#'how could u even say this was just worded poorly how could this be taken any other way'

[jasmines-library]

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin. 

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look. 

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes. 

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you. 

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that. 

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar. 

~

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece. 

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything  you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake. 

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[honeyedmiller]

Ring | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader

warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 2k

synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.

quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!

this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)

“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.

“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.

“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.

Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?

“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.

“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.

“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.

“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.

Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.

If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.

You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.

Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.

This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.

“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.

“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”

Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.

“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.

He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.

He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.

“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.

“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.

“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.

Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.

He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.

“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”

“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.

“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.

You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.

Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.

“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.

“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.

There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.

“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.

He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.

“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.

You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.

His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.

“Please, J. I need you.”

“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.

He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.

“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.

“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.

“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.

“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.

“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.

Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.

You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.

“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.

You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.

Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.

He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.

He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.

“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.

“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.

“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”

Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.

Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’

Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.

“Marriage problems my ass.”

tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana

[slightlyartist]

HIHIII!!! i just want 2 say i love ur tatexbackle art SO MUCH do u have any headcannons for them?*I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I STRIVE OFF OF CONTENT OF THEM, also im a sucker for tate media)

HEWWO! I'm SO HAPPY people want to know more about Tackle, so I stayed up until 5am writing these. Enjoy!

Backle was born in Australia but moved to Florida in his late teens.

He is a few years younger than Tate (Let's say if Tate is 35 then he is 33) (Was born in ~1980, the Gravity Falls Timeline is a mess don't make me do the maths)

His fave movie is Nemo, he was already in his 20s when the movie came out but he was SEATED. Loved the Barracuda cameo (one of his favorite fish). His Shark obsession got worse. Watched it while he was in Florida and made him miss Australia.

He has a picture of Steve Irwin in his wallet.

Tate doesn't like having his picture taken but Backle convinced him to take one selfie together. He keeps it next to the Steve Irwin picture.

Very active, also loves hiking! Loves collecting little trinkets along the way and puts them around the shop. Tate doesn't like that habit but Backle insists it's "decoration".

Backle isn't a very crafty man but he made some fishing line bracelets for him and Tate. They kept on breaking so Tate built some fishing line rings, Backle keeps his on a necklace and Tate sometimes fidges with his own when he gets nervous or overthinks.

Backle never made fun of Old Man McGucket, even before Tate confessed that he was his father. Florida made him immune to any type of "crazyness" and he understands that some people are unlucky and that life sometimes isn't fair to them. Backle explained this to Tate on an afternoon they were fishing and Tate got so comforted and less embarrassed of his dad.

Backle introduced Tate to "Stoic Monthly" so he could get his anxiety under control. Tate insists that he can buy his own but Backle always gets him the new issue the moment they release it.

Backle's love language is Words of affirmation and Gift-giving (I bet this heals Tate's inner child).

Tate's love language is Quality time and Acts of service.

Tate is very reserved and it took him some time to open up to Backle. After that Backle discovered that Tate is actually a Yapper and he loves listening to him.

Backle is an even bigger Yappertron 3000.

Despite that, they can spend hours sitting in silence just fishing without being uncomfortable.

Backle finds Tate's quirks really endearing and likes noticing them. Tate mumbles a lot when mad, bounces his knee when overthinking (got it after his father), and hums and whistles when happy (got it after his mother).

Tate doesn't like Public Displays of Affection but that didn't stop Backle from trying.

Backle keeps insisting that Skinny Dipping is so much fun and that they should do it. Tate picked a date to do it and Backle got really excited, only to discover that on the day Tate picked there was a huge storm. He suspects Tate chose that day on purpose because he is awfully good at predicting the weather. Backle will keep suggesting it until they try it.

Backle knows how to cook really well. Tate is the one in charge of keeping everything clean and in order.

Backle would love to have a dog, Tate would love to have a cat, they settled on gluing googly eyes on a rock. Tate named it Dwayne and Backle found it hilarious. Every time they see it they smile.

He likes watching poorly made, low-cost movies. Tate always ends up joining him after saying that "there's no way you like that". After each one, they always end up agreeing it's the worst movie they have ever watched.

Backle was a camp counselor when he was 16. His easygoing personality made kids love him. He also likes kids because they don't judge him for info dumping about sharks. In fact, they would keep asking for more shark facts.

Tate is scared that Backle will end up leaving him too, tries to not get too attached. #DaddyIssues

Tate wonders why Backle doesn't freak out when encountering Gravity Falls' weird creatures. Backle says it feels like a normal day in Australia.

No one in town knows the nature of their relationship. If you ask them, they'll tell you they are Fishing Buddies. If you ask Tate and Backle, they'll also tell you that. Only Blubs and Durland know.

Backle fully believes he'd be able to win a fight against an alligator/bear

Tate confessed that he had never watched Nemo and Backle couldn't believe it. He worked twice as hard on his shift to have everything done sooner just to close the shop early on that day. Then prepared snacks and organized a movie night. Tate really liked it, but found every scene with Dory difficult to watch because it reminded him of his dad (he never made a comment about it, but Backle probably figured it out). Backle would remind him to "just keep swimming" during hard times. During boring days at the shop, Backle also likes to mess with Tate by "speaking whale".

I could probably keep on adding more and more but I'm gonna stop here! Everyone is free to ask me for anything specific or even drop your own HCs! Would love to hear them and maybe even make them "canon" teehee <3

[sushiwriterhere]

open note

summary: your shoulders won't stop aching and Nanami sits across from you at the cafe | 3.1k warnings: nanami x reader 18+, reader is (lightly) cursed, PiV (unprotected), nanami follows reader around sorta (for protection purposes), oral (f receiving) notes: this is my first jjk fic, pls let me know what u think <3 (to all my tg fans.. hope u can forgive me). not sure who to tag but i hope if u read u enjoy!

It’s late. The letters on the screen blur as you try to keep reading–you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to slog through your latest assigned reading. It’s not usually like this for you, like pulling teeth or climbing up ten flights of stairs, usually law school feels like a blessing. 

Everyone warned you about competitive peers and cutthroat curves, but instead you found a community of people who shared your passion for the law and didn’t find it odd that you could launch into a twenty-minute rant about the poorly designed logic of originalism at any moment. It was comforting to feel like you’d found your place in the world, to feel like you’d found your path. Was, being the operative word here. 

Lately everything felt heavy, felt, off balance. Some days, you stayed in bed until you were sure you would miss the bus to your lecture hall, only to make it by some grace of god, half disheveled and not sure you’d brought everything you needed. Some days, your apartment was too quiet, the one-bedroom you’d always longed for feeling more suffocating than the freeing space you’d needed it to be. You’d smile at your peers but gently reject invites for drinks or group study at the law library, citing your internship or a family call, but really, you just couldn’t bring yourself to spend more time than you already were in other peoples’ presence. 

Your only bright spot is Nanami. Every week, without fail, at least three times a week, you find yourself sitting across from him at the cafe down the street from your apartment complex. It’s an odd, unspoken arrangement. The cafe had been crowded one Thursday morning and he’d wordlessly stood behind the chair across from you before sitting after you’d nodded once. He always orders the same thing, a hot Americano–though he’s taken to sliding a muffin across to you ever so often. 

Sometimes you think that when he looks at you, he’s the only person who can really see you. Other times it feels like he’s almost looking right past you, like he’s trying to make out the face of someone far over your shoulder.

Even so, it is a tender set of interactions that buoys you throughout the week, until you find yourself sitting in front of Nanami at a quiet restaurant. Whatever you’ve ordered at random is savory and tender, and pairs beautifully with the wine he chose. It’s also exactly what you would’ve picked. 

The candlelight illuminates his face in a way that throws his features into stark relief, masculine, chiseled, and so beautiful. He’s saying something, and you wish you could put your hand on his chest to feel the rumble of the baritone you know is there. You think it might ground you in a way you haven’t felt in a while. You feel like you’re watching the entire interaction outside yourself. 

Then he’s paying the bill and pulling out your chair, taking you by the hand as he walks you to the coat check. You let him slip your jacket over your bare shoulders, missing the way the way he stiffens when his fingers brush your bare skin. Everything feels so far away then, and you almost stumble out the door. 

You move your lips to form words, to thank him for the meal, the company, the kindness, but you can’t. The world is foggy and somewhere between your shoulder blades is a deep, aching sort of pain. 

I should see a chiropractor, you think to yourself, wondering if all your time laying on your side looking out your apartment windows has finally caught up to you. 

Standing in front of you, Nanami considers you. But he’s not looking at you, instead he’s looking at the curse curled across your shoulders. It’s small, but that doesn’t matter–he sees the way it pulses with a dense cursed energy. If he strains his senses, he can pick up on its scent, the almost acrid stench. 

It’s been feeding on you for a while now–he first spotted you from across the crowded cafe you both frequent–a small thing at first. He hadn’t wanted to startle you by trying to exorcize it in the middle of that crowded room. Instead, he sat across from you, made friends, even? 

Despite the curse, he enjoyed your presence. You had gentle features, smelled nice, and your brow furrowed whenever you were thinking particularly hard about something until you would reach up to smooth a few fingers over your brow as if push the wrinkle away. The feelings were on accident, really. He’d just wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure the curse wasn’t giving you too much trouble. 

After that he’d learned too much about you in his effort to ‘keep you safe’–

(“Nanami, where are you off to at this hour?” Nanami ignored the other man as he pulled on his jacket. 

He’d spent a few minutes too many indulging in a hot cup of coffee, now he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. You always got off the bus at this hour, and the curse was starting to really settle in. He didn’t like the faraway look you had in your eyes as you walked; he wasn’t sure you’d notice someone following you or coming up behind you. You hadn’t noticed him yet.

Gojo really couldn’t help himself, he was too nosy for his own good. Which was why Nanami couldn’t tell him, rather, refused to tell him about you. But he was running out of excuses and Gojo was getting particularly good at delegating, so he was spending more time than ever hanging around looking for someone to bother. 

“Lock the door behind me.” Was all he said in response, cutting off the other sorcerer’s garbled protests.)

Now, standing across from you, he sees a beautiful woman being drained of her life as a filthy curse digs its talons into you. 

Against his better judgment, Nanami steps forward towards you. In the restaurant, the candle light lit your face from below. Here, the street lights are above, emphasizing the darkness under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping. 

Your eyes are glossed over when you look up at him, but you place your hands on his chest, his dress shirt dimpling under your fingertips. Rising on your toes, your hands smooth over his shoulders. Something curls pleasantly in his chest at the way your eyes widen when your hands find his muscles. 

His hands find their way to your hips, slipping underneath the coat that you didn’t bother to button. 

The curse thrashes angrily the closer Nanami gets. He ignores it. He can smell the perfume you put on you dotted on your wrists, the insides of your elbows, and it makes something twist in his gut. It’s a startling realization to understand that you want someone’s smell on your sheets for the rest of your life. 

You watch as Nanami turns his head, nose dragging across the sensitive inner side of your forearm to dot a kiss in the crook of your elbow. It sends a shiver down your spine at the same time as the pain intensifies in your back. Your knees buckle as he catches you. 

Nanami carries you home. He picked a place close to you just in case he needed to get you alone (not like that) to rid you of the curse. You’re lucid enough to push your purse into his chest so he can fish the keys out and unlock the front door. 

The inside of your apartment is as much the one-bedroom of a law student as he’d imagined it. There’s a desk by the window with textbooks stacked on one side, and one open in the middle. Highlighters of every color are arranged neatly next to it, a stack of cutesy sticky notes tying everything together. 

“Can you stand?” His voice rumbles in his chest next to your ear, and for a few moments you’re free of pain and that ache, like some sort of noise therapy effect. 

You let him stand you upright until, in a flash, your breath is stolen from you. 

What did he just do to me? Who did I let into my house? You think in a moment of panic until you realize your back doesn’t hurt anymore. 

Nanami’s staring at you, a tender look in his eyes. One of his large, warm, hands is gripping your shoulder over your coat, and it grounds you. 

In a moment, your lips are on his. Maybe it’s the way he carried you back to your apartment, maybe’s it’s the way he’s been sitting across from you for three months now, steadily buying you sweets and paying for your coffees and teas. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s so tall, and so broad, and he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon. 

You hang on to the lapels of his coat as his mouth works furiously against yours. Weaving one hand into his hair, you clutch with the other at his shoulders for dear life as he pulls you into him. He’s got one hand cupping your face, the other around your waist. 

Suddenly you feel so full of life and you want him, desperately. You go to throw off your coat but he pulls back for just a moment. 

“Are you sure?” The mere tone of his voice does something indescribable to you, and you nod furiously as you tear off the garment. 

He shoulders off his coat as well and toes out of his dress shoes as he walks you backwards into the nearest wall. You groan in appreciation as he noses down your jawline, behind your ear, to the dip at the base of your neck. 

A shiver tears down your back as you realize he’s smelling you, inhaling the perfume you put on earlier. You pant as he just holds you there, taking you in. The tip of his nose is slightly too cold in contrast with the warm softness of his lips that follow. 

“Nanami,” you try, gripping at his shoulders for dear life as he goes to kneel before you. You want his lips on yours, want to taste the wine you both drank earlier from his mouth. 

“Patience,” He murmurs as he takes one of your legs over his broad, broad, shoulders and you keen, high, reedy, in the back of your throat at the way his teeth scrape at your inner thigh. 

You feel more alive than you have in six months and he wants you to wait? With everything in you you want him to hurry and fuck you, to feel the weight of him in you and around you in your bed, to have him tangled in your sheets. And yet he takes his time.

Nanami is a patient man. He knows what it is to bide your time for the good things–he used to be a salaryman after all. He has waited for this moment. The part of him that sympathizes with what you must be feeling right now, the surge of energy after the months of being drained like a maple tree. But though ever patient, Nanami knows what he wants. 

What he wants is exactly this–tugging your damp panties to the side with a crook of his fingers, tilting his head up and forward to lick up your center and to taste you. What he wants is to keep hearing the sounds you’re making, the sighs and staccato’d ah-ah-ah’s you can’t hold back as he sucks insistently on your clit. What he wants is to keep feeling the way you hug his two fingers, hot, and wet, and so tight and fluttering. 

You tremble against the way he leans against you, keeps you up against the wall. You’ve had people go down on you in your time, you’re in your late 20s not dead. But none of them have done this–have eaten you out like it’s for them, and not you. 

