#a collection I’ve been brewing for a while

[thebadchoicemachine]

Favorite TF2 Angst One-Shots

⚠️Read through the tags of each fic for full TWs, im not making them here ⚠️

Mask Off - A stingingly well written scout sickfic with dad spy focus. Beautiful, simple, and heart wrenching. I can’t do it justice with description.

The Lesser Of Two Evils - Engineer whump. He’s forced to pick one of his team members to kill. I love the way the characters are described, especially Soldier and the enemy Spy. 

Little Flame Extinguished - Partner piece to the previous fic ft. nonbinary Pyro.

‘Cause when i call, i hope you pick up your phone - Scout calls his mom to say goodbye. Takes place during The Naked and the Dead. Another fic with Dad Spy parts that water my eyes.

Tiny Little House - Very short fic about Solder’s childhood. Almost like a poem.

The Freedom of Loneliness - The View from Halfway Down from Bojack Horseman written with the TF2 cast. I read this a few times a month.

[glorysbox]

breeding w di Leon ??????????😩😩

leon x afab!reader

wc: 1.8k

tags: explicitly 18+, breeding obvs, pregnancy mention, reader has breasts

“I’m getting old.” Leon mutters, pausing momentarily to sip at his mug full of coffee that you’d brewed for him a few moments earlier. You raise an eyebrow at this; head turning ever so slightly to meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since he’d been on the mission to Alcatraz. There’s been a personality shift that’s come over him in this time—at first, you just chalked it up to self-reflection from a near death experience.

Maybe there’s something else to it.

“You keep saying that,” you note, attention back on the kitchen counter as you prepare breakfast for the both of you. “You’re not.”

“I am. You can’t deny it. And you know, well…” he sighs, setting the mug down. “I’ve been thinking about some things. About us.”

This gets your attention. You turn fully to face him now.

He stands, advancing towards you, trapping you in between his body and the counter behind you. Leon’s lips are on yours nearly immediately—and while you appreciate the gesture and the taste of hazelnut coffee creamer that lingers in his mouth, you’re feeling a bit…

Nervous.

Your nerves quickly shift into a feeling of something else, the sensation of Leon’s hands squeezing on your waist quickening your heartbeat—that familiar aching between your thighs reddening your face at his touch. His eyes are on you as you part, examining the pretty slopes and curves of your face—but your nerves quickly shift back to that feeling of uncertainty.

“I love you,” he starts, hands furthering up your torso. One hand runs over the curve of your stomach, shifting back to the fat of your hip. “And I’ve been thinking about just how good you’d look pregnant.”

Your breath comes out in slight pants at the feeling of his hands tracing over the contour of your body. Leon leans in, placing feather-light kisses over the soft skin of your neck—the feeling of his lips and the prickle of his stubble admittedly making your knees weak. He smells good, like home; like aftershave and cologne from the night before when he’d fallen asleep with his arms around you.

His hands snake up the long shirt that you’re wearing—one of his that you’d fished from his dresser ages ago—traveling from your waist up to cup your breasts. His tongue runs over the shell of your ear, warm breath fanning over the sensitive feel of your skin. You shudder.

“Think about it. Me, you, a family…” Leon’s tone is hushed as he speaks in your ear, thumb toying at the sensitive peaks of your nipple. You feel him smile as he places a kiss on your temple, something you can hardly focus on from the feel of his hand caressing your breasts. “Don’t you want that?”

“I—” Your breath hitches at the feeling of deft fingertips running along the now sodden cotton of your panties, thighs shifting and molding around the shape of his hand between your thighs. “I… yes, of course. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but…”

“But?” He questions, tugging the wet fabric aside enough for his fingers to drag along your sticky folds. Leon’s breath fans on your neck, his cock stiff against the inside of your thigh. It’s thick and hard and throbbing and has your walls clenching around nothing—needy from just the idea of him being inside of you.

“But…” Your voice is low, teetering out pathetically at the feeling of the pad of his thumb toying with your clit. His movements are slow and methodical, circling—almost too much while simultaneously being not enough. “Your job, and…”

The way your bottom lip catches in your teeth makes him want to kiss you—and fill you with his cum—all the more. It’s been plaguing his thoughts ever since Alcatraz.

“We can work that out,” he mumbles, finger hovering around your entrance, collecting the arousal that seeps from you in anticipation. Your nails dig into the muscle of his forearm, head hanging low at the feeling of the digit threatening to breach inside of you. It’s too much. But not enough. “Work’s been slowing down. Doubt that they’d want to keep an old man like me out on the field too long anyway.”

You go to speak—you want to scold him for calling himself old, even though it’s undeniably true—but you’re cut off by the sound of your own whine at the feeling of his finger pushing its way inside of you.

He only goes as far as the first knuckle… but the gasp that falls from your lips coupled with a low moan has him a bit too eager to hear more from you. Leon inserts a second finger, the pad of his thumb pressing a fleeting amount of pressure on the sensitive bud of your clit. He’s patient as he finger-fucks you, scissoring you open with methodical movements that have your knees weak and your face hot.

You’re too busy whining his name to realize the way he’s looking at you.

Too needy to notice the way his cock throbs at the feeling of your wetness around his fingers; too drunk on his touch to see the way that his blue eyes are trained so intently on the sight of his fingers slipping out of you and pushing their way back inside. He slides his fingers out of you, marveling at the strings of sticky arousal that cling to them.

“So,” he pauses momentarily—brings his fingers to his tongue—and wraps his lips around them. “Did I convince you?”

You nod.

It’s not long before you feel the coldness of his fingers—wet from you and from his own mouth—hooking along the lace hem of your underwear to tug them down. The cotton pools at your ankles.

“You’re fucking me on the counter?” The question falls from your lips breathlessly; the feeling of his hand squeezing at the fat of your ass eliciting more noise from you than you’d be willing to admit.

