#maybe i blocked them too early lol

[meejijis]

"Why are all SK fans proshippers" Silence fetus

[simpjaes]

I honestly can’t remember if you’ve done this I think you might have I tried checking but my tumbler is kinda a fit funky but like basically it’s like what kind of content Enhypen would post on their twitter with their girl

hyung line + posting nsfw with u on twitter

☆ jay:

faceless fingering and spanking videos. caters to those who want to imagine whoever, but also doesn't want everyone getting off to him or his girl. just wants people to get off to what the two of you do that no one else knows about. he doesn't talk in the videos but definitely lends little grunts if you start moaning. never any full penetration, mostly, probably, just clips of him holding you from behind to reach around and finger you with your legs open. And ofc, videos of you bent over his lap as he swells those cheeks up under his hands. That good shit, that teasing shit. probably drives the followers fucking insane with it too. also, he doesn't follow anyone back lol and occasionally will tweet daddy-like things but they're more towards you than the followers, he'd never tell them that tho.

★ jake:

solo moaning audios and jerk off videos at first. when he gets with u and starts posting full on, full-length fuck videos with you, his fans get like, rly mad lol. which would only make him post more with little captions like "jealous :P?" they stop being so mad when he posts pussy eating videos, or videos where you're letting him hump all up on your thighs. 100% all the femdoms follow you guys, praise you, degrade him etc. honestly, he's probably more of the focus in the videos than you are, until his friends get a hold of it anyway and start making anonymous burner accounts to request seeing him spit in your pussy lol

☆ sunghoon:

rarely videos, but almost always still shots. aesthetic shots in the early morning sun or vibe-lights late at night. His hands always groping a fleshy part of you for all of the pervs to wish the image was a video. Pics of his cock splitting your pussy lips open, even more pics of the lower half of your faces drooling all over each other. he posts that passionate shit, the ones people rt with a "me and who??" if he were to do videos, it would be 100% thigh fucking, blow job, head pushing, and maybe a few of raw pussy on cock grinding. those would probably be more for special occasions, like holidays or follower milestones. def doesn't make money off it tho. prides himself in knowing everyone wants to watch him and his girl play <3

★ heeseung:

he would have no shame. posting tweets like "send me money and ill post my girl struggling to take it all" and posting pics with his dick on your tongue, with you all covered in cum :/ would probably post full on videos but only previews. like 10-15 second clips that loop to get people to pay for more. would probably fuck you in ways people ask him to in private. like the two of you would 100% make money together on twitter, re-making accounts every few months bc people keep reporting the account lol doesn't hide his face either, or yours. humiliation and praise is probably huuuuuuuge. he def blocks ppl if fans ask him to be submissive for once. real life friends def know about the account too lmfao, he does not care if his bros see how he fucks his girl

[grimm-writings]

rainfall

…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!

…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022 

…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.

Dazai

Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.

“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”

The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered

Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!

That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.

Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.

Other days, it isn’t so easy.

He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain.  He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.

He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.

Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days.  Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.

Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.

“You have work today, right?  Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom.  The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit. Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying.  New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later.  Your arms wrap around him without hesitation. “You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him. You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body.  “Yeah.  I want to, though.” To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words. “...Well.”  He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again.  “If you say so.”

Chuuya

Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.

As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.

Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired.  Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.

Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.

You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room.  He wanted to conk out STAT.

He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)

Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while.  He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.

He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon.  If he’s too sleepy though?  …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.

Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him.  He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.

If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him. “Mornin’!”  Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two.  A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking.  Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now. You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently.  As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him. “After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.” Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm.  “Well… I’ll see what I can do.” You smile, digging back into your food.  You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.

Fyodor

It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.

You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.

The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you.  He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.

It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.

Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.

Oh.  Oh he was awake the whole time.

This is a competition to him.

You could almost sigh in disbelief.  For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.

Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.

You don’t remember having this many board games.  How did he do this.

The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts.  You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good.  His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile. “So, did I prove you wrong?” “...What, about having a life?”  You can’t help but roll your eyes.  “You sure proved something alright.” Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note.  “You should treat me more fairly.  I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair. Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh.  “You’ll get it with practice.” “Ah, so there IS a next time.” “Shut it.”

[chiscaralight]

Please, imagine reader giving scara a blowjob while a leg of his is between her legs, and she's just seated on the floor, grinding against his instep while sucking him off? And omg, it's like, in the morning? And she's like, super horny and impatient. So he's eating breakfast while she's under the table like a pet, asking for permission and stuff. Not begging and not trying to pressure him, but just trying to tell him that she's there and doesn't neeeed it, but if he wants too...?? So he 'reluctantly agrees'.

And perhaps they're dating, lol.

Maybe call her a bitch affectionately? lolll

ive been sitting on this request for a couple of days lol. couldn't fit the bitch part, so I used dog instead.

nsfw scara x reader, reader gets called a bitch(affectionate), oral m receiving, morning sex technically

scaramouche sighs dramatically. loud enough so he knows you hear it, but not enough that you'd feel discouraged to pull away. not like a sigh would be enough for you to stop anyway. when he glances under the table, your face is pressed and rubbing against his clothed crotch. its so early, what happened to slow mornings??

the only thing that's slow now is the way you're grinding on his foot while you kiss around his bulge. eyes trained on his as you continue your gentle assault. your eyes are calm, nothing frantic about the way you're looking or moving.

"such a needy bitch. you cant even wait for me to finish eating?"

the only response he gets is a small hum as you close your eyes again. your head is just resting against his thigh now, but you're still rolling your hips against his leg. but you've already created a problem, you're the one that'll solve it.

"fine. go ahead."

he can feel the way you perk up at his words. your fingers are hooking into the waistband of his shorts so he raises his hips to help you out. you’re only dragging them down enough so his cock can spring out. he leans back in his seat, fork long forgotten as it's your hair that's now in his hold.

your mouth is so warm, exactly what he needs now. his usually rough fingers are softly scratching at your scalp. the feeling against your scalp with the way he's flexing his toes underneath you is causing you to whine around his length. you tap at his thigh once, and he hooks both his hands at the back of your head to guide you how he wants. scaramouche keeps his pace calm so you're not too disoriented to keep grinding down. your hips are speeding up now, and he's keeping up well. unfortunately for you, he's cumming down your throat first, riding out his high in your mouth while you're starting to get a little more frustrated than before. he's motioning for you to come up, hand blocking the edge of the table so you don't hurt your head.

[mmmichyyy]

40? for the prompt

#40. "am i your husband or your taxi service?"

the first time it happens, mickey doesn't think much of it.

can you pick me up after my shift? too tired to take the L

when mickey is near the station, he parks the van a block away. force of habit from when he and his brothers used to sneak up and collect from people who owed terry money. plus, he doesn't particularly want ian's coworkers to see their stolen ambulance, even though it's completely unrecognizable after debbie helped them revamp the entire thing and paint over it with the logo sandy designed.

here

i don't see you

i'm parked a block away

pick me up at the station

your legs don't work?

i'm tired :(

i drove the van

it's fine no one will be able to tell lol

mickey rolls his eyes and drops his phone in the cupholder. as he pulls up across the street from the station, he sees ian standing on the curb, chatting with someone wearing a matching EMT uniform, a shorter man with tan skin and curly hair.

mickey honks once, a bit impatient since he's hungry as fuck and there's a large pizza he ordered earlier waiting for them at their apartment. ian lifts his head and smiles. as he waves goodbye to his coworker and jogs over to the van, mickey doesn't miss the way the dude is gaping at mickey with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

the hell is this guy's problem?

"everything okay?" mickey asks, once ian buckles his seatbelt and reclines his seat.

"just tired." ian yawns. "had a long shift today."

"well," mickey puts the van in drive, reaching over the center console to ruffle ian's hair, promptly forgetting ian's weird coworker, "i already ordered a pizza so we can eat then turn in early."

ian smiles sleepily and interlaces his fingers with mickey's. "you're the best husband ever."

mickey shakes his head, biting back a smile. "sappy fucker."

*

after almost two weeks of ian asking to be picked up, mickey suspects something is up. not that he minds or anything, since he makes his own schedule nowadays. after the security business started turning a profit and ian went back to being an emt, he hired a couple of guys to drive the routes so he could work from home and catch up on admin work, freeing up a lot of time in his day to day.

but ian never used to mind the commute. he's the kind of long-legged freak who liked to take the scenic route and go on long runs in the morning, just for fun. absolutely deranged behaviour, in mickey's opinion. but lately, ian has been flashing his kicked-puppy eyes and asking to be chauffeured like a pampered prince and, well. mickey could never resist spending more time with his husband, so he hasn't said anything. not yet, anyway. god he's so whipped.

the excuses ian came up with, however, were more unbelievable as it went on, ranging from the train broke down (mickey knew for a fact it didn't), to spraining his elbow (though he had no problem throwing mickey on the bed later that night with his supposedly injured arm), to how it was going to rain later (it was sunny all day without a cloud in sight).

when mickey tried to call him out on his bullshit, ian either got down on his knees or flipped mickey over and fucked him senseless into the bed, promptly making mickey forget what the hell he was trying to say.

it's gotten to the point where ian stopped making excuses and simply asked mickey to come get him. which truthfully, mickey doesn't mind at all. but he just finds it odd how his beefy athletic husband had gotten so lazy.

"what's with you?" mickey finally asks one day, as ian climbs into the passenger seat.

ian blinks innocently. "what do you mean, dear husband of mine?"

mickey rolls his eyes. "am i your husband or your fuckin' taxi driver? 'cause i've been picking your ass up every day for the past two weeks when you have two perfectly functioning legs."

ian huffs, crossing his arms. "maybe i just want to spend more time with you."

"we live together," mickey points out flatly, "how much more time do you need?"

"i–"

a tap on the glass interrupts them, and mickey turns to see a woman with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, enthusiastically gesturing at him to roll down the window.

"the fuck?" mickey turns to ian, whose face has turned slightly pink. "did you forget something at the station?"

"ah, no." ian scratches his head sheepishly. "sue is just being... sue."

sue waves her hand again and mickey reluctantly lowers the window.

"mickey, this is sue, my supervisor, and sue, this is–"

"the elusive husband." sue grins. "i've heard a lot about you, mickey."

mickey raises his brow. "have you now."

"oh sure," she says, ignoring ian's frantic head shaking, "ian won't shut up about you, yapping on and on about mickey this and mickey that. we're all jealous at the station actually, everyone just complains about their partners while ian keeps gushing about how perfect and amazing his husband is. his words."

"huh." that explains a lot, actually, why there was always someone different waiting with ian every time he came to pick him up, and why they all stared at him like a circus freak. "well, i bet ian didn't tell you the time we stole an ambu–"

"okay," ian cuts in loudly, reaching over to turn the key in the ignition, "we're leaving. i'll see you tomorrow, sue."

"come to the company picnic next month," sue calls out. "it's a potluck and everyone is bringing their family. it'll be fun!"

"uh sure," mickey says, even though a social gathering with ian's nosy coworkers sounds like the least fun thing he's ever heard of. he looks over at ian, slumped in his seat, avoiding mickey's eyes. "I'll check my schedule."

once mickey drives around the corner, he playfully flicks his finger at ian's temple and ian rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"you yap about me to your coworkers," mickey teases. "you're so fuckin' whipped."

"whatever," ian grumbles. "stupid sue calling me out."

"is that why you keep asking me to pick you up?" mickey asks, amused. "to parade me around like a little show dog?"

"well, eduardo blabbed to everyone he saw you, then everyone kept asking about you and wanted to see you in person, so..."

"hm." mickey reaches over and brushes his thumb over ian's palm. "what do you say about me?"

ian links their fingers together and sighs. "that you're attentive. funny. caring. protective. loyal. the ideal man."

mickey laughs. "you're really overselling me here, gallagher. did you forget i'm an ex-convict, pimp and drug dealer?"

ian waves him off and continues. "kind. loving. perfect in every single way, except when you leave your socks on the floor. oh and that you're hot as hell with an ass that won't quit."

"you talked about my ass?"

"okay, i didn't say the last part," ian amends, "your ass belongs to just me. but i meant everything else i said."

"you really are a sappy fucker."

"you love it."

"i'd love it even more if i didn't have to be your chauffeur every day, at least they get paid to drive back and forth."

"you come with me to the picnic, i'll pay you with favours in bed. i'll even throw in a big tip."

"a big tip, huh..."

[beybaldes]

Karma is the guy on AFC Richmond, coming straight home to me!

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent × gn!famous!reader (loosely inspired by Taylor swift and Travis Kelce)

summary: “kisses with a height difference” requested by two anons <33

an: okay you can actually thank the queen of my heart @onceuponaoneshotfanfic for my sudden (although potentially one night only we’ll see if I get my uni essay done lol) return because she reposted a celebrity prompt list and it got my mind whirring oops love you tally thank you for breaking my writers (and reading) block <33

“Hot.”

One simple word had sent your 68 million instagram followers into an absolute frenzy, and half of them, you were pretty sure, didn’t even know who Roy Kent was.

“‘So nice of them to put this football player on the map?’ They do know I was famous long before you ever were, right?” You only laughed as Roy grew more frustrated, allowing him to scroll through your Twitter account while you made the both of you some breakfast.

“Hey, maybe they have a point?” You tried to stifle your laughter, knowing Roy’s eyes would be sending daggers into your back, though only for a moment so he could continue winding himself up over the things people were tweeting. “I mean Richmond tickets have now sold out for the rest of the season.”

Roy knew you were only joking. Well, kind of. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, recently celebrating your one year anniversary, but besides the odd article about each of you potentially seeing someone, no one knew you were together - let alone that you even knew each other. Keeley had been blowing up Roy’s phone since she saw the comment demanding to meet you, her favourite superstar, and you’d woken up to 37 missed calls from your dad, furious you hadn’t told him you were dating Chelsea legend Roy Kent.

Above everything, you’re still in disbelief Roy tried to hard launch your relationship in the comment section if your most recent instagram post on a random Tuesday evening.

“Hmm, and I’m sure your next tour is going to sell out 10 times faster now the world knows you’re with the great Roy Kent.” Roy had given up on reading tweets speculating about what his comment meant and if the two of you were together, instead choosing to press his bare chest agains your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you finished up breakfast. Fortunately you knew, Roy Kent or not, your next tour was going to sellout. Though you’d rather have Roy be by your side for it.

“Maybe if I’m lucky.” Putting down your fork, you turned in Roy’s hold to face him, standing on the very tips of your toes to press a lovingly slow kiss to his lips. Since dating Roy, you were certain early mornings were for breakfasts that take too long to cook and kisses that end too soon for your liking. Roy’s grip on you tightened and he dipped his head slightly, making the kiss as easy on you as possible. When you began to pull away, he only ducked his head further to press his lips back against yours. “Mmm, although I’d already consider myself very lucky.”

“That you are.” Roy murmured against your lips, immediately pressing them flush against yours when he’d said his piece. “And so am I.”

an: okay short and sweet but I’m hoping to get back in to writing and get up to date with my requests now that I’m settled at uni and with my new job. Missed you guys hope you all are well <33

[scoonsalicious]

5.4 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, explicit sexual content (hand stuff, fingering) Minors GTFO: I don't serve your kind here.

Word Count: 900

Previously On...: Lily knows Bucky's been lying to her, and she's surmised he's on a date. That's got to end.