Nanami stays where he is til your hands twist painfully in his hair, til you’re shaking with overstimulation after cumming so hard you think you might’ve blacked out for just a moment. 

Your chest rises and falls quickly, yet in the most tantalizing way, as your nipples strain against the satin fabric stretched over your chest. Your eyes are wild and your cheeks are flushed as he leans in to kiss you ever so gently, only bothering to wipe his chin with the sleeve of his dress shirt so it doesn’t drip onto his chest. 

He has to wear that home tomorrow, you think to yourself, and something curls almost painfully in your chest from arousal. 

One by one, you open the buttons of his shirt as he kisses you intently. He runs his tongue along your teeth as you tug the bottom of it out of his slacks and his fingers tighten on your waist as you unbutton his pants and stick your hand in his briefs. God. He’s heavy and thick and hot in your hand, and you think you can feel his pulse from the way he throbs in your grip. 

He grunts softly when you slide down his length only to tighten your grip and twist your wrist. There’s not much room between the two of you, not with the way he’s pressed up against you, but you make an effort anyways. 

“Take me to bed, Nanami.”

So he does. He pulls himself away from your reach with a final peck, before grabbing your thighs and picking you up. It’s a certain sort of primal attraction you feel at the effortless way he carries your weight and sets you down ever so gently on your sheets. At this angle, you have the perfect view. 

His shirt, untucked and unbuttoned reveals a trim waist and a broad, muscular chest. The one you’d felt earlier. His slacks are tented and there’s a small damp patch just to the left of the middle seam. He flexes his hands once before kneeling before you once again. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch as he slides your heels off one by one, ever so gently. 

You’d forgotten you were wearing them. 

As he shrugs his shirt off, you twist yourself around so you’re sitting on your heels, so you can pull your dress up and over your shoulders. His pants are halfway down his thighs when you reemerge and then you two are frozen in a momentary staring contest.

Nanami doesn’t think he’s gawking per se, but his gaze isn’t innocent by any means. Your satin dress is pooling off one arm, no longer framing your figure just so. Your nipples are hard and he thinks your tits might be the perfect size to fit in his palms (he’ll have to find out). Your panties are lace trimmed, and although Nanami of ten years ago might’ve rolled his eyes (“I’m going to take them off anyway.”), the man before you swallows dryly. The eroticism of watching you undress cannot be overstated. 

He finishes pulling off his slacks to give himself a distraction. You’re so beautiful it makes his chest ache, especially now that you’re not weighed down by grief and anger and sadness. 

You’ve made your way to the edge of the mattress by the time he stands to his full height again. Your hands are warm and soft against his skin as you explore the planes of his chest, scratching softly at the waistband of his briefs. You press a kiss to his sternum and something terrible blooms right underneath his skin. 

He leans down to press you into the bed so he doesn’t have to dwell on that for too long. Below him you’re soft and warm and so responsive. You sigh into his mouth when he drags a fingertip over your nipples, when he rocks his hips into yours. 

Eventually he rids himself of his briefs, and you wiggle out of your panties, an excited look gracing your features. He pretends it doesn’t affect him the way it does. 

When he finally sinks into you, he thinks he can’t breathe. It’s not some overwrought metaphor about being inside you it’s about being with you. You’re here with him, after he took you to dinner, carried you home, got rid of the curse. It’s you who’s moaning his name, scraping your nails across his shoulders and back. 

You’re tilting your hips up into his, gasping in pleasure, whispering filthy sweet nothings– “Been thinking about this since I first saw you–” “Feels so good, Nanami, you feel so good–” “Only want you like this–”

He finishes with a punched out groan and he feels the way you clench around him at the sensation. A hand slips between you two and he finds your clit again with his fingers, determined to get you off again. It’s only fair. 

Your face contorts in pleasure as you finish again, and the way you bear down on him makes his head spin. He holds himself above you as you both come down, resting his forehead against yours and trying to catch his breath–certainly not from physical exertion. 

When he pulls out, when he goes to stand, to find something to clean you up, make you comfortable for sleep, you catch him by the wrist. 

“Stay.” Is all you say, smiling softly at him. It’s so much closer to how Nanami imagined you’d looked before the curse, without its weight on your shoulders that he thinks he might be sick. 

And stay he does. He cleans you up tenderly then coaxes you into the bathroom so you can wash your face and brush your teeth. He follows your instructions dutifully on where to find a clean pair of sheets and hangs your dress up back inside the first empty garment bag he spots inside your closet. 

Nanami lets you press a toothbrush into his palm, lets you peck his lips with your lip mask on, and push him toward the bathroom with a smile. He made the bed. Your dress is hanging in the closet. 

It’s painfully domestic and nurturing in a way you maybe didn’t expect from someone who bed you on the first date. But then again, you’d wanted him to. (The underwear, the perfume–men.)

When you finally watch him climb into bed next to you, you’re more than satisfied by the way he tugs you into his arms and just holds you. There’s no pretense, no motive, nothing other than wanting to hold you and feel your skin on his. You feel lighter than you have in months.

[fangirlfrom-hell]

Jay and Will Halstead x Halstead sister

Request: Hey! Could u do some sort of imagine of when halstead sister (becca or not:) sees pat halstead die. Obviously they’re relationship was a lil Distnat but he had a soft spot for her..blah blah blah. Basically just like Jay having to literally force her out of the room while she’s sobbing and screaming etc. lots of fluff and whatever!

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly delated my blog 🫠

There was a siren, and soon the sound of two car engines parking in the garden indicated that her brothers had arrived.

-"He's in the living room, he can't stand up!" Becca whined going outside of the house, approaching to Jay and Will.

-"Ok, what happened?" She was so stressed she didn't even know who asked. She was now following her brothers inside of the house. Everything was happening so fast.

-"He--uh--he had a pain in the chest and fall down the stairs".

-"I told you not to call anyone!" Pat's angry accusation was heard from inside the house.

-"I know dad, but--He didn't want me to call 911, but he looked so bad that at the end I did anyway. But he yelled to the paramedics, made them go".

-"I'm fine!" Their father insisted with annoyance when his two sons and daughter got to the living room, where he was laying on the couch. Immediatly, Will ran towards the man to check on him. It was obvious that he was having trouble breathing and he was sweating a lot.

-"No, you're not!" Becca raised her voice: "They said he should be taken to the hospital as soon as possib--".

But her father raged before she could finish: "That's enough! Shut up now, Becca".

In a sudden movement, Jay positioned himself protectively in front of Becca and pointed at Pat with his finger, his voice stern: "Hey, you shut up! She's your daughter and she's just trying to help you".

-"Jay!" Will scolded him, it was not the moment.

Scared and crying, she lowered her voice: "He--he refused to be attended and made them go away".

-"Yes! I refused to go and you shouldn't have call your brothers!" He coughed and his doctor son made a sign to calm him down.

-"I didn't know what to do!" Becca cried out to her siblings, mostly explaining herself to Jay.

-"You did good in calling us, Becc". Will reassured her. -"And you are comming to The Med with me". He turned to threaten his father.

Will and Jay carried Pat to one of the poorly parked cars outside the house. "I'll take him. I can turn on the siren and get there faster", Jay ordered. Both brothers placed their father inside the truck, all the while he cursed his kids for what they were doing.

-"Hey! Take care of her". The detective nodded towards his sister, who was freezed in the framedoor of the house entrance.

-"Becca, come on! We gotta go!" Will called her at the same time that the siren sounded, and the truck sped away.

The road to The Med was silent. Will was frowning in concern while driving, thinking on what to say to make Becca feel better. There were tears welling up in her eyes, though she never let them truly escape; she wiped them away with the sleeve of her sweater, trying to keep her brother from noticing. He understood how she was feeling. Dealing with Pat was hard and emotionally draining, especially for Becca, who was just a teenager and had to face his insults and neglect all on her own. No words were necessary; he simply reached over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze before refocusing on the road.

By the time they arrived to The Med, Pat had already been admitted and Jay was standing up in the waiting room. Will wasted no time and immediately entered the ED to inquire about his father's condition. Jay and Becca just stared at each other and he gave her a sad smirk before hugging her. "You were so brave back there", he said.

-"Will hasn't sent you any text yet? It's taking too long" Becca faltered after an hour.

-"He'll be out as soon as he has news". He wished to reassure her that everything would be fine, but his certainty wavered.

Those were the only words they exchanged while waiting. A few minutes later, the head nurse arrived and ushered Jay to his older brother's side. Maggie, with a warm smile, ensured that Becca wasn't left alone and sat down beside her.

-"All I can tell you is that he's in stable condition. Delicated, but alive". Maggie grumbled noticing the teen's anxiety growing.

-"Good". She answered curtly. -"Or whatever". She tried to appear indifferent, but she couldn't completely hide her concern. Pat had been neglectful and offensive to her throughout all those years of upbringing, but he was still her father, the only parent she had left.

Maggie was about to say something when a beep on her phone interrupted her. She clicked her teeth as she read the text. "Come on, I'll take you to your brothers, sweetie".

The Halstead brothers were inside a tiny, empty room, both pale with expressions that were hard to read, but it was obviously nothing good. Jay frowned and pressed his lips together as soon as he saw his little sister coming in; there was this pinkness under his eyes noticeable whenever his eyes were watery. Will sighed and invited her to sit, but she refused.

--"Alright, I'll get straight to the point," the redhead exhaled. - "Dad had a heart attack..."

-"That's what I suspected," the girl interrupted, emotionless.

-"Becc...his heart stopped; he was gone, but Dr. Archer brought him back. This is worse than the last time. Much worse."

-"Oh. Ok, but he is alive". That came out sounding as a question.

-"He's stable for now, yes." He gazed deep into her eyes, and it felt as though he had pierced her soul.

-"What does that mean, Will? Is he going to be okay?" She shuddered.

Silence.

-"Will..."

-"It's uncertain, Becca." Jay joined the conversation to help. "Doctors are still working on him, conducting tests. We still don't know how serious this is. Anything could happen..."

She finally sat down, sniffing.

-"I know this is hard, but there's nothing we can do, but wait and pray". The doctor concluded.

Neither of the siblings moved from their spots; it was as if they had become frozen in place, as if time itself had stopped. Will's phone disrupted the solemn atmosphere: "He's awake".

Jay walked alongside Becca, following Will to the section of the ED where their father had been admitted. Pat lay on the hospital bed with oxygen to assist his breathing, surrounded by numerous cables and machines. He raised his hand when he spotted his sons and daughter entering, but Will hurried to signal him not to make any effort. Becca stopped abruptly, and Jay had to give her a gentle nudge to encourage her to enter. He squeezed her shoulder to let her know he was right there with her.

She felt confused, her emotions all jumbled together. Was she feeling this way because, not so deep down, she was worried and scared for her father? Or was she afraid of how he would react after being brought to the hospital on her account?

-"You wouldn't believe me, but I'm glad you three are here," Pat interrupted Becca's thoughts.

-"You shouldn't be talking--" Will rushed to his side.

-"I don't think it matters at this point, son," their father struggled to reply. Will shivered upon hearing how he was addressed.

-"I know I--I've been an idiot," he groaned in an attempt to sit up but failed.

-"Dad, don't--"

-"Will, please... just let me--" He sighed. "I've been an idiot. And I need to apologize to you before--."

At that moment, Becca started to cry uncontrollably, and Pat noticed her precense as if no one else was in the room: "...specially you". He conffessed looking at her right straight to the eyes. She had never heard such sweet tone on his voice before. After a few seconds of contemplating her, he smiled with teary eyes.

-"Come here, Becca."

The girl turned her head back to look at Jay, as asking for his permission and he nodded encouragingly. She slowly walked to the bedside but didn't dare to approach too closely.

"Look at you, my beautiful baby girl", he sighed. -"You resemble your mother so much. Oh, she will never forgive me. I think I will never forgive myself. But I hope you do... for your own sake". He struggled to catch his breath with each word he pronounced. "I know I've got no excuse. I was so hurt when your mom died, I couldn't even take care of myself, and you were so little and reminded me so much of her that I couldn't---I couldn't even look at you. It was too late when I tried to compensate for it with you, I couldn't even try". Pat confessed, his voice filled with sadness. "I regret it so much, to have seen you grow and become who you are from the distance, uninvolved. I wanted to be for you, but I didn't know how to go back to you...".

Will got distracted with one of the machines and focused on reading the signs from it.

-"I'm sorry, Becca. I am so sorry, sweetheart. For everything. I'm proud of you, know that. And even if you don't believe my words: I love you".

Becca was weeping as she got closer to take his hand.

-"Alright". The doctor said with a lump in his throat. "Enough emotions for today. Dad, you really need to rest now".

But he didn't listen: "Keep taking care of her, Jay. Promise me that".

-"Always". The detective answered simply, taking a step forward, his arms crosses.

-"I'm proud of you both too. Despite me, you've grown into fine men."He turned to his sons: "My boys". A violent coughing fit overcame him and all the machines started to make a sound, indicating that something was wrong. After a hard pain in his chest, Pat loose consciousness. Everything happened so fast.

-"Dad!" Becca yelled, still by his side.

-"What's going on, Will?" His brother jumped.

-"You have to clear the room!" He gently tugged at Becca, trying to pull her away from the bed, but she hesitated. Jay hurriedly joined her side, attempting to separate her from the scene. Suddenly, they found themselves encircled by a team of nurses, led by Dr. Archer, who were speaking rapidly in a whirlwind of medical terminology that Becca and Jay couldn't quite comprehend.

Jay persistently pulled his sister, but it seemed futile; she clung to the bed, sobbing and screaming for her dad, refusing to leave his side. Her distress was palpable, and Jay's efforts to move her proved challenging in the face of her deep emotional turmoil.

-"Jay, take her out of here!" Will pressured.

Jay knew he had to take drastic action to get her out. With tears in his own eyes, he firmly hugged her from the back and started pulling her harder, as he would do with any other victim at work. Her resistance made the process challenging, the girl's sobs and screams reverberated in the room. Come on, come on, Becc, he kept repeating.

The vitals monitor indicated that the patience heart had stopped, the sound it made as an announcement was like a dagger in the Halstead siblings. Doctors kept working, trying to resucitate him, and Becca gave up fighting her brother.

-"No!" She screamed long. If it wasn't for Jay, she would had fall to the floor. "I love you too, dad. I love you". She cried out.

