#I don't even think I should put this into words
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
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something I use a lot lately is the search engine >words words words site:tumblr.com Which helps a lot; I can often find the post that way. I find it works better if I don't put quotation marks around anything Sometimes you'll have an url for a comment that looks like >https://username.tumblr.com/post/245678348/this-is-great And you can't interact with it casually. If you change it so it's >https://www.tumblr.com/username/245678348/this-is-great That often works.
You can explore a blog swiftly with: >https://username.tumblr.com/archive and these other options are probably (also) intuitive: >https://username.tumblr.com/day/YYYY/MM/DD <-modify >https://username.tumblr.com/random and I haven't played with them or this yet, but adding /chrono to the end of an url should order results chronologically
Finally, I used this just last night >https://username.tumblr.com/search/%24FIRST TAG%2C%20%23DIFFERENT TAG to cross-index tags. (like finding only posts tagged both #croissants AND #sandwiches or, in my case, finding a comic with two different blorbos of mine in the same work) Thanks to made-nondescript and cheezbot for some of the notes I got these from.
(I think tumblr used to default to username.tumblr.com and new accounts default to www.tumblr.com/username and that's fine but there may be some elitism/oldschoolpride in the former way even if it's a bit harder to work with/parse for those of us who just got here a few years ago)
how to find literally any post on a blog in seconds (on desktop)
there are so many posts about ~tumblr is so broken, you can’t find any post on your own blog, it’s impossible, bluhrblub~
I am here to tell you otherwise! it is in fact INCREDIBLY easy to find a post on a blog if you’re on desktop/browser and you know what you’re doing:
url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant. every single post, every single time. in chronological order starting with the most recent post. note: it will not find #croissants or that time you made the typo #croidnssants. for a tag with multiple words, it’s just /tagged/my-croissant and it will show you everything with the exact phrase #my croissant
url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant/chrono will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the exact phrase #croissant, but it will show them in reverse order with the oldest first
url.tumblr.com/search/croissant isn’t as perfect at finding everything, but it’s generally loads better than the search on mobile. it will find a good array of posts that have the word croissant in them somewhere. could be in the body of the post (op captioned it “look at my croissant”) or in the tags (#man I want a croissant). it won’t necessarily find EVERYTHING like /tagged/ does, but I find it’s still more reliable than search on mobile. you can sometimes even find posts by a specific user by searching their url. also, unlike whatever random assortment tumblr mobile pulls up, it will still show them in a more logically chronological order
url.tumblr.com/day/2020/11/05 will show you every post on the blog from november 5th, 2020, in case you’re taking a break from croissants to look for destiel election memes
url.tumblr.com/archive/ is search paradise. easily go to a particular month and see all posts as thumbnails! search by post type! search by tags but as thumbnails now
url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio will show you every audio post on your blog (you can also filter by other post types). sometimes a little imperfect if you’re looking for a video when the op embedded the video in a text post instead of posting as a video post, etc
url.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/croissant will show you EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant, but it will show you them in the archive thumbnail view divided by months. very useful if you’re looking for a specific picture of a croissant that was reblogged 6 months ago and want to be able to scan for it quickly
url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio/tagged/croissant will show you every audio post tagged with the specific phrase #croissant (you can also filter by photo or text instead, because I don’t know why you have audio posts tagged croissant)
the tag system on desktop tumblr is GENUINELY amazing for searching within a specific blog!
caveat: this assumes a person HAS a desktop theme (or “custom theme”) enabled. a “custom theme” is url.tumblr.com, as opposed to tumblr.com/url. I’ve heard you have to opt-into the former now, when it used to be the default, so not everyone HAS a custom theme where you can use all those neat url tricks.
if the person doesn’t have a “custom theme” enabled, you’re beholden to the search bar. still, I’ve found the search bar on tumblr.com/url is WAY more reliable than search on mobile. for starters, it tends to bring posts up in a sensible order, instead of dredging up random posts from 2013 before anything else
if you’re on mobile, I’m sorry. godspeed and good luck finding anything. (my one tip is that if you’re able to click ON a tag rather than go through the search bar, you’ll have better luck. if your mutual has recently reblogged a post tagged #croissant, you can click #croissant and it’ll bring up everything tagged #croissant just like /tagged/croissant. but if there’s no readily available tag to click on, you have to rely on the mobile search bar and its weird bizarre whims)
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IM FEELING ANGSTY TODAY so what about 141 who is in love with reader but they are in love with someone else <3
ANON! STRAIGHT TO JAIL!
But in all seriousness, I love some yummy angst. Make me suffer. Make the characters suffer. Let's all suffer a little bit. Hope you shed a tear or two (or don't).
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Presented in four double drabbles.
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, alcohol, stalking, flirting, yearning, angst, suggestive themes, brief mention of intimate relations, divorce, co-parenting, nurse!reader
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
John Price
The door opens, and your smiling face greets him. You look a bit tired, but even so, you're beautiful. John wants to snapshot this moment. To savor it.
“You’re early,” you breathe.
John shrugs. “That all right?”
He did it on purpose. The new boyfriend shouldn’t be home yet, which means John can have some time with you.
“Is that Dad?”
The familiar voice of his daughter and small feet slapping against a wood floor reaches him. She appears, arms outstretched eagerly.
“Hey there, dove,” chuckles John, lifting his daughter into his arms. “Ready to spend the weekend with me?”
She squeals with delight, her small arms wrapping around his neck. John glances at you, urging memory to resurface and seize you both.
But it is not to be.
The boyfriend appears. The man that came after the divorce.
John doesn’t blame you for moving on. His job drained the marriage into nothing.
But he still wants you.
“John,” nods the man in greeting.
“Is her bag ready?” asks John, addressing you and not acknowledging the boyfriend.
“Yes,” you reply, handing it to him.
John wants to say, “I love you.”
But he doesn’t.
“I’ll bring her back Sunday evening.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Vape smoke lingers in the air.
Kyle reclines on the sofa, his head on a pillow, scrolling his socials in the dim dark. The television is on, the volume turned low to create background noise. On the table next to him is a bottle of tequila, half-empty and warm. He takes a swig, savoring the burn.
Kyle’s gaze is glued to the phone screen, fingers tapping until he finds your page.
He shouldn’t do this. It’ll only upset him—making him yearn for something he doesn’t have and might never know. It’s a foolish endeavor. Heartbreak just for fucking kicks.
He gazes at your smiling face, of how perfect you are to him. It’s not fucking fair—even if he respects your choice.
You should be his. The two of you should be together.
But there is someone else. A man that Kyle despises but only because you’re not his. The bloke is a good man. He’ll take care of you. Treat you right. Be there when you need him and not away on another mission without any idea of when or if he’s coming back.
Kyle’s chest aches.
"Fuck," he sighs, locking his phone.
He reaches for the tequila.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“How bad is it, doc? Think I’ll live?”
Soap puts every ounce of devious flirtation he can in his tone. He’s putting it on thick.
He gives you his best smile, and he gets the exact reaction he wants.
Your head bows in embarrassment, a soft smile spreading on your face. Your touch is gentle, taking great care to wrap the wound on his bicep.
You’re flustered. It’s bloody adorable.
“You’ll live, sergeant,” you reply, voice a little husky.
It’s such a small thing, but Soap clings to it. To him, this is a sliver of hope. A possibility even though reality says otherwise.
Soap leans in a bit, pushing into your space which almost seems to worsen your flustered demeanor. “I took a hard hit.”
“You did,” you agree. “It’s good they brought you in.”
You have no idea Soap asked Simon to hit him harder during training just so he’d end up here.
But it’s not to be.
The man that has your heart arrives, strolling into the communal exam room without even glancing at Soap.
“You’re ready to go, sergeant,” you reply brightly, demeanor changing now that your boyfriend is here.
Soap’s stomach twists into a knot.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon sits in the dark in his home office. A slight twinge of shame paints his mood, like it always does when he watches the monitors.
He tells himself he does this to protect you. That he’s looking after you even if you’re not aware of his actions. This is just a precaution until you finally realize that you should be his.
Simon removes a cigarette from his jacket pocket. When it ignites, and that luscious burn hits his lungs, a calmness settles over him.
His actions are valid. This behavior is fine.
Simon settles back in his chair, gaze roaming over the different camera views. There are fifteen of them in total. Each one is in your home in various rooms. Infiltration and surveillance are something he’s fucking good at. And he’s done it here with excellent precision.
It’s some of his best work.
In your bedroom, you’re currently on your back, and completely naked. The wanker you call a “boyfriend” is thrusting like a bloody fucking idiot. It’s clear to Simon that this man only cares about himself.
Simon could make you come. He’d give you plenty of orgasms.
But you’re not his.
You belong to someone else.
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hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space
Thank you for requesting angel!
cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him.
Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking.
“Sirius?”
He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly.
You take a step towards him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.”
“You’re home early,” you note.
Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted.
“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now.
When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.”
Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.”
You feel your eyebrows go up.
“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?”
You nod mutely.
“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.”
“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.”
Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny.
“Baby.”
He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.”
Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him.
Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you.
You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath.
“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.”
“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly.
You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize.
“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.
Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.”
“No, that’s me.”
One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.”
Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.”
You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him.
You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?”
Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.”
You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one.
“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?”
“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.”
“And you weren’t going to say anything?”
“What’d be the point?”
A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?”
You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.”
“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.”
“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.”
“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black angst#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black drabble#sirius black oneshot#sirius black blurb#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader#tw past abuse
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[19:51] - choi seungcheol
a/n: as you can tell by now, im down so bad for this man...the amount of fics I've written for him....sickening
check out my masterlist!
"if you don't love me anymore, you can just tell me."
the words tumble out of seungcheol's mouth as if they’ve been sitting on his tongue for hours, maybe even days. his voice is quiet but firm, and it catches you completely off guard. the two of you are sitting together on the couch, the usual comfortable silence between you both now feeling...strained.
you turn to look at him, your eyes widening at the unexpected confession. "what?" you ask, the confusion evident in your voice. you’ve been in a relationship with him for so long that you never expected him to say something like that.
he doesn’t meet your gaze right away. instead, he stares ahead, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you can tell he’s trying to look calm, but there’s a tension in his shoulders and a flicker of doubt in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. it makes your heart twist, and you instinctively reach out to touch his arm.