A/N: Posting a little early today to make up for yesterday being so late!

I've decided to postpone my break by a few days, so I will give you Chapter 6 in its entirety before I take my mini-hiatus. It's only three parts long, so I will start my break on Thursday, 5/16 and resume posting on Thursday, 5/23. It's a better place in the story to leave you, a little bit more dramatic than at the end of this chapter, like I had originally planned, lol. It felt off leaving you all here.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You flopped your body down onto your bedsheets with a giggle. “Full marks, Sergeant,” you gasped between panting breaths. “Once again.” It was all the two of you could do to get back to your apartment without ripping each other’s clothes off.

Bucky laughed and came to lay down alongside you, propping his head up on his vibranium arm. Leaning over, he bent down to kiss you. “I couldn’t have done it without you, doll” he said with a grin, but then his face grew serious. “Seriously. It’s never been like this with other girls.”

You blushed and playfully pushed at his rock hard shoulder. “Come on, Bucky,” you said with a laugh. “You’ve already got me naked and exactly where you want me; you don’t need to sweet talk me.”

Bucky placed a hand on your sweat-slicked hip, gently turning you to your side so you were facing him. “I’m not,” he told you, searching your eyes with the utmost sincerity in his expression. He pushed back a strand of damp hair away from your face. “I’ve been with… well, a fair number of girls over the years.” At the raise of your eyebrow, he held his flesh hand up defensively. “What? I’m 105 years old, doll. I’ve been around the block.” You couldn’t hold back your laugh at that, and he kissed your nose before continuing: 

“Like I said, a fair number of girls. And none of them, not a single one, ever made me feel the way I have when I’m with you.” He cupped your cheek in his hand and you felt your cheeks flame in a blush. “Come on, sugar. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. That this,” he took his hand off your cheek to motion between your two bodies, “isn’t something special.”

“It’s been a little over a day, Bucky,” you chastised him gently with a smile, afraid to admit that you, too, felt this was something unique. “Maybe thirty hours?” Thirty hours in which the two of you had somehow managed to have sex eight times, not that you were counting. You couldn’t believe how quickly he was able to get it up again after he came, but he’d assured you that was his favorite side effect of the serum that had made him a super soldier. It had quickly become your favorite, too.

Bucky’s face fell, and you realized that he wasn’t going to judge you if you told him the truth, because he felt it just the same. “The best thirty hours of my life,” you clarified, tucking your fingers under his chin so you could bring his gaze back up to yours. “And yes, I feel it, too. It’s never been like this before. Not with anyone else.”

“Not even with your ex-husband?” Bucky asked with a playful smirk.

“Especially not with Conner,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “Took me years to teach that man where my clit was, and even on his best days, he still needed a map.”

“Oh, you mean this, right here?” Bucky deftly slid his hand between your thighs, finding your hub of nerves almost instinctively and began to lightly trace it with his finger, sending an electric tingle through your body. 

“Fuck, yes,” you exhaled, reaching up to grab Bucky’s shoulder for support as he increased the pressure. He moved his metal arm from under his head and slid it behind your shoulders as he pulled you flush with his chest.

“I got you, sweet girl,” he murmured into your hair as he moved his fingers faster against you, occasionally dipping them down to your entrance to collect some of your slick for lubrication. You hitched a leg up over his hip to allow him better access to your core. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” you moaned, feeling yourself building to the crescendo. Taking your hand off his shoulder, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his movements so you could grind your desperate cunt against his hand.

“Do you want my fingers, sugar?” Bucky panted. You looked up at him to find his gaze locked on where his hand had vanished between your thighs, his pupils completely blown from lust. “Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers until you squirt all over me?”

You couldn’t even get out a coherent word, just a pathetic whine that turned into a near scream when Bucky plunged three of his digits into you. The air was full of the frantic sounds of your combined breathing, along with the rapid squelch of his fingers driving in and out of your cunt with a speed you didn’t know was humanly possible. It felt like he was hitting every part of you, even parts you didn’t know existed until now. Every time with Bucky felt that way.

“How you doing, sugar?” Bucky asked as he continued to drive his fingers home. “You okay?”

You nodded and grunted in the affirmative, loving how he always checked in on you. You were so much more than okay. You were transcendent. 

Soon, you felt that intense, unfamiliar build up that only he had been able to pull out of you once before, on the living room floor. The pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t see straight and you were exploding all over again, clinging to Bucky for dear life as you screamed his name. 

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[marzipanandminutiae]

You don’t like 1920s, 1940s AND 1950s fashion? Damn what did the mid-century do to you lol. K but seriously why not the 50s? The skirts had volume and were long-ish (at least in high fashion) and blouses were well structured and fitted and often had embroidery or embellishments.

Obviously I don't hate ALL of it; no era is a monolith. But there are a few things these eras have in common that I hate:

The rise of synthetic fabrics, AKA Using Plastic To Make Clothing. We're now at a place in terms of clothing where its actively harder and more expensive to wear natural fibers than to wear clothing made entirely of a substance that leaches into our water, holds odors, makes us sweat more, doesn't generally last as long or admit as much repair over time as most natural textiles, and just Kind of Sucks all around except for a few very specific purposes. Synthetics weren't invented in the 1920s, and natural fibers were common in all of these eras than they are today, but it was definitely increasing amounts of "BUY THESE NEW EXCITING PROGRESSIVE MODERN FABRICS!!!" throughout the early and mid-20th century. Which pisses me off in principle.

Less practical garments unless you lived a very specific lifestyle- namely, access to washing machines and a willingness to launder clothing after just one wear. Modern clothing is just not great unless you have access to very frequent washing (see above re: holding odors more than many natural fibers) and barrier garments to keep sweat away from them and stretch the time between washes aren't a thing anymore for most people. In the eras mentioned, everyone was getting so excited about machine laundry capabilities- and who wouldn't? washing machines ARE a huge boon! no denying that! -that they shifted away from modes of dress designed to minimize the necessity of laundering outer clothes. Except now, with concerns about the aforementioned microplastic leaching from washing machines draining into municipal sewers and less mendable clothing- washing is a huge strain on garments, and wears them out faster if you do it too often -we need to be getting back to the system of having fewer but higher quality garments and washing them less often. Except we can't. Because some idiot in the 1920s said "whoopee nobody will ever need linen combinations or chemises that actually serve a purpose anymore!" and the subsequent decades continued it.

The silhouettes generally do not spark joy for me. 1920s actively makes me fly into a rage and scream into pillows, with the exception of robes de style MAYBE. 1940s...well, let's say there was a reason the New Look was so popular, and that's "no more boxy utility wartime clothes." I will give 1940s the hair prize here, though, because I like it better than any other decade 1920s-50s. I actually DO like the New Look! ...but not its combination with the bullet bra; yikes. This is highly subjective.

Some of the textiles, patterns, colors, and common embellishments used are just not my thing. I don't go in for Bold And Graphic And Geometric anything, usually. With a very very small number of exceptions. Polka dots and florals are also not my thing (unless the florals are on a dark background). Plastic jewelry? Hard pass. ~Fun~ motifs like fruit (except pomegranates which have Goth Appeal), the poodles on a poodle skirt, household objects, transportation, etc? No thank you; reads too Kindergarten Teacher for me. Again, not universal or exclusive to those eras- witness the 1880s chicken-print dress I saw an illustration of once -but more prevalent, to my eyes.

Hair. 1920s bobs make most people's heads look blocks. I love a good bob, but those are not Good in my opinion. 1920s Up Hair is usually meant to mimic a bob. 1930s was only a little bit better. 1940s, as I've said, was skirting the line for me and marginally acceptable. 1950s took us right back to a solid Nope with either short poodle cuts or pageboys as the main options for adult women. An occasional chignon maybe, but nothing else that appeals to me personally. just not great all around.

All of these eras were holier-than-thou about the Victorians and their fashion, which I love, so I'm petty about it. Yes please tell me more about how your plastic bullet bras or potato sack dresses are inherently superior to Grandma's elegant and comfortable long wool skirts with the perfect center back pleating. Oh, the 1860s were the ugliest fashion period ever in your opinion? Fascinating. I am setting your car on fire.

I actually DO like the New Look...which is heavily inspired by mid-19th century fashion, so that's not really any big surprise. Still has the issues with synthetic materials and the end of practical undergarments, though. Also, why stop at mid-calf for everyday skirts? Instep Or Bust You Cowards.

[jinhyun]

—sunshield.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, humor probably, established relationship, changbin and minho are two menaces in this

word count: 1.5k

summary: when the sun hits your sound asleep boyfriend's eyes and you take it upon yourself to block it and protect his dreams. regardless of all the teasing you will get from your friends.

a/n: thissss is a small present for the best friend i could've made on this hellsite 🤧🩷 you know who you are, u a real one. i took this idea bc Mother Hen™, but i really liked the other two you sent me so don't mind me if i ever write them lol. i hope you enjoy, and happy birthday!! hope you have a good one out of many many more 🩷

Sometimes you wondered if you were becoming delusional.

Staring at some guy for longer than it could be considered normal surely did seem delusional to you, especially when he was fast asleep and therefore unaware of your stare.

But, then again, he wasn't just 'some guy'. No, he was your boyfriend. And maybe that was good enough of an excuse for you to stare at him for minutes and minutes, at any time of the day, and even at night, as sleeping right next to him in the comfort of his familiar arms was a privilege you'd be damned to ever take for granted.

So, you stared.

For as long as your eyes were open and your neck didn't hurt from the way it was turned in order to be able to get a glimpse of him, you stared.

As Minho drove and Changbin on the passenger's seat turned up the volume of the radio right as 'Heartbeat' by 2PM started to play, singing along obnoxiously as ever to it, your eyes remained fixed on Hyunjin next to you. His head rested on your shoulder as small snores abandoned his mouth every couple of seconds, somehow —much to your surprise— completely unaware of all the noise surrounding him inside the car.

It had been a long day, in the best way possible. Chan and Felix had suggested you all should have a beach day together during their small break after promotions, and although Hyunjin hadn't been too keen on it at first —as he would've much rather stayed home with you, alone—, your excitement over the idea had been enough for him to give in.

It turned out to be a good call in the end, for you both got to spend a nice, fun time with your friends without having a single worry in the world, and Hyunjin still got to have you all to himself like he wanted somehow. He found out that day that sharing a towel and napping together while everyone else was in the water, hearing the sound of the waves in the background while the light breeze of them reached your bodies, could easily become one of his favourite things to do with you.

You woke up early that morning, making sure to pack everything you could possibly need throughout the day before you met the guys and the group got divided in two cars to head over to the beach — one driven by Minho and one driven by Chan.

You had gone with Minho in the morning, as you could use some boost of energy from the carpool you knew was about to happen in it. And it turned out to be so much fun in the end, that you and Hyunjin decided to go back home on the same car as well.

Right now, as Hyunjin slept beside you and your friends had their own little party in the front, however, you couldn't help but think that maybe you should've taken Chan's car on your way back.

Regardless of your concern, a loud laugh escaped your throat when Minho joined in on Changbin's singing, and you had to physically quiet yourself down by placing your hand over your mouth —the one that wasn't intertwined with Hyunjin's— not to wake up your sound asleep boyfriend.

Your eyes fixed on him for the hundredth time on your ride back home, smiling softly as ever when you felt him move his head higher up on your shoulder, after a small turn on the highway made him lose balance for a second.

His eyebrows furrowed prominently and his eyes closed tighter, making you realise only then that the sun about to set was now directly on his side of the car, hitting his eyes just the right amount to disturb his dream. It was also hitting your eyes, to be fair, but that didn't seem to matter in the slightest.

Without giving it a second thought, you raised your free hand up to his eye level, smiling to yourself when the shadow provided by your hand blocking the sun formed a small mask over his eyes and they visibly relaxed once again.

Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, you lovingly rested your head on his for a moment before you went back to making sure your hand wouldn't lose its balance and no longer shield the eyes of your beloved from the sun.

"You're so whipped" Changbin's teasing statement brought your eyes up to the rearview mirror, so they could lock with his.

"No, I'm not" you poorly fought back.

"You are, though" Minho joined.

"He's tired, I just want him to rest as much as he can" you pouted. "I'd do this for any of you guys".

They both laughed, earning a roll of eyes from you.

"First, Hyunjin would flip if you ever did that for anyone but him" Changbin pointed out with a light laugh.

You laughed under your breath, sneaking a glance to your boyfriend. He would indeed flip if you ever did for someone else even the smallest of things he considered to be 'boyfriend privilege only', and blocking the sun from hitting their eyes as they slept for sure was part of the list.

"Second, no, you would not".

"Yes, I would?" you couldn't help but sound offended now.

"Y/N," Minho's voice brought your attention to him. "You haven't even acknowledged Han the entire ride".

As if a bubble around you had just been bursted, you instantly felt a faint pressure on your left shoulder. And it was only then you realised Han had been sleeping on it the entire time.

It was only then you even remembered he was in the car, right next to you, to begin with.

Definitely not one of your proudest moments.

Your face right then must've given your sudden realisation away, for the two guys in front let out a laugh that turned out to be loud enough to finally wake Hyunjin up.

"Aish, guys" you called them out, feeling your boyfriend groan quietly next to you.

"Sorry" they both said in unison.

"What's going on?" Hyunjin asked with a hoarse voice — eyes finally opening by complete and being met with your hand hovering them.

"Nothing," you hushed him, pulling him back onto your shoulder. "Go back to sleep, baby".

He pouted, having realised what you had been doing all along and being unable to stop his heart from melting.

Instead of saying anything, as he was just waking up and still a bit out of it, he pressed a small kiss to the crook of your neck.

"I love you" he smiled, closing his eyes before he could notice the goosebumps both his lips and words had caused to appear on your skin.

"Gross" Minho gagged.

"Focus on driving" you called him out, earning a squint of his eyes from the rearview mirror.

"Ever heard of multitasking?" he bit back.

"Obviously she hasn't," Changbin snorted. "Otherwise she wouldn't have neglected Han like that".

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't realise he was sleeping on my shoulder".

"He's what?" Hyunjin jumped up — all traces of sleepiness suddenly gone.

"He fell asleep on your girl's shoulder" Binnie added fuel to the fire, with a smirk from ear to ear at that.

"Yah, Han Jisung".

"Don't," you stopped him before he could wake Han up, like he had just reached his hand out to do.

"But he—"

"Don't be mean" you tightly held his hand in yours when he managed to lightly push him off.

Thankfully, Han seemed to be in another dimension by now.

"And she said she would've blocked the sun from his eyes too, had she noticed" Minho added.

Hyunjin turned to you, with a simple raise of his eyebrow accusing you of having ever said such words of betrayal.

"He's my friend" you nonchalantly remarked to everyone in the car.

"And I'm your boyfriend," Hyunjin reminded you. "Han can get his own partner to block the sun for him".

"But he doesn't have one yet" you pointed out.

"Too bad," he shrugged. "You're mine".

Considering the conversation to be done with that last statement of his, he went back to rest his head on your shoulder — this time burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a contented sigh when you rested your head on him.

"So you're just gonna let him sleep on Y/N's shoulder?" Changbin pushed it.

"Y/N didn't let me wake him up" Hyunjin shook it off, eyes already closed as his fingers looked for yours and intertwined them again. "But she's my sunshield only, though".