“Sure am,” he mutters, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he pulls the fabric of his pants down just enough to free his cock. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to make up for this. I intend on—“

He hoists you up properly, arm keeping you suspended in the air, eyes on the slick sticky mess that’s littered your thighs. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist. The head of his cock prods at your entrance—leaking precum enough to leave you wondering if he’d left a sticky stain on the cotton of his gray boxers.

“—stuffing you full of cum everyday until I see a positive test.”

Something tells you that he plans to make good on his promise.

He slides into you slowly; the pace agonizing as his cock stretches and splits you open—your walls shaping around his size, nails digging further into the skin of his arm. You shudder at the sound of his voice in your ear; low and needy and whiny for the feeling of the warmth of your walls instinctively gripping around his shaft.

“Leon,” he audibly groans at the sound of his name from your lips—how breathless and pretty and needy you sound for him. “Please, I—“

His fingers leave indents in the skin of your ass, his hips pressing into you so agonizingly slow to the point where you’re beginning to ache from the feeling of needing him so desperately.

“Come on,” Leon buries himself to the hilt—reveling at the feeling of the softness of your body against his. The granite edge of the counter digs at your back; a non-issue considering the fact that you’re struggling to keep your composure at the feeling of Leon balls deep inside of you. “You can take it.”

You nod.

Crescent moon shaped indentations are left on the muscle of his back, red and angry—unnoticed by the feeling of him plunging into you; his hips flush against yours with each slip of his cock inside of you. Sticky strings of arousal begin to line down his thighs—the creamy ring pooling at the base of his cock fueling the pathetic whimpers that slip from your and his lips.

Leon roughly fucks into you, pace unforgiving as your insides uncontrollably quiver and squeeze around him. You pray that no one can hear the both of you through the opened window of your kitchen—the sound of his balls slapping against your skin entirely too loud—coupled with the noisy moans that seep from your lips and the low grunts that seep from his. You can hardly tell the color of his eyes; his pupils blown so wide that you’d mistake them for brown if you weren’t aware they were blue.

He leans forward—hips still snapping against your own—and presses his lips against your own. It’s uncoordinated. It’s needy. It’s wet and sloppy as he struggles to focus on the fact that he’s supposed to be kissing you when you feel so good and tight and wet and warm around him.

He greedily tongues at your lips and greedily ruts into your pussy, movements bordering on feral at the feeling of you and the thought of stuffing you with his cum. The pretty noises that fall from your mouth drive him forward, lips still on your own as he swallows every semblance of a mewl that you make from the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.

Leon pulls away for a moment—lips reattaching to your neck, trailing to your throat, savoring the taste of your skin. He’s losing himself. Losing himself to the overwhelming urge to put a baby in you; to the idea of your body softening and breasts swelling and hips widening—to the idea of just how perfect you’d look with his kid in you.

You squeal at the feeling of the pad of his thumb on your clit, thighs clenching and trembling and shaking around his waist—nails digging further into the meat of his back as his relentless pace falters and rhythm stutters towards sloppiness. Leon coaxes you further towards your orgasm, motion of his thumbs pulling an orgasm from your swollen, throbbing clit; the pulsating of your walls pulling him deeper into you and effectively milking his cock.

The sight of you—back arching, legs trembling, jaw slack, body spasming—it’s too much. His cock twitches, his hips sputter; his grip on you borders on pain—and you can’t do anything but take it. You feel it before you realize it. You feel the slight quiver of his body against yours. You feel his lips on your throat, tongue pressing on the rapid pulsing of the vein on your neck. You feel the warm, sticky ropes of his cum that he’d stuffed in you with no shame.

He places slow kisses along your jawline—cock still stuffed in you, plugging his cum inside—and again, you feel the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Mm.” Leon’s voice is barely audible as he mutters in your ear. “S’ not enough. Let me give you some more.”

[quinnylouhughesx43]

A Little Attention

summary: in which ethan and y/n are arguing heatedly, turns out it’s over something simple if only she would’ve said something

word count: 3.93

warnings: ⚠️MDNI 18+⚠️, smut smut smut, unprotected p in v, rough, moderate-a lot of foul language, fem!receiving oral, fem!receiving fingering, bit vivid

notes: hi there 👋🏼. this was written for @mommahughes19-23 for her birthday (everyone tell her happy late birthday 🥳) i feel it is one of the most vivid pieces I’ve ever produced smut or not. seriously no minors, if anyone can tell me how to age restrict it please message me 🥲

Ethan's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his knuckles white with the effort of containing his rage. Y/n's eyes flashed with a fiery defiance that matched the heat of his own. They stood in the living room, their voices rising and falling like the crescendos of a tumultuous symphony. Their words were sharper than the knives in the kitchen drawer, each one a deliberate strike aimed at the heart of the other. The air had unspoken accusations and a tension that could be sliced with a child’s toy knife.

"You never listen to me!" Ethan's voice echoed through the apartment, bouncing off the walls and ceiling.

"And you never understand!" Y/n shot back, her own volume rising to meet his.

Their argument had been brewing for days, a slow brew of unspoken resentments and misunderstandings. It had finally reached a boiling point, spilling over into a confrontation that neither had seen coming. Ethan's eyes searched hers, looking for a crack in the armor of her anger, a glimpse of the softness he knew lay beneath. But all he found was a mirror to his own fury.

Y/n's chest heaved with the force of her words, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to keep up with the pace of the fight. Her cheeks were flushed, not just from the heat of her words, but from the rush of blood that came with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The scent of their shared rage filled the room, a heady perfume that seemed to thicken the air around them.

"All you ever do is hockey this, hockey that, hang out with this group, hang out with that group," she desperately pleaded, her voice cracking with the weight of her frustration. "When will you have time for me?"

