Oct 1, 2025
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
i blacked out and wrote this to my boyfriend and now i’m going to sleep
i think if we were atoms at the beginning of the universe, i went exploring with you for a bit before we separated to be stars and then thunderstorms, maybe the dewdrops at the beginning, before we met here. i'd like to think your soul warmed mine before we could even comprehend it.
i think i'm going to delete this part just bc it breaks the flow too much but it's too funny not to share to some extent
[l.m.h wip] - selkie!au
You clutched the sand, lungs raw and aching as you coughed and coughed.
The moon glared harshly on you, the cold chill cutting your bones as you screwed your eyes shut once more. The sand dug into your side, like a thorn, irritating your already tender skin.
You couldn’t stand it, curling into yourself to try and spark some warmth. As you struggled to open your eyes, something shuffled next to you, placing a hand on your neck.
“She’s alive. You guys can rest.”
Your eyes cracked open, blurry and shaky. As you tried to focus, the shadow came into view, kneeling closer to you. You turned to them, vision slowly becoming clearer and clearer.
The stranger had beautiful brown hair that fell over his dark eyes, a sharp contrast to his skin, pale in the moonlight. He wore what seemed like a fur coat, moon illuminating individual stands on its sides, giving him an ethereal look. It felt almost like looking at a painting.
“They are enchanting, but they are also dangerous.”
“You took quite the dive there didn't you? You’re no good at swimming, almost quite like a newborn pup.” The look on his face spoke amusement, and although you tried to speak, nothing came out as he pushed you down.
The smell of salt and brine wafted from all directions, overwhelming you as more shadows appeared in the distance and got closer. He reached his arms out and pulled your eyelids over your eyes, humming a melody as a strange sense of comfort washed over you, despite the cold and rough surroundings.
You could feel his hands weaving through your hair, running circles on your scalp that made you tingle, exhaustion overcoming you as you tried to fight the feeling.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore matched the rhythm to his tune, and before you knew it, you had drifted off into a deep sleep.
⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰
maybe its just the Service Top in me but i really adore the little ways you can be affectionate with your Bottom like. hear me out.
- nuzzling and kissing against their throat as you’re buried deep inside
- carefully holding their head/neck up for them when it dips off the bed
- cooing little praises into their ear when you start going harder with them
- just in general rewarding them for being so good and sweet for you
- pulling them into a shower afterwards and washing them yourself
- kissing their arms and tummy and thighs as you dress them up
- tucking them close and running your hand over the parts you were rough with
- making them breakfast the next morning because they’re too sleepy
- checking in with them often, “is this okay, angel?” and “does it feel good?”
- making them feel GOOD about themselves, reminding them how cute they are all dressed up or down beneath you, telling them how pretty their sounds are
- just! loving your bottom at every opportunity!!
The place where yodelling began.....
Legend has it, that this place was the origin of Twilight's yodelling.
It all began on a dark foggy night and the wind was billowing around one shadowy figure. This figure wore a cowboy hat and boots paired with checked shirt and chaps covering his worn blue jeans. If you were to come closer you would find a young man in his teens, who stood at the centre of this place. The young man sure knew his way with a sword and he could show how to wrangle cattle, but his true passion lay elsewhere. A tune could be heard as he tapped his boot on the rocky ground as the time struck midnight. His blonde hair getting whipped by the wild wind, he broke into song or what many people have come to know as the Lone wolf's yodel. What happened after he had finished his song remains a mystery.
Many years have passed since that day and it still the end remains untold. But, many have said to have heard this very yodel as they pass through the area. These people have mentioned that they've not seen any sign of the young man being there, but there has often been sightings of a wolf sat in his place. The wolf hasn't harmed anyone and it is common for it to help weary travellers find their way to civilisation.
If you have any more information regarding this local legend then please let me know!
@linkeduniverse-incorrect @castletownranger
Co-written with Flight_of_Icarus on AO3. For a prompt by @thecitylightshow. Find it here! ~~~
His madre was always right.
Always.
It scared him, seeing her stare into the distance sometimes, the soft hissing of snakes floating through the air...even though he had never ever seen a snake. She’d always come back to herself quickly, her eyes losing the glazed look. She would call him paidí mou and wrap him up in a hug.
He didn’t really realize it at first, just accepted that it happened with his madre, and that it was their little secret.
He didn’t even tell Jarvis.
When Tony was six, Tony asked “What did you See?”.
Even though….he didn’t really understand why he asked that. Maria merely smoothed a hand down his cheek and said that the tree in the back would crush the shed in the storm tomorrow.
She was right.
Tony went to find her, found her drinking wine off the balcony, staring down at the massive tree that had smashed through the shed, sending wood everywhere across the once pristine lawn.
“How did you know?” he asked. He’d never feared his mother. Howard he did, with an alcohol slurred voice and clenched fists.
But never his mother.
