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telyscope · 1 year

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neteyam and lo’ak when human!readers mask breaks when they’re with them

okay so this was originally an anon req but i accidentally deleted the ask i am so sorry anon. BUUUT LUCKILY i was able to remember the request. if i remembered incorrectly, or if you wanted headcanons instead of whatever this is (idk what to call it) then please send me another req! if it also just wasn’t what you had in mind, i’ll be more than happy to rewrite it for you!

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pandora is a place made to inhabit 8 foot tall creatures. every form of life on pandora is stronger, bigger, and a threat to humans. even the air.

neteyam

“watch your step. we wouldn’t want you plummeting to your death now would we”

“very funny.” you throw a glare at neteyam, clearly not amused by his joke because you’re afraid that may actually end up becoming your reality

neteyam had decided to show you around the forest. well, the parts of the forest you haven’t yet seen. you’ve been around the omatikaya people for years now so you’re quite familiar with the forest, but you’ve never gone in the tops of trees or climbed mountains tops. i mean, you’re a human after all, the amount of dangers you could’ve faced if you’d tried are endless

sooo neteyam offered to finally show you the places you’ve always dreamed to see. you felt safe with neteyam, he knew how to fight and he could fight well. you knew he’d protect you the entire time, so you agreed

you two were hopping along the tree tops, bouncing through the huge leaves provided by the trees. it was nothing like you’ve ever seen before. you had the best view from here. it was so beautiful.

you were in such awe, adrenaline was rushing through you. you were too busy admiring the view that you seemed to have forgotten that the only thing keeping you up right now was a leaf. you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking, your mind occupied by the view. in fact you forget you were walking at all. you were just mindlessly taking steps. alas, you stepped on the tip of the leaf. it couldn’t hold you up.

a scream of your name. that’s all you heard. it was neteyams. a branch had broke your fall. you had landed on your stomach, so there was no severe pain but you were sure it would leave a nasty bruise. the branch wasn’t too far down, just slightly below the leaf, so you thought you were fine. you were too careless and fell, but you were fine.

until you felt a breeze on your face. you didn’t even need to feel your face to know that your mask broke. it seems a smaller branch had cracked your mask and the impact of the fall shattered it.

neteyam hurried down, jumping down from leaf to leaf to get to you as quick as possible. his typical calm character was gone, he was terrified.

you didn’t acknowledge him. you froze. you couldn’t move, or speak, you were just frozen. your mask was broken, and you guys were nowhere near the lab, there was not a single chance in hell you would be able to last long enough without breathing until you reached the lab.

neteyam pulled you up off your stomach and layed you in his lap. “hey focus on me alright? please, just try to stay awake for as long as you can, please.” he swoops you up and starts going down the tree. “ i promise i’ll get you to somewhere safe.”

you could hear the worry in his voice. but even so, he pursues his promise without hesitation.

—

god, your head was pounding. you sit up to find yourself in the lab with neteyam nervously pacing back and forth around you. “i passed out, didn’t i”

he shoots his head toward you with a huge sigh of relief to finally hear your voice. “i tried to get you here as quick as i could, but you could only hold your breath for so long, im sorry. how are you feeling?”

“hey, at least i’m not dead,” you shrug. “but honestly, this is all your fault. if you hadn’t made that awful joke about me falling i would’ve never fell. so, thanks for that, teyeam.” you give him a teasing smirk and he playfully whips his tail at your arm

“this is not the time to be joking, you could’ve seriously gotten hurt you know,” he walks over to you and kneels down to your level. “im sorry. im glad you’re okay. i promise to keep you safe from now on.” he places a kiss on your forehead and tucks a piece of your hair around your ear. you smile to yourself, relieved that you’re okay and so grateful to have someone like neteyam.

lo’ak

you and lo’ak were always sneaking out around the forest and doing things you probably shouldn’t

no matter how many times you two go out and about on some sort of adventure, you’ll never stop being so clumsy

i mean really it’s unbelievable. you’d think that somebody would learn to not be so careless after doing something so many times. but you, oh you just seemed to get clumsier every damn time

nothing too bad has ever happened though, you usually just end up with some scratches from walking into branches or bruises here and there from tripping over your own feet

that’s all it ever was. a funny little incident that leaves you and lo’ak both laughing at how reckless you are

this time wasn’t the same though.

you and lo’ak were running along a big branch that was connecting two trees. you’ve crossed this branch several times with ease, but this time there was a particular dip in the branch that you hadn’t noticed

“cmon hurry up, i know you can go faster than that” lo’ak calls out from up ahead

“i hope you havent forgotten that you’re 7 feet tall and your legs are as long as my entire body.”

“excuses, excuses,” he sarcastically rolls his eyes

not wanting to hear him continue whining about how slow you are, you speed up your pace quite a bit

as you’re about to reach where lo’ak is, your foot falls into the dip in the branch you’ve never seen before.

you fall face first, hard. and you earn yourself a rather harsh tumble down the branch.

lo’ak is struck with panic. “shit shit shit.” he races down to where you landed, luckily only a couple feet below the branch.

you groan in pain, pushing yourself up with your hands only to find shards of your mask scattered across the ground. oh fuck.

“lo’ak.”

“don’t move, you’ll only hurt yourself even more” he shouts from above. he’s too busy trying to get down to you.

again.

“lo’ak.”

“are you okay?? what hurts??”

again.

“lo’ak.”

he finally gets there in front of you and looks down to see what happened.

oh.

“your mask-“

“it’s broken. i know.”

well, shit. you just wasted your breath by talking.

he stands there for a moment with wide eyes unsure of what to do. guilt rushes through his chest. all he can think about is how this is all his fault. if he hadn’t told you to hurry up you wouldn’t have tripped.

but his emotions are irrelevant right now. he can deal with them later. he needs to get you somewhere safe.

luckily, you guys aren’t too far from the lab. if he sprints fast enough, he could get there in a couple minutes.

“oh fuck- okay. i need you to hold your breath for just two minutes. could you do that?”

you nod in response not wanting to use up even more of your breath. never in a million years did you except to be this thankful for the stupid ass things you and lo’ak would do when you were younger. he would dare you to see how long you could hold your breath without your mask. it made you a pro at holding your breath, and oh boy were you thankful for that foolishly earned skill right now.

he picked you up, careful not to place his hands on your injuries. you wrapped your hands around his neck and closed your eyes hoping that would somehow get you there faster.

he rushed into the lab, startling everyone that was peacefully working just seconds ago.

lo’ak sets you down gently and you let out the biggest breath you’ve ever held. you began practically panting and you hunched yourself over in exhaustion.

lo’ak opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

“thank you, lo’ak”

“no. no don’t thank me. im the reason that all happened. what if we weren’t near the lab?? im sorry, it’s all my fault.”

you’re not sure if it’s because you just held your breath for two minutes or because you think he’s speaking nonsense, but you laugh. right in his face.

“you’re kidding me right?? there is no way you’re laughing right now.”

“sorry, sorry. i just couldn’t take that seriously. it wasn’t your fault lo’ak, you know how clumsy i am. you saved me, so seriously, thank you.”

he pulls you in for a hug, smiling to himself.

#avatar #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x reader #lo’ak headcanons #lo’ak x reader #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #neteyam x human reader #jake sully #neteyam sully #lo’ak sully

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punksocks · 3 days

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Warning Signs That You May Have A Toxic/Karmic Significant Other

Hey everyone, you may have seen my recent post about breaking up with my ex partner after 5.5 years. If not, I’ve been deep in reflection after ending this relationship. My reasons for ending it were that he refused to seek professional help to manage his anger which would come out in constant outbursts of violence (not physical ab*se but hitting walls, kicking furniture, scarring my dog, etc) and his mental health in general. After breaking things off I analyzed our relationship and all the red flags became crystal clear in hindsight. This blog is not only my emotional space to reflect, but also a place to give out advice to make sure you guys feel less alone in the world. So I’ve compiled a list of behaviors that made it clear that in hindsight the relationship was destine to be toxic and could not continue. It’s important to take lessons from painful experiences in order to continue to grow, and that’s what I hope I can help with by sharing my experiences here:

(TW Manipulation, Distressing Themes, Emotional Ab*se)

- They hate your intuition: (they work to make you doubt whatever means you have of self guidance. Whether that’s tarot/astrology, or spirituality in general, or therapy, or your simple gut feelings/reactions to things. They hate them because they know that they’ll be singled out at some point by them so they work to make you not believe in yourself through manipulation/gaslighting. My ex would constantly say the tarot is going to tell me to break up with him, but he never really changed he’d just belittle it and say I was getting weird about spirituality and he’d try to make me doubt myself or choose between the tarot and him. When I asked him to go to therapy he would also say that he was worried the therapist would tell him to break up with me-implying I was the problem. When I would ask him to go anyway he would find a way to avoid it- saying it’s too expensive, too hard to find, he doesn’t have time, etc)

-They constant give you advice that puts you in harm’s way: (My ex always told me I was too quick to cut off people that threw me under the bus and that I was paranoid. When I found out my former business partner was being shady and stealing from me, he told me to keep working with her. I said I had to take things over. He said I had no chance of covering the expenses on my own and that he wasn’t going to help me at all even though he was working a consistent 9-5. I rationalized this as putting too much pressure on him to support me through my apprenticeship over the previous few months, even though by the time we were having this discussion I had picked up a seasonal 9-5 to compensate for starting the business. I still felt guilty because I was asking him to cover the rent at home while I built this business up. I ended up wracking up debt over trying to cover everything myself and he was telling me I was going to fail every step of the way. When I didn’t fail and the business remained open over a year later, he said he had always believed in me every step of the way.)

- They rewrite history (that’s the other thing- when I broke up with him he said it was his idea to open the studio in the first place. This was a lie. A bold one at that. At the time I would have had to become self taught due to dealing with several egotistical mentors (wow thematic) and I looked for positions in other studios and there were none. My ex told me I should “pause” my goals. I told him I’ll open up my own space with another artist. He had a long talking down to me about how we couldn’t afford any of that, and how impossible it was, etc. But I went through with it anyway, effectively doing all the work on my own. He constantly told me what I was doing was crazy. But I made success out of it, thank God. Now my ex is trying to take credit for the whole thing as if I don’t remember what happened. Audacious.)

- Instead of having their own dreams they focus on wearing yours down (I have so many big dreams I want to accomplish and every other idea I shared with my ex was pushed back on or breadcrumbed. I wanted to live abroad, he’d say it’s too expensive but maybe he could find a way to make it work if I stopped putting so much pressure on him. I took over my own business, he told me I shouldn’t do it and should quit while I’m ahead. He would always try to counter every idea I had with a “logical reason” of why it wouldn’t work. He would try to control me by doubting me and in turn trying to get me to doubt myself. I never actually listened to him in hindsight, and when I pushed through successfully he would pretend to have been on my side the whole time.)

-They always compare you to their exes, in bold ways (My ex would always go out of his way to bring up his past relationships. The examples and instances were never appropriate. But one of the first worst early examples was when we were at a show. My friend’s band was playing. In the middle of the set he decided to look up his ex on social media. I was clearly uncomfortable but he continued. Then when we’re talking he brought up a nickname she used to call him that was inappropriate. When I was upset by this he threw a shirt (merch gifted to him by my friend’s band) in the booth almost hitting me with it and he stormed off. He made himself seem like the victim in a situation where he was trying to bait me into starting a public argument and yet made me soothe him afterward.)

- The betrayal of not ever being believed (early on this was another giant red flag in hindsight. I’m black and I tried to explain colorism to him, while I was having a bad experience with it. He’s white and should have been listening and understanding with open ears. Instead he tried to argue me down for being “mean” to light skinned black people. In the experience I was talking about how a mixed femme at work established a boundary with our white bosses to try to avoid racist harm. They let the femme do this without any pushback. I tried to establish the same boundary in the same meeting and those white bosses accused me of actively refusing to do my job. I told my ex this was colorist and that’s when he argued with me about this. He didn’t believe my experiences until he googled “the right articles”. When I brought this up in the future he would say he was just trying to see all black people as equal. It was a pretty disgusting defense.)