Ethan's anger fizzled at the sound of her desperation. He knew he'd been seeing her less recently, but the insinuation stung more than any slap ever could. He was torn between his love for the sport that had given him a future and the woman who was his present.

The woman who is hopefully his future.

The rage that had fueled him moments ago dissipated, leaving a cold, stark reality in its place. He had never meant to make her feel like she was in second place. He stepped closer to her, his heart pounding in his chest, and reached out to touch her, but she flinched away. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was like a punch to the gut.

With a heavy breath out, Ethan realized quickly the fight wasn't worth losing her over. He reached out again, this time with gentle hands that trembled slightly. "Babe," he began, his voice softer than the whisper of a leaf in the wind, "I'm sorry."

Y/n looked at him with sad eyes that spoke volumes. Her anger had not disappeared, but the intensity had given way to a deep sadness that was far more poignant. For a moment, she just stood there, her chest heaving with the weight of her emotions. Then, she turned and started walking up the stairs to his bedroom. The sound of her footsteps on the wooden steps was like a silent scream echoing through the apartment.

Ethan knew he had to act fast but he couldn’t chase after her instantaneously. He couldn't let the argument end like this, not when he felt so much for her. He waited a few moment, giving her space she to collect herself. While allowing himself some time to come together. Then, he followed her, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a drum. Each step he took was like sinking in molasses, slow, deliberate, feeling stuck in time, as if the fate of their relationship hinged on the precise timing of his arrival. Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows timing is always crucial in arguments.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw her silhouette through the slightly ajar door of his bedroom. She was lying on the bed, her back to him, her body a taut bow of tension. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting a warm, intimate light over the disarray of their clothes, a silent testament to the tumult of their emotions.

Ethan approached slowly, his steps measured, each one a silent apology. He slid into the bed, his body careful not to disturb hers. He lay on his side, close enough to feel the heat of her body, but not so close that he could be accused of invading her space. He reached out, his hand tentative as it rested on her hip. Her skin was warm and smooth, a stark contrast to the ice-cold fear that gripped his heart.

For a moment, she remained stiff, unyielding. Then, almost imperceptibly, she leaned back into him, her body melting into his embrace. It was a subtle surrender, a silent acceptance of his apology. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the curve of her body fit against his like a jigsaw piece finding its match. Her breathing evened out, he took that as a good sign.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," he whispered into her hair, his voice raw with emotion. "I didn't mean to make you feel less valued, or that I was ignoring you. I've just been caught up in everything, and I know that's not an excuse." He paused, feeling her body tense slightly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just tell me what you need."

She rolled over to face him. Her eyes searched his, the anger now replaced by a smoldering intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through his body. She reached up, her hand sliding over his jaw, and then down to cover his mouth. The touch was gentle, but the message was clear: she didn't want his words, she wanted action. Ethan's pulse quickened as he felt her other hand begin to trace the line of his collarbone, her fingernails lightly scraping against his skin.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice a low, throaty purr that sent shivers down his spine. "I just missed you so much." His eyes stared right into her, and the depth of her need reflected in the dark lust filled pools. "I just got so frustrated because I needed you, and you weren't there. I needed you so badly, I couldn’t take care of it myself."

Her hand traveled south, slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants. The warmth of her touch was like a brand, searing through the fabric to the very core of his being. She teased him gently, her fingertips tracing the outline of his cock, which grew hard and thick beneath her touch. Ethan's eyes rolled back in his head, his breath hitching in his throat. He hadn't expected this, but the sudden shift in her demeanor was like a balm to his bruised ego.

“Y/n,” he shakily breathed out. “Baby, please. You do..”

She cut his words off placing one finger to his lips. “Ethan.” Y/n groaned. “Do not make me go back to my dorm, to my toys that are very much not you.”

Her hand traced his cock again, but this time she stopped and lightly squeezed it. The sudden pressure was like a switch thrown in a dark room, illuminating a hunger in Ethan that was more primal than anything he'd felt before. He took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt his body respond to her touch, his cock swelling and pulsing with the rhythm of his heart.

Without another word, Ethan rolled over her, his body a mountain of heat and need. One arm slid under her, supporting her back, while the other slipped under her shorts, seeking the warmth between her legs. Her thighs parted for him like the pages of a favorite book, revealing the slick wetness that coated her pussy. He groaned, the sound a mix of relief and desire, as his fingers found her clit and began to circle it with an urgency that matched the racing of his heart.

"All you needed was a little attention?" he teased, his voice low and gruff, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Hmm? Was that all it was?" His thumb applied gentle pressure, rolling her sensitive nub in a way that made her eyes flutter closed and her back arch. “You just needed to be a brat and pitch a fit to get my attention?”

"I need more than a little attention," she murmured, her voice thick with need. Her hand slipped down to cover his, urging him to increase the tempo of his strokes. His touch was electric, setting her nerve endings ablaze with every brush against her clit. "Much more," she gasped, as he obliged, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder.

Ethan's mouth found hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep, tasting the sweetness of her need. He could feel the tension coiled tight in her body, the way she arched into his touch, begging for more. He broke the kiss, his teeth grazing her lower lip, drawing a soft moan from her. "How much more?" he whispered against her ear, his breath hot and heavy.

“All of you. Please E.” She whimpered.

Ethan growled with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with desire. The roughness of his touch across her body sent a thrill of excitement through her, making her pussy clench around his fingers before he withdrew them. He began to remove her clothes with a purposefulness that was almost violent, ripping the fabric as if it were paper standing in the way of something he needed to claim. Her shirt was the first to go, torn away to reveal her lacy black bra, which he quickly unhooked. Her breasts spilled out, the nipples already erect and begging for his mouth. He didn't disappoint, taking one in his mouth and sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making her gasp with pleasure.