You chuckled, pressing your lips to his head and having him bring your hand up to his mouth to return the kiss. "That I am".

As for Han, although he took no part in the whole argument, he would have to either look for his own partner or learn not to lean on your shoulder when he was unconscious from now on.

Hyunjin wouldn't let this behaviour slide a second time.

[seeingivy]

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader 

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 

previous part linked here

- 

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 

“Okay. Are you sure?” 

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 

All the more reason to do this. 

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today? 

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Jean.” 

“What are you wearing?” 

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 

“You wore the rival's colors.” 

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 

“How much did you hear?” 

“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 

“Um so-” 

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 

“You have to change. Like now.” 

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 

“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 

“It’s just a color.” 

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 

My girl. 

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” 

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.” 

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 

Asshole. 

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 

“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so. 

- 

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 

So this is where Eren gets it from. 

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 

You tap him on the shoulder. 

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 

“His roommate? Since when?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 

“I’m Sasha.” 

“And I’m Connie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did Eren become your roommate?” 

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 

“I might have an idea.” 

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 

“What playlist?” 

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 

“So. Is it about you?” 

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 

“Hm.” 

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 

“We have his wallet.” 

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 

So you don’t. 

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 

-  

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 

“Ren?” 

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 

“Everything okay, kitty?” 

“Uh. I might have messed up.” 

He stops, turning to face you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” 

“What? 

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Yeah. How’d you know? 

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 

- 

next chapter linked here

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[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Captain Boomerang x GN!Reader word count: 840 a/n: don't tell me these aren't the kinds of texts this idiot would send when he was trying to convince you to send him nudes. he's not subtle. and he's very cheesy lmao cw: begging, teasing, edging (kinda!! very loosely lol), masturbating 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

Usually, laying in bed at the end of a long day was George's favourite time. Alone, hand down the front of his underwear, a whole internet's worth of porn at his fingertips. But as helazily stroked his cock, he closed the tab he was scrolling down and opened his messages.

"Oi you up?"

You were just setting your alarms when his message came through, and you rolled your eyes but smiled as you typed a reply.

"I am awake. Why?"

"Just wondering!"

"I'm bored."

"And horny."

George's hand gripped his length harder, watching the three little dots dance as you typed. In his mind, you were writing something filthy, something that would have him cumming quick enough that he could still get an early nigh. But that dream faded quickly.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"You could come round?"

Again, wishful thinking had him building up his hopes and watching them be immediately dashed.

"It's so late! And I'm not getting the night train for a booty call!"

Fed up of being teased, despite that being his own fault, George chose to call you instead, opening the call rudely without saying 'hello' in response to you.

"I could come and get you, pick you up in the van?"

"Absolutely not, you are not going to drive that noisy ass van anywhere nearmy apartment this late at night. I don't want to be evicted!"

Again, George sighed, moving his palm from his cock as he realised even hearing your voice wasn't going to do it for him, especially not if you were yelling at him. But then he realised he hadn't actually asked you to at least put a seductive tone to your words. So he risked it.

"Well, there's other ways you could satisfy my urges, love."

"That's what porn is for."

"Aw come on! Everyone's seen everything online. It's so much hotter to get something that no one else has seen. And especially if that something is a dirty little something from you."

"Dirty little what?"

"I dunno... a picture, maybe?"

Your silence left enough space for him to get his hopes up once again. The fact that you hadn't immediately said no had his cock tingling, and he pressed his palm to it, pushing down on it and stroking firmly above his underwear. And when you finally spoke, he was worried it might be enough to make him actually cum.

"Alright, fine."

"Aw fuck yea-"

"BUT! Only if you send me one first."

The words sounded so sweet, so seductive, that he was immediately flushed, hanging up without even saying much more than an excited 'fuck yeah'.

Gripping his phone in his hand, he jumped out of his bed and made his way over to the mirror on the wall by the door. His first attempt at a pose involved him flexing his arm muscles, tensing his abdomen so that the muscles below the layer of soft fat were visible as he tried to figure out how to pout. But he felt ridiculous, worried that it would only open him up to mocking from you for trying too hard.

So, instead, he reached under the band of his underwear once more, teasing his cock with a few quick pumps before pulling it out and shifting his booxers down.

He admired himself in the mirror, his thick length impressive, even if he did think so himself. Surely, you'd be so grateful to receive an image of it in his hand, his body a frame, a bonus, to the main show of his cock.

Maybe you'd be so grateful that you'd send him back a video. Your fingers pressed into your cunt, two of them, maybe three, so you could pretend it was him there. The glint of the light caught in your slick, your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed, cut off by the top of the frame. Sweet sounds of your moans echoing, there on his phone to save for future use, whenever he needed it.

The lengthy process of arousal and then flatlining had worked him up, and quicker than he realised, he was crossing over the line into his climax, legs shaking as his back arched and he came in his hand.

Without stopping to think about it twice, he took a quick snap of his palm, cum collected on his skin, and began typing another message.

"Sorry to be a tease, love, but I've sorted things out myself. You could get on the earliest train in the morning though cos I'll be ready to go again by then x"

With the text there was an image, George's palm sticky with his cum. Usually, the kind of image that would have disgusted you, but now you were looking lustfully, wishing you'd played at least some active part in that outcome.

Not the effect you'd hoped to have. As fun as it was getting to experience George getting edged, you hadn't expected to end up being the one who was left desperate.

[spoiled-milk]

blush blush bed head cannons [ft nimh, volks, kelby, ichiban, scale, logan, cashew, aki, haru, fuyu]

a/n: i am alive i promise!!! um i definetly didn't disappear off the face of the earth did not happen at all y'all. i have so much brainrot ideas but i've hit writers block so hard. spent who knows how long reformatting this blog.

content warning: none i think? slight mentions of the guys being all touchy touchy but that’s it. also not proofread

word count: ~1.8k

nimh

very very very VERY SHY

will not physically touch you not because he’s scared of you but because he’s scared of violating some sort of boundary

will put a wall of blankets between y’all

probably has at least one stuffed animal on his bed

if he’s feeling ballsy, maybe nimh will hold your hand but unless you initiate it he’s probably not gonna make any moves (platonic or romantic)

his back faces away from you when you sleep, but when he knows you’re asleep, he will turn over and stare at your cute nose and pretty eyelashes and the rising and falling of your chest to help him sleep

he would probably wake up before you so, unfortunately, you don’t get to catch him sleeping :(

volks

awkward but not in a creepy way he’s just so awkward promise guys

he would also be one to sleep facing away from you

he sleeps early and has a strict sleeping schedule (8 hours a night no exceptions according to his manager)

if you’re over at his house it doesn’t matter if you need to do some hw or other work you are going to bed with him at 10pm

he claims he’s not a cuddler, but deep down in my heart i believe that he will snuggle you in your sleep when he's confident that you're asleep

it would start where you two sleep on opposite sides but then when you wake up in the middle of the night for the bathroom, he’s got his hands on your upper back and another one on your lower waist

at this point you don’t have to the heart to wake him up, so you drift off to sleep again

volks wakes up in the morning horrified that he was all up in your personal space but a part of him wants to go back to sleep because you’re so warm and snuggly

kelby

early to bed early to rise type person because duh he’s an athlete

sleeps at 9pm so that he can be up at 5am for his morning jog lol

big on physical affection so will probably snuggle you on your sleep

if y’all are sharing a bed, he probably has a twin bed that he’s too tall and too attached to so you will have to sleep on top of him (not that he’s complaining though lol)

lives to spoon you. he loves the feeling of cradling you like a heated up stuffed animal

honestly, i think he would fw being small spoon too but he knows because of how tall he is, it would be difficult on his partner. but if you went out of your way to cradle him and run your fingers through his hair he would probably melt

kelby has no problems sharing beds with you as long as you don't have problems sharing with him

ichiban

definitely more on the shy side without a doubt you can't convince me otherwise

ichiban for sure has an abhorrent sleep schedule. sometimes he'll be in bed and out by 10pm and wake up at like 8am but other times he'll stay up until 4am and sleep in until 12pm

would want nothing more than to hug you tight in his sleep but the thought of you being so close to his body tells him otherwise. so if y'all are in bed together, you're probably gonna have to initiate snuggles if you want them

he probably rolls around in his sleep lmao but he has a king sized bed probably, it wasn't so pleasant when he had a smaller bed like a twin sized bed

ichiban will sleep with his back against the wall. he also sleeps in just boxers / pajama pants

scale

another person with a terrible sleeping schedule probably

he has tried to fix it desperately, but with training and his assassination thing, it's difficult

i would like to imagine that he has a futon to sleep on to help with his posture or something idk

if y'all share a sleeping space, he will put two or three pillows between you and him

that only applies if he sleeps at all around you, yk someone has to be awake to watch over (you’ll have to remind him you’re not in immediate danger)

he definitely would put like a bunch of things in front of the doors or windows that make a lot of noise if dropped or moved so that he wakes up if someone were to break into his home while asleep

you’ll need to teach him how to relax a little bit when he sleeps scale is a very stiff guy

logan

another guy with a troubled sleeping schedule, BUT ITS NOT HIS FAULT

because he’s a firefighter he has regular normal people shifts and then he has those overnight shifts. after those overnight shifts he will take a shower immediately when he gets home and if you’re at his home he will drag your ass into bed with him

not that you mind ig??? poor guy looks tired after those overnight shifts so you kinda just let him as long as he lets you grab a book or something to read while he’s out

another snuggler for the books. he’s so warm, logan runs so warm so it’s great in the winter but not so much in the summer months

he has no problems with engaging in physical affection with you. he’ll hold your hands in those hot months when y’all sleep and wrap you up in his arms in the winter

another person who also sleeps in his boxers, since he’s super hot (temperature wise ya dingus) clothes when he sleeps are never an option

cashew

ok i think in one of his voice lines he says he stays up late reading books so uh yeah another boy with ABHORRENT SLEEP SCHEDULE

if y’all sleep together, he will always fall asleep later than you. cashew will stay up with a book in hand and lamp light on

if you have trouble sleeping at night he will read you whatever he’s reading at the moment and with his soothing voice it will put you right back to sleep

if you wake up from a nightmare and cashew for some reason is up (ugh go to sleep you bookworm), he is so good at comfort. he’ll reassure you (yk telling you “it’s okay I’m here”) and rub his hands on your back

he’s also another physically affectionate man. he feels so giddy when he gets to hold your hand while you sleep or when he gets to hold you close to him as he finally gets some shut eye

when he wakes up, he finds that you’re now the big spoon. you’re holding him with your hands in his hair and he thinks that he’s in heaven for real

he can feel his ears turning red at this point

aki

he would not own a bed frame lets be honest look at him and tell me that he owns a bed frame

he’s also physically affectionate with you in bed like snuggles and whatnot

aki LOVES being the big spoon. loves the feeling being the big guy (regardless of his height) and any chance he gets to protect you or portray any masculine traits

if he had to pick a bed frame he would pick that lightning mcqueen bed frame that kids pick because he thinks it looks cool

regardless of how hot or cold it is outside will cuddle with you. he cannot go one night without his hands on you (but he would respect your boundaries should you express being uncomfortable)

aki likes to be touchy in his sleep so sometimes when you wake up before him you find his hands up the front of your shirt or under your shirt on your waist

one time as a prank he tried to keep you awake as long as possible to push the human limits, but when he saw how miserable you were trying to go about your day he immediately feels bad. so he takes you back to your home and tucks you into bed with an apology for taking it too far

haru

he is a HUGE fan of physical affection, if you share a bed with him he will be handsy with you

probably owns a regular bed like im talking king sized bed with comforters and a bed frame with a headboard with silk pillowcases

haru also sleeps with a silk eye mask on probably helps him go mimimimi

another man who only sleeps in his boxers but instead of comfort it’s because he knows he’s hot and he wants to see if you act up

i think he only wants to be big spoon because that’s what all his past flings wanted but after you hold him in your arms one night his life is changed

usually haru will be big spoon but there are some occasions that he’ll want to be held by you and when you do pls run his fingers through his hair and play with it he likes it trust me

another man who loves the stick his hands up your shirt if given the opportunity to. he loves the feel of your skin on his

fuyu

now, he would sleep on a futon because yk, he’s an old kitsune man. i bet he believes that the newer younger kitsune who have mattress beds should return to using futons

i mean, think about it. you save on space since you can put the futon away without any issue, it’s better for your back, and some of them come with heaters (great for winter)

but then he stays over at your house one time. you unfortunately have a regular mattress, he won’t admit to you that he’s changed his mind but his actions unfortunately give him away

fuyu likes how soft your mattress is. how much your blankets smell like you, as if you lived in those sheets for eons. how warm you get in those sheets make fuyu fall asleep really early easily

he usually is big spoon because let’s be real, that man is 6’8 there’s a very small chance that you would be able to spoon him comfortably if you’re significantly smaller than him (which unfortunately i am)

same thing applies with his clothes, he will usually sleep in boxers only because pajama pants are not made for people his size

he will ask to be physically affectionate with you. he sleeps with plenty of space between y’all. he will only hold your hand in your sleep

fuyu likes to put his hands around your waist and hold you that way if you let him. he would put his face in the crook of your neck (his new favorite spot). the way his snuggles with you screams “old gentlemanly man”

[unreliable-narrator-chilaios]

chilaios week; day 6 prompt: "beach episode/alternative universe", using both prompts; 1,579 words

no i did not do the previous days. yet. but i WAS struck by inspiration for this one. i don't want to give too much away so i'm not saying what the AU is, but you'll figure it out lol

title: Chilchuck's Secret

cws: not any, I think? this one's very sweet. i wanted to use the good vibes of beach episode... i guess there's some suggestive lines, but it's not nsft at all.

      There’s a secret at the beach, if you know where and when to look.

      And nobody knows but Chilchuck, of course.

      He was always the sort of man to keep his cards close to his chest, and this was no exception. Anything that he treasured, he had to keep locked away - hoarding everything he held dear to keep it safe and sound, out of the way of harm… with maybe only a hint of jealousy inherent in that act. Greed, even.

      Not that he was the greedy one out of the two of them. That title belonged to Laios, through and through.

      The brittle shale that crumpled beneath his fingers was cool to the touch, compared to how it would feel later. It hadn’t yet been baked in the sun for hours today. The shale and limestone and sand were blissfully cool for now, letting him take his time on his way down the short cliffside to the cove. It was the time of year that it was cool in the morning and searingly hot in the afternoon, the time of year that he was always tempted to stay from dawn until dusk. Maybe even longer than that. It was a rush to get across the route when the sand scalded and blistered his feet, but when it was cool, it was almost soft. Pleasant.

      He needed the lack of urgency - the slowly building arthritis in his hands and knees made him especially stiff in the mornings. His tri-weekly trips here had been helping considerably, but the way down to get there was rough, even if the reward was well worth it. His body creaked traitorously, even as it allowed him his nimble movements down the short rock wall, the sudden lurch from his hop down onto flat stone.

      Tide pools flourished here. It was low tide, making the shallow dips and pools in the rock especially prominent, where hardy, stubborn plants drooped at the surface and critters scuttled within and between them. He was careful to sidestep a crab on his way to the sand proper, relaxing as his feet sank into the fine grains.