- Throwing insults in your face about past trauma (I told my ex about how emotionally abusive my mother was (wow there’s that pattern again) and he would throw this in my face and blame me or compare me to her at the slightest provocation in several arguments. When I was disrespected at work, he would blame me for misinterpreting things. Complaining about how I used him for money whenever I had asked him for help managing the business’ expenses. And so many deep cuts of things he should never said to me and names he shouldn’t have called me if he ever cared about me. He always wrote it off as me misremembering or him meaning it as something else or a distraction tactic of whataboutism -‘what about when you complained that I left dirty clothes on the floor?’ For example. All ways he tried to manipulate me from seeing this pattern of messed up behavior. Every argument he would make us talk in circles until I would have to give up from frustration and exhaustion.)

-They’re full of hot air, and if they seem like they aren’t they’re probably mirroring you (when I broke up with him I stopped hanging out with him pretty much immediately. Although I had to coordinate moving out still, I started keeping my head down to focus on my work. Essentially I had already moved on. I thought we had had deep discussions about the world and life but when I had less to say he had nothing to add. He would just keep filling up the air with anecdotes about nothing and commentary on anything just to keep crossing my boundaries and to try to force me to pay attention to him when it was clear I neither interested or comfortable doing so.)

- They try to force you to become as cynical and jaded as they are (I was never antagonistic per se, but when we were together I had unconsciously started looking/preparing for the worst in every scenario and every person I’d meet. Because of my ex’s toxic influence. Getting along with coworkers? They must be just “kissing up to you” according to him. Like that tv show most people are fond of? No way that has to be trash. Want to try something new? No there can’t be anything good about that. He was a very stuck person that refused to find the joy in almost anything. Unless it was too impressive to ignore —but even then he had to nitpick it apart. I would wonder why his compliments would feel so hollow- it was because he really had trouble seeing the good in anything. Like a day or two after we broke up I was already feeling lighter and more optimistic. When people were kind to me I embraced it easier and in turn every aspect of life got a little brighter. The contempt for others was palatable. Because he expected everyone to be ready to undercut him like he was ready to do to them.)

- Before you know it, they’ll have you romanticizing breadcrumbing behavior (I asked my ex to get on meds for his mental health and to find a therapist so many times over the course of 5 years. 4-5 months before I broke up with him he got on medication. Then after a peace period of a month or so, we were back in a cycle of petty arguments and he was saying the meds don’t work. He didn’t even try to go to therapy until I broke up with him. he got an appointment the next day because he “was trying to win me back” Essentially, he’d never work on himself or actually actively improve things. He’d always make one or two half steps to placate me then complain about how it was too hard and completely impossible to put the work in. Even with the therapy example, he wanted to display that he could make progress in order to win me back. Don’t worry, I had seen this tactic before and knew he would just fall back into toxicity. So, it didn’t work.)

- When you do leave they get cocky about how you’ll have nowhere to go (I leaned on my ex to support me when I became overwhelmed by figuring out my business on my own. I worked several temp jobs in addition to the business but it was stretching me thin. So I needed his help several times and only had so much saved up by the time I broke up with him. After begging me to take him back the entire night and pretending to be supportive, the next day he was scoffing and boasting about how “[he] didn’t even know what [I] was going to do.” He did this over everything from buying my own detergent-even though I always bought the detergent- to managing my bills on my own-even though I usually managed most of my bills on my own- until I finally was able to move out and leave him behind.)

- They never defend you and always make it seem like it’s your fault if you get attacked (My ex was always siding with abusive people and gaslighting me when I noticed that behavior. As many of you may know, my mom was a terror throughout my childhood. I confided in my ex about how much of an impact this had had on me. Before I went no contact with her we all got dinner when she came in town to see me. Despite all my warnings and preemptive begging to be supported through the difficulty of meeting with her my ex threw me under the bus immediately. He laughed at her jokes at my expense and didn’t stop her at all from singling me out. I shutdown in this moment and began to draw to cope- I’m neurodivergent so that’s one of the things I default to doing when I’m overwhelmed. They continued to make fun of me together and when I asked him why he didn’t have my back afterward, he blamed me for “not being friendly enough” and “not interacting with [my] mom enough”. This pattern of doubting and failing to help me would continue through our entire relationship.)

- They’ll have -self aware- moments that aren’t quite what they seem (I truly cannot count the number of times my ex would start an argument just to talk me in circles then try to get me to believe I was in the wrong too. It was truly maddening. He would always push to say he “understood” how we had gotten there. Then ramble on and on and on saying that I was attacking him and he was the victim of things. I asked him to do the dishes? I’m “criticizing [his] housework and putting too much pressure on [him]”. I ask him not to throw things when he’s upset? I’m “overly criticizing [him] and making [him] so anxious he can’t help but hit things”. And on and on and on it went. He would always tidy it up by saying he forgave me because we were “both wrong” and he just “would try to be better next time and [I] should too”.)

-They have underlying personality issues that need to be addressed (and when you bring a hint of these up, they lash out about how you’re attacking them and they throw personal attacks back at you because of their fragile ego. If you -somehow- get them to see a mental health professional you may find them lying about what feedback they got. After I broke up with him he said he’d go to anger management class and find a therapist “to win me back”- funny how it’s after you leave them and set the ultimate boundary they do the work to show you they can hypothetically change and it’s never one of the times you’ve begged before in the midst of madness. Before I moved out I overheard his therapy appointment and she asked about his bipolar diagnosis and he said he was just anxious despite the mood swings. When he came to me to tell me the good news of him finally going to therapy he left that out. When I asked if the therapist knew if he had another disorder he manipulated that. He said the therapist asked if it could be anything else but it was just a brief thought. He framed it that way instead of the consistent behavioral issue it was.)

- Usually they attract drama and chaos but blame you for it as their partner (He always kept his ex around in boundary crossing ways. In hindsight I wouldn’t be surprised if he had cheated in any way with any of them because of how murky he was about spending one on one time with them. They also will always encourage you to keep other toxic people in your life so they can keep flying under the radar/blaming the other toxic people when you feel drained/etc. When I decided to go no contact with my parents, he second guessed me. When I decided to go no contact with my friends that were harmful, he second guessed me. He went out of his way to call me paranoid and picky and every other name in the book he could. Even after I broke up with him he went out of his way to tell me I was paranoid and should quit tarot reading “because [he] knew it would turn [me] against [him] one day”. I told him his opinion meant less than nothing to me.)

- Whenever you set a boundary they try to undermine it and take it as an attack (When we met, all of my ex’s small circle of friends was made up of people he had dated or slept with. Once his friend, who had flirted with him multiple times, asked to stay in his apartment while she moved out of her place. He offered her his bed. She even had a boyfriend at the time but she went to my ex first. I told him this made me very uncomfortable. He screamed and yelled about how he’ll always choose his friends first and I have to understand that and that she didn’t want to sleep in his bed while he was in it. It was crazy but the whole time he called me dramatic and made me feel insane for being so uncomfortable with it.)

- They may often act out in public over the littlest things (my ex would get absolutely infuriated when there were lines in places. Insane right? Especially living in cities? with other people? And yet whenever we went out I’d have to prepare my mental for the possibility of him getting angry and breaking down because people were waiting ahead of him in line. In hindsight the entitlement he had was overwhelming in itself. The last time we went out to a movie -which was a whole scheduling fiasco in of itself with him during our entire relationship, he was obsessed with movies. I like movies but spending 6-9 hours in a theater? Every week? On top of hours of mandatory movie viewing at home? It was exhausting. He also made me pay for my own monthly movie pass even though it was his thing. Even in covid, although I’m immunocompromised I had to negotiate with him to wait to get vaccinated before he went back to the theater. And to wear a mask in the showings. He would huff and fuss about those small courtesies the entire time. Anyway the last movie we went out to see had a long line but we bought tickets ahead of time. He pitched a fit and kept storming off away from me and threatening to leave over the line. I kept following him foolishly, and coaxed him into staying. Of course there were enough seats and of course he enjoyed the movie. He apologized after for “getting overwhelmed by the line” but that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.)

- It’s all or nothing for them but breadcrumbs for you (I’ve always been clear that I have no plans of staying in the country I’m from. From the start I’ve understood I’m not meant to stay here. And yet I stayed in a city I hated so he could suddenly finish his associates degree. We moved back to my hometown but we lived in the most stressful neighborhood because he “wanted to be downtown with a pool.” He would always complain about every single idea I had to leave the country. I’m thinking about doing a language school or artist residency? He “did long distance with [his] ex who cheated and it would be too hard”. I want to study this language and go to this -easy-place for a visa? He “kept forgetting to study and had no idea how we would ever afford the move.” And on and on it went until I simply gave up on trying to get him to step up.)

- They twist everything to be about them even grief (my grandma was like a mother to me, so it hit me hard when she died. She even told me she was going and thanked me for my friendship at the end. It was still a very difficult period and I couldn’t accept it until it just happened. When I got the call and burst into tears my ex said “I’m so sorry… do you blame me because we stayed here for me to go to school and you couldn’t be home with her?” It hadn’t even been 20 minutes since I learned she was gone. The extent of his selfishness would shock me until I cut him off.)

- They make you bury things they don’t like about your self expression/goals (I’ll use a simple example. I love fairy lights. When we met I had fairy lights and my ex had no complaints. But when we moved in together they ‘would always bother him and give him headaches’. So I took out the lights. Then he got me a glowing lamp I wanted for my birthday but never allowed me to turn it on when we were in the room. I brought the lights I love to my work and my ex would complain about them there too. He’d say he didn’t know why he “just didn’t like spending time at the studio” and then use the lights as an excuse, and then hed complain all day about how exhausting it was to be there. He’d only offer to come to the studio more if I turned them off just for him. All this time later and all of a sudden I don’t have any lights I like up. This didn’t happen for everything, but there were a lot of little things he was so controlling about just to be authoritative about something I liked.)

- They hate it when you have positive things happen to you (and instead of seeing your success as a good thing they see it as you one upping them, so they often express jealousy and then disguise it as a joke. He would “joke” about how I was going to fail so often I lost count. When I had a great day there would always be a hint of disappointment in his voice. He would always undermine it in anyway he could. “Oh you made X amount that’s nice, but that’s not enough to cover the rent”. I got a lot of compliments on my outfits, so he’d say “no one ever compliments me”. Always something to bring me down and try to get me to focus on a worry.)

- They downplay your trauma (I’m a burn survivor. My dad burned me through hot water and neglect as a baby on around 20% of my body. For that and many other reasons I became sort of a local legend for my time in our local child protective services. In a city of well over a million people. Doctors thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again and it was a miracle when I did. My grandmother had to wrap my scars everyday, twice a day for 3-4 years afterwards. She would tell me the pain would make me cry random throughout the night until I went to kindergarten. All that to say, my scars had a BIG impact on my health and my life. When I told my ex about my insecurity he said “sorry that happened, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Crazily at 21 I took that as flattery. It was not, it was severely downplaying the trauma I went through because my ex didn’t care for that part of my life. I even remember thinking I should tag a post as a burn survivor and he said “isn’t that like advertising your burns, why warn people about it?”. I got better and embraced my scars all through my own healing but damn it was all severely fucked up.)

- They usually have a Fatal Flaw they try to make you contend with (My ex had explosive anger where he would hit something (a wall, the couch, his desk, etc) or throw things at any slight provocations, and he would disguise it as a reaction of low self esteem instead. I didn’t realize how bad the conditioning had got until I broke up with him and I wasn’t getting jumpy from him coming home anymore or my dog wasn’t hiding from him anymore. I was walking on eggshells all the time and I only knew it subconsciously. He would also curse at me and call me the meanest names from the smallest arguments, he would get belittling. It’s their signature style to make you feel small and to desensitize you to truly nightmarish behavior.)

- That’s the other thing- most people and sometimes animals can tell they’re off (I would always wonder why my ex never seemed to make a good impression on others. They could tell he was off from the start.)

- They start trying to love bomb you after you give up or when they sense you are finally giving up (I always asked my ex to pay more attention to my business/endeavors/art/etc when we were together, to respond to texts I sent him at work-within reason-, to give me some support or feedback. His replies were always blasé. “That’s nice.” Or “I will.” As soon as I broke up with him. He was complaining that he always missed texting me at work. Then he started getting more involved on my social media pages. Then for the first time in months he watched my story on Instagram completely unwelcomed and unprompted. It was how fake the performance of interest was that really struck me after everything.)