Her shorts were next, pulled down with one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but a pair of drenched panties. He kissed his way down her body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire wherever it touched. When he reached her panties, he didn't bother to remove them, instead choosing to kiss and lick the fabric that separated him from her soaking wetness. She bucked her hips, trying to get closer, but he held her firm, the restraint only adding to the delicious torment.

Unable to resist her whines any longer, Ethan tore the panties away, revealing her to his eager eyes. He spread her legs wider, exposing her completely to his gaze. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, the way her pussy glistened with arousal, the way her thighs quivered with anticipation. His dick throbbed painfully, demanding affection, but he held back seeing how he with holding attention from was the reason they were arguing in the first place. This time wasn’t about him.

“I want to taste you, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Tell me how much you want me to make it up to you. Tell me how much you need me too.”

Her eyes snapped open, the desire in them a wildfire that could have burned down the whole apartment complex. “Ethan, please. I need you to fuck me so hard I forget everything else exists. I need to feel you everywhere, to drown in you. I need it rough and intense, just like how we felt downstairs. I want you to fuck the anger and frustration out of us both.”

The words were like a lit match thrown into a barrel of gunpowder. Ethan's control snapped like a dry twig underfoot. He grabbed her hips and yanked her to the edge of the bed, kneeling between her legs. He looked up at her face when his mouth made contact with her pussy. He let out the deepest of deep groans when he watched her eyes roll back slightly.

Her sweet scent filled his nostrils as he tasted her, his tongue delving into her warm, wet depths. She was already so close, her body quivering with the effort of holding back. He didn't bother with gentle licks or teasing strokes; he went straight for the kill, his tongue flicking against her clit with the precision of a snake's strike. She screamed out his name, her legs wrapping around his head, holding him in place.

"Do you want to know what you taste like?" He asked, his voice muffled against her, a smile playing on his lips as he plunged a finger into her, feeling her tighten around him. "You taste like you’re mine." Ethan stated firmly, possessively. His voice filled with satisfaction as she moaned loudly in response. "And I am going to make sure you feel like it too." He adds another finger, pumping fast, his thumb paying close attention to her clit. His tongue alternating out with his thumb. “By the end, you’ll have no doubts baby girl. You are all fucking mine.”

"I'm so close," Y/n whimpered, her body tightening around his fingers. She could feel the orgasm building inside her, a storm ready to break. Ethan's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched her, his mouth a wicked smile against her sensitive flesh.

"Good," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Because I'm going to make you come so hard you'll forget how you were feeling when you were without me, missing me." He took her clit into his mouth, sucking hard as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. She bucked against his face, her nails digging into the bed sheets. The sensation was overwhelming, a crescendo of pleasure that washed over her like a tidal wave. The red flush across her skin a perfect show of the sensation flowing through her.

With a final, brutal tug of his fingers, she came with a scream that was muffled by the pillow she'd bitten into. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around his digits as she rode the waves of pleasure. Ethan withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with her juices. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a smirk that was equal parts arrogance and satisfaction. The taste of her on his tongue was intoxicating, a heady mix of sweetness and desire that made his cock throb with need.

He stood from the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. With a swift movement, he removed his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his hard, thick cock. It bobbed slightly in the warm, lamplit air, a silent demand for her attention. He stroked it a few times, watching her reaction. Her eyes followed the motion of his hand like a hawk tracking its prey, her pupils dilating with each pass.

Ethan climbed back between her legs, his cock pressing against her slick folds. He didn't enter her yet, instead choosing to tease her by rubbing the tip against her clit. She bucked her hips still sensitive from moments ago and trying to force him inside quickly but he held back. He was enjoying an all new type of power play. He leaned in, his mouth hovering just above hers. "You sure you want, uh what was it you said?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He moved to whisper right next to her ear. “Me ‘to fuck the anger and frustration out of us both’ y/n?” Ethan nudge her head to the side with his nose so he had better access to the sweet spot on her neck.

Her breath was coming in short, desperate pants as she nodded frantically. "Yes," she whispered, the word barely audible.

With a predatory growl, Ethan didn't wait, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, effectively opening her up to him. He positioned the head of his cock at her entrance, feeling the heat of her desire. He took one final look into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was the need for release, the same need that pulsed through him. He slid into her with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

Y/n's eyes widened with the suddenness of his entry, her body stretching around him. He didn't give her time to adjust; instead, he began to pound into her with a ferocity that matched the intensity of their argument. Each thrust was punctuated by a grunt of effort, his body moving in a primal rhythm that seemed to echo the beat of their hearts. Her walls tightened around him, the friction almost painful, but he didn't slow down. He was a man on a mission, she asked him for something after being upset with him and he was not going to let her be unhappy with him again.

He reached down, his hand wrapping around her throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice a dark rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air around them. "Do you want me to fuck you like you're mine?"

Her eyes, glazed with pleasure, searched his, and she nodded frantically. The pressure of his hand on her throat only served to heighten her arousal, sending a fresh wave of wetness to coat his cock as he pounded into her. The sound of their bodies slapping together was like a drumbeat that echoed through the room, a rhythm that seemed to sync with the racing of their hearts.

Y/n’s whimpers grew louder, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Each thrust was a declaration of ownership, a claiming of what was his. She could feel herself losing control, her body responding to his every move with a mindless need for more. The sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced before, a heady mix of pain and pleasure that had her teetering on the edge of sanity. The hand that was holding her throat traveled down her body and came to a rest at her lower abdomen. Ethan applied slight pressure. Eliciting a sharp loud moan from y/n. Ethan smirked proudly.

Her eyes were glazed over, her pupils dilated to the point where the color was almost entirely obscured. Her nails dug into his arms, leaving half-moons of pain that Ethan barely felt. All he could focus on was the way her body responded to his, the way she arched into every thrust, the way her pussy clenched around him like a vice. He felt like he could come just from watching her lose herself in the moment.