"cheol..what are you talking about?" you ask softly, your fingers brushing his skin. "why would you even say that?"
he finally turns to face you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen. there’s a sadness there, like he’s been carrying something heavy for a while, unsure of whether he should put it down.
"i just... i don’t know," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "i feel like things have been... different between us lately. like maybe you’re not as into me anymore. and it’s been bothering me, but i didn’t know how to bring it up."
your heart drops at his words, and you immediately pull him closer, your hand on his cheek. "cheol-ah, that’s not true," you say urgently. "i’ve been distracted, busy with work, with life. but i still love you. nothing’s changed."
he sighs, his eyes softening as he leans into your touch. "i don’t know," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. "it just feels like we’ve been drifting apart. and i’m scared. scared that you don’t love me the way you used to."
you shake your head, a lump forming in your throat. how could he think that? how could he even question your feelings after all this time?
"choi seungcheol," you say, your voice firm now, trying to reassure him. "i’m not going anywhere. i love you more than anything. but i don’t always show it in the ways you expect, and maybe that’s where the disconnect is. but i love you. i always have & i always will."
he looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and hesitance. "you still love me?" he asks, as though he needs to hear it again.
"yes," you reply, your heart full of emotion. "i still love you. i always will."
for a moment, he just stares at you, his face slowly breaking into a smile. it’s a small, relieved smile, but it’s the most genuine one you’ve seen from him in days.
"okay," he says, his voice quiet but full of warmth. "i just needed to hear that."
you smile back at him, feeling the weight lift off your chest. "i’m sorry i made you worry," you whisper, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "but i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere."
seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "i don’t know what i’d do without you."
you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "well, don't even think about that then, it won't ever happen."
seungcheol pulls you into a hug, holding you tight against him. "i love you," he whispers, his voice full of sincerity.
"i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling in your chest.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol seventeen#seventeen choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines#choi seungcheol fanfic#choi seungcheol angst#seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol angst#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups angst#scoups seventeen#seventeen scoups
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As someone who works in mental health: Self-care (a word I think people sometimes misunderstand to mean "treating yourself", and while it can occasionally encompass a little treat, it is often more like maintenance, things like: having fun, relaxing, and even chores like dishes or brushing your teeth daily) is literally the only way you can continue to do emotional labor for people. You cannot pour from an empty glass, and it's true that you have to put on your oxygen mask before helping others. If someone is making you feel guilty for taking care of yourself they are not your friend and are in fact miserable people, or straight up lying to you (practicing their self-care in secret). Take breaks, don't involve yourself in every fucking tragedy that's happening in the world, or even involve yourself in none of them if your own life is imploding. The nightmares will still be there when you are ready to tackle them, if you ever get to that point. You are allowed to take care of you. Being self-centered is not always a bad thing. Always putting others first will inevitably make you a bitter person who's unwilling to help anyone with anything. Put yourself first when you need to, and understand that so many Not Good things are happening in the world at the same time it is genuinely unreasonable to think you need to speak on all of them.
And the argument of "you get to shut it out/turn it off and these people don't" is awful, by the way. Just because there is misery in the world does not mean you have to be miserable. Everyone has shit going on that feels like it could be world ending, and while obviously you should be empathetic in understanding that someone might be going through something more disastrous/dangerous than you, but that does not mean you aren't allowed to give yourself peace and happiness. Ultimately, that is what everyone is trying to do right now, even if it's just for an hour.
"how can you be blogging about fun stuff while this horrible thing is going on?"
there's always horrible things going on somewhere. if you refuse to calm down until it all stops, all you'll do is give yourself a stroke
#like it is genuinely okay to say “i have empathy for the people going through this but i genuinely have to figure my shit out rn”#if one person in the wood is miserable does that mean nobody gets to be happy?#i guarantee everyone you meet has something that's making their life bery difficult and is upsetting them#they arent turning anything off#they're just tuning in to something that directly affevts them because sometimes you have to do that
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CHOSO'S GAMER GF PT.2
idk what warnings to put... also feel free to leave some suggestions :) sorry for any typos!
“It’s cold,” you murmur, goosebumps prickling your skin as you shiver in your gaming chair.
Without a word, Choso stands up and grabs a blanket. Returning, he lifts you effortlessly, settling into the chair himself. You hardly miss a beat, now nestled comfortably in his lap, his warmth enveloping you as you remain completely locked in on the game.
Choso wraps the blanket around both of you, his arms encircling your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel his steady breaths against your neck, a comforting warmth that contrasts with the chill in the room.
Focused on the game, you barely notice the way his hold tightens around you-until a sudden jumpscare makes you jolt in your seat. You shift abruptly in his lap, causing Choso to tense up, a low grunt escaping him as he goes still.
"Careful there," he murmurs, his voice a little strained. You can feel the way his fingers dig into your sides for a moment, as if grounding himself.
"Sorry," you mutter, trying to refocus on the screen. But now, there's a new kind of tension in the air. His hands are still on you, but this time, there's a lingering touch, his thumbs brushing slowly over your hips.
"You're really into this game, huh?" Choso's voice is huskier now, closer to your ear. You can feel the way his breaths quicken slightly, his grip on you tightening just a bit more.
"Yeah," you reply, though your voice wavers slightly. It's getting harder to concentrate with the way he's touching you. His hands drift lower, teasingly slow, and you swallow hard, the game momentarily forgotten.
Choso chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back. "Yeah? Maybe I should distract you, see how well you really play," he murmurs, his lips brushing just below your ear.
A shiver runs down your spine, but this time, it's not because of the cold. "Choso! They can hear u," you quickly cover the mic and mute, trying to keep your voice steady as you finish off another enemy. “you're supposed to be helping me” you pout
"Who says I'm not?" His hands start to move, resting on your thighs, fingers tracing idle patterns. You bite your lip, refusing to lose focus, even as his touch grows more insistent.
"Choso..." you warn, feeling the pressure of his grip tighten slightly.
He hums innocently against your skin."What? I'm just keeping you warm."
Without warning, Choso shifts beneath you, lifting you just enough to slip his pants down. You're too absorbed in the game to notice, your focus entirely on the screen. But the moment you settle back down, your eyes widen as you make contact with something hard beneath you.
"Choso!" you hiss, your voice a hushed whisper as you struggle to keep your reaction hidden from your friends on the other end.
His low, satisfied chuckle sends a shiver through you. "What? I thought you wanted to be kept warm" he teases, his hands gripping your hips to keep you pressed firmly against him.
You fumble to switch your mic off, your heart racing as Choso starts to guide your hips against his aching hardness.
"C'mon, don't be shy, baby. Turn that mic back on," he purrs into your ear, voice dripping with dark amusement.
You glare at him, heat flooding your cheeks at the thought of your friends possibly hearing everything. But the flush on your face only deepens when he thrusts his hips up, a silent yet insistent encouragement, making you stifle a whimper.
"You wouldn't," you whisper, trying to sound confident. But Choso's grin only widens, his fingers tightening on your waist. "Oh, I think you will," he replies, voice low and daring, as if daring you to defy him.
Your breath catches in your throat as Choso rocks his hips again, the friction sending sparks up your spine. The game you were so focused on moments ago is now a forgotten blur, your fingers slack on the controller as his hands guide your hips in slow, torturous circles.
"Y/N? You there?" your friend's voice crackles through your headset, jarring you back to reality.
You glance at the blinking icon, indicating your muted mic, your mind racing.
Choso watches you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, clearly reveling in your dilemma. Leaning closer, his breath fans over your ear. "If you don't unmute, I'll make sure they hear you anyway," he whispers, his tone dangerously smooth.
Your heart pounds as you weigh your options, cheeks burning with both arousal and embarrassment. Before you can decide, Choso's hands tighten their grip, pulling you down harder against him, a low groan escaping his lips.
"Last chance, baby," he taunts, bucking his hips up in a way that makes it nearly impossible to stay quiet. Your finger hovers over the mic button, torn between giving in to him and risking everything.
With a shaky breath, you unmute, trying desperately to keep your voice steady.
"Yeah, sorry-I'm still here," you say, hoping your friends can't hear the breathlessness in your voice.
But Choso doesn't stop. Instead, he only thrusts harder into you, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Good girl... now let's see how well you can keep up."
You bite down hard on your lip, swallowing a moan as Choso mercilessly bullies your G-spot . His hips slam into you with fevered intensity, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each wet impact sending waves of heat straight to your core.
His hands slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to arch into him. Glancing toward the small mirror on your desk, Choso's eyes darken at the sight of the bulge appearing and disappearing in your lower belly with each deep thrust.
A wicked grin tugs at his lips, and he slows his pace, savoring the way your walls flutter around him. Without warning, he presses his palm against the bulge, applying pressure. The sensation has your head falling back onto his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry as the added stimulation pushes you to the brink.
"Look at that," he whispers against your ear, voice thick with smug satisfaction.
"You feel that, baby? I'm so deep I can see it." He presses down harder, eliciting a broken gasp from you, your legs trembling as you struggle to keep it together.
"Go on," he coaxes, his thrusts slow but impossibly deep. "Let's see if you can stay quiet for me."
Chosos nails dig deep on your sides, surely leaving marks. You dont want your friends to hear you, but god was Choso fucking you into oblivion. You could hardly keep you with your teammates, alarming them with your slack.
Choso forces two fingers inside your mouth, coating them with just enough saliva. His cold hand snakes up inside your shirt, his fingers coating your hardened nipple with your saliva, giving you a hard pinch, making you squeal.
“Are you okay?” your friend’s voice crackles through the headset. Choso shoots you a threatening glare, daring you to respond. But you can’t—it’s too much. All you can do is tremble against him, your voice caught in your throat as he slams you down his cock, repeatedly.
“Cho…” you barely managed to whisper before his hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you. Without missing a beat, he grabbed your headset, seamlessly stepping in to talk to your teammates, who didn’t question why he was suddenly playing in your place.
Choso reveled in the sound of your broken cries, wanting them to be his alone. He pushed the mic away from his lips, leaning in to murmur against your ear, “you wanna cum baby?”
You nod frantically, desperation lacing your voice. “Please… please… pleaseee!” you cry out, your words trembling as you bounce on his cock relentlessly.
Choso can feel you're just about to cum, so he grabs a hold of your hips, and fucks his cock deep into your cleching walls. You let out a broken cry, your cum mixing with his own coating his cock, but choso doesnt stop.