“We come from a lineage of a time where monsters and gods roamed freely.” his mother said, her voice flat and cold and scary. “And when you rebuff a god Antonio, you suffer the consequences. You, and everyone descended from you.”
“Why did they rebuff the gods?” Tony asked, wide-eyed and curious. He didn’t know then.
“Because they wanted what she did not want to give.” Maria said, finally looking at him. She pressed a hand against his back, turning him away from the wreckage and steering him back inside. “Come with me, and I will tell you the story of Cassandra.”
~~
Years later, Tony would understand, and ask her how long she could See.
Maria would give him that glazed empty look, and tell him that her mother, his grandmother, had died when Maria was four.
"It’s Still There."
748 words Hurt/Comfort Characters: Spongebob and Gary
Summary: Having an active volcano within walking distance from your house can be pretty freaky – especially after it almost killed everyone.
*audible shrug* i needed some good ol’ fashioned vent-writing to help me wind down. enjoy.
alternate title: nightmares are lame and spongebob talks to his pet a lot
Spongebob awoke with a start. Not unusual, considering his alarm clock was a giant foghorn.
Except his alarm clock wasn’t going off.
And it was three in the morning.
He sat up slowly, struggling to keep the blanket over his shoulders to ward off the chill winter waves that drifted through the open window, which bathed the room in a soft blue light. He arched his back, letting out a high-pitched yawn, trying to collect his thoughts and recall what exactly had caused him to wake up in the first place.
His turned his head, staring out the open window (maybe I should close that, he pondered), and allowing his gaze to settle on the town off in the distance – the view partly obscured by Squidward’s house. A sudden sense of relief washed over him, but he wasn’t quite sure why. He supposed he was just happy it was still there.
And then it hit him.
It’s still there.
A blurred image flashed across his vision, a distorted sound echoing in his head. The town on fire. Everybody screaming. Boulders crashing down around them. His friends…
He shuddered, dropping the blanket and letting it sit limply on his lap. He scooted back against the headboard and curled his knees into his chest. A breathy whine escaped his throat, and a quiet noise responded to it.
“Meow.”
Spongebob jumped, but immediately settled back into his curled position, his eyelids drooping down. “Sorry, Gary,” he muttered quietly, tucking his head down like a sea turtle into its shell.
Said snail proceeded to snail up the side of the bed, gently nudging Spongebob’s side before settling down next to him. “Meow.”
“I’m fine, Gare-bear,” he assured unconvincingly. “Just had a nightmare”
“Meow.”
“Yeah, it was that one,” he shrugged.
“Meow.”
“Not really.” He shifted to a more relaxed position, untucking his legs from his chest. “I’m just a little freaked out, I guess.”
“Meow.”
“No, it’s stupid,” he pouted.
“Meow.”
Spongebob let out a breath. “I guess I’m just worried, y’know?” He moved over, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring towards the window. “I mean, it’s not like we destroyed the volcano. It could still just erupt and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”
Gary moved to sit on his lap and Spongebob gently ran his hand back-and-forth over his shell.
“Everything’s fine now, but what if it’s not fine tomorrow?”
Gary snuggled into his chest, purring.
“Maybe I should ask Sandy about it,” he rationalized. “She’s got all those monitors on it, so she’d probably know if anything was wrong.”
Gary backed up and gave him a look. “Meow.”
Spongebob shrunk back awkwardly. “Actually, I’ve only asked her three times.”
Gary rolled his eyes and went back to the floor, laying down with his shell leaned against Spongebob’s foot.
Several minutes passed, Gary was on the ground, asleep and relaxed. Whereas Spongebob was on his bed, still awake and anxious. He checked the time – 3:30AM. He’d gotten two hours of sleep, and he needed to be up for work in two hours. He was starting to regret the overtime he’d done that night.
A chill wave hit his face, and he remembered the window was open.
He stood up, careful not to wake Gary (again), and snuck over to the window. He looked out for a moment, scanning the horizon.
He saw the Chum Bucket – barren, save for a large “OPEN” sign lit up in front of it. Plankton must’ve forgotten to shut it off – everyone knows the Chum Bucket closes at eleven (exactly one hour after the Krusty Krab). Well, maybe not everybody knew, but Spongebob certainly did. Although he couldn’t see it from his house, Spongebob pictured the Krusty Krab, all locked up with a “Go away! We’re closed!” sign hanging on the front door. The tables empty, and the fridge stocked with ingredients to make the next day’s Krabby Patties.
His gaze drifted to the mountain looming in the distance.
If there is a next day.
He tensed up, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he tried to get his attention hooked onto something less pessimistic. He looked back at the town, the buildings peeking over the horizon.
It’s still there.
Spongebob quietly shut the window and creeped back into bed. He pulled the blanket over his head and shut his eyes, letting the image of the distant town settle in his vision.
It’s still there.