He slowed his pace, his strokes turning long and deep, drawing out her pleasure like a master artist. His hand found its way back to her throat, his grip firm but gentle, a silent reminder of who was in control. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low, guttural growl. "Look at me while I make you feel this good."

Her eyes snapped to his, the intensity in them making his own pulse race. He watched as she bit her lower lip, her teeth sinking into the plump flesh, trying to hold back the scream that threatened to tear from her throat. He could feel her pussy starting to pulse and squeeze around him, her inner walls fluttering like a bird taking flight.

"Are you about to come for me, baby?" Ethan's question was a low growl, his voice thick with need. The words were a demand, a challenge. He knew she was close, he could feel it in the way her body was tensing beneath his. A quick simple “Uh-huh” was muttered.

With a smirk, he pulled out of her, flipping her over onto her stomach with ease. He grabbed her hips, positioning himself behind her. Her favorite position, their position when they need to be quick or he’s wanting to show her he pays attention. He took a moment to appreciate the view, her round ass in the air, her slick and it’s all for him. The sound of her gasp was like music to his ears when he thrust himself back inside, and he felt her body tense around him as he filled her completely.

She was teetering the edge of her second orgasm and he was veering towards his first.

"You take me so good, baby," Ethan groaned, his words hot and heavy in her ear. "So tight, so wet, like you were made for me." His hands gripped her hips, his thrusts deep and punishing, each one sending a bolt of pleasure through her body. "You look so pretty when you're getting fucked like this, all flushed and desperate for more." He gave her hips a squeeze, he was holding her up. Her legs were shaking too much to keep her up herself.

Without warning, Y/n's body tensed up like a bow string pulled tight, and with a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, she came. Her pussy clamped down on him like a vise, her inner muscles pulsing around his cock in waves of ecstasy. Her nails dug into the bed, her back arched high, and she trembled uncontrollably as the orgasm ripped through her like a tornado. It was the kind of climax that stole her breath, made her vision swim with stars, and left her feeling like she was floating on a cloud of pure bliss.

Ethan watched her shatter with a mix of pride and need. He felt her pussy milk him, and it was all he could take. With a roar that seemed to echo through his very soul, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go. His hips bucked against her as he emptied himself inside her, filling her up with his hot, sticky come. Each pulse of his release sent a new shock of pleasure through her, making her orgasm last longer, making it even more intense.

As the waves of pleasure receded, Ethan pulled out of her gently, collapsing onto the bed beside her. He rolled onto his side, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving. He reached out, his hand shaking slightly, to trace the line of her jaw. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and he felt a fierce surge of love for her that could bring him to his knees.

Y/n turned her head to look at him, her eyes still glazed with the aftermath of her climax. A soft, sated smile graced her lips, and Ethan felt his heart swell in his chest. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, tasting the salt of her skin. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Always." He paused and thought about what to say for a moment.

“Just next time, talk to me about how you’re feeling before you get a moody and bratty because you need dicked down. I’ll happily do it, but…” He stopped talking to push some hair out of her face. “But y/n/n, sex isn’t everything in a relationship, I can give you physical affection in many forms. Not that sex isn’t great, I don’t want it to be everything with us. Okay, baby?”

She gave him a genuine, gentle smile reaching out to hug him. She was so desperately, hopelessly, in love with him it was painful at times, but he was so worth it.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits Pt. 3 | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s teasing goes a bit too far, and he fails to notice until it’s too late, leaving him comforting his panicked mate.

Word Count: ~ 1.1k

Warnings: Panic attack, safe word, bondage, smut (mainly just mentions of it but still), but ends happy

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: I’ve had this idea brewing for a while and figured it would fit in well with this series, plus add more depth to their relationship beyond just sex, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

You knew Azriel was a teaser, his infinite patience often making its appearance in bed multiple times, from the way he would make you cum twice, maybe even thrice before slowly entering you with undying patience.

Usually, it was a good thing, despite how frustrating it could be, but this time, you were past that initial point of frustration.

His shadows had been holding your body down for hours, it felt like, in reality, it had been an hour and thirty minutes. His fingers gently grazed your folds, still not dipping in as his mouth was attached to your neck, giving sucks and bites to mark you, claim you. He looked utterly lost, eyes glazed over as his hips rubbed against the soft sheets.

Your head was spinning with need as you whimpered, little sniffles coming out as you whined.

“Please, Az. Just touch me.”

You begged, and he only shook his head with a little hum against your skin, a light ‘pop’ sounding as he pulled from the newest hickey he’d added to the collection.

“Patience, love. Just one more, you can wait that long, can’t you?”

He asked, a low murmur against your skin as he began on the ‘final’ mark before he’d finally let you feel his touch where you wanted it. You had heard “just one more” at least ten times by now. He wouldn’t touch you where you wanted, no matter how much your begging devolved into senseless pleading and writhing against the shadows that held you.

Their grip wouldn’t let up.

It had been a new way to experiment around with touch, especially after the countertop incident. Binding wasn’t something you minded, as long as you had your mate near you.

He knew that the mating bond was stronger for you, especially with your ovulation and hormones thrown into the mix, not to mention the fact that he was your first and only, your young age in Fae equivalents also meaning you had much less self-control than him.

Yet he teased on. And on. And on.

Hands just barely not touching your wings, lips grazing right on the corners of yours, fingers ghosting over your soaked cunt, barely touching. All while you were powerless and held down by the shadows, grip airy but also tight.

At some point, as you began struggling against the shadows more, writhing and pulling against them, desperate for any sort of touch or feel or anything at all, you weren’t in bed lying with your shadowsinger anymore, you were trapped.

Trapped, and you couldn’t get out.

You couldn’t get out.

Tears welled in your eyes as your body went into fight or flight, panic shooting through your veins as you hyperventilated, eyes blurry, and mind unable to remember anything about the safe word you’d chosen, let alone what it was.