No. He wont let one drop go to waste. He brings his cum-covered fingers to your lips, and you instinctively part them, allowing him access. You run your tongue over his fingers, cleaning them, only to choke when they brush the back of your throat.
"You did so good, baby," he murmurs softly against your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder as your body shudders, still coming down from the high.
#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso smut#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso kamo#choso scenario#jjk modern au#geto suguru#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen#smut#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#kenjaku
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potion of persuasion// J.P x Reader
a/n: should i do a love potion series ???
request: Hellooo I'm usually too shy to request anything but after seeing your post and reading some of your fics I just thought; 'eeeeh why not' so here I am! (might be a lil' crackfic-y hope thats okay :3)
I'd like to request a james potter x reader fic where remus and sirius have gotten tired seeing the two awkwardly tip toe around each other so they planned to put a sort of love/confidence boost (?) potion into his drink so he'd finally be done with it! But uh oh, pads accidently bought one with really strong effects that have our prongsie standing up on tables in his socks and underwear as he professes his love to the reader. Chaos ensues basically..
hope this wasn't too long, also don't forget to take breaks and drink lots of water! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)
word count: 5.2k
The Gryffindor Common Room was alive with its usual evening chatter, the glow from the fireplace casting a warm, golden light over the red-and-gold tapestries. The laughter of your friends filled the cozy space as you sat cross-legged on one of the worn-out couches, listening to Marlene's latest exaggerated tale about a Quidditch practice gone wrong.
Across the room, James Potter sat hunched in a velvet armchair, his eyes darting from the book in his lap to you every few seconds. He had chosen a random Transfiguration text as a flimsy excuse to be near you, but it was clear he hadn’t read a single word. Every time your laughter rang out, he stiffened, pretending to adjust his glasses while sneaking another glance in your direction.
You could feel his gaze like a warm breeze tickling the back of your neck. It sent a flutter through your stomach every time you dared to look back at him—only to find him hastily redirecting his eyes to his book, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. The air between you both was charged, electric with unsaid words and shy, stolen glances.
Meanwhile, at a table nearby, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were deep in conversation, but their attention kept drifting toward you and James. Sirius leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin playing on his lips, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his best friend struggle.
Sirius tilted his head toward James, letting out a low, amused chuckle.
"Prongs is never going to get his act together, is he?" he drawled, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table.
Remus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His book lay open, but like James, he hadn't absorbed a single word.
"Honestly, I've been watching this dance for weeks," Remus replied, voice low enough to avoid being overheard. "They’re driving me mad. He’s hopeless."
Sirius let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head in mock despair.
"You’d think the great James Potter, star Seeker and Head Boy, would have the courage to ask her out by now," Sirius mused, eyes glinting with mischief.
James chose that moment to sneak another glance at you, only to lock eyes with you unexpectedly. Your breath hitched, and you quickly turned back to your friends, pretending to listen to Dorcas Meadowes' story. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, and you prayed no one noticed the heat creeping up your neck.
Sirius barked out a laugh as he caught James turning back to his book, looking like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.
"Pathetic," Sirius muttered under his breath. He glanced at Remus, eyebrows raised. "We may need to intervene, Moony. At this rate, they'll be married with three kids before he works up the nerve to say a word."
Remus chuckled softly but nodded in agreement, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"As much as I’d enjoy watching him suffer," Remus said with a teasing grin, "this is getting painful. For all our sakes, we might have to give them a nudge."
Sirius's grin widened as an idea began to form. He leaned in closer, voice lowered conspiratorially.
"Alright, Moony. But if we’re going to play matchmaker, we better do it in style."
The two of them exchanged a look that could only mean trouble—the kind of look that usually preceded a night of pranks and mayhem. Remus shook his head with a fond smile, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he was fully on board.
Unaware of the scheming happening just a few feet away, you peeked at James again, catching him glancing at you for what felt like the hundredth time. This time, he didn’t look away, his hazel eyes softening with something unspoken. The moment hung suspended in the air like a delicate charm—fragile, fleeting, and full of possibility.
But just as you opened your mouth to say something, Sirius’s voice rang out across the common room.
"Oi, Prongs!" he called with a wicked grin. "You do realize books aren’t edible, right? You’ve been staring at that one like it’s a steak dinner."
James’s head snapped up, his face turning beet red. Your friends turned to look, giggling, and you hid your smile behind your hand, eyes twinkling with amusement.
James shot Sirius a glare, but there was a hint of a grateful smile lurking at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the push he needed.
The Gryffindor Common Room gradually quieted down as the evening wore on, with students either heading to bed or settling into more relaxed conversations. The fire crackled gently, casting dancing shadows on the walls. James had finally managed to bury his nose back in his book, though his eyes kept flickering up to you every few moments. You had shifted to a quieter spot by the window, pretending to read a novel but stealing glances at James just as often.
Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus had retreated to a secluded corner of the common room, where the firelight flickered just dimly enough to keep them hidden from prying eyes. Sirius was rummaging through his school bag, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he pulled out a small vial filled with shimmering, pinkish liquid.
"Padfoot, what’s that?" Remus asked, arching a suspicious eyebrow.
Sirius held the vial up triumphantly, the liquid inside catching the light and swirling like liquid starlight.
"My dear Moony, this," he declared in a hushed tone, "is the solution to our lovesick friend’s dilemma."
Remus’s eyes narrowed.
"Please tell me you haven’t gone and brewed some ridiculous potion."
Sirius shook his head, looking positively offended.
"I didn't brew it—picked it up from Zonko’s," he corrected with a smug grin. "It’s called the ‘Love and Confidence Elixir.’ Just a tiny sip, and our dear Prongs will have all the courage he needs to finally confess his undying love."
Remus’s expression was skeptical, as always.
"Love and confidence, you say?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Sirius, you can’t just spike James’s drink. What if it’s not as harmless as you think?"
But Sirius was undeterred, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Oh, come on, Moony. It’s just a bit of fun. The bloke’s been mooning over her for months, and all it’ll do is give him a little... push." He gave Remus a cheeky grin, wiggling his eyebrows. "No harm done. Besides, you saw him tonight—he’s hopeless."
Remus hesitated, glancing over at James, who was currently pretending to listen to something Peter was saying but was clearly distracted by the sight of you by the window. Remus sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine," he relented, albeit reluctantly. "But if this backfires, Padfoot, it’s on your head. And you’ll be the one explaining it to McGonagall."
Sirius beamed triumphantly, already pulling a flask of Butterbeer from his bag.
"Relax, Moony. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a confidence boost, nothing more."
However, what Sirius didn’t realize—and Remus didn’t catch either—was that the vial he’d grabbed wasn’t a simple “Love and Confidence Elixir” but something far stronger. In his rush to purchase the potion, Sirius had accidentally picked up a mislabeled “Passion Potion”, notorious for making the drinker act on their deepest feelings with absolutely no inhibitions.
The common room was quieter now, most students having either gone to bed or become absorbed in their own conversations. It was the perfect opportunity. With a sly glance at Remus, Sirius uncorked the vial and quickly poured a generous splash into James’s Butterbeer, the pink potion swirling and dissolving seamlessly into the amber liquid.
"Keep watch, Moony," Sirius whispered. Remus, despite his reservations, did as instructed, glancing around to ensure no one was paying attention to them.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Sirius slid the Butterbeer back into place just as James turned back to their table.
"There you are, Prongs," Sirius said with a disarming smile. "You look parched, mate. Have a drink."
James, unaware of the potion-infused Butterbeer, shot Sirius a grateful smile before taking a long gulp.
"Thanks, Padfoot," he mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, holding their breaths as they waited for the potion to take effect. At first, nothing seemed to happen. James continued chatting with Peter, appearing no different than before. Sirius was starting to wonder if the potion had even worked when, all of a sudden, James’s gaze snapped back to you across the room.
The change was almost instantaneous—his hazel eyes darkened, his usual hesitant demeanor melting away, replaced with an intensity neither Remus nor Sirius had ever seen before.
"Uh oh," Remus muttered under his breath, his stomach twisting with unease as James got up from his seat, his book abandoned. Sirius, however, was too busy stifling a triumphant laugh to notice Remus’s worried expression.
"Looks like it’s working perfectly," Sirius whispered, elbowing Remus. But as James began making a beeline toward you, his confident strides more determined than usual, Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously off.
The Gryffindor Common Room continued to hum softly with conversations and the occasional crackle from the fireplace, but for Sirius and Remus, everything was suspended in a tense bubble as they watched James from their corner.
Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms and frowning.
"Honestly, Moony, I think we got swindled," he muttered under his breath. "Should’ve known Zonko’s was selling rubbish. I told you it was a waste of time."
Remus, however, wasn’t so sure. He was keeping a careful eye on James, who had just downed the last of his potion-laced Butterbeer. For a moment, James seemed completely normal—leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Peter said. But then, Remus noticed it: a sudden, almost imperceptible change. James’s eyes snapped up, locking onto you from across the room with an intensity that was almost unnerving.
"Uh, Padfoot..." Remus began, nudging Sirius and nodding toward their friend.
James’s usual shy, hesitant demeanor was gone in an instant. His hazel eyes widened, as if he’d just had the most brilliant revelation of his life. The corners of his lips twitched upward into a wild grin, and before anyone could make sense of it, he stood up abruptly, sending his chair clattering to the floor behind him.
Sirius’s eyes went wide with surprise.
"Merlin’s beard, it’s working!" he whispered, half in awe, half in panic.
But this was no subtle boost of confidence. James was on a mission—one driven by the potion that now coursed through his veins, amplifying his emotions to the point of reckless abandon. He began making his way toward you with a determined stride, bumping into a few scattered chairs and narrowly avoiding colliding with a group of younger students playing Exploding Snap.
Sirius and Remus exchanged a panicked look. This was definitely not the effect they were expecting.
"Prongs, wait—", Remus started to call out, but it was too late. James was already halfway across the room, moving with a speed that had you blinking in confusion.
You’d been absorbed in a conversation with Lily and Marlene, trying to distract yourself from the warmth that had spread through your cheeks after exchanging glances with James earlier. But the moment you heard the loud clatter, you looked up to see him striding straight toward you—eyes wide, grinning like a madman, and moving with a kind of confidence that was utterly foreign to the James Potter you knew.
"James?" you asked, your brow furrowing. Something about his expression seemed... off. You tried to read the intent behind his wild gaze, but before you could even register what was happening, he was standing directly in front of you, almost uncomfortably close.