      He breathed in the scent of sea spray, salt and foam, the smell of things washed up by the tide and left stranded when the waters receded. A chunk of driftwood would soon be picked up again at noon, when the high tide came back; clumps of washed-up kelp and algae littered the beach, at the line where he knew the tide would come up to later.

      The sun was still low in the sky, just barely peeking through the trees that sheltered the cove. The passage to the ocean was narrow, and the forest was thick in this area. Most of the cove wasn’t just blocked off by trees, but cliffs. His route down the side of one was the safest; the beach here was free of litter, free of the sound of crinkling plastic and the smell of waste, the bright eyesores of humanity that left their mark on nature’s majesty.

      Chilchuck relaxed as his eyes gravitated towards an outcropping of rock in the center of the water. He wasn’t here yet, but that was fine. The half foot was early to their meeting.

      He made himself comfortable. The sand yielded to him where he stepped, slipping between his toes and under his heel as he walked across the sandy portions of the beach, coming up to a rock that he’d begun to favor in the past month. Pebbles and sharp stones littered the sand here, but he didn’t mind, avoiding them the best he could before he quickly scaled the side of the beach rock.

      It was the outermost boulder of a wider outcropping that extended from the cliffs, forming a small, flat perch on top that let him have an excellent view of the cove. The chill in the rock was soothing as he sat down, careful not to let his swimming trunks get caught on the sharp little crags.

      Other than his swimming trunks, he wasn’t wearing much. Just a plain white swim shirt. The trunks themselves were solid black. He would have opted for clothing that looked a little better, but he had to replace them often - he kept stashes of extra pairs in an alcove nearby, in case of them being ripped or shredded while he was here.

      It happened much more often than he’d like. The thought alone made him huff, amused, as his whiskers twitched and his tail curled around his side. His ears flicked when he felt the breeze stir the inner ear fur. He usually hid his more… animalistic features when he could, but he knew Laios would just rip his clothes off even faster, just for a chance to feel his tail. Grabby bastard.

      Speaking of. Speak of the devil, and he shall come.

      There’s a large, dark shadow in the water. The water here is practically crystal clear, but it’s massive and far away - the cove is huge, after all, stretching across half a mile from one side to the other. He can see the little flurries of shoals of fish scattering in its wake, schools dispersing and reforming as they flittered between open water and the abundance of plants in the makeshift, tiny reef that had formed here. Small stretches of coral were in the deeper parts of the water, here, and seagrass and algae offering food and shelter a little further out, teetering off into just rocks closer to the beach. Algae particularly liked the base of the sea stack in the middle, the base of the colossal rock wrapped in slimy dark green.

      With a burst of ripples and sea spray, the figure breaks the surface of the water, hauling itself up the rock with relative ease, even as gravity drags it down. He isn’t meant for the surface, after all, and without the buoyancy of the water, he’s heavy - because, after all, he’s an utterly massive cecaelia. Pale skin transitioned to yellow-gold at the waist, the muscular fatty upper human half matched with a fat, bulky form of an octopus, rippling with muscle underneath slick, oddly-textured skin and suction cups. He easily hauled himself onto his own perch, running a hand through his blonde hair and practically deflating under his own weight for a moment.

      Those golden eyes light up like always when their gazes meet. Swaths of his skin light up in a blushing pink, giving away how happy he is. Laios was always, and would always be, an open book. He loves that about him.

      Chilchuck carefully made his way back down the rock, feet planted into the sand and pebbles and sea glass. He waded into the shallows, where the water was relatively warm. It wasn’t long until he was swimming, doing a bit of a pathetic doggy paddle to the base of the sea stack - and then one of those muscular arms gently wound its way around his torso, lifting him up out of the water and onto the little plateau. The routine was wound into them at this point, wordlessly slumping into one another as soon as he was able to reach his human half. Those big, strong arms wrapped around him, one hand coming down to pet along the drenched fur of his tail.

      He didn’t shake himself out like he wanted to. That was a bit too dog-like, for his tastes. Laios always laughed at him when he did it, with that soft, genuinely happy laugh.

      “Dork,” he mumbled, non-contextually. It earned a chuckle, vibrating through that broad chest.

      He’s pulled into a kiss, small and chaste, but sweet nonetheless. He curls his tail around the cecaelia’s hand, relaxing into his hold like always after he pulled away. That chest was the perfect pillow, letting him listen to his breathing, the beating of his heart. He knew it would sound different if he listened to it while the man was underwater, when he used his gills instead of his lungs. He found his body idly fascinating, but not as fascinating as Laios found his to be.

      The hand not occupied with his tail pressed softly against the back of his neck, thumbing across the muscles between his neck and shoulder. “You missed me,” he teased, curling one of those arms around his leg to hold him securely. He always wanted to completely surround him, hold him with everything he had. “That was… what, two days?”

      “Shut up,” he scolded, playfully. He smacked his bicep lightly, swatting at him like a fly. It just made the man laugh. His ears burned and he knew they were scarlet on the inside. He couldn’t help that Laios was the best thing going on in his life right now. His secret treasure. “I didn’t miss you, you were just annoying immediately. I mean, come on. You’re bright pink. I thought that the color change was for camouflage! Eedjit.”

      He laughed that sweet laugh again.

      “M’eudail.” He said it with the tone of an insult, a curse, even if it very much wasn’t, as he swatted him again. “Ye fuckin’ sook.”

      “You definitely missed me.” Laios was grinning, more of that oddly-textured skin flushing pink and red. “I can change the subject, though. Do you want to hear about a weird fish I caught the other day?”

      Chilchuck huffed, whiskers twitching. “Sure.”

      He could listen to him talk about just about anything for hours.

[2minutesnotice]

✨Stolitz Twins Thoughts ✨

Welcome to the post about my Stolitz Fan Kids 😌💖

Please be aware that I ignore and block every comment that says something hurtful to me or the idea of Stolitz having kids. I don't care. I want hat bird pregnant lol (also at some point maybe the lizard but let's see).

Have Fun!

✨ Via is in her early 20ies when her father tells her about the eggs. She's happy for him but also understands the consequences.

✨ At the point conceiving, Stolas is already divorced from Stella, but does not wish to be married soon again. Blitzø is totally fine with that but the kids take that topic on the table again.

✨ Obviously at some point, the Ars Goetia find out and want the abomination destroyed, as soon as they laid. Since they're sired by an imp, the hybrid kids would have no official status.

✨ Paimon accepts an offer for an meeting with Stolas AND Blitzø, they had discussed over weeks what would be the best. Vassago, a friend of Stolas and lawyer of the Ars Goetia, helped them to figure out a contract.

✨ The kids would given no title, they wouldn't be a princess or prince. If they inherit Stolas magic, it has to be reported immediately and it has to be tested how dangerous they could be.

They would not have Stolas title of an Goeatin, their last name would be Buckzo. They would not be able to marry into the Goeatin family, since hybrids like this are not reported anywhere (it's a lie but they find that out way too late) and it's not sure what the outcome of an pregnancy would be.

The meeting lasted 5 whole days, in which Stolas loses his nerves multiple times and at some point Blitzø called them very creative names and lost his temper, a lot.

✨ Via offers a deal later, since she has to sit at the council too (as the now official princess and heir). She lets Stolas and Blitzø stay in the palace, she has no use for it anyway. She's still not ready to take place in her father's duties, so she gets teached by him still (so he won't get ripped of his magic). She will be the eyes and ears for the council about the kids, so Blitzø and Stolas can't hide anything from them and will report anything weird.

✨ They take that offer and not does the council know that Via mentally showed them the middle finger lol and will do shit. She just wants her dad to be happy. The only thing changing is Via moving in, but she keeps her distance in another side of the palace. (She takes breakfast with them and sometimes lunch and cares for Stolas as he started to get heavy pregnancy symptoms).

✨ The only thing that was still necessary, because if something would happen to Stolas, things would get complicated (it's fine print in the contract, they find that out later). If the kids would inherit magic, they still would be useful for the Goetia and they COULD take the kids away from Blitzø. Since his status is working class, he would've no saying what happens to his children. Unless-

They would get married. The council could still demand that the children get taken, but Blitzø would have the right to say no.

✨ That sets up new drama. Stolas just coming out of a marriage, not ready to commit a new one and Blitzø trying very hard to not to react to his flight or fright mechanisms.

✨Again, they go with Vassago through the laws and another contract gets set up. Stolas and Blitzø WOULD get married when the kids show any sign of magic. The slightest hint of them being able to perform something and they would tie the knot. So long, Stolas would accept Blitzø as his lifemate. An very old Goetian tradition, which could be translated to fiance. It would Blitzø give at least the right to fight for his kids.

✨ Everything gets signed, middle fingers are held up, Stolas being so upset he pukes into the car, Blitzø so done with everything that he is very close to just grab Stolas and just get out of Hell with him.

Buuuuut they calm down after some time and finally can enjoy to be parents soon.

✨ Blitzø moves into the palace, after Loona tells him that she has talked with her therapist (yeah, we're doing therapy now) and she tries to be ready to live alone for some time. Blitzø is unsure first but after a talk with Millie, who tells him that it has to happen at some point ("Ya can't jump around houses B, what if somethin' is happenin' to his Highness? And you're not there?") he aggrees to Loona and moves out, leaving her the apartment (and still paying for it, and visiting it often).

✨AAAAND finally things settle down. Blitzø sits Stolas down to talk about the employees in the palace. He feels uncomfortable with his coffee being made by Pringles, he is perfectly fine to do that himself. So they gather all the imps and Hellhounds and go through their contracts. A few leave, still traumatized by Stella and her treatment, some stay and get higher payment, they're not longer nameless. Stolas learns their names, their schedules, he tries to do a lot of things himself (especially in the garden. He sometimes calls for an professional to help with rouge carnivore plants or when it's weeding time and the size of the garden is intimidating) and promises Blitzø that there won't be an imp nanny for the kids.

✨ The eggnancy is horrible at some point. They find out soon that there are two eggs and Stolas physique is definitely not made to carry two large eggs. He is bed ridden, has a few good days he spends in a spa, the garden or a couple of days at the beach, but the later months are testing him in every way.

✨ The laying is painful and bloody. And way too long. Blitzø was sure he would lose his lover at some point, his hands bathed in blood and the eggs soft and maybe a bit too early. Stolas is crying through the whole process, in shock later and passes out after the second egg being laid. Via gladly helps Blitzø with the first care of the eggs (she has prepared herself month in advance for this), while Blitzø cleans up everything, with Millie(who takes care of Stolas, puts him to bed and cares for his fever) and Moxxie who he had called in panic.

✨ Stolas heals slowly, feverish and depression taking him under. He holds the eggs close, let's no one near them and hides under the blankets for days. Only leaving them in Blitzøs care when he has to leave to the bathroom or Via forces something some food into him.

✨ There are some mishaps. Blitzø drops one egg, while trying to balance both eggs back into the incubator. Via overheating the incubator (there was a very very whispered scrambled eggs joke from Blitzø), someone forgot to turn them. But finally hatching day comes and with that a little surprise.

✨ The identical twins, even though in two separate eggs, hatch under a Blood Moon. Stolas is sure they inherit magic then, Blitzø just thinks it's absolutely awesome and badass.

✨Since Stolas has a knack for human mythology, they chose the name Bia and Eris. Blitzø is just glad it's something short and he is able to write the names correctly.

✨ The hatchlings look ridiculous. They're bright red, have Blitzøs big yellow/red eyes and markings, Stolas secondary set of eyes, which are open the second they hatch. Later they get violet spots and little violet feathers start to sprout. They have Blitzøs hooves, horns , tiny back spikes and a feathered imp tail.

For both parents they look beautiful, for everyone else it's a wild ride lol

✨ Since both kids have a cloaca (♈"Oh, birdpuss" 🦉"Darling, please don't say that in front of your children 🥲"), the only sign what gender they have are their horns. Eris has the typical horn coloring for a female, since Bia first seemed male, but the horn coloring was off. Blitzø had seen this before, sends a photo to Fizz and he recommends a doctors visit.

✨ Bia is diagnosed as intersex, her prime sex seems to be female but there were definitely signs of male anatomy inside her cloaca. Both parents are fine with it, they just made sure to try to see the signs when Bia might be uncomfortable with her given pronouns. (Fizz told them that he knew from VERY young age that he was a boy).

✨ Via reports to the council about the babies, leaves out the fact they definitely inherit magic and tries to hide it as much as possible.

✨The twins are-

Loud. Blitzø did not know how hatchlings sound and the first night they start to screech he pulls a gun from under his pillow. They're definitely not calm kids, they screech a lot, cry a lot and crave physical touch. They're only sleeping on Stolas or Blitzø (yes, ON), only react when Stolas sings or Blitzø purrs.

✨The parents are worn thin very early. Stolas falling asleep in Vias lesson, Blitzø nearly shooting Moxxie on a mission because he fell asleep on the sniper rifle. It's a mess. M&M try to offer comfort but Blitzø just says everything is fine.

✨ It's not. He and Stolas fight, a lot. Since Stolas is the one having the children around 24/7 he feels overwhelmed. It's easy when they're both around, Blitzø taking care of one twin while Stolas could take his time with the other. But when Blitzø was at work, he had to care for both.

✨ The twins have an Eldritch form and maybe Stolas is a bit proud about it, while Blitzø nearly shit his boxers when they turned all formless horror the first time. (It was a very horrible crying fit of the twins.)

✨After Blitzø being not able to work, at least not without putting someone in danger, M&M offer themselves as babysitters. Millie had several siblings, Moxxie is a very gentle caring person, they would at least try.

✨ They start with a single night, Stolas being horribly anxious the whole time, making sure to check phone numbers again, handed over a second copy of the twins schedule, offering a portal when something went wrong. Millie made sure to calm him down and enjoy his night off from the kids.

✨And he and Blitzø did. There was some pressure for the night, they hadn't had sex since the twins hatched and even before it was mostly Blitzø eating him out or a floppy handjob in the bathtub. They ended up in bed, and talked. Not one single attend was made to do more then holding each other, a few kisses were shared, nothing else. Both agreed that they were way too tired and worn out, not in the mental state to enjoy anything sexual.

✨ Moxxie and Millie are pros in babysitting the twins. The kids love his singing, Millie loves the body contact the twins crave. They sleep with the twins in the middle of their bed, all cuddled into a big nest it of pillows and blankets on their bed.

Moxxie records some silly children's songs, makes a playlist and sends it to Blitzø.

✨ And the kids LOVE it, the raspy high voice of the imp, now a night time ritual to let the playlist go. And the parents able to sleep at least for a few hours the night.

✨The kids grow up fast and Stolas finally finds out the magic they can do. Since his duty lies in prophecies, reading from the stars, his children work as a kind of seer/oracle. As toddlers, barely able to speak, the know who visits next, who rings the doorbell, what the name of the food was they would get offered the next day. It started with small things until they're children and are able to read names from letters Stolas gets, and tell him a possible future for the client.

✨ Maybe Blitzø freaks a bit out.

✨ The twins grow and develop teeth. It's a bit weird at first for Stolas, who find out he hurtful way, offering one of the twins his finger to suck at to calm down (they don't have fully developed hands/talons yet) and gets bitten, hard. Opening up their beak during a yawn, the parents spot several small teeth growing out.