- They always ask for one more chance when you’ve given them at least a hundred chances (Evem when I broke up with him he kept saying “you cut off other people (for being toxic) but I never thought it would be me!” I feel like I’ve already put plenty of examples of this, so I’ll just say this points to the fact that at their base motivation they don’t really respect you or care about you. If someone actually cares about you, they’re going to go out of their way to make you comfortable, to care about your opinions and feedback, from the very start)

- Even when it’s over, they still always try to blame you for their bad behavior. (My ex painted himself as an introvert when he was in a relationship. I had always asked him to make -newer, healthier- friends and to make a social effort. Since the beginning. After we broke up he made an effort to go out to social events. After he went out one day he came back and said “I was such a girlfriend guy, I never went out and socialized!” In turn I said you’re not a girlfriend guy you never cared about what I had to say, if you were a girlfriend guy I wouldn’t have had to break up with you for literally never taking me into account. So that ended that.)

- When it’s over the relief hits you in waves (I didn’t even realize how much I was doing to cope with the hostility and boredom of the relationship until it was over. I stopped overeating, I actually lost my appetite for days. I went from taking edibles every week to not even craving the ones I had. I wasn’t the most indulgent but I was shocked by how immediately I was fine with going cold turkey. My time with myself became even more peaceful. Even before I moved out, I was more creative and productive. I felt the beauty and the optimism of all the little moments deep in my spirit and my glow was brighter than ever before. My ex kept turning to me in despair and asking “how can you be so okay with this??” I answered him indifferently because he wasn’t worth entertaining. But obviously my spirit had been restored, I wasn’t wasting love on anyone that didn’t deserve it anymore. My energy was finally all mine. And I had faith in God that everything would be alright. And it was.)

You slowly but surely realize that you were formed to be a victim of a narcissistic/antagonistic person due to being raised by narcissistic parents and in an environment full of enabling emotionally and verbally abusive behavior. When we met I was so vulnerable. I had moved to a new city on my own, I was in a financially precarious place. The city was The Worst for Black people (tm). I was so desperate for an ally, I caught an energy vampire instead. I’ve healed and learned a lot from this. To be much more deliberate about who I let into my life. To be unafraid of purging and moving on when someone shows you they’re incapable of growth. To not accept crumbs of affection and appreciation. To pour my love into myself first before I let anyone else do the same. So I write all this to say, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that some people are so corrupted to the core that they’d rather destroy you than heal themselves. So… forgive yourself for this experience. Forgive yourself for being a person that just loves and cares about others. That believes in cultivating a world full of warmth and compassion. Don’t let one (or a dozen- ugh the people I’ve had to move on from oml) toxic ass person ruin you and your compassion. I had to forgive myself for believing in a lot of disappointing, inept, bad people. But I won’t stop being kind and compassionate because of those losers. I’ll continue to shine my light on those who need it whenever I’m supposed to. I mean I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rely on anyone again without fear of their self interest but one step at a time, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Anyway, wish me luck on this fresh start. Buy a reading if you want to support me. But yeah, thanks for reading y’all.

#astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro community #astrology #lilith astrology #healing #karma #life lessons #false soulmate

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brighterdaysarebeforeus · 10 months

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Soooooooo...basically a rewrite of Hobie's entire part in the movie? Except more awkward teenager and much, much more rambling. This does feel a bit all over the place so...enjoy, if you wanna.

Meeting Gwen for the first time wasn’t anything particularly memorable or anything like that, Hobie didn’t think. It was a simple thing, really; LYLA had found an anomaly, Miguel had reluctantly put Hobie on the case, Hobie had gone out of his way to ramble on about how he wasn’t a cog in Miguel’s system (man looked like he wanted to punt Hobie out of the office, and that just added more pleasure to his insubordination), and then Jess had sort of insisted that Gwen tag along to learn how to inter-dimensional travel and also how to deal with the anomalies as they occurred. Her exact words, if he remembered right, were “she needs to learn how to deal with these things in a team setting, and also maybe get some more friends her own age” or something similar that Gwen had immediately protested against.

He’d protested as well, as if it would change anything, as if these two would take him any serious. Hobie told them that he didn’t believe in teams, or in teamwork, and Jess put her hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eye, and told him very sternly to get over himself. Miguel was in the back, rubbing his hand over his face with one hand and waving the other at them in a motion that screamed ‘just go’. The mission itself was fine, easy job for a sole Spider let alone two Spider-People, but Gwen had been pricklier than he’d been expecting. He thought she was spunky, but particularly withdrawn for a Spider, and she’d snapped at him several times before the mission had ended. Afterwards, they’d gone their separate ways and he didn’t think too much about her, focusing on being the one and only Spider-Man (Spider-Punk, the newspaper headlines screamed, and he’d hated the name with a passion when he was younger, but found the title had grown on him over the years) in Camden.

Then they got paired together again. And again. And again. There’d been a genuine moment of concern that Miguel and Jess were punishing him for something, because they kept sticking him together with this small wisp of a child who looked like she wanted to bite his head off any time he asked her anything remotely personal, whether it be about her family or even her favorite kind of music. Hobie couldn’t even begin to figure her out, but decided that if he kept pushing, especially if they kept getting put on missions together, she’d have to crack eventually, right?

(It was worse when he realized she was actually older than him, even if it was only by three months. She held it over him for days, blocking his every question and prompt with “I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m older than you are.” Like a kid. Like a little kid, and how in the hell was she older than he was? It was unjust, it was.)

The sad part was, Hobie wasn’t even sure when things changed, with Gwen. Rather, he wasn’t quite sure why they had changed, though far be it from him to criticize someone’s changing of their mind. They’d gone on a mission, catching an inter-dimensional Doc Ock in some bizarre backwards universe made up of graffiti art that had her particularly subdued and snappish with him; she’d just given a thirty second rant that had cut Hobie deeper than he’d wanted to admit and they were swinging around searching for the Doc in a strained silence that had lasted until they’d found the fucker; at some point in the fight, the Doc had her pinned and Hobie’d yelled for her to cover her ears, and used his guitar to blast the scientist off of her at the last second, using his regular webs to yank her from where she’d been embedded in the ground; they’d, somehow, ended up victorious back at HQ and handed the Doc to Margo to send back to the proper dimension, went to Miguel and Jess to report their success. Hobie set his watch to his home dimension, the portal had opened up, and then —

“Hey, can I…” He’d half-turned to Gwen, eyes wide on his mask to showcase his paying attention as Gwen held her left arm tightly in her right hand, pointedly not looking at him and using the longer left side of her hair to cover her face. She’d taken off her mask, though Hobie had never really felt comfortable enough in the Spider Society to do so very often, and he could see the uncertainty in her face as she finally spit out, “can I…crash with you? For a bit?”

“Like, in my dimension?” Hobie’d asked, and she rolled her eyes so hard that her head followed the motion automatically. Something warm and pleased grew in his chest as she pushed past him roughly, muttering something sarcastic under her breath, and he didn’t even notice Jess watching them from behind as he nudged her shoulder playfully while they walked through the portal together.

Gwen started hanging around more after that, even when they had to keep moving from abandoned house to abandoned house in order to keep a roof over their head for the night. She didn’t stay over every night, but it was often enough to leave some of her shit laying around for him to trip over. He discovered she like playing drums and incorporated her into his band, more or less the only permanent member aside from him despite the inter-dimensional shenanigans. ‘Gwen’ became ‘Gwennifer’ (she threw her drumstick at him) which then became ‘Guinevere’ (he’d barely dodged the swing she leveled at him for that) became ‘Gwendolyn’ (she’d webbed his mouth shut) became ‘Gwendy’ (she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but he’d caught the pleased look on her face for that one). Over time, she started opening up about her dad, her indefinitely on-hold Spider-Woman work in her home ‘verse, her Peter…

Miles.

The name lit up something at the back of his head, the first time she’d mentioned it, and Hobie couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. It wasn’t until she mentioned something about a particle collider that it came rushing to Hobie; he was Miguel’s “original anomaly”, the one who had apparently weakened the multiverse apart enough for the Spider Society to be kept busy damn near constantly. Hobie could respect a Spider who could throw the multiverse into chaos like that, even if was accidental and wasn’t even his fault to begin with. He tried prompting her, through trial and error, into talking about Miles damn near constantly; it worked better than he’d hoped, and for a hot minute all she would talk about was Miles. What he looked like, what he’d say, the way he’d stuck his hand to her hair when he’d first gotten his powers and she’d had to cut it off on the sides (“and you kept the hairstyle?” “Fuck off, Hobart — ” “Ew, no thanks mate, ‘o the fuck is Hobart — ”). She talked about him so much that Hobie felt like he knew the damn kid all on his own without ever having met him.

And then Gwen got herself assigned to a mission in his universe. Not only that, but she was allowing herself to miss her friend enough to stop off to visit when she went, though she had a brief moment of panic before she’d left and she’d called him for ‘moral support’ or whatever it was she’d hissed at him when she called. Hobie felt proud of her for that, even though he couldn’t find his chucks the day she left and he nearly brained himself tripping over her damn jumper when he headed to the bathroom.

It was her first mission on her own, officially, and Hobie was pulling out damn near every trick in the book to keep him from worrying. He was sitting at her drum set where they had it set up in a practice warehouse, listlessly banging on the cymbals when his watch went off a second time. Heart jumping up into his throat, Hobie answered the call and whipped his way into Mumbatten, which was exactly where Gwen was not supposed to be at this current moment. He’d barely even taken the time to suit up, nearly forgot to grab his damn guitar, and didn’t even pause to take in the situation before strumming the thing and bursting through what looked like a barrier. He’d heard Gwen and Pavitr shout, but he’d landed with his back to them and then he’d gotten rushed by Pav the second he caught his breath.

Then he’d turned fully, pushed Pav off of him, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught a good, solid look of him, dressed in his black suit with pops of red; it had to be Miles, the Spider-Man-Who-Wasn’t-Supposed-To-Exist-In-Earth-1610-Specifically, which for some reason both was a surprise and yet was completely expected.

“This the kid from 1610?” He asked first, like he wasn’t fully aware of who Miles was to begin with. Gwen’s head rolled, a sure sign she was rolling her eyes, and he’d glanced her way briefly before looking back at Miles, who was complaining to Gwen. He’d gotten close enough when Pav thanked him for destroying the barrier in time to hear him (“I weakened it!”) and shot a quick demonstration of “use your whole palm, mate, not just your fingertips”, complete with hand visuals. Miles looked, low-key through his mask, like he wanted to strangle him. Gwen looked away, but Hobie could tell her shoulders were shaking from held-back laughter.

He wanted to crawl into a small hole for a minute. For a hot second, Hobie debated the pros and cons of potentially just jumping back through the portal and going home, there were three Spiders to deal with the Dalmatian over there, he wasn’t really needed for this, was he? He was distracted for all of two seconds before remembering there was supposed to be a fight going on, and he was supposed to be helping, and that Miles was standing in front of him.

So, naturally, once he was back online and fully focused, he opened his mouth and immediately put his foot in it.

“What’s up with his suit, is he bleeding from the armpits?”

“Wha-Who even is this guy?” Gwen introduced them quickly, Hobie talking even faster as they prepared to fight the Dalmatian-looking dude in front of them, and though Miles looked slightly lost (“I thought you hated labels?”), Hobie had hope that they’d be able to get along swell.

Then he stuck his foot in it again.

“Gwendy, you left your jumper ‘round my place.”

“What’s a jumper?”

“It’s a sweater!”

“How many sweaters do you own?”

And, because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut to save his own damn life even as Gwen clearly tried to salvage that mess, Hobie continued.

“And your toothbrush.” He kind of wanted to die. What was the deal with this spotty dude? Hobie wondered if the dude would shoot him into another dimension if he asked him nicely enough. He hated asking nice though, and it was pretty obvious this guy happened to be the villain of the week (as it were), so his best bet was staying here. Shame, that. He was really fucking things up right about now, and he just knew Gwen was gonna give him shit for it later too.