The entire common room seemed to fall into a stunned silence, all eyes now glued to the two of you.
"There you are!" James practically shouted, his grin impossibly wide. His voice carried an uncharacteristic enthusiasm that had your friends exchanging confused looks behind you.
"I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night!"
You blinked, caught completely off guard. This was not the shy, stammering James you were used to. Your heart pounded in your chest, partly from the sheer bewilderment of it all and partly from the intensity of his gaze.
"Oh, uh, really?" you managed, your voice wavering. "What did you want to talk about?"
But instead of answering, James leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"I’ve been thinking..." he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re absolutely brilliant, you know that? And I... well, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer."
The sudden proximity and the fervor in his words left you momentarily speechless. James Potter, the boy who usually turned red at the mere thought of a compliment, was now standing inches away, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.
Behind him, Remus was frantically mouthing something to Sirius, who was trying (and failing) to suppress his laughter.
"Okay, maybe I gave him a bit too much," Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t quite wipe the grin off his face.
"Sirius, this isn’t funny," Remus hissed, watching as James practically vibrated with the need to say more. "We have to do something before he embarrasses himself... or worse."
But before they could intervene, James, still under the potion’s influence, reached out to gently cup your cheek, his eyes softening as they locked with yours.
"I’ve liked you for ages," he confessed, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he couldn’t stop them even if he tried. "You’re brilliant, and beautiful, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why I haven’t told you sooner."
Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Part of you wanted to laugh, thinking this had to be some elaborate prank. But the look in his eyes was so earnest, so raw, that it made your breath catch.
Suddenly, the room erupted in gasps and stifled giggles as Sirius and Remus finally sprang into action, darting forward to grab James by the shoulders and pull him back before he could blurt out anything else.
"Alright, Prongs, I think that’s enough honesty for one night," Sirius said, half-laughing as he tried to steer James away.
But James, still grinning like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup, waved them off with an exaggerated flourish.
"No, no, I’m not done! I need to tell her—"
"Yes, you are," Remus insisted, giving Sirius a panicked look. "Come on, mate, let’s get you some fresh air."
As the two of them practically dragged a protesting James out of the common room, you were left standing there, cheeks flushed, heart racing, and mind whirling with what had just transpired. Around you, your friends erupted into laughter and teasing whispers, but all you could do was stare after James’s retreating form, wondering what on earth had just happened—and if, maybe, there was a hint of truth behind his unexpected confession.
The chaos that ensued after James’s sudden declaration hadn’t even begun to settle when he suddenly broke free from Sirius and Remus’s grasp, stumbling back toward the center of the Gryffindor Common Room. A wild grin still plastered on his face, he leapt onto one of the tables, nearly knocking over a stack of textbooks.
"Prongs, no—!" Sirius hissed, his voice urgent as he scrambled after him. But it was too late.
James threw his arms wide, eyes glinting with mischief, the potion clearly pushing him to act on every impulse without a shred of hesitation. He stood there like a performer taking center stage, chest heaving as if preparing for the grandest of confessions.
"Alright, fine, you lot want a show?!" he shouted to the room, which had now gone completely silent except for a few barely stifled giggles. His eyes found you once more, his gaze so intense it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.
Remus, who had momentarily been caught in the whirlwind of it all, finally snapped into action.
"Sirius, do something!" he urged, voice tight with panic as he flipped open the Potions textbook he’d snatched from the nearby table. His fingers flew over the pages, trying to find something—anything—that would reverse whatever chaos Sirius had unleashed.
But Sirius was having his own struggles.
"Alright, Prongs, let’s just... quiet you down a bit, yeah?" he muttered to himself, wand already in hand. He aimed it at James, intent on casting a silencing spell.
Unfortunately, the spell backfired spectacularly. Instead of quieting James, it seemed to amplify his voice, and before anyone could stop him, he launched into a passionate serenade:
"Oh, the way you smile, it lights up the night,
Brighter than a thousand stars so bright—"
James’s voice echoed through the common room, shockingly clear and shockingly loud. He had one hand over his heart and the other dramatically extended toward you, as if you were the only one in the room.
You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and—admittedly—a bit of flattery. The whole room was roaring with laughter now, students doubled over, tears streaming down their faces. Even Lily Evans, who had been quietly reading by the fire, was shaking with laughter.
"Merlin’s beard, this is a disaster!" Remus muttered, frantically flipping through the Potions textbook. "Why did you have to give him the whole bloody vial, Sirius?"
"I didn’t know it would turn him into a bloody Shakespeare!" Sirius retorted, wincing as James hit an impressively high note. "This is Zonko’s fault, not mine!"
Meanwhile, James, entirely lost in the throes of the potion, began to loosen his tie with one hand while continuing his off-key serenade.
"For you, my love, I’d dance through fire!
Your beauty, your wit—I’ll never tire!"
"Oh no, no, no, no," Sirius groaned as James began unbuttoning his shirt. "Prongs, stop it! You’re going to scar these poor children for life!" He leapt forward, grabbing James by the waistband and trying to wrestle him back down to earth.
But James was surprisingly strong under the influence of the potion. He twisted out of Sirius’s grasp, managing to lose a couple more buttons in the process, revealing the faint outline of his Quidditch-toned abs. A few younger Gryffindors shrieked in shock, while others cheered him on, treating this like the best entertainment they’d had all term.
Remus’s frustration grew more palpable by the second as he scanned the Potions book, muttering curses under his breath. His eyes finally landed on a section that seemed promising.
"Aha! The antidote—it’s a mix of powdered moonstone and syrup of hellebore," he said, turning to Sirius with a desperate look. "But we need to get him to calm down first, or it won’t work."
"Calm him down?!" Sirius shouted, dodging James’s flailing arm as he tried to pull the boy’s shirt back over his shoulders. "We can’t even get him off the bloody table!"
James, now with half his shirt hanging off one shoulder, raised his arms for a grand finale.
"Oh, my darling, my heart is yours!
Now and forever, through any wars!"
You were torn between wanting to laugh and wishing you could simply vanish into thin air. But despite the mortification of being the target of James’s wild serenade, a tiny, fluttering part of you couldn’t help but feel... touched? The way he was looking at you, even if it was because of a potion, held a sincerity that made your heart stutter.
"That’s it," Remus said through gritted teeth, closing the book with a snap. "We’re doing this the hard way." He pulled out his wand, ready to attempt a counter-spell to at least calm James down enough to administer the antidote.
But before Remus could cast anything, Sirius finally managed to grab James around the middle, yanking him off the table. The two of them crashed to the floor in a heap, tangled limbs and laughter echoing through the room.
"Remus, now!" Sirius yelled, struggling to keep James pinned. "Before he breaks into an encore!"
Amidst the chaos, all you could do was watch, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite untangle. Part of you wanted to run over and help them—another part just wanted to keep watching James make a fool of himself, because somehow, in the midst of all this madness, he looked impossibly, endearingly charming.
The Gryffindor Common Room had turned into absolute pandemonium, with students shouting encouragements, laughing, and clapping along as James continued his wild serenade. Remus and Sirius were still struggling to contain him, and every failed attempt only seemed to fuel James’s increasingly unhinged performance.
But then, just when it seemed like there was no end in sight, Remus’s eyes lit up as he finally found the counter-spell.
"This better work," he muttered under his breath, raising his wand with determination. He sent a quick incantation into the air, releasing a stream of calming blue sparks that cascaded like gentle raindrops over James.
The effect was almost instantaneous. James froze mid-verse, one arm still outstretched dramatically toward you, his voice dying in his throat as the potion’s influence melted away. For a heartbeat, the entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
Then, clarity returned to James’s hazel eyes. He blinked several times, looking around the room as if waking from a dream, only to realize that he was standing on a table... wearing nothing but his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt.
The color drained from his face as the full weight of what he’d just done hit him.
"Bloody hell," he whispered, his voice cracking. He stumbled down from the table, desperately trying to pull his shirt closed, cheeks flaming so brightly they almost matched the Gryffindor colors.
"I—uh—", he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood awkwardly in front of you. The entire common room was still buzzing with laughter and whispers, but James only had eyes for you. "I... I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—"
Before he could finish his apology, you surprised everyone by bursting into laughter. You tried to cover your mouth with your hands, but the giggles kept spilling out, your eyes shining with genuine amusement.
"Oh, James," you managed between laughs, "I think that was the most... creative confession I’ve ever seen."
James’s eyes widened in disbelief. He’d expected you to be furious, embarrassed, or even disgusted, but instead, you were laughing—really laughing. The tension that had wound tight in his chest began to loosen, and though his face was still beet red, he couldn’t help the small, relieved smile that tugged at his lips.
"Y-You’re not... angry?" he asked, still bewildered, glancing down at his disheveled state.
You shook your head, stepping closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear, the laughter in your eyes softening into something warmer.
"Honestly, I’ve never been serenaded before," you teased, "especially not by someone standing on a table in their underwear." You couldn’t resist adding with a playful grin, "I think I might even be flattered."
James let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders finally relaxing.
"Well... that’s good," he said with a crooked smile, his confidence slowly creeping back now that he knew you weren’t mortified. "Because I think I just set a record for the world’s most embarrassing declaration of feelings."
You laughed again, your cheeks tinged pink as you replied,
"Definitely unforgettable, Potter."
Behind you, Sirius and Remus exchanged relieved grins, both of them panting slightly from their efforts. Sirius punched Remus lightly on the shoulder.
"See, Moony? Told you it would all work out," he said with a wink.
Remus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.
"Yes, but next time, maybe we use our words instead of potions?"
As the laughter in the common room slowly died down and students began to drift away, content with the evening’s unexpected entertainment, James took a tentative step closer to you.
"I, uh... I meant what I said, you know," he murmured, his voice low and earnest now that the chaos had settled. "Even if it came out in the most ridiculous way possible."
You felt your heart flutter at the sincerity in his eyes. The bravado, the showmanship—all of that had faded, leaving just James standing there, looking at you with that earnest, slightly sheepish expression that had always made your heart skip a beat.
"I know," you said softly, smiling up at him. "And... for what it’s worth, I’m glad you finally told me."
James’s eyes lit up, a boyish grin spreading across his face.
"Well, maybe next time, I’ll do it without the theatrics," he teased, scratching the back of his head.
You couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking your head.
"Oh, please, Potter. Like you could ever resist making a scene."
And with that, the tension between you two seemed to melt away entirely, replaced with a newfound ease. As the common room emptied out, Sirius threw an arm around James’s shoulders, winking at you.
"Come on, Prongs. Let’s get you some proper clothes before you catch a cold."
As they walked away, James turned back to look at you one last time, his eyes filled with a soft, unspoken promise. And for the first time, you found yourself looking forward to what tomorrow might bring—now that the air was finally clear.
The common room had finally quieted down, the raucous laughter and excited whispers fading as students slowly trickled out, heading to their dormitories with wide grins and lingering glances back at James. The fire had burned lower, casting a warm, flickering glow that painted the room in soft, amber tones.
By now, most of the chaos had settled, but James Potter remained by the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames with a look that was uncharacteristically solemn. He was now fully dressed, though his shirt was still slightly askew, and his hair—if possible—looked even messier than usual.
You approached quietly, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick rug underfoot. As you drew closer, you could see the slight furrow in his brow, the way he absently chewed on his lower lip, clearly lost in thought. The bravado and wild confidence that the potion had given him had evaporated, leaving him looking... vulnerable.
"Hey, Potter," you said softly, stopping just a few feet away.
He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with wide eyes.
"Oh, hey," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. "I... uh... didn’t think you’d want to talk to me after that whole... spectacle."
You couldn’t help but smile at how shy he suddenly seemed, so different from the overly confident boy who had just serenaded you in front of half of Gryffindor House. Taking a seat beside him on the couch, you nudged him playfully with your shoulder.
"You know," you began, your voice soft, "you didn’t need a potion to win me over."
James’s head snapped up, his eyes searching yours, hope flickering in them like the flames in the hearth.
"Wait... what?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat under his intense gaze.
"Yeah," you said with a small, shy smile. "I’ve... liked you for a while too. You’ve just never seemed to notice."
A mix of relief and disbelief washed over James’s face. He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.
"Merlin, I’ve been such an idiot, haven’t I?" he muttered. "All this time, I thought you were out of my league."
You laughed softly, shaking your head.
"James, you didn’t need to drink some ridiculous potion to tell me how you felt," you said, your voice turning a bit gentler. "I would’ve said yes if you’d just asked me... without all the theatrics."
He let out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, and a genuine, heartfelt smile spread across his lips—a stark contrast to the wild, potion-induced grin from earlier.
"In that case," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice low and sincere, "would you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? No potions, no serenades—just us?"
Your heart fluttered at the warmth in his eyes, and you nodded, returning his smile.
"I’d love that, James," you said softly.
James’s smile grew even brighter, his hazel eyes shining with a happiness that was entirely unguarded. Without the potion, without the chaos, he was just James—sweet, earnest, and charmingly awkward.
As the two of you shared a quiet, lingering moment, the sound of muffled laughter drifted over from the other side of the room. Turning your heads, you spotted Sirius and Remus lounging casually at a nearby table, watching the two of you with smug grins.
Sirius gave Remus an exaggerated clap on the back.
"See, Moony? What did I tell you? Our plan worked perfectly!" he declared, his voice low enough not to disturb your conversation but loud enough for you both to hear.
Remus shook his head, though he was smiling.
"You mean your accidental plan," he corrected, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the effect you were aiming for."
But Sirius just shrugged, flashing a triumphant grin.
"Details, details. The point is, it worked," he insisted. "Now Prongs has a date, and we’ve provided the entertainment of the year. I’d call that a success."
James groaned but couldn’t quite hide his smile as he turned back to you.
"I suppose I owe them a thank you," he said, his tone begrudging but playful.
"Or a very, very stern lecture," you teased, giggling softly.
He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
"I think I’ll settle for just focusing on next weekend," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "No potions this time. Just you and me."
And as you sat there, the warmth of the fire enveloping you both, it felt like the start of something new—something that had been brewing for a long time, even if it had taken a wild potion-induced serenade to bring it to the surface.
In the background, Remus and Sirius watched with satisfied grins, Remus leaning back in his chair with a soft sigh.
"Alright, Padfoot, you were right... this time," Remus admitted.
"Of course I was!" Sirius crowed, throwing an arm around Remus’s shoulders. "Now, what do you say we get some Butterbeer to celebrate my brilliance?"
As they made their way toward the portrait hole, the two of you shared a look, both shaking your heads fondly at your friends' antics. But as James’s hand tightened around yours, you realized you wouldn’t change a single thing about how this night had unfolded.
It had been chaotic, ridiculous, and more than a little embarrassing, but it had also brought you closer than you’d ever thought possible. And that, you decided, was entirely worth it.
#james potter x reader#james potter#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders x reader#marauders fanfiction#marauders
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a few words. l Joel Miller
Summary: words he didn't want you to hear
Warnings: angst, unpleasant conversation, they move away from each other
A/N: nothing special. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
Tommy looked at his brother as if he was seeing him for the first time in his life. He hadn't expected this and was slowly regretting that he had shown up at the stables with a few bottles of beer that evening.
"You can't be fucking serious." he finally said.
The man who was sitting on a haystack by the wall seemed exhausted. His brown eyes were fixed on the horse in the opposite stall, the bottle in his big hands still full of beer.
"You slept with her?" Joel looked at him surprised. "What? Simple question. Did you sleep with her or not?"
Joel shook his head. "No."
"But you wish you did."
He looked down, but he couldn't lie to someone who knew him so well. Of course he thought about it. Most often when he was alone in the dark bedroom. Memories of every kiss, tender touch, moments when he held you in his arms - all of these haunted him like ghosts.
He was furious because he wanted more. He wanted to be alive again, to feel again. But should he?
"Joel, you've known each other for years, you live together. Why are you messing with her head if you don't want anything to do with her?"
"It's not like that, Tommy..." his voice was tired, barely audible. "Everything's different with her."
"So why don't you want to give it a chance?" Tommy took a sip of beer. "I don't get it. If you want to be with her, then be. Tell her how you feel and..."
"I'm too old for this!" Joel snapped. "She deserves better, and I can't give it to her."
"Bullshit!" Tommy muttered.
There was silence for a moment. The distant noises of the city settling in for the night drifted through the open stable door. Tommy sat down next to his brother, resting his arms on his knees.
"She's a really nice girl," he said. "I see how she looks at you, cares about you and Ellie. Do you really want to break her heart like that?"
"She's tough."
"Yes, she is."
"Are you going out?"
You were just putting a thermos with a hot drink and a couple of sandwiches into your backpack, you didn't even look up when Joel went down to the kitchen in the morning.
"Yeah. I'm going on patrol." you answered.
Joel frowned. "Our turn is tomorrow."
"I swapped with Paul. He'll go with you. You two get along."
An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his heart sped up. The backpack was almost ready, and you didn't seem in the mood for long conversations.
"I'd rather go with you." he grumbled, coming closer and clenching his hands on the back of the chair.
"A change will do you good. It'll do us good too."
"Have you talked to Tommy about this?"
You slung your backpack over your shoulder and looked him in the eye for the first time. He saw something strange in that look. A mixture of sadness, anger, and some kind of severity. You hadn't looked at him like that before.
"You'll probably talk to him yourself, right?" you said "I think..." your voice broke for a moment, but you quickly got back on track. "I think when I get back I'll ask Maria to find me another place to live."
"W-What? Why?"
"We both know why."
You adjusted your backpack and left the house. The world you had built had just collapsed.
"What the fuck was I supposed to do?"
"You could have not let her go!"
"She's an adult, Joel! She came last night, said she had already talked to Paul. I couldn't say no to her." Tommy put the crate in the storage room and looked at Joel.
He could see that his brother was furious and distraught. You usually went on patrols together, Joel didn't like you going out alone. Although he knew you would manage, he didn't fully trust others. Now he had completely lost control over anything.
Tommy looked at him with pity. "I think she must have heard us yesterday. Maria saw her in town, she was upset. Then she showed up at our place. I didn't ask, it's none of my business."
"You could have stopped her." Joel repeated quietly.
"And you could have kept her with you. But you chose not to."
He could.
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist
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mephisto's recordings || Sylus Qin
[ sylus x f!reader. drabble. fluffy. from enemies to friends to not yet lovers yet harbouring feelings for one another. aka slowburn. mephie, the best listener ]
The dim lights of the office room cast an eerie glow across Sylus's rugged features as he sat in his usual armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey. His piercing crimson gaze flickered to the small device on the table before him, the one that recorded Mephisto's audio from his camera.
He hit play, the familiar sound of your voice filling the air. "You know, Mephie, Sylus isn't as bad as I first thought. He can be kind of funny sometimes, tolerable at best too." Your words were tinged with the slightest hint of fondness, making Sylus's lips twitch.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still an arrogant asshole most of the time." You continued, your voice carrying a light chuckle. "But I guess there's more to him than meets the eye. Like how he sends you to check up on me even when we're not... attached."
Sylus took a long sip of his drink, the amber liquid burning a path down his throat. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth at your unexpected praise. It was rare for you to let your guard down, especially when it came to him.
The recording continued, your voice drifting through the speaker. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Sylus and I weren't constantly at each other's throats. The idea of us fighting side by side as partners would've been nice. Don't tell him I said that, though. I have a reputation to maintain, after all."
A low chuckle rumbled in Sylus's chest. He knew all too well how much you valued your independence and your status as a formidable hunter. The idea of you showing any vulnerability, even to a mechanical crow, was both surprising and oddly endearing.
"He can be a real jerk sometimes, but... I think he means well."
Sylus felt a pang in his chest at your words. He knew he had a quite the name for himself, both in the N109 Zone and beyond. But you... you saw something in him that no one else did. Something he wasn't sure he fully understood himself.
"He's not as cold as he lets on." You continued, your voice soft and wistful. "He's got this whole tough guy act, but... there's more to him than that. More than anyone realizes. I can see why Luke and Kieran trust him wholeheartedly."
Sylus leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He'd always prided himself on being unreadable, on keeping his cards close to his chest. But you seemed to see right through him. And it both unnerved and intrigued him.
"Anyway, I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight, Mephie. Hopefully your boss would let you off for a day from putting you on nonstop watch duty like this." A playful jab escaped your lips made Mephisto let out a soft caw, as if agreeing to your words much to Sylus's amusement.
As the recording ended, Sylus leaned back in his seat, his thoughts drifting to you. Despite the tumultuous history and the constant push and pull, there was no denying the connection you both shared. Whether it was the energy linkage or something deeper, Sylus couldn't quite say.
But one thing was certain - you had wormed your way under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And as much as he enjoyed the verbal sparring matches, a part of him yearned for the day when you finally see him in a different light and allowed him to be in your life.
With a sigh, Sylus downed the rest of his whiskey and grabbed another bottle that was already prepared nearby. The night was young, and his mind was filled with the thought of you no matter how much he tried to shift his attention elsewhere. He has a feeling that things between him and you were far from over.
Someday soon, things will change - and hopefully for the better.
#sylus x you#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#lnds sylus#lads sylus#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace
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Hello! Could you possibly write a Sol x gn reader where the reader calls Sol and tells him to come inside and cuddle with them because they've been tired mentally and emotionally and just want to be held? And that they actually know that he's been sneaking in their apartment but they don't really care and actually they find it a little cute
Also I'm sorry if this sounds awkward, I don't know how to words things properly 😅
SOL X READER
Thank you so much for your request ^^ I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope I did an okay job
Fun fact, I'm actually working on making a Sol figure out of clay 💪
Anyway, enjoy!!
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It was dark outside; nothing could be heard but the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional hum of cars driving by. You felt tired, but no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep, nothing worked—the stress consuming you whole.
You sat up on your bed, trying some breathing exercises you saw online to calm your racing mind, but to no success. Your mind was occupied with all sorts of things that caused you a great immense of stress and you couldn't help but feel emotionally drained as a result. Oh, to have someone hold you close right now. You let out a small whine as you rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at your phone charging on the bedside table, thinking to yourself. Sol, wouldn't mind if you called him, right? You picked up your phone and checked the time. Sol should be on his way right now. But waiting for him would be a bit awkward, you doubted that he'd even go near your window if he saw that you were still awake. You looked to your bedside table once more, where a glass of orange juice stood untouched, waiting for you to take a sip. You could just drink it and let the sleeping pills do their work, or at least that's what you think that he'd put in your drink to ensure you'd be sound asleep around the time he arrived for his nightly visits.
With a deep sigh, you decided to not drug yourself tonight. Maybe you could just give him a call. It wouldn't come off as weird, right? In all defence, he was the one breaking into your apartment every night. If anyone was weird then it was definitely him and not you for calling him at this ungodly hour. You tapped on his contact and raised your phone to your ear, calling him. No answer. Was he asleep? No way. He wouldn't be. You looked at your phone in disbelief and tried it again after a few seconds. You stood up from your bed and made your way toward the window when he finally picked up.
"H-Hello..?" He greeted you in a hushed tone.
You let out a chuckle.
"Are you serious?" You asked playfully.
"Huh?" Sol replied in complete confusion. "What do you mean...?" his tone shifted nervously, but before he could question further, you cut him off with a smug grin.
"Look up." Now looking down at him from your open window.
He froze and went completely silent, not daring to move a single muscle.
"W-what—"
You hung up and leaned further out the window.
"Why, hello there!" You called, winking unbeknownst to him.
He slowly raised his head to look at you and the look on his face was priceless. You gave him a knowing smile, waiting for him to say something. "I can explain...!" He stammered, raising his hands in defence.
"Can you now?" You settled your chin in your hand, your elbow propped up on your windowsill.
"I-I was... just going for a walk" You looked at him with a bored expression on your face
"Oh, really?"
"Yes." He nodded trying to look confident. He might've convinced you if it weren't for his all-black outfit and mask. With a sigh, you decided to end the senseless interrogation.
"Just come inside."
"What...?!" He exclaimed loudly in bewilderment.
"You... want me to come inside?"
"That's what I said, yes."
You walked away from your window and sat on your bed. It took Sol a few seconds to process what had just happened. He pinched his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming. Upon realising that it was, in fact, real, he quickly but carefully climbed to your apartment. As he slipped in through your window, making sure to close the window, he now stood before you, his face flushed crimson red. You let out a yawn and made yourself comfortable on your bed to which his breath slightly stutters."Can we cuddle?"
"What...?" he stammered, looking taken aback. "I said, can we cuddle?" You repeated, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment before muttering a quiet "Fuck it..." before walking toward you. He awkwardly tried to make himself comfortable next to you, keeping his arms close to himself, too nervous to touch you. His whole body tensed when you, without warning, wrapped your arms around him snuggling your head against his neck. Inhaling his scent, you let out a contented sigh. He lets you wrap your limbs around him, sensing that there's something wrong. He began to ease up in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and began to gently stroke your head.
"Thank you..." You whispered quietly against his neck and he felt a shudder run down his spine. "No problem..." He whispered back, as a lovesick expression appeared on his face. Not paying him any mind you closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep in his his embrace.
#the kid at the back sol x reader#the kid at the back x reader#the kid at the back#tkatb sol#tkatb x reader#tkatb sol x reader#tkatb
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younger! Reader having a pregnancy scare and she’s freaking out while Chris is just happy he might be a dad(she ended up not being preggo 🙁)
"I'm really worried about you, doll." Chris says, helping you to get back in the bed after spit out all your breakfast. He lightly rubs your hands, while you give him a weak smile, trying to tell him you're doing fine, even though you're not. You lay your head on the pillow, inhaling the scent of Chris in the bed sheets, the boy brushes your hair off your pale face. "You can handle anything in your stomach since monday."
"I'm probably just having a stomach bug, I'll be fine soon." You say, your voice sounds rasp, Chris groans rolling his blue eyes, really worried about how you're doing lately. Suffering with headaches, puking your meals and he's pretty sure your period is late, because you didn't complain about any cramps this month yet. He's really thinking about this.
Like, he knows you're only nineteen, but he also knows you sometimes fuck raw and even though you take pills, sometimes accidents happens.
"Doll, you're sure this is not — you know." Chris hums, you frown your eyebrows in confusion, lifting your body to stare at him better. Chris sighs, holding your waist to help you to sit, he rests his hand on your thigh.
"This is not what?" You ask, genuinely confused about what he's talking about. Chris lowered his eyes, looking at your belly covered with his blue hoodie, you follow his eyes, staring at your body too. You widen your eyes once you realize what he's talking about. Definitely no. "Chris, no. I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant."
"You don't know!" He groans. You take a deep breath, shaking your head, giggling lightly. This is crazy, you're not pregnant, Chris' just overreacting on your sickness. "Look, you're throwing up, getting more tired and I know your period is late." He points, sounding a bit desperate. You cup his cheeks, smiling soft and shaking your head again.
"Baby, I'm on birth control and my period is not late." You say, trying to relax your desperate boyfriend. Chris opens his mouth, but you cover his lips with your thumbs. "I'm just having bad days, probably because I'm getting more stressed with my exams. Don't put this on your head, pretty."
"You should take a test to make sure."
"Stop saying this, okay? I'm definitely not pregnant." You giggle, kissing Chris' lips.
You're not pregnant, or you are? Your stomach bug is still making you puke your meals, now your period is really late by some days. Maybe Chris is right, maybe you're growing a baby in your uterus. The idea of being pregnant makes you feel scared, you're only nineteen, you definitely can't have a baby, not now. Chris is still worried, he bought a pregnancy test the other day, but he didn't say anything, because he knows you'd deny taking the test.
Sitting on the couch, rubbing your own arms, after throwing up again. Chris brings you a glass of water, his worried eyes staring at your soul. He kneeled down in front of you, rubbing your knee.
"Maybe I'm pregnant." You murmur, your voice cracking, almost sounding like a whisper. Chris frowns his eyebrows, resting the glass on the coffee table, he holds your hands and rests them on your thigh. "Maybe you're right."
"You want to take a test?" He asks, rubbing your small hands. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, only a weak sight. He takes this as a 'yes', he squeezes your hands before lift and walks towards his room to take the test he's been hiding in the bathroom cabinet. He walks back, sitting by your side and handing you the box.
"I'm scared, Chris." You whisper, he nods grabbing your chin to give you a peck on your lips. You smile, a weak smile trying to be positive. You don't want to be pregnant.
"I'm here with you, doll. It doesn't matter if it's positive or negative, I'll be by your side." Chris cups your cheeks, your eyes getting glassy by the fear of being a mother at nineteen, but Chris' words help you to calm down a bit.
You walk to Matt's bathroom, Chris waits for you outside. You take the test with your hands shaking, your heart racing and your lips trembling. Outside of the bathroom, Chris is thinking about you being pregnant, he wants to be a dad and wants to grow a family with you. Of course he's scared, he doesn't know how to take care of the baby, but he'll figure it out. He's thinking about all of this and he doesn't know if you're really pregnant, but in case you are, he's already ready for the news.
"Chris?" You call, the test upside down on the sink. Chris comes in, holding your shoulders and rubbing lightly. "I didn't look yet, I'm too scared."
"We're gonna figure it out, babydoll. Trust me." Chris says, picking the test and looking at the visor. His smile fades when he sees the result, you widen your eyes picking the test from his hand. Your body instantly relaxes, you were freaking out.
Negative. You're not pregnant.
"Thank God, I was shitting my pants." You smile, resting your head on Chris' shoulder. "We're not gonna be parents, at least for a while." You sigh, genuinely happy for not carrying a baby. But Chris looks kinda. . . Upset? You frow your eyebrows, putting the test back in the sink, you hold your boyfriend's hands and give him a kiss on the chin. "Baby, you want me to be pregnant? Be honest."
"Hm, no — I mean, I kinda like the idea of having a kid with you." He says, you smile nodding with your head. You let it go his hands and cup his cheeks. "I would like to be a dad."
"Oh, baby. I would love to be a mom and have kids with you, but we're too young for this. In a couple years, when we have our own place, we can think about a baby." You brush your thumb on his cheek, offering a soft smile. Even though you're only nineteen, you're really mature. Your words make Chris smile and nod, that's okay for him. Having a baby in a couple years, he'll remember this. "I love you, baby."
"I love you so much more, babydoll. Mother of my future kids."
꩜ chérie's notes: y/n is not pregnant and chris' upset :(((( poor baby, just want a baby to call he dad.
taglist ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt
masterlist. | taglist.
#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#꒰ younger.ᐟreader ꒱#꒰ older.ᐟchris ꒱#chris sturniolo x y/n#ꞌꞌ ࣪ chérie loves yapping ✿ . ꒱#chris sturniolo fanfic
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Wanting to follow up on the previous snippet of titan!Orion and cityspeaker!D-16 I came up with this: D-16 was processing everything that had happened that day in finding the titan: he found a race of titans that Sentinel Prime had said was extinct, but Orion seemed alive even though he couldn't transform so D-16 thought it was for lack of Energon. Secondly, finding the way out of that place was the most difficult thing because that titan didn't let him go at any time, he almost crushed him in his servos. Thirdly, as he explained to the miners, maybe someone would recognize them and they would come after him. Many things were going through the bot's head as he put down his tools while he went to berth to rest and have some peace but… -Deeeeee - a voice sounded in his head making him sigh, he tried to ignore it but the voice sounded again in his mind - Deeeee, come on I know you can hear me. We have a connection, buddy
-Some people sleep at this hour. Besides I've had a long day - said D-16 trying to find a position to sleep.
-But D… come on, I've been sleeping for I don't know how many cycles. Come on, get back here,” said Orion. So they stayed all night, some miners saw D-16 with the marks and what looked like the optics somewhat off that he had not been able to rest as he should. He had the same day as always taking the miner's tools to repair until he saw a bot in his path. Darkwing.
-Excuse me, sir - said D while Darkwing pushed him.
-That aside, miner, you are more absent-minded lately. One more mistake and you'll be back to level 1 or sub level 40… - Darkwing said as D-16 was about to respond, tremors were felt throughout the cave causing everyone to panic. D tried to keep his balance so as not to fall until the tremors ended. 'What just happened' thought D as he picked up the tools and left leaving Darkwing confused.
-That guy shouldn't have treated you like that I hope with this. Learn your lesson,' said Orion as D was somewhat shocked to hear him.
-Was it you with the tremor, what were you thinking? You could have done a lot of damage,” said D-16.
-Come on, I'm very careful, just give the necessary touches. Besides, sitting in the cave is very boring…. I need to move around a bit - said Orion leaving D-16 sighing.
-Yes, I'm going to see you, will you stay still? - said D-16
-You have my word - said Orion A moment later… After dodging the security system and a few guards. He had finally arrived. The cave had the illumination of the optics of Orion who did not hesitate to put his servo on the ground to climb up to D and see him more closely with a smile.
-Listen we have to have some rules, your movements threaten the foundation of the mine area. So I guess you'll have to find your way out of the place,” said D-16 while Orion nodded.
-I was just trying to defend you… You're the first being I've seen since I woke up. I want to know everything that happened and for you to tell me,” said Orion as D sighed.
-You are a pain in the spark… It's okay I can give you that information,” said D-16 letting Orion closer to D's face making him feel helpless as he received a gentle caress. D-16 had a small blue blush, he didn't know what intentions this titan had but it was clear he was going to get him all riled up as much as he could but on the other hand he wouldn't mind if he did.
#maccadam#maccadams#transformers g/t#g/t#giant/tiny#transfomers#d 16 x orion pax#tf one orion pax#tf one d 16#tf one megop#megop#megatron#tf one#transformers one#tf one 2024#d 16#orion pax#transformers x reader#optimus prime#transformers#sammy drabbles#titan au#transformers au
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I'm so feral about Nephite, like I want to just keep him on my lap for weeks.
Would he be okay with wearing a collar if reader gifted it to him, readers name engraved on the leather, Nephite's name in cursive letters on a pendant.
Idk man isk
i remember talking about omega collars with my friend awhile ago and i stumbled upon a post that tried to make omegaverse collars that work as guards for scent glands/marks. so i know you meant a more traditional dog collar but this is what made sense to me. and i even drew it!
the idea
cw;; omegaverse, religion, suggestive, marking
nephite was surprised when you mentioned a collar, you talked about it so casually like it was inevitable that he would wear a collar. the omega flustered, his face growing red as he struggled to find his words.
"wh-what do you me-mean? my-my collar..."
"oh. are you not ok with it? i knew a lot of omegas who would get collars to protect their scent glands."
"oh!! oh... ri-right! lots of... lots of other... omegas..." he shifted from side to side in your lap his hands fidgeting and fumbling.
"i want to get something nice that'll show off your bite without exposing your neck. what do you think?"
"uhm... o-ok..."
honestly nephite had only agreed because he worried you preferred omegas in collars. if he said no maybe you wouldn't want him anymore!! maybe you would run off with a collared omega, a more obedient one. so despite his own hesitations to be caught wearing such a thing he agreed.
until he saw it.
it was a genuine omega collar that covered up the crook of his neck in a beautiful white lace with golden patterns woven into it. the middle of it was chained together with a sturdy chain, towards the bottom of it was a beautiful blue gem that opened up to show your name and address. his own name was embroidered on the back of the collar that would be hidden by his hair. like his own name was unimportant in the face of your ownership.
"you won't have to wear turtlenecks anymore."
"oh-oh... i... we-well those were for modesty..."
"you don't have to be modest anymore."
his cheeks turned a bright pink as you stepped forward, your fingers undoing the collar's latches.
"maybe... maybe we should w-wait...?" he took a step back from you.
you tilted your head, concerned. "what's wrong? do you not like it? i picked the gold to match your eyes."
"i... i like it... i do!" he did. it was so thoughtful and intimate, his heart was racing.
"but...?"
"but... it feels... a little.... inappropriate..? sh-should i really wear that in public...."
"you don't have to but it's really not something perverted. you can see omegas in collars all the time in the city."
he fidgeted back and forth. "do you like omegas in collars?"
"i mean it's hot. I've always wanted to put a collar on my own omega and show the world I own you."
he shivered. "you... mmngh... you just said it's not dirty."
"it's not! just because something is sexy doesn't mean it's dirty. like wearing thigh highs or low cut tops."
"those both sound sinful."
"ok... but is it sinful for an alpha to own his omega?"
"no..."
"so it's fine!"
"i... mmngh... i really want to wear it... i do! i just... everyone will stare..."
you stepped closer this time reaching out to him with an empty hand, like you were approaching a startled cat. nephite didn't pull away this time instead he moved a little bit closer to your hand.
"everyone should stare at you. everyone should look at you and think 'wow there goes the prettiest omega I've ever seen'. and then they'll see my bright red mark under your collar and know that you're mine."
"I'm yours..." his cheeks were red as he nuzzled into your hand.
you reached forward with the collar and started to slowly slide it on him. he let out a little moan.
"I'm yours."
"mhm. my pretty omega."
nephite moved his hair out of the way as you tightened the collar around his neck. the cold metal laid against his windpipe just tight enough to always remind him of it's presence. he reached up to the blue gem and started to fiddle with it.
"uhmm.. i-i know you just put it on but... can-can we go to the bedroom... and m-maybe make more marks underneath...."
#replies#yandere oc#sub yandere#yandere x male reader#top male reader#male reader#yandere cultist#alpha reader#alpha!reader
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in my daydreams.
han taesan x reader
yn mentally escapes from her physics class, losing herself in the scenarios in her head (in other words, yn is delusional), follow along her train of thoughts as she crushes hard on her classmate. lowercase intended, cuss words. pls ignore any grammar or spelling errors! enjoyy
wc: 1,448
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"the law of the conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. that being said..."
i drowned him out after that - my physics teacher, i mean - i drowned it all out. it wasn't my fault though, it was all on him. it was his fault. no, no! not my physics professor...this is all han taesan's fault.
what did he do exactly? well...nothing. the truth is he never does anything! and that's exactly it. he does absolutely nothing and i still find myself constantly stealing glances at him. at his stupid face, his idiotic light brown eyes, his dumb smile, and his perfectly white pearly teeth...and his honey-like voice...his hair that turned a light brown against the sun...his...ugh!
god fucking dammit
as i sit here, in physics class - which, by the way, i absolutely despise physics class - i can't help but be distracted. just look at him! sitting there, right next to the window...i wouldn't be shocked if a bird distracted itself from it's flock and came flying right through it, if i were a bird i know i would. there was a singular pen in his hand, one of those expensive pens with his name engraved on it - probably a gift from his dad, he's always mentioning his dad. anyways, the pen spun against his fingers, his long and lanky fingers...sometimes i can't help but wonder what they'd feel like between my own; would they warm me up? or would it only feel that way because i'd be blinded by the affection? the pen smacked against his knuckles, they're red now from the friction. then the spinning stopped, and i watched as he began jotting words down in his lined notebook - guess there are notes i should be taking.
my chin rested on the palm of my hands and i look away from him for a moment. i sigh, who turned the air conditioner down? why is it always freezing in physics class? as i pondered, my eyes fell shut - lucky for me, i sat at the very back of the room, a spot the professor's poor eyesight can't reach. i felt my shoulder slouch as i relaxed into the uncomfortable chair, in a second i'm gone.
my mind's blank, but only just for a moment before i'm met with images of him again. seriously, i can't even rest for a moment without his face all up in my business? can't he leave my brain alone? please? i'm saying this like i hate it, but truly i don't - i can't. it's hard for me to hate something i really love more than anything. so, instead of trying to rid of his figure in my mind, my unconscious soul walks towards him.
mmm, i can almost taste him. a sweet smell that i can never put my finger on - i mean, it's woody, like a deep foggy forest...but it almost smells like freshly baked cookies from my grandma's kitchen. it's his scent though, that much i can tell you. he glows in my dreams, like edward cullen - minus the whole vampire thing, my fantasies aren't that weird, he just glowed like one. he looks right at me, this is something that truly only happens in my head. his eyes are so soft, yet there's a cat-like charm to them that makes my stomach turn.
"yn"
he calls out to me, his voice the most hypnotic noise. the figure of myself follows him, an arm linked with mine as he traces his other hand against my face. it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it, i could feel the strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach - it felt so real, i could just throw up. and then he leans in, he never kisses me though. he just pauses there, looking me in the eyes like we were in the middle of some sort of a highly prestigious staring contest. to be honest, if he weren't so insanely gorgeous, i'd think him a creep.
"yn!"
he calls out again, though it's a bit loud for the close proximity that we're in. and he sounded strange...he almost sounds like...my...
physics teacher?
fuck.
"huh? present! um-" i could feel the gazes of my classmates piercing through my skin. "yn, would you like to share with the class what you were daydreaming about?" oh, prof...you know damn fucking well i can't do that...
my teacher said something else, he's probably scolding me or saying something utterly ridiculous to embarrass me in front of my friends, i don't know though, it's not like i listened. i couldn't stop myself from wondering, what if i had just told it straight? what if i had answered my professor's stupid question with an even more dimwitted answer? 'what were you daydreaming about?' and i'd just get up from my seat and scream at the top of my lungs
"taesan"
huh...?
the name that escaped my teacher's tongue brings me back to reality, again. i'm paying full attention now. "taesan...you will be paired with...ah, look at that..." c'mon old man, quit stalling. i don't even know why we're making pairs right now, but i need to know what idiot he has to work with so i can turn them into the enemy in my fantasies and- "our very own daydreamer..." wait, did he say daydreamer? that can only mean one thing...i mean, unless someone else has been referred to as a daydreamer before.
"taesan, your pair is yn. i wish you luck"
ignoring the last bit of the sentence, which was an obvious kick at my lack of physics enthusiasm, i was almost overjoyed. fuck, this might be the actual only time i might like doing something related to this class.
i watched as taesan nodded, his lips were pursed together - i wonder if he was upset...i mean if i were as hot as him, i'd be well over pissed if i was paired with me - no offence. but as i was thinking that, he turned around in his seat to look at me - and i mean actually look at me! and as if this wasn't already a dream come true, he smiled at me! does he know how absolutely insane this drives me?! i mean, quick! somebody pinch me! pinch me and tell me it's fake!
i must've been lost in my head again because the next time i opened my eyes i almost died of shock. low and behold, han taesan right in front of me - like, inches away from me.
"don't know if you know, but we're pairs..." i can't believe it he's actually talking to me! my eyes must've gone wide, and my mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. he laughed at me. he laughed at me. you know that kind of stupid laugh a guy does when he just knows he's causing some sort of chemical reaction in my body right now - or as i like to call it, the absolutely shit-eating asshole laugh.
he's so lucky he's hot.
"lucky for you..." he said, turning the chair from the table in front of mine around to sit and face me. "i actually listened in class, so you don't have to - i know, i know, no need to thank me" asshat, but i can't help the feeling of a fluttering flower blooming in the very depths of my body - lower abdomen, to be specific. i still haven't spoken a word to him - i mean, i'd love to, but i just couldn't seem to.
"so the whole point of this project is to explain everything about motion" i know of other things that could be put into motion...what? ew! yn, get your head out of the gutter! i'm sorry, sir isaac newton definitely did not die for this.
"listen, you're cute and all, but can we save the rest of the daydreaming for later? i kind of need to pass this physics class" he's right, i should stop, this is inappropriate and not very cool of me- wait...did he call me cute?!?!?? ME? CUTE?
"you there?" i finally get myself together. "uh- oh! yeah, sorry about that...what're we doing again?" i just know i looked like an absolute fool. and i swear to whatever being that i was trying to stay professional and calm, but when he laughs and when he smiled at me with that stupid dumbass fucking idiot smile of his, i just can't seem to think straight.
i may not know much about physics, but i know one thing for sure. and it's that for as long as i, yn ln, have to work together with him, han taesan...
i'm completely and utterly so fucking cooked.
the end.
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i never really write in this pov but i kinda love this 🫢 hope u guys did too!! yn is so me when i have a crush on someone - it's always like i almost hate them so much because of how much i like them lmao 😭 tysm for reading! love, kona.
perm taglist (lmk if u wanna be added)
@en-dream
#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor#boynextdoor drabbles#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x reader#taesan#taesan x reader#boynextdoor taesan#bnd taesan#han dongmin#han taesan#bnd x reader
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I agree with you that they're like that, and I think "understand" is sort of an insufficient word here, because for example: you could "understand" that the stove is hot and will burn you if you touch it, but if you go on putting your hand directly on it everyday expecting something different to happen, do you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 understand that fact? I would say probably not. It clearly hasn't sunk in. In the same way, men don't truly "understand" that hurting/using women is wrong because they keep doing it. (I really wish there were a word for when you "get" something so thoroughly that it would be unimaginable to consciously do it again, because that's what I'm trying to convey.)
When I speak of "evolution" here I am talking about spiritual evolution, and while I know that many people think that's hogwash, I should clarify what I mean. In my opinion, people who are more spiritually evolved have enough of an innate understanding (even if it's not articulated even to themselves) of the Oneness of things and that they just "get" that its wrong to hurt and use people. Because they're inwardly connected to this Oneness, hurting others hurts them too. So they don't do it.
On the other hand, sadism and exploitation is a sign of existing at a lower level of spiritual evolution, one where you're very disconnected from an understanding of this Oneness. Men and women both "understand" what evil is, but for men its only intellectual because they cannot connect. Understanding intellectually isn't enough, it's the CHOICE that demonstrates 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 "understanding" and determines one's level of evolution.
Since women rarely need to be taught not to do the awful things that come so naturally to most men across all cultures and throughout history, I'll always see them as inherently more evolved.
I've noticed that men usually only see what things are on a very superficial level, and women are able to see not just what they are but what they 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯. We see the larger picture, the symbolism that men either can't see or choose to ignore.
For example, when a woman tells her fiance 4,897 times that when they feed each other cake at the wedding, to please not smash the cake all over her face. She couldn't be clearer that this is immensely important to her. He says, "Okay" - and when the time comes he smashes the cake all over her face, guffawing.
Or when a marriage is on the rocks because a wife feels consistently disrespected and unappreciated, and she gives her husband one last chance to demonstrate that he loves her - and she comes home to a trail of rose petals that lead to a sink full of his dirty dishes. And he calls it a joke.
Men in the comments of these videos say things like, "Gosh, if she gets that mad over a little frosting/a joke, he's better off without her!" But women can understand in a flash that of COURSE its not about frosting or a poor joke - because what buffoon would think that? Its about the total disregard for her feelings; the way that all these things say, "You can plead with me about something that's important to you a million times, and I'll deliberately disregard it and laugh in your face about it. Why? 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦."
And you can't get men to understand any of this. Try it. They'll just say things like, "you obviously can't take a joke just like the other woman here" and eventually trot out some misogynistic slurs. They're literally just not at a level of evolution to understand these things that are so easily grasped by women. As someone once said, "You can't speak butterfly language to caterpillar people."
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this not now kitten gifset just brought to mind for me all the fics that feature daniel (old daniel especially god bless) calling daniel baby or babe and armand just melts like you get the occasional did he just call ME a 514 year old ancient vampire baby?? but mostly he eats it up and i just need that to happen on the show asap
(this is the gifset in question)
I'm not a big pet name person but I've seen this fanon so much that I've internalized it too 😭
Have young and old Daniel calling Armand babe:
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1976
"What did you just say?"
Heat rushes to Daniel's cheeks, and suddenly he wants to bury his head in the ground. It had slipped out so naturally he didn't realise until his handsome vampiric stalker raised a sardonic eyebrow and questioned him in that stupidly silky voice.
Daniel runs a hand through his tangled curls, trying to casually hide his reddened face behind his arm. "I said, uh, do you wanna go to the movies tonight? You're always following me anyways, so might as well go together, right?" he rambles.
A shadow of malicious glee flits over Armand's angelic face. "No, that's not all that you said. Repeat it exactly."
Daniel thinks he would rather Armand just kill him right now and put him out of his misery.
"Don't be stupid, Daniel. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago. Now, speak."
The humiliation increases tenfold when a shiver runs down Daniel's spine at being commanded like a dog. The wicked glint in Armand's eyes confirms that he has noticed this and will be using this information to further his evil plot against Daniel's chastity.
Daniel mumbles, "Do you wanna go to the movies tonight... babe?"
Armand's terrible smile widens. It's almost blinding in its brilliance. But Daniel can't look away even if he wanted to. Armand is magnetic, the way he draws Daniel closer until the unnaturally cool huff of laughter from Armand's lips ghosts across his own. He shivers again.
Armand whispers like he's imparting a profound secret, "I would love to, beloved."
The endearment melts sweetly on his tongue.
2024
"Check this out, babe!"
It slips out of Daniel so smoothly that it takes Armand by complete surprise. His breath catches. Citrine eyes flick toward the younger vampire's glowing expression before quickly casting their gaze down to where a phone was being held in front of his face. For a moment, Armand is too conscious of the warmth creeping up his cheeks to pay attention to what Daniel is showing him.
His silence prompts Daniel to peer at him, his eyebrows knitting together.
"Babe? You alright? It's fine if you're not interested," Daniel says, a tad sheepishly. As if he's not making Armand's long dead nervous system go into overdrive.
It's an advertisement for a drive-in theatre showing 80s horror films, Armand realises faintly.
"No - that sounds lovely - we should go." The words tumble out of his mouth as he shifts his weight back to put some distance between them for fear of Daniel noticing the way his pulse quickens from the little endearment.
It's far too late. Daniel's shrewd green eyes morph into keen orange.
"You're turned on," he says bluntly. "It better not be from that picture of Freddy Krueger."
Armand lets out a snort. "You wound me, Daniel."
"Then..." A predatory smirk slowly spreads across Daniel's face. "What is it, babe?"
"Insolent brat," Armand says, without any bite. His cheeks are burning. Why did he feed so recently?
"Come on, baby, tell me what's wrong." Daniel is full on grinning as he leans forward, taking Armand's hand in his and dropping light kisses on each of his fingertips. "I'll take care of it for you, babe."
Armand's stomach flutters like a swarm of locusts.
"Such impertinence toward your maker," he says fondly, as Daniel moves on to pawing at his waist. He allows himself to be pulled onto Daniel's lap and melts into his arms with a contented sigh. "I am four centuries your elder, yet you insist on calling me 'babe'. Doesn't it sound ridiculous?"
Daniel shakes his head. "Who cares, as long as you like it? It's not about age. When you're a thousand years old and I'm five hundred and something, I'll still call you 'babe' and I'll still ask you to go to the movies with me. You know, like... Like our first date."
Armand stares at him, at the earnestness in Daniel's upturned face, at the way Daniel's cheeks still redden under his scrutiny.
Daniel shifts nervously. "H-Hey, don't just stare at me like that, say something, babe."
Clasping Daniel's face in his hands, Armand says, "Beloved, I'm going to make you come so hard you see God."
Daniel's eyes widen.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#devil's minion#armandaniel#armand#daniel molloy#amc iwtv#written by armandsfangs#fanfic
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