✨ At this point they start to chew on everything, drooling all the time, chewing on fingers, chair legs, horns, Loonas ear (ouch). They demand whole foods, chewing on a bread stick for hours.

✨ When the kids start their education (I'll make a another post about that adventure), they find out that Bia has dyslexia. Blitzø being pretty sure it is because he dropped her egg, gets comfort from Stolas, explaining to him that it definitely has nothing to do with that. Goetian eggs, after developing a shell, are pretty sturdy. A simple drop would not do such a thing, as giving a child a learning deficit.

Since he had started his own journey of re-learning words and letters (Stolas helps him, it's couple time and he gets to read his pretty bird stories, win win), he made sure to be extra patient with his kid.

Bia enjoys the extra attention, while Eris is happy with helping her twin with reading stories. They demand bed time stories only read by Blitzø, because he does the silly voices. When he stumbles over words or needs some time, the twins encourage him to go on (B♊: It's okay Papa, the words are sometimes hard for me too).

✨ Blitzø is Papa, Stolas is Daddy 💖

And that's it so far, there IS more but I don't think anyone will even read this here. It's just my silly little world with two cute kids for some people who deserve happiness ❤️

Thanks for reading, Gold Star for you✨✨

[selfcarecap]

Transparent Soul [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x ghost!reader

Summary: You’ve been a ghost for nearly a year now, but your new friend Peter makes you feel more human than ever before. You fall in love with him hard and fast and you know he has the power to turn you back into a human, but you only have one chance. Is he really the right person?

Warnings: semi-suicidal thought for like ten seconds, a few mentions of depression, post nwh, mentions of death and dead parents and a car crash, but i promise it’s not a sad fic 💀, smut (no ghost smut </3, oral, f masturbation, finger sucking, protected vaginal sex), little bit of angst, this fic’s timeline vs mcu timeline is a bit wonky but we’ll ignore that <3 (—> peter is college age)

Word Count: um. 13k

Happy Halloween!! Finally managed to write a Halloween fic lol, I hope you enjoy ghost!reader <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

One of the things you hate most about being a ghost is not being able to touch anything. Your hand floats right through whatever you try to touch. 

You’d give everything to finally pet the cat that you always hang out with on the fire escape of an apartment building in New York. She’s a black cat with piercing yellow eyes and despite being a stray, her fur looks as soft as anything and you keep each other company around this block of houses, though you prefer the one you’re currently on.

You could call this house your home, but you don‘t live in it. You‘re a ghost,. You have no need for an apartment. You just observe the people who live here, without ever interacting with them.

From experience you know that people don‘t react nicely to a ghost, unlike your cat friend. You’ve decided to call her Lucky, simply because you feel Lucky to have her. She’s the only friend you’ve made since becoming a ghost.

Lucky doesn‘t seem to care that you‘re a ghost, or maybe she doesn‘t even know. She always hangs out with you on this fire escape and stays with you for hours. Sometimes the brown-haired boy in apartment 7A leaves his leftovers out for her. You‘re glad someone‘s taking care of her - not that you‘ve ever seen him pet her. But he leaves food for her anyway. 

Lucky has decided to leave you for the night - probably anoyed that you won’t pet her no matter how many times she tries to rub her head against your leg, only to be confused because she can’t actually touch you.

You’re visible, but just barely. A faint picture of the human you used to be, anyone could see you, but they would immediately realise that you’re not human, with your transluscent skin and hair and clothes. 

You can choose to make yourself fullly invisible though, and it’s how you spend most of your days. Otherwise you’d only be met with fear and malice.

You make yourself invisible as soon as you see the boy from 7A swinging through the streets. Oh, have you forgot to mention? He’s Spider-Man.

You watch him as he makes sure no one sees him climbing into the window of his apartment. He closes the window behind himself and you look away when he changes into his pyjamas.

He’s barely home, always out late being Spider-Man and leaving early in the morning, you assume for work or college - you’ve seen him studying at his desk. He never has friends over and you wonder if he’s as lonely as you are or if he just meets people somewhere else.

You’ve been wanting to talk to him for a while. You’re hesitant because ever since you’ve been a ghost no human has ever reacted positively to you, but Spider-Man could be different.

He’s Spider-Man. An Avenger. If he’s fought a purple alien with a magic glove, then maybe he won’t be too creeped out by a ghost.

You don‘t want to put all of your trust and hope into him but he‘ll be the first person you talk to in months, so it is a big deal no matter how much you try to convince yourself of the opposite.

You‘ve tried to talk to people before, only to leave them traumatised or calling an exorcist and you had to find a new home again. You like this house. It‘s not in the nicest area but the people who live here are fun to observe and you‘d like to stay here, so you can only hope Spider-Man won‘t make you leave. 

The thought of talking to him makes you so nervous though, so you’ll give yourself some time before you do it.

The next day, you’re sitting by the fire escape where you always sit.

It’s dark already and not a lot of people are out during this Thursday winter night, so you’re just sitting (well, floating) with your legs dangling off the railing. You’re not bothering to make yourself invisible - no one would see you here anyway.

You’re looking out for Lucky to come and join you, but she’s not here tonight, so you’re just listening to New York’s noises.

And then everything happens so quickly.

You turn your head and you see Spider-Man. You weren’t expecting him to come home yet and you’re too surprised to remember to make yourself invisible. Before you know it, he lands right next to you and you hear a loud and shocked “Oh” from him.

You make yourself invisible but it’s too late, he’s already seen you, so you become visible again. This is your chance to make a friend.

You don’t have a heart, but if you did it would be hammering against your ribcage at full speed. You don’t know what to say but the good news is he’s still here. He hasn’t told you to leave yet. 

He just looks a little scared, with his forearms pulled tight to his chest. You can’t read his expression because he still has his mask on.

“Hi,” is all that comes out of your mouth. You haven’t really used your voice much but it sounds surprisingly normal.

He doesn’t reply. “Are you.. are you Spider-Man?” You ask, even though it’s obvious. But you don’t know what else to say. It’s hard to start a conversation when you don’t know if the other person is about to call an exorcist.

He replies with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I am. And, uh, and you are?”

You tell him your name and he nodds politely, still unsure.

“Yeah. I’m a ghost,” you smile slightly.

He relaxes a little, “Oh, I thought so. I wanted to ask but I didn’t know if it was like, uh offensive.”

You laugh and it feels so unfamiliar, “Well, I’m not offended.”

He smiles at you and you smile back, but you don’t know what to say. You’ve forgotten how to talk to people. You wait for him to say something and your (metaphorical) heart sinks with every second that he remains silent and fidgets with his hands instead. It would help if you could at least see his face.

You decide to just be honest. This conversation isn’t going anywhere else.

“I uh, I‘ve been in this house for a while and usually people um. They don‘t react nicely when they see me, so I mostly keep to myself. But then I saw you and I remembered seeing you on the news with the Avengers so if.. if you‘ve been with them then I assumed a ghost wouldn’t be the craziest thing you‘ve ever seen so uh..”

He hasn’t taken off his mask but you think you can see him smiling. It seems as if your explanation is enough for him to deem you harmless, as if he realised that you’re right, he has seen scarier things. What’s a ghost going to do to him?

“It‘s cold out here, do you wanna come in?” His words surprise you and you don’t remember the last time you smiled as widely as you do when he opens the window to his one-room apartment.

“I don’t have any feeling in my body so I can’t feel the cold but, uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll come in.”

Maybe he just doesn’t value his life very much and that’s why he’s letting you, a stranger who is also a ghost, in his room. But maybe he just sees you. Maybe he sees that you just don’t want to be alone, and that you’re harmless.

You try not to overthink it too much. Maybe he’s just letting you in his room to try and kill you, but you feel good about him. So good that you almost forget you’re not a normal human with feelings who lives a normal human life.

He lets you in first but you float through the wall instead of ducking down to get through the window like he does behind you.

“Woah,” Spider-Man says, grinning. He looks you up and down, as if he’s just now noticing that you’re floating a few inches above the floor. You sit down to hover over his bed as he closes his window.

“So, are the movies about ghosts quite accurate then?” He turns around to ask you, and casually pulls his mask off - probably out of habit from when he comes home. He freezes for a second and then presses the mask over his face. He quickly turns away from you to slip it over his head again, mumbling something under his breath.

“I uh.. I’ve seen your face before but… it’s your choice of course.”

“Oh,” he says.

“I have no interest in exposing your identity,” you say, “It’s not like anyone would believe a ghost anyway,” you add sadly, looking down when you remember that this is not a normal, human, interaction.

“I don’t have much to do so I just like to people watch and uh, I’ve seen you in here with your mask off, so…” You explain, hoping he’ll trust you. Honesty is all you have.

When you look up, Spider-Man has pulled his mask off and smiles softly at you. You know he has no reason to trust you, doesn’t even owe it to you to talk to you. But he does it anyway, and he stretches his hand out, “I’m Peter, by the way.”

It’s nice to finally have a name for the boy from 7A. You reach for his hand out of instinct before you remember that you can’t take it. “Oh, uh, I can’t,” you say as you pull your hand back. 

He stares at you for a second before he seems to understand and pulls his arm back too, “Oh, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I forget it too sometimes.”

Peter looks at you curiously, curiously and nothing else, and you realise then that you forgot how it feels to have someone look at you without fear or hate. But you can tell he’s still getting used to talking to a ghost, so you try to start the conversation.

“The movies are quite accurate.”

“Huh?”

“You asked if the ghost movies are accurate. I think the most obvious things are true. You’re a floating nothing that can go through walls,” you chuckle, trying not to think of how shitty it feels to live your life that way.

He smiles and sits down on the bed with you, “Have you always been a ghost?”

The question makes your nonexistant heart ache and Peter must see it on your face, quickly adding, “You don’t have to talk about it, of course.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You take a deep breath and think for a moment. Then, you tell him your story.

You tell him how you were in a car crash with your family right when Thanos made half of the world’s population disappear. You turned into dust just as you were about to die. 

When you came back five years later, your family was dead. You always assumed you were just on the brink of death when Thanos snapped his fingers, and the universe couldn’t decide whether to let you live or not, so now you’re somewhere in between. But sometimes, you’d rather be dead. 

Peter has tears in his eyes by the time you’re done speaking. You can tell that he’s speechless, and you’re not expecting him to say anything. 

“Wow… I’m so sorry,” is all he says. 

“I try to see the positive side of things. At least I got another chance at life, not many people do. It’s not really like this life has been worth living but.. maybe I just haven’t figured out how to be a good ghost yet.”

You decide not to tell him how depressed you’ve really been. You haven’t ever talked about what happened, and this was hard enough to talk about. Although it does feel better, finally getting your story off your chest. You remember that you’re telling all your secrets to a stranger, but you already know his biggest secret too, so it’s fair.

“I know I’m not a ghost, so I’m not saying I understand but… I think I kind of understand.”

He tells you about his dead parents, then his dead aunt. He tells you about parallel universes and losing all of his friends. He tells you how everyone had to forget him. 

He keeps saying that he knows how crazy it sounds, but it really happened. You assure him that you don’t doubt a single thing he says. Who are you to decide what really happened and what didn’t, when you’re a literal ghost. 

He doesn’t tell you how depressed and lonely he is either, but it’s obvious. You assume it’s also obvious to him how sad you are. Maybe you don’t need to say it - you understand each other wordlessly. 

He’s careful to not sound like he’s implying that he fully understands you. He’s not a ghost, so of course he can’t. But at the core, you’re the same. You’re alone and you’re lonely. 

Yes, he has the chance to make new friends and you don’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re both lonely, both suffering. 

He’s choked up by the time he’s done talking and you don’t know he’s managed to not break down sobbing yet. 

You’re both quiet for a while after he’s finished talking. You can’t say anything to make it better, so you don’t try. You’re here, and that’s more than he’s had in a while. 

“Wow, you could have stopped me there,” Peter smiles awkwardly, “Look at me oversharing. Sorry.”

“You and me both,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “And it’s okay to cry, by the way. I wish I could.”

“You can’t cry?” He asks, his eyes red and wet, but he’s not crying yet. 

“I can’t. I feel things inside, I have feelings and emotions like everyone else. But there’s nothing physical. I don’t eat or sleep or cry. If you touch me I won’t feel it. You won’t either. It’s all just on the inside, and I have the urge to cry sometimes, but I just literally can’t. I’d give everything to cry again. So, please, cry. I can leave if you need time.”

“No no, no,” he wipes his tears away and smiles bashfully at being so eager. He has no idea that you’re even more eager to be spending time together. 

You get the feeling he needs the company as much as you do. He just told you how he lost everything. Your situations are so similar it‘s nearly scary. So if you need him, you know he needs you too. 

He asks more questions about you being a ghost - more light-hearted ones, and you happily answer them all. The soul-crushing loneliness aside, there are a few cool things about being a ghost.

You can go anywhere you want, without being seen. You don’t have to be scared of men when you’re out late at night, if anything, men would be scared of you. You may or may not have scared some creepy men on purpose before.

There’s one question Peter hasn’t asked yet, but you know he wants to. Instead of making him ask, you just ask him if he wants to touch you. He grins at your offer and you hold out your arm for him to touch it.

His hand goes right through you when he tries to touch you, and he’s as giddy as a child being told they can have some candy. You can tell that he thinks it’s cool.

You like that you’re making Peter smile and laugh and even talking to someone is making you happier than you’ve been in months. But deep down it also makes you sad. You can’t even touch Peter’s hand, let alone hug him, or hold him.

You try to ignore those thoughts though. Being with Peter is still better than all the months you’ve spent alone since you became a ghost.

You know it will make him laugh, so you reach right through his chest, your arm going right through him. And even though there’s still a general sadness within you, Peter is making you so happy right now. 

Even though you’re talking about being a ghost, and showing him how not-human you are, even though you’re a floating thing of light that doesn’t feel like it’s there, he makes you feel the most human emotion there is. It’s not love, you’ve only known him a few hours. But you just like him. Maybe you’re just emotionally starved, and you’d like anyone who would give you the time of day, but you can’t feel the difference.

You enjoy spending time with him. You get along well. And it’s making you feel like you could stay with him and talk with him forever. He’s making you feel like you actually have a heart. And your heart is telling you that Peter is a good soul, someone to keep in your life, who deserves all the happiness in the world.

He’s making you feel like a normal person, with normal human emotions. He’s making you forget about all the loss and the loneliness. And it’s all you’ve been asking for since you turned into a ghost.

Being with Peter is wonderful.

You talk through the whole night and it doesn’t even cross your mind that you won’t be able to talk to him forever. He doesn’t realise this either until the sun rises and the streets are bright again.

“Oh my god, it’s so late, well, early,” he looks at his phone, “Shit, I have to go to class like. Right now.”

You watch him pick up a few things and he stuffs them into his bag, sticking his toothbrush in his mouth while he gets ready.

“I uh, I’ll go then,” you call out to him while he’s getting ready. He’s stressed and you don’t want to add to it.

“Wait,” he stops you, “I need to see you again. Uh, I mean, do you want to hang out again later?”

You grin, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins too, unable to look at you, “Okay, where will you be?”

“I’ll be at the fire escape when you come home. Same time as yesterday?”

“Yes. But you can also stay in here, just if you want to.”

“I might. Thanks. Now go and get ready and don’t worry about me.”

He’s gone two minutes later and you’re already looking forward to when he comes back. You go on a walk, the longest route you can think of, to distract yourself.