Jay lifted Becca firmly into his arms and managed to pull her out. She clung to him, her cries muffled against his shoulder. Her grip was tight, and her protests were heart-wrenching, but Jay remained unwavering. She couldn't even hold herself up, so they both sank to the floor and settled in the hallway, where he cradled her even closer. She buried her red and tear-streaked face in his shoulder. He began to sway gently back and forth, as if he were soothing a baby.

-"It's all right, it's all right. Take it out" his voice was both comforting and broken. -"I'm here by your side, I'm not going anywhere," he whispered softly as she kept bawling.

-"I should have called you earlier," Becca blubbered, her voice filled with guilt. "Or somehow made him go in the ambulance."

Jay gently separated her from him, noticing the wet patch she had left on his t-shirt. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze: "Hey, this is not on you. Don't you even think about it."

Defeated, Will emerged from the trauma room and spotted his siblings in the heart-wrenching position they were in. Jay glanced at him with questioning eyes, and the doctor simply shook his head in response, conveying the grim news without words.

Jay kissed Becca's hair and took his head back to close his eyes finding his own solace. Quietly, Will sat down beside his brother and sister, sharing the grief.

[3terna15unshin3]

Hey I have a request for a blurb. Matty and Este are both so career driven but what about something that makes them consider next steps? They’ve been together a few years at this point. I was just thinking about Este thinking she might be pregnant and Mattys reaction. Even if she isn’t but then they have to talk about what they both want from life and how old they are. Fluffy more than angsty?

Late

Este might be pregnant

2102 words

—

a/n: thank u sooo much for the request!!! In the past i’ve been feral at those interview clips of Matty talking about pregnancy scares and being up to have a baby and whatever so I am very much into this concept😝😝 I hope this is what u were looking for!

(I wrote a whole 15 chapter fic of this universe! read it here first if u want more Matty and Este 😌)

—

Este sighed, finally finishing her newest review and preparing it to be sent for approval. Her office was quiet, void of the few coworkers she shared it with due to the late hour. She’d called in the day before—a migraine and funny stomach holding her hostage—so she had a bit of housekeeping to deal with, and stayed past her usual time.

Once she’d packed up and left to her and Matty’s north London home, she sat in her own little world on the tube. Headphones tight over her ears. But as she stared down at her phone, the funny feeling her stomach came back.

It wasn’t uncommon for Este to get a bit motion sick; so she pressed the power button to turn off her screen. Avoiding her device would clear up the sickness eventually.

But it only got worse. So bad that when she got off at Queen’s Park Station, she walked the long way home to prolong the feeling of the evening air. Este thought about how a hundred years ago, doctors used to prescribe ‘sea air’ as a cure for being unwell. As if a walk on the beach could bypass a disease. She liked that idea, and suddenly yearned to be on the shore. To take in the smells. To eat some fish and chips. Fish and chips sounded really good, Este thought.

Matty had been working from home that day, corresponding with Jamie about some boring label stuff and hopping on call with his financial advisor. A pretty chill day, compared to the type he’d been working lately.

So, when Este arrived home, she found him on on the sofa with his nose in his laptop, Keiko crumpled against his thigh. She dropped her bag and politely shoved Keiko to the side after giving her a few pets, and took the spot in Matty’s lap instead.

“Hey.” he said with a chuckle, not even hearing her come through the door and smiling at the surprise. He buried his hand in her hair with love and studied her face that stared up at him. That’s when he noticed how the expression on her face was laced with discomfort. His eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything alright?”

Este pouted dramatically, making him roll his eyes. She giggled. “Yeah. Just feel a bit poorly from the tube home,” she explained, nuzzling deeper into his touch.

“From the tube? Since when do you get sick from the tube?”

Her shoulders shrugged. “Maybe I’m just not fully over what I was feeling yesterday.”

Matty pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. It felt normal. “Want me to run us a bath?”

She smiled at the sweet offer, and the fact that he knew that she loved a bath when feeling under the weather. But the more she considered it, the more she cringed at the thought.

“I was going to say yes, but a bath honestly sounds like the last place I’d want to be at the minute,” Este admitted.

He was taken aback. His hands grabbed Este’s shoulders to sit her upright and look at her head on. “Who are you and what have you done with my Este?”

She closed her eyes weakly and laughed—though it quickly turned to a grimace when the movement in her torso made her ache even more.

“Seriously, love! I don’t think you’ve ever declined a bath. Even last year when you had the flu and I was sure you’d pass out from the heat. You still said yes,” Matty pointed out.

“You’re right,” she agreed, “But don’t worry, I’ll just get some sleep. See how I feel tomorrow—“

“Have you had your period?”

They paused together after Matty interrupted her. It shut Este up quickly. Because she hadn’t.

She silently shook her head no in his direction. Wide eyes plastered her mug. “It’s late.”

Minds spinning, they sat quietly for another beat.

“Do you want me to go and get a test?”

-

Este took a wee on the stick. Matty set the three minute timer. And they waited.

“What if I am pregnant, Matty?”

They sat hip to hip on the edge of the bathtub as the clock counted down.

“I think I should be the one asking you that,” he responded, “Whatever you feel is right. That’s what we’ll do.”

She looked over at him in wonder and in slight apprehension. The overhead lighting casted shadows onto his face, showing its angularity and structure. It looked sharp, like it was carved out of something solid. But somehow it was sweet and soft. Peering at it was easy.

“But the next album. Tour. You either miss everything with me or you postpone your career. I couldn’t make you do that,” Este leaned her head onto his shoulder.

Matty’s hand wandered around to the opposite side of her waist and found home there. “Fuck that.” he said shortly. “There’s always time to release an album or to do a tour, darling. We can do that next year. The year after. 2040, even, if we need to. But this is right now. If you think I’d choose my ‘career’ over you, then you’re crazy.”

The timer beeped.

“I guess this is literally right now,” sighed Este, nerves bubbling throughout her body. She grabbed Matty’s chin to pull him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he said, like he always did. “By the way—if there is a baby and what you want is to walk to a clinic and get rid—then I’d also support that,”

She laughed at the way he waved his hand in casual dismissal when he said ‘get rid’, grabbing it tightly as they both stood up and prepared to look. Matty had a sheepish grin on his face after succeeding in making her laugh during such a heavy moment.

They perched their feet in front of the sink, where the test laid. And after a quiet ‘Three, two, one,’ in unison, Este flipped it over.

It was negative.

Just to be sure, she took the four other tests that came in the pack that Matty bought. They were all negative.

Este then gave her GP a call to meet with her the next day and get to the bottom of her mysterious illness; now that pregnancy was off the table (at the appointment, she would come to learn that she had developed a slight sensitivity to gluten. She would also eventually get her period—a small but loud 4 days late).

Now sat back on the sofa, Keiko sprawled across their laps, a certain weight was lifted off the both of their shoulders. But, the future still seemed up in the air.

“What if those tests were positive?” asked Este, “Do you feel ready to have a baby? Is that something you want?”

The answer was easy, for Matty. “The idea of being a dad does excite me,” he explained truthfully, “It’s just been the question of when would be the right time—because of how busy and weird my life gets. And also just the fact that none of my previous relationships got to the point of even considering it, since they haven’t been you. But I feel like me and you are cut out for anything. I’d be ready, for you.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand to fiddle with it.

“I also look at the way we are now. Passionate about our work, Keiko, living life fully. And I think that if a baby never happens to fit into the picture—whether that be by choice or just by chance—then that would be okay too. It’s me and you. It’ll work out.” Matty explained, “Do you feel ready for a baby? Or even want one?”

“For a while I wasn’t keen on it. I think it came from a place of just being scared that I wouldn’t have the chance, you know? That nobody would ever love me enough to want to start a family. In Filipino culture, it’s so common to get married and have children in your early twenties. My mum had me at 22 and I wasn’t even an accident. So when I passed that age and was not anywhere near getting married, I was kind of bitter. Angry that people wouldn’t stop asking me about it. Now I’m just in awe to share my life with someone. To be so eager to expand that adoration. So I wouldn’t be opposed having a little baby. Seems like a worth-while thing to commit to with someone you love. With you,”

Matty brought her in closer, making her cuddle against his side and beneath this arm. He planted a kiss on her temple.

“I also will say this,” restarted Este, “I don’t think I’d want more than one.”

He brushed a wavy stray hair off of her forehead. “Oh—you already know I’d spoil the first one so much that we’d have no money left to have another,” Matty joked.

She giggled, silently picturing what it would be like. How Matty would probably insist on carrying the little boy or girl everywhere and refuse to put the task on her. How if they had long hair, he’d ask Este to teach him how to plait with excitement, even though he wouldn’t be very good at it. How he would get the little one a pair of drumsticks as soon as they’re able to hold some. How him and Este would buy an endless library of story books.

“But—” Este began to clarify, quickly being interrupted by Matty who finished her sentence with her.

“Definitely not right now.” They clarified in unison.

Laughter blanketed their presence, happy that they were on the same page and that their bottom lines were the same. And that they knew to express it at the same time, in the same words. It happened often and honestly began to creep them out.

Este dragged their puppy up her body to embrace her fully and feel her soft fur against her tired cheek. The now even later hour drew Keiko tired and cuddlier; so any position they had her in would result in eventual quiet snores out of her snout. All three of them were where they felt the happiest.

“When the time comes, it’ll be fun. Being a mum to your kid. Really challenging, probably, but fun.” She decided with a grin.

Matty silently agreed, alternating between caressing his girlfriend’s soft skin and scratching Keiko’s fluffy coat. They sat quietly for a couple of minutes.

“Do you want to marry me? In the meantime?” he suddenly posed.

“What?” Shocked, Este sat up straighter. “Matty, is this a proposal?”

“If you want to marry me, then yes.” The casual tone of his voice made her laugh nervously. “Unless you want something more special, with a ring and everything. You can help me pick it out. And I can plan it, or surprise you. Just say the word so I know this is what you want, and I’ll do it. Now or later,”

Matty smiled when he felt her lips on his.

“Of course I want to marry you,” she said, “I’d marry you tomorrow if you wanted to marry me.”

There was a glint of spontaneity and realisation in his eye. Este watched him open his phone and search for the hours of operation for the nearest courthouse.

“Okay, baby, I was just being excited about the idea. Plus I’m going to the doctor’s tomorrow, to figure out this goddamn stomach that won’t rest. ‘M not sure if there’s time for a wedding,” she stopped him with sarcasm, chuckling and pecking him on the jaw.

He crossed his arms dramatically, throwing his phone the the side and sighing like a toddler. His eyes narrowed in playful anger and stared Este down.

“Suit yourself. Didn’t want to marry you anyway,” Matty joked.

She shoved him over as they burst into giggles together, continuing to banter about how big or small they wanted the wedding to be, how ugly Este thought most engagement rings were, and how there was no way Matty could make his way through written vows without crying.

And in bed that night, laying next to the love of her life, Este glanced down at her empty ring finger and childless abdomen. She thought about how she wouldn’t have it any other way—but also would have it a bunch of different ways���trusting the power of the universe to bring her exactly what it wanted to. Because of how certain she was of how great every single outcome would be, with Matty by her side.

[genlossneg]

not only was the streamer allegory not necessary (btw im not the og anon but he said it in the stream right after genloss, may 29th or 30th something like that), but the christian symolism just wasnt necessary either. it had nothing to do with the plot, just the stupid streamer allegory.

the christian symbolism thing has been so overdone and is so oversaturated at this point. i see christian (and its always christianity for some reason) symbolism fucking everywhere nowadays and its starting to piss me off. i saw someone claim that over the garden wall was a metaphor for like satan or something.

it really just wasnt necessary? and apparently gen 2 has even more of it so thats fun. i dont know why ranboo felt that the whole streamer allegory thing needed to be in genloss bc it just made it feel so tone deaf. he spent a fucking million dollars on genloss and then goes "but u guys are putting me on a pedestal and i dont like it :(" like shut up ur rich. he could never work or say anything again and be fine for the rest of his life.

also! as a gamedev i thought id say that ranboo has no fucking clue how to make a game! zero! the promotional game has already been reviewed by someone else, but basically its just a fnaf minigame with no unique twist on the art style whatsoever. the transitions were lazy as fuck and didnt even match the vibe of the game. the game also has nothing to do with genloss apart from the typical binary code dialogue. literally 6 words (the saviour, the taken, the villain) and also i think the starting room is all that game has in relation to genloss. the whole dumpster thing, the button, the glitches, it turning red, none of that was ever even mentioned in genloss. the whole game was pointless lmao.

i think i will simply die if i ever have to consider (poorly done) religious allegories in media again. that was such an insane move by them. streamer allegory was also such a choice.

also yeah the game was so ????

[cocoabeean]

crumb haters keep that 2 urself that shit is embarrassing

[takalzuoom]

tehe brain rotting azul angst where he cheats on you🙈

sorry for the quality- trying to get over writers block

cw: cheating, angst

but you weren’t supposed to find out 🙊it was just a really really poorly timed photo. one that was supposed to be taken as you saw him the background, arm snaked around some girls waist- some blonde in some skimpy bikini-

it had taken him a month to hold you. yet it only took him half a summer to hold her.

you were perplexed. how could floyd post that and not see what was in the background?… or even jade, who was posing with his bother on the beach when you knew they couldn’t stand being out of water. especially floyd.

you were perplexed. baffled. confused on what was going on. on what he was doing with the blonde. with the tweels

so you liked the post.

nothing more, nothing less.

and when azul texted you that evening, telling you how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you again…

but you couldn’t help your mind reeling. wondering if he was saying that as he was with the three of them, wondering if he was saying that just because you liked the post and managed to catch them in the act.

wondered if he questioned why you didn’t respond nor read it. didn’t call him to update him about the latest home town drama, about the summer work you were stressing over.

complete radio silence for the next two weeks. one sided texts and calls piling up on his end.

but that never stopped the blonde from appearing. closer and closer as he finally made her way into an official photo, arm wrapped around his as a different bikini was on her…

of course- you liked the photo.

which was the first thing that came from you in two weeks.

so when he came back a sophomore, guns blazing with jade and floyd by his side. he went to greet you, hug you, kiss you. only to find you yawning him off.

brushing off his affections.

blowing off his lunch meet ups.

which, azul being azul. pondered about. asking your friends what was wrong and if you were okay… though they only gave him glances and side eyes.

and of course he didn’t like the way you were hanging around those first years and monster.

how’s you blow him and the twins off in favor for them. not even stepping into the lounge for your nightly chat, or to help clean up after hours…

and of course you knew the tweels had something to do with with this. obviously when jade lightly tapped your shoulder, and told yo y to come with them to the lounge where azul- not your ‘boyfriend’- but azul would like to talk with you.