You called out his name from the dark abyss you had been dragged into, sobs wracking your body, you just wanted your mate to hold you —

And then he was there again.

*********************************************************

Azriel knew he’d been pushing it when he’d teased you for nearly two hours on end, but who could blame him when your whines and begging were so addicting?

The way you writhed and squirmed, straining against his shadows… How could he not want to watch it indefinitely?

But when that first pang of panic had shot through the bond, he knew that he’d crossed some boundaries. The shadows were gone within a second, swirling by his side in concern for their mate. The hyperventilating was followed and paired with the sobbing, a sound he’d give anything to never hear again as you thrashed.

He gave you space for now, trying to decide between holding you close and risking triggering you feeling trapped again, or keeping his distance and you feeling alone.

The minute you began calling out his name as if he was far away as if you couldn’t see or feel him, his decision was made as he scooped you up, cradling your shaking body against his chest. His heart ached in a way not unfamiliar, but also much stronger and more vulnerable than ever before. He’d hurt you. His mate. His angel.

“I’m sorry, I’m here, right here and I'm not leaving.”

He spoke softly to you, shadows hesitantly grazing your skin in a comforting embrace as you babbled against his warm skin, hands holding onto him with such a vice grip that he could feel the little crescent moons your nails were digging into his back.

“You — you weren’t there, and I thought — you were gone -“

You choked out between frantic breaths and sobs. He should’ve known better. The bond always made the desires stronger for you, you’d both discovered that many nights ago. He’d been selfish and uncaring, undeserving of you.

“I’m here. Right here. Feel this? My heartbeat, it’s here, just listen to it.”

He spoke softly, taking your shaky hand and putting it against the major artery on his neck. That was often the way he managed to calm himself down from panic attacks, or just panicking in general, was his heartbeat. This seemed to work decently as your breathing slowed down, tears wiped away by his thumb as the final ones rolled down your cheeks.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned against him with your entire weight, feeling oddly exhausted now.

“Sorry. I-“

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for. I was being selfish and rude and ignorant of your feelings and I’m sorry.”

He cut you off and spoke, a fierce apology in his eye, clearly determined not to let you apologize at all, and also looking like a kicked puppy at what he’d done. You sniffled, arms tightening around him.

After a moment, he also added something.

“Don't be afraid to use the safe word, please. It's not enjoyable for me unless it is for you.”

“I know, I just…couldn’t think straight.”

“I understand. But I shouldn’t have gone that far either way. I’m sorry.”

He apologized again, looking immensely guilty and feeling terrible about what he’d done.

“It’s alright, I just want cuddles.”

You mumbled, and he happily obliged, laying down with you beside him, arms gently, loosely wrapped around you. Giving you plenty of room to breathe and have your own space, but you only snuggled further into him, fingers beckoning the shadows closer. They, too, joined the cuddles, wrapping around the both of you.

Wings intertwined and arms around each other, each breathing in the other's scent as it lulled you both gently to sleep, you drifted off, him soon joining you in your peaceful sleep.

Tags:

@marvelsmylife

@mischiefmanagers

@lilah-asteria

[alwaysmicado]

why her?

4.6k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: alcohol, mention of self-harm & bad mental health, complicated feelings Summary: Joel tells Tommy that he’s been seeing you. A/N: He had to find out eventually...This fic is part of You wanted this and takes place before Joel finds you at the beach in Sink or swim. Enjoy this little glimpse into the Miller brothers’ relationship and let me know what you think! ♡ Dividers by the wonderful @cafekitsune.

“I fucked up, Tommy,” Joel blurts out as he strides past his brother, his footsteps heavy with agitation. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Tommy murmurs, his brow furrowing in surprise as he closes the door before following his distressed brother into the living room. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy watches Joel’s restless pacing with a mixture of confusion and worry as, between the two of them, his older brother is usually the calm and collected one. Feeling the tension radiating off Joel in waves, a palpable energy that fills the light-flooded room, leaves Tommy feeling unsettled.

“I’m a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” Joel’s voice is raw with self-recrimination, his fingers rubbing furiously at his forehead as if trying to erase the mistakes he’s made.

“What else is new?” Tommy attempts to lighten the mood and get a feel for how much of a fuck-up he’s working with here, but when he catches Joel’s glare, his smile disappears immediately.

Oh.

“What happened?”

Joel shifts uncomfortably, his left hand finding its way to his hip while his right hand brushes anxiously over his lips, unconsciously trying to contain the words struggling to break free.

When he finally meets Tommy’s gaze, there’s a storm brewing in his eyes—a whirlwind of guilt, apprehension, and uncertainty. Before he can second-guess himself, the words he’s been wrestling with spill out in a rush, each syllable heavy with the weight of his confession.

“Look, I didn’t wanna tell you like this, but I’ve been seeing someone.”

Taken aback, Tommy stares at his brother with a confused look on his face. “Okay? How is that–”

“It’s, uh,” Joel starts, his voice reducing to a low murmur as he says your name with downcast eyes.

Hearing the sound of your name coming out of his brother's mouth startles Tommy to his core, and the image it invokes in front of his inner eye causes him to start laughing immediately, like Joel just said the punch line of a hilarious joke.

This has to be a crude joke...right?

But when Joel’s scowl doesn’t flinch after a few tense seconds, Tommy's face falls. 

“No,” he says quietly, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, no, no. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his face unmoving as he meets Tommy’s gaze head-on. “No, I’m not kidding.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” Tommy murmurs, his expression doing nothing to hide the horror he's feeling right now.

“Look, it’s–” 

“How long?”

“Tommy…”

“How long?”

Joel sighs deeply and rubs the nape of his neck with his hand. “A few months. Since your, uh, housewarming thing,” he admits reluctantly.

Tommy’s jaw drops in disbelief, his eyes widening with incredulity. “Are you fucking serious? The day you met her. Where I introduced you. Here. I introduced you. And you have nothing better to do than go and sleep with her?”