Peter comes home earlier than he said and seems surprised that you’re there.

“Hi,” you say, getting up from his bed and floating over to him. It’s not like you could hug him hello, but you still want to be close, “How was your day?”

“Hi, it was good, yeah. I’ll tell you later but I uh. Just… just so you know, I didn’t fully express how much I enjoyed last night. If I’m honest, while I was at work I thought maybe I just hallucinated you. Because you’re too good to be true because we just get on so well and also because I’ve never met a ghost before so I didn’t know if you were real,” you both laugh, “But now you’re here again and I‘m just so happy that we met. And that we got along so well and just.. yeah. I really need a friend.”

You don’t know what to say yet, so you just grin. You feel the same, even after one day. Sometimes time doesn’t mean a thing and you just recognise a good soul. Both of you did.

“I just really wish I could hug you right now,” you say, your voice sounds like you’re about to cry but you know it won’t happen.

“We can try,” Peter suggests quietly.

“Okay.”

You both take a step forward and put your arms around each other, but you don’t feel anything. It’s awkward for both of you and you leaned in to much so you’re half standing in Peter.

You decide not to do that again, but your heart breaks; you can’t even pretend to hug someone.

He tells you about his classes and work. He’s college age but after everything that happened to him and with everyone forgetting him, has to redo his general education test. You know he’s smart and doesn’t have to go to classes, but he says he wanted to make some friends there. He hasn’t so far because he’s still too sad and mostly keeps to himself, but he’ll get there eventually.

Even if he hasn’t made friends in class, he’s made a friend at his home. You will never be far.

Even though you don’t mean to, you start talking again for what feels like hours. Before it really becomes hours though, you tell him to go to sleep. He keeps interrupting himself with a yawn and the circles under his eyes are getting darker by the minute.

“I can’t sleep now. I wanna talk to you,” he says and your figurative heart swells.

“I’m not going anywhere. We can still talk tomorrow,” you smile. You reach out to caress his face but pull your hand back when you remember you can’t. You will never get used to it.

He smiles tiredly, “Okay. Will you stay here?” 

Before you can answer he adds, “It-it’s obviously okay if not.”

“I’ll stay.”

He sleeps on the left side of his twin bed even though you don’t need any room. You pretend to cuddle him while he sleeps but you’re always floating a few inches too far away from him or end up floating into him.

Becoming Peter’s friend has made you the happiest you’ve been since you became a ghost, but you’ve never been sadder to not be human. To not be able to touch him, to hold his hand, to hug him.

You go outside to float in front of his window, only to find Lucky meowing on the fire escape and you’re once again reminded that you can’t pet her and can’t show her love how you want to. You wonder why she stays with you. You can’t give her food, water or shelter, and not even cuddles.

You go back inside when you hear Peter mumbling something in his sleep. He’s told you about his nightmares and you’ll wake him up if he seems upset. But you think it’s just a normal dream, so you let him sleep.

Peter takes you to the movie theatre the next day while you make yourself invisible. You’ve always thought about doing stuff like this since you’ve had the ability to get into any place unnoticed, but you knew you’d see happy families and friends and couples and would have felt like an outsider. 

Now you’re not alone anymore.

“Did you have a bad dream last night? You were talking and moving a bit in your sleep.” You ask him while you walk home through dark empty alleys. You don’t have to make yourself invisible here and people won’t think he’s crazy talking to himself.

“Oh, I…” his cheeks turn red, “No, no. But I wanted to ask you something. Since you told me you just go watch people in our building sometimes. So do you, uh, do you see people having sex a lot?” He laughs shyly.

“I see more people masturbating. I never intentionally watch, but you’d be surprised just how many people do it before going to bed,” you throw him a pointed look and suddenly he seems to find the floor really interesting, “I’d never watch you on purpose, but you do it so much,” you laugh.

“Jeez, okay,” he puts his hands up in defense and looks away from you completely with an embarrassed grin.

You laugh and bump your shoulder against his, forgetting you can’t and walking through him for a second. You’re grateful he’s still not looking.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I wish I could do it. I mean, I can’t even touch myself.”

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, and his blush slowly disappears.

You can’t feel the temperature but just looking at Peter makes you cold. He could go as Rudolph for Halloween with a nose as red as that. All the trees have turned different shades of orange, red and yellow and you ask Peter to take you somewhere livelier where you can look at the change of the season in real time.

You’re invisible again when you get into the lit up streets with more people, but it’s like Peter can always tell where you are. You two don’t say much, but he smiles at you every now and then, and he’s looking right at you even though you know he can’t see you. But he can feel you. 

It makes you want to cry.

You stay out well into the night even though it’s too dark to appreciate the colour on the trees. But that doesn’t matter to you. You haven’t spent time more than a block away from Peter’s building in months. Now that you have someone else to go with, it’s all different.

You can’t help but think how much more beautiful it would all be if you were a human with an actual life. If you could have more friends. If you could go out and be seen and not have to worry about people freaking out or about being hunted down if someone sees you.

But for the moment you’re also happy that you have Peter. You always will be. Maybe it was meant to be. You both lost your life, in one way or another, and found each other.

You become best friends over the next few weeks. You knew it was going to happen from the first time you talked for hours, but having a friend is even nicer than you remembered. It feels like your life is worth living again.

You’re actually doing things these days. You have things to look forward to. You have someone to talk to, someone who sees you, someone who accepts you even though, from the outside, you’re just a bit of not-quite-invisible air.

Peter sees your soul, he sees you as a person, but nevertheless he loves you just how you are, no matter how much you hate the state you have to be in forever.

He told you he loves you so early it could be considered rushed, but you couldn’t deny that you feel it too. Maybe it’s all going faster because you’re both starved for love, and for human connection. And maybe that’s okay. You’ve found a true friendship with him, and it has saved both your lives.

You’re not living how you’d wish to, but now that you have Peter, at least you can consider your existence a life. You forgot how much joy other people can bring you, and you’re lucky that Peter turned out to be one of the good ones.

Even though your life has gotten more exciting, and you’re doing more, you probably still prefer being in Peter’s one-room-apartment, just being yourself and talking for hours. You’ve known each other for months now and it feels like you could talk for all the years to come.

When it’s just the two of you, you can just be you. You don’t have to make yourself invisible, and you can’t imagine how weird it must be for Peter to be best friends with a ghost, so you appreciate him even more. Deep down you’re as human as anyone else, but you look far from it.

There are times when Peter forgets. When you’re thinking of getting food, he asks what you want, then he quickly apologises when he realises that you can’t eat, but you’re never mad at him. You still forget it yourself. You forget it even more now.

But while you love your long talks with Peter, about the most profound things, and more often the most meaningless things, what’s special about him is that you don’t have to talk. You can just be. 

It’s not awkward when you’re both silent; it feels like the purest form of human connection. You just love him and he loves you. And he’s the best and most important friend you’ve ever had.

It’s not an ideal life, but for a ghost, it’s not too bad.

Peter is hesitant when he asks you to come to his job with him. You think it’s because he doesn’t want you to see what you’re missing out on - talking to people without them freaking out, having a normal life.

But you doubt you’ll be jealous of Peter having to work, plus you’ve always wondered what his workplace looks like. He started off working at a food place, but now he’s got a part-time office job that is less exhausting and pays better.

He says he doesn’t really have friends at his job, only a few colleagues that he’s friendly with, so you don’t think it will make you depressed again to see how he can talk to people when you can’t. You have Peter - a true friend - so why would you be jealous of some shallow and forced office friendships.

You’re just grateful you don’t have to sit around all day until Peter comes home. He’s taken you to class with him once, but you realised just how glad you are to be done with anything related to school and went home early.

He takes you to his work on a Friday, which he says is always the best day. Everyone’s happier because the weekend is close and Peter’s day ends a few hours earlier so he can take you to a street market around the corner after work. You won’t be able to buy anything, but you like looking. 

When you’re with Peter, you always enjoy yourself.

The office isn’t far from Peter’s place, so you walk there. You make yourself invisible the first time you see another person and prepare to stay like that all day. 

You’re excited to see where Peter spends hours nearly every day, but it’s nothing you didn’t expect. It’s simply an office. But he seems comfortable here and it makes you happy. 

You know he’s struggled with money all his life, especially now with no financial support from anyone. Knowing that he makes enough money here to pay for his apartment and maybe even a few nice things every now and then — and it’s not even a full time job — makes you happy for him.

He shouldn’t have to work a day in his life, or at least get paid for being Spider-Man, but there are worse jobs than this, and there are apartments more expensive than his, especially in New York. 

He jokes around with a few colleagues and once they’re gone he whispers their names to you. He’s told you about them before and it’s nice to finally put faces to the names. Peter smiles at you even though he can’t see you, but he’s looking right at you every time. 

You get bored after the first hour and Peter tells you to do what you want, and you want to go outside. 

You walk around a bit, observing people and the tiny moments of their life that you can witness. You wish you were like them. 

It starts raining and you rush down the stairs into a subway station. It always feels weird when you’re walking through the rain and you can’t feel any of the raindrops. 

You haven’t been at this station in ages - you had no reason to. You watch one train stop and go again, and suddenly you have the urge to go explore. You’ve never taken the time to notice what the underground tunnels look like - not on foot, anyway. 

You follow the next train from one station to the next, and you follow it for two more stations. It’s exhilarating how you’re on the tracks but the train can’t hurt you. You don’t have to be scared. 

You stop following the train as you take a right at a junction. A different train passes through you, and you walk through another station. At some point though, it’s all quiet. You realise that no train has passed you in twenty minutes, and you have no idea how far you’ve gone. 

Suddenly, you notice how dark it is. There are no lights at all except at the end of the tunnel, but it seems so far away. You turn around to go back. You know there is nothing to be scared of. If anyone’s here, they can’t see you, they can’t hurt you. 

Despite having no lungs, you feel out of breath as you rush back to where you came from - where you can see light. Your head snaps back when you hear something dripping behind you, then a few taps. 

You stop in your tracks - you can’t tell where the noise is coming from. You close your eyes and count how long you think it would take for a deep breath. 

When you open your eyes, the light is gone. It’s pitch black. You wish Peter was here to help you. How far from him are you? What if you won’t see him again? You don’t know how to get out of here. 

You remember you can float through anything, and you can just go upwards, and you’ll end on some New York street. But when you try, you’ve suddenly lost all sense of direction. It’s like you’re underwater, deep, and no matter how far up you float, you just won’t reach the surface. 

Not knowing what else to do, you keep going, anywhere. You’ll get back somehow, you have to. 

Then, a door appears in front of you, light coming from behind it. You touch the handle and before you open the door, you’re in a room, sitting on a pillow. 

You feel at home immediately. It’s like a spa for your brain. Comfy furniture and decorations, you can barely see the white of the walls. They’re covered in tapestry and spiritual ornaments. 

Suddenly, there’s a woman in front of you, sitting on the carpeted floor. She doesn’t look human, but she’s not a ghost like you either. You’re not sure if she’s even real. She’s ethereal. 

It crosses your mind for a second that you’ve overused your abilities as a ghost, and you’ve ended up in heaven after being hit by a subway train. Maybe God is sitting in front of you. 

When she opens her eyes, it feels like a privilege to look into them, but when she looks right back at you, you realise you never made yourself visible again. How can she see you?

She chuckles, and it’s like an angelic whisper. “Don’t worry, you’re still disguised. It’s just me who can see you like this. It’s okay, my darling. What are you here for?”

You take a few moments to answer. “I.. I didn’t come here for anything. I was just going for a walk and then ended up here. I don’t know how.”

The woman smiles. “That’s what they all say. But no one wanders down the subway tracks if they’re happy with their life. So, what can I do for you?”

“I don’t.. understand. Who are you?”

“There is nothing to understand. You’re overthinking it. Who I am is not important. Now tell me your biggest wish, currently.”

She smiled kindly as you try to process it. The more she looks at you, the more you trust her. Against your own wish to not expose your deepest desires in front of a stranger, you answer. “I want to be human again. I want to live a normal life. With other people. And I want to be able to cry, and to feel touch.”

“Ah,” she quietly laughs to herself, “I could have guessed that myself. You see, my love, what you need is a kiss from the one you love. And it will turn you back. But you get only one try, so choose wisely. Make sure it’s the right person.”

All of a sudden, you can’t help but laugh. You get what’s going on. You’ve ended up in the den of a crackhead or a homeless person who watched too many Disney films growing up. 

What are you doing, telling her about yourself?

She smiles at you warmly even after you laugh right in her face, and suddenly you feel bad. She might be out of her mind, but she seems kind. 

You open your mouth, but when you blink you’re standing in front of Peter’s office building. You look around a few times. Now you feel like you’re the one out of your mind. You stand there for what feels like a few minutes, confused as anything, a little scared too. 

You try to find an explanation and then remember that you’re a barely one year old ghost, and you probably still have a lot to learn. You hope it’s just that. 

You forget everything that just happened when you hear Peter’s voice. He’s helplessly fumbling with the straps of his backpack, looking left and right, calling out your name when the people passing are far enough away. You have no idea how long you’ve been gone. 

You go towards him and make yourself visible for a second, scaring him with a “Boo!”

He jumps and puts a hand on his chest. You become invisible again. “Oh my god, I thought I lost you. You were gone much longer than you said,” he whispers as people pass. 

“Sorry, I went exploring. I would have come home eventually though. I always will.”

You don’t want to scare him, so you don’t tell him what happened. You’re with him now, so you feel safe anyway. 

He smiles at you and you make your way back home together. Well, his home, you’re just a guest. 

He tells you what he did at work while you were gone and when he asks what you saw when you were out, you tell him you just followed a subway around. That’s why you were gone so long, you followed it for ages and had to go back all the way. 

You and Peter watch a film in the evening, but you’re not paying attention. You think back to your encounter with that woman - or whatever she was. 

Her words replay in your mind and you realise for the first time what she was actually telling you. 

A kiss from the one you love. 

Peter. 

She was telling you to kiss Peter. 

It’s like suddenly something clicks within you. 

You’re in love with him. 

You’re in love. With Peter.

He’s literally the only person you even have: he’s the one you love. 

It hasn’t occurred to you before that he’s more than a friend to you. Maybe you didn’t allow yourself to think it, because it would never work out.

But if that woman is right, you know it can work out. It all becomes as clear as glass. You’re in love with him.

You look at his face and you don’t know how you only saw a friend in him before. He laughs at the movie and the crinkles by his eyes become more prominent, and you just want to kiss them. 

His mouth is open in a wide grin as he looks at you and you stare at his lips until his grin fades after a while. “What?” He licks his lips, “Not funny? You said you liked the actor last time so I thought—”

“No. It’s not that. I’m just.. tired.”

“You’re tired? I didn’t know you could be tired.”

“Well uh, no, not tired. But. I don’t know. I just can’t focus on the film right now. Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a busy week,” you suggest. You want him to go to bed, so you can think in peace. 

“I am tired,” he smiles shyly, “I just didn’t want you to be bored. Didn’t wanna leave you alone for so long.”

It’s something he’s told you before. While he sleeps, you don’t. Sometimes you go out, but sometimes you stay in his apartment, right next to him. It’s weird when you spend so much time with him, but he’s asleep and it’s like he’s not actually there. 

