#hello neighbor puzzle master

[neasiie]

I have a headcanon that living in the basement, Aaron has mannequin versions of his friends Nicky, Enzo, Trinity & Maritza that he has in fact made himself but he's sure that it was his Dad who made them in order to make his son feel less lonely (he's so traumatized that he can no longer differentiate his own creations from his Dad's)

ps: this might sound weird but in my head it seems really dramatic

#hello neighbor #hello neighbor 2 #hello neighbor books #hello neighbor hide and seek #hn #raven brooks #aaron peterson #hello neighbor aaron #hello neighbor grave mistakes #hello neighbor mya #hello neighbor thoughts #mya peterson #hello neighbor puzzle master #hello neighbor headcanon #headcanon #hello neighbor nicky #hello neighbor notes #hello neighbor trinity #hello neighbor enzo #hello neighbor maritza #maritza esposito #enzo esposito #trinity bales #the petersons #hello neighbor buried secrets #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor waking nightmare

[echo-goes-mmm]

Divine Intervention AU #9

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Ambrose had transformed his fabric front door into a solid wooden one, and in hindsight that was a mistake. It was juicy bait to his more… nosy neighbors. 

“Ambrose!” called Emry from the door. “Open up, kiddo! We haven’t seen you in weeks!”

Ambrose sighed. He opened the door to find both Emry and Mael on his doorstep. Emry threw his arms around Ambrose. Okay, he couldn’t turn down one of Emry’s hugs. They were just so nice.

“It’s been a week, if that. And you’re not that much older than me.” 

“Oh, Ambrose,” said Mael, smiling. “You’re never going to win that one.”

“Mhm. What brings you both to visit?”

Emry grinned. “I heard you brought home a friend. Can I meet him? I brought a present!” He procured a stuffed mouse toy from his pocket.

“Emry, did you think I got a cat?” laughed Ambrose. Emry pouted.

“Well, Cato wasn’t really specific.”

“Does that mean I won?” interrupted Mael. He held up his hand, which had a dog chew in the shape of a bone. “I totally called it.”

“No way! Ambrose is totally a cat person,” argued Emry.

“Well, both of you are wrong. Elliot is a mortal. And yes, you can meet him, but he’s skittish, so tone it down a little. And no weapons!” Mael vanished his sword.

He led them inside, where Elliot was working on a jigsaw puzzle. He looked up at them, startled.

“Pet, this is Mael-” Mael waved- “and this is Emry. They’re friends of mine.”

“Well hi there, kiddo!” 

“Um. Hello.”

___________________

The two gods, Mael and Emry, looked very different from Cato and Ambrose. Their eyes were a normal brown and so was their hair. Mael was muscular and toned, and he looked like one of those old statues in his white and red toga. 

Emry was short for a god, and was the opposite of lean and lanky. He also wore a toga, but his was powder blue and he had freckles all over. 

Elliot wasn’t sure about Mael, but he immediately liked Emry. 

“I’m going to make some tea,” said Ambrose. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him alone with the others. Uh oh.

“So,” said Mael, flopping down on the couch. “Where ya from?”

“Uh. Azoth, sir,” He made a face.

“Don’t be rude, Mael,” Emry chastised. “I’m sure it’s a very nice place.”

“It’s a slaver’s country, Emry.”

“Oh.” 

Emry sat on the nearest armchair. “How did you meet Ambrose?”

“I was about to be sacrificed on his altar, and he didn’t want me to die.” 

“Oh.”

They lapsed into silence. 

“So do you like living here?” asked Mael.

“Yes. It’s very nice. I like the koi pond,” he said.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mael, “I conjured that. The fountain took a bit of work but I think I blended the stone in well. What do you think of the colors on the fish? I picked the color pallet from mortal fish of course-” Mael went on about the fish as Ambrose brought in the tea.

“He can go on for hours,” stage-whispered Ambrose. Emry snorted into his cup.

“Hey!” said Mael, in what was clearly mock-offense. “He brought it up.”

“It’s a very nice pond, sir. And the fish are very pretty.”

Mael beamed. “At least someone appreciates what I do.”

“We all love your creations, hun,” said Emry. He turned to Elliot. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to see Ambrose making new friends.”

Ambrose sputtered. “I have plenty of friends!”

“I didn’t mean that,” said Emry, “just that you don’t branch out much. You don’t see the gods outside our little villa very often, and you restrict yourself to the people who come to your temple.” Ambrose frowned.

 “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” he added.

“Nice save, Emry,” said Mael, dryly.

They chatted over his head for a while, and they did include him in conversation, but Elliot just wanted to do the puzzle Ambrose had gotten him. But he was polite, and soon enough Master Ambrose’s friends left.

Master poured himself another cup of tea, and sat quietly for a while as Elliot worked on the puzzle.

“What are you thinking about?” said Ambrose.

“Not much,” he said. But there was something Emry had said that stuck in his mind. He called the place they were living in a “little villa”. And there were even more gods outside of it. He shuddered at the thought. If Ambrose didn’t know all of them, like Emry said, there was nothing between him and getting snatched up.

“Master?”

“Hm?” 

“Could… could I have a collar?” Please say yes, he thought. Master Ambrose put down the teacup. Bad sign.

“Why would you want a collar?” Master uncrossed his ankles, leaning towards him.

“I- I just.” He took a deep breath. “Um. There’s a lot of people around.” He fidgeted with the puzzle pieces. 

“Do you feel unsafe?” asked Ambrose.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not everybody knows I’m yours.”

Master hummed. “And will a collar help you feel safe?”

Was this a trick question?

“I think so? I could take it off if- if it doesn’t work.”

“Well… I suppose I did promise you could wear whatever you wanted. If you want a collar, I’ll get you one.”

___________________

Ambrose thought it over. He wouldn’t go back on his word, it wouldn’t be fair. Some part of him worried what the others might think, but fuck it. They knew Ambrose better than anyone, and Cato probably already knew he was Elliot’s Master. He overheard Elliot tell Mael and Emry that he was both a sacrifice and from a slaver’s country. It didn’t take a genius to guess what that meant.

No one would think poorly of Ambrose if Elliot started wearing a collar. And aside from Mael, his brother Maelys, or maybe Valerian, no one would comment on it. 

If Elliot wanted a collar, Ambrose would get him the best damn collar he could conjure.

___________________

It took a few tries to get it right, but Ambrose was confident Elliot would like it. Soft black leather with a fur lining, it would be comfortable. He made the brass buckle as lightweight as possible, and there was a brass o-ring in front. It was a collar, after all.

 He did take the liberty of making the stitching a burnt yellow, so it would blend better with the black. Yellow was his color, and with the serpent sigil carved into the leather, no one could claim they didn’t know Elliot was under his care.

Hopefully it would help Elliot feel protected.

“Treasure,” he called, before stepping into the room, “I got you a present.”

Elliot looked up from his bowl of pasta. His eyes focused in on the leather in Ambrose’s hand. He put down the fork.

___________________ 

“Is that for me? Really?” he whispered. 

“Of course.” Ambrose sat in the chair next to him. Elliot looked closely at it. A snake was carved into the side, and it was so pretty. Intricate and detailed, he could see each scale, and the brass of the ring and buckle was so shiny. Master looped the leather around Elliot’s neck. It was so soft on the inside. Master Ambrose’s fingers brushed the nape of his neck as he fastened the collar.

“How is it?” he asked. He slipped two fingers underneath to test the fit. “Not too tight?”

“It’s perfect, Master. Thank you.”

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285

#Ambrose is just fully leaning in to the pet stuff huh #ambrose and elliot #divine intervention au #slavery whump #my writing #whump #pet caretaking

[julierysava]

🏢 Monday Mind Bender: Can You Solve This Classic Riddle? 🧩🤔

Hello, fellow riddle enthusiasts! 🌟 Welcome to another exhilarating edition of Monday Mind Bender. Today, we're about to embark on a puzzle-solving journey set within the intriguing confines of a bustling apartment building. Get your thinking caps on, because this classic riddle will put your deductive skills to the test. Challenge yourself, have fun, and share your answers in the comments below!

🏢 The Riddle: In a 10-story apartment building, each floor has four apartments. Here's the catch: on each floor, the residents are all friends with each other. Now, let's dive into the details:

Mr. Anderson lives on the top floor.

The Johnsons live in the first apartment on each floor.

The Browns live in a corner apartment on the top floor.

The Smiths live next door to the Andersons.

The Martins live next to the Johnsons.

The Clarks live next door to the Browns.

The Davis family occupies a corner apartment.

The Wilsons live next to the Browns.

The Thompsons live on a lower floor than the Johnsons.

The Evans family lives next to the Clarks.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to determine on which floor each family lives, and in which apartment. Can you unravel this apartment building puzzle?

🔎 Solving the Riddle: To decipher this classic riddle, pay close attention to the relationships between the families, their positions on each floor, and any clues about their neighbors. This puzzle is a delightful mix of logic and deduction, perfect for sharpening those problem-solving skills.

🧩 Engage and Collaborate: Once you've cracked the code or want to brainstorm, share your insights in the comments. Join the community of riddle solvers, exchange ideas, and see if you can collectively unravel the mysteries of this apartment building. Riddles are more fun when tackled as a team!

🏆 The Riddle Master: Think you've got the solution? Fantastic! Share your findings and let's find out who among you is the true Riddle Master. Keep those mental gears turning, and let's conquer this intricate apartment building enigma together.

Happy riddle-solving, Tumblr friends! 🧠🏢🌟

#MondayMindBender #RiddleChallenge #PuzzleSolving #LogicPuzzles #BrainTeasers #ProblemSolving #MondayMystery #ApartmentRiddle #CuriousMinds #SolveThePuzzle #EngageYourMind #RiddleMeThis #CommunityOfThinkers #UnlockTheSolution #Teamwork #MindBendingRiddles #StayCurious #ChallengeAccepted #RiddleOfTheDay #MindGames #FunAndLearning

#julie

[qinyueguan]

Week Progress 1

Art Echoes of the plum grove

Not yet released 2.5D game, very similar to Animal Mori Friendship, with characters made in 2D, effectively showing the scene, easy to make, not easily dizzy 3D, but immersion is lacking, lack of immersion, and different narrative objectives, not conducive to the player to bring in the victim.

Hello Neighbor 2

I downloaded the trial demo, 3-dimensional puzzle game, beautiful scene style, immersion storytelling are very good, art this part is too complex not applicable to the project, but can be used as a reference.

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1321680/Hello_Neighbor_2/

The Deed

Found a stunning 2d narrative puzzle game, after playing it a bit it feels like its narrative is inserted very naturally, the personalities of the npc's are very well remembered by the player and a complete representation of the crime process. Refer to its narrative.

Angle of view decision

Ultimately, based on the script, a first-person perspective was chosen for the 3-dimensional presentation, which is more immersive and requires more refined art. The mirror is opposite the clock, the player can see the change of their character and the time behind them through the mirror after the turn. This allows the player to focus on time issues without having to submit additional shots to the clock.

Technology research Bolt

Consider visual programming to improve efficiency. bolt is an officially recognised visual programming plugin for unity that covers common game commands, I found a systematic course on udemy that is 6 hours long and should be mastered in two days.

Demo Environment

I purchased some blender models of huts for a quick transformation into a scene, this will not be the final model used, it is rather rough and not exactly the same style, later it will be changed to the desired style according to the existing models to shorten the production time.

Putting in the character models and entering the code stage

#Practice 1: Developing Skills

[normandarby]

By @loodgack

#Hello neighbor #hello neighbor 2 #Theodore peterson #Meme #Hello neighbor bad blood #Hello neighbor buried secrets #Hello neighbor missing pieces #Hello neighbor waking nightmare #Hello neighbor grave mistakes #Hello neighbor puzzle master

[hello-neighbor-three-aus]

The Hello neighbor timeline in my HN AUs. 👌🏻

Note: This is ONLY for my AUs, not the official Hello neighbor series.

#hello neighbor #hello killer #hello bloodness #hello nightmares #hello neighbor au #hello neighbor aus #secret neighbor #mystery #secret neighbor au #timeline #creator of the three aus speaking #book #books #the secret of bosco bay #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor grave mistakes #hello neighbor puzzle master #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor hide and seek #hello neighbor waking nightmare #hello neighbor buried secrets #hello neighbor reset day #hello neighbor the raven brooks disaster

[askkassandragf-v-2]

I'm trying to guess the timeline of Hello neighbor so far but I could be wrong about this, so here's how I think of the HN timeline.

Again, I could be wrong about this.

AU account: @hello-neighbor-three-aus

#the secret of bosco bay #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor grave mistake #hello neighbor puzzle master #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor hide and seek #hello neighbor waking nightmares #hello neighbor buried secrets #hello neighbor #hello neighbor reset day #hello neighbor 2 #hello neighbor animated series #secret neighbor #timeline #games #books #AskKassandraGF V.2

[cookiebonbon]

Yes! I finally got them! Grave Mistakes will be here soon but I can't wait! >w<

#hello neighbor #hello neighbor book series #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor puzzle master

[privet-sosed]

all HN book covers

#hello neighbor book #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor waking nightmare #hello neighbor buried screts #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor grave mistakes #hello neighbor puzzle master #book #tim heitz

[loodgack]

#hello neighbor #hello guest #hello neighbor 2 #mayak #quentin #smith #man in the hat #sombrero man in the hat #hello neighbor: puzzle master #eet #dynamic pixels #eerie guest studios #tinybuild #horror game #digital art

[neasiie]

welcome to the Golden Apple amusement park!!

(the way I imagine the Rotten Core to look like)

#hello neighbor #hello neighbor hide and seek #hello neighbor 2 #hello neighbor aaron #hello neighbor mya #hello neighbor books #hello neighbor puzzle master #hello neighbor grave mistakes #hello neighbor bad blood #golden apple amusement park #golden apple #raven brooks #hn #hello neighbor art #hello neighbor fanart #fanart #the petersons #aaron peterson #mya peterson #rotten core

[thetistaboveall]

Lawrence-verse: Chip Off The Old Block

Part 1

My next door neighbor Chip is hot mother fucking Dad I Love to Fuck left right and center.

He is a man among men I think to myself as I really dream of enslaving him for life.

Of course a dream is a drama and I have in my wildest imagination thought I could happen.

That is until I grab lap top I specifically alter often for this specific reasoning.

Following a blue prints I have made over the last few years of my life.

I type in a few codes creating a spiral code screen format and I laugh.

My 3-d printer starts to go active glowing in a bright blue hue.

Out rolls a small micro chip lace pills of my own creation.

Chip is a guest at my house dropping it into a drink I shake up and hand to him.

Part 2

He took the glass in hand sipping it a bit at a time letting slip down his throat.

I watch his breathing slowly increase and then lower a greater pace.

His massive muscle built stomach so we’ll tone and defined heaves.

He grows sleepy by the minute as his eyes float open and close.

I have my way finally closing, his head drops down, mind empty and his body sunk.

The glass falls out of his smashing onto the floor and the pieces spread like a puzzle.

“Nano technology at it finest. Wouldn’t you say.” I ask him.

“Right lol like you could answer me now even if you were aware.” I reply to no one in particular.

“Soon enough you will do as I say and it will feel natural and right.” I explain to him in a short whisper.

Part 3

Blowing in his air I get enticing with love of my own excitement.

I kiss the base of his lips making a trail down to his lips.

My cellphone scares the shut out of me with a loud bing.

I laugh a bit reading in text form that all of the processing has been completed.

I press start watching his eyes pop open and he stands up in awe of me.

I clap in a glorious moment of pride that my invention is a splendid success.

“Hello Master Lawrence, how may I serve you?” He ask.

“Give me a kiss Chip.” I command him as he jumps up to his feet.

“As you wish” I hear his voice with love say to me wrapping his arms all over me.

The end

[cloudyskywars]

The Magnus Archives, Season 2

Hello again. I’ve now finished listening to Season 2 of TMA and have lost my mind. @reese-haleth can confirm. After Season 1 I wrote my “statement” regarding my thoughts on the season. I’ve done it again, even though no one asked lol. Listen, I just love this podcast a lot, okay? Enjoy my 2,000 word report on Season 2 of The Magnus Archives. 

Statement below the cut.

Continued statement of CloudySkyWars and her experiences listening to the second season of The Magnus Archives. Statement originally given 28th April, 2021. 

I… don’t really know where to begin. It has now been a full day since I finished Season 2, and I still don’t quite know what to think. So many things were revealed in the season finale, and throughout the season in general. I don’t quite know what to do with all the new information I have now. In rereading my previous statement, I was right to be nervous for Jon. I didn’t think it was possible, but his situation got worse.

Let’s start with an easier- well, not easier- but more approachable topic I suppose? Sasha is gone. I think I’ve known that from the end of last season, when her voice changed abruptly and no one seemed to notice. Her scream as she was eaten, or taken, or whatever it was, was terrible. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected her to come back from something like that. Still, it hurts me to know that she’s truly gone. 

We now know more about the being that took Sasha. I’m still not sure what it is called exactly, but for now I shall refer to it as the Not Being. It has apparently been around for ages; hundreds, possibly thousands of years. As it said itself, it wears the person that it chooses as its victim. It transforms into them, for lack of better word, except it changes its appearance, yet somehow tricks everyone into believing that that is how the person has always appeared. Well, almost everyone. It is odd how there always appear to be one or two people that the being cannot fool. In the case of Graham, it was his neighbor across the street. In the case of Sasha, it was Melanie, the ghost hunter. As Gerturde Robinson said, it is strange that a being that has the power to assume someone’s identity and change pictures and hundreds of people’s memories somehow misses just a few people that remember who the person was at first. I do not know for sure, but perhaps those that it cannot fool are somehow protected by another one of the Beings. 

That’s another difficult topic. The Beings. I don’t know exactly what to call them yet. Jon has slowly been putting the pieces together, and with the statement of the now late Jurgen Leitner, the pieces form an almost complete puzzle. From my understanding, there are 10 Beings so far that we are aware of at this time.

Here is my understanding of the Beings so far. I don’t know how correct any of this is, but I know I still have much to learn.

Being 1: Darkness. The form of darkness incarnate, responsible for the founding of the cult The People’s Church of the Divine Host. It can dim lights, and also affect the water when it is near. The head of the cult in the 1990s was one Maxwell Reiner. 

Being 2: Michael, aka The Spiral. It lies. This Being appears to be a master of deception and trickery, and has no regard to others except to watch them in its tortured games. I will discuss Michael further, but right now we know the appearance it chooses to take at this time: a tall man with curly blonde hair and bulbous, swollen hands. 

Being 3: Meat. I do not know much about this being at this time. It appears to be vicious, and quite literally thirsts for blood and meat. 

Being 4: Fire. Again, my knowledge on this particular being is limited. I believe it to be closely tied to Agnes Montague, and perhaps be an enemy of the Not.

Being 5: Not. As I stated before, this being takes the identity of its victim and warps it, manipulating almost everyone’s minds to forget the original form of the person ever existed. It always seems to miss a few though. Its one weakness seems to be the wooden table that Jon has now destroyed. Jon was under the impression that the Not got its power from the table, but the opposite was true. The table was binding it, and for a bit it seemed as though the Not had almost unlimited power, taunting Jon in the tunnels. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The Not can trick photos and people’s minds, but appears to be unable to alter voice recordings of the victim as long as it is recorded on magnetic tape. This is how Jon realized that Sasha was indeed Not Sasha, as he found the tapes from Season 1 where her voice was recorded. It also seems to be unable to alter polaroid photos.

Being 6: Abyss. We don’t know much about this one yet, either. It takes the form of some abyss or another, whether it be the sky or the deep blue ocean. I am not ashamed to say that this Being is one of the scariest for me.

Being 7: Giant- I feel this is a poor descriptor for this being, but it is the best I can come up with at the moment. It is exactly as it sounds; a giant. So far we have primarily seen it manifest as a giant hand. Perhaps that would be a better name for it. Hand. 

Being 8: Thin- This is, I fear, not an accurate description of this Being. It is described as being tall and thin, with limbs like knives. Not much is known about him at the moment, however we believe that his “brother” of sorts was the werewolf creature from a previous statement. 

Being 9: The End- The Being of death and disease. I strongly suspect that this is the being responsible for Jane Prentiss, as well as John Amehurst, who has shown up multiple times so far in the series. 

Being 10: Eye, aka the Beholder- This Being is in control of The Magnus Institute, and ‘owns’ all those who work there. The Eye watches people, as its name suggests. It also apparently protects those it owns from the other beings, and the protections are strongest in The Institute itself. 

I hope that the Darkness has mostly gone away, for now. Basira claims that Maxwell Reiner, the head of The People’s Church of the Divine Host, is now dead. Hopefully this means that the Darkness will have less influence over this world for the time being. At least until it can find another host.

And that’s another thing. Basira. We were just introduced to the character this season, and already I am very attached to her. It disappoints me that she has left the police force and will no longer be able to help Jon, but I do not believe we have seen the last of her. Her leaving the police opens the door for her to help Jon more in the future, especially now that he is on the run for murder. I will… discuss that more deeply later. Basira’s introduction also caused us to meet Daisy, who I quite like at the moment, but I feel that will change quickly as she is the one investigating Leitner’s murder and will most likely be leading the manhunt for Jon. For the moment though, she is in my good graces. 

Daisy’s first statement talked about her first encounter with a paranormal experience. It dealt with the coffin from the statement of Joshua Gillespe. The moving company, Breekon and Hope, is not gone. I don’t think it ever will be. I do not yet know which Being they are associated with, if any, but they have caused problems in the past and I have cause to believe they will continue to cause problems in the future.

Now for the difficult part: Jon. He is in quite the predicament right now, and I am scared to see what will happen to him. He is on the run for murder, because Elias Bouchard brutally murdered Jurgen Leitner and has now framed Jon for it. Elias had me fooled. I thought he cared about Jon, about all of them. But he is clearly dedicated to the Eye, and anything that threatens the Beholder and what it watches, holds, and owns- Elias will stop at nothing to protect it. I do not know if Elias is a paranormal being himself or is simply an instrument of the Eye. 

I desperately hope that Jon will be alright. I think, (though I could be wrong), that he will reach out to Basira and ask for her help. Season 2 has developed outside characters more so than Season 1, and I believe it is so that Jon has connections that he can reach out to. With Basira leaving the police force, it opens the possibility that he can go to her for help. The same is true with Melanie. She and Jon have something that could almost be considered a friendship, though most of their conversations end in a verbal sparring match or fight. Nonetheless, Melanie was heading to India, and Jon was aware of that. Perhaps he will go to her for assistance, or maybe he will wise up and realize that Martin actually cares about him and ask him for help. We shall see. 

Gerturde Robinson is another character we have learned more about this season. She is hardly the absent minded old woman we were led to believe she was. In the beginning, Jon complained about her lack of organization in the Archives, but now I think there was a reason for it. She put the pieces together, and was murdered for it. She was trying to separate the pieces, to make it safe for whoever took her place, as well as attempting to fool Elias into thinking she didn’t know what was going on. She failed at that, as he discovered her knowledge and murdered her in the tunnels beneath the Archives. It was also revealed that she was working with Jurgen Leitner.

Leitner has been mentioned since the beginning, though we heard from him for the first and last time in the final two episodes of Season 2. Contrary to my assumptions, he was not making his books evil, simply trying to harness the power they already possessed. I am thankful that he saved Jon from the Not Being, as Jon would have surely died had Leitner not interfered. He is very knowledgeable in paranormal matters, and did his best to explain it to Jon. However he was murdered by Elias before he had a chance to explain all he wished to. Leitner claims that the books are the Beings in their purest form, and I am certain we have not seen the last of the books from Leitner’s extensive library. 

Martin and Tim surely think that Jon murdered Leitner. I hope that Martin at least will continue to have faith in Jon, and that he will possibly find the supplemental tapes that Jon had been recording and realize what was actually happening. Only time will tell, though. 

Another Being that we learned more about this season was Michael. He was first introduced to us by Sasha (the real one), back in season 1. At the time, it was portrayed as either a passive or helpful Being, showing Sasha how to kill the worms that came from the thing once known as Jane Prentiss, but this season has proved that not to be the case. Michael has trapped people multiple times, (notably Helen Richardson), and has since shown more aggression than before. It stabbed Jon, who then proceeded to lie about his wound because he didn’t trust his coworkers. To its credit, in the second to last episode of Season 2, Michael helps Jon get a head start from the Not Being after Jon accidentally sets it free. However it then proceeds to trap Martin and Tim in one of its corridor labyrinths for days in some sort of sick game for its enjoyment, and comments that it may also kill them. Luckily it either failed or changed its mind. Time will tell whether or not the Being that calls itself Michael will be more of a friend or foe. 

I suppose that’s it, really. There are surely many things that I have forgotten, but I have done the best I can to document my thoughts and my knowledge of The Magnus Archives at this time. I don’t know all that is going on, I don’t know how things will be resolved. I don’t even know if the mystery will be fully solved. But I desperately hope that things will be explained, that we will receive answers, and that the mystery will be solved. It has to be. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not.

Statement ends. 

#if you read all the way to the end i love you #that was a lot #i just have a lot of thoughts about this podcast #tma #the magnus archives #TMA spoilers #the magnus archives spoilers #TMA season 2 #cloudy listens to TMA #my statement #i just want jon to be HAPPY is that too much to ask #time will tell

[ohvalleyofplentyyy]

Frozen in Time

one-shot | master list

A/N: Hope y’all like it :) my requests are open btw if yall want me to write anything for you.

She stood at the edge of the stone balcony, overlooking the vast forest below here. 

Small streams of smoke rose in the distance from the neighboring town, close enough to see but too far to reach. It was ironic really, all those capable bodies to come free her yet not one dare challenge the witch who kept her captive.

She’s there for a reason, they said.

It must be her destiny, they whispered.

She propped her head up on hands, both elbows balancing on the cold stone that crumbled beneath the very touch. “Maybe it will one day cave in and I’ll fall.” She mumbled to herself.

It was lonely in the castle, the girl hadn’t spoken to anyone since she was seven years old. She often wandered the hallways, speaking to the portraits that weren’t torn in half or eaten away by moths.

She gazed out into the horizon from the only place she could watch freedom pass her by. The witch had cast a spell onto the windows of the castle, blacking them out and making them unbreakable. Sure, there were small windows in various parts to light the rooms and hallways, but this balcony in the tower was the only spot she could feel the wind on her face or see the trees sway below her. Their tallest branches just out of her reach.

Too far to climb down and escape from either…

The girl sighed and got up, her dress protesting as it was too small for her now. The sleeves that used to cover her wrists came to her elbows now and the once floor-length dress now mid-length. It was a faded pink, and the bodice had little bows and embroidered roses along the collar. 

Sometimes she would run her fingers across them and try to remember the people that must have loved her so much to add these details into a little girl’s dress.

As she walked through the hallway, light streaming in from above through tiny planes of glass, each a different symbol, she traced her fingertips on the wall, dipping into each grove and cut in the rock. The first day she was here, the girl had run through the whole castle looking for a secret passageway out, and she never found one.

The girl never ate or drank which was surprising, but she never felt hungry or the need to quench her thirst. Her lips were never chapped and she was always as clean as a person could have been in a magical prison.

She often wondered if the witch that had enchanted the castle, then maybe she had enchanted her as well.

To be a porcelain doll in a glass cabinet, forever, in the house of eternity.

The young captive didn’t know how long she had been here, time seemed to mess with her. Some mornings she would look out the balcony and the trees were a lovely orange, a day would go by and they were baren of leaves and had a small coat of snow covering them.

It couldn’t be the seasons, she thought. Those happen so slowly and this seems to happen in a mere week. Also as peculiar as that, the young maiden swore she sometimes saw for a moment people standing beneath the castle looking up at her.

It must be my imagination…

On one particular night, a strange noise woke her. The girl immediately sat up in bed, and low and behold, an arrow with a note attached to it was embedded into the post of the bed frame.

She snatched the note, full of adrenaline and hope.

It read,

 I cannot free you from outside, you must do it on the inside of the castle. Mark these symbols in the place the outside world can come into the castle. Trace in blood.

The girl ripped the sheets off her and raced to the wooden desk across the room, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled the fake base of it up, revealing a small dagger. She took it out and held it in her hand with the note in the other.

Where does the outside come in?

As she wondered, a gentle breeze passed into the room and she quipped her head to the balcony.

Of course!

In the shine of the moonlight, she put the note in the center of the ground before her and with the dagger, cut a small line across her lower calf. When the blood pooled enough, she dipped her finger into it and drew the symbols in a half-circle like the balcony was shaped.

Then, the symbols started to glow a hazy green.

The girl darted up and grabbed the old cloak she had found in her first year from exploring the old rooms. She pulled out from underneath the bed a pair of old worn riding boots that once upon a time a girl must have used to ride horses here. They fit pretty well, and given that these were the only pair, they would have to do.

In one quick dash, she rounded up all the nick-necks she had collected over the years from the castle. A marble, a sparrows feather, her favorite book from the half-destroyed library the castle housed, the dagger, and a pendant.

She paused for a moment with the pendant.

It had been the only thing in her possession when she had been taken. It wasn’t much to go on, but there was a beautiful family crest that must mean something and could lead her home.

Home…

Her details of home were fuzzy, she didn’t know if it was the magic that effected her loss of memory or just time, but she didn’t have a solid notion of where she came from. Bits and pieces, like the warmth of fire against her skin, the laughter in a large room with music playing in the background, the sound of water being poured to a bathtub.

Shaking her head of the thoughts, she put the necklace around her neck, grabbed the note, and made her way to the front wooden doors which she hoped her opening at this very moment. She practice jumped down the spiraling staircase and bolted to the entryway.

But when she got there, nothing had changed.

The second she realized this, the girl dropped to the ground on her knees, shaking with a sob stuck in her throat. It was as if fate was playing a cruel joke on her. She took a breath and started walking back to her room, through the hallway of moonlight.

That's when she gasped.

The symbols in the glass panels all shine into a line on the stone floor, but they all looked incomplete in the moonlight somehow.

Every time she had come this way in the daytime, the sun had been at an angle that kept the shadows from falling into this position.

The only reason she hadn’t realized this sooner is that this hallway had always been too cold for her to want to come through at night and too painful to see the door that could have been her escape out.

The wooden doors had these beautiful bolts that always puzzled her the few times she had looked at them. They had no keyhole and seemed to be melted into the doors. After trying and failed to pry them off the doors, the girl had decided that trying something else may be more beneficial and with that, she never thought of them again.

She moved with quick haste to the first light marking and took the blood that was still condensing around the wound. The girl looked back and forth at the note and symbol, then connected the two where it seemed to need an extra piece.

They fit together perfectly.

The symbol started to glow green like before, but this time it changed and turned purple.

A lock popped on the door. Her eyes widened as she watched from the hallway as the top lock disintegrated.

She quickly got to work on all the others, sometimes having to rub away the blood and start again, but the end result always ended with a pop! and dust crumbling to the floor. On the last symbol she paused, this would be the moment she’d be free and to be quite honest, it scared her.

I haven’t been outside these walls for so long. How will I adapt to the world I only grew up watching from a window?

The girl looked down at the pendant and smiled.

Someone once loved me outside these walls, and if I can find that sort of love again, I’ll be fine.

With a shaky swallow, she traced the last symbol.

Instantly, the lock popped and then the doors started to glow a vibrant yellow from the seams and then dissipate. She walked over and pulled the handle.

It opened.

When she stepped out onto the soil, she couldn’t believe it.

Trees are so big.

The ground is so soft.

The young girl turned to look back at the castle and with one final glance, closed the door and stepped away from the entrance. The castle crumbled upon itself as she did that, and all that was left were ruins.

“Shh!”

Hm?

The girl turned to see where the noise came from and then remembered.

The note!

“Hello?” She called out, suddenly, the rustling came to an end and two men came out from behind a large tree. One, visibly shorter and with a bit more spunk in his step, had a vivacious blue tunic on and a lute strapped to his back. The other man was huge and remind her of the giants she read about in the fairytales she found in the library years ago. He had white hair that resembled moonlight and these extraordinary amber eyes that made her curious beyond measure. He was also holding a bow.

She walked toward them, “Are you the one that sent the message?” She asked, holding up the note. “Yes, took you quite a while to get it.” The gruff man said. She scrunched her eyebrows together, “What do you mean, this flew into my room only an hour ago.”

The what she presumed was a musician, came out from behind his rather beefy friend. “What do you mean an hour ago?! We sent that 2 and a half days ago into the castle.”

The young woman took a step back, “What…” The white-haired man’s eyes zeroed in on the pendant that had caught the moon’s rays with her movement.

Then his face drained of what little color was in it.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointed to her necklace.

“It’s my family crest I believe. Do you know the story of how I got here? A witch I believe kidnapped me and imprisoned me here, this was the only thing I had with me.”

The man then put his hand up to his forehead, “Fuck.” The bard, sensing his friend's concern, stepped forward. “What’s your name? I’m Jaskier, and he’s Geralt.”

The girl thought for a moment, “It’s um, Y/N I think.”

Geralt and Jaskier made eye contact with surprised looks on their faces. “What? What is it? Why does it matter?” “Because, Y/N, your kind— or family, died out over 667 years ago.”

“That’s not possible! I—, I—… I was going to find my family.”

Y/N crumbled to the ground, tears welling in her eyes.  “What am I suppose to do now?” She looked down at the ground. The two boys looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

“You could come with us.”

Her head shot up, “Huh?” Jaskier watched forward hesitantly and crouched to her level. “Well, it’s not the most conventional plan but after we get you caught up with the few last hundred years and maybe some clothes that fit, you’d be a good travel companion.” He turned back to Geralt, “What do you think?” “Her family line was known for their immortality and special abilities, it could be useful in the future.”

She stood up at the mention of her family, “You know my history?” He nodded, “It’s folklore, but in a pinch, yes. We can probably find some books on it, though they’ll be very rare.”

Y/N smiled and took Jaskier’s hand, pulling him up. “This isn’t what I was looking for, but I’m thinking it’s a good alternative. Thank you.”

The three started walking away from the castle crumble that some of the townsfolk may have heard so it would be best to not be in the area at the moment. “So you know you’re a fairytale too right?” Jaskier said as you stepped over a large branch. “I’m what?”

“Yeah, you’re the Princess of the Time Capsule Castle, people throughout history have come to take a glance of the castle in hopes of seeing the girl frozen in time. They say that during some days, you could see a girl looking out from the balcony frozen in a specific position on the stone ledge.”

She laughed, “Are you serious?” “Yeah, I used to hear stories about you when I was little.”

The girl smiled.

This wasn’t the love I was hoping to find, but I’m glad it’s the one I found.

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[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹tickle war➹(miles morales x reader)

Requested by @ponyboys-sunsets ➝ GIVE ME ANYTHING WITH MILES PLEASE GOOD LORD I LOVE HIM literally just y/n and him being super h*ckin cute! like cuddling and we get in like a tickle fight or something and it’s just so cute! 

Did you really have a good cuddling session if it doesn’t turn into a tickle fight?

word count: 3.1k

a/n: oof, i had some terrible writer’s block so finishing this was the most fulfilling thing ever omg. hello @ whoever’s reading this! i’m sorry this request took so long, i really need to learn how to write faster lol, but it’s here and it’s short but cute and i love it. i didn’t really edit it tho so if there are any mistakes i’m sorry. i forgot to say this last post but holy shit thank you so much for over 150 followers! and 620 notes on my first peter b. story (working on part 2 btw wink)??? the heck?? that’s nuts, i hope every single one of you enjoy what i write (: request are open if anyone is interested, especially since valentines day is so soon, so feel free to send something if you want! also i’ve decided that mcdonald’s in miles’ universe is called mcdonnie’s bc why not lmao

You could be too messy sometimes. Things to add to your next year resolutions (you were also too lazy to start right now— again, one more addition to the list): for the love of future you, stop throwing stuff wherever just because you don’t have the energy or will to properly place it in its appropriate spot. If only you’d worked on that flaw earlier, for right now you had your toothbrush inside your mouth— your tongue crying out from the icy pinch of the mint— frantically rummaging through your room, seeking for your favorite jacket. The weather that night didn’t necessarily call for the use of a coat, and it’s not that you were the fashionista of the generation (you tried your best… most of the time), but it was the last detail your outfit needed for it to be impeccable, and of course you’d turn your room upside down just to find it. It wasn’t as disastrous— perhaps for future you, yeah— but at least you got ahold of those pants that had been missing for weeks which sweetly hugged your figure in all the right places, along with a two-year-old calculator (hey, no more asking your classmates for an extra one) that’d do wonders for your brain during math class.

In the midst of your hunt, a clatter outside caught your attention. No big deal; you did live in New York, after all— the complete opposite of a ghost town. However, you later realized it wasn’t outside. No, it was your window. It happened again— clink! You recoiled, a small yelp escaping your throat. When it continued, you contemplated running away and calling your parents, frightened like a small child who suspects there’s a monster under their bed; but the detective in you (and stupidity, since this is exactly how people die in horror movies) drove you to investigate. You opened the curtains with a determined attitude, your expression hard and stern, but that temporary bravery fled out of your body the instant you laid your eyes upon the dark faceless figure staring back at you. You screamed— or tried to, taking in mind the toothpaste— scrambling to grab the nearest object to attack. But your vision adjusted once the light from your bedroom illuminated the intruder, and your rushing heartbeat eased with the laughing face of your boyfriend.

You rolled up your window, a distressed crease between your eyebrows. “Mwolth, whot thwo fwock!” You exclaimed through the abundance of toothpaste, tilting your head back to stop it from leaking through the sides of your mouth. Miles’ snickers, although adorable, heated your cheeks further from the humiliation.

“Sorry! I didn’t think it’d scare you that much.”

“Y—” You began, but raised a finger, telling him to wait, and ran to the bathroom. After spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth and sink in the record time of six seconds, you barged back into your room and to your open window. He was nowhere to be seen, until you looked out in search of the boy and your vision shifted below you: he sat against the brick wall, his knees close to his chest. You sighed, rubbing your eye as you chuckled at him. “You’re one hell of a boy.”

He showed you a crooked grin. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good. Why didn’t you just, uh, I don’t know— knock on my door like a normal person?”

“Well, ‘cause I’m not like other guys,” He joked, his voice husky and mysterious, a smolder adorning his face. You closed your eyes as you laughed and he shrugged. “I just wanted to be a romantic boyfriend, y’know, and throw rocks at your window!”

You let out a dreamy sigh, fanning yourself. “So romantic, giving me a heart attack.”

“What can I say? I’m the master of romance.”

“Alright, master of romance, get in before one of my neighbors sees you and faints.” You waved your hand before walking away, continuing to ransack your dresser. Miles climbed the rest of the wall and up to the opening casually with his hands inside his pockets, as if it were the most common ability a teenager could ever have. He gasped when he entered and took in the chaos your room had become: the floor cluttered with crumpled schoolwork and socks (why did you have so many socks?), a mountain of pajamas on your bed, and the mess only incremented as you tossed and additional shirt on your desk.

“What the hell happened here?” He frowned, stuck where he stood due to the path full of obstacles. You cursed under your breath and slammed the cabinet closed, moving on to the last one.

“I can’t find my jacket,” You grumbled, your scowl exchanged by a puzzled stare as a shirt you wore when you were eight dangled in front of you. “God, I really need to take out a lot of stuff.”

Miles jumped from each clean spot to another, pausing when he noticed an old broken Spider-Man keychain tangled with a wool friendship bracelet. He carefully grasped it with his fingers, his mouth twitching. “I’m not surprised.”

You glanced back at him, your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

His face twisted at your question as he laughed. “Y/N, I love you, but you can really be the messiest person at times. Like, look!” He jangled the keychain and your eyes lit up, your hand reaching out to take it. “This thing is from like seven years ago— I got it from McDonnie’s, too. I bet you ‘accidentally’ misplaced it and it just disappeared.”

“Dude! I was so sad when I lost this keychain, I blamed this kid in my class and said that he stole it. Apparently he didn’t,” You mumbled sheepishly, and then hissed when you saw the purple and black bracelet wrapped around the metal ring. “I used to be friends with this girl and she gave me this bracelet.”

“What happened to her?”

“Our friendship ended when I accidentally dropped her hamster down the stairs.”

His eyes widened in horror, but moments later he was wheezing as he sat down on your bed. “Damn, Y/N.”

“Look, I felt terrible afterwards. I just wanted to see it roll in the plastic ball thingy,” You grimaced, apologizing in your head to the spirit of the unfortunate creature you accidentally murdered. Before you started crying, though, the irritation bubbled up in your chest and you rubbed your temples. “I still can’t find my jacket!”

“I can give you my jacket, i-if you want.” Miles offered shyly, flustered and ready to slip off his coat.

He paused when you rested your hand on his shoulder, which later came up to playfully poke his cheek. “What a cutie. But I don’t want you to freeze to death, not exactly the date that I was plan—” You stepped on something and you peeped down. You cried out for the exact article of clothing you just wasted ten minutes searching for peeked out from under your bed. “Oh, found it!” You gasped, lifting the jacket, hugging it as if you’d just found your long-lost child after sixteen years. You slipped your arm inside one sleeve, your other hand simultaneously tugging Miles’ while you prepared to leave your room.

“Shouldn’t we clean this up before we leave?” He gestured to your surroundings. You scanned the disorder, biting your lip as you deeply considered it, your skin itching because of the area identical to a wreckage.

You dismissed your discomfort with a whine, pulling his wrist again and dragging him through the mess and out of the room with you. “I can do that later, let’s go!”

You didn’t exactly know where you were going; so when you jumped off your apartment complex’s stairs and into the sidewalk, you turned around and stared at Miles like an expectant puppy willing to follow its owner to the end of the world. “Where to, captain?” You cheerily asked.

“You’re weirdly hyper today.” Miles pointed out, but not as a complaint— no, not at all. Your euphoria was responsible for his stretching smile and the electricity in his fingertips; it enhanced your beauty to a degree that it was blinding, a supergiant star whose radiance fondly enveloped the boy and heated up his entire body with its dripping gold. It was a heat wave he’d willingly succumb to— he’d float in your grace, suffocate with your allure, feel it all over as you happily linked your arms together, sending that spark running through his veins.

“I guess it’s just the rush you get on a Friday night, you know?” Yes, that was definitely it— it’s not like you took a power nap you woke up from twenty minutes ago, and consequently, had to inhumanly speed through your steps to get ready before Miles arrived; what are you talking about? But it also was almost impossible not to be as joyous when you’d missed Miles’ presence for an entire week. Yes, phone and video calls patched up that loneliness and longing, but it was just a bandaid for a larger wound— you didn’t know you could be so needy; a surprise, indeed, when you’d find yourself craving to jump through your cell phone’s screen and snuggle into the boy’s embrace. “I’m also really glad to see you, though.” You bashfully admitted.

“It was just a week.” He laughed, except that he’d missed your touch just as much, if not more. And you weren’t offended that he didn’t kiss your forehead and reveal he did as well, really, because you knew the truth by the way he walked so unnecessarily close to you in spite of the broad path.

You snuggled your head on his shoulder, sighing in bliss. “I don’t care, you still owe me a lot of cuddles. And I also don’t have no idea where you’re taking me— maybe you’re about to kill me, or something.” You said lowly, your eyes wide.

“It’s… kinda a desolate place, but I promise I didn’t pick it so I could kill you.” He giggled, bumping his shoulder into yours. You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him, scoffing.

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say.”

Gladly, your claims that Miles was planning to execute you in the middle of nowhere were nothing but an amusing belief; that surely would’ve been a lamentable twist, especially for you. However, you somewhat started to wish it had been your fate as you panted heavily and dropped on your knees on the muddy grass of the seemingly endless hill you and Miles were climbing. “I give up,” You breathed out, sprawling your limbs defeatedly. “I think I’m gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

Miles glanced back at you and rolled his eyes before resuming his strides. “God, your P.E grade is probably terrible.” You didn’t reply, though, and he didn’t hear any exaggerated struggling noises. He turned around, his gaze settling on your body which appeared dead resting in the same place you stopped. “C’mon, babe, we’re almost there!”

You didn’t budge, solely weakly waving your hand at him. “I was nice knowing you, but I think this is where I meet my demise.”

He looked heavenward, taking a deep breathe to recharge his soul. You were damning the gloomy clouds for obscuring the glimmering stars when Miles’ face, staring down at you, popped into your sight. You smiled, your hand reaching up to try and touch his cheek as you cracked up. “Hi.” You said innocently with a childlike expression.

The corner of his mouth lifted upwards. “Hi. Get up.”

“It’s really comfy down here.”

“I bet, probably better than the hammock that’s up the hill.” He smirked when he attracted your attention.

“A hammock? You got a hammock up there?” You inquired in disbelief. His grin vanished, and his voice was high pitched as he dubiously shrugged.

“Kind… of? It’s not your usual hammock you’re probably thinking about.” He gently nudged you with his foot and you complained, turning to lie on your side. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

The words ‘piggyback ride’ excited you too much, almost to the point that it could be used as a weakness against you as you scrambled to your feet and moments later leapt onto Miles’ back. You were lucky your boyfriend had super strength, you thought, especially for instances where your laziness and lack of durability got the best of you while walking up the steepest of hills you’d ever witnessed. You’d endure your short workout again or climb every mountain, though, if it meant you’d get to curl up against Miles on a hammock made out of his webs; your body resting on top of his, your legs tangled like an unbreakable knot, your mind fuzzy from the loving circles the boy caressed on your scalp while your thumb rubbed his shoulder. It was the type of intimacy no other could compare to— just the two of you, immersed and drenched with the eternal adoration you shared. The security and serenity of his embrace overwhelmed you enough that at any time the breeze would slightly swing the crib, you’d flinch, similar to when you jerk awake after almost dozing off. His chest vibrated with his giggles and you gazed up at him. The boy had been boring into you for the past few minutes; it wasn’t necessary to see it, you could just feel it (how could you not, after all, considering your close bodies?).

“This hammock kinda sucks.” You breathed out, feeling his arms squeeze your waist when the hammock wiggled harder.

“How can you say that?! It’s literally made out of webs.”

“Miles, it’s so small— I feel like if I even breathe too much I’m going to fall off.”

“So ungrateful, man.” He grumbled, shaking his head with a half-smile that stretched wider after you left a tender kiss on his jaw.

“I just don’t want to break a bone, you get me?” You sighed in relief when the wind, your current nemesis, calmed down. “That would kinda suck.”

“It would be funny.”

You poked his stomach and he squeaked like a stuffed animal who had a tag that read ‘try me!’. He grabbed your wrist, pouting down at you. “Take that back or you’ll be the one with a broken bone.” You warned, but Miles returned the jab, and your body jerked away from him as much as it could.

“If I fall, just know that you’re going down with me.” He raised a playful eyebrow. You tried to prod him again, but the boy didn’t allow you to get your hand near him by slapping it, poking your rib immediately after. You let out a malicious laugh, for he had no idea what was coming to him as you went in to tickle him for real this time. It wasn’t as easy, though; Miles put up quite the fight, one arm shielding his stomach while the other pushed your evil hands away. “You’re… entering… a dangerous… zone right now—” His sentence was repeatedly interrupted as you two fought a battle which would only result in falling to your deaths. Although he could only protect himself for so long, because in the brief millisecond he remained unguarded, your fingers found themselves attacking his abdomen. You straddled his waist as he screamed with laughter and writhed underneath you, kicking his feet all over the place.

“Y/N—“ He yelped, his eyes crinkled and glossy. “P-please!”

You stopped— you were no ruthless demon who tortured people with tickles; still, your shoulders bounced up and down at the sight of his wide eyes as he attempted to catch his breath and regain his strength. “I won!” You laughed, squishing his cheeks to taunt him, leaning down closer to his face with a smug smile. “Sorry.”

“I’ll only forgive you if you give me a kiss.” The seduction and cheekiness laced in both his voice and eyes were a good try, but it simply made you snicker more at how goofy the boy appeared. It did work in some way, though, because it fueled the desire to meet his lips further. Who were you to not comply to such yearning, anyway? Miles took ahold of your hands, intertwining your fingers, leaning up to catch your expecting mouth. You rested your hand on his chest to deepen the kiss, the swaying of the hammock a long-forgotten worry as all you could care about was the boy under you, his dainty and nervous fingertips lingering on your hip, the prickling that engulfed you when you felt his hammering heartbeat under your touch. He’d captivated you entirely, beckoning you to dive into a pool of his warmth that clouded all your senses; enough that you didn’t perceive his hands sneaking up your sides until—

You squealed into his mouth, a jolt running through your gut when he began to tickle you. You pulled away from the kiss and struggled to breathe as a fit of giggles left you, feebly pushing him away. In an attempt to move away, though, you leaned too much to your right— oh, shit was all you thought as you lost your balance. A short cry was the only sound you made as you began to plummet down to the grass. Your last moments were nice, you guessed; at least you got to make out with Miles for a while before dying, so perhaps you could accept your death peacefully. But you didn’t hit the ground. You breathed heavily and opened your eyes, the world upside down until you strained your neck to look up at the sky; you hung by your foot, which had entangled itself with the white string of the hammock, and your eyes drifted to Miles’ gigantic eyes.

“Holy shit!” You shouted, your body going limp when it became too tiring to continue staring up. “Holy shit! I almost fucking died!”

“Are you okay?!” Miles questioned, panicked. You heard a thump and soon your boyfriend stood in front of you, his hands on his head. When he saw you helplessly flailing your arms, however, he doubled over with laughter, slapping his knee.

“Miles! Please help me!”

“Okay, okay— uh, do you have like a knife, or something?”

“Why the hell would I have a knife?!”

“I-I don’t know! Self-defense, maybe. Let me see—” He dug through his pockets, and your (already red) face went pale when he took out his keys, flashing you a sympathetic tight-lipped smile.

It was going to be a long night.

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #sm:itsv #spider man into the spider verse #imagine #miles morales one shot #gender neutral #fem! reader #male!reader #spider man

[queen-writing-sideblog]

Coffee and Cigarettes

Chapter One

This is the little surprise I was talking about, first chapter of my first fic!! Thank you to all of you so, so, so much for 100 followers (I know I’m a bit late, but it took me a minute to finish, so.. shhhh), but thank you all so, so much for sticking along for all of this. I know I haven’t been updating as much recently, but now that this is finished, I’ll be a lot better about it, I promise, I hope you enjoy!!!!!

Staff dating wasn’t against the rules. It was… slightly frowned upon by some of the board members, but it wasn’t against the rules. That hadn’t been an issue for Roger for the three years he had been working there, so he hadn’t thought anything was going to change when the school hired a replacement for the teacher that had taught engineering and wood shop.

Boy had he been wrong.

They wouldn’t normally cross paths. While their classrooms were in similar parts of the building, teachers didn’t tend to wander around the school because, obviously, they were working. That wasn’t how they ended up meeting, though.

No, the very first time Roger met Mr. Deacon was in the break room when he turned around too fast and accidentally hit him with a muffin and almost spilled coffee on him.

What a fantastic, completely Rogeresque way to meet someone.

To his defense, it was before seven o’clock in the morning, nearly an hour before school was due to start, and he’d been up late the night before, grading the last minute summer work that had been submitted to him minutes before the deadline.

Stupid slackers.

Then again, that had been him when he was in high school, so he didn’t really have much room to talk.

And regardless of how little sleep he’d gotten, there he was, bright an early. For all the work and extra hours teachers put in, they didn’t get paid nearly enough, so he in the mornings, his breakfast off of the coffee and assorted, slightly stale breakfast items that resided there.

His slightly stale breakfast item that was now a shower of crumbs coating the shirt of a complete stranger.

“Oh! Oh, I am so sorry, mate, really, I-”

“Oh, no, no, you’re alright. It’s early. Looks like you haven’t had a sip of coffee yet either, so I’ll let it slide this time around.”

As soon as the air around them lightened up a bit and he let himself relax, it struck him how… easy on the eyes this stranger was.

“Ah, right, right, I’ll take my free pass and be more careful next time. I’m Roger Taylor, by the way. I teach biology. Room 137.”

“Oh, alright, hello, Mr. Taylor. I’m John Deacon, I teach engineering and woodshop and… I’m in room…” he dug a piece of paper out of his pocket, “room number 146.”

“Ah, so you’re the new guy that’s replacing old Bernes.”

“Would appear so.”

“Well, I already like you better. He was a creep.”

“Was he, now? Well, I might be a bit biased in saying this, but I don’t believe I’m much of a creep, so I do hope that helps.” He offered a gap toothed smile and Roger felt something unfamiliar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. 

“Well, you’re already much, much, much better than he is.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They stood there for a moment in silence, sipping their coffee before one of them spoke again.

“So. Where’d you come from. Somewhere… North, I’m thinking?”

“Wow, look at you. Yeah. Up in the midlands, Oadby, actually.”

“Really? And how’s that? Living there, I mean.”

“Dull. Very dull. Very boring. Not a lot of stuff going on up there. I wouldn’t recommend visiting. There isn’t much to do, the people are too nice to not be hiding anything, and most of the hotels have rats.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m going on holiday, ‘cuz that’s something teachers do so often.”

The comment earned him a little laugh and another one of those smiles, and something so simple shouldn’t have made him as happy as it was.

He was man enough to admit that he pretty things, attractive people. He was also man enough to admit that John happened to fall under this column. Which meant he was able to convince himself it was the mild adrenaline rush that came from making an attractive person laugh.

Like when he picked up women -or men, he wasn’t really picky- at bars and made them smile and laugh and blush.

Except for the fact that this was his new coworker, they were in a teacher’s lounge in a high school, and he didn’t have the intention of going home with him. Because that would be entirely unprofessional and he didn’t want to do it either.

Alright, maybe if the setting was different, he might. But that meant alcohol would be involved, as well as a location that was much more likely to foster raw, sexual attraction.

Seven in the morning in a break room in a high school packed with other teachers, crappy coffee, and assorted bread products was neither the time nor the place.

And it seemed that it wasn’t going to be much of an issue, just a passing thought.

Which it was.

For now at least.

--

Over the course of the following weeks, Roger found himself and John becoming more and more friendly. He’d begun to worm his way into his little friend group, clicking almost instantly with Freddie, and bonding over some science geek stuff with Brian. He fit in like the fourth piece to their puzzle.

It was nice, meeting someone who he worked with that was good for more than discussion on the woes of being a teacher.

Sure, he’d had Brian and Freddie before, but it was nice to have a third friend, and to no longer be the ‘baby’ of the group.

(Normally whenever it was brought up, he was quickly mention the fact that he was twenty-six years old now, but it was quickly dismissed in favor of making fun of him.)

And John, he had come to find, was actually a rather interesting person. He loved music, but he didn’t think he could sing, so he stuck to the instruments. Specifically the stringed sort. He apparently had a bass, an electric, an acoustic, and a rhythm guitar at home, as well as a keyboard. That he offered lessons to bring in some extra money and because it was something he enjoyed doing. That music was a passion of his, and he’d been into it since he was younger, fell in love with the records his father would bring home every once in a blue moon and found that that aspect of his story was similar to Roger’s.

He’d learned that he’d been a tinkerer ever since he could hold a screw driver. Making magic out of scraps by age ten, which could have been a profession on it’s own, but he’d fallen in love with teaching and had gotten his masters in that after getting his bachelor of science in electronics. That he was still a tinkerer and he would buy bits and pieces of this and that when his budget allowed to make little things and that he had never once called a repairman because he’d always been able to fix the issue himself. How he would fix neighbors broken down appliances for free just because he wanted to. He’d even offered to come look at Roger’s busted air conditioning unit sometime.

That he had a sister named Julie, that she was seventeen and was preparing for her A levels, that she was very bright and that he was a very proud big brother. That he was a mama’s boy, spoke to her every other day on the phone. That when he was growing up, he’d taken over the typical ‘man of the house’ role since his father passed when he was young, that he didn’t get all sad and weepy when talking about his dad, just got a nostalgic, fond look in his eyes. That he’d just gotten a puppy named Eleanor and a ferret named Robert. An odd combination, Roger thought, but who was he to judge when all he had were a few fish.

Needless to say, he’d learned a lot about him in the short span of time they’d known each other in and he found him to be rather intriguing.

They’d slowly become the sort of teachers that bothered each other during prep periods. John would come bug him when he was doing notes and Roger would throw popcorn at him when he was trying to teach. It was nice, he thought.

--

Roger had finally given in to John’s offers and invited him over to have a look at the air conditioner. It was much cheaper than calling an electrician and John had insisted he didn’t mind, so he’d decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with keeping all his windows open and using a fan in its place. He was becoming a baked potato in his own home.

When John had gotten there, they’d exchanged pleasantries before Roger had led him to the source of irritation and he’d gone straight to work.

The conversation kept up while John.. well, Roger wasn’t quite sure what it was he was doing, actually, but.. That was besides the point. He was fixing the stupid AC unit for him and now Roger wouldn’t die of heatstroke or something stupid like that. 

He’d take a break every once in a while to have a drink and wipe the sweat off his forehead before diving back into his work. It was a nice almost silence they lapsed into, with an occasional joke, or comment, or John asking Roger to grab him a drink if he wouldn’t mind. It was certainly much better than the awkward work around that would be involved with a repairman and not nearly as expensive either.

It took a little while, but eventually Roger heard the familiar whir of the air conditioning unit kicking on.

“You’re a miracle worker, Deaks!”

“Ah, nah… just a fan that fell loose and some mixed up wires, is all. Nothing, really.”

“I could kiss you.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Think I’ll pass.”

“How can I repay you?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well.. I can at least buy you dinner.”

“Well…”

“I’ll get takeaway and you and I can watch a movie.”

“Yeah. alright. Fine.”

“What catches your fancy tonight, Sir Deacon?”

“Sir?” He cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Just go with it.”

“Alright, well.. How does Chinese sound?”

“His highness shall be dining on the finest Asian cuisine tonight.”

“The finest, huh?”

“Or the cheapest.”

“Perfect.”

Roger ended up calling in to order the takeout and decided to let John find something for them to watch. He was mildly surprised when he plopped down on the couch and the TV was playing the opening credits to Peter Pan.

“A Disney man, huh?”

“Shut up. They’re good movies, believe it or not.”

“Okay, okay, okay, I won’t make fun of you. It just… you don’t seem the type.”

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

“Touché.”

“I am not often what meets the eye.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” 

“Good.”

--

John ended up staying much later than Roger had thought he would. By the time he checked the clock, it was already half past ten. He opted not to say anything about it, though, because he did rather like John’s company. He had a good sense of humor and he liked to point out the flaws of and make fun of poorly made movies which Roger had discovered when they’d come across some old movie that seemed like it had a budget of forty dollars.

By now, though, they’d lulled into a comfortable silence like it had been before, only interjected by an occasional joke or comment.

By the time they got to the end of that movie, it was even later. Obviously. Because that’s how the flow of time worked. But it was late enough that Roger was tired, and by the looks of it, so was his company.

“I should get going.” He stretched his arms above his head. “Work tomorrow and all.”

“Stay.”

“Are you sure that’s-”

“I mean, here. Like… on the couch. It’s late, you’re tired, you shouldn’t be driving. We can carpool tomorrow.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“You can borrow something of mine.”

“I don’t have a toothbrush or anything. I don’t think I’ll be borrowing that from you.”

“I’ve got an extra in the cupboard.”

John gave him a skeptical look and for a minute Roger was worried he was going to say no.

“Yeah, alright, fine.”

“Great. I’ll grab you a pillow, the blankets are next to the couch.” He gestured in the general direction they were in before going off to get a pillow from his bed.

John was doing something on his phone when he got back, presumably texting his neighbor, asking her to keep the dog overnight, something he’d heard him mumbling to himself about when he was walking away. 

“Oi. Watch that,” He grumbled, setting the pillow down at the edge of the bed.

“I remind you that you are a guest here and I can kick you out at any moment.”

“Fine.” He plopped down on the couch, tugging the blanket over himself and folding up his knees to fit onto the couch.

“Goodnight, Mr. Deacon.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Taylor.”

--

When Roger got up at three in the morning to get a glass of water, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the body draped across his couch before remembering it was just John. As he was pouring his glass of water, he took note that when John wasn’t all curled into a ball, he was much too tall for the couch. Part of his legs hung over the edge of the couch, all the way up to his knees, and an arm was dangling over the side of the couch and he’d miraculously knocked the blanket off and into the middle of the room.

Without much thought, he bent down to scoop the blanket up and draped it over John, who made a soft, sleepy noise in response.

The… domestic nature of it all made something warm and fuzzy climb up his rib cage and wrap around his heart which startled him more than the thought of a stranger in his flat. He pushed them down quickly, going back to bed and leaving the untouched glass of water on the coffee table where he’d set it down earlier.

--

The next morning, Roger learned that you got places much faster when you used the carpool lane, and that John fancied cars nearly as much as he did,complaining about some of nicer cars that weren’t taken care of well as they took turns naming models and makes of the cars on the road.

(Which I will not be doing because while I am all for researching for things, I do not understand much about cars at all, and… yeah. No thank you. Sorry).

When they got to school together, Brian happened to be coming into the building as well, offering a raised eyebrow in regards to the fact that they’d obviously come to school together and the shirt John was wearing was one Roger had been wearing on Friday.

When they got into the break room, John went to get coffee and Brian cornered him.

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s wearing your clothes, Rog, and you carpooled.”

“I did not sleep with him. He came over to fix my air conditioner, stayed over too late and I let him sleep on the couch.”

“That’s all?”

“Jesus, Bri. I’m not stupid, that would be a bad idea, even I know that.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

When John got back, he couldn’t help but think he certainly wouldn’t have minded if that happened.

And, yeah. Maybe he was a bit screwed.