“I didn’t plan for it to happen, okay?” Joel insists, his calm tone a sharp contrast to his racing heart. “We started spending time together and I can’t explain how, but things just clicked between us. She’s...different, Tommy, and I–I don’t remember ever feeling this way about someone.”

Tommy’s expression shifts from disbelief to outright shock as he absorbs his brother's words. “Hold the fuck up,” he interjects with a lifted hand. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that you’re in love with her?”

Joel’s eyes flicker with a mixture of vulnerability and determination as he meets Tommy’s gaze, silently conveying the depth of his emotions. It’s a moment of raw honesty, baring his soul to his brother in a way that words could never fully express.

“Jesus,” Tommy mutters, shaking his head. “So you’re what, moving in together, getting married, living happily ever after? Is that what you’re fucking telling me?”

Joel's throat tightens and his heart flutters at the vivid image his brother’s sarcastic words conjure—the future he so desperately wishes for with you, the future he can feel slipping through his fingers with every tick of the clock on the wall.

He sighs deeply and murmurs, “It’s not that easy.”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not easy to fuck someone I love.”

“Hey–”

“No, you explain to me why it had to be her. There’s four billion women on this goddamn planet, and you couldn’t keep it in your pants this one time? For me?”

“It’s not about you, Tommy.”

“The hell it isn’t. She’s been part of my life for years. Mine. You wouldn’t even know her without me.”

“I realize that. And I understand that from the outside it might look weird–”

“Might?” Tommy blurts out. “What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you date someone that much younger than you, or even be interested in anyone in the past, I dunno, ten years. What the hell happened?” 

“She happened. Tommy, I’m listening to my heart for the first time in over a decade and I…I can’t help it that it’s her.”

“You’re losing it, man,” Tommy scoffs.

“It’s the truth. I saw her that night and that was it for me. I–you know her, she’s–”

“Yeah, I do. I do know her. And I also know that she doesn’t need someone who’s gonna play with her heart and hurt her even more. She’s had enough of that bullshit.”

“I know–”

“The fuck do you know? Huh? You know nothing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Tommy says, taking a step closer, “get a grip and buy a car if you’re having a midlife crisis. Go pay a hooker or play golf or whatever the fuck you gotta do, but don’t involve a vulnerable girl–” 

“Stop.”

“–just ‘cause you’re trying to relive your past and are confusing lust with love.”

Joel narrows his eyes. “Is that how little you think of me after everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve done for you? Tommy. Look at me,” he pleads, searching for connection in his brother’s eyes. “I get that you’re upset, I do. But you know me. And I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to believe that my feelings for her are sincere.”

Holding his brother’s gaze, Tommy is torn between apprehension and the undeniable sincerity he sees in Joel’s eyes. It’s maddening—the push and pull of trust and doubt, love and resentment. But beneath it all lies a deep-rooted fear, a fear of seeing two people he holds dear get hurt, a fear that claws at his heart.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration he mutters, “It’s not right.”

“Hm. You honestly don’t believe I could love her and she could love me?”

Tommy averts his eyes, shrugging and slowly shaking his head.

“What’s wrong with me? You think I’m too old? Boring? Unlovable?” Joel asks, his tone laced with bitterness, the warmth in his eyes gone. “Or am I just not good enough for her ‘cause I’m not you?”

Tommy stares at his brother with wide eyes like he just slapped him across the face. But after a second of stunned silence, he nods and spits out a venomous, “Fuck you, Joel,” before storming off into the kitchen, his footsteps echoing loudly against the tiled floor.

Feeling the weight of his brother’s accusation, he leans over the counter, his palms pressing firmly against the cool marble surface. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, the sting of Joel’s words lingering in the air like a bitter aftertaste.

For Tommy, his affection for you transcends the bounds of friendship, romance, or sexual attraction; it’s a connection, a bond he treasures. He feels responsible for you, like your life is tied to his in a way. But it’s a sentiment he keeps hidden, knowing that few would understand the depth and nature of his feelings.

And yet, Joel’s words hit closer to the truth than Tommy is willing to admit, even to himself.

Deep down, beneath the layers of brotherly loyalty and protective instincts, there is a sliver of possessiveness he can’t ignore. Maybe, just maybe, he does think that no one is good enough for you—not even Joel. But he buries this feeling under the weight of his sense of duty and care, knowing it’s a dangerous path to tread.

He sighs deeply, the sound heavy with the unspoken truths he carries. “No”, he thinks, shaking his head slightly, Joel doesn’t understand. It’s not about being good enough, or being in love, or jealous, or protective; it’s about the irreplaceable bond he feels with you.

It’s about knowing you.

And it’s about knowing his brother.

“Tommy,” Joel’s voice breaks the silence, his tone laden with remorse.

“I need a fucking drink,” Tommy responds curtly, his back turned as he busies himself with retrieving a whiskey bottle and a glass from the liquor cabinet.

Joel approaches and joins his brother in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watches Tommy pour himself a decent amount. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t meant to–”

“You know what, Joel?” Tommy turns to look at him. “I don’t care that you two are fucking. She’s an adult and if it makes her happy then so be it. What I do care about is that she’s started crying again.”

Joel blinks, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Tommy snaps, knocking back his drink and grimacing at the bitterness of the alcohol.

“She was crying at the bar yesterday. And she was crying on Saturday when she called me ‘cause she sliced her fucking hand open, begging me not to tell you and send you over to help ‘cause you were on a date.” 

Joel’s heart sinks like a stone as the weight of Tommy’s words settles heavily upon him. The thought that he wasn’t there for you while you were in pain has been gnawing at him all night and day, but hearing it from his brother cuts him to the core all over again, leaving him feeling utterly devastated.