But you tell him it’s okay, and twenty minutes later he’s snoring away while you float around in his room, thinking. 

You didn’t want to straight up tell him. You didn’t want to admit your crush, your love. It’s also a lot of pressure to tell him that he can turn you back into a human, fulfill your biggest dream, but only if he loves you back. 

If you tell him that you like him, and he rejects you, you’ll lose your only friend. So will he. You can’t do that to yourself or to him. 

But what about the woman? She seemed to know what she was talking about. She made you feel safe, once you decided to go along with the situation. 

You’re a floating ghost. You have no doubt that fortune tellers could be real.

Then again, it could have just been a homeless woman who was taking drugs in the dirty underground. You have no reason to believe her. You have no reason not to believe her either though.

Maybe you’re just going insane. You teleported to Peter right after. You didn’t know you could do that. Or maybe you‘ve been wrong all this time and ghosts don’t live forever. Maybe your mind is rotting, and maybe you’re dying. 

You sit down - you hover - next to Peter on the bed. He’s fast asleep, his hair all over the place. He’s curled up like a baby, and all you want to do is slip under the blanket with him and hold him.

You’ll decide that you’ll take the risk.

You won’t tell him that he could turn you human, but you’ll ask him for a kiss. If he rejects you you’ll… you don’t even want to think about how that would feel. But if he kisses you and you become human, you’ll be able to have a normal life again.

You’ll be able to kiss Peter, to hold his hand, to hug him. You’ll be able to make friends again, you’ll be able to cry, and actually feel the flutter of your heart when Peter smiles at you.

You’ve always trusted in your gut feeling, and in what’s in your heart. And right now you have hope in you. So you’ll trust in that.

By the time Peter wakes up, you’re sceptical again, and nervous. You’d much prefer to live a human life with Peter as your partner, but you couldn’t bare to ask Peter for a kiss, be rejected, and ruin your friendship. You’d be all alone again. You don’t want to risk that.

But you don’t want to be a ghost forever either - not if there’s another option.

You think for a few days, but you just can’t get the idea out of your head. You want to try it - you have to.

Peter has noticed that something’s off, and you don’t want to worry him any longer.

You’ve been trying to pay attention to how he treats you, how he looks at you - but you didn’t even realise you were in love for ages, so it’s even harder to realise if someone else is in love.

But, whether he’s in love with you or not, Peter is a kind soul. He won’t reject you in a mean way, or laugh at you if he doesn’t want to kiss you. It doesn’t mean that your friendship has to be ruined forever. 

And anyway, the woman said you need a kiss from the one you love. She never said anything about him loving you back, even though that is implied. She never said anything about romantic love either though, and one thing you are sure about is that Peter at least loves you as a friend.

Today is a day where Peter is being extra adorable. His smile, his hair, the look in his eyes. They’re all perfect. He’s perfect. You just want to kiss him, regardless of if it turns you into a human or not.

You’re in his room, watching a film, but you’re barely paying attention because you’re talking all the time. You wait for a moment where no one’s talking and you’re both watching the film. You ask him to pause it.

Before you can change your mind, you say it. 

“Peter, can you kiss me?” Your voice trembles at the end but his shy little smile gives you hope. He turns towards you, his cheeks turning red.

“I, I don’t know. Can I? I thought that wasn’t possible.”

“I know. But can you please try?”

“Oh. Okay.” He smiles softly and clears his throat, and then he leans in. He closes his eyes and so do you when you kiss him.

You briefly open your eyes again when nothing happens, to check if you’re close enough. 

You are close enough to kiss him.

You close your eyes again and try to think of how badly you want to turn human again. Maybe you need to convince whoever is responsible for turning you back. A whine slips past your lips when nothing happens.

Peter pulls away and you open your eyes. You look down at yourself.

Still a ghost.

Nothing has changed.

“I have to go.” You don’t even look at him as you get up and leave. 

Peter follows you, “No, wait. Wait.”

You make yourself invisible and he stops in his tracks. You stay there - Peter is your safe place, you have nowhere else to go. Peter calls out for you a few times, turning to see if he can find you. He usually can, it’s like he can just feel you, maybe it’s to do with his spidey senses. But this time, while he’s panicking, he can’t calm down to feel where you are.

You leave when a neighbour comes to curse at Peter for being so loud. 

You hide in the cellar, where no one bothers you. You’ve never wanted to cry more than now, but you just can’t. The sensation, the urge to cry, is there, but you have no tears.

It was stupid to even think you could kiss him. You thought you’d turn into a solid human once your lips touched. All you did was make it awkward for both of you.

And you can’t believe you were dumb enough to believe that woman. You feel pathetic for letting yourself feel so much hope, all because of what a stranger on drugs said to you.

Or maybe that woman told you the truth. Maybe the woman was right, and Peter just doesn’t love you. Realising that hurts more than knowing you’ll be alone and a ghost forever.

You don’t think you can ever look Peter in the eyes again. You hate to take away the only friend he has, but after putting so much hope in him and being disappointed - you can’t just be his friend. It was unfair of you to expect him to be in love with you, but it didn’t stop you from doing it.

After staying in the basement a day and a night, and trying but failing to cry, you realise something. If the woman was right, and there is a way for you to get your life back, and the issue was just Peter’s feelings for you, or rather the lack thereof, she should also know how to end your life.

Turning back into a human would revive you, and make your existence into a life that is worth living. If she knows how to do that, she might know you can stop existing altogether. If you can’t find love, what’s the point of being here?

You’ll go along the subway tracks again, and hopefully you’ll find her.

But, even though you don’t want to see him again, you want to say goodbye to Peter. See him one last time. It’s early, so you hope he’s still asleep.

You make your way up to his floor, floating past all of the windows below his. It’s cold and it’s raining, and the sun isn’t quite up yet. You can only just see Peter through his fogged up window.

He’s asleep, but the covers are on the floor, and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore when you last saw him. You hope he’s not too sad. You know he can make other friends. Maybe even meet someone he can fall in love with. You think he’ll be okay.

You curse when a raindrop hits you right in the eye, and the noise you make wakes Peter up. You freeze when he looks right at you and gets out of bed.

“You’re back,” he beams, but you see the dark circles under his eyes.

You look down at yourself and realise you forgot to make yourself invisible. You try, it’s like an instinct at this point - you usually think about it and you become invisible. But nothing happens.

You go through Peter’s window and meet him on the other side. You haven’t seen him in a day, and you already missed being so close to him. God, not being able to hug him will be the death of you.

Peter starts stuttering about how worried he was and how glad he is to see you, meanwhile you’re still trying to make yourself invisible. Finally, you stop him. “You can see me?”

“Oh, uh,” he frowns, “Yeah?”

That’s when you realise. “Wait. Peter. Oh my god. I just felt a raindrop in my eye, when I was outside. There was a raindrop in my eye! And my back has been hurting all night, Peter. My back hurts!”

“I didn’t know your back could hurt.”

“It couldn’t, but now it does. I was sitting down in your basement for like a whole day. And now my back hurt. And I can’t make myself invisible anymore,” you’re nearly shouting now.

Peter looks at you for a few seconds as he processes what you’re saying, “Wait. Are you…”

“I think I am.”

You try to grab his hands in excitement but it doesn’t work. “Oh. And wait, I just floated right through your window. Maybe I… maybe I imagined feeling the raindrop.” You look down as your smile turns into a frown. You’ve once again let yourself get too hopeful about something you’re not sure was even real.

“Try again,” Peter says, folding his arms in front of him, “Try walking through my door.”

“What?” You ask, annoyed.

“Try to go through my door like you always do.” He turns towards his door and you sigh. You float right through the door and come back. Still a ghost. You just want to go back into the basement - you don’t even have enough energy to try and find the subway woman anymore.

“Again,” Peter says. You stare at him and he stares back until you turn around to pathetically float through his door a few times. He tells you to do it again and again but you’ve had enough. You try to float back into his apartment again but you crash against the door with a bang.

Peter comes running and opens the door, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

You don’t answer him - you have no words. You look down at yourself - still a ghost - but you just felt something you haven’t felt in years. You just touched that door, and you felt it in your whole body.

Peter has tears in his eyes now and you look at him, “Peter, what does this mean? Oh my god.”

“I don’t know. Try again,” he says.

You float right through his door about ten times until you bang against it again. This time Peter sees you, and he’s speechless for a few seconds.

“You just- I just- I saw you. As a human. It’s like you flickered to life for a second and you – you weren’t a ghost anymore,” he looks at you completely in awe and it’s like you can feel your heartbeat. You look at your body, and it’s still transparent - there’s no heart inside of you - but you’re hopeful now. And it finally feels like you actually have a reason to be.

“So- so what, should I just walk through your door over and over again until I become solid?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t think we should force it. Maybe your atoms are still learning how to be atoms again.”

You squint at him, “Thought you were supposed to be good at physics. That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“I don’t know how much of this is science and how much is.. magic. I don’t know. Maybe we just need to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“I know, neither can I. But you’ll just hurt yourself by banging against a door ten times. Let’s just sit it out and distract ourselves and wait and see.”

He closes the door and sits on his bed, his eyes never leaving you. You blink at him. 

“Peter. I can’t just sit with you here pretending that everything is fine between us and like this doesn’t determine my whole entire being and my life, and my relationship with the only living person I love.”

He looks at you in confusion, “Why does it determine our relationship?”

“You won’t want to be with me if I keep being a ghost.”

“What? Why not?”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t even kiss me. You won’t ever be able to take me on a date anywhere. I can’t even exist except in this apartment.”

“I don’t care as long as we’re together. And I won’t lie, or course it sucks that I can’t kiss you. And that I can’t hug you. But I don’t love you for physical things. I love you for who you are. I love you for things that go beyond flesh and bones and biologically being a human. Who cares about that? I’m in love with who you are in your soul, not your body.”

You can’t believe what he’s telling you. “You’d want to be with me even if I stayed a ghost?”

“Of course. Without a doubt. You think I would have fallen in love with you if it was a dealbreaker for me that you don’t have a physical body?”

That’s when you suddenly realise that you’ve just confessed your feelings for him. And he feels the same. 

“You’re in love with me?” You feel your whole body flickering for a second, and from Peter’s face you can tell he saw it too. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, and you both take a step towards each other. The fact that you’re turning back into a human means the woman was right. She was real and she was telling you the truth. You found the right person and kissed him, and now you’re going to be human again. 

You can’t believe it. Well, you’re still a ghost but you don’t know what else this would be.

“I’m so in love with you too,” you confess, and you’re grinning at each other so much you could cry. Maybe soon you’ll actually be able to. You can’t wait to cry again.

“Mmmmmh Peter, you better have some good distractions.”

You decide you shouldn’t go outside since you can’t make yourself invisible anymore, so you watch some movies, but you’re both too giddy to pay attention for even a single second.

By evening, you’re still a ghost, and while your hope isn’t gone, you’re starting to overthink. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just imagining things because I’m hopeful? Or what if this is a weird stage between ghost and human that I’m trapped in now? And-and what if that woman was just lying to me, what if she’s cursed me or if she was a crazy woman and I’ve put my whole hope and trust in her and believed that it could turn my whole life around?”

“Wait, what woman?” Peter asks.

Oh. You weren’t going to tell him until this whole turning into a human thing has been sorted. Knowing that Peter loves you back is the only thing that matters, you thought the details could wait.

“Do you remember when you took me to your office a few weeks ago, and I disappeared for a bit? I met this woman, I don’t know if she was a human or a ghost or what, but she seemed so trustworthy and angelic, and she told me… she asked me what my biggest wish was, and I told her I want to be human again. She said I need to kiss the one I love and it will turn me back.”

His gaze turns soft and then excited. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have kissed you right then and there and you could be a human by now. Why are you still doubting that this is working? Oh my god. And I’m the one you chose. I love you.” He runs a hand through his hair and leans in to touch you, but pulls back when he realises he can’t. Not yet. But soon.

You giggle, “I love you too. But I was scared you didn’t feel the same. And I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we have. That’s why I ran away after we kissed. I thought I’d messed everything up. And I wasn’t even sure if that woman was real, so I doubted that you’d believe me.”

“Of course I would have believed you,” he smiles.

“And also… I was scared that it wouldn’t work. And we still don’t know if it worked. I mean, look at me.” You try to take his hand but your hand goes right through his.

“It will work. But you’ve been a ghost for a while now, it will take some time.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll find a different way. I promise. And even if not, I’ll make your life worth living. Even as a ghost. I think in the end we’re all just ghosts. Some of us have flesh bodies with gross organs inside. Some of us are just a beautiful floating soul like you.”

You smile and lean in, trying to touch him again. It doesn’t work, but now that you know he loves you either way, it doesn’t matter as much. You’d still prefer a human life though.

You wake up late the next morning. All the excitement must have tired you out eventually. You turn around and see Peter still sleeping, a smile on his face. 

You stare at him for a bit. At his toned biceps and the rest of his arm, all the way down to his hand that’s resting on your hip.

His hand. That is resting. On your hip. 

You jump up when you look at your legs and they’re actual legs. You’re lying down in Peter’s bed. You’re not floating anymore. And you just woke up. You slept.

You’re human.

All your moving around wakes Peter up and he’s confused for the first few moments, his brain taking a while to start working.

“Peter, I have a flesh body with gross organs inside!” You sit up and jump around on the bed, waiting for him to fully wake up so you can finally finally kiss him.

His eyes go wide when he takes in your body, your human self, and he almost lunges forward to wrap his arms around you and meet your lips in a bruising kiss. You pull him as close to you as you can, pressing your lips against his, and you start to cry. You can’t believe that it’s actually happened. That you’re actually kissing Peter.

You want to kiss him for the rest of your life, but you haven’t touched anything in over a year, so feeling your body for the first time in a long time, being kissed and crying at the same time is a little overwhelming. 

When you place your hand on Peter’s chest, he immediately understands what you’re asking and he pushes himself off of you, only hovering above you. His eyes are filled with tears and one of them rolls down his face and lands on your chin, and he wipes it away quickly. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay.” You don’t wipe away your own tears, you want to feel them on your face. The tears feel even more magical than a kiss turning you from a ghost into a human. “Peter,” you take his face between your hands and cup his cheeks, “Look. I have real tears on my face! And I can feel them., I missed them so so much.”

Peter cries with you and turns his face to kiss your hand. “You’re so beautiful. I mean, you were beautiful before but, god. It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.”

You’re about to respond when your stomach growls loudly and you both look down at it. 

“You must be hungry,” Peter says, getting off of you and walking to the kitchen area, “I can, I think I can make some pancakes. Or just toast? I don’t know if your stomach will have to get used to food again first.”

You sit up and stare at him for a bit. He’s so gorgeous. You’re so glad you met him.

“I want to shower first. Haven’t showered in like a year,” you laugh, walking over to him. Peter lifts your arm and shoves his nose against your armpit, “You smell fine. You smell lovely, actually.” You scream and you giggle as you run away from him through his small but cozy apartment. If you’re honest, it smells a lot better than what you expected of such an old building. You’ve grown so fond of it, although that’s mostly because of Peter.

“Shit,” you realise, “I have to get a job now. And buy food and clothes and pay rent and find a place to live. I wanna be a ghost again,” you joke, but Peter takes your hand and gently pulls you towards him.