“…is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding us three?” jade asked, casually strolling through the hall as people peered around the door, not wanting to get in the way of the giants.

“not particularly” your nose grew a little lonfher as your eyes stayed trained to the end of the hallway. not bothering to look at him.

“ehhh, are you sure about that-“

“yes. i am.” you interrupted, walking a bit faster so you wouldn’t hear their mumbling. their slurred whispers and monkey grins.

but as you opened the door to the lounge, you didn’t expect azul in his school uniform, foot tapping and arms crossed. a matching scowl on his face as he excused the twins when you opened the door. walking towards you you remembered something he’d always say when you’d ‘bothered him’

time is money and money makes the world go ‘round,

he’d says. so when it was an empty dining hall right before lunch, yeah u thought he’d gone made. as there wasn’t a soul in sight to prep the lounge for the on coming lunch rush- especially since it’s the beginning of the year too.

it was you and him.

and the twins eavesdropping.

“y/n, why have you been ignoring me? you even stopped showing up at the lounge”

a coil in your stomach snapped, a rush of heat spreading through the front of your head as multiple words flooded your head.

multiple things you wanted to say as he kept running lip service.

various insults you wanted to call him, insecurities you wanted to exploit to make him hurt. hurt like you did when you saw that - that necklace on the girl-…

a sigh broke him out of his rambling. you rubbed your head as you checked the time. 11:56

you a step forward, thoughts fighting to take over as an idea was front and center of your mind.

there was one thing all those photos had in common.

it wasn’t that they were all at the beach.

mot wasn’t because they were all in bath suits- yes even azul.

not even the time of day.

“tell blondie that i love her necklace. and that i had the same one” you smiled, you didn’t need the cafe to be silent to hear his gears in full throttle.

the furrow of his brows, and the flush of his checks telling you everything you needed to know.

though before he could put his octo smarts to good use, you were already out the door. loudly thanking floyd for the photos.

bonus :

azul : …. what just happened

floyd : seems like ya have no more bitches

altnerate ending :

azul : *overblots*

idk i pulled this out of my 🙊

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Ok but can u also do this but with ron + the twins, I love ur smuts !!!!!!!

pairing: reader x ron weasley x fred weasley x george weasley 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, foursome, double penetration, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, fingering

word count: 4.2k 

a/n: soooo this is the longest thing i’ve ever written on this account but if anyone deserves it its the damn weasleys. i tried to make this as non sweet home alabama as possible and that’s probably why it’s so long. anyways, enjoy this ungodly amount of smut while i decompress. 

You had been spending a majority of your summer at The Burrow, where you boyfriend Ron lived. You spent day in and day out with him, practically on top of one another whenever you could be, but that didn’t stop you from spending time with his family. His mother was incredible, albeit a little scary at times, his father was charming, and Ginny was becoming a fast friend. But you couldn’t help the particular draw you felt towards the twins, Fred and George. 

You couldn't deny they were attractive, the genes were strong in the Weasley family. And you often did a poor job at hiding your attraction. 

You didn’t think any of them had noticed your subtle glances or blushes. Little did you know, all three of them had noticed over the few weeks you had been there. They were just waiting you out. 

~~~

Tonight you were all cozied around the fire pit, drinking some firewhiskey, taking advantage of the fact that Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Ron’s oldest brother Bill and his wife, Fluer, for the weekend. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were certainly feeling good. 

You were cuddled up to Ron’s side, his arm slung around your shoulders, a knitted blanket draped over your laps. You were so wrapped up in your boyfriend that you had barely noticed that Fred had taken the spot on your other side until his leg brushed against yours, making you still. 

“Do you need another drink, sweetheart?” Fred asked when you finally looked his way, his face far too close to yours in the situation to be normal. 

You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. “Um, yes, thank you,” you added bashfully. 

Fred dashed a charming smile at you and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before dashing off to get you another glass of whiskey, your blush only intensifying when you felt his lips on your skin. You prayed no one could see it through the light of the fire. 

Ron tugged you back into his side and dropped his lips to your ear. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop,” he said lowly, clearly not pleased by the situation. 

“He kissed me,” you argued softly, your head turning to press a kiss against his neck. He pulled back and shot a look down at you, his brow raised. A look you couldn’t exactly argue with. You got caught and you knew it. 

You stayed quiet, trying to keep your eyes anywhere except the two men that currently had your stomach in knots. But that effort was broken when Fred made his way back over to you, plopping down beside you. He passed you your new drink and you thanked him for it, sitting up straight to take a sip. 

You were caught off guard when you were pulled into his body and away from Ron, Fred’s strong arm now wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Have you been enjoying your summer here so far?” He asked quietly, making sure only you could hear him. 

Your eyes flitted cautiously over the group around the fire, making sure no one was noticing the strange behavior. You paused when you met George’s eyes, his own trained on the interaction between you and Fred, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Um, yes. You’ve all been quite lovely. I like it here,” you told him genuinely. You had been enjoying your summer despite tonights most recent turn of events. 

“Mm, good,” Fred mused, shooting another smile down at you. You couldn’t help but notice the little mischievous glint in his eyes that he got every time he was thinking something that was likely to either end brilliantly or disastourly. “I saw we play a little game. Are you in?” He asked. 

You swallowed nervously, knowing this could end very poorly. “And what is this game?” You questioned. 

“Let’s see how jealous we can get Ron,” he whispered, the smile never leaving his face. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you argued, knowing fully well Ron had already told you to stop… doing whatever you were doing. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. Live a little. Anyhow, you already know how this is going to end,” he told you. 

“And how will this end?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him. 

He moved closer to you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your whole body was hot and the blush was creeping back onto your face and you knew he could see it. 

“Judging by the noises I hear coming from his room almost every night, he’ll fuck you stupid. And I get to hear those pretty noises again,” he told you shamelessly, pulling you into him closer. 

You shot a nervous glance at Ron, only to find that he was already looking at you over the rim of his own cup, fire in his eyes. He raised a brow at you and you could see the way the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, practically daring you to continue on. As if he knew exactly what you and Fred were talking about. 

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Fred added from behind you, making you whip your head around back to him. 

“Of course he’d mind. You’re his brother,” you argued incredulously, still not believing this conversation was even truly happening. 

“You think he doesn’t see the way you look at me and Georgie? You look at us like you want us to devour you,” he told you. 

You snuck a glance at George only to find that he was still looking at you. You could feel Ron’s eyes still on the back of your head. You gulped nervously, your brain short circuiting for a half a second. Did they… did they plan this? 

“I - I haven’t been -,” you went to argue, but Fred cut you off. 

“Don’t play coy with me. Maybe if you beg him nicely like I hear you do so well, he might let us join you tonight,” Fred teased, causing your core to pulse and drip with arousal at the thought. 

You could only stare back at him, his breath fanning your face as you took in his words. He knew he planted a seed in you that wouldn’t go away until it was satisfied. The smug look on his face only proved it. You didn’t get the chance to reply before you could hear Ron getting up from his place on the bench. 

“Bunny, come with me,” he said innocently enough to the ears of everyone else in the group, but you could hear the edge in his voice. 

You detangled yourself from Fred and rose up from your spot, taking Ron’s hand as he silently led you back into the house. Once you had passed through the threshold into the kitchen and away from the eyes of everyone else, he spun around to face you. 

“And what was all that about?” He asked, stepping right into your space so you had no other choice but to look up at him. 

“N-nothing. We were just having a chat,” you stuttered out, trying to not seem intimidated. 

“Wasn’t what it looked like to me. Spill it,” he said roughly, continuing to back you up until your back hit the counter, leaving you nowhere to go when his hands were placed on either side of your body. 

“Promise you won’t get mad,” you half heartedly requested. 

“Just tell me.” 

“He- he said, um, he said that we should try to make you jealous,” you told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was only a half truth at best. 

“That’s not what has you blushing like a virgin though, is it? What did he say to you?” He pressed, the fire in his eyes growing larger by the second. 

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you even opened your mouth, knowing this could only go one of two ways. He’d either blow up entirely, or you’d have a night you’d never forget. “He said that if I begged you you’d let him and George join us,” you said quickly, all in one breath. 

You shut your eyes, waiting for his response. But when a chuckle fell from his lips your eyes shot back open in shock. 

“Is that what you want, bunny? Do you want them to join us?” He asked, his eyes now more playful than they had been just seconds prior. 

“Are you serious?” You asked after a moment, you head spinning that he was just offering this to you on a silver platter. You expected yelling, anger, the whole fit. You didn’t expect a cheeky smirk and twinkling eyes. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  

“They’re your brothers,” you argued. Why you were even arguing this, you weren’t sure. You wanted this and he knew it and they knew it. You just couldn’t understand why he was letting it happen. 

“It’s not like I’ll be fucking them,” he said with a laugh. “So, tell me what you want.” 

“If it’s okay with you…,” you started, trailing off. You looked up at him nervously, hoping your eyes conveyed enough of a plea that he would continue agreeing with you. 

“So beg,” he said, his voice dropping low as he continued to stare down at you. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just this once. I just - I - please,” you said, launching right into it but quickly running out of words as you watched the smirk grow on his face. 

“Go to my room. Strip. I’ll be up in a minute,” he told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading back outside. You watched his figure walk away for a moment, letting your mind race until you booked it up the stairs not wanting to wait any longer for the night to truly begin. 

~~~

You were waiting in your position on the bed for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes before you heard multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. You moved to cover your chest when you heard the doorknob turn, unsure if you should be exposed or not right away. 

Ron came in first but left the door open just enough so your guests could hear. “Last chance, bun. Do you want this?” He asked, slowly coming over to rest his hands on the bed, leaning over slightly so his tall form was eye level with you. 

You knew it wasn’t your last chance to say no, but it was your last chance before the twins waltzed in. 

You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, saying “Yes,” loud enough so Fred and George could hear. 

The door was opening once more, the twins walking through, both pairs of eyes immediately on you. When the door shut, you stared up at them, unsure what to do or say, but their matching smirk told you they already had plans. 

Ron walked around the bed until he crawled on to it behind you, his legs bracketing your hips as you knelt between his spread thighs. 

“Let them see you,” he coaxed gently, hands coming around you to grip your forearms. 

He only put a light pressure on your skin, letting you move on your own as you exposed your chest to them. They took you in with hungry eyes but they didn’t move from where they both stood before you, waiting. 

“All of you,” Ron spoke again, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gently prying them apart. 

You leaned back and hid your face in his neck as he repositioned you, unable to look the two men in the eyes as your entire body got exposed to them. You knew you were a dripping mess over the situation and the embarrassment of it being so obvious made you squirm. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re more perfect than I imaged,” you heard George say, the bed dipping down infront of you. 

Your eyes snapped to him, watching him as he looked down at your glistening sex. His eyes were hungry when they met yours, desperate. Probably the exact mirror of your own. 

“Can I touch you?” George asked, his fingers twitching against the sheets, waiting. 

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for one of them to do anything right now. 

George wasted no time in bringing his fingers directly to your cunt, trailing one long finger through your slit while his thumb trailed soft circles onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips when he pushed his finger in, immediately searching for you g-spot. 

As if your noises were a cue for Fred, the bed dipped on your other side and without a word, he was kissing down your chest. Soon enough, he was attacking your nipples when George was working your from the inside out. Your back was arching and your hips were moving at their own volition, unable to stop yourself under their ministrations.

“Does that feel good?” George asked you softly, placing kisses on your shoulder. 

When you only nodded, Ron grabbed your chin and forced you to look directly at George. “I won’t remind you again, bunny. Use yours words,” he said sweetly, but you knew there was danger laced in his words. You knew better than anyone else what he could do to you if he reminded you one more time. 

“Yes. Feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you told George, already breathless from the three men surrounding you. 

You felt Fred chuckle against your skin and you knew the smirk George was wearing was only mimicked by Ron’s behind you. They knew exactly what they were doing to you. 

You couldn’t stop the whine that left you when George removed his hand, but your eyes lit up when you saw him go to kneel at the edge of the bed. He pulled up his to the edge, draped your legs over his shoulder, and started trailing kitten licks all along your slit until his tongue was swirling around your clit. 

You held fell back against Ron’s shoulder, a moan falling from your lips as Fred moved to your other side to attack your opposite nipple. 

“Having fun?” Ron asked, beaming down at you. 

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes rolling back in your head with a flushed smile on your face. “Want you too,” you told him. 

“Of course you do, my greedy girl,” Ron mused, his finger coming to tilt your lips back and locking your lips in a kiss. 

Your body was overwhelmed with just their lips. You weren’t sure how you would handle it when their pants came off. 

Your hips were grinding down onto George’s face without you sparing it a second thought and you kept pushing your chest into Fred’s lips, your entire body grinding back on Ron’s body. 

“She tastes like fucking heaven,” George said, finally coming up for a breath. His entire chin was soaked in his own saliva and your juices and his eyes were blown with lust. 

Ron made a noise of agreement that was swallowed up by your lips, but you were ripped away from your boyfriend by George’s grip on your neck. He pulled you into a kiss with him, tasting yourself on his tongue, as Fred trailed kisses down your body until he was getting a taste of you for himself. 

Fred quickly brought you your orgasm, his tongue so deep inside of you that your toes were curling. Your hands had a monster grip on Ron’s thighs and every noise you made got swallowed by George, his lips hot on yours. 

You finally relaxed your body against Ron’s, his chest being the perfect place to settle against, as your body calmed down. 

“Think you can handle all three of us?” Fred asked cheekily, looking up at you from his place on the floor. 

You gave a shaky nod, but in your head you were unsure how this would even work. You never thought you’t get this far to even have considered it. 

That line of thought was abruptly cut off when Ron grabbed your hair and yanked back so you were looking up at him again. “What did I say about using your words?” He asked darkly.

“Yes, I want to. I can,” you got out breathlessly, still basking in the sting of your scalp. 

“Good,” Ron said, now satiated with your words. “Get on your hands and knees for us, bunny.” 

