It’s Percy isn’t it? Wait, that’s absurd. It’s got to be Bill.

Her mother would sigh and give Ginny her most exasperated expression, then follow it up always with the same statement.

Parents don’t have favorites.

It wasn’t until Ginny was fourteen that she realized she’d asked so many times because she’d always suspected it might be her. And she couldn’t bear the thought of maybe, possibly, once being the favorite and somehow letting her mother down enough that she would lose that designation.

Then, when she was sixteen, she stopped asking altogether.

Because parents don’t have favorites, except maybe when a child gets taken from them forever.

It took until she had her own children to understand the lunacy behind such an idea.

Turns out, it’s true. Parents don’t have favorites. Ginny loves her three children fiercely, without question, without hesitation, and absolutely equally.

However, one caveat to this fact is that her children, however much she loves them all the same, are vastly different from one another. And therefore her relationship with each is distinct and unique, and completely individual to them.

Lily, their first, turned the we into three, and Ginny couldn’t define or quantify the emotion that she felt when Harry held his daughter for the first time. Lily looked just like him, just like Ginny said she would. With jet black hair that stuck up all over the place; bright green eyes that were always observing; and a thin, angular face that never quite filled out, even as a baby. Ginny often joked that she did all the work and Harry got all the credit, but deep down she knew she wouldn’t've had it any other way. Lily gave Harry something he’d never had in his entire life. Someone that was wholly and completely his.

She made them a family.

And if Lily kickstarted the whole thing, James, their baby, completed it. Mostly because Ginny was terrified of following in her mother’s footsteps and somehow birthing twins, but also because James was an impossible act to follow. He never settled as a baby, always kicking and flailing and babbling to his sisters’ delight. As a toddler, he never did things in the right order. One day he couldn’t be bothered to pull up on the ottoman, perfectly content to crawl places at fifteen months old, then the next, he simply stood up and started running. Once he was finally up and going, he never sat still. As a child he was constantly wandering and exploring and yelling “Mum! Look!” right before revealing a toad, or an anthill, or, one time, a very disgruntled opossum.

And that was James: happy, determined, and someone who didn’t even know the concepts of fear or failure existed.

Lily was the overture, James the finale, and Ruby — their sweet, darling Ruby — was the glue that held it all together.

She came pretty soon after Lily. Not Molly Weasley soon, but still, soon. And it’s an understatement to say Ginny was overwhelmed by day to day life with a newborn and a two year old. Thankfully, Lily was pliable enough to get carted between uncles and godparents and the Burrow for little spurts of time when Harry was traveling for work or when Ginny desperately needed a bath. And somewhere along the way, as Lily grew and flourished into independence, Ruby became Ginny’s constant companion. Ruby was her snuggle bug, her little shadow, her mini-me as she was the only one of the three who’d inherited the Weasley copper hair. She’d been strapped to Ginny’s chest in a wrap for the first eight or so weeks of her life, and subsequently got extremely used to Mum’s presence. She wanted held to sleep, not just rocked to sleepy. She wanted “Mummy, hold you?” and “Mummy, cuddles?” anytime, day or night. Even when it was middle of July and they had every window thrown open to coax in some hint of a breeze, Ruby was snuggled into Ginny’s side, sweaty and hot and fast asleep, but never quite close enough to her Mum.

She was hardly ever needy, or dramatic in her attachment, just resolute. Ruby knew what she wanted, and usually, what she wanted was Ginny. However as she got older, her timidity developed into quiet confidence, and then into staunch beliefs of right and wrong. She didn't have to learn what was good or what was bad, Ruby just knew. Inherently. Intrinsically.

She got that from Harry.

Because heavens knew Ginny had her struggles with knowing what was right and what was easy. What she didn’t know, was that it was possible, as a fully grown woman, to look up to an eight year old; but as Ruby stared down a girl twice her size and told her to stop tormenting the birds at the observatory, Ginny knew in that moment that her daughter was quite possibly her hero.

Ruby was also Ginny's to protect. Hers to grow and nurture and advocate for. The other two were just different. Lily had Harry, God-forbid James ever need anyone, but Ruby? Ruby was hers. Ginny would burn the world three times over for any of her children, but she was quite confident in Lily and James’ own potential for conflagration, and Ruby was the only one who would need her to.

Because Ruby wasn't a fire, she was an ocean. Thoughtful and deep, sometimes tumultuous, but steady as the tides.

It took Ginny a long time to understand that her protectiveness was largely unnecessary. Because when it came to fire versus ocean, ocean won. Every time.

But again, just to reiterate, parents don’t have favorites.

#tpfy next gen #the path from you #anon #answered

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