“I won’t let that happen. Just stay here. For now, or forever if you want. And I’ll make sure to feed you, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

You step closer to him and grin against his face. You can see he wants to kiss you, but isn’t sure if he can in case it’s overwhelming. You give him a short kiss and ask him if you can shower. He tells you you can do whatever you want and to tell him if you need anything - including alone time without him. But for now, you just need a shower.

When you come out of the bathroom, Peter has bought new clothes for you. You’re in the clothes you died in, so you’d rather wear anything else, but the clothes Peter bought are quite nice and fit perfectly. He says he just ran to that thrift store around the corner and got you loads of clothes for less than twenty dollars. You always wanted to go there with him. Now you can. 

You can do whatever you want with Peter, wherever you want. You can meet new people and make new friends. And you can live a human life. 

Peter makes breakfast for you and you spend the rest of the day lying in bed with him, occasionally holding hands or kissing for a second, but making out or even cuddling is still overstimulating. You know you’ll get there soon and you can’t wait until you do so you can physically show Peter just how much you love him, but for now being brought back to life is already making you feel enough things. 

You nearly forget that you have to sleep again now. That’s until you yawn and you realise how exhausted you are. Peter tells you to go to sleep and he’ll look after you. 

You fall asleep holding his hand. 

The next day, Peter has to go back to work, so you spend some time alone. 

You touch yourself all over your body, just feeling yourself. 

You’re much more used to touch now than you were yesterday, so your hand sneaks down between your thighs, giving yourself the best orgasm of your life. 

It’s just you and your body, making love to yourself.

You go for a long walk, enjoying every aspect of it. You don’t have a winter coat so you just take a blanket with you. You hardly even stand out for New York’s standards. 

The colourful leaves have all fallen by now and you missed being able to step on the crunchy ones. You missed feeling the wind on your face and how your nose gets all cold in the late autumn air. 

You kiss Peter for longer than ever before when he comes home from work, and then you hug him for about ten minutes. And then you kiss him again. 

He takes you grocery shopping so he can cook you your favourite meals and he can learn what you like. 

You’re in the fruit aisle, asking him which apples to get, and you realise he’s not listening to you, just staring. “What?“ You start grinning at his lovesick expression. 

“Nothing. I just love you so much. I mean, look at you.” He twirls you around and doesn’t let go of your hand, “You’re so.. alive,” you both laugh, but you know what he means, “You’re so vibrant. And full of life. You were beautiful before but now? Wow. Like. Oh my fucking god.”

You let him stare and just get the apples that look the best to you. 

You’re walking through the streets hand-in-hand a while later. You’re on your way home, enjoying life and enjoying that you can touch Peter and that you can walk outside without having to make yourself invisible. 

“The one thing I didn’t miss is how bad this city smells sometimes,” you scrunch up your nose and Peter kisses it. You chase the smell of him when he pulls back, burying your nose against his neck, humming, “Mmh, you smell good though.”

“You smell better,” he grins and kisses your lips, his cold, red nose brushing up against your cheek. 

While Peter unlocks the front door to your building, you hear an unmistakable meow from behind you. Lucky. You haven’t seen her in weeks. You were worried something happened to her. 

You crouch down in front of her, reaching out your hand. She immediately pushes her head against your palm, asking  you to pet her. 

You don’t know how - because you didn’t have a smell when you were a ghost - but she recognises you. She knows you. And you finally get to feel her soft fur and make her purr for as long as she wants to. 

You don’t dare ask Peter - it’s technically only his apartment and you don’t even know if pets are allowed in the building. “Just take her,” he playfully rolls his eyes and holds the door open for you and Lucky. You’ll let her go out whenever she wants, but if she can’t be bothered catching mice or needs a warm place to stay or to get a cuddle, you want to be there for her. She got you through some rough times. 

You and Peter end up cooking together - it’s much more fun like that. Lucky is snoring on your bed, but she’s on Peter’s side, so you leave her there. Lucky stays out most of the time, but you see her every few days, and always welcome her in. 

You get yourself a pretty winter coat in a small shop not far from your and Peter’s place, and you notice a sign saying they’re hiring. The manager is beyond kind and it’s only a few hours a week, and you get the job. You don’t really need it while you’re living with Peter in his apartment, but you need something to do and now you and Peter really don’t have to worry about paying rent each month. 

You pick Peter up from work that day in your new, pretty coat and it starts snowing. It’s the first snow of the year. Peter tells you how sad and depressed he was last winter and how happy he is now. You tell him how sad and depressed you were last winter and how happy you are now. 

You were both so lonely. So lost. With an existence you could barely call a life. And you found each other, and it changed everything. He’s your person. And you’re his. 

Peter takes you to meet some colleagues outside of work for the first time and you invite a neighbour you were talking to the other day in your building’s laundry room. You can already see her becoming a new friend, and afterwards Peter tells you how well he gets along with one of his colleagues. It’s a good day. 

By now, you’re completely used to all touch and sensation. You can kiss Peter for as long as you want without feeling overwhelmed, and you keep wanting more and more. 

Your watching a film one Friday night turns into nothing but kissing. Kissing kissing kissing. It’s not enough though, and you pull Peter’s hoodie off over his head. 

“I need you,” you softly say into his ear and he grins. 

“You sure?”

“I’m so sure, Peter, please.” You’ve been thinking about having sex with Peter for months now, so now that you’re finally ready, you’re ready. 

He smiles at you and leans down to kiss your neck, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingers slowly sliding up your belly. 

It’s torture how light his touch is, so you pull off the shirt you’re wearing, leaving you only in your panties. 

Peter licks his lips as he looks at you and slowly lowers his face to your chest, kissing between your breasts and then gently taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

You grab onto his hair and sigh in pleasure, his hands making their way up your sides, but soon you’re hungry for more. Your fingers glide down his chest, past his abs, and find his hard cock beneath his sweatpants. 

He stops what he’s doing and moans, pressing his head against your shoulder as you begin to tease him with featherlight touch over his briefs. “Fuck,” he groans, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

The pleasure written all over his features makes you stop what you’re doing. You lift your legs to push your panties down your legs. You’re trying to get Peter’s pants off too but he sits up to spread your legs and sit between them.

Your cheeks heat up as he spreads your lips to look at your pussy, and he shyly tells you how pretty you are. You can feel his breath on your skin and you’re getting wetter by the second. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, pressing his lips against your inner thighs with a wet mouth.

“Yes, fuck, more than okay.” 

Then his mouth is finally on your clit, and you gasp when you first feel his wet tongue on your pussy. You tell him what to do and he quickly gets the hang of it, his eyes focussing on your face to see what you like most.

He slowly and gently plays with your pussy until you cum all over his face with a cry of his name, and then he doesn’t stop until you cum another time. By your second orgasm, you’re grabbing his hair and grinding your pussy against his face, begging him to get inside of you.

He stands up to get the condom but when you see the bulge in his sweatpants, you want him in your mouth.

You sit up to kneel at the edge of the bed, next to where he’s standing. You touch him over his pants and look up at him with angel eyes. “Can I?”

“Fuck. Of course.” He drops the condoms when you pull down his sweats and wrap your hand around his hard cock.

You’re looking up at him as you take your time with him, tracing his length with wet lips, gently licking his balls, and then you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. You take him deeper each time, slowly moving your head up and down, your spit dripping down him. 

He opens his mouth, and nothing but a desperate moan comes out, making you suck his dick faster. You grab his thigh to steady yourself, hollowing your cheeks every time you take him deeper into your mouth.

Seeing him all worked up, gasping and moaning, is making you so wet and desperate, but you can’t stop - you don’t want to. You can hear how close he is by how short his breaths are and how broken his voice sounds.

“Fuck– fuck,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and then he puts a hand on your cheek, making you stop.

“I wanna be inside of you now. I need to–” he takes off his pants and puts on the condom while you lie back down, spreading your legs. Peter stops when he gets back on the bed and presses a kiss onto your clit, taking a second to taste you again.

“Peter…” your whimper, making his head snap towards your face.

“Okay, yes, okay,” he quickly positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with you, “You sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, Peter. Just fuck me.”

He grins and kisses you as he slowly pushes into you. You wrap your arms around him and hold him as close to you as you can. You stop kissing him back - you feel too good to do anything.

All the desperation is gone, it’s just you and him now, taking your time. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. Only Peter does.

He looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you, as deep as he can, and you wrap your legs around his waist, so you’re spread out even more for him. “I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you say, pulling him even closer. You search for his hand and he brings it up to your face. You open your mouth so he can push a finger past your lips, and you hum as you suck his finger into your mouth. The only sounds you can hear are Peter’s breaths, him sliding into your wet pussy, and your wet lips around his finger.

You’re still looking right into his eyes, and he doesn’t look away. You chase his finger with your mouth when he pulls it away, but he quickly soothes you with a deep kiss.

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks, bringing his thumb between your legs to rub your clit. He’s holding himself up with his forearm, still fucking you while he touches your clit.

You never knew how strong he was. But now that he’s on top of you, so desperate and so close, his big biceps right next to your face, he’s still doing everything he can to make you feel good - no weakness in sight.

You feel your orgasm approaching, and press your lips against his. “Fuck, so good for me, so pretty,” he whispers against your mouth, keeping the rhythm steady against your clit.

The waves of your orgasm flood you with pleasure and spread through your whole body. You arch up into him, pressing your chest against his. Your pussy squeezes him so tight that he cums with you, moaning into your mouth, short thrusts into your pussy until you’re both coming down from your highs.

You stay wrapped in each other for a while, his forehead pressed against yours. You’re breathing each other, pressing kisses onto each other’s faces.

“I love you,” he says, still out of breath.

You grin at him and put your hand on his cheek as you kiss him, “I love you too.”

You’re walking down the streets of a holiday-themed market a few weeks later, a hot drink in one hand, your other one intertwined with Peter’s, snowflakes flying through the air.

He’s showing you a cute holiday bauble when you see the reflection of someone you know in it. Your quickly turn around and then you see the woman. The woman who told you how to become human. 

She’s standing far away, but you can see her clearly. She smiles at you and you beam back at her. You want to walk towards her to thank her, but something tells you to stay right where you are. 

“I knew you’d make the right choice,” she smiles warmly, and then she vanishes into thin air. You grin. 

You look at Peter and his adorable face for a few seconds. Then you grab him to kiss him, and he kisses you back with so much love. 

She’s right. You made the right choice. 

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | twenty four

*Ellie's POV* (we'll get Noah's pov back soon I promise lol) The next couple days flew by for us, I felt like we were busy every waking moment. The boys came back a day early due to wildfire warnings up north, so I had to send them out on a mission to get air mattresses for everyone since our guest beds wouldn’t arrive for a couple weeks. The boys were also kind enough to keep Liam busy while Noah and I finished unpacking and visited Ikea more than I care to admit.

Liam loved the house, thankfully. I had my doubts because he sometimes has a hard time with change but he's adapted so well to everything. He spent most of his time in the pool, mostly with Folio, who didn’t seem to mind at all. They both had so much fun together. I’m just so relieved all of Noah’s friends treat Liam the way they do, and that he likes them just as much.

Tonight was the housewarming party, and I was far from thrilled to be outnumbered by fifteen boys. I guess some of guys from previous tours were coming up today as well. Who? I had no idea. Ruffilo flew in last night with Steven and Josh… Matt was supposed to be here at some point today too. I was over stressing about it because it was so fucking petty at this point, considering he had my number blocked. If he hated me, fine. I’d stay out of his way and if not… I deserved an explanation for being blocked. After dropping Liam off at Tyler’s I headed back home and went back to bed. I had been so exhausted this entire week and it was finally catching up to me. I had spent all last night cleaning and setting everything up the best I could to host a party. I just needed to grab food and booze, but that can wait a couple more hours. It was around 1pm when my eyes flickered open. The house was quiet but I heard voices outside, and I heard one I haven’t heard in months.

I ran over to my window and peered outside, I saw some of the boys from Erra, Devin and Kooter from I see stars were here talking with everyone, but there was no sign of Matt. Am I that sleep deprived that I’m hearing voices? I threw on some biker shorts and one of my million Bad Omens t-shirts before heading into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I threw my glasses on and as soon as I could see, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Holy shit.

“H…Hi.” He met my gaze as he stood in the kitchen, not looking happy to see me in the slightest. He looked the same, maybe a little bit more tanned from the summer heat but that was it. I felt a lump form in the back of my throat, I never realized how much I missed him until now. I didn’t want him back, I just missed being around him and being his best friend. Neither of us were moving, his eyes were locked on me to the point I started to feel uneasy. My lips parted to say something else but he just walked past me without a single word.

“You can’t avoid me forever.” I spat out while he was still in ear shot. 

“Watch me.” 

Rolling my eyes, I quickly made myself some coffee before heading outside to say hi to the boys. They were all sitting around the pool, some of them were already in there to beat the heat. Every time I turned around, someone new arrived. Michael from Chief even came up which was a nice surprise. Him and Noah were so close so it was nice to see him come up to support us. Jesse and Clint hugged me before I made my way over to Noah who was sitting with Ruffilo, Davis and Jolly.

“Hey, El did you not get the memo?” Folio asked me as he walked past me with a coffee, my eyebrow raised at him, “no girls allowed.” “Yeah, go away.” 

Noah shook his head, a small smirk appeared on his face as he walked over to me, “settle down guys.” “Let me remind you that I’m feeding you guys and giving you free booze later.” Noah motioned for me to walk away with him. As soon as we were out of ear shot of the boys he kissed me, his hands gripping into my sides like he hasn’t seen me in days.  “Someone was tired today.” “I guess everything hit me finally.” I replied before taking a small sip of my coffee. “It’s okay honey, you’ve worked really hard this week.” He beamed, kissing me again. We both held our breath as Matt walked passed us, taking Noah’s spot with the guys, “I’m also sorry at how fucking forgetful I’ve been because I was going to warn you Matt was here.” “I’m okay, Noah. It had to happen eventually.” I assured him, catching myself kissing him again. I could feel Matt’s eyes burning a hole through me and I grew uncomfortable. “I’m gonna head to Costco and the liquor store after I have a shower.” “Perfect, can you take Folio with you?” I rolled my eyes, “here I thought I was going to have a kid free day.” “I love you too.” Noah chuckled, kissing me again before heading back over to the guys. “Folio be ready in an hour, we’re going on a field trip.” I went back inside, sighing heavily because Matt has annoyed me already. Why did he bother coming up here if he’s just going to ignore me but stare at me the entire time? Tonight was going to be interesting. 

“Are you okay with everything at the house?” I looked over at Folio as we stood in Costco trying to decide on chip flavours to get. I thought I had let it go, but he picked up on it quickly because I was so silent the entire car ride here. Folio had a way with reading people, and he could read me like a book. 

“Earlier, he was in the kitchen and I went to talk to him but he just walked past me.” I started, “I said to him that he couldn’t avoid me and he said ‘watch me.’ I just don’t understand why he would come all this way to act this stupid.” “That’s Matt for you, unfortunately.” Folio sighed as he grabbed a bag of Doritos and tossed them into the cart. “He’s fucking petty about every little thing. Just don’t play into it.” “I don’t plan to but if he starts anything I’ll happily remind him he’s at my house warming party with you know, my boyfriend.” “fuck, you’re not any better.” He chuckled, "this should be a fun night.” “You’re telling me.”