He gave you one last searing kiss before releasing you, letting you adjust your own shaky limbs on the bed until you were in the position he instructed you to be in. As you did that, the boys began stripping themselves of their clothes, Fred and George both strategically in your line of sight depending on which way you turned your head. 

You watched as they both ripped their shirts over their heads, a sight you were accustomed to thanks to many sweaty afternoons in the yard playing Quidditch. But you didn’t know where to look as they peeled down their jeans and briefs, relieving both of their impressive lengths. They were both around the same length, but Ron was thicker than both of them. No matter what, you knew you’d be sore in the morning. 

“This is how it’s gonna work, bunny,” Ron said, finally rounding the bed so he could see you. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt,” he told you, adding emphasis of his possession when he bent over and easily hooked two fingers inside of you, pressing directly on your g-spot. You jumped at the abrupt action, but you never broke your eye contact with him.

“Fred’s going to fuck that tight ass,” he continued, and you watched as Fred rounded the bed until he was behind you. 

“And George is gonna fuck that cute face,” Ron finished, George coming up on the other side of you to grip your face to force you to look at him. 

“Does that sound good, sweetheart?” George asked, looking down at you fondly. 

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you said, your hips beginning to move against nothing now that Ron had removed his fingers, searching for any ounce of friction you can get. 

They moved in almost perfect sync. Ron maneuvered his way underneath you swiftly, George pulled your head off to the side so your mouth was lined up with the tip of his cock, and you could feel Fred’s lube covered fingers breach the entrance of your tightest hole all at once. You were overwhelmed in the best way, unsure what to do with yourself but totally just along for whatever ride they were about to bring you on. 

When Ron fucked up into you roughly, George immediately pushed your head down to feel the full effects of your moan of his cock, causing a shiver to run through his body. They were practically fucking your mouth and core in tandem, one pulling out while the other brutally thrust in. 

You felt as if you were splitting open for them already, but when Fred’s cock finally lined up with your entrance and began pushing in, you practically saw stars. 

George let you pull away from him for a moment so you could breath through the new pressure inside of you, your head now buried in Ron’s neck as you panted and moaned. Ron had slowed down his thrusts to match with Fred, balancing you on the precipice of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for us, Y/N. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel so good. You’re gonna be so pretty when you cum for us,” Ron mused quietly in your ear, knowing that you’d latch on to his voice to get you through the intensity. 

Finally, your hips starting moving against theirs, a silent signal you were ready for them to fuck you, all three of them truly went wild with you body. 

George dragged your face back over to him, letting you do your own thing but keeping a steady hand in your hair in case you tried to pull away. Ron and Fred were fucking into you in perfect sync, pulling out and fucking into you at the same time. 

It was so intense you were shaking, only being held up by three strong pairs of hands at this point. But you couldn’t hide how good it was making you feel. Even as deep as George’s cock was down your throat, it was barely muffling the screams of pleasure you were giving them. You just hoped someone remembered to cast a silencing charm. 

You could hear them talking around you, a mix of praises directed at you and words shared between themselves. “Fuck, you feel so good” and “Just like that” mixed with “She feels like fucking heaven” and “Her mouth is a dream”. You could barely hear them over the blood pumping through you, but you knew you’d remember it later with a blush and a smile. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Swallow it all for me,” George told you, bruising your hair out of your sweaty face. You felt the unmistakable twitch of his cock just before he spilled his cum inside of your mouth and fucked it down your throat, giving you no choice but to follow his request. He came with one of the prettiest noises you had ever heard, and you knew you’d want to hear it again someday if you were lucky enough. 

You pulled away from George panting, finally able to have a minute to catch your breath as Fred and Ron continued to pound furiously into you, your body jolting with every deliberate thrust. 

“Ron, please I’m so close,” you begged, for what you weren’t entirely sure, but you knew he’d know what to do. All you could focus on was how close you were, how tightly you were gripping both of your cocks, and trying your best to balance on shaky arms so you didn’t collapse. 

Without missing a beat, Ron turned his head to George. “Touch her clit,” he told him, finally sounding breathless from all the work he was putting in. 

Fred’s arms came around you to pull you up until your back was against his chest, giving George full access to your most sensitive spot. 

“Cum for us. Show us how much you loved this and cum for us,” Fred said low in your ear. 

Your eyes never left Ron’s as all three of them worked you closer and closer to the edge. As much as the twins were turning you on, this orgasm was for you boyfriend. Everyone you had was. He was the one that let this happen. Let them take you like this. And he was the one currently fucking your g-spot with every thrust it made your head spin. 

“Cum for me” was all Ron had to say, seeing and feeling just how close you were, for you to explode. 

Your vision went white and your whole body shook, the only thing keeping you grounded was Fred’s warm chest pressed against you. You knew the scream you were hearing was your own, but you couldn’t keep it quiet no matter how hard you tried. You pulsed around their cocks, milking them of their own orgasms as you were going through yours. You felt their cum fill you completely, another moan leaving your mouth at how erotic it felt. 

When you finally felt as though you had come back down to real life, you were settled against Ron’s chest, his cock still in you, while the twins were busying themselves with getting dressed. They were talking quietly while Ron ran his hand up and down along your back, just waiting until you were finally back in the present. 

George was the first one to notice your eyes had opened again when he finally got his pants back on. He walked over to the bed and knelt down so he was almost eye level with you. 

“That was wonderful, darling. You were perfect,” he told you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before righting himself only for Fred to take his place. 

“What he said,” Fred told you with a smirk and mimicking his twin's kiss to your forehead. “We’ll see you two lovebirds in the morning,” he added with a wink. 

They both made their way out of the room, the door clicking behind them, leaving you and Ron in a blissed out silence. 

“Did you have fun?” He finally asked, tilting his neck so he was looking down at you. 

“I did. Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. 

“My girl always gets what she wants. You just have to ask, bunny,” He said, placing a kiss on your nose. 

When you moved your lips up to move against his, he stopped you with a chuckle. “No offense but my brother did just cum in your mouth. So let’s go get you cleaned up so I can kiss you properly, yeah?” He asked, wrapping a blanket around you so he could get you down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be weird about it,” you grumbled under your breath as he adjusted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. 

“That’s different and you know it,” he said defensively as he made his way for the door, making you giggle.

[nightswithkookmin]

normally i wouldnt say anything but……..did u even read namjoon’s letter he himself said they werent beating around the bush that what he said ”A” wasnt code for something ”B”. whatever they said was what they meant. if they say they dont want and they arent going to disband then maybe they mean it? why do you have to theorize about everything. also if they hated being in bangtan so much pretty sure they wouldnt have taken up offers for a schedule together 8 years from now

And who is saying theorizing they are disbanding or want to disband on this side of the blr??

Yall have started haven't you?

Yoongi explicitly said in that live " it's not like we are disbanding." So way to state the obvious.

They going solo which is what that dinner was about and all I'm saying out here is they went about it in poor taste. Can't I say that? And can't I believe they have no intention of disbanding and still believe their Solo stage news was handled poorly?? Is that too complex for you to wrap your head around?

They said what they said. They meant what they said. Yea. And I said what I said and meant what I said. THEY COULD HAVE HANDLED THIS BETTER.

Point to the map and show me where your confusion lie. Here's a pointor🔪

"If they hated being in bangtan so much" bla bla bla doesn't change the fact THAT IS HOW THEY CAME OFF AS. They came off to me, in my opinion, from my point of view, in my sight direction as people who couldn't wait to quit making OT7 music to start a solo career. Which is all I'm saying out here.

they did come off as too happy to put the OT7 schtick behind them which I find annoying and disappointing- Joonie also said some will be disappointed. Well I am one of them some. Disappointed as hell yet also happy that their solo journey has finally began.

And i know your problem is not with my opinion but with me as a person which tends to cloud your judgement very often and lead you to make pointless counter arguments such as this. Hate will get you no where.

Also

CAN I SHARE MY FRUSTRATION? CAN I SHARE MY DISAPPOINTMENT AND PROCESS?? SO ANNOYING WITH THAT SANCTIMONIOUS ATTITUDE.

"Normally I wouldn't say anything" should have listened to your conscience and shut up damn. Junped the gun huh.

At least Namjoon is perceptive and self aware on that to anticipate how some of us would feel. Gain some perspective please.

Love all 7. We are 7. How many times were they asked about their solo careers for them deflect and regurgitate that whole 0t7 shit rainbows unicorns.

Do you know the hate Jungkook recieved for daring to dream of a solo stage or wanting to try it out?? This grown ass man had to take back his words and clarify he didn't want to go solo when he talked about going solo.

Do you know how many solos and innocent people OT7s have terrorized abused tormented deplatformed just for supporting this idea of a solo career prior to all of this??

And it's the same BTS who by their words and actions fueled these ot7 nutheads and made them so rabid and intolerant of individual stans. Until their dinner, being a solo stan was a slur in this fandom and Im sure people like you even speculated I was a solo to get people to hate me. Yet you are gonna waltz in here with no depth whatsoever and act like it's not a fucking big deal. You are nuts.

It's the disconnect for me. Lmho.

You Hybe and BTS are all disconnected and out of touch with reality.

And whether you think they handled this news poorly or not, there is a plummeting stock sales chart out there which is an opinion on how that vlive went.

Don't just take my frustrations for it. At least my emotions are subjective but numbers don't lie now do they??

if your point here is that BTS love BTS as a band i agree. They should love the band that's given their solo careers a head start. BTS is where it all started for them. So I agree no debate over that.

If your point is BTS still love and want to make music as a group going forward in the here and now I think you need to watch that Vlive again. Because Namjoon does sound like he's done there. Has nothing to write for the group and is exhausted. He said what he said. He didn't beat around the bush about that.

Now can i grieve over that?? But really I don't need your permission at all. Shit.

BTS love their group but they don't want to carry on making music as a group for now sums it up for me. If they meant something else to you I'm all ears. Enlighten me.

GOLDY

[angelicmichael]

What if Xavier had a kid he didn't know about and he meets them for the first time after he's already a ghost? Maybe there's a kindergarten group that takes a trip to the camp, and he just has this spirit intuition as soon as he sees them and KNOWS it's his child. Do you think you could expand on this idea? I'd love to see what you come up with!

A/N: This was so fun, thank you for this idea dear anon!! I'm sorry it's late but hopefully u like it 😶. Also, I apologize this is so dark and heavy- I didnt intend for it.. it just, kinda happened lmfao. I turned this into a 'x reader' and it starts with Xaviers POV and ends with readers perspective!! First few paragraphs are pretty dark and then the rest is weird.. angst fluff LOL.Hope yall enjoy 💖💖💖

Warnings: First few paragraphs discuss Xavier's thots about dying SO, it highkey gets dark yall I'm so sorry, mentions of anger?? issues, mentions of murder, stops getting dark roughly around paragraph 6 if u wanna skip all that, MAJOR ANGST, reuniting, very brief Xantana reference 😈, mention of kids, bit of fluff.. think that's it :)

In Xaviers eyes; the worst part of being killed in a desolate camp and having to reside there for the rest of eternity; wasnt the fact that he would have to handle Richard Rameriez and tolerate his peers for eons to come. Sure, both of those things required an adjustment period but.. the realization that his life with you was abruptly cut short, was what truly broke him.

It took him being stripped from everything he once knew to truly appreciate how heavenly life once was before Camp Redwood. He had a steady job, good friends, and a relationship with a actual living, breathing person.. Not to shade Montana or anything, of course. However he had taken all of those things for fucking granted; moving to Camp Redwood definetly had made him become humble- at the very least. He was now nothing but a mere shell of the person he once was; nothing to bring him out of this absolute living nightmare he found himself in.. At first this mindset nearly consumed him, it drove him to kill multiple times.

There was no point in trying to conceal the anger he felt, no way of trying to channel it out into a more socially appropriate way and at this point.. there really was no point in trying to do so. Out here in the forest, espically after he was killed, life outside of the forest soon seemed as if it was some type of myth or fairytale- something not real or attainable. Time in the redwood forest felt different- days quickly bled and melted into weeks, and then months.. trying to guess the date was something Xavier gave up on doing after about the first week.

As much as he tried to deny it, being dead and becoming trapped here had completly made him lose his grip on reality and his previous life. Soon enough, the thought that life even fully existed outside of the camp and that there was actual fucking laws against killing (something which was now a leisurely hobby) had completly slipped his mind momentarily in the beginning as well. Out here in the forest, nothing felt real execpt for his anger that he held onto so tightly.

It was really the only thing he had left; atleast for a while.

The pain of losing his partner, (y/n), still remained but letting that grief not consume him was easily the hardest battle he had fought in his life. Xavier realized he still had his friends - and if he really was going to live for eternity, he sure wasnt going to spend it angry.

After so many years of being 'cursed' to spend forever in this forest, keeping track of the time was something Xavier rarely bothered with, but - it was obvious by the suns posistion, and even the slight mist that made the grass wet that it was just starting to cut into morning. Xavier walked through the forest alone, nowhere in particular to go or to necessarily do, only a sudden need to go and be alone. Almost a beckoning, for him to go and be somewhere else. To witness something.

His days were more often than not purely mundane; he had absolutely no excuse to not listen to this odd and sudden attraction he felt toward a very particular spot in the camp.. so, that's what brought him to where he stood now. Close to the road that brought visitors (a nice word for victims) into Camp Redwood, right next to the mess hall which was rarely used close by.

Xavier felt wildly uncomfortable standing so close to the place which previously held so much trauma - and honestly still did.. The place where Chef Bertie died. Xavier paused, about to just say 'fuck it' and just give up and go back to where his friends resided (or atleast Montana) when.. he heard it.

His sign, the thing that seemingly enticed him in the first place.

It first sounded like the old, familar sounds of tires coming across a gravel road - Xaviers mind immeadietly jumped to perhaps this could be new people.. new vistors.. new victims.

His blood ran cold when he heard something else; an eerie ringing of chains hitting against the ground. Something that was mostly a associated with buses.. and hauntingly familar. He had little to no time to think or even act on his suspicion when he noticed that a yellow school bus full, and nearly combusting with children was pulling into the camp.

