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charliehoennam · 2 days

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sweet stranger

A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading

Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.

You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.

The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.

You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.

Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.

Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.

Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.

After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.

The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.

The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.

Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.

You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.

Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.

The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.

It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.

"You must be Mr. Solomons."

"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."

His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.

"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."

"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.

Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.

Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.

"May I take your coat, love?"

"Yes, please."

You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavious decoration of the suite never fails to impress.

Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.

Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.

But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.

Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.

If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.

The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.

Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.

Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.

He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.

It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.

"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"

"Not often. Clouds the mind."

"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.

"Wine is my favorite."

"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."

Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.

You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.

After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.

You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.

No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.

As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"

"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."

It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.

"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."

With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.

"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.

The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.

You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.

"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."

Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.

"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."

He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.

You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.

A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.

"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."

He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.

You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.

"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.

"No, love. Just flesh."

"Fortunately."

Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.

Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.

"How is that, sir? More pressure?"

"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."

"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.

Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.

The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.

Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.

"Is this alright?" You whisper.

"More than alright."

"I can go lower if you'd like me to."

He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.

"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."

You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.

You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.

"Would you like me to touch you?"

You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.

You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.

Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.

As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.

The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.

"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.

He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.

"L-love, you feel so good."

You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.

"You're fucking beautiful, sir."

"Oh, you think so, yeah?"

You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.

"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.

He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.

"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"

His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.

"May I?"

You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.

His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.

"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.

The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.

You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.

Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.

The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.

"It's gonna be a long night."

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #tom hardy

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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AITA for not inviting a friend's fiance to my birthday event?

So, for context, I (23X) have a small but tightly-knit friend group. Perhaps unusually, three of us share the exact same birthday. Jay (23M, name changed) is two hours older than me, and a second friend who is not particularly relevant to this story was born on the same day a year after Jay and me.

Jay is engaged to Ally (28F, name also changed). Most of my friends don't like Ally for a variety of reasons, and she's not really friends with any of us besides Jay.

Now, for my birthday, I had specific plans that I had wanted to make. I recognize that as I share my birthday with two friends, I needed to consider their feelings when making plans so I scheduled it after the date and told them if they wanted to do something for their birthdays as well, that was absolutely fine. The main event was an escape room. I gave the group 3-4 weeks notice to get a final headcount and then reserved the room for that number.

However, long after I had made the reservation for the room, Jay messaged me and asked if Ally could come along. I told him no, and while he was polite I could tell he was upset, so I told him she was welcome to come to dinner with us afterwards (which I was not happy about, but I felt like I needed to compromise).

Here's why I think I might not be TA: Ally does not enjoy spending time with us, and we don't particularly like spending time with her. Furthermore, I had made it clear that once I had made the reservation it couldn't be changed, and he had plenty of time to figure out if Ally would come before I made it.

Here's why I think I might be TA: Ultimately, as no other plans were made this is functioning as the birthday event for all three of us, and Ally is Jay's fiance. I feel a bit bad for excluding her from what is functionally Jay's birthday party. Also...I wasn't fully honest with Jay. While it's true that I can't modify the room reservation, it is POSSIBLE that a separate ticket for Ally could be bought since I didn't reserve the room for its maximum capacity.

So, Tumblr, AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

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pinkandlilacroses · 16 hours

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Angel - Paige bueckers

part 5

• summary {in which an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

• warnings {angst, mention of sexual acts}

• comment if you would like to be added to the taglist

“i shouldn’t have done that�� was the last things she said, before running out of my dorm

what the fuck. she has feelings for me? do i have feelings for her to. i need to find her

‘bella’ has unblocked ‘paige’

bella

- paige where are you

- paige please talk to me

- please

- where are you

- answer me

- i’m coming to your dorm

i slam my bedroom door shut, this is all happening so fast. she was ignoring me and now she likes me????

what?

“paige is know your in here” i say while banging on her door

“bella leave me alone” she says, door still shut

“paige let me in” i say, almost begging the girl

she opens the door, teary eyed

“paige” i say, my tone shifting completely, turning soft and calm.

“you dont need to talk to me, pretend i never said that” she says, tears streaming

“i want to talk to you”

“you just feel bad”

“i feel the same” i say, partially shocking myself, shes all i’ve been thinking about for weeks. maybe i like her and maybe i want her to be more than just a one time thing. and hearing that she feels the same, relive flooded my body. i’m not delusional, she feels the same

“no you don’t” she says

“why don’t you believe me paige, your all i can think about” i say, walking towards her and the dorm room shuts

“you were ignoring me”

“i was ignoring you cause you were doing the same” i say

“i was ignoring you cause i like you”

“i like you to” i say, genuinely

“i cant like you” she says, tears forming in her eyes again

“why cant you paige” i say, completely erasing any space between us and lightly stroking her bare arm

no response

“paige” i say, looking up at her, shes not looking at me

“paige answer me” i say, my own tears making an appearance in my eyes

“i cant bella, i want to, but i cant”

“you cant what”

“i cant be with you, ever” she says, each word breaking my heart further. confusion is an understatement to how i’m feeling right now

“then why would you say what you said paige” i say, anger arising

“it was a mistake” she says, her emotions emulating my own

“this is fucking ridiculous” i say, breaking away from her and throwing my arms up in defeat

she drags my arm, so i’m back in my original position

“i didn’t say i wanted you to leave” she says, timid

i want to stay, i really do. but shes just gonna fuck me over again, and i’d let her

“why so you can fuck me and never speak to me again!” i say, fuming at the blonde

“im sorry” she says, voice raising to my level

“it was a mistake and you know that” she continues

“how many fucking mistakes do you make paige, cause i can list plenty” i say, rudely

i can see tears forming in her eyes, and i can feel my eyes doing the same. fuck

“don’t cry” she says, her own voice breaking from emotions

“paige is really like you, why are you doing this to me” i ask, letting my tears fall

“im so sorry bella, but i cant do it, i wish i could but i cant”

“whats the reason paige? what do you want from me” i ask, emotions at an all time high

“hey guys” azzi and avery say

fuck

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn #azzi fudd

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 1 day

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The reason why ladybug lied to the world about Gabriel helping her defeat monarch was for a few reasons.

To "protect" Adrien from the truth

To actually protect Adrien from people accusing him of knowing his father was Monarch but doing nothing or worse willingly working with him. Which could threaten his safety

Would have been extremely difficult to explain away Gabriel coincidentally dying the same day Monarch was defeated without the implication that he was monarch, especially with the public being aware that the alliance Rings were involved in Monarch's final battle

The whole point of Season 4 was that Ladybug had to learn to stop keeping secrets from her allies, so why is it now okay for her to keep a huge secret from her boyfriend of all people? And you say it like Adrien doesn't have friends and family who can help him cope with his emotions and grow as a person.

So the public wouldn't even buy Ladybug's explanation that Adrien wasn't an accomplice for Monarch, even though she's in good graces with pretty much everyone in the world?

There were plenty of other ways to cover up Gabriel's death, like saying he was caught in the crossfire, or he was crushed by debris. Hell, just say Monarch was able to hack into the Alliance ring system behind Gabriel's back to tie up that loose end.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch

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heliads · 1 day

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Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme: kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect.

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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ecoterrorist-katara · 2 days

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2, 19, and 20 for the fandom asks!

heyyyy thanks for the ask!

2. My favorite fic from the fandom that I’ve read

I LOVE SO MANY!!! let’s narrow it to three…I’m a huge fan of crushinator’s Half Asleep and eleventy7’s Once Around the Sun, but if I had an icicle to my head and had to pick just one, I’d say colourwhirled’s Southern Lights. All three fics rival published books to me, but Southern Lights embodies a lot of things I love about fanfiction as a literary tradition (distinct from original fiction). It’s very, very long, which means we have plenty of time to dive into how different characters grow in a way that’s very difficult outside of long series. Katara’s journey is at the centre of Southern Lights, obviously, but we see a lot from Zuko, Sokka, Azula, Toph, Aang…I’ve compared it to A Song of Ice and Fire before for this reason. Because it’s a full AU, it also takes advantage of our knowledge of canon and works it into something very different, so there’s plenty of “ohhhhh so this is where x happens” and you get that delight of both familiarity and newness. Also the themes of colonialism, trauma, reconciliation, and oppression from your enemies vs oppression from your own people are done in a super mature way. There are no easy answers in Southern Lights, but I feel like the author trusts the reader to grapple with those complexities.

19. Favorite headcanon

Momtara and Dadko for the Gaang! I love the idea that Zuko helps her with chores in the Western Air Temple as a way of regaining her favour, and then he just keeps doing it. We love an equitable distribution of domestic labour.

20. Least favorite headcanon

I like Fire Lady Katara, and I’ve defended it before, but I don’t like the version of the headcanon where the people of the Fire Nation think she’s a savage / peasant and she has to get etiquette lessons and learn to be a FN noblewoman to get respect. I think Katara would sooner pull the “I won the throne so watch your mouth” card than to defer to people who think her culture is inferior, particularly because we don’t have any indication from canon that the Water Tribes are especially looked down upon (more than, say, the Earth Kingdom). And as much as I like Fire Lady Katara, I prefer United Republic Councilwoman Katara or Chief Katara. Both are obviously harder to execute so I understand why fic writers don’t go for them, but I have a serious soft spot for fics that depict her in those ways.

#can i ask you a question?#zutara #Zutara fic recs

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shut-up-danny-kun · 5 hours

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I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.

Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?

I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...

Or...is he?

Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.

Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.

Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.

“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”

To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.

So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.

It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.

#star trek tos #spirk #s'chn t'gai spock #spock #tos spock #character analysis #dannytypes #takes

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cherrirui-official · 2 days

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Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 4/7)

Hell yeah we're over halfway done! Isn't that crazy? I don't have too much to say here sooooooo onto the usual stuff

I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

Designs under the cut!

VRISKA:

Vriska has an extra set of arms that they can retract and extract whenever they please. However, they usually keep those arms hidden.

The long needle she's holding is her trusty sword that she's used since her pirate days. She doesn't use it as much as she used too, but it's good to keep it on her for self defense in case of an emergency.

The marks on thier neck and shoulders aren't tattoos, they're birthmarks.

Good at sewing, as she often would have to fix her coat after getting into epic pirate sword fights. Sara and Vriska are sewing buddies!

It is unknown why they're unable to sleep, but while the rest of the team sleeps they often find themselves wandering around and doing whatever they want.

Artist's note: I based Vriska's design off the fact that I wanted to make her look like a bootleg version of the og Vriska. As in "Hey that's Vriska" but also "That's not VRISKA" if you get what I mean

MALL BINGO:

Trained herself to become resistant to poison (and by "trained" I mean she just ate a bunch of poison until her body became almost immune to it... please don't try this at home.)

Often goes scavenging for items when she's doesn't feel like robbing someone. If she's lucky enough she'll find some good items scattered around because "stupid trainers often leave good shit on the ground for some reason" (due to all the items you can pick up from the ground ingame lmao)

Mal lost her leg in one of her first heists, after she and another pawmi tried stealing from the wrong person at the worst possible time.

The gun she keeps with her wasn't originally hers, it belongs to someone else.

On a more positive note, Mal has plenty of stories and tall tales to share. She learned them from the eldest in her little pawmi group, as they would often tell her stories before going to sleep. Mal will often share those same stories with Peppy Jr and Mykyie Jr.

Can and will bite you. You won't be expecting it. Be warned.

GRUNPILO:

Due to his abundantly long hair, Grunpilo often lets Mal play around with it and style it however she wants.

It is unknown how or why he picked up on puppetry specifically, but it makes him happy so who are we to judge?

Speaking of which, he creates his own puppets by hand, from simple sock puppets to marionettes on strings. The two hand puppets shown are his favorite ones though.

Sometimes he'll be found speaking to them as if they're real.

Not good in social situations or confrontation, so Mal will sometimes have to speak for him. ("EXCUSE ME! He asked for no pickles!" /ref)

EXTREMELY light, very easy to pick up.

And that's all! Only three more batches left woo, hopefully I can finish them by the end of the year lol.

#Surprisingly Vriska took the most time to come up with but the least time to draw out #which i wasnt expecting bc i am NOT good at drawing spidops at all ough #but anyways here we are! More than halfway finished with the designs! yippee!!!#been wanting to finish this batch for a while now so its nice to finally get it done! hopefully the next batch doesnt take as long ahaha...#especially with Mal ik i keep bringin up Mal but I love the stuff i came up with for her aaaugh!!!#Also sorry if Grunpilo's looks a bit weird. i accidentally put him on the wrong side while drawing him and fixed it last minute oops #and i didnt wanna flip him bc his hair is supposed to be over that specific eye... oh well it is what it is #now TAGS yippee!!!!#cherris canvas #friendlocke #friendlocke violet #violet gijinka au #saltydkdan #cw needles

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couch-house · 2 years

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something thats been in my head for a long time abt vulnerability and comfort and echoes of the past

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #team dark #shth #sth #sonic the hedgehog #maria robotnik #fanart #id in alt text #dont tag this as ship idk why you would but pls dont #anyway hi the semester started and its kicking my ass immediately #threw the frog in the boiling water #ive wanted to do this for a long time tho so nows as good as any #something something reconciling 'i want x character to seek and receive comfort'#vs 'waht is reasonable comfort for him to seek?'#so he just doesnt like being alone sometimes. he used to sleep on her floor until she was like #'shadow knock it off and sleep in the bed i can make room'#she just throws her arm at him so he knows someones there. its plenty of comfort for him #anyway. shadow standing in the doorway at 2 am rouge i frew up

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deus-and-the-machina · 9 months

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I think an underlooked part of what shaped jin’s mindset was how even back in Torna, he was considered “property”. He and Lora spent their whole lives avoiding the authorities of Torna because they believed would straight up execute Lora to get Jin back, and no one ever denies it. and this has seemingly been a fear since Lora was a child. Jin had to hide his face everywhere he went. Maybe Torna wouldn’t have been cruel enough to execute a child, especially since the king seemed decent(?) enough, if not a bit distant. But the fact it was even a fear at all for Lora since she was so young is just awful to think about.

According to his past self’s journals, Jin and his old driver fought in a war of independence for Torna, perhaps what made him a hero to begin with. and because he’s a war hero for deeds he doesn’t even remember, the kingdom considers him owned by them. Which is on the nose in two different ways ngl. Both in how the Blades are seen and a wider metaphor of soldiers/state. idk it’s just very sad to think about

#I think a lot of people (esp people who dont really interact with the actual story of 2) boil jins motives down to lora too often #like yes her death sent him spiraling but his actual motives dont like. actually have much to do with her directly. it contributed to his #bad mental state that allowed him to get to that point but he still has plenty of reasons to hate how blades are treated and hes right!#its also why 'lora wouldn't have wanted this' doesnt really matter to him. yeah she wouldnt have. she's also been dead for ages so what does #it matter? like hes definitely not coping healthily mans is constantly retraumatizing himself by keeping her body around but like #he knows she's dead hes accepted it so hes doing better than N at least! jin hates being immortal but he stays alive to keep Loras memory #alive. but the longer he lives the more and more awful shit he sees and the more it breaks him. but he cant die bc then the only person left #who really knew lora would be gone (Minoth is alive too but he knew her for like several weeks at most alsfjakfjljfsa) and thats the curse #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #jin #siren says

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 year

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idk if this is still the case but when i was really In It in animorphs feelings a couple years ago because i was unemployed for the first time in my adult life / temporarily living alone in the last house my family lived in / freaking out about climate change / generally Going Through It, and like poking around the animorphs scene on tumblr, there was this notion commonly expressed that rachel and tobias were "toxic," the major piece of evidence for which was the scene in 33 where she "tries to trap him in human morph." which like first of all i'm SOOOOOO SORRRY that the fucking fifteen-year-olds secretly fighting a guerrilla war in which their greatest threat is the mind-controlling slugs they're trying to save humanity from but their second greatest threat is the diminishing hourglass of their collective sanity as they all have to work steadily harder and more desperately to not just completely lose their shit entirely from all the violence and literal 24/7 constant threat and murder that is happening, like i'm sorry two literal children who have managed in this ongoing horror show to forge a bond of loyalty and affection and care and attraction and understanding that can act as a kind of solace neither of them have any other way to access, sorry those actual murder babies sometimes have some communication problems. lmao. but also it's insane to me that people read that scene (in which they're dancing to, i'm not making this up, iris by the goo goo dolls - i mean they don't tell us the song but it's a slow goo goo dolls number that even tobias knows, so - they're dancing to iris by the goo goo dolls at a school dance that is not going well because they are both awkward about the newfound public Officialness of their relationship and rachel who is the only one of them who has ever been capable of socializing like a normal person is in a particularly bad mood because of the emotional hangover of her starfish adventure [great concept executed terribly in the previous book], and then like after two entire minutes of letting himself feel some nice emotions tobias spots the clock and starts leaving to go demorph and then rachel runs after to him to awkwardly attempt to share that she is very fucked up about how insane she has become and she wants to hold on to things like school dances and also this is all happening in a hallway by a student poster on red tailed hawks that states their lifespan of a handful of years in the wild, it's so good) as rachel trying to trap tobias in morph, when like, first of all, "good thing happening -> time to punish myself for feeling nice for 5 whole seconds " is like THEE tobias thought pattern because he's the number one kidlit trauma baby of all time, like truly the first time i dove back into the series i was struck by how well his narrative voice captures Child Of Insane Family Dysfunctionality, he is NOT a reliable narrator on this, but also second, and more saliently, like, believing this scene is rachel attempting to trap tobias in morph requires that you believe rachel, all by herself, made a plan in advance and then attempted to execute it, which is a skill we literally never see her demonstrate even one fucking time outside of the comfortingly familiar hunting ground of the mall

#animorphs #i have a hard visceral aversion to personally adopting ADHD headcanons in general #(you do you idc about people's headcanons but like #this is one that reliably does not do it for me [person with ADHD] and which also often makes me feel weird for vague reasons #but again like this is not an Argument or a Criticism have your fun it's simply not for me)#BUT. someone once said they headcanon rachel as ADHD.#and that is... the ONLY time i have ever read that and been like 'oh wow no okay yeah that tracks'#which honestly thinking on it now i feel like sort of helps me articulate why i'm usually like 'her?'#bc i feel like i tend to see it as like 'this would be cute/relatable/fun to project on to' (you do you not for me)#or i see it based on like... a perception of general ADHD Vibes #which like. on the one hand i get. there can be Vibes. there's a reason the set of people i Enjoy A Lot has ADHD overrepresented on it.#but personally i am like. but where are the scenes of them ruining their own life for reasons attributable to ADHD traits #i don't personally get anything out of lumping people into a DSM category with me if they are not also constantly ruining their own lives #like i can just relate to them because we have similar Vibes. that's plenty.#but rachel.................#the scenes of rachel constantly ruining her own life because of her inability to think for 5 seconds before speaking or acting ever. like.#that's in every book rachel ever has #she literally has a line at one point like 'i don't know why i say these things. they just pop out of my stupid mouth.' girl same...#anyway. speaking of ADHD. i have GOT to stop letting myself 'just check tumblr a little bit' while i'm waiting for the adderall to hit

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