“I’ve been trying to convince her to see her therapist to work through it, but she insists she’s fine when it’s clear as fucking day that she’s starting to spiral again. And you’re telling me you’re serious about her but she can’t even call you when she’s in trouble ‘cause you’re out with someone else?”

Tommy’s frustration is palpable as he stares at Joel, waiting for an explanation that might justify his brother’s actions. Joel’s hands tremble as he reaches out for the edge of the counter, his mind swirling with a torrent of regret and confusion. How could he have failed you in such a fundamental way?

A profound sense of guilt washes over him as he struggles to process the depth of his own shortcomings. He feels a lump form in his throat as he realizes the extent to which you must have felt alone and isolated, unable to turn to him for support.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. “Tommy, I swear, she–she wouldn’t talk to me, and yesterday I…fuck, I–I snapped at her ‘cause she wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong, and now she thinks I’ll abandon her when that’s the last thing I’d ever do. She’s shutting me out again and it’s killing me.”

Tommy silently observes his brother, and the sincere distress he can detect in his voice makes him uneasy, but also reassures him that he might actually be telling the truth about his feelings for you. “What the hell is going on, Joel?” he murmurs, his eyes full of concern as he scans his brother’s face.

“I messed up bad, Tommy. And I–” Joel swallows heavily, a pained expression on his face as he looks into his brother’s eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“You can’t do what anymore?”

“Act like I don’t wanna spend every second of every day with her. Like she isn’t all I ever think about.”

Joel's face softens and a smile spreads across his lips as he speaks the words his heart has known to be true all along. “Like I don’t love her.”

Tommy's heart skips a beat. “Shit.”

Joel scoffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. His younger brother’s always had such a way with words…

“Yeah. Shit.”

“You sure?”

“The sun rises and sets with her, Tommy.”

Tommy sighs deeply and closes his eyes for a moment before murmuring, “Get your ass out on the patio. I’ll go grab us some beers.”

Joel gives him a tentative smile. “Thanks, bud.”

“You’re welcome, jackass,” Tommy mutters under his breath as he heads toward the garage.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Tommy says incredulously with a furrowed brow after listening to Joel giving him a rundown of the past few months.

“You’ve been doing all that and you weren’t sure if she has feelings for you? Jeez, and here I always thought you were the smart one.”

Joel chuckles wryly, lifting his cold beer to his lips before replying, “Yeah, well, my brain doesn’t work when it comes to her.”

He glances down at the label on the beer bottle, a faint smile touching his lips as he absentmindedly traces the lettering with his thumb. “And it turns out I’m not cut out for the whole friends-with-benefits thing. Pretty sure catching feelings on the first night’s the one thing you’re not supposed to do.”

Tommy shakes his head as he lets his gaze wander over to the flowers Maria has painstakingly planted in their backyard. The vibrant colors seem to blur together, his thoughts consumed by the weight of the situation his brother has presented him with. He shifts uneasily in his seat, his fingers tightening around the neck of his beer bottle, the cool glass offering a small measure of comfort in the midst of his inner turmoil.

It’s clear that his mind is still trying to process the complexity of emotions swirling within him, and judging by the tension in his grip, it’s going semi-well.

“Why’d you even think something like that could work?” he murmurs between sips, his eyes following a bee flying from flower to flower. “You’re way too old to be acting like a brainless, horny teenager.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re not trying to lecture me about relationships, are you?” Joel scoffs, his tone tinged with playful sarcasm. “You? The guy who married a stripper he met on a three-day bender and ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere when she stole his car and disappeared?”

“Case in point, asshole,” Tommy retorts as he shoots his brother a pointed glare. “I was thirty then, you’re fifty now. You should know better.”

“Oh, so was that you knowing better when you had an affair with your landlord’s wife two years ago? Or when you had an affair with your dentist’s wife, or with that girl whose husband chased you down the street while you were butt naked? Or–”

“Okay, I get it,” Tommy interrupts, rolling his eyes. “You can shut up now.”

“You know, Maria accepting your proposal was the luckiest break for married men in this town.”

Tommy snorts at the jab, and Joel’s smirk widens as he glances at his brother before turning his attention back to his bottle.

“I just love spending time with her…in whatever form,” Joel continues, his tone softening as he speaks. “She's smart, funny, beautiful, calls me out on my shit, and I honestly feel like she lets herself enjoy herself around me. That's what I love the most. Seeing her smile, feeling her be happy.”

Tommy nods, his brother's sentiment one he knows all too well.

“We, uh, we never said we were exclusive or anything, so she’s been doing her own thing, and I know that. But I just haven’t really been interested in anyone else since meeting her.”

“Why’d you go out with Jan then?” Tommy asks between sips. “I only set you up ‘cause I thought you weren’t getting any and she’s going through a divorce and could use some cheering up.”

Joel lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting away as he searches for the right words. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I guess I was trying to prove to myself that I could keep it casual and see other people, too.”

Tommy studies his brother’s face intently, searching for any hint of deception in his eyes as he awaits an answer to his burning question. “And?”

Joel’s eyes drop to his lap, his expression guarded as he murmurs, “I couldn’t. I can’t.”

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Tommy’s tense features, a subtle pang of doubt creeping into his mind, but he decides not to probe further. With a resigned nod, he acknowledges Joel’s response.

“Okay. So, why are you here and not with her, trying to fix things?”

“She’s not answering me and I already tried looking for her, but she’s not home or at the office, and you’re the only pers–”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Tommy interrupts him, leaning forward in his chair. “You’ve been to her place before?”

“Yeah, of course. Many times,” Joel says with a curious look on his face, confused about why his brother is fixated on this seemingly minor detail.

“Unbelievable,” Tommy scoffs. “You have no idea what’s happening, do you?”

Joel’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. “I don’t follow.”

“Ask her how many people have been to her place since she moved there three years ago. Spoiler, it’s two