Xavier wasnt exactly certain the bounds that ghosts had when it came to certain bodily functions like vomiting, but hes sure that under normal circumstances he would certainly be sick by now. Nevertheless he could feel his body tense up and the other natural symptoms associated with anxiety also kicked in. Urging him to clumsily get out of vision; he stumbled behind a few trees that poorly blocked him from sight. He continued to watch in complete and utter horror as the bus came to a stop, and it didnt take long for kids to start pouring out of the bus. Xavier felt his heart drop and his blood run cold every time a kid exited the bus and stepped on the dirt soil of Camp Redwood.

Xavier whipped his head around; scanning the surrounding area to make sure no other ghosts were here to bear witness to this.. Xavier was nearly always down to commit murder, it was really the only thing that kept him from fully going insane from pure fucking boredom but - kids? There was no fucking way he would let anyone touch them.

While he thoroughly scanned the area, he noticed a few adults leave the bus out of his periphery vision. He thought nothing of it, chaperones were to be expected on elementary field trips but.. the strange beckoning feeling he felt ealier visited him again, urging him to turn his head fully and look at one of the chaperones more closely. Instantaneously, he then automatically realized why he felt so compelled to come to this spot.. Why he was meant to be here at this exact moment.. It was you.

At first he thought he was merely hallucinating; you definetly looked significantly different from the last time he had saw you but.. he knew it was you, his partner that he had before his life completly went to shit (minus the catastrophe that occured with Blake, of course). He knew instantly, it was your eyes, your stature and just.. your overall warm and familiar aura that gave your identity away. He couldnt believe that the person he had so fucking desperately wanted to see more than anyone or anything was only a few feet away - and now, that you were finally here... All he wanted for you to do was to leave.

As soon as he saw you he felt a sudden tightness posses his chest and throat which accompanied the formation of tears burning his eyes; hastily blurring his vision. He had to physically restrain himself from sobbing outloud; trying his best to just swallow down his tears. His whole body felt as if it was on fire with anxiety, but he chose to continue to stand still behind a few dainty trees - trying to pull himself together so he could actually have the chance to think critically and choose what the ever living fuck he was going to do next.

While he waited for his blurry vision to clear, he chose to focus on the semi distant figure that he knew was you. He took in the little details; like how the sun highlighted the colors in your hair and your simple but charming outfit. It took him several moments to think of why you would even be here in the first place, with a school bus- and thats when another dreadful realization hit him.

Only parents were mainly chaperones when it came to elementary field trips.. meaning-

No other thought crossed Xaviers mind as his eyes flicked down inhumanely fast to the child where (y/n) stood next too.. and immeadietly he knew.

The features the child shared of both you and Xavier were partially a giveaway, but most importantly.. it was the feeling he had that confirmed his belief. The initial anxiety he felt of the kids arriving still remained but was significantly muted and mostly replaced with a overwhelming sense of pure love. The feeling spread to every fiber of his being, and so did a odd urge to protect this small being which he knew was his.

Not ever in his entire life had he felt this way about someone (execpt for perhaps, you). He felt himself taking a few steps forward, at first completly involuntary but he knew he had to talk to you. Just the idea of reuniting tasted so fucking good but, he knew he couldnt get too greedy if he was going to talk to you. He knew confronting you had to be solely done in order to save you and his child, he couldnt get carried away. He wouldnt.

He tried his best to appear casual as he submerged from behind the trees, his hands held behind his back - the only way he could get them to stop shaking. He tried to relax his shoulders and appear confident as he strided up to you; your back turned toward him. He continued until he was directly behind you, he wanted to tap your shoulder but - touching you seemed out of the question. That would confirm everything, it would make it seem actually real and not like this just some torturous dream.

"(Y/n)"? He spoke.

Xaviers breath hitched as he watched you whip around to face him. He studied your features as you went from looking utterly confused to surprised beyond belief.

"Xavier, what-"

"We need to talk".

Xavier quickly grabbed your hand, leading you away from herd of kids and the few sparse chaperones that were amongst them. A few of them gave you two a few odd looks but neither you or Xavier particularly cared, after all this was the first time in years you two had seen eachother. You hastily followed his lead, feeling slightly embarrassed that it was obvious how nervous and simply caught off guard you currently were. Your palms (one of which was still holding onto Xaviers hand) were starting to moisten with sweat. These feelings only amplified once Xavier turned around to face you. The intensity that was in his eyes put you on edge - never in your time of dating or knowing him did he ever look so serious with you.

"What are you doing here"? Xavier spoke, his voice was still in a higher pitch, slightly breaking.

"What"?

After years of not being able to see you, in fact; years of you not even knowing where he went - this was how he chose to greet you?? Automatically your blood ran cold with the sudden realization that something was wrong. Seriously wrong.. but the feeling didnt just apply to your ex boyfriend. It was the entire camp.

"Its not safe here, you need to take the kids and leave". Xaviers voice more visibly shook this time as he spoke; as if his words physically pained him.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sudden pain and anguish starting to fully settle in. You couldnt believe it; after years of not seeing you - this was all he had to say? Was he fucking joking?

"What? A-are you kidding? Xavier, I havent seen you in years- I didnt even know you would be here-"

"I'm sorry (y/n). I'm so sorry but you have no idea what this place is like. You just need to go, and the kids. And promise me you wont come back".

It was torturous to watch tears gather in Xaviers eyes, and watch as they streaked down his cheeks. The sadness you previously felt was now washed away with red, hot rage. The feeling spread throughout your body like a wildfire that he was seemingly rejecting you.. but you knew now this wasnt some pathetic excuse. Something was seriously wrong here; and now it was starting to become too obvious to ignore.

Xavier looked hauntingly the exact same from the last time you saw him. He forever, looked as if he was still stuck in the same moment of time - like in the summer of 1984, which was when you last saw him.

You didnt realize you were still holding onto one of his hands until you reflexively tried to move it to brush away his tears that were still staining his cheeks; but awkwardly.. you chose to do so with your other hand. Squeezing the one hand you were still holding onto a bit tighter.

He winced as you touched him, and as much you tried your damn best to hold it together - you could feel tears starting to burn your eyes as well.

"I cant promise I wont ever come back, Xavier. I need to see you again, and what about-" you said softly, about to reference the child you two shared together.

"No, you'll see me again (y/n). I promise.. okay"?

He brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles; the tears you trying so desperately to hold in were now sliding down your cheeks. Your breathing was now horribly choppy. You were on the brink of full on sobbing but you held yourself back - it was nearly time for you to go.

The fact you would have to go back to go the others and make up some bullshit excuse to leave, put a bitter taste in your mouth.. but your sure Xavier had a valid reason for ushering you to leave. Even if he didnt want to tell you right now; you trusted him with your life.

"Okay.. Fine. I'm coming back though, and I'm sorry I couldnt find you sooner". You admitted.

You dropped his hand that you were still holding in order to wrap your arms around him. To get one final touch to remember him by. You were desperate to fully touch him and to be wrapped in his embrace, something you had desperately and madly missed. As he held you; you tried to soak in his scent, his aura.. just the fact that he was even here seriously with you, in this moment.

You previously assumed Xavier had passed away; that was easier to come to terms with rather than thinking he willingly ran away or.. that something else more sinister had happened. A part of you wanted to be frustrated that you were leaving with more questions than answers but.. you didnt care. Your heart didnt care. You were just happy you were able to see your boyfriend.. no matter the circumstance or conditions it came with. Even though you were stupidly happy, your thoughts kept annoyingly circling back to the same question - how was Xavier here with you, living.. breathing.. in the flesh. How was this possible? You were about to speak your thoughts outloud when you first felt Xavier break away from you. You didnt get as much as a second glance just when you felt something soft on your cheek. Perhaps a goodbye kiss? and then.. just like he wasnt there at all, he was gone. Almost as if he completly disintegrated into the fresh, morning sky.

You felt your entire body stiffen as you realized he was gone.. again. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how you felt. It was a nasty mix of both grief and anger that left you completly speechless and deathly still. You took a step back to combat the feeling, and attempted to look casual (and not like the person whom you were just hugging had completly fucking vanished). Sheepishly taking a look at the group you had arrived with and making sure none of them noticed your.. odd behavior.

Sure enough, none of them did. They all stood, and continued on conversing just like they were before you had broke away from them. Smiling and laughing as if nothing was wrong; just like they didnt have a care in the world - just as if the love of their life wasnt ripped away from them for a second time.

Even though Xavier was now gone, that odd, unsettling feeling still lingered with you. Like something was terribly wrong here, in Camp Redwood. The feeling wasn't entirely bad though; sure - the overall air in this place reeked of something terrible but.. now you felt something else mixed into it. A comforting essence of safety; Xaviers presence. You knew he wasnt directly beside you anymore but he was somewhere.. lurking. Watching you, as you begrudgingly walked over to the group you came with. Making up a bullshit excuse in your head so you could escape whatever this place was pretending to be.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instincts-baby let me know if u would like to be added!! :)

[writingxfootballl]

know that it’s you (g.w.)

(ginny weasley x reader)

it only took seven years for you to get your happy ending. 

warnings: mentions of death, light cursing, men, sarcasm, and no capitalization

word count: ~2.5k

a/n: first hp fic! hope i did okay- i tried my best to capture ginny’s character but it’s not perfect <3

format inspired by @ravenclawwriting ‘s masterpiece- “turning time”

title- hold on, flor

——

first year 

the aura of confidence she gives off smacks you straight in the face when she passes by you on the platform. 

not that you needed any help noticing her. 

her flowing red hair caught your eye almost immediately. 

oh how you wished to be her friend. 

~~

“gryffindor!” 

you let out a sigh of relief. 

slowly you pick yourself up and walk to the table, where the pretty red headed girl is sitting. 

she looks up and smiles at you, gesturing for you to take a seat next to her.

when you do, she sticks out her hand and introduces herself. 

“ginny weasley.”

taking her hand, you do the same. 

“y/n y/ln.”

~~

when ginny goes missing later that year, you blame yourself. 

you should’ve noticed that she was getting quieter and quieter.

you should’ve noticed that she would be gone for hours. 

you should’ve noticed. 

when she disappears for a few days, she takes your heart with her.

so when harry fucking potter swoops in and saves her, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and it feels like your heart can finally beat normally again. 

second year

now that you got her back, you were inseparable. 

screw fred and george, you were the new duo at hogwarts.

just kidding, no one could beat the iconic mischief seeking twins, but you sure gave professors a run for their money. 

the red headed girl always seemed to have something up her sleeve, and no matter good or bad, you followed her. 

~~

that summer, you’re invited to the burrow for the first time. 

the two of you share a room, and what started out as separate beds and shy company slowly turned into fleeting glances and lingering touches.

hand holding, cheek kisses and cuddling, all the “platonic” displays of affection. 

and then, ginny invites you to the quidditch world cup. 

you’ve never been a quidditch fan, but you’d go a thousand times over if she asked you. 

really, you’d do a lot of things if she asked you. 

third year

you can see her concern for harry when he gets drawn for the triwizard tournament.

it makes you want to rip his head off. 

and then, slowly, you begin to notice it all. 

how when you were constantly staring at ginny, her eyes followed a certain boy’s every move. 

how she’s a flushed, nervous, bumbling wreck around him, so different from the confident and assured girl you knew.

it makes you want to rip his head off even more.

but you don’t know why. 

harry’s always been a nice guy. 

arrogant, sure, but a nice guy, certainly someone you shouldn’t hate.

so you ask hermione. 

~~

the golden girl just laughs when you tell her. 

“oh, my dear y/n, you’re just jealous.”

now you’re even more confused. 

“jealous? why would i be jealous?”

hermione chuckles a little bit and looks up from her book. 

“you fancy her y/n.”

you scoff a little at that. 

“me? fancying ginny? no way!”

hermione rolls her eyes and motions for you to leave her to her studying, before mumbling quietly:

“no wonder you were sorted into gryffindor and not ravenclaw.”

~~

you’re determined to somehow prove hermione wrong.

so when seamus asks you to the ball, you consider accepting. 

but then you think about ginny.

your sweet, beautiful ginny.

you tell him you’ll get back to him, before running across the school to the courtyard, where you know she’s at. 

your question somehow makes it through the panted breaths and heaves. 

“would you like to go to the yule ball with me?”

ginny’s face splits into a grin. 

“i would love to.”

~~

when you see ginny at the ball, you have to remember how to breathe. 

“you look stunning.”

ginny blushes a little at your compliment. 

“so do you.”

your heart races in your chest at her words. 

you clear your throat at the silence that follows and- 

“so, shall we dance?”

you smile and nod graciously, taking her hand and following.

with one of her hands on your waist and the other tightly clasped in yours, hermione’s words flash in your mind.

“you fancy her y/n.”

your eyes meet and you can’t believe you’ve never taken the time to admire how much of a golden honey color they are. 

but then. 

of course. 

“hey um- could i speak to you ginny?”

dean fucking thomas.

ginny lets go of you almost immediately. 

she glances at you apologetically, and despite the nagging ache in your chest, you nod and let her go.

after she leaves with him, the rest of the ball passes in a blur, where you can’t focus on anything else except the tenuous strain of your heart. 

maybe hermione was right after all.

fourth year

turns out hermione was right. 

so very very right. 

ginny had you wrapped around her finger. 

and for the most part, this year wasn’t bad. 

with the exception of dean of course. 

when he comes into the picture, it shatters you. 

but she couldn’t know that. 

so you listened to her talk about him, biting back the i could treat you better from the tip of your tongue. 

~~

despite the fact that ginny has a boyfriend, the two of you grow closer. 

you’re both members of the DA, helping each other with spells and practicing in your free time.

“ugh gin it’s not working-“

ginny rolls her eyes at you. 

“it’s not that hard y/nn, do you want to watch me do it again?”

you nod enthusiastically and ginny giggles a little. 

“alright move aside then.”

you move and watch from the side, somehow ending up eyeing along her side profile rather than watching her hex. 

eyebrows furrowed, lip bitten in concentration-

dear godric she’s so pretty-

“y/n are you even watching?!”

you shake your head and blush before stuttering out: 

“u-uh, s-sorry could you d-do it again?”

ginny watches you with an amused smirk and takes a step in, closer to you. 

“you’re kind of cute you know that?” 

her finger tracing your jaw, she emphasizes the end of her sentence with a pop and a nose tap.

your mouth drops open, and all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks.

ginny steps away and seeing that you were still frozen there, turns back and teases: 

“aw come on y/n, the bat bogey hex isn’t going to learn itself now is it?”

merlin, this girl was going to be the death of you. 

