#I have tolerated this for a year and a half isn’t it enough

[brunetterightsactivist]

So basically Saturn retrograde means my boss is finally gonna get her karma for treating me like I’m a useless worker with the brain of a chicken right? RIGHT?

[joelsbunnyboy]

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⟡ ݁₊ .

Joel will do anything to keep you in bed for just a little bit longer. . .

tags: MDNI, pre-breakout, afab!reader, gn!reader, smut & fluff, soft dom!Joel, age gap (26, 32), sleepy sex, handjob, cowgirl, Joel's just a man, praise, p in v, creampie

wordcount: 1.4k

if there was a Heaven above, then why did Joel’s arms feel as if you were already there? 

you hadn’t expected to grow so fond of this old man. his scruff, the way he’d press kisses into your skin, nuzzle you, cook for you... it was enough to make your heart melt.  you enjoyed taking care of Sarah as well. even though she wasn’t your flesh nor blood, she loved you enough for it to be bypassed easily. seeing her face light up every time you entered the room was rewarding enough as it was. she loved seeing her daddy happy again, and it made you grow warm inside. 

Joel was not a morning person though. 

even though being a contractor required him to work as an early bird, he didn’t enjoy it at all. Joel was the worst person in the morning. he was often quiet for the first thirty minutes, because he knew he had nothing to say from that trap of his. 

of course, waking him up with kisses made him kind of tolerate the morning sun. 

“’s too damn bright..”  Joel grunted, waking you up. you smiled in your sleep, eyes fluttering open gently.  “hmm. let me close em,”  “and have you leave me in this cold, lonely bed? absolutely not.”  Joel said, pulling you impossibly closer. he began gently kissing over your shoulders, his nose nuzzling your ear sweetly. it tickled; not enough to make you shriek, but enough to feel that he was there.   “Joeeellllll... the sun isn’t just bothering you, y’know?”  you laughed, squirming a little. you knew you couldn’t escape Joel’s grasp, even if you really tried.  Joel let you get up. you swung your legs from the bed and stretched. you had fallen asleep wearing one of his red and black checker striped flannels, but no bottoms on. 

he whistled when he saw you close the blinds and curtains, your butt peeking out from the garment.  “damn. i’ll never get sick of your body,”  Joel whispered loud enough for you to hear. turning to face him, you smiled and blushed.  “i know you say that a lot... but you really mean it?”  you asked bashfully. you climbed back into bed, only for Joel to pull you close, your nose in his left pectoral, tickled by his hairy chest with tufts of gray mixing with the dark brown.  “’course i mean it, sweet pea. i've been alive for thirty-two goddamn years, and i can confidently say that they can’t make another you.”  you blushed at his words. Joel began gently rubbing his hands up and down your back, breathing in the scent of your hair. one of his hands came up to run through the strands. whenever it got caught on a knot, he’d gently rub and detangle, wanting you at complete ease. 

“remember when we were at Cosco and someone thought you were my dad?”  “’course i do, baby. i was mortified.”  “nah, you had a boner when we were walking away.”  “watch it, sweet pea. i ain’t a good man at the crack of dawn by any means.”  Joel said warningly. you got an idea, and it made you smirk. 

“oh yeah? you wanna go there, ‘ol man?”  you challenged, smirking.  Joel gave you the tiniest bit of warning in his look; those squinted eyes, slightly wrinkled nose, lips pursed.  “sweetheart, i’m warnin’ you.”  he whispered. but you didn’t listen. no, listening would be too easy with Joel. you knew he wouldn’t do anything to truly hurt you, right? 

“hmm... i don’t know...”  you began. your hand gently trailed down his happy trail, and goosebumps visibly rose on his arms.  “baby, i can’t.. ‘s too early,”  he began, grunting when you took his half-hard cock into your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.  “sure, you can, Joel. i’ll just get a quick ride in.”  you said, snickering. you reached over the bedside table and dripped some lube into your hand, leaning over to start stroking him to full hardness.  Joel keened, eyes slipping shut, his bottom lip caught in his teeth.  “fuck, baby... your hand feels so good. jus’ like always,”  he whispered. you hummed in response, snuggling into Joel as you continued touching him. 

masturbation was quite rare for Joel. he knew he could always ask you to get him off, and you always did the same as well. it was harder to have intimacy when Sarah was around, but in the early mornings like this, it was rare to be disturbed.   Joel gently bucked into the touch, his head leaning to the side. you caught the que and gently kissed him, your eyes shutting in bliss. there was nothing more intimate than this, you thought. touching your boyfriend, making him feel good. Joel being your boyfriend. it was a silly thought; this old man that was grumpy and only truly loved his daughter, his brother (on a good day), and you. he was your boyfriend.   Joel stopped your train of thought when he stopped the kiss, pulling your hand away. he pulled the blanket all the way down and dribbled more lubricant along his length. 

“c’mere,”  Joel said. you complied and hoisted yourself up, nearly bounding into his lap like a golden retriever.  “easy, sweetheart, easy. i ain’t the same man I was a decade ago.”  Joe said in a breathy chuckle, but was immediately silenced when you lifted the flannel, rubbing your sopping wet folds over his tip. you gently rubbed his tip over your clit as well, your back arching as you moaned wantonly.  “fuck, baby, look at you.”  Joel breathed. his hands gently cradled your hips, his thumbs rubbing tender circles into them.  “go on. take a ride, darlin’.”  he said, smirking. 

the initial feeling of Joel penetrating you would never get boring. you had decided on that months ago. and you were reminded exactly why it was so great every time you both made love. 

warm rays of orange mixing with yellow began burning through the curtains and blinds, making Joel grit his teeth.  “damnit. Sarah’s gonna be up in a bit. we don’t have ti-”  you cut off Joel by sitting on him, his cock throbbing inside of you. the feeling made you both choke in unison. you smiled down at him.  “well then i guess you’re gonna have to be quiet.”  you laughed. you knew being quiet was easier for Joel than you. after all, he wasn’t the one taking a fat cock inside of him. 

you began rocking back and forth, settling him even deeper. Joel kept whimpering and groaning; his head thrown back. being sleepy made him especially sensitive. you definitely needed to fuck him like this more often. he looked so pretty under the lights, his beard soft against his rugged skin.. you wanted to keep him for forever. 

kissing him, your rocking became gentle like a basket of ostrich feathers. pulling away, you whispered sweetly,  “you’re so fuckin’ handsome, Joel.. i can’t believe you’re my man. my man.”  you said, smiling against his lips. just when Joel thought you were being merciful, you reached down to rub your clit in time with your bouncing. you shuddered and moaned against his lips, your coupling gentle and romantic. 

“Joel.. babe, fuck, i’m gonna cum.”  you warned, choked up.  “go ahead, sweetheart. i got you,”  Joel panted. his hands cupped your ass, and he spread his legs, starting to thrust up into you. you cried out, which Joel immediately slapped a hand over your lips to silence you.  “shut it. you wanna wake Sarah, huh?”  Joel asked harshly. you shook your head, eyes rolling back in bliss. 

you came hard on Joel’s cock. you were nearly shrieking and convulsing, your pussy milking the life out of Joel. he groaned, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. he kept his thrusts up, his cock pumping fat spurts of cum against your silky cervix. you mewled at the feeling, now content and warm.  

Joel kept himself inside of you, his legs relaxing. he hissed when you shifted on top of him.  “you okay?”  you asked, voice soft. all Joel could bite out in response was,  “.. yeah.. jus’ got a cramp in my leg,”  “fuck, you’re old.” 

[fumifooms]

Rin, smiling, and nagging

Rinsha Fana’s character is summarized in a couple facts thrown here and there. Because she worries for him, she follows Kabru to help his cause and protect him, and to nag him. She’s a grumpy angry tsundere, but it seems not only rooted in her attitude but on a deep rooted physical level, to the point where any intense emotion she feels will make her frown and scowl even if it’s genuine joy. Her childhood was half spent ostracized in the tallman community her family lived in and half with the elves, where she’s said to have been treated like an animal.

We don’t know how she was raised exactly or who it even was, but knowing she was "treated like an animal" by the elves taking care of her…

Elves are shown to have a highly hierarchical society, not only with their concern with status such as nobility and the purity of bloodlines but also reflected by its social culture imo. They have high society and etiquette, upmost devotion to the queen, very role-oriented, like cogs in a machine, and as such, it’s a bit skewed since most of what we see of the elves is in a military context with military people but they seem to value having emotions under lock and key to be efficient and not bring dishonor, Flamela is an interesting character on this. Don’t be a bother and do your job until you’re called on, fulfill your role, everything else is extra at best inconvenient at worst.

Personally I do think the canaries kept Rin, it’d make sense that whichever canaries got stuck with the job at the headquarters would be barebones with her and treat her like an ‘impounded article’, they couldn’t find another place for her and this way they can get her report on the events whenever she can speak again in however many years, and this way it makes sense that she could keep in touch with Kabru too. They’re used to prisoners, not kids. Being raised in a military context rather than at some orphanage would shape her further.

All of this to say…

She’d already seen the world’s harshness to those who don’t conform in her hometown, but with the elves? Her disdain for those who had formal education at a magic school?

Wouldn’t she become very concerned with proving she is not an animal, proving that she’s smart and skilled in her own right on her own merit, even without schooling. And to do this she nitpicks and nitpicks, because even being pristine isn’t enough to be respected, but at least it’s not giving others reasons to disrespect and dehumanize her. Learning to school her emotions, to scowl as a defense mechanism because anything else makes her vulnerable, because they don’t care about her as a person with feelings, because showing other expressions was dangerous or punished in some way: because it was fit in or don’t fit in and that’s the difference between having your house burnt down and being tolerated, between getting her food or having her questions answered and being yelled at to shut up… Because all her life she’s been surviving in hostile social environments and at the mercy of others, but unlike Kabru she doesn’t become a people pleaser but becomes very self-reliant and wary of socializing.

So she nitpicks and nitpicks and nags, because she’s worried. Because flaws are dangerous. So she has a hard time smiling and laughing, because it’s dangerous to allow yourself to feel safe in being authentic.

It would be nice…

Is my red, red enough? I'm waiting for your teeth at my throat. It’s only good manners. -Stephanie Valente 

[arkhamknightz]

CLOSURE

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary; in which, spencer tries to fix his mistakes

warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, as you can tell by both titles inspired by taylor’s evermore album!

notes: part 2 to tolerate it ! i’m really glad people actually enjoyed tolerate it, for anyone who asked for a part 2 or hoped for one this is for you! :) with help from @adhdannieedison !

A month had passed since that fight with Spencer. The letters had started a week and a half ago. First it started off with flowers at your door, a small note attached. “I’m sorry. I still think about you everyday.” You had been rotating through the clothes you had brought in your suitcase, as well as buying new ones.

You couldn’t go back to that apartment. You were staying with a friend, how Spencer got the address isn’t very surprising (thanks to Penelope) but he had started sending letters along with small gifts to the door every other day.

You regretted the fight with Spencer, well, regret isn’t the right word. You meant everything you said, although it wasn’t a secret your frustration got the best of you. Could you have dealt with that better? Yes, absolutely. But his handwriting of each letter of his name only brought an ache to your chest.

It wasn’t right, the way it all went down. He knows that, you know that. You could sense the hesitation in the letters you had received. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the page, intertwined with the ink.

You were doing better, although you couldn’t bring yourself to write back. You’re sure he knew you were receiving the gifts. Otherwise he would’ve stopped sending them. It cut deep to know him as well as you did. With each letter on the page you could vision him writing them.

He would be sat at his desk at home, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to write them at work. If you inspected the page close enough, you could see very faint droplets. You knew Spencer well enough that he would try his best not to ruin the page, although it seemed like some days he never noticed they were there. His tears somewhat marked on the page.

You knew it was probably over. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was sadness masked as such. But you didn’t need his closure. You didn’t need to know what was running through his head the days he started ignoring you out of fear of what it could’ve been.

The way he looked at you that night, the way he spoke when he told you to stop talking. He spoke like you were some situation that needed to be handled. The way you imagined he would speak at work. You were fine with the spite bubbling in your chest. You were perfectly fine for the first week in the spare room, candles lit as tears rolled down your face with a drink in your hand.

Every time you closed your eyes you could feel his presence. You could feel the longing of his hand on your shoulder, soft kisses on your forehead and whispers of reassurance. It hurt to know him the way you did. It hurt knowing he threw something away so easily after building it for years.

You heard a knock on the door, your friend was out at work and you were sat on the couch filling out a form for work. Knowing what it was, you got up off the couch, setting your computer aside and walked over. You opened the door and there on the mat sat another envelope addressed to you, a small box from your favorite bakery sat under it.

You sighed and picked it up before closing the door and locking it, sitting back down before setting both of them on your lap. You looked into the box and softly smiled, your favorite dessert carefully placed into the box. You opened up the letter and pulled out the paper.

“I know I messed up. I can’t express that enough. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry its taken me so long to properly address it. If i’m being quite honest I don’t know why I did the things I did. More of the matter why I stopped doing certain things. All I know is I miss the way you curled up into me in our shared bed. I haven’t been able to sleep there in the last month. I’m afraid if I sleep in our bed the scent of you would fade away.

I’m sorry for throwing what we had away so easily. I don’t know what caused me to act the way I did, or what caused me to lash out at you when you were only frustrated for all the right reasons. The team was right. It was never about work, but it also wasn’t about you. I can’t pinpoint what caused my behavior but all I know is I’m sorry. And I’ll spend every moment I can trying to show you that I mean that.

This might be a push, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Please, come home soon. I want to work this through. I want to be better for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t when I still had you with me. If you do decide to come home one day by some miracle, I’ll be waiting. I’d wait forever if I had to. I really hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry for the damage I caused, theres not a single day that goes by where I don’t regret what I must’ve put you through.

Yours always, Spencer. x”

You sighed and wiped away the tear that had fell from your eye. You set the letter back into the envelope and put it on the coffee table in front of you. You had gotten a majority of your work done since that night, emotions fueling you to write your papers and get as much work done as you could.

You started going on runs in the park, music playing through your ears as you circled around the area. You really were doing better, the flood of any pain and love you had pushing you to grow and rediscover yourself. You didn’t need his closure, you were just a wrinkle in his life. His guilt was probably what caused him to reach out, but you didn’t need some fake insincere apology from him.

He was apologizing for himself, so he wouldn’t have to live with that guilt. Right? If he really felt bad he would’ve reached out to you sooner. Right? You found yourself making excuses for him again, anger starting to creep its way into your stomach. You loved him, you knew he cared about you. But all you could do was formulate bad intentions in your head.

By the time you ran into Spencer, you were out with your friend at a bar 3 weeks later. You didn’t expect to see him there, nor his entire team. You locked eyes with him from across the room, a tightening ache in your heart as you saw the distinct bags under his eyes, drink in his hand. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of drinking. Although he did it every so often, he barely ever let himself get as drunk as he looked.

It hurt that you could see his tired features from so far away. Guilt started to slowly rise in your chest before you turned around and downed your drink. “Woah slow down there. What’s up?” You looked over at your friend. “He’s here. With his entire team.” Her eyes widened and she turned around to look around the bar, low and behold there she saw Spencer sitting at a table with a group of people.

“Do not turn around he’s walking- okay well stumbling this way.” You shut your eyes tightly as you heard him call out your name. You looked over at your friend who smiled in sympathy and walked away to go get a new drink. Your breath hitched as he stopped on the other side of you. “Hey.”

You could hear the crack of his voice, you missed the way he spoke to you at night, both of you laying in bed while you whispered sweet nothings to each-other. You turned around and smiled sadly. “Hey Spence” you saw him tear up at the nickname and you quickly panicked. “Hey hey, don’t cry please don’t cry.” He sniffled. “I missed you. I’m so so sorry.” A tear rolled down his cheek, your facial expression now mirroring his.

You could feel any anger you had towards him bubble away as you pulled him into a hug, his body shook against yours as he settled his head into your neck. Cracks in his voice muffled by your hair as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so so badly. I’ve missed you so much I’m sorry I know you hate m-“ you quickly cut him off. “I’m still upset yes but I don’t hate you.”

You pulled away looking at him, his eyes red and puffy brimmed with tears. “I could never hate you.” You reached up to wipe away his tears, thumb brushing against his cheek which only made him cry harder. Normally, you probably would feel embarrassed, you were both crying in the middle of the bar, but all you could focus on was him.

“I’m gonna take you home okay? We can talk about this tomorrow. You need to sleep.” He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue. You looked over at his team, who all looked away quickly, their eyes darting around the room pretending they weren’t watching. You softly chuckled and made eye contact with Derek before mouthing you were gonna take him home.

He nodded and you locked hands with Spencer before letting your friend know you were taking him home. She nodded and told you to stay safe before you walked out. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy, eyes red with tears while he looked down, sniffles coming from him.

You waved down a taxi before getting him inside, sitting beside him. You gave them the address to your old apartment and you sat in silence. The only noise coming from the radio, the streets and his small sniffles. After being dropped off, you reached out and he gave you his keys, you opened the door and your heart broke at the state of the apartment. Books were thrown out onto the floor, the kitchen seemingly untouched, you took a look at the couch and saw a thin blanket sprawled out, pillow thrown onto the floor.

You sighed and looked at Spencer who was already looking at you, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.” You let out a small laugh, wiping away his tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get you to bed yeah?” He nodded and walked through the apartment with you. You cleaned up while he got changed in your bedroom, putting away the books and folding up the blanket on the couch.

You grabbed his pillow and walked into your room. Spencer was staring at your side of the bed and you placed his pillow back in its spot and sat on the edge of the bed. He took the hint and sat right next to you. You looked down and picked at your nails, his hand grasping yours to stop you. “Don’t do that.” He held your hand and now you were the one crying.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, as if speaking any louder would break you. “I know.” You both sat in silence for a little, small sniffles echoing throughout the room. “You should get some sleep Spencer.” He nodded and you got up, allowing him to lay down. You walked into the closet and changed into comfier clothes before walking into the bathroom and washing your face.

You came back out and laid next to him. His arm wrapping around your waist like it used to. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, fitting like a missing puzzle piece. You were doing fine without him. But you knew what was missing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live the rest of your life the same without him there. His arms felt like home, his kisses like rays of sunshine hitting your face, his hugs like being enveloped by a warm blanket.

You hadn’t been able to sleep well, missing the way you felt safe while you were asleep with him. Now whenever you slept you kept a small light on, but it hardly even came close to fulfilling the security you longed for. You smiled softly as he quickly fell asleep, his arms unconsciously starting to tighten around you.

The next morning you woke up before Spencer. You got up and walked into the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some painkillers. You knew he hated taking them, preferring to push through it. But after last night you knew he would need it. You heard quick shuffling and your bedroom door swing open, you turned around and he had tears in his eyes, before he finally settled on your figure left in the kitchen.

This only seemed to make it worse. He let out a choked sob as you looked at him. “Hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” You joked, he cracked a smile and shook his head. “Never.” You handed him the cup of water and he drank it, taking the small pill reluctantly.

After a few minutes you both sat on the couch. You had been dreading this conversation since you saw him at the bar last night. “I know I’ve said sorry, but I want to prove that to you. I want to show you I mean it wholeheartedly. Pushing you away the way that I did was inexcusable. So I’m not gonna try to come up with one. But I know it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I know you deserve better than someone who could do something like that to you.”

You nodded. “I know I deserved better.” His eyes looked into his lap, his hands fiddling with each-other. “But I didn’t want better. I wanted you Spencer. I knew the difficulty of your job, I knew the relationship wouldn’t be perfect all the time. That I was perfectly okay with. What I didn’t appreciate was you pushing me away, the comments you had started making at me, the way you told me to stop talking when I was angry like I had no right to be.”

He nodded in understanding as you continued, “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you Spencer. So it hurt when you pushed me away and made no effort to show you cared in the slightest. I was trying my best and it seemed like it wasn’t enough for you. So I walked away because I knew I wasn’t gonna let myself go through that.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I know saying that over and over doesn’t do anything if I don’t prove myself that I mean it. I want to be better this time. And I know that’s gonna take a lot and that’s something I’m more than willing to do. If I have to wait a year for you to fully forgive me I will in a heartbeat. Please. Just let me show you I’ve changed? That I want this to work?”

You nodded and he smiled softly before silently asking to hug you. You pulled him in and you sat in his arms, basking in the warmth and the way he pulled you closer to his chest if that was even humanly possible. You were doing fine without him. But you knew you would never be complete with him beside you.

note: HI i hope this ending is satisfying for everyone. i know i seemingly rushed through this but ideas were flowing! my requests are open for anyone who wants to send in some things, i mostly write song fics, since i find them easiest and can produce them the quickest. but im open to all requests! i have a list of people i write for in my pinned, so please don’t be afraid to send something in! :)

tag list; @sebastiansstanswhore @deadunicorn159 @adhdannieedison

[leclercvsx]

DILF | SMAU

sebastian vettel

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: y/n is dating Seb who is 15 years older than her but despite the age gap theyre just like any other couple

warnings: age gap (?)

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 47,628 others

yourusername: in my lover era 🫶

TAGGED: sebastianvettel

sebastianvettel: i love you❤️

yourusername: ugh i love you too😭❤️

user: girlie isn’t he old enough to be your dad😨

landonorris: i took the last photo btw

yourusername: we know🙄

user: am i the only one that find this weird ???

user: definitely not the only one

friendusername: my fav couple😔

yourusername: love you😘😘

user: he’s literally almost DOUBLE her age wtf

—

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 815k others

sebastianvettel: great time seeing everyone again 🙏🏼

TAGGED: lewishamilton, yourusername

lewishamilton: loved seeing you mate, your girlfriends lovely by the way💙

sebastianvettel: she’s the best❤️

yourusername: making me blush and shi☺️

user: he’s basically dating a child

user: nah cos this is still so weird

user: im actually so grossed out rn

user: girl me too

user: he should be with someone his own age, not someone that’s just hit puberty

user: a bit predatory if u ask me

—

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton and 25,184 others

yourusername: in a world of boys he’s a gentlemen ❤️

TAGGED: sebastianvettel

user: “gentlemen” it’s because he’s almost double your age babe

sebastianvettel: the love of my life❤️

yourusername: i will cry

sebastianvettel: please don’t, love

user: she’s probably with him for his money and fame tbh

friendusername: i don’t think she’d tolerate all this nasty ass behaviour if she was with him for his money or fame. leave them alone.🙄

liked by sebastianvettel and yourusername

user: i actually think they’re super cute😭

user: no cos me too like i want what they have

lewishamilton: you guys really are the cutest

yourusername: 😛

—

y/n

sebastian

seb❤️

what’s wrong? you never call me by my full name

y/n

i think we should break up:/

seb❤️

what the hell are you on about? i don’t think we should break up.

where’s all this coming from?

y/n

everyone’s calling you a freak for being with a “child” and saying that you’re too old for me or that you’re old enough to be my dad and i don’t want anyone to continue hating on you. so as much as i love you and hate myself for doing this, i think it’s for the best.

seb❤️

no.

i won’t let you break up with me due to jealous children on the internet, Y/n. i love you and i do not care about anyone else’s opinions.

So what if we have an age gap? we’re both legal, mature adults who can decide who we want to date.

i’ll sort this all out, my love. don’t worry❤️

—

sebastianvettel

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 1,628,273 others

sebastianvettel: Y/n and i have been dating for the past year and a half, yes we started dating when she was 19 (4 days before she was 20) and i had just turned 34 but we both discussed this for a while. We’re both legal, consenting, mature adults and choose to date each-other because we love eachother. There is nothing wrong with our relationship. If you find out relationship weird, then YOU are the problem (y/n taught me how to say that.)

Y/n is the love of my life and i don’t ever want that to change. Thanks to some people online, you have made my lovely, wonderful and beautiful girlfriend try to break up with me because she doesn’t want me getting hated on. We’re still very much together and will be for the foreseeable future.

I love you, Y/n. Ignore the jealous, immature children❤️

TAGGED: yourusername

yourusername: sobbing on my floor right now. i love you so so much😭❤️

sebastianvettel: don’t cry, my love.

lewishamilton: ignore the immature people, they don’t know what they’re talking about.

liked by yourusername

user: i actually feel really bad now

user: proud to say i’ve always been a y/nseb shipper btw

landonorris: i would say mother and father but y/n is younger than me so😔

yourusername: you aren’t helping this situation, Lando.

landonorris: it was a JOKE. you know i love you both really🙏🏼🙏🏼

liked by sebastianvettel

——————————

this is quite a short one cos i ran out of ideas lol, but anyway i hope you all enjoy!

this was either gonna be for carlos, daniel or seb but i chose seb cos he’s my fav person ever😛

AND YES I KNOW THE AGE GAP IS A LITTLE EXTREME BUT THIS IS ALL FICTION !!!

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN 🫶

masterlist | request

[the-lambda-archives-ai]

Statement of : Gordon Martinez Freeman, 30 year old MIT graduate,Regarding a peculiar video game he’d found.

Recorded direct from subject, May 16, 200-

Statement begins.

Pt 1 > here

ABOUT 👇

Hello! I am the author of this AU, you can find my main at @inkzectz , for more meta questions about this AU, or for general comments about it, please go there.

What is the AU about?

LA : AI is a crossover AU of sorts, in the simplest way put, it’s TMA but with HLVRAI characters, TMA stuff happens but altered to fit the general HLVRAI narrative, and with my own changes, headcanons, etc. added

I will be updating/editing this post as I progress.

Will it have spoilers?

Disclaimer!!

The AU will have a lot of the original themes of hlvrai and more so TMA, more so, horror themes, this will include gore, body horror, worms, decomposition, cult themes, psychological horror, arachnophobia,flashing imagery, etc.

(Will update as I go on)

I also feel it is important to mention this is the first time I have ever made a ask blog/ web comic/ published a story online, I will make mistakes, please bare with me as I am trying to figure things out.

English is not my first language, I do my best to grammar check and write well, but at the end of the day I will also be making mistakes.

Please be patient with me.

This au is a passion project of mine that I am doing on my free time because I want to, it is important to remember as a reader, I do not owe you anything.

It is best if you’ve seen it but as of writing it right now (early ep 4) there aren’t any spoilers. Once I am a little further ahead then you may want to listen to it.

Yes, not a lot, but vague/mild spoilers about how the world works, plot points, and character.

Again the spoilers will be vague and mild at worst, as it progresses I would recommend listening to tma, but it’s sort of like how while half life knowledge is helpful in hlvrai it isn’t exactly necessary to enjoy hlvrai bc it’s different enough from it to not really matter (?) I hope that makes sense.

Asks rules

- No telling [ player ] exactly what happens ex : “omg [ player ] when you weren’t looking [ npc ] said this very important thing that is supposed to be kept secret for lore reasons”

- Please avoid asks like “tell this character they’re pretty” while I appreciate the compliment, I am trying to write a story and want to keep things as on topic as possible. Instead tell me on my main if you like the art, I’ll probably reply with a doodle or something, just not on here.

- Less so of a rule but more so of a general statement, I will be avoiding asks that either are too close to what happens or if answering would mean progressing the story too quickly, there’s a lot I want to happen and I want time to do it all.

- Another one that’s less of a rule and more of a general thing, if I don’t like what you said I won’t be answering.

- I also sometimes just don’t know how to answer some things.

- Please be respectful of the ships I choose to include and don't force your own, ship wars and such will not be tolerated.

- Please be respectful of others and do not spoil anything, not everyone has listened to TMA and knows it's themes.

I will not be answering everything, I cannot always get to every message so please be respectful of that.

Select character

Character abouts! [ Will be updating as I continue to work on the story ]

[ select ] > Mr. Freeman

> Gordon Martinez ‘Martini’ Freeman

30 y.o . 6’0 . 230lb . Romani / Puertorican . male [ he/him ] . bisexual

[ PLAYER ]

> Lives in Seattle, MIT graduate, left Black Mesa, works as a librarian IRL but also makes money via streaming video games occasionally, in real time it is 2018.

> Believes in the paranormal out of fear but tries to rationalize out of denial, he will never admit something is supernatural and will jump through hoops to rationalize even if deep down he does believe.

> Has a son named Joshua Medrano Freeman, who is 6 years old, Gordon and his old partner met in college but split up before Joshua was born, they remain civil but are nothing more to each other than Joshua’s other parent.

> Gordon rents an apartment with 3 rooms, his own room, Joshua’s room, and a third that used to be a guest room but he has so little visitors he’s just chosen to revamp it into a gaming room.

> Gordon works primarily in a library for now as he’s looking for a better job.

> Gordon often wears hoodies, sweaters, t-shirts, crew necks, and any general outfit one would wear at home, long curly hair that is beginning to grey due to stress, unkempt goatee, and almost always wears green tinted glasses [ he doesn’t need glasses he just thinks they’re cool ]

> His hair is usually pulled back in a ponytail but can also be found in a bun or just down.

< [ select ] > Mr. Coolatta

> Thomas ‘Tommy’ Coolatta, primary researcher, and technical head of the institute.

39 y.o . 6’7 . 190lb . Chinese/filipino . Male [ he/him ] . ???

[ NPC ]

> His father owns the Lambda institute and he grew up in it, he officially started working in the archives when he was 24, and of all the employees in the entire institute he has worked there the longest.

> No one knows who his father really is, Tommy being the only one who’s ever actually seen / spoken to him, his father is the real head of the institute but gives most his orders through Tommy, so Tommy is also technically the head as well.

> Not much is actually known about him, besides his father he doesn’t appear to have any other family, nor does he ever speak of his personal life much.

> Tommy primarily works as an archival assistant, specifically in research, he is the one who will verify details regarding statements or do further investigations into aspects of the statements.

> Tommy is quite the colorful character, often wearing colorful clothing and accessories, he seems to think doing so brings some cheer into an otherwise boring environment, he often wears patterned polo shirts, cheap company bracelets, pins, lanyards, pant chains, but is never without his signature multicolor propeller hat.

[weird-addiction]

Hai! It's me again. I read one and the same and I was FLOORED!! Could you do a part two when they're both grown up and it's the dinner scene (you know the one). I love to see what you put together ❤️

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same Part 2

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: The dinner scene from Ep 8, calling others bastards, mentions of missing eyes, some book canon, typical violence

A/N: sorry it has been so long ಥ_ಥ I wrote this a while back but forgot to post. Here it is now. Happy Season 2!

It has been 16 years since the days that the single-eyed princes had claimed their dragons and had made it known to the people of Westeros now that they were the greatest threat to the realm, using that fear to make sure that no one else crossed them ever again. 

Now, the rightful queen had come back to defend her son’s claim to Driftmark. Aemond and Y/n were out in the training yard when they arrived. Aemond was busy sparring with Ser Criston, Y/n was the one that spotted them both. And from the looks of it, they saw him as well, however, there was almost immediate fear in their eyes. 

No one in Westeros could deny that it was uneasy to look at the two single-eyed princes, especially the younger of the two. As the younger, he would lash out more easily as he took the pleasure of seeing other cower in fear in front of him. Even their own elder brother Aegon could say the same about him. As Y/n was normally the one to slap him awake when he got blackout drunk.

Within the throne room of the Red Keep, both sides of the family stood on opposite sides of the room, the separation was obvious to anyone who had sense. Everyone but the king that was. 

Vaemond and Viserys were having a stand off at the moment as they argued over who should get the claim to Driftmark. Vaemond eventually had enough as he turned to Rhaenyra and her family, he yelled loudly as he spoke of his disgust that her sons were not his nephews.

“Her children…are BASTARDS!” He yelled, his body language telling that this was all genuine and none of it was fake. 

“And she is…a whore.” He was smiling at the end of his sentence, like he knew he had nothing left to lose. 

“I mean…we don’t really know, do we? Princess Rhaenys has black hair soo…” Y/n whispers to his twin, Aemond leaned over smiling as he responded. 

“But it is still a possibility isn’t it?” Aemond ruled out, to which his twin nodded. 

They turned back to the drama at hand, and as of the same second, Daemon had cut off the top half of Vaemond’s head; just above where his tongue was. 

Aemond had gone into a defensive stance as almost to shield his twin, Y/n was holding Helaena in his arms as she had her hands over her ears. He rubbed her back slowly, offering what comfort he could in that moment. 

The trial was soon over and nightfall came fast, and by the king’s request, both sides of the family were to have supper together. Aemond and Y/n were both quite hesitant to attend, as they were known to start conflicts even if slightly offended or pissed off. Before their father had arrived, the three sons stood off to the side as they had a random conversation. More or so it was Aegon telling them both to drink more.

“You both do not drink enough.” Aegon says. 

“You drink more than a Braavosi seahorse.” Aemond retorts. His twin let out a laugh.

“I drink just the right amount.” Aegon responds, one could even hear the eye roll on his voice.

“Right. Tell me that next time when I have to dump cold water on your head to wake you up.” Y/n says, amused by the eldest. 

“You just have a high tolerance. The most you have downed is three cups.” 

“Don’t compare me to you, brother. At least tonight, you have a reason to get drunk. It seems we all do.” Y/n looked back to the long dinner table, their mother and half-sister were not talking. Tensions were already rising and the dinner had not even started. 

“The noose is tied and they expect us to break bread.” Aemond says, to which, Y/n had to hold onto his arm to calm him down a bit.

“You can fight later. At least, when they offend you. Have a reason at least.” Y/n spoke, clearly also having thoughts of needing to let off some steam.

The dinner soon started and for the first while, everything was fine at the beginning as the music made it so the atmosphere was less tense. Everyone was at ease and talking with a smile on their face. 

Aemond sat at one end of the table, Y/n was to his right, sitting just next to Helaena. They were exchanging words every once in a while as the younger twin was speaking with his sister, Jace would also occasionally jump in the conversation. In which, Y/n was happy that he did…in his way. 

Y/n actually had food on his plate that he was eating, his twin however, was just sitting there. Plus, Aemond was sitting sideways and only looking at his younger twin only, and he sat incredibly still; like a statue he was. Y/n ignored it as he continued to eat, and talking with his sister of course. This was only a matter of moments before the dinner went wrong.  

A cooked pig was placed down right in front of Aemond, Y/n gave him a side glance that basically told him “I know what you are thinking” from his eye. Aemond tipped his head downwards for a second as to almost not acknowledge it, but then he looked to the person across the table from him. 

Lucerys had a smile on his face, and in this case, well, it was almost enough to set Aemond off; he was just hiding it quite well. Aemond knew, he turned his head just enough to see Luke from across the table, and the moment he turned his nephew let out a laugh. 

Which, Aemond took immediate offense to. 

Slamming his fist down onto the table, loud enough that the entire room quieted down and looked at him. He reached for his goblet and stood up, his figure now probably towering over his nephews at this rate. The look in his remaining eye was dilated to some degree to make it show that he was wanting to go after his nephews for a while now. 

“A final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace. Luke. And Joffery.” He took a breath. 

Aegon and Y/n both saw this and raised their cups as well, Aegon just looked like he wanted something interesting to happen. Y/n was just wanting to have some fun, in the “beating someone for no reason” kind of way. 

“Each of them, handsome, wise…” Y/n looked to his twin, giving him the nod of approval. Aemond smirked slightly as he said the final word. 

“Strong.”

“Aemond.” Alicent said in a hurry, almost wanting him to stop. 

“Let us drain our cups, to these three strong boys.” Aemond turned to Jace, still holding his cup. Y/n also stood up, following in his twin’s steps.

“I dare you say that again.” Jace challenged.

“Why. Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond challenged back.

This is when things got heated. Aemond and Jace approached each other, Jace, when he was close enough to his uncle, punched him right in the face with his closed fist. But Aemond barely had a reaction to this. Luke on the other hand was pinned to the table by Aegon, Y/n watched from behind his twin as he was just amused from all of this. 

When Aemond recovered from his hit, he pushed Jace down to the ground with ease. Y/n then walked over and stood in front of his twin, as he saw their uncle Daemon moving closer to them. Y/n knew his twin had a weird fascination with their uncle, often in their youth he would find Aemond ranting to him on how he wanted to be just like him. But now, Y/n knew he could not underestimate Daemon as he was known as “The Rogue Prince” for a reason. 

Alicent pulled Aemond aside as she began to lecture him. Though, he pulled his arm away as he walked back to where he was.

“I was merely expressing how proud I was of my family, mother. Hmm. But it seems our nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” Aemond stood next to Y/n, urging him to add in on it. And indeed he did. 

“It seems our nephews have much to learn. Being proud of their heritage may be a good start.” Y/n added, he just wanted to see what would happen.

Jace was about to pounce like an animal onto his uncles, but Daemon stepped in and that was enough to get him to back off. Daemon then turned to look at his two nephews who held his gaze with competition. Aemond spared his twin a glance before the two agreed indirectly and left the dining hall.

As they walked off, the younger of the two let out a laugh. In which, Aemond, of course heard clearly. “What is so funny.”

“You are becoming worse than me. One day, your temper and actions will get us in big trouble.” Y/n remarked.

“Then we shall see what the future may bring us when that happens, won’t we.”

“Aemond. By the hells, please don’t actually do something you’ll regret. I do not want to pick up the pieces.”

[promptthebear]

Could you do a 🐰 Drabble with Peter for 27?? Or anyone really, I just think that it needs to get out in something thank youu

Below the Belt

Tormund Giantsbane x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Tormund is in love with you. It isn’t reciprocated, and a little wager goes horribly wrong.

CW: Swearing. Tormund behaving like a little boy with a crush, think pulling pigtails for attention. Kind of enemies to lovers dynamics but not quite. Mild implications that the reader has been abused. 2nd person, reader is referred to as "you"

A/N: I’m baaaaaaaccckk! This is my first time writing for Tormund so pls be nice.

Tormund was bored, which meant he had gone from being a tolerable pest to the biggest, loudest nuisance in all the Seven Kingdoms. Even worse, he had somehow used the ale soaked lump he called a brain to convince himself that he was besotted with you. And so, since Brienne had found you wandering through the ass end of the North and started bringing you back to your half brother on the Wall you hadn’t known a moment’s peace.

“Can’t you make him shut up?” you begged the lady knight one evening, not even bothering to hide your desperation. You’d been through a lot these last few months, far too much to have stupid stories about she-bears and giant’s tits be the thing that finally broke you.

“Trust me, my Lady,” Brienne replied, not even glancing up from where her whetstone slid across the edge of her blade “If I knew how, I would’ve done so the moment I met him.”

You glanced over your shoulder to shoot Tormund a withering look. As though he knew he was being discussed, the giant Wildling met your glare with a broad smile and a wink. You scoffed, tugged your cloak tighter around your shoulders and stared into the meagre flames of your small campfire. Perhaps if you looked at it long enough and wished hard enough, it would suddenly blossom into a full hearth complete with a pot of mulled wine and aurocs on a spit. And perhaps, dragons would live again and every last one of the Lannisters would drop dead by morning.

“Y’cold, beauty?”

The first time you’d heard Tormund address someone as such, it had been Brienne. However, when she’d shoved the tip of her sword against the hollow of his throat and told him she’d forsake her honor without hesitation should he even think about calling her that again, he’d awarded the title to you. You’d also threatened his life in increasingly creative ways whenever he did so, but unfortunately your words didn’t have the same impact as Brienne’s. Instead, they only seemed to spur the stupid man on and multiply his interest in you tenfold.

“No,” you shot back, your tone just as icy as your frozen toes. “Not in the least.”

“Then why are you shivering?” Tormund asked, eyes gleaming “A delicate little southron blossom like you isn’t meant to sit in the snow.”

“I’m from the bloody North, Tormund. How many times need I tell you?!”

The giant made a rude noise in response, blowing air between his lips and shaking his head.

“No, girl. I’m from the North. The Real North. You Winterfell lot and your ilk are nothing more than a lot of Southern twats who wandered too far up the coast and were too busy freezing your arses off to bother going back.”

“Lady-” this came from Podrick, who usually was too shy to say much to you but even he could recognize that Tormund had taken things a step too far. You were on your feet and bearing down on the Wilding before you even really understood what was happening.

“How dare you?! How dare YOU?! I am a Stark. My ancestors were the Kings of Winter. My father, his grandfather and his great grandfather were all Wardens of the North. We are descended from the First of Men, we drove the Andals out of Westeros and brought Kings to their knees. We have endured for hundreds of years, and thrived where lesser men have withered. Our crypts go as far back as-”

As quickly as your tirade began, it stopped with the faint sound of your teeth clicking as your jaw snapped shut. Echoes of your enraged speech bounced around the clearing, your righteous anger drifting up into the bare branches of the skeleton trees and into the black night sky beyond. Your cheeks still burned hot with ire and your chest heaved, your breaths coming in shaky huffs while your hands fisted and tangled around handfuls of your skirts. Were it not for the love you bore your late mother, you would have reached out and shook Tormund’s neck until it snapped. Because even after the earful he’d just gotten, the fucking fool was laughing at you.

Not just a little chuckle, either. Tormund’s head was tossed back against his shoulders, his mouth open wide while tears streamed from his eyes, laughing as though he would never stop. The flush on your cheeks quickly turned from one of anger to one of embarrassment. Of course. You had fallen right in to his trap. Tormund had wanted you to become angry with him, he had poked and prodded at you the same way a bear might be baited at a feast. The intent was the same too. He was looking for amusement. Gods, how you wanted to kill him.

Eventually, the Widling man managed to quiet himself down to the point where he could speak in between a few sparse chortles though it took several deep breaths and even then, his shoulders still shook with lingering mirth.

“Well,” he said, dabbing at his eyes with the edge of his cloak “You certainly sound like a Northerner, and you’ve shown me that pretty hair of yours is for more than just good looks. But, I’m afraid you’ll always be a little Southern princess to me. Unless…”

While you sported your father’s grey eyes and your mother’s red curls, you hadn’t inherited their stoicism or their tact. You were far too often entirely bound to the whims of your temper, especially when someone waved a challenge so obviously right beneath your nose. The clever thing would have been to walk away and leave Tormund stewing for the night, but the temptation to put him in his place was far too strong.

“Unless what, you blithering idiot?”

Tormund grinned, his blue eyes turning soft as though you were cooing sweet nothings rather than barking insults. He then rose to his feet and strode over to you, his long legs closing the distance in a matter of seconds. You’d expected him to at least have enough sense to stand at arm’s length from you, but that was far too much to demand of his simple intellect. No, Tormund didn’t stop until he was practically standing on top of you, so close you could feel his breath ghosting across the crown of your head and smell the dampness on his cloak.

The sound of a sword unsheathing made you glance quickly over your shoulder, where you saw Brienne now standing with her weapon drawn. You gave a subtle shake of your head, to which she responded with an equally short nod though you noticed she didn’t remove her hand from her hilt either. You stole a brief look at Podrick as well, though the young squire had little more to offer you than a half hearted shrug.

Grumbling under your breath, you turned back to face Tormund. The sudden closeness now meant that you could no longer look the man in the eye without craning your neck upwards or taking a few steps back. Not wanting to seem intimidated by his nonsense, you chose the former and fixed the Wildling with a searing gaze. Tormund chuckled in response, the sound as rich and dark as Dornish wine. A unwanted, tingling warmth began to grow in your belly but you quickly squashed it with a hard bite to the inside of your cheek.

“Alright little one,” the giant said so softly he was nearly whispering “You want to be a real Northerner? Then show me. Show me you’re more than just talk, and I’ll believe you.”

You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t break from his stare. It felt as though his deep, ocean blue eyes were boring right in to the depths of your soul.

“How?”

Movement at Tormund’s hip made you flinch involuntarily, which caused his brow to crease in concern. However, when you didn’t react further he pushed aside his cloak and pulled out a stone knife with a bone handle. You stared at the flint blade, watching the way glinted in the faint firelight.

“If you can take this from me in the next minute or so, then I’ll believe you’re truly a Northerner…” he paused and drew in a sharp breath “And, I’ll be yours. Mind, body and soul, from now until my dying breath.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Is that it? Truly? You’re betting your freedom on whether or not I can take your poxy knife? Tell me Tormund, are all Wildlings this stupid or are you the exception?”

You couldn’t help but relish the way the ever present grin fell from the giant man’s face. Clearly, his little proposition hadn’t garnered the reaction he’d been hoping for.

“I’m exceptional in more ways then you know, beauty.” He replied, quickly regaining his composure and leering openly at you “Though perhaps it isn’t quite fair to pit such a sweet little thing against a mighty warrior such as-”

Whatever Tormund was going to say next would forever remain a mystery. Instead, all that could be heard was a faint, guttural sort of choking sound. Tormund quite looked like he was choking too. His pale skin had turned almost as red as his hair, while his mouth hung open in a silent gasp and his wide eyes stared blindly down at the snowy ground.

“How?” he sputtered, bent double with his hands clutched over his loins.

“Easy,” you replied, tossing his knife from your right hand to your left “I have two older brothers. Three, if you count that traitorous Greyjoy fucker. When needs must, I know where to hit.”

Tormund drew in another deep breath, which was followed by a series of coughs and a few strangled laughs. For some reason, this made you grin all the wider. Even after taking a full on strike to the bollocks, Tormund could still find a reason to laugh.

“Clearly, I underestimated you girl.”

“Clearly.”

You gently placed the tip of the knife beneath Tormund’s chin, slowly tilting his face upwards so he was looking you in the eye. He looked at you as though he had just discovered his own personal goddess, and he was about to become your most devoted worshiper. The tingling warmth erupted in your gut again, though this time you didn’t try to stop it.

“Do you yield?” you asked, keeping your voice low so only Tormund could hear you. He nodded as much as the knife would allow, and swallowed hard before answering.

“Yes.” came the reply.

“And do you promise not to call me a southerner anymore?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” you said, giving Tormund’s cheek a rough pat before straightening and turning round to face Podrick and Brienne. The young squire was gawping at you with renewed fear in his eyes, while Brienne was grinning at you from ear to ear. It was the happiest you’d seen her in months.

“Will one of you please see to him?” you asked, your voice practically dripping honey “It would be a shame if our journey was delayed because Tormund was too sore to sit a saddle.”

As you began to walk away, snow faintly crunching under your boots, you saw Podrick dart past from the corner of your eye. He immediately went to Tormund, bending at the waist so he could better assess the Wilding for damage.

“Are you alright…Sir?” you heard him say hesitantly

“Oh look,” came Tormund’s reply, sounding far too pleased for someone in his condition “My will to live. It’s gone.”

[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 90k to 100k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here and between 100k and 125k here.

Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror [98k]

The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

A Case of You by @epitomereally [97k]

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it​ [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

‘You’re a wizard, Harry’ is easier to hear from a half-giant when you’re eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you’re seventeen and late for work.

How I Met Your Father by @dracogotgame [95k]

Harry sits his kids down and tells them a story. A very long story. 

How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di [93k]

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he’s a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998’s 15th reunion isn’t welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives.

Light up the Night by Saras_Girl [98k]

This year, despite his better judgement, Harry’s love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.

Season of the Spirit by Saras_Girl [95k]

It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

Tempus Fugit by Poison Pen [90k+]

A monumental cock-up in Potions means that Harry and Draco have more to contend with than mutual enmity. A journey of discovery, self-reflection and love.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid [99k]

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[phoenixyfriend]

Entry of the Gladiators

Remember my Fake Sith AU? Yeah, so I got around to writing it.

I started writing this around a year ago, planning to finish and post for an event. I never finished. So. Here's what I have so far, and let's hope I can get around to finishing it at some point lmao.

The year is 7939 CRC, and Obi-Wan is one-hundred percent not moonlighting as a Sith Lord with a drawling accent and a linen suit. And Anakin surely isn't pretending to be his unhinged Sith second. And Ahsoka definitely isn't actually a vigilante. And Cody absolutely isn't enjoying the chance to manage an entire set of organized crime rings. And Rex certainly isn't seducing the half-mad head priestess of an evil cult. Totally.

Chapter 1: Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)

Fun fact: I went to upload the first chapter of this fic, which I started writing a year ago, and I forgot I had a title for the chapter, so I just slapped something together to put into the chapter title slot.

Then I went back to my planning document and it's the same damn chapter title.

I am very predictable.

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Anakin wakes up with a pounding headache. This is, against all wishes, a very familiar feeling for him. Unfortunately, it has almost never been a result of something fun, like alcohol. He’s much more likely to wake up drugged and chained by his enemies or recovering from grievous injuries than, say, boozing up.

Hondo incident notwithstanding, of course.

(Besides, Obi-Wan got drunk too. That makes it his fault.)

As he catalogues his remaining fingers and extremities past the pain in his skull, he hears others shuffling nearby. The Force isn’t warning him at all, so they’re probably friendlies.

There’s a quiet groan a few feet away, high-pitched, that is almost definitely Ahsoka.

When he sits up, it’s to more pain and the ugly little realization that Ahsoka must also be in pain.

Obi-Wan’s voice cuts in. “What did you do, Anakin?”

“Nothing!” Anakin protests, his own voice loud enough to set his headache off. He runs through his most recent memories in hopes of uncovering actual wrongdoing. He doesn’t seem to actually have any memories past entering the possibly-Sith-in-origin temple, though. That’s… a bad sign, in part because they are now outdoors and looking at a completely different sky. “You went into the sketchy temple, too. I don’t remember doing anything that could have knocked us all out, especially not knocked us out and transported us to what’s probably a different planet.”

“Sky’s orange,” Ahsoka notes, getting unsteadily to her feet. There’s a moment where it looks like she’s about to fall, but Rex is closer than Anakin, and reacts fast enough to steady her.

Anakin finally gets a full look around. His master, his padawan, his captain, and Commander Cody, who isn’t Anakin’s in any way, except as a friend, but that’s not an exclusive group, because ‘his friend’ could mean a lot of—

He’s getting distracted.

“If we’re lucky…” Obi-Wan says, stretching his back with an awful cracking noise. He eyes the sky with distaste. “If we’re lucky, the cloud cover will dissipate and let us see the constellations when night falls. We can figure out where we are then.”

“Anticipating hostility from locals, sir?” Cody prompts

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Don’t want to hedge our bets on there being locals. We aren’t where we were, and we aren’t in another temple, either. Most planets in the galaxy aren’t actually inhabited by sapient species…”

“But that’s mostly because most of them don’t have breathable air, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asks. Anakin pats her between the montrals, almost like Obi-Wan used to ruffle his hair when he was this small. Well, smaller. Ahsoka at fifteen tolerates this much better than Anakin at the same age.

Ahsoka at fifteen is, however, the same height as Anakin at thirteen, when Obi-Wan was still ruffling his hair.

“You’re right, Ahsoka. Since this planet does have breathable air and some vegetation, the chances of sapient habitation are relatively high,” Obi-Wan agrees. “So, we’ll see how it goes. If we can find civilization that isn’t hostile to us, we might get off by nightfall.”

Anakin has a feeling that’s a bit too optimistic.

(Continue on AO3)

[sarawoweeee]

Hi I’m sorry if this isn’t specific enough but can we get a little fic abt Jesus hair era Reid in an enemies to lovers kinda fic with the reader?

"Don't be a jerk."

YESS OFC I LOVE LONG HAIR SPENCER!!!!!! Thank you so much for the support on the last chapter I really appreciate it!!! If you have any requests, questions, or advice pls let me know <33

(Also couldn't rlly find a good gif of Jesus Reid oops sorry)

Your first case in the field! The team is getting closer to you, and everyone really likes you except Spencer. Next chapter is going to be the actual case lol

Warnings: none

Wc:893

After my first day, I couldn't sleep. I thought about Spencer and thought of every possibility of why he could hate me. The next morning, I woke up early, a little too early, the birds just waking up, softly singing. I get up from bed groggily, walking to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, washing my hair and body. I then spend extra time on my appearance, doing my hair, makeup, and picking out a nice outfit. I finally leave and have enough time to drop by my favorite coffee shop.

I walk through the door, the little bell gently ringing. It was pretty much empty this morning except for the few old ladies and soccer moms. I order an iced latte and sit down to wait, cracking open my new novel.

The little bell dings, and I look to see who walks through the door.

My breath catches in my throat when I see him. It's Reid. I try and act casually, continuing to read my novel.

"Y/n..?. Reid looks back at me and grabs my coffee, walking over to my table.

"Stalking me I see." He grumbles.

"I was here first," I grab my drink from him as he sits down across from me. "Thanks." I put my book down onto the table, facing me, and take a sip from the coffee.

"What book..?" He asks, not making eye contact. I turn the book around towards him.

"Ah, Inferno by Dante Alighieri. I remember reading that a couple of years ago." He looks down at the cuffs of his shirt and rolls them to above his elbow.

I slightly nod, mildly confused about why he's talking to me, kind of hoping he would've just pretended to ignore me and go about his day. adjust in my seat and fix my hair. I lean on the table, resting my head on my hands.

"Why don't you like me?" I asked, but it came out more like a statement than a question, monotone.

He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He runs his hands through his long hair (bob is fye ❤️). He opens his mouth to say something.

"Spencer..?" The barista calls out. He takes the opportunity to get out of the situation, grabbing his coffee and walking out the door.

I sigh, starting to hate this little game, and it's barely started. I finish my coffee and make my way back to the BAU.

I walk into the office and notice everyone is gone, then I hear muffled conversation from the conference room. Shit.

I knock on the door and walk in. The team turns their head towards me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

"Sorry.." I say softly. JJ clears her throat.

"Its alright, y/n, we didn't start without you." She smiles and I smile back at her.

"Okay," she continues. "A small suburban town called Willowbrook, two women have been kidnapped and found murdered a week and a half after their capture. Law enforcement can't find any connections in the victims, and we need to be there soon. The time period is almost up, and another body should be found in 2 days." She finishes.

"Leaving in 30." Hotch orders.

I'm a little nervous about my first case. I already have my to go bag, and I'm the first in the jet. That is until Spencer walks in. I'm sitting on the couch, and I'm finishing the novel I was reading at the coffee shop. I don't look up at him, but I feel him sit down next to me on the couch. I put the book down into my lap and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Hm." I look up at him.

"I... uh." He coughs awkwardly. "I don't hate you," He waits for my reaction.

My brows furrow and I nod slowly. "Okay, well why don't you like me?"

"You.. I can tolerate you." He clears his throat.

"Alright then." I pick my book back up and the rest of the team gets into the jet. Spencer groans and gets up sitting further away from me. Emily returns in his place and I look up smiling at her putting down my book. "Hey Emily,"

"Hey y/n, how are you settling in..?" She smiles back.

"Uhm." I shoot Spencer a dirty look and return my gaze to Emily. "Great, I could get used to it." I fiddle with my hands nervously, picking at the skin.

"Is everything okay with..." She pauses "the genius and you? He's not giving you any hassle is he??" She notices the look I gave Spencer.

I bring my voice down to a whisper. " Yeah, a little. I'm not really sure why." I avoid eye contact with her and clear my throat.

She lowers her voice also as to not alarm Spencer. "He's not exactly the friendliest to new recruits," She chuckles. "I would know. Hey, just give him some time he'll get used to you." She gives me a soft smile and places her hand on my shoulder. "The rest of us love you, alright? We already consider you apart of the family."

I smile at her appreciatively. "Thanks, Emily."

She nods her head in acknowledgement. "And don't let him intimidate you he's just a six foot something twig. He's not as scary as he makes himself out to be."

@iniyalovesall

[miss-tc-nova]

In a Blink - Leona x Reader

I fucking slow blinked at a video of a cat slow blinking, so I had to write this story because I would fucking do this. I can't control it anymore. Written in the span of a few hours and on the spur of the moment.

Premise: Slow blinking at big kitty

Words: 846

~~~~~

               I carry two trays across the loud, chattery room. Several of my first-year friends are sitting around a table, already digging into their lunches. I greet them as I take my seat and my feline partner and I dig in. There’s never a dull moment with these guys and the Heartslabyul boys are already, comically in the midst of an argument when we join them with Jack mediating and Epel being no help at all.

               “What do you think?”

               Ace turns the conversation on me.

               “Ace, listen to me. There is no world in which you can take on a bear and live.” I point to the Pomfiore student. “You can’t even take Epel, let alone Jack.”

               Ace and Epel frown. Suddenly, the hierarchy of muscle comes into question as my boys break back into the heated discussion.

               My gaze shifts as I laugh. That’s when those intense eyes snare me—scrutinizing, bored, unblinking.

               Leona Kingscholar is a force to be reckoned with. His social status could have me removed from his vicinity with a single word. Hell, he could easily just get rid of me himself with all that power and wit he’s got. Pushing my luck is putting it lightly when I imposed on Savanaclaw while dealing with Azul and his henchmen. I had a direct hand in the events that lead to him exposing his deepest scars. My very first meeting with him started with me treading on his tail. A powerful man in almost every aspect with several reasons to loathe me, I should be cowering beneath his watch.

               But he tolerates me. I can’t call us friends, but I’m not afraid of Leona. I can walk by without flinching. Sometimes I ask him what plants I’m looking for when Professor Crewel sends me to the botanical gardens. Even when I was purposely keeping him up all night to convince him to help me get Ramshackle back, we just talked. Half of it may have been “Why are you so annoying?” and “I would throw you off the balcony if it wasn’t so much effort”, but there were some other words in there too. Point is, he could mess me up but I’m not worth the effort. And I take that as a win.

               Without thinking, I tilt my head and let my eyelids slowly fall.

               Immediately, fire surges into my ears at the devious smirk that stretches his lips. A hand flies to my mouth.

               I’ve made a mistake.

               From Grim I picked up the habit of slow blinking. Though the little dire beast is likely unaware of his instinctual message, the first time I blinked back, he was ecstatic. That day, I couldn’t go anywhere without him following and chattering away. Thus I began to return and initiate the gesture whenever Grim and I made eye contact—just a little message to say “I like you.” Soon enough, that little action became ingrained in my daily life and I’d find myself doing it to friends. Thankfully, they seemed unaware that I was even doing such silly things.

               But Leona knows.

               That smile screams that he’s fully aware of my implied message though I only did so out of silly habit. I’m mortified. Nobody was supposed to know—even Grim doesn’t consciously know that I do this. But of course I had to slow blink at the one freaking feline beastman that would know what I was doing. More than anything, I want to launch myself out the nearest window than face the humiliation he can wrought.

               “Isn’t that right, hench human?” Grim’s voice jerks my attention back to my friends.

               The noise falls from my mouth. “Huh?”

               Epel leans closer. “Are you okay? Your face is as red as an apple on my family’s farm.”

               “Do you want me to carry you to the nurse?” Jack offers.

               “N-No! I’m fine!” I stammer.

               I miss Deuce’s comments that gets them back into their discussion, but my head is still scrambling around my embarrassment. My gaze once again finds the lion prince. Still he stares with that smile that clamps down on my heart.

               Then his stare breaks, slow, steady, and intentional.

               My panic comes to a grinding halt. Suddenly that smile I thought to be a death sentence seems more genuine. I’m utterly baffled. Maybe he doesn’t just tolerate me.

               Maybe we are friends.

               With that, the lion picks up his tray and walks away as if nothing at all had happened.

               “Yo, what areyou looking at?” Ace turns in his seat, trying to see my point of view.

               Oh I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone. Otherwise everyone will know of my silly habit and I’ll get so much flack for it. Leona knows this. Maybe we aren’t friends. Maybe I’m prey. Whatever it is, I’m now confused as hell.

               “It’s nothing!” I snap.

               “Are you sure you’re okay?” Deuce asks. “You shouldn’t push yourself if you’re not feeling well.”

               Groaning, I let my burning face fall into my hands.

               Maybe I should still jump out the window.

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[k-dokja]

Wow, it has been a year since I last wrote something for him.

Summary: Your relationship is strange and perplexing. Neither of you mind it, it's no one else's business.

There is a line.

A clear line between you and Jonggun that you’ve accepted from the day you were introduced to him. The line which serves to be an invisible barrier between the two of you, thinner than thread but thick enough to keep the two of you from crossing it.

You can’t say you care for it. Not when you have no intention of crossing the line. Jonggun, however, does whatever he wants and he seldom thinks about the consequences of his actions if what he does bring him personal gratification. Because of that, on more than one occasion, you’ve seen him toeing the line, having a whole foot over even. You always patiently watched to see what he will do next, but after the third time this happened, you came to the conclusion that he only wanted to see you hold your breath in anticipation.

Afterwards, you stop caring.

While formality dictates that the two of you need to be faithful during your engagement, he cannot care less about it and the idea is appalling for you. Neither of you cares enough about the other to need some misguided loyalty. Even if you did, you doubt you’d ever receive it from him. You save yourself the grief by never bothering to care about it. He doesn’t have a problem with his freedom either. All is well in the world.

Until it isn’t.

“So, what are you to him, anyway?”

Joongoo, too nosy for his own good, always has a way to squirm his way into matters that shouldn’t be his to care about. You don’t really mind. You never bother to make sense of him, he’s useful enough that all of his downsides stop being a problem.

Tolerable enough that sometimes it amuses you to entertain him.

“Business partners,” you reply without glancing up from your phone. It wouldn't be your first choice to spend your free time lounging around with Joongoo, but there are worse options, you guess.

“Naur,” Joongoo says, “I’m business partner with him, business nemeses-with-benefits depending on days, but you are not his business partner.”

You glance at him. Trying to figure out what’s going on his pretty little head is a fool’s errand. You don’t even know where his nonsense begins and where his sense ends. At least, you aren’t so busy that his probing would become a bother.

“Pardon?” You say. “Him and I, we have common business ventures and same goals for expansion. What would we be if not business partners?”

Joongoo clicks his tongue, “You people sleep with your business partners?”

You snort, more amused by his misunderstanding than offended. “We aren’t sleeping together.” If this has been a year ago, you’d have said you don’t know where he gets the idea from. At this point in time, however, you’ve weathered enough people getting the wrong idea that his assumption sounds trivial to your ears.

“Aren’t you?” Joongoo asks, “Then what’s this weird vibe I’m getting from you two?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you resist smirking, you truly do, “what’s this exact vibe you see in us?”

He shrugs, “Dunno, like, you’re too comfortable with each other and shit,” he says, “either you’ve done the tango naked or something else is going on here.”

“I like your imagination. Very vivid.” You narrow your eyes at him but say nothing more about it. The discussion alone is silly and entertaining him for this long is the extent of your generosity.

"You know I'm right," he grumbles, "Even if you aren't sleeping together, there's something there. You'd be lying if you said there isn't."

You've returned to your phone by this point, and your attention to him is torn in half but at least you continue to answer, "Well, of course there's something there. We're engaged to be wed and until either of us found it enough of a nuisance to break the engagement off, we're bound by this thin thread of obligation we cannot care less for."

"Is that what you think?"

A third voice. Masculine. Familiar, and deeper than Joongoo's. You don't even need to look up to see Jonggun entering the room. You don't have to see him to know what face he's making either. Utterly impartial and mildly amused, the bare minimum of expression.

"Isn't it the truth?" You say. "Pretending otherwise would only be kidding ourselves."

Jonggun stops behind you, his hand is set on the back of your chair. He dips low enough that when he speaks, you feel his breath fan against your ears. The only indication that it affects you is the slightest twitch at the corner of your mouth. One you doubt he can see but know it's there anyway.

"And what if I want otherwise?"

You turn to level your eyes with his, your smile saccharine sweet. "If you wish for an early death then you should take the matter into your own hands, don't involve me in it." With that said and done, you go back to your phone, and your interest in the entire conversation vanishes.

"You're sure she's the nicest one out of us?" Joongoo drawls.

You don't need to see to know Jonggun is smiling when he says next, "Was there ever a doubt?"

[aurorasilverthorne]

Doe — A Deer — A Female Deer!

______________

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! Hazbin Hotel and all of its characters belong to Vivziepop and Amazon Prime.

______________

Overlord meetings either made her feel awkward or uncomfortable. It depended on who was in attendance. Rosie didn’t mind Zestial or Carmilla most of the time. Zeezi and Kilian were alright. She adored Alastor. But the Vees…ugh! Velvette—the loudmouth little shit talker was the most tolerable. Vox was a raging, petty bitch boy. And Valentino…his lewd remarks and unwelcome advances were enough to make Rosie’s stomach turn, which was saying something considering her cannibalistic tendencies.

She waited as long as possible before entering the conference room. Walking in with Alastor was usually enough to deter the pimpmoth, especially if they sat beside Zestial. Unfortunately, Alastor had yet to arrive. Part of Rosie feared he’d disappear again for another seven years. The thought formed a lump in her throat she forced herself to choke down. The others were already inside and ready to start. Valentino—the bastard he was, had claimed the seat between Zestial and the remaining unoccupied chairs.

Rosie glanced toward the elevators hoping and praying they’d open with a resounding ding and Alastor would step out. Nothing happened. No ding. No open doors. No dapper deer gent to rescue her from the clutches of Hell’s greatest pervert. Rosie bit back a groan and made her way to the table back straight and head held high determined to ignore the attending Vee.

The meeting began as they always did with roll call. It continued with a list of boring, drawn-out conversations about current events and other tedious things. The exterminations were still on hold and would be until further notice thanks to Charlie’s efforts and Carmilla’s knowledge of angelic steel and how to use it against exorcists. Rosie only half listened glancing at the door periodically looking for any sign of their resident wendigo.

Where was Alastor? Was he avoiding her? She’d been present during the battle, had seen him take a severe blow to the chest from Adam’s weapon. He’d come to her later for medical assistance. She’d cleaned, treated, and bandaged his wound. He’d promised to visit in the near future once repairs on the hotel were complete. She hadn’t seen, heard from, or spoken to him since. That had been a month ago.

Rosie tensed when she felt a familiar presence next to her. Valentino had switched chairs. He sat so close she could smell the overwhelming stench of his expensive cologne. She fought the urge to gag as he leaned in. His breath smelled of cigarillos and liquor. “What are you looking for, hermosa? Don’t you know everything you could ever want is right here?” He gestured to himself with what he probably thought was an alluring smile.

Rosie wrinkled her nose—or she would’ve if she’d had one. “I doubt that.”

The moth demon’s ill-tempered nature was legendary. It showed in how his expression twisted from false charm to petulant in the blink of an eye. “Hey, don’t blame me because your favorite furry isn’t here.” His suave facade slid back into place quicker than a snap of one’s fingers. “I’d never abandon you, Rosita.” He took her hand making her skin crawl as he brought it to his lips. “Forget Alastor. Date me instead. I don’t mind the occasional love bite.” His tongue slid out of his mouth to run along her knuckles.

Rosie jerked her hand out of his and recoiled. “That is disgusting!”

Everyone looked up and silence filled the room. Carmilla narrowed her eyes at Valentino before addressing Rosie. “Something you’d like to share with the rest of us, Rosie?”

The Cannibal Queen refused to falter under the weapons dealer's disdainful gaze. “Yeah. I have something to say.” She stood up and put one hand on her hip while pointing a finger at Valentino. “This prick’s been harassing me for weeks now, and not a damn one of you has said or done shit about it. These meetings are supposed to be neutral, not a breeding ground for sexual perversion. I’m leaving, you hear me? And if you don’t like it, feel free to kiss my ass!”

Carmilla’s eyes widened in shock as Rosie turned to leave. Zestial opened his mouth to speak, but Val beat him to it. “Hey! No one speaks to or about me that way, especially some cheap, tacky old slut from the cannibal colony!”

Rosie kept walking determined to get out of there. Before she could reach the door, Valentino lunged up out of his chair, one hand latching onto her hat while the other dug into the fabric of her gown just below her waistline. Rosie gasped caught off guard by the other demon’s rough attempt to drag her back to the table. She whirled around intent on elbowing him in the face or throat, but Val sidestepped, retaliating with a backhand to the face that left Rosie seeing stars.

The other overlords were about to intervene when something—or rather someone—slammed full force into the moth and sent him flying backward onto the table. The sheer strength of the collision knocked Rosie off balance. She landed on her knees catching herself with her hands as the sound of torn fabric filled her ears. Cool air danced along her doe ears and tail. One hand flew to her hair, the other to the lowest part of her spine in a futile attempt to hide what the others had already seen.

“Holy shit,” Zeezi exclaimed. “She’s a deer too!”

Rosie twisted around desperate to locate her hat. Val had taken it and a portion of her dress with him. He and Alastor were still grappling on the table. Val tried to kick Alastor off of him, but The Radio Demon was relentless and unyielding, landing punch after punch to any and every part of Valentino’s body he could reach. The solid wood beneath them caved in, but even that did nothing to dampen Alastor’s fury. He dug his nails into Val’s scalp and began slamming the pimp’s head against the concrete floor. “Don’t you ever touch her again you filthy piece of shit!”

Rosie winced at the sound of cracking bone. She felt something brush her shoulders and looked up to see Kilian putting his coat around her. Meanwhile, Alastor’s red scleras blackened and his pupils morphed into radio dials as he slashed at Valentino’s face, neck, and chest with his elongating claws.

“Get this fucker away from me,” Val screamed.

Zestial moved forth in a blur taking hold of Alastor. It took him and Zeezi working together to drag Alastor off of Val. Alastor struggled against their hold compelled by unparalleled anger at the moth’s repulsive treatment toward his Rosie.

“Alastor, cesar y desistir,” Carmilla ordered. Her commands fell on deaf ears.

Valentino crawled to the opposite side of the room putting as much distance between himself and the deranged deer demon as possible. His upper body was covered in deep gashes and fresh bruises, his attire soaked in blood. He pointed a trembling finger at Alastor. “Keep that thing away from me!”

Alastor hissed and gnashed his teeth. Zestial responded by slamming a wave of his dark magic down on the wendigo. Alastor bleated in pain breaking Rosie out of her stupor. She jumped up and ran to Alastor. “Don’t hurt him,” she cried, pushing Zestial away from Alastor. Much to everyone’s surprise, the ancient spider demon relented without protest and made no attempt to reprimand her.

Rosie knelt down beside Alastor and placed a hand on his back. The sound of her voice, gentle touch, and sweet lavender scent jolted him back to reality. His eyes returned to normal while his body shrank down to its natural size. She cupped his cheek and buried her face in the crook of his neck to soothe him.

He turned his head to meet her eye. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head following his gaze as it dropped to the coat draped around her. Rosie didn’t argue or fight him when he peeled it off her to replace it with his own. His instincts were likely screaming at him to make it clear to those present that she was already spoken for. Rosie cupped his face and rested his forehead against hers. Alastor's permanent smile softened as he wrapped her in a warm embrace and released what their onlookers could only assume was a content buck bleat.

“Awww,” Zeezi cooed. “So cute!”

Carmilla took a breath to steady herself. She didn’t like reprimanding Rosie or Alastor, especially for something Valentino had started, but there were rules and regulations when it came to overlord assemblies. She squared her shoulders and her voice took on an authoritative tone. “Alastor Dubois, Rosie Hunt?” Alastor stood and helped Rosie to her feet. They both turned toward Carmilla. “You are hereby banned from attending overlord gatherings for the next three months.”

Rosie scoffed. “Whatever. Ain’t no skin off my ass.”

Alastor wrapped a protective arm around her as they headed for the door. Valentino flipped them off thinking they couldn’t see with their backs turned. Alastor paused in the doorway to glare and snarl at the moth over his shoulder. Val screamed like the sissy bitch he really was and pressed himself against the wall. Alastor huffed and guided Rosie out into the hall.

Alastor always smelled of black coffee and pipe tobacco. Rosie breathed him in realizing right away his scent was stronger than usual. “You’re in rut,” she whispered, waiting until they were far enough away from the others to ensure they wouldn’t hear their conversation. “Is that why you haven’t visited me?”

“I didn’t want to risk harming you by succumbing to my baser needs,” he answered, pressing the first floor button.

“Oh, Al, you’d never hurt me,” Rosie assured him as they stepped onto the elevator.

The door slid closed behind them, though not before they saw Carmilla boot Val out of the conference room having banished him as well. Rosie covered her mouth to muffle a giggle at seeing the weapons dealer literally kicking the pimp’s ass all the way down the corridor to the adjacent stairwell. Her smile faded when Alastor removed his arm from around her so he could move to the other side of the elevator as they started their slow descent to the front lobby.

“You’re perfume,” he murmured, turning his face away and averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s so…”

“I’m in estrus,” she confessed, which explained why Val had been even more aggressive toward her than he’d been at previous meetings.

Rosie tried to close the distance between them but he held out his arm to stop her. “Don’t, Rosie, please…” The adrenaline from his fight with Valentino was still coursing through him along with the overwhelming desire to mate.

Rosie caught a glimpse of his strained expression. “Al…”

Without warning, she reached over, yanked open the emergency compartment, and pressed a button. Alastor swayed slightly when the elevator stopped. He lifted his head and saw her close the panel. “Rosie, what are you—”

Rosie silenced him with a kiss. Alastor’s ears jerked upright at the sudden, unexpected interaction. He tried to pull back but she cupped the back of his head and pinned him against the wall with her body. “The cameras,” he warned.

“I don’t care who sees. Let them watch. Maybe they’ll learn something.”

Alastor’s resolve melted away as she trailed kisses along his jawline and throat. He flipped them around pressing her against the wall while she undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “Please don’t hold back,” she begged.  

He hiked up her silk skirt so it pooled at her hips. “Dearest Rosie, I’d never withhold anything from you.”

_______________

The other overlords stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the screen in front of them. They’d left the conference room the moment they’d noticed the red light flash above the elevator. Carmilla, leading the way, had run to her office thinking the elevator had stalled due to a technical malfunction. She’d snatched up the phone on her desk planning to reassure Rosie and Alastor they’d get them out as soon as possible only to freeze after noticing what was unfolding on the security feed currently displayed on her computer.

“Santa mierda! Are you serious right now?”

Zestial tilted his head to get a look and immediately averted his gaze. “Oh, my…”

Zeezi started laughing so hard she had to lean against the desk to keep herself upright. “It’s demonic Animal Planet!”

Kilian blushed then turned away. “We shouldn’t watch. It’s impolite.”

“They’re fucking in my elevator!” Carmilla yelled.

“Be glad it isn’t your office or the conference room,” Zeezi wheezed.

“She doth have a point,” Zestial admitted.

Carmilla facepalmed.

______________

[yellowocaballero]

⭐️ for either of the fe3h fics <3

ROSETTA HEADSTONE!!!! A fic that was very messy and all over the place but one that I am actually very fond of and that was slightly slept on.

“You’re the other half of me.” Byleth spoke slowly, but for the very first time there was a hint of emotion in her voice. It was wonder. What an amazing first emotion to feel. How lucky! How magnificent! “I’m the other half of you.” Claude smiled. She was so wondrous. So beautiful and special. She’d need a lot of help. Dimitri would provide what he could, but Claude would have to pick up the rest. “You’re the other half of me. And I’m the other half of you. I’m you, and you’re me. Wonderful, isn’t it?” [...] “Is that a friend?” Byleth asked seriously.  “If you want. It’s anything you want.” Her hand was still on his chest, and Claude reached up to softly grasp her hand, pressing it softly against his chest. “Tell you what, Byleth. I’ll trust you completely if you trust me completely. Give me anything you want, and I’ll give you all of my own. Is that fair?”

There's a few different relationships that were very influential for this scene. SSS Class Suicide Hunter's Gongja/Raviel was a big one, but Full Metal Alchemist's Ed/Winry were too: when Ed tells Winry that he'll give her half of his life if she give her half of hers, and she tells him that she'll give him all of her life. Khalid and Byleth are platonic, but there's still something so Relationship about it that makes me go crazy.

I got fond of the character I had created over the course of this story. He started out a lonely, isolated, self-centered person. He was a chronic liar who was fundamentally impossible to understand. He used his separation from others as a microscope, a way of studying and trying to dissect them down into pieces that he can understand. He's the kind of person to brag about this, and a significant percentage of it is self-inflicted, but I felt bad for him. He and Byleth's disconnect, their inability to work together, inadvertently resulted in her death. His first time investing whole-heartedly in somebody was in a dying woman, who had been dead to begin with.

It was what made this moment special to me. He's not psychoanalyzing or dissecting her in this scene - he's just caught in the beauty of this imperfect and banal moment. He sees how amazing it is to have somebody to truly understand. Giving away all of himself is an act of intense vulnerability, the kind he once never would have tolerated, but he does it willingly here - because you can't get if you don't give, and if you give somebody all of you then you can have all of them, and what is shared is doubled.

I wrote Byleth very 'Dead Anime Mom' - everything she said had to be incredibly significant and meaningful. She was perfect and untouchable. It's only in the epilogue that we see her humanity and vulnerability, that she feels remotely on the same level as Khalid. She doesn't understand him and he doesn't truly know her - how fantastic, that there's so much to discover about each other! How miraculous, that this person is about to take her first steps into becoming a human being, and that you're lucky enough to guide her on that path! That you get to become a human being with her!

It's a unique set of emotions that I hope the reader was able to feel alongside Khalid. Both Weekenders and RH were stories about the protagonist joining humanity, and both of them had to do it through confronting the twin calamities of death and love, but I'm a bit more fond of how it happened in RH. I think it may have been the strong The World Ends With You influence, which is a game that splits open the mind of the depressed misanthropic fifteen year old. I remember the first time I felt lucky to exist in the world. It felt like an important part of growing up - and maybe a pre-requisite of survival. It's hard to survive never feeling that sense of wonder. It was great to write somebody experiencing it for the first time.

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

These Edibles Aren't Shit

Rating: M

Tags: first time getting high, Will Byers Needs a Hug, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Slice of Life, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recreational Drug Use, Eddie is wrong about not being able to OD on THC, Background Steve Harrington WC: 1588

AO3 link Written for @metalsandwichbingo square C3 - First time getting high + panicked care-taking

“Are you sure there’s anything in this?” Max asks, staring at her palms, “I don’t feel any different.”

“Max, it hasn’t even been half an hour,” Lucas says, sighing heavily, “Rick said—”

“But how do you know Rick didn’t just charge you twenty dollars for five gummy bears?” Mike interjects, frowning. “It doesn’t even taste any different.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you know any dealers?” Lucas huffs.

“We should have asked Argyle,” Mike mutters resentfully.

Will wants to say something about how stupid it would be to ask his brother’s boyfriend for weed. Argyle would say no. Then he’d tell Jonathan. Then Jonathan would sit him down for a talk , as if Jonathan hadn’t done harder shit when he was younger than Will is now. But Mike is usually the speaking up for Will. The words die in the back of his throat.

Mike reaches for another gummy. Lucas slaps his hand away. Their slap fight devolves into wrestling. Max cracks up and eggs them on.

No one notices Will is brooding.

In their defense, Will’s been brooding all week . It’s the anniversary of when he got split in half – one end in some ghost’s frosty stomach, and the other end in a tree that saved his life. It’s been seven years since El glued him back together. And he still gets into a deep funk about it, enough that Jonathan teleports out to Hawkins every year to fuss over him. Enough that his friends decided what he really needs is a good high. But they’ve run off to their own world, leaving Will behind.

It feels like everyone does. Jonathan never calls or texts first. Mom is busy with her new job and Bob. Steve sticks around for El . So he’s here, orbiting, tolerated out of habit.

Will grabs the remaining three and a half gummies and shoves them in his mouth. These edibles aren’t shit .

“Will!” Lucas yells, panicked, “what the fuck?”

“I’ll pay you back alright?” Will says, rolling his eyes, “I bet Mike is right. They’re just gummy bears. You got ripped off bad man.”

“Dude, that’s like seven times the dose! Rick said—”

“You mean Rick lied,” Will cuts Lucas off. He gets up and jumps up and down a bit to demonstrate just how sober he is. “Look, see? No weed. Just overpriced sugar. C’mon, let’s go dumpster dive at the mall. At least that’ll be fun.”

Eddie ignores the knock at the door. He’s finally about to beat Billy at street fighter. Whoever it is can wait.

“Shouldn’t we check?” Billy asks.

“If you want to forfeit, go ahead,” Eddie says, tongue between his teeth. Billy scoffs.

The knocking continues. This time, there’s a beat, like someone’s trying to play Another One Bites the Dust but badly, always off by a tempo or two. Eddie grits his teeth and tries to focus, but his Balrog falters. Billy’s Chun Li kicks him square in the chest. Shit . Why isn’t Billy getting distracted by something being off-beat? Why does he compulsively analyze ever single piece of noise?!

The knocking turns into body slams. Eddie throws the controller to the ground and stomps off.

“Some day babe,” Billy yells out, cackling.

“Fuck you,” Eddie yells back. He swings the door open.

Steve’s kids—Mike, Lucas, and Max are at the door. They look high as shit.

“Will’s missing,” Mike says, carefully enunciating his words. Max and Lucas nod frantically behind him, bloodshot eyes wide.

Eddie tries to shoo them inside. They look like they’re having the worst trip of their lives. He needs to get them somewhere cozy and safe. He needs to find the fucking dealer that sold these toddlers weed so he can strangle them. Sure, he might have done his fair share of dealing in his high school days, but he always babysat his clients for their first high…

This is the kids’ first high right? Fuck Steve is going to feel like such a shit dad.

Mike tugs insistently at Eddie’s sleeves. “No time to go inside,” he whines, “we were hanging out and Will just… left! You have to drive! We have to go find him!” He screeches for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Billy comes marching out and shoves the three kids into their shared apartment in one fluid motion. He closes the door behind them.

“What did you give him?” Billy growls.

“Give him what?” Max says, trying and failing to roll her eyes, “we were just… hanging out.”

“Weed gummies,” Lucas admits, eyes firmly on the floor.

“Didn’t Steve tell you not to do drugs?” Billy growls.

“Yeah, that’s why we waited until this week,” Lucas offers. Man, he’s chatty when he’s high. “He’s touring colleges with El.”

“Yeah, we kinda noticed,” Eddie mutters, trying to stifle his laughter. He’s trying to remember how Steve deals with these kids. Why are they so hung up on what Steve might think? Can he get away with just threatening to tell Steve? He’s going to obviously… but right now, he needs some leverage to wheedle as much detail from these kids as possible so he can find Will. Steve would be devastated if anything happens to that kid. He was just wondering the other day if he pays enough attention to him—he’s so much quieter than the rest of his obnoxious children.

“And it’s not like you didn’t do harder stuff when you were younger than us,” Mike says snottily, “so spare us the lecture and help us find Will.”

“And look how we turned out! Look how this is turning out! This is why Steve didn’t want you doing drugs,” Billy snarls.

“Oh right, Olympic gold medalist? Rising metal star? Single dad sending himself and his daughter to college?” Max snaps back, “I’m quaking in my boots.”

“You think we’re cool,” Eddie gasps, trying to tamper down the sudden balloon of excitement in his chest.

“No I don’t,” Max curls in on herself, “shut up.”

“Sure.” Eddie winks and she pulls a tissue out just so she could wad it up and throw it at him. Mike is already wandering all over the house, looking into all the corners as if Eddie and Billy are hiding Will in a corner.

Lucas sits back and sniffles. Max goes over and wraps her arms around him. “This is all my fault,” he wails, “I thought it would help.”

“What would help?” Eddie prods gently.

“He’s been all in a funk this week, and I thought getting high would help him relax. To sleep,” Lucas admits. “And now he’s gone!”

“Hey, you told him not to take all the gummies,” Max says, squeezing Lucas hard.

“What if he OD’d,” Mike says in a panic. Lucas starts to wail. Eddie goes over to wrap an arm around the gangly kid as well and glares at Mike.

“You can’t OD on edibles,” Eddie chides, “research your drugs before you do them Jesus H. Christ.”

Billy taps his chin. “You said he’s been in a funk?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Mike says, wide-eyed.

“I know where he is,” Billy says confidently. “C’mon. Get in the car.”

********************** Will is exactly where Billy said he would be. He’s slouching into a rather wilted looking maple tree, head turned to whisper something into its trunk. It can’t be comfortable. The ground is cold and the air is icy. There’s a small spigot about two feet above Will’s head that some resident must have put there for the sap, but the tree isn’t giving anything out.

Billy walks towards him slowly, more gentle than Eddie’s ever seen him. Eddie shoots his arm out so the kids wouldn’t mob Will and ruin the moment.

************************** Billy recalls what Steve had told him about how to approach El, back when they first met. Approach slowly, at a distance, move in a whirl to avoid spooking the kid. It’s been a while, almost a decade. Thankfully, muscle memory kicks in. Will watches, dazed, as he knee-walks over to the little kid. Man, it’s been seven years and the kid hasn’t put on any muscle, just height.

“This was the tree right?” Billy asks gently.

Will nods, stroking the trunk. “I should have visited sooner,” he whispers.

“It’s hard, being reminded,” Billy says, settling down cross-legged next to the kid. He still gets night terrors around this time of the year, and he only almost got eaten (well, El also broke every bone in his body, but in retrospect, he kind of deserved that). “I think this tree would understand.”

“I wish I could talk to them again,” Will’s voice hitches. He looks up to the sky. “Like, that week. I was so scared. And they were so exhausted. But they still kept… listening. Talking. Telling me everything would be alright. That my friends would find me.”

“And they did.”

“Yeah,” Will huffs, “they did.” He looks to the ground, a fat ball of tear rolls down his cheek. “Worried they’d forget.”

“I don’t think you can make them forget kid,” Billy says, ruffling his bowl cut. “You took a while visiting this tree, but you didn’t forget it.”

Will sniffles. Billy leans into the tree and pulls Will into an awkward, but firm embrace. Eddie frees the kids and they all come ambling over to pile on. Billy tries not to stiffen at this level of unconditional affection. He knew what he was signing up for when he decided to date a single dad of five kids and counting.