Things happened…weirdly fast after that. They fought the Dalmatian, they lost the Dalmatian, Mumbatten’s AlcheMax began crumbling and they had to save the people. Normal Spider stuff, and Hobie was glad for the distraction — well, not glad glad, he didn’t want Mumbatten to fall apart and Pav was far too little a Spider to be dealing with this kind of cosmic mess — just because Miles took off with Pavitr and left him and Gwen to hold the building up. Even better, Gwen was all the way over there, so she couldn’t even give him shit for how he’d been acting the fool in front of Miles.

God, he just hoped it wasn’t noticeable. To Miles, at least.

Then after the building collapsing was the bridge falling apart, and Miles diving to save the Inspector. Hobie had skid to a stop next to Gwen, the both of them staring down as Pav tried to save the bus and his girl, and Miles tried to save the Inspector. Gwen’s eyes were wide, taking up the entirety of her face as she held onto the railing in a death grip with one hand, the other still outstretched; she’d grabbed Miles then, right before Hobie had gotten there, and for a moment he wasn’t sure why she’d done it.

“He’ll be aces, yea?” Hobie said to her quietly, eyes still on the bridge.

“It’s a canon event. He’s interfering with it.” Gwen said somberly, and Hobie scoffed with a roll of his eyes — she sounded just like Miguel, there, for a hot moment, and he wondered if he should begin extracting them both before the man’s ideals managed to get in any deeper — but Gwen didn’t seem to notice him. When the bridge finished collapsing, she didn’t hesitate to jump over the rail, yelling for Miles as she did so. Hobie followed after her, beelining his way to Pav first to help him with the bus. Once it was on solid ground, relatively speaking, the passengers disembarking and Pavitr trying to smooth things over with his girl, Hobie turned on time to see Gwen lift a giant piece of rubble to reveal —

Miles. Holding a small child, with the Inspector right behind him. Both were fine, probably filled with adrenaline but relatively unharmed, and Pav’s girl was rushing past them all to embrace her father. Hobie followed her, not to the Inspector, but to Miles; Miles, who had been facing Gwen, who hadn’t heard him approach and therefore wasn’t anticipating it when Hobie grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook him eagerly.

“Miles, my guy!” He said cheerfully, and even the city cheered for them (and wasn’t that just novel, that’s never happened to Hobie before), and then —

There was a hole, big and black and looking similar to the spots on the Spot, sucking in pieces of Mumbatten. There was Jess, and her team of Spiders trying to keep it contained (points to Spider Society!) and her just blatantly blowing off Miles in a way that made Hobie’s hackles rise and ordering them all back to HQ to talk to Miguel (negative points for their diligent leaders!). Panic spiked at that, briefly, for Hobie; he leaned on Miles and tried to get him out of it, get them both out of it, but Miles shrugged him off in order to practically run into the belly of the beast with his fist in the air like he’d won something. Hobie dropped his face into his palm, but followed along anyway. Just to see what was going to happen.

Miles looked slightly awed when he took off his mask, which was kind of an ego boost, if Hobie was being honest; his whispered comment was met with one of his own comebacks (“how are you even cooler under the mask?” “I was this cool the whole time.”) that made Gwen press her lips together as she repressed her snort of laughter. Hobie glowered at her slightly, and she rolled her eyes in the opposite direction. Even Jess looked somewhat amused, and Hobie grunted softly at both of them.

He tried, honest to god, he tried so hard to keep Miles from meeting Miguel. Once he’d realized that Gwen had met with Miles and yet told him nothing about the Spider Society, told him nothing about how he fit into all of this as the supposed “original anomaly” (he had ThoughtsTM about Miguel’s thought process, is all, ThoughtsTM that he didn’t necessarily have time to delve into at this specific moment) — he couldn’t let him walk in blind. Miles didn’t deserve the way Miguel was gonna treat him on a normal day, short-tempered and blunt as the man was, let alone a day where a mission was fucked up bad enough that the BBG got away and another dimension was in peril of nonexistence. There was just no time to prepare him, not right at this moment, and he’d completely messed up his entrance to begin with so it wasn’t even like Miles would wanna even listen to anything Hobie had to say, let alone believe it, so…Hobie stalled.

Easily reaching out and grabbing anything potentially useful, Hobie distracted Miles as best he could. Bet this don’t even do anything. Why’d you wanna join up anyway? (The scoff Miles gave him when Hobie told him to make his own watch was not cute, Hobie did not find it endearing at all, and he was shit at lying to himself) What’s your set up — loving parents? (He was thankful Gwen was walking ahead of them for that one and not paying them any attention; the way he’d leaned on that unused portal more or less broadcasted his interest, especially combined with the way he’d fallen through it. He was also infinitely grateful Miles was too preoccupied to notice that blatant display). Hell, he even planted himself in front of the damn kid, sitting in the chair and stretching his legs out onto the table top so that Miles wouldn’t advance anymore, and felt his heart flutter in his chest when Miles simply pushed past him without even stopping.

Then it stopped when Miguel showed up, acting more Miguel-ish than usual. Miles greeted him brightly, holding up the empanada he’d gotten from the cafeteria, but Miguel was having none of it at the moment. Hobie glared at him out of the corner of his eye when he threw the empanada, then dipped out of sight in order to steal more tech that he needed; he lost track of what was happening all the way up to the loud crashing noise, and he’d popped his head back over to see Miguel yelling at both Gwen and Miles. Sniffing irritably, Hobie opened his mouth and was cut off immediately by Peter Parker from Earth 616 making his appearance. Miles was happy to see him, Hobie could hear it in his voice, and against his better judgement he went back to what he was doing.

When Miguel trapped Miles, way before literally trapping him in a cage, Hobie made his way to Miles’ side while keeping a small distance from him. He kept his eyes on him, watching how he ranted against Miguel’s idea of ‘keeping to the canon’, how he fought against the idea of letting one person die just to save others, how he argued that as Spider-Man they should be able to do both. Watched how he turned to his original allies, Peter 616 and Gwen and even Peni, and how they all couldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a few seconds. Encouraged him when it seemed like he needed it (“Here we go.” “Hobie, you’re not helping.” “Good.”). Miles realized it was a trap a second too late, and once Miguel had him caged, chaos began to descend upon them all. His friends were yelling at Miguel, who was yelling back, and Miles was panicking. He couldn’t break himself out, and Hobie’d had enough.

“Oi, Peter Pan.” Hobie hissed at him, and Miles stared at him with wide eyes. He didn’t touch the digital net, all too aware of the fact that it would draw attention from the others, but he spread his hands out just in front of it. Hobie repeated his advice from earlier, complete with visual demonstration, without speaking out loud. “Use your palms.” Miles seemed to take a breath at that, his shoulders lowering from around his ears as he pressed his hands fully against the barrier, palms and all. Since Hobie was the only one paying attention, he knew to brace himself when electricity started crackling up and down Miles’ arms; when the barrier exploded, he was the only one who wasn’t knocked over aside from Miles, who seemed to freeze for a sec when he realized he was free. He chuckled, smiling proudly when Miles’ wide brown eyes met his again, without the barrier this time.

Then Miles turned heel and booked it down the corridor, where the door was wide open and awaiting his exit. Hobie sort of regretted that breaking the door so it would stay open meant that the other Spiders also had easy access to go after Miles, but they were still trying to pick themselves up off the floor and that gave Miles a solid four second head start. It was the best Hobie could do for him, given the situation, along with one last thing.

Miguel yelled for everyone to go after Miles, and they complied. Hobie activated his watch, creating a portal to his home ‘verse. Sneering at all the Spiders rushing past him, Hobie shouted “for the record, I quit!” and threw his watch off once he was safely in the portal.

He crash landed towards the edge of the bed in the room, close enough to where he was aiming originally. Sighing heavily, Hobie sprawled out on the bed and listened to the drones flying overhead, watched as their lights illuminated the room he was staying in currently. Gwen’s jumper was still on the floor where she’d left it, her shoes dropped carelessly two feet beside it. (Seriously, her shoes were right there, did she really have to take his?) With a soft sigh and a quiet groan, he pulled himself back up, stretched, and started pulling shit out of his pockets. He’d actually grabbed a lot more things than he’d needed, courtesy of trying to hold the door for Miles, and he tossed aside the things he didn’t need in order to get started. Several other watches dropped out of his pocket as well, the ones he’d made before staying on him for safekeeping — one for him, one for Pav, one for Gwen.

Just because Miles didn’t want to make his own watch didn’t mean Hobie couldn’t make one for him.

#punkflower #spider punk #spider gwen #miles morales #hinted punkflower #like just a taste of it #spiderman atsv #more hobie pov of his part in the movie than anything else #starts before the movie events

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sweet-pea-channie · 2 years

Text

Forbidden Love - S.S. AU Pt. 2

Author: @sweet-pea-channie

Words: +7.5k

Warnings: first kiss, gentle foreplay, finger tracing, fingering, first time sex, unprotected sex (obviously since this takes place in the 1600′s), multiple orgasm

A/N: Part two of Forbidden Love for you guys! I had to rewrite the intimite part, because I wasn’t happy with it. It didn’t feel like the two of them were inexperienced. But I hope you liike it!

Do you want to be added to the taglist? Let me know!

Masterlist - Series Masterlist

"Y/N where are you?"

You hadn't been hiding there for long, and you wondered how quickly Stiles could find you already. You tried to be as quiet as possible, but your heart was beating way too fast and way too loud, your breathing was also very unsteady from running around the castle.

"Y/N?"

You put your hand over your mouth to block out any possible sounds. After all, Stiles could always find you, no matter where. Within no time, he always knew exactly where you were hiding.

"I know you're here somewhere in the room. I heard the door slam. No one else comes in here."

You gulped and peeked through the narrow crack of the closet you'd been hiding in. Stiles stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning over his right shoulder. He inspected the entire room, wondering where you might have been hiding. His eyes fell on the closet you were in, and as if looking directly into your eyes, he sprinted straight for you. Before he could even open the closet door, a low screech escaped your lips, the fear that he could crush you along with the closet door was greater than the fear of finding you. Stiles pulled open the door and smiled at you.

"It’s your turn now," he laughed and ran right out of the room. You grabbed the skirt of your dress and lifted it to run faster after him. Your short legs didn't make it any easier. You watched as Stiles ran all the way down the hall and disappeared shortly after. Even though you couldn't count, Stiles didn't care that you always begged not to have to search. He always said that you could just stop for a while before you went looking for him.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? I told you, you can't be in the hallways of the castle in public," you heard your father's voice behind you. You turned around and looked into the tired and worn out eyes of your father, who was carrying heavy wooden slats through the castle. He didn't give you an evil look, more a worried one. Since he always brought you to the castle and you were less and less around him, he worried about you every day. He didn't know what was happening to you while you were sneaking around the castle.

"Stiles and I are playing hide and seek," you replied simply, pointing in the direction Stiles had just disappeared. "It's my turn to search now."

"Honey, I've told you several times not to play with Stiles. There are the other girls downstairs in the kitchen. I'm sure they can play with you, or you can help the ladies with the kitchen chores. How does that sound to you?"

"I don't want to do that, though. I want to play with Stiles. Stiles is the only one here who is nice to me and doesn't laugh at me for not being able to read and count. Everyone else is always making fun of me," you explained to your dad, giving him the best pout you could manage.

Your father put down the wooden slats and squatted down to be at your eye level. "Y/N, I know that you want to play with Stiles the most and I also understand that he is the nicest to you. But that may change with time. Stiles is not like us, sweetie. Stiles will eventually rule this castle and this country, unless something comes up."

"Maybe I can become a princess?!" you asked your father full of hope, already jumping up and down slightly, but your father held you by your shoulders and tried to calm you down. "Sometimes, unfortunately, dreams remain dreams. Now be a good girl and go to the kitchen to Katherine, I'm sure she can use your help."

There was a knock at the kitchen door and Katherine looked up. One of the castle boys, friends of Stiles, came into the kitchen and looked around briefly. "Can I help you, young man?" asked Katherine when he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. "Because I think you're lost, aren't you?"

"No, I'm looking for Y/N," he replied, seeing you standing behind Katherine.

"May I ask why?"

"I have something for her," he said, pulling out a small piece of parchment from his pants pocket. "This is from Stiles."

You looked at Katherine questioningly until she nods, letting you know it would be okay to get closer to him. After all, you had experienced it yourself a few times now, what it was like to be nastily picked on by the people who lived in the castle. Only a few days ago you were pulled by your braided hair by a lord until he dragged you on your knees behind him. The injuries on your knees were still healing. Why he did that to you was something you didn't know at the time. Even now, not really. But according to the employees in the kitchen, you should not have approached him so easily, and meanwhile you had asked quite nicely for the way to the queen. You were now better aware that you were not allowed to do that.

So you walked with careful steps to the boy, who was about your age, and took the parchment from his hand. You opened it and found several characters on it. But since you couldn't read and no one had ever taught you, you looked at Katherine again and reached out to give it to her. Katherine was one of the only ones in the kitchen who was lucky enough to read. She smiled at you and read the message once silently to herself before deciding to read it to you as well, but not before kindly asking the boy out of the kitchen. "He writes that he is proud of you for getting a job here in the kitchen and he wants to meet you later by the magnolia tree, then when the sun is between the owl tower and the big willow."

Your eyes sparkled as Katherine read you the message from Stiles. For a long time you had hoped that you would finally be allowed to work in the kitchen. And yesterday was the day. You were officially appointed as a kitchen servant. Your father was immensely proud of you when you broke the news to him late that evening.

"Y/N, you have to be careful. I told you before not to keep seeing our prince," Katherine said as she handed you the parchment. Even though you couldn't read what was written on it, you looked at the characters again. Stiles had never written to you before, after all, he didn't know where to deliver it so it could reach you. But now he could always send you something.

"And you're not the only one," you laughed, tucking the parchment into one of the pockets of your apron. "But yeah, I know I shouldn't see him. But I've known Stiles for eight years now, ever since Father first brought me to the castle."

"You were both only 7 years old then, Y/N. Stiles didn't know who you were yet."

"And he still doesn't care. Stiles isn't like everyone else," you tried to defend him and you knew Katherine knew that too judging by her look, yet the features on her face were one of concern.

"Oh Y/N, your soul is far too kind for this," she sighed, gently pushing you outside. "I think it's almost time. Go outside to the courtyard and see where the sun is setting. I don't think it will be long now."

"Thank you, Katherine," you thanked her and smiled at the older lady before heading outside where the other servants were already making their rounds and returning with the freshly harvested fruits and vegetables to prepare the evening meal. "I won't be gone long, I promise."

"You know where to find us," Katherine called after you as you were already running away. The sun was already behind the tower, and indeed it wasn't long before it was between the owl tower and the willow. And since the way to the magnolia tree was not exactly short, you decided to make your way there already now.

The magnolia tree had been your hiding place for years. Even though it was one of the most beautiful trees, it was little visited, it was too far away for the ladies of the court and surrounded by bushes and undergrowth. Most would have been more afraid of destroying their garment there. You didn't care of course, most of your dresses already had holes and were not the most beautiful. Well, and Stiles, Stiles didn't care about his clothes either. He had his own tailors, after all, who were only busy making him and his family new clothes.

"Y/N," you heard Stiles' voice behind you. It was very quiet, even though no one was around, but you could still recognize his voice, even from miles away. You quickly turned around and saw him standing there in his everyday clothes, a simple pair of dark pants with black boots and a white shirt. He had left his tunic off, out here in the sun it seemed far too warm for it.

"Stiles," you breathed out, running the last few steps towards him. Stiles smile grew until he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground. "I haven't seen you in so long."

"I know," he replied, setting you back down on the ground, but keeping his arms around your body. "I've been with my dad a lot. We fought together with the sword for the first time today. Otherwise it was always Louis I had practiced with."

"That sounds like fun," you countered, playing with the ribbons of his blouse.

"It was, but I want to know more about your day, what's it like to finally get to work here?" he asked, slowly breaking away from you. Immediately you missed his warmth and wanted to get back into his arms, however Stiles pointed directly at the trunk of the magnolia and sat on the ground before leaning against the tree. He made room for you to sit next to him and so you used his shoulder as a backrest. And as you leaned against him and pulled your knees towards you, your robe slipped off your knees and your injuries on your knees were visible. Quickly you pulled the robe back over your knees, but Stiles had already seen them. He stopped you by grabbing your hand and looked at you, startled. With his other hand he grabbed your dress and said softly, "May I?"

You nodded and watched as Stiles carefully pulled your dress off your knees to get a better look at the injuries. "Damn, Y/N, that doesn't look good at all," he said after seeing the red knees. The wounds were already crusted over and looked pretty bad, but crusting always meant it was already healing, after all. "How did this happen?"

"Can we maybe talk about something else? We certainly don't have that much time," you replied, pulling the dress back over your knees so he couldn't see it.

"Y/N, please tell me how this happened. It doesn't look like a simple fall to me. What happened?"

You took a deep breath before reading out a loud sigh, "I wanted to thank your mother for the job in the kitchen... I know now that was just stupid and rash of me. Lord Westbrook made that clear to me when I asked him for directions. It's really not as bad as it looks Stiles-"

"It looks pretty bad to me, Y/N. Your knees are all red around the wounds, which means it's infected. You should have the medicus here look at it, if it gets worse I can't forgive myself," he asked.

"I can't just go to the Medicus here in the castle. I have no rights for that and I don't have enough money for the herbalist in the village. Clarissa, the woman who still lives in our house, said that cold compresses and sage help. So that's what I've been doing the last few evenings."

"Doesn't really seem to help if it still looks like that, though," Stiles countered.

"Can we maybe not argue about this right now and just enjoy the short time we have?" you asked him, resting your head on his shoulder. Stiles sighed and put his hand on your head to run through your hair. "Of course."

But Stiles didn't quite settle down, he rummaged around in the pocket of his pants until he found a few silver pennies and placed them in the pockets of your apron. "Please do me a favor and take it to the herbalist. I don't want it to get any more infected."

"Stiles, I can't accept that, it will stand out if I suddenly show up there with so many coins."

"Can you turn your head off for a moment? The herbalist won't care where you got the coins. She only cares about the value and less about where it all came from. Please Y/N, please go there. If you don't go there I'll just worry until I see you next time and you mean way too much to me for that."

"Yes?”

"Yes what?"

"That I mean that much to you?"

"You don't even know how much," he murmured, stroking your hair once more.

"You mean a lot to me too, Stiles," you replied, smiling at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Good," Stiles said, smiling before doing something he had never done before. He put his hand on your cheek and turned your head in his direction so you could just look at him. This time you couldn't read him, something you were always very good at. Stiles was easy for you to see through but probably only because you knew him so long and well. But this time you couldn't guess what he was up to.

Stiles moistened his lips before coming dangerously close to your face, only to finally place his lips on yours. Never before had you kissed anyone and you weren't sure how to react. His lips were soft and warm, not that you've ever had any to compare them to, but still, you could already tell that they were the softest lips you could ever get to feel.

After gathering your thoughts and being able to process that Stiles was kissing you, something you had been hoping for for a very long time, you finally kissed him back. You could feel that Stiles was relieved and smiled into the kiss, he smiled so much that he pulled away from you slightly. This also gave you a chance to gasp for air. "Stiles..."

"I know," he said, placing his lips on yours again. He pulled you closer to him as he did so, and grabbed your legs to lay them across his lap. That way you could sit much more comfortably and didn't have to twist your body like that. He left his hands on your legs after that and gently stroked from your ankles up to your knees while your hands were completely engulfed in his blouse where you held on so tightly as if you were standing off a cliff.

"Stiles we can't do this," you said as you pulled away from him. His lips were swollen and now bright red, far too tempting for you and so you had to look away before you got any further into the mess.

"We can't do this in the castle, but no one will see us out here, Y/N."

"And what if they do?"

"Don't worry, you'll be my secret."

"How is your father?" you asked Stiles when you first saw him after the terrible news. The news had made its rounds some time ago, but now a few days ago the royal couple had made it public. The king was ill and you didn't know how soon he would be well again, and if he would be well at all. What exactly he had was not disclosed to you in order to protect him.

"Sometimes better, sometimes worse. Lately, though, he's had more bad days than good," he sighed, opening his eyes again. Stiles had put his head in your lap while you had been resting against the magnolia tree.

"I'm very sorry about that, Stiles," you replied, lightly stroking his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N. It's least of all your fault. I'm saying he's been under a lot of stress lately and he's already been pretty banged up. I think that's taken its toll on him now and his body has signaled that it's too much now."

"Are you afraid that he's going to...? You know, die?" you asked.

Stiles reached for your other hand and intertwined your fingers. "Sometimes I am. I lie awake at night every once in a while wondering what if. I haven't been by his side long enough to be able to rule the country on my own. Mother would step in and take over for that time anyway. But I know how the people feel about my mother, or you do too. You're just afraid to go near her, and I don't want a country to live in fear and anxiety."

"How can I take your mind off of it, Stiles? I don't want to see you suffer like this," you said as you now played with his fingers.

"Well, I'm distracted enough now, but at night I often have trouble falling asleep. As long as I'm with you I'm fine," he answered and gave your hand a gentle kiss. And while he had his lips on the back of your hand, you could see that he was thinking about something. His dreamy look told you that.

"What is it?"

"What if you came over tonight?"

"Stiles!" you warned him, taking your hand from his. The movement was so jerky that Stiles startled and sat down on his knees beside you. "We can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Did you actually turn your little head on with that idea? How am I supposed to get in? What am I supposed to tell my dad where I am? What if I get caught? Your mother would immediately throw me in the dungeon and let me starve there. And what if-"

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down. Your head's about to start smoking if you don't slow down. Have you forgotten already? The tunnels under the castle, there's an entrance right down the hall from my room. I could make sure that no guard is on the way and you sneak past into my room. And don't worry about your father, I can handle that," he said, pushing himself off the floor with his hands. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he could clean his pants from the dirt and got ready to leave you alone again. But before that he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out something small, round and golden. He reached out and helped you back to your feet as well, before placing the small golden something in your hands.

"This here is a Petrus Hehle, also known as a clock. My father was given this by Peter Henlein when he was traveling through the East by ship. He managed to turn time into this little movement. So we don't always have to look at how the sun is standing to know what time it is."

"Stiles, I can't read that, though."

"Yes you can, look. I taught you the numbers, didn't I? Do you recognize them here? You just have to keep turning it so you can see the numbers right and they're not upside down. When the little hand is on IX and the big hand is on XII, then it's 9 o'clock in the evening. Then I'll make sure the entrance to the tunnel is unguarded, okay? Do you trust me?" he asked, closing your hand around the little Peter throat, as he had called it.

"Always," you replied, just looking him in the eye.

"Okay, see you later then," he said and ran off. "Ah wait a minute! You have to use the tunnel entrance behind the orchard, I'll mark the rest of the way for you!"

So, full of nervousness, you were now standing in front of the door that led to the underground tunnels. There had been no one in the kitchen for some time. After dinner, everything was quickly cleaned and then all the servants went home, except for the one person who usually stayed at the castle overnight, should be an emergency overnight. But for that person a little hat was provided to spend the night. You told them that you were waiting for your father, who was working a little later than usual, and then he would pick you up. So no one asked questions why you were there longer than everyone else.

The little golden something in your hand showed shortly before 9 o'clock. The sun had already set and the castle showed itself from the dark side. You walked to the entrance of the tunnel in the dark so as not to attract attention and then lit the small oil lamp that Stiles had placed at the door. The door opened a little harder than you thought, but in no time you were standing in the cold corridors, following the markings on the wall that Stiles had probably painted there with the help of stones.

A short time later, you found yourself at another door that you passed. You assumed that must be the door into the castle, and you were right. You could see your name on the door. Now that Stiles had taught you to read a few months ago, it was easy for you to recognize it.

With the back of your sleeve you wiped your name off the door in case someone came by and saw it. You blew out the oil lamp and placed it back on the floor before slowly opening the door. The dark hallway quickly filled with the light coming from the castle, bringing in a bit of warmth. Immediately you recognized Stiles' voice from further away. He seemed to be talking to someone. With one last look at the clock Stiles had given you, you saw that it must have been just after 9 o'clock, because the big hand had already passed XII.

"Can you make sure no one goes into my room tonight? Since I'm not so dazzling, I don't want anyone to disturb me and see me that way either, do you understand?"

Stiles' voice sounded different than usual and not as cordial, it had a stern tone, something you weren't used to hearing from him like that.

"May I ask you one more question, Sir?" asked the guard Stiles may have been talking at.

"But of course," Stiles replied.

Taking this as a chance, you made your way into the hallway before letting the door slam shut behind you and quickly slipped into the hallway next door, where Stiles' room was located. The door was ajar and you dashed inside.

Your mouth watered when you finally saw the inside of his room, until now you had only seen him from downstairs at his window and you only knew the room from stories. His bed stood in the middle of the large room, which was already lit with a few candles. In front of the bed was a small chest with several skins on it to keep Stiles warm probably during the night. You wanted to inspect every millimeter of his room, but unfortunately you didn't get the chance, because the door opened. You startled and hid behind the bed, hoping no one had seen you.

"Y/N? Are you here?" asked Stiles after he had safely closed the door to his room.

"I'm here," you replied, coming out of your hiding place. Stiles was already in his sleeping garb and free of any clothing that made him a prince. You could almost say he was a normal citizen.

Stiles came up to you in five quick and big steps and grabbed your face with his big hands before bringing it closer to yours and kissing you deeply. You hadn't shared many kisses in the long time since he first kissed you. Too often the danger was too high that someone could catch you. The only place where you could always be undisturbed was the magnolia tree. But you two didn't always manage to meet there. There was a lot to do in the kitchen, and Stiles couldn't leave the castle without excusing himself very often. His mother noticed that he was missing more and more often.

"I'll be able to sleep a lot better tonight with you here," he mumbled against your lips, and then finally detached himself completely. "You're completely freezing, come with me."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the other end of the room, where there were several dressers and closets. He pulled one of his nightgowns from the dresser and handed it to you. "Your clothes are damp and cold from the tunnel. If I had known it was this cold down there, I wouldn't have sent you through there."

"It's okay, Stiles," you assured him, taking off the cloak you had thrown around your shoulders.

"Let me put that away. Preferably near the fire, so it can dry quickly. I'll give you a little quick time to change, okay?"

You nodded and disappeared behind the small movable wall that was set up there to have some privacy while you changed. Stiles was standing by the fire and had placed your cloak there on one of the stools and was watching you through the wall. There wasn't much to see, because the wall covered some things, but he could visibly see your figure behind it.

A little later you came out from behind the wall again and stood quite uncomfortably on the spot. In your head you had been imagining all evening what I would talk about, how you would spend the evening together, but suddenly your head went blank, you didn't know what to say anymore.

Stiles looked you up and down once. Your bare legs shone in the light of the fire and your open hair, which was usually braided into a tight braid, now reached down to your back. But what distracted Stiles most was something else. You didn't seem to realize it at first, but because of the cold you felt, your nipples could be clearly seen through Stiles' nightgown. Stiles caught himself staring at it for too long, trying to look at your beautiful face.

You looked down at yourself to see what Stiles had been watching the whole time and were startled to see what he was looking at. You quickly crossed your arms over your chest and made yourself small by looking down at the floor.

Stiles quickly walked up to you and took your hands in his. "Don't, you don't have to hide. Not from me."

You nodded and watched him run his fingers up your arms, sliding them along your shoulders and stopped right over your chest. Your breath stopped and you couldn't even tell exactly how your body was reacting. "May I?" he asked softly, looking up from his fingers into your eyes. You weren't sure if this was really the right thing to do and if you should step in here and now. But you listened to your heart and not your head this time. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," you replied, nodding to signal to him that it was okay with you. Stiles fingers slowly danced across your chest, hitting your hard nipples. A wave of euphoria ran through your body and your arms and legs were marked by the goosebumps that spread across your skin. "You're all sensitive."

"Stiles, I don't know if this is right what we're doing," you confessed to him as his fingers slid further down to your belly.

"We can stop this anytime you want, Y/N. I don't want to force you to do anything."

"Trust me Stiles, this all feels so right, but what if-"

"When was the last time you bled?"

"Hmm?"

"When was the last time you bled, Y/N?"

"Just a few days ago, why?"

"Then you don't have to worry about it. Come with me," he said, leading you by his hand to his bed. He laid you down on the bed first and put your legs a little apart so he could get comfortable between them. You were still a bit unsure, because the whole situation was not familiar to you. Seeing Stiles sitting there between your legs was at first a little uncomfortable. But when he started to move his fingers slowly from your feet up to your knees, your thoughts disappeared immediately.

Stiles stopped at your knees and kissed both of your knees. The wounds had long since healed, though the scars were still clearly visible. You had always hidden them. Not even your father or sister knew about the scars. Only Stiles and the herbalist in the village who had helped you knew about them. Stiles was relieved when you showed him the healed scars for the first time. He was sure that you would not dare to go to the herbalist.

Carefully he drove his fingers further and further up, first along the top of your thighs, then again from the front but this time on the inside. Your whole body started to tingle and you caught yourself longing for his touch. Stiles saw your reaction and grinned down at you. He knew exactly how shy you were and how virginal. He wasn't a bit less so, but he had no qualms about you. He knew you were the person who knew him best.

Stiles reached for the collar of his nightgown and pulled it over his head until he was clad only in his linen underwear. "Give me your hand."

As instructed, you reached your hand out to him and Stiles took it in his. To loosen you up a bit, he started running your fingers over his stomach to get to know his body. His chest was overlooked by a few individual hairs, but they were already quite thick for his young age. The hairs tickled your fingers and you had to smile as you ran your fingers over his chest. Stiles let go after a while when he noticed that you were starting to feel comfortable with what you were doing.

You dropped your hands and propped yourself up on them to sit up a bit. With your legs wrapped around Stiles' waist, you too reached for the nightgown and pulled it over your head. Stiles took the robe from you and put it with his before looking at you. "You're beautiful, Y/N."

Your cheeks flushed and you bit your bottom lip. Stiles held you by the shoulders and gently laid you back on your back as he engaged you in a kiss. You could feel his tongue on your lips and so you opened your lips a little more to give him the kiss. Stiles didn't wait long and deepened the kiss in no time while he wrapped one of your legs around his waist and snuggled up to you even more. As if Stiles had done this many times before, he moved his hips against yours, creating friction between your underwear. A feeling you couldn't describe ran through your body and you had to pull away from his lips to let out a slight moan.

"You like that?" whispered Stiles, placing his lips on your neck where he gently began to suck on your tender skin.

"Mmm," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Stiles..."

"Shh," he murmured against your skin, his lips moving further down until he reached your breasts. He looked up at you one last time to make sure you were okay before he saw your flushed expression and placed his lips around your left nipple.

Immediately you reacted to this and pressed your chest closer to his head, his arms wrapped around your torso and held you tightly while he made circling movements around your nipple with his tongue. Over and over again he heard you moaning softly, but that wasn't enough for him, he wanted to hear you much louder. With his left hand he reached for your free breast and pinched your nipple. You had not expected this action and so you screamed out briefly, but not from pain, but more from excitement. You had never felt anything like this before. Your whole body trembled and tingled, from your toes up to your ears and you didn't want Stiles to stop.

But as if Stiles could read your mind, he detached himself from your breasts and licked his lips once before bending down again and this time putting your other nipple between his lips and gently biting it. Again you moaned loudly and pressed your upper body against his. Stiles took his other arm from under you and searched for the loop of your linen underwear. After finding it, he blindly undid the knot and pulled on the string until it came loose. He sat up and left you lying back there on the bed all excited as he looked at what he had done. Your breasts were all red and purple, clear marks of what he had done were now on those and it made him a little proud that he had done that.

"Stiles, are you sure you want to take this step with me and not with someone more made for you?" you asked him, hoping he would say yes.

"If not with you, then with no one else," he replied, kissing you deeply. While you pressed your tongue against his lips this time and deepened the kiss, Stiles continued to make a pass at your underwear, pulling them off your legs. You helped him do this and took turns pulling your legs on to make it easier for him.

"Was that the picture in your head of distraction today?" you asked him with a light chuckle as he finally pulled the last piece of clothing off of you and was now going after his underwear.

"Quite possibly," he answered your question and sat back on his heels as he finally got rid of the fabric. His excited member jumped up against his belly and beamed happily at you there. In your abdomen everything contracted at the thought that you were about to become intimate with each other and a little you were afraid that his penis would not fit inside you, after all it was huge and very thick, the vein on his penis already throbbing with excitement.

"Don't worry," Stiles whispered as he reached for his member and pumped it two or three times. "I'll make sure you're okay, I promise."

You nodded and watched as Stiles opened your legs a little wider. If you felt too naked earlier, you felt even more so now. Lying stark naked like that with your legs spread in front of a boy was very foreign to you, but you weren't afraid of Stiles. Just as he had said, if not with him, then with no one else.

Stiles fingers again traveled from your knee up along your inner thigh until he stopped at your vagina and took one deep breath. This was new to him too, he had never done this before either. He had only ever heard about it when the visitors to the castle talked about it, when they were once again in one of the certain houses in the village.

With one finger he collected your juices as he passed through your lips and stopped at your clitoris. An unknown feeling permeated your body as his finger came into contact with it. You too had heard of women and girls pleasuring themselves before, but you were too shy for that.

Stiles liked your reaction to his actions and so he repeated what he had just done, but made sure to pay more attention to your clit and rubbed it a little longer. With a moan, you arched your back up and pressed your hips more into Stiles' hand. Stiles grinned and watched you loll and stretch in his bed while he rubbed your clit as sensitively as he could with circular motions.

"Stiles," you moaned again and this time managed to say his name. Stiles could feel how he and his penis liked it too, because it twitched at your moan. He bit his lip and switched his fingers. With his thumb, he now rubbed your nub and carefully penetrated your vagina with one finger. A much louder moan escaped your lips and you couldn't control yourself anymore, so Stiles, although he didn't like to do that now, had to pray you to be a little quieter. After all, he didn't want to get caught and enjoy every minute with you.

"Please," you begged, pushing your hips further and further into his hand so that Stiles now had his finger completely engulfed and was slowly starting to pump with it. He loved the feeling of your warm walls around his finger and he wondered how it would feel to add another one. So carefully he played around with your hole with another finger until he inserted this one and was now making scissor-like motions inside you with two fingers. "Don't stop," he heard you whimper softly and saw your hand resting on your breast, playing with your nipple. It turned him on much more and he was sure he wanted to do it much more often.

Stiles felt your walls start to spasm around his fingers and he increased the pace of his fingers inside you and also on your clit. The combination of the two eventually managed to spread through your entire body, starting in the tips of your feet, a twitching and insanely crazy sensation, something you had never experienced before and you were sure that Stiles had just created your first orgasm. The sensation became so enormous that you had to literally slap Stiles' hand off of you and catch your breath.

Stiles could see the sweat on your forehead, your chest was also shining in the light of the fire and was covered with a light layer of sweat. He grinned, proud of himself for having just done that to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than ever," you replied, pulling him back over you to kiss him. Stiles laid back between your legs as you did so, wrapping one of them around his waist. You could feel his aroused member seeking its way between your now wet lips. Your hips moved with his and that alone was enough to get a moan out of Stiles. He detached himself from your lips and looked between your bodies for a moment before taking his penis in his hand and gently pushing it into the entrance of your vagina.

You immediately felt that this was a little more uncomfortable than his fingers had been just a moment ago, but since you were still so marked and wet from your high, you again pushed your hips towards him and watched as his penis disappeared and penetrated further and further inside you. You could feel a slight tugging in your genital area and so you squeezed your eyes shut a bit. Stiles noticed this immediately and stopped his movements to make sure you were okay.

"Everything's okay, I just have to get used to it. Keep going," you whispered and nodded to show him that everything was really okay.

So Stiles continued, penetrating you further and further until he was completely engulfed in you. He struggled with it too, because the feeling was way too powerful for him too. You were so tight that he felt like he was already going to burst at any moment and he didn't know how he could move even an inch further without coming immediately.

Carefully he shifted his weight to his right arm and stroked your cheek with his left hand, watching you as your face slowly relaxed and you opened your eyes again. You grinned at him, letting him know everything was okay. "Please Stiles, move. I can't take this anymore."

"As you wish," he murmured, pulling his hips back until his penis was almost completely out of you again before thrusting once deep inside you. Stiles and you both moaned at the same time, the sensation too much for the two of you. If you thought that felt great earlier, you were completely wrong. Stiles' penis was filling you much better than his fingers and he was reaching places inside you that he couldn't reach earlier.

The room filled with the sound of bare skin hitting each other over and over again and the moans from both of you. Stiles silenced you by putting his lips on yours and kissing you. However, the kiss was far too sloppy as you both concentrated on making love.

You now wrapped your other leg around his waist as well and he penetrated you even deeper, the moan from him you successfully engulfed with your lips, though you couldn't help it either and broke away from him to whimper loudly once yourself. "Damn that feels good," he groaned, dropping his head on your chest.

His slow movements were slowly turning into fast and shorter thrusts and he had to lean on both arms again to keep going like this. Stiles felt himself getting closer and closer to his own orgasm. He already knew the feeling, more often he had given it to himself. You too could feel his thrusts getting sloppier, but still, thanks to the new position of your legs around his hips, he was hitting new places in you that made you feel way too good.

"Come with me, Y/N, please come with me, I can't take much more," Stiles begged, resting his forehead on yours. He looked deep into your eyes while one of his hands found its way between you and he was now playing with your clit again. You let out a painful whimper as you realized what this was doing to you. With one last effort, you struggled not to close your eyes and let yourself go here and now and looked him in the eyes as well. Your walls caved in around Stiles’ dick as the knot grew tighter. Your toes curled and you held the sheet beneath you as tight as you could as your release came over you. You let go of the knot, letting your nerves ignite with pleasure, screaming for Stiles as you rolled your eyes.

Stiles couldn't hold it in any longer either and shot his entire load he had into you. Your juices dripping out of you as he continued his pace and his eyes closed. His whole body shook with pleasure. Your senses are overfilling as his cock twitches inside and you could feel exactly that he had just come.

He stopped inside you, his heart beating loudly and forcefully against your chest as he carefully laid himself on top of you. "Damn," he groaned, wiping the sweat from your forehead once with the back of his hand.

You stroked his bare back with your hands while you both steadied your breathing again and slowly your pulse returned to normal. But still, you felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest, not from excitement, but from love for the boy who had just taken your virginity.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"My heart belongs only to you, no matter what," you confessed to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Stiles turned his head so he was looking at you and smiled at you. He pressed his lips to yours and kissed you again before saying, "You've had mine for years."

Taglist: @woahcrowley @spideysimpossiblegirl allisonargentswifey8 @roxic93@stiles-stark

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski au #stiles stilinski series #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #teen wolf #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien series #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan x reader

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choicesficwriterscreations · 1 year

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CFWC Writer of the Month: the-pale-goddess

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @the-pale-goddess! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: the-pale-goddess Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I downloaded Choices in an extremely terrifying moment of my life in late 2019. I was seeing the ads everywhere and thought that this game might serve as a fairly decent distraction. Well, I wasn’t wrong skfjksjfk

I’m not sure which one was actually the first, but it was either the default TRR or Save The Date promoted at that time.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

My obsession with Open Heart and Ethan Ramsey tied nicely with the release of the second book in 2020. The lockdown allowed me to explore this fictional world further, so I started looking for more content. I found the legendary Denise, aka @justanotherrookie, while lurking on IG. That’s when my long-forgotten Tumblr account came to my mind, and I logged in with the intention of scrolling through the tags to satisfy my EJR thirst.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

Oh, dear…It’s very silly! My skin is extremely pale and I have always been obsessed with music; hence the combo.

Fun fact: this account is quite old (though still not as old as my tumbroke card; I had like three other accounts before this one), and I was slightly embarrassed to enter a new fandom with my dusty aesthetic blog signed by some ominous name, but decided to go with the flow. Then the-pale-goddess has become my brand, and it was too late for any changes–anyone who has changed their URL knows how problematic blogging is afterward.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

My first fandom post was inspired by the frustrating ending of the softball chapter AND the first hiatus announcement…It didn’t age well. As we all know, Ethan & MC didn’t ‘talk about it.’ What’s more, we had to survive a long OH drought before PB decided to resume the second book.

Three years later, the very same shitpost is still the most popular Choices post on my silly little blog lol

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

3 years, fanfiction is my pandemic baby! Though I’ve been writing since I was a kid, it was mostly poetry and never in English. But as time passed, I got more occupied with my teenage life and eventually lost motivation to write. That old passion resurfaced several years later, at the beginning of the pandemic. Apart from the obvious need for distraction from the COVID situation, I was frustrated that my English skills were getting rusty, so I decided to dive in.

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

No surprise here: Open Heart (the first book) and Open Heart 😂 I never tried writing about any other Choices book.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

Miami Heat aka my smutty Miami AU. The concept is brilliant, but the execution…Yikes! I often think of rewriting the entire thing because the writing is amateur at best and my inner perfectionist cringes whenever I think of this mini-series.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

It all depends on my mood, so here’s a list of my favorites!

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

Cabin Fever - apparently this 69 plotless smut is iconic for some reason? I don’t really get the hype. It has an insane amount of kudos on ao3, my other fics can’t compare lol

Burnt - Book 1 mutual pining E&T classic and one of my absolute favorites (we’re talking top 3); it could definitely use a little more love!

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I’ll shock you all and say that I wish I could write fluff for the rest of my life kjgkdgjkdf But since I suck at it, I’d love to be stuck with angst and a dash of smut.

It’s probably a sad thing to admit, but I feel the most comfortable while writing angst. The realism of pain and the emotions that follow are simply very familiar, and it’s easy for me to conjure up a creative image to match the idea. Besides, there’s so much to explore in the angsty realm: all the flavor, nuance, layers, and symbolism. The possibilities are endless!

Smut doesn’t need an explanation, does it? I live on the thirst street 🤡

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I do. That’s probably why Open Heart got me sucked right in–OH MC felt very real and relatable, I couldn’t help but see bits of myself in her. Though we share many traits and experiences, Tiffany definitely isn’t an extension of me. I poured my heart and soul into this woman, but she has become her own person and I try to avoid self-projecting into her character unless there’s a clear purpose.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Recently, I have been struggling with writing in general lol The internet is ruthless!

My biggest issue is that self-loathing perfectionist who doesn’t let me enjoy the process, nothing seems to be good enough for her, and that attitude dims my motivation and hinders creativity.

On a more technical note, I absolutely suck at describing basic movement. I could churn out a long essay on a character’s internal struggle explaining the most complex emotions or a 4K elaborate smut, but when it comes to finding the right words to portray the simplest action, like walking down the stairs or setting the scene for an early morning conversation at the hospital, I feel lost kdhdkhdkdb

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Pretty much all of my WIPs are neglected 🤡 But here are the most important projects I’m hoping to finish at some point in the not-too-distant future:

Home With You AU

Past, Present, Future

My Way Home Is Through You

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Since fanfic is based on an existing work of fiction, and the core plotlines and characters should be well-known to the readers, I guess it could be a tedious and confusing read for someone who isn’t involved in the fandom. But then I have received comments from people unfamiliar with OH who have stumbled upon my fics and gave them a chance, so maybe I’m wrong lol

I like to think that I would be okay with sharing my works with someone I know and trust in real life, but let’s be honest: my crippling anxiety would stop me ksjfkjssd However, if I were to pick a fic rec, I’d choose Heaven Upside Down AU because it doesn’t need an extensive OH knowledge. Plus, I’m very proud of this series.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

While I try to keep my writing style unique and simply mine, there are three lovely ladies who had a huge impact on my writing journey:

@writinghereandthere (aka an actual genius and my writing role model) was the direct source of inspiration behind my fanfic revelation. I fell in love with Ethan and Mariana, Ana’s beautiful prose, her wit, unparalleled talent, and fantastic characterization. Her writing changed the trajectory of my life. Though she left the fandom long ago, her masterlist is a must-read for everyone, trust me! (Ana, if you’re reading this: I miss you more than words can convey. Sorry for the spam I leave in your inbox every now and then skgjksgjk Hope to hear about your original work soon ❤️)

@starrystarrytrouble & @terrm9 - these two literary geniuses have inspired me to follow my own writing path and develop a distinctive style. Their masterpieces offer poetic, raw emotions, encouraging me to allow myself more creative freedom. I’m in constant awe of their unmatched talent and come back to their works whenever I want to feel things ❤️

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Can I have all of them, please?

I would pay all my money to watch a TV series based on my canon OH plotline…I’m not kidding, I even made a bunch of Netflix edits because I need it in my life. On the other hand, my precious AUs would look amazing on the big screen! The most scrumptious one still hasn’t left my head though, so you have to trust me–the cinematic potential is truly there kdgjkdgjk 17- Do you write original fiction?

I have a few ideas, but they’re so complex I’m stuck on the outlining phase. Mayhaps one day?

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

I’m a certified music freak and a cinephile. I practice destroying male egos on a daily basis. I love photography, niche sports, playing with my dog, lifting people’s moods, random unhinged facts, and ignoring reality, and I have just entered my skincare expert era.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

🥰 + ✨ + 💀

These three emojis perfectly encapsulate who I am as a person, I think: full of love and magic, but also dead inside ksjgksjgks

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I’d like to thank our lovely admins for giving me this exciting opportunity to ramble about my tiny corner on this hellsite and showcase my word vomit. My heart is full of gratitude! I may not be as active as I used to be, and real life doesn’t allow me to change that, but our fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and I feel very lucky to be a part of this community. Thank you for still putting up with me and supporting my fictional world ❤️❤️❤️

#cfwc writer of the month #open heart #the-pale-goddess #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #writer of the month #tiffany addams

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leahrocky · 15 days

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The Pan-Dimensional Frisbee - pt 1.

I decided to list out all the hidden references / easter eggs I included in this story bc I had too much fun with it and I wanted to make sure anyone who was curious could see hahaha. So, if you'd like a deep dive into my pop-culture obsession... read below

Chapter One Title: "Across the Potterverse"

“We could be anywhere . We could die! Or worse, I could be fired,” Hermione said, fumbling with the grey frisbee now that she’d been shielded from the mud. “Do I need to say it again?” Ron demanded.

“there could be a universe out there that’s every bit the same as ours, except that shrimp don’t exist, or a universe where only shrimp exist—“

“What is he, then?” Ron asked. Hermione just frowned, focusing on the PDF again, and biting her lips to bite back the word. “Say it,” Ron said. “Out loud.” “Vampire,” Hermione said.

Hermione picked up a stack of papers, and read aloud, “Hogwarts Paper Company. We never let sleeping dragons lie.”

Where their fingers had once been, were now, what looked to be, wands . They were jointed where all the knuckles should have been, and ended in a familiar pointed tip. Wooden fingers, like a puppet’s.

Harry had never seen in the Hogwarts he knew. There were glass boxes erupting from turrets, like strange additional rooms and spaces. Instead of the gargoyles at the front, large whirring metal cameras turned on a constant swivel, and the grounds, instead of being empty and sprawling, were filled with strange looking obstacle courses that reminded Harry of an old muggle war movie he’d seen.

She placed the aluminium packet on the table, and a glass dome rolled over it. Only a second later, the dome rolled away, and a full sandwich, alongside a fresh looking salad, appeared where the aluminium had been.

"don’t think I’d marry Cho. I mean, she’s lovely and all, but, no."

"Are we all still going to Nox’s afterwards?” Draco asked. “You still owe me a glass of Prosecco.” (this is a reference to an author i absolutely adore, NoxNoir :) I wanted to put them in the story in a fun little way. @ghostofnoir)

Chapter 2: Once More, With Feeling

You are about to enter another dimension… existing beyond time and space, and directly parallel to the universe of our previous story, a perfect identical match, except for one significant difference:

"Scared, Potter?” Draco asked. “You wish.”

Because right outside, instead of the ordinary muggle street he was sure he’d find, Harry saw the surface of the moon. (so, I decided to use inspiration from the movie Zathura for this dimension, and this dimension is actually supposed to be like a parallel universe travellers' like "safe zone" lmao. So if Harry and Draco just stayed there, they would have been fine. And it's why the fridge was covered in magnets... they were magnets from parallel universes)

On close inspection, they looked to be the sort of souvenir magnets typically sold in airports. All of them sported the name of some city, places like Los Cabos, Boston, Tokyo, and Frankfurt. Alongside places with names such as The Republic of Gilead, and Panem, that Harry wasn’t sure were real, as far as he was aware. However, the most shocking one of all was surely the one that said Diagon Alley, in glittery silver lettering, which Harry found himself staring at for several seconds.

His hair, still that same platinum blond, was spiked up, in a way that reminded Harry of some singer whose name he couldn’t remember. (this is a double reference, lmao, because it's a reference to my main canon rewrite series where a character frequently compares Draco to the singer Billy Idol) (which is actually a reference to how Spike in Buffy gets compared to Billy Idol / Spike is a character whose redemption arc/enemies-to-lovers arc i find to have a lot in common w/ what I want for Draco)

“You know,” Harry said, steps slow, “I think we’re in London. And I think… I think that’s David Bowie—” (This is probably the most self-indulgent reference on the list lmao. Bc.... this universe is actually a universe from another fic I've written for another fandom lmao...)

“Two Blue Lagoons,” he said, the first name he landed on. ... "Well?” Harry asked as Draco grimaced. “How is it?” “Tastes like a hangover,” Draco said. (this is referencing a line from that fic--- "Eddie does get their next drinks. Blue shots called Blue Lagoons that taste full of sugar and the promise of a hangover.")

"Hey, hey, settle a bet for me, woudja?” the man asked, accent so American it almost hurt. “See my buddy over there,” he said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to some other man, who looked, from what Harry could guess, embarrassed, “he’s all outta wack because a few of your fellow countrymen ruffled his feathers, talking about werewolves in the moors. I told him they were just a bunch of hot air, but I think it’s still bugging him. So, I just thought I’d get a second opinion—-confirm that’s just something you say to mess with tourists, ain’t it?” the man said, finally finishing the sudden diatribe. (like I said, this is one of the main characters from that other fic of mine.... which is another doubled reference I'm so sorry lmao...) (because that fic was inspired by the opening of An American Werewolf in London... so this is the context)

“Besides,” Draco said, dropping his voice to a whisper that made Harry lean in to hear him, “there are pixies in the moors.”

“Pixies,” the man said, when his laughter finally subsided. “Ain’t that the name of a band?” (this is a reference to a line Richie says in my other fic: "Rumors? Ain’t that a Fleetwood Mac album?” Richie asks.)

"And then, to Harry’s horror, Hannah began to sing. "I’ve got a theory that it’s a demon… a dancing demon,” she sang, “ no something isn’t right there. ”

Chapter 3: Ron of the Dead

"You've... you've got red on you," Draco said, pointing to a swipe of red—blood, probably— on Harry's hand.

“Oh… name was Brian. Brian Dumbledore”

#drarry #harry potter #fanfic #draco malfoy #dracoandthehounds

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whentherewerebicycles · 4 months

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was kinda nervous about this last meeting with my direct report because I had to pitch a semi-radical rewriting of both of our job descriptions to her and wasn’t sure how she would feel about it or if she would be comfortable saying no if she really hated the idea. but I think I did a good job of setting up for the conversation—just like giving her all the info in advance, asking her to take time to think about it and reflect on which parts of her current role she really didn’t want to give up + what she felt was missing/wanted more of from her work life, and then making clear that 1) this was just one of several possible directions we could go and 2) I’d already made it clear to my boss that we weren’t going to make sweeping role changes without input from everyone involved. I think it went really well… she was really excited to talk about what she wants to do more of in her work slash which of her skills she thinks are being underutilized in the current role, and we ended up drafting a new draft position description together in our meeting that she seemed super excited about. PHEW!!!! I mean I assume that sometimes when you’re managing people you just have to tell them to do things and accept that they may not be thrilled about it, but in this case there actually was room for us to brainstorm together and negotiate the bigger picture stuff and I got the impression that she felt really happy about being included in the process. so I think it was good for building trust between us and securing buy-in on her part as we navigate this big shift and also just making sure she understands the why behind it (and feels like she was part of articulating that why). so yeah that all felt good!!! there are some personality differences between us slash little places where I’m sure we kinda grate on each other but I think on the whole we really work well together and I feel lucky to have her on my team.

#I also just value like #big and small moments in working relationships where you can demonstrate that you are worthy of trust #I always thought about that with students #you can talk as nice as you want or act like a sweet friendly lady or whatever #but people watch what you do and how you treat them and how you make decisions or exercise your authority over them #and (as with students) I am trying to build up lots of big and small moments where I am using my authority responsibly #and demonstrating respect for the other person #I just want to be consistent you know #I want what you see to be what you get in terms of being treated fairly and in a calm non-reactive manner #and in a way that actively solicits the person’s input #anyway! just wanted to record a small success/learning moment that was fun to figure out how to navigate

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gaybae1021 · 9 months

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as a katelyn fan I must ask what are you’re plans for her in your diaries rewrite?

Thank you for the ask!

I’ll save most of her backstory for another time, and keep it mostly to her actual role in the story.

Context: The Jury is a lot more of a “hostage mercenary” situation. Plenty of them are willing to do the dirty work for the status and money, but for the “softer” members, O’Khasis has ways of keeping them in line.

Context: Teony is the Golden Heart instead of Jeffory.

Context: Katelyn and her brothers are half-elves on their mother’s side.

Season 1- Katelyn starts off very similar to canon, arriving to Phoenix Drop as a member of the Jury. S1 largely focuses on the tensions between O’Khasis and Phoenix Drop, and Katelyn showing up is a big raising of the stakes. Despite her intimidating appearance and demeanor, she acts amicable, and doesn’t seem in a rush to bring Garroth home. Even if she’s obviously been sent there as a show of force, she does a lot to ingratiate herself to the village and Aphra. So when Katelyn “reveals” herself to be a double agent, Aphra believes her. Katelyn gets Aph to come with her to O’Khasis under the guise of gathering intel. Their stealth mission is easy (almost too easy) because of course Katelyn is actually leading her into a trap (oh man, a double betrayal). Katelyn is just about to kill her when she finds Teony’s spear. Shaken by this, she rushes to Teony’s home, finding it burned to the ground. Katelyn, previously acting calm cool and collected, attacks the nearest O’Khasis guards she sees (triple betrayal!) and is apprehended and arrested. Aphra, despite being thoroughly confused about Katelyn’s intentions, breaks her out of prison, and after some prying, gets Katelyn to talk, learning of Katelyn’s plan to kill her, her situation in the jury, and her relationship to Teony.

Katelyn manages to get a message to her family to flee O’Khasis, now that she’s a traitor. She’s grateful to Aph for freeing her, and shares O’Khasis’s plans to invade Phoenix Drop. She’s sure Aphra wouldn’t want her in Phoenix Drop, but knowing what Katelyn has gone through and seeing she has nowhere else to go, Aph offers her a place in the village. Katelyn agrees, and promises to help her prepare the village for invasion as best she can.

Once in PD, Katelyn finds herself ill-equipped to domestic life, and almost immediately joins the guards, despite their suspicion of her. She holds true to her word, teaching the guards how to combat O’Khasis battle strategy and playing a key role in the battle. Despite earning back the trust of Phoenix Drop, Katelyn is still considering moving on. That is, until the Irene Dimension.

Season 2- After the timeskip, Katelyn’s first mission is finding her family. With her MIA for ten years, she figures it’s safe to see them again. There’s some trial and error but her Aph and Laurance eventually find them. Here Aph and Laurance finally see her walls come down around her family. Katelyn is torn between staying with her family and going back to Phoenix Drop. But Aph and Laurance put aside everything to come with her and help her family, and with Garroth gone and everything destabilized she feels it’s her duty to fill his role as best she can. So throughout season 2, she’s the group heavy hitter in combat and their rock emotionally. Unlike the others she wasn’t particularly close to Garroth, and honestly her jumping forward ten years probably was a net positive for her, considering she likely would’ve been hunted down by O’Khasis otherwise. So in regards to all the dimension nonsense, she’s actually doing alright, comparatively. But that doesn’t mean she’s doing alright overall.

Katelyn got severe PTSD during her time in the jury, basically cutting off her emotions completely in order to keep doing her job. She refused to open up to her family about it. She had accepted the position to support them financially, and she wouldn’t risk their safety or burden them with her problems. The only person that could get through to her was Teony. She initially tried to intimidate Katelyn into quitting, but once she learned Katelyn was already in too deep she switched to helping Katelyn through it as best she could. There were definitely feelings on both sides, but obviously teaming up on constant murder missions isn’t really conducive to healthy romance. The trauma bonding and codependency is real for those two. Teony dying affects Katelyn deeply, it was essentially her only support system being ripped away from her in the worst way possible. Her complicated feelings about Teony haunt her for the rest of the series.

I’ll admit my brain has completely scrambled the events of season 2. I remember key moments but who was there and when they happened are all gone, and I’m not rewatching to get it right. So I’m putting stuff in order in the way it makes most sense for the character arcs. So for Katelyn it’s:

Meeting Travis- Katelyn in her “I’m cool and everything’s fine” mode. Largely things play out as canon, including losing Dimitri and Naoko and Travis killing imp Teony. First hint to the audience that Katelyn isn’t nearly as over things as she said she was. After this her role on the island in largely related to Travis’s crush on her, which eventually culminates to Travis confessing as they sail out and Katelyn giving a “Im flattered but I’m twice your age and gay soooo no.” Aph tries to get her to open up more about Teony but Katelyn deflects.

Ivy fight- Wow, maybe Katelyn isn’t okay actually. Ivy basically insults her for having a moral compass and goads her into a fight by sharing details of and mocking Teony’s death. The fight initially goes well for Katelyn, but unfortunately Ivy is able to wound her, and like her title suggests, Venom Scythe is packing some serious toxins. And no Irene healing powers in my version.

Elf arc- Im going to keep this brief as I’ll probably go into this stuff more with a dedicated elf post, but the only way Katelyn even has a shot at surviving is being taken to Yggdrasil, and even with elven healing she doesn’t escape the fight unscathed (I have drawn the results in one of my posted pieces, if anyone feels like a scavenger hunt, just note it’s a piece with her new design). During her healing process, Katelyn finally unpacks things with Zoey’s help. Her childhood, her actions in the jury, her relationship with Teony, and her relationship with her new team. She recognizes how much her violent actions in the Jury hurt others and herself, so maybe being unable to fight will be better for everyone. At the same time she’s defined herself all her life by the ability to fight, and now she might never be as strong again. She’s afraid that if she’s not useful, Aphra and Laurance won’t need her anymore.

Zoey assures Katelyn that the team cares about her for her, not any of her abilities. And that violence is a tool, not something inherently evil or corruptive. What matters is what goal ones violence goes towards, and Zoey points out that Katelyn has always fought to defend her family and friends, which is admirable. At the same time, it’s a heavy burden to carry, and Katelyn needs to trust her team to also defend her, especially during this new learning period.

The wolf tribe- I think Katelyn meeting Abby after her therapy arc works best. She’s found a healthier relationship with her past, and now Abby represents her hope for the future.

Season 3- I haven’t fleshed out season 3 much, but I know Katelyn and Nicole will get together sometime during.

I think the symbolism has made it pretty obvious, but the ultimate plan is that Katelyn will eventually wield Menphia’s relic (The Warrior, instead of The Fury) likely getting it from a rematch with Ivy now that she has the power of therapy on her side. Garroth and her are both incredibly strong fighters, but where Garroth’s abilities are defensive Katelyn’s are for raw damage dealing and increased options during battle.

I’ve never liked the saying “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” I much prefer “The fact that you’ve been through so much and you’re still fighting is a testament to your inner strength” and I that describes the core of Katelyn’s character. She’s the one who will never give in, who will fight for as long as it takes.

A song I’ve had on that always makes me think of her

#aphmau #aphblr #aphverse #mcd #minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #Aphmau mcd #mcd katelyn #aphmau katelyn

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