~~

when ginny tells you she broke up with dean, you want to go out and scream in happiness.

but instead, you stay put and say, “aw gin im so sorry, i’ll be here if you need me.”

you’re woken up later that night when ginny crawls into bed with you. 

with her face buried in your neck and her hands wrapped loosely around your waist, you can’t help the smile teasing the corners of your lips.

it’s everything you’ve ever asked for.

fifth year

then, fifth year happens.

you could see harry and ginny growing closer and closer, and it felt like she was leaving you behind. 

your weekly hogsmeade trips slowly became less and less intimate, as the golden trio began joining the two of you.

a butterbeer was poked at mindlessly with a straw by you at the three broomsticks, all while listening to ginny chat with harry, and ron chat with hermione. 

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny and harry disappear together after a little while. 

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny starts spending less time in your room, and more time in his. 

it doesn’t surprise you when you spot ginny with her head on his shoulder one day.

it doesn’t surprise you, but it still stings. 

it stings a lot.

sixth year

the golden trio is gone for almost the entirety of this year. 

before they leave, harry breaks up with ginny, and she doesn’t react really. 

she accepts it. 

but you’re there for her even if she says she’s fine and she doesn’t need it. 

then one day, she needs it. 

~~ 

you walk into your room to see her sitting on her bed. 

it takes you a second to realize she’s crying. 

you’re by her side immediately.

“oh gin- what’s wrong?”

she doesn’t say anything, just turning to you and without a word, you wrap your arms around her. 

and you stay like that for a while. 

when she goes quiet, you whisper out:

“gin?” 

and then you realize she’s fallen asleep. 

you try to bite back your poorly contained smile, gently guiding the girl off your shoulder and onto your lap. 

you softly tuck a loose, fiery red strand behind her ear, a blush lightly tinting your cheeks when she exhales softly in her sleep.

merlin, i love you.

your cheeks flush even more when she grasps the front of your robes, pulling herself even closer to you. 

with your heart hammering in your chest, it’s a wonder ginny hasn’t woken up yet.

you pull out your transfiguration textbook quietly, and try your best to focus on the page, rather than the girl laying there on your lap. 

it doesn’t work. 

but for once, all is well. 

~~

eventually, you get absorbed into your studies, distracted enough to miss the girl on your lap beginning to stir.

your brows are furrowed as you scribble down the last words of your essay, and you bring your quill up to your lips before ginny’s hand gently pushes them away, startling you. 

“don’t do that, you’ll stain your teeth.”

you blush sheepishly and drop your hand.

“you’re awake.”

ginny smiles. 

“well i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you grin softly.

“i suppose you are.”

ginny rolls her eyes and sighs, her brown eyes locking with yours immediately after.

her hand comes up to tuck a loosed strand of hair behind your ear and suddenly, the air seems to thicken. 

for a moment, neither of you move, too caught up in each other’s eyes. 

when ginny’s eyes drop down to your lips you can hear your breath catch in your throat. 

you feel yourself being pulled in by some invisible force, your eyes dropping down- 

then neville knocks on the door, and just like that, the spell is broken. 

“y/n- oh hey ginny.”

ginny sits up and darts away from you so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked.

“what’s up nev?”

neville shuffles nervously. 

“sorry for catching you at a bad time- um it’s just that professor mcgonagall wanted to see-.”

“all right i’ll be there in a minute.”

neville nods and then, it’s back to the two of you. 

it’s quiet for a moment before you both speak. 

“you should-“

“i really-“

both of you stop and flush a little before you continue. 

“i really should go see what that was about.”

ginny nods and gestures for you to leave. 

and you do, not before taking her hand and pulling her up into a tight hug.

“i’ll see you later?” 

ginny nods. 

“yeah. later.”

~~

when the golden trio returns to hogwarts and all hell breaks loose, the two of you are separated. 

in fact, you haven’t seen most of the weasleys since the war began. 

you’re left alone with neville for the majority of the fight, and you spend most of it worrying about ginny. 

one day when you’re just walking along the edge of the forbidden forest, you catch a glimpse of red hair on the opposite side of the field. 

your breath catches in your throat.

as you get closer, you can tell who it is. 

and then you start running. 

~~

your body almost collides with hers as you wrap your arms around her. 

at first, there’s relief.

“you’re here you’re here you’re-“

ginny shushes you and pulls you in tighter, drawing out the sob you tried to hard to keep down. 

then the relief turns to anger. 

and frustration. 

you pull away from the hug abruptly and ginny sends a confused look your way. 

“ginevra molly weasley! if you ever, ever do that again i’ll-“

“aw, seems like someone missed me.”

you scoff.

“don’t joke! i thought you were killed- gin you have no idea i was so worried- worried about where you were, what you did-“

the rest of your confession is cut off when ginny grabs your tattered tie, pulls you in, and kisses you. 

it’s quick.

lips unmoving, it’s really more of a peck than a kiss. 

but it still hit you the same way. 

ginny pulls back abruptly when you don’t react, but taking the smile that graced your lips as a good sign, leans back in. 

this time, you’re ready for her.

your arms wrap around her neck, her’s falling to your waist, and finally, you’re content. 

it’s soft and sweet and then there’s tongue and lips and teeth and you really can’t believe this is happening-

“hey y/n! quit snogging my sister!”

ron’s exclamation startles you. 

you flush red, and break the kiss, trying to pull away from ginny out of embarrassment, but she keeps an arm firmly attached to your waist. 

hermione grins next to ron.

“about time you two. about time.”

~~

harry defeats he who must not voldemort in probably what is the most anticlimactic final battle ever.

but just like that, 

the war’s over.

seventh year

propped against a tree, ginny runs a hand through your hair, the other tangled with yours in front of your chest. 

“hey.”

ginny smiles softly down at you. 

“hey to you too.”

“i love you.”

the red headed girl smiles and leans down to give you a soft kiss before replying.

“i love you too y/n.”

your smile is almost blinding, and out of pure happiness, you confess:

“i’ve loved you since third year gin, did you know that?”

the red headed girl almost looks surprised.

“i was gross third year.”

you scoff and mutter: 

“you could never be gross.”

ginny just laughs and leans down again. 

“i love you y/n. i really do. i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.”

you look up at your girlfriend with pure adoration in your eyes.

with her lips on yours and fingers tangled together, it felt like the world was finally at peace again. 

ginevra weasley was your happily ever after. 

cheesy ending, but i loved writing this one.. i hope you guys like it too <3

[drspencerweed]

uhhh a blurb idea (maybe a one shot if you are feelin it :) )

the team is out for drinks and they are playing put a finger down (oh how original) and someone says "put a finger down if you like to give head more than receiveing" and both y/n and spencer puts a finger down and the team is like what?? and y/n says "idk receiveing has always been weird for me" and spencer says "idk maybe youve always been with wrong people" 😁😁😁

then smut ensues idk what else i can add to this but i hope u can 😁💕

hope this gets ur creative juices flowing 😁😁😁

ooo i love this idea! i love the idea of the team playing games like this :) I changed it a little to ‘take a drink if’ just because I love drinking games lmao nsfw mentions under the cut! 

this kind of got away from me i dont know how to write blurbs. also i didnt write the actual smut part but i may return to this someday lmao this is about 1k

---

“Okay, take a drink if you prefer to give head over receiving it.” Emily said, looking around the table. Penelope and Tara both laughed out loud while Morgan eagerly took a drink.

“As if.” Tara commented. Emily’s eyes raised at Spencer as he also reached out to take a sip. You kept your eyes down as you quickly grabbed your drink and took a sip as well. When your eyes raised back up, everyone’s eyes were burning into youAn in shock. You coughed into your hand. 

“What? Can a girl not like sucking dick?” You asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a false sense of bravado. Spencer coughed next to you. 

“I never said I don’t like it, just that I like receiving more.” Penelope argued with an arched brow. 

“Yea, well, receiving has never been spectacular for me anyways.” You elaborated with a shrug. The girls at the table all shook their head in disappointment, while Morgan just looked appalled. Next to you, you felt Spencer tense. You were too scared to see what his reaction was. You had a crush on him for so long, and discussing your past sexual experiences with him pressed against you from shoulder to thigh was not making it any better. 

“Sounds like you haven’t been with the right person.” Spencer suddenly commented. You turned to him in shock. He was always a reluctant participant of these games, never really weighing in on the dirtier elements of the discussions. He was very private when it came to the details of his sex life, and didn’t seem inclined to know the details of anyone else's either. 

When you turned to look at him, you found him already staring back at you. He took a long, slow, sip of his drink, and the heavy maintenance of eye contact nearly made you melt. “Maybe not.” You admitted. Spencer simply shrugged and then the two of you turned your attention back to the table, where the rest of the team was looking at both of you with knowing smirks. 

“Anyway, it’s my turn right?” You said, trying to ease the tension in the room. The game continued on without mention of your head preferences, and everything seemed to go back to normal. Spencer was still pressed up against you because of how the booth was situated, and your mind kept drifting the heat that radiated off of him where your thighs met. 

After a few rounds the game came to a natural end and everyone began talking amongst themselves, Penelope dragging Emily and Morgan off to the dance floor. You were feeling the two drinks you had, just enough to make you slightly buzzed but not enough that you weren’t aware of your surroundings. Suddenly Tara was up getting another round, and it was just you and Spencer at the table. It was silent, but it wasn’t awkward. You were about to ask him how his mother was doing, when he beat you to the punch. 

“Have you really never had good head?” He asked. You spluttered, trying to get a hold of yourself. You turned to look at him, expecting his face to be teasing, but he looked as serious as ever. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you answered. 

“I guess not. I mean, it’s just never been spectacular.” You admitted. “To be fair, I can’t remember the last time it was with someone I actually liked.” You stared at your drink, leaving out the part where the reason for that was everyone you had recently has sex with hadn’t been him. 

“That can make all the difference. Studies show that having an emotional connection with someone can increase pleasure experienced during sex by almost one hundred percent.” He replied. You turned to stare at him as he rambled more about statistics in relationships. A smile spread across your face, his hand movements and animated face made you endlessly endeared. When another silence fell over the two of you, you made a slightly bolder move than you ever had before.

“So why do you prefer giving to receiving?” You asked. His eyebrows jumped up. 

“I-uh.” He stopped looking at you as he answered. “I guess I just like making my partner happy.” 

You let out a loud laugh, and his face fell, you immediately backtracked. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you! I just-I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone who prioritized my happiness, especially not during sex.” 

“Why anyone would treat you poorly is a mystery to me.” Spencer said sincerely. Your breath caught in your chest, a sliver of hope opening up in the way he spoke and looked at you. Before you could change the subject, he looked down at his drink and muttered, “I know if I had you I would never risk losing you.” Your heart fluttered at his words, the implications that he would want you at all. 

“You could have me.” Was all you said, quietly, staring at him as he stared at his glass. His eyes snapped to yours. 

“How?” He asked, taken aback. You giggled at his shocked face. He was probably the only person who hadn’t figured out your feelings. 

“All you’d have to do is ask.” You said, like it was obvious. A grin spread across his face, and he raised his hands to your cheeks, running his thumbs over them carefully. 

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, searching your face for any hesitation. You just bit down on your bottom lip and nodded, your hands coming up to grip at his wrists. His lips met yours softly, brushing together over and over before his tongue peeked out and slid across your bottom lip. 

You pulled back for a moment and nuzzled into his hand, smiling. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” He asked, pulling you in for another quick kiss. You laughed at his eagerness, amazed that this was even happening. 

“Nothing. I was planning to go home alone.” 

“Well, I’d like to change your mind about giving being better.” He whispered. You shivered lightly and nodded in response. 

“I am open to changing my opinion.” You smirked. He smiled and pulled you in for another kiss.

[kittydripuwu]

Hello, I'm the anon that requested the Dazai being kidnapped scenario and I didn't see it on your pinned post anymore. May I ask what happened to it / if I did anything wrong?

hi sorry omg, i posted it earlier but tumblr was acting up and i had to take it down and forgot to repost it! here u go :>

req - Can I request some angst to fluff where Dazai purposefully puts himself in a dangerous position and everyone thinks that he's dead so a usually stoic reader goes on a rampage in their grief on the organization that supposedly killed him during an agency raid but then finds out that he's alive? And reader hasn't confessed their feelings yet?

never again | dazai x reader

words - 1951

warnings - swearing, angst

genre - angst/fluff?

note - this is so poorly written im sorry my ideas were ALL over the place :’)

the long period of time in which the agency had upheld peace and quiet with all of the known criminal organizations in yokohama, had come to an end. the port mafia and the agency had started to notice odd and quite brutal murders around the city. at first, the agency thought it was the mafia going on a killing rampage, only to notice the method used to assasinate was quite different from the mafia's. whoever it was, they killed brutally, leaving an X cut into their victims throats. they were a bloodthirsty bunch and all they were here for was to kill and take over any other gifted organizations.

the agency had already dealt with a few attacks, but none with other ability users making it easy to fight them. everyone from this unknown organization seemed to dress in all black and wear sunglasses to cover their mysterious identities. when taken hostage, they wouldnt speak, no matter what was done to them, it was an impossible case.

you had been calm throughout everything the agency went through in the last few weeks, knowing that you and your fellow agency members knew how to fight well and deal with these kinds of situations. it was all peaceful and quiet that day when you were sitting in the office doing some work until, the agency building was yet again attacked. an ability user with an inferno ability, able to burn anything down to ash. they did not seem to seek destruction of the city but rather, the people in it. it was a difficult fight but you and your colleauges were able to get through it as always.

after this, the president of the armed detective agency declared it a case to find out more and stop this organization, but urged everyone to do it at a distance.

"whatever you do, do not go near anybody from this unknown group of people. they seem to seek bloodthirst, and will kill everyone in their path" he said during a meeting that occured that same day. you knew this wasn't going to be easy but you were going to try to do as much as you can to help.

it was getting pretty late and you had just finally finished some work, standing up and heading out the door to head home. you walked the streets cautiously, knowing that at this point in time, the city wasn't particularly safe. you ended up getting home with no troubles, and instanly falling asleep after a long and tiring day. meanwhile, there was still one person in the agency who was awake during the long hours of the night, and that was dazai osamu. despite what he was told by the president, he had his own plans for how he was going to find out information. he knew this could easily get him killed and he knew this was dangerous but it was the only way he could think of.

dazai's plan didn't seem all that bad to him, he was simply going to find one of them roaming the streets, disarm them and question them. he was aimlessly roaming the streets at night in search of one of the people dressed in black, with nothing on him but a loaded gun. he didn't really know why he chose such a dangerous plan, he knew there was a high chance that he could be killed but all of that didn't matter to him now. he, who had been concealing his emotions for too long, feeling empty and inhuman on this planet, felt somewhat at peace when coming this close to death. he kept trying to tell himself that if he died helping the agency, helping you, maybe everything would have been worth it after all, maybe the pain and suffering was worth something, maybe it would mean that he was finally a good person.

but no, none of these invasive thoughts were true, for when he ran into one of the unknown men dressed in black, he had broken a promise he made long ago to a dear friend.

he stood above the man who was on the ground now, disarmed. this man was unlike the others, he spoke. maybe it was dazai's forceful interrogation methods, or maybe it was just another man surrendering. he told dazai about the organization's intentions, where their base was and all about their powerful ability users. he told him that the only way to get rid of them, was to kill them all. they were a group of soulless men, wanting nothing more but to kill and take over yokohama.

"kill me" he pleaded after speaking to him about the organization.

"please kill me"

"why do you wish to die?" dazai asked him.

"there is no place for me in this world" he said simply.

this sparked something in dazai, he understood suffering very well and he could tell by this man's voice that he was in pain, and like dazai, he desired nothing more but to get a taste of sweet death.

"i'm sorry oda" he whispered to himself before shooting the man a few times.

after this, he continued to wander the empty streets, realising that the only way to fight them was going against agency rules. but he thought if he was able to do this on his own, maybe he could keep you and everyone at the agency, safe. he managed to reach the base of the place, and seeing no one around to gaurd it, he simply walked in. he managed to sneak through to what looked like a computer room. there were plenty of computers and different kinds of technology, but none of that mattered when he saw a usb on one of the desks in the room. he was quick to slip it into his pocket right before three men appeared in the doorway.

there was something different about these men, they didn't instantly shoot, but rather took him as a hostage. these men spoke aswell, they told him that they wouldn't kill him yet, but rather wanted to find out more about the other organizations in yokohama. they said they had questioned multiple people already, who gave them nothing of use and were brutally murdered. he was handcuffed and left to sit in this room until dawn.

you woke up feeling pretty sore and tired from all the events of the day before. after getting ready, you took your regular route to the agency with caution, ready to attack if need be. when you arrived at the office, you were informed that dazai never came back to the agency dorm that night, and that he had gone missing. normally, everyone including you would treat this as just dazai being dazai, but with the current state of the city, everyone began to panic. there was a meeting to discuss the next plan of action after multiple phone calls to him, resulting in no reply.

"dazai would never do this in such a situation"

"he wouldn't disrespect the presidents order's like this"

"not in a situation like this for sure"

"i agree, he may be reckless but not so much to go this far"

you sat through the meeting, mind filled with worry as you listened to what everyone was saying. you've always gotten along very well with dazai, and always found him to be a very interesting person. you hated to admit it but, you liked him, alot. you were too shy to confess to him for the longest time but you had promised yourself to finally do it after all of this was finally over.

"could he be dead?"

"ranpo help us out here"

"no can do, all i know is that he's most likely at thier base"

after being so caught up in your own thoughts, this managed to snap you back into reality. dazai osamu. dazai osamu was dead? no, you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn't even consider that but the thought kept coming back to haunt you.

"everyone search for him" said the president as he dismissed everyone.

you and your fellow agency memebers spent the day looking for dazai. you looked in all the spots you knew he could be, but he was nowhere to be found, and his phone going straight to voicemail when called.

if he didn't show up the next morning, everyone would presume him as dead. you couldn't sleep that night, your thoughts draining you with worry and sorrow.

the next morning, dazai was still gone. everyone was worried and discussing what to do, when you simply stormed out of the meeting room, running out of the building.

"i'll kill them all i swear i'll kill every last one of them" you muttered to yourself as you ran down the streets, looking out for anyone who was wearing black. your thoughts were now clouded with fear, worry and rage as you desperatley searched the streets for someone to give you information. no one seemed to reveal anything, no one spoke, not a single one of them. you had no choice but to hurt them and even kill a few in order to get something. one of them managed to croak out an adress as you repeatedly kicked them while holding a gun to their head. luckily, you hadn't encountered any ability users, only weak men who were too easy to disarm.

"what did you say?" you asked the man.

"o-our base" he replied, in between coughs.

within a minute, you were out of the alleyway, back on the street and heading to the given address. you swore to yourself that you would make sure anyone who hurt dazai would be dead.

lost in your thoughts, you weren't paying attention to where you were going when you bumped into someone. you looked up, only to see a familiar face.

"y/n?"

you began to cry. dazai was standing right infront of you, looking down at you in confusion.

"what the fuck is wrong with you" you said between sobs, throwing your arms around him.

"what??" he replied, hugging you back.

"everyone thought you were dead" you said as you cried into his shoulder.

"i was only gone for 2 days" he replied, rubbing your back gently to calm you down.

"where the fuck were you?" you asked after a few minutes of silence, pulling out of the hug.

"i got myself caught by the organization to find out information"

"why would you do that"

"because that was the only way" he replied, with no emotion in his voice.

"please don't ever do that to me again" you said as you looked down while you two began to walk back to the agency.

dazai knew how you felt about him, despite the fact that you haven't confessed. he felt the same way but he wasn't going to tell you that, he was going to wait for you to do it.

he stopped in his tracks suddeny and turned you around, pulling you into his arms, and hugging you tightly.

"never again" he said, as you gladly accepted the hug.

he wanted to make sure you knew that he cared about you. he wasn't very expressive of it, but he told himself he would do anything to protect you and the agency, no matter what it took.

you two then returned to the agency, where everyone began to yell at dazai but also praise him for the information he was able to get. they knew exactly how many of them there were, the abilities they had, and how to properly deal with them. thanks to him, the agency was once again able to save the city.

[asstronauts]

Alphabet Soup

rating: t word count: 1.7k pairing: jemily summary: perhaps love is in the little moments more than the grand gestures. 26 times (among many) that JJ and Emily fall a little bit more in love with each other in the everyday, smaller moments.

read on ao3, if you’d prefer

---

A - alphabet soup

JJ bought cans of alphabet soup for the boys when Michael first began to read, but Emily quickly found it much more entertaining to spell out words like "boob" or "ass" or "sex?" punctuated with a poorly modified capital P in place of a question mark. JJ had to shut it down when Michael asked what a "tit" was, and Emily panicked and mumbled something about birds.

B - bedtime

They would often unwind by reading before bedtime, and JJ found that Emily read through many foreign literature books. The nights she would fall asleep to Emily stroking her hair and reading aloud in words she didn't understand were the nights she felt most rested.

C - constellations

It was clear that Emily didn't actually know any constellations besides the Big Dipper and Orion. But when she laid on the grass with Henry and Michael, she made up stories in the stars about great heroes and the adventures they went on, and the boys fell in love with the night sky.

D - driving

JJ insisted on driving everywhere without the help of smartphone maps, which had gotten them lost on several occasions. Somehow it felt alright, when she had one hand on the wheel and one hand on Emily's leg, the windows were down, and her hair was streaming in the wind and reflecting the setting sun. Somehow it felt alright to be lost with her.

E - errands

For whatever reason, JJ made running any errand seem like immense fun. Buying groceries, getting gas, even sending a letter felt like an adventure when she was there. They'd only gotten kicked out of one grocery store — when JJ had knocked over an entire display stand of candy bars after running and jumping onto a shopping cart. They didn't regret anything.

F - forehead kiss

JJ wasn't that much shorter than Emily, but when the brunette pressed her lips to her girlfriend's forehead, JJ would feel the need to bury her face in Emily's neck to hide her blushing cheeks.

G - graveyard

On that day, JJ just needed space. So Emily took her to the flower shop the day before and drove her to the cemetery that morning and left her alone until she was ready. In the evening, they didn't speak, just laid with one another on the couch until JJ fell asleep in her arms.

H - horror movie

It was a cheap jump scare, but it made JJ scream out and grab Emily's arm, prompting the older woman to laugh at her. JJ responded with a playful slap, and Emily had to kiss her to reaffirm her love. They didn't finish the movie.

I - ice cream

On a day off, Emily took the boys to get ice cream, and when they came home raving about how Emily had managed to stack five ice cream scoops on top of a single cone, JJ knew she was with the right woman.

J - jaw

Emily's knees grew weak whenever JJ kissed up her jaw and whispered in her ear. Her girlfriend caught on and loved messing with her, working her up into a complete frenzy, then saying the most unsexy thing she could think of. Emily hated it, but she also couldn’t help but to collapse into a fit of giggles when JJ planted kisses all up the side of her face and whispered something like "corned beef" in a seductive voice.

K - kitchen

JJ would use every kitchen utensil as a musical instrument during any spare moment in cooking — while the food was cooking, while the water boiled, while the oven was preheating. She would sing into a wooden spoon and shove it into Emily's face to finish the lyric, and the two would dance in each others' arms all throughout the kitchen.

L - letters

When Emily spent her time in Paris and London, she and JJ wrote each other scores of letters the times they weren't together. They'd both filled up an entire box of papers and knickknacks until they were reunited. Even after, JJ would sometimes write a letter addressed to Emily, drop it into the mailbox and tell Emily to check the mail, for no reason except to make her smile.

M - mugs

JJ had an entire cupboard dedicated to mugs for her tea, which Emily could never understand because she only seemed to ever use two of them: one being a lumpy mug Henry had made in a pottery store and the other being a Valentine’s Day gift from Emily with lovely ceramic boobs protruding from the mug’s body.

N - notes

Emily bought a massive pack of post-its and began leaving notes for JJ around work, bringing a smile to her face every time she found a little colorful message. Some were encouraging — you can do it, you light up my world, you're amazing. Some were cheesy — i love you, je t’aime, when you see this blow me a kiss. And some were...questionable — JJ had to hide the extremely accurate (and well-annotated!) drawing of her naked body before Hotch saw.

O - omelette

Most of the time, Emily couldn't cook without the risk of burning the house down, but for some reason, she made the most scrumptious omelette. Despite not knowing how to cook scrambled or fried or boiled eggs, Emily's omelettes were always perfectly cooked, with an impeccable ratio of egg to filling. JJ tried everything she could to make them the same way, but the boys always preferred Emily's omelettes on Sunday mornings. JJ wondered if it was something she learned during her time in Paris.

P - plants

Before JJ, Emily had never been very good at taking care of plants. They seemed to die with little to no warning. But JJ had taught her well, making little plant calendars and teaching her signs to watch out for, and one morning, JJ caught her talking to one of the plants. As she listened more carefully, she heard that Emily was talking to each plant in a different language — according to the plant’s country of origin.

Q - quiet

The moments after the boys were put to bed were some of the only moments of quiet JJ and Emily got alone during the day. No matter how busy or tired they were, they always intentionally took a few moments to just quietly be with one another, curled up in the other's arms, lying in the other's lap, or simply sitting side by side.

R - rain

They'd gotten caught in the storm on the way back to the office from lunch. Despite JJ’s coat held up above them, the pair was getting drenched anyway, and they gave up and decided to make out in the rain instead. They swung their hands back and forth as they splashed over to the BAU, arriving soaked to the bone but elated, as Hotch shook his head at their sodden clothing and dopey grins.

S - Sergio

Emily had arrived home early and found JJ dancing in the hallway with Sergio to "Can't Stop the Feeling" blasting on the bluetooth speaker. She lifted her ban on Justin Timberlake that day, which had previously been in place when in a moment of weakness, JJ had declared she would choose him over Emily if given the chance. (She’d taken it back for Emily's sake, but deep down she couldn't really decide.)

T - thermostat

JJ liked the thermostat to be set at no lower than 77 degrees, while Emily loved the room as cold as possible. The first few months that they lived together was a horrible battle of constantly changing from one drastic temperature to the next, before JJ finally agreed to keeping the temperature low as long as Emily agreed to cuddle with her any time she got cold. Emily did not, however, realize that this compromise extended to the workplace, where JJ would sporadically ask for cuddles throughout the day, and Emily would have to comply.

U - ugly pajamas

Emily loved her ugly pajama sets. One of her favorites was a bright green Grinch onesie in a ridiculous Christmas sweater. JJ hated it until Emily showed it to the boys, and Michael howled with laughter and asked for one for himself. From that day forward, Emily bought her ugly pajamas in full family sets, including accompanying costumes for Sergio.

V - vanilla

Emily didn’t quite mind JJ’s early morning jogs because her favorite moments were when JJ came home after, took a shower, and climbed back into bed to give Emily a warm embrace, flooding her senses with the smell of vanilla shampoo. Emily would roll over to nuzzle her head in the crook of JJ’s neck and plant soft kisses there, breathing in her favorite scent.

W - wine

Emily drank red, JJ drank white. And Henry and Michael loved to join in, pretending to be adults by sipping grape juice from their colorful cups. Perhaps their family had unconventional tea parties, but at least they always had massive amounts of fun doing family activities tipsy. These were the nights when it was almost difficult to tell the difference between Michael and Emily’s coloring pages.

X - X-Files

JJ didn’t fully understand Emily’s deep obsession with The X-Files, but after Emily convinced her that she wasn’t only watching for Gillian Anderson, the younger woman began finding the long rambles and discussions of extraterrestrial life more endearing and interesting.

Y - yarn

JJ really wanted to get the hang of knitting and give something special to the boys, but Emily kept distracting her. Any chance she got, Emily would hold the yarn balls to her chest as fake boobs, use threads of yarn as mustaches, and drum the knitting needles against any surface. It wasn’t that JJ couldn't finish her projects out of annoyance — it was that JJ couldn’t help but laugh and find her girlfriend irresistible, forcing her to set aside her work and wrap herself up instead in the brunette’s embrace.

Z - zoo

It was Emily's explosive childlike joy when she had seen the dolphins. She claimed it was for the boys’ sakes, but JJ had noticed the pure excitement in her eyes when they saw the sign and felt the way Emily had tugged on her wrist to rush to the stadium and grab seats right in the splash zone. And in the screams of laughter and the moment when both Henry and Michael clutched at Emily when the water washed over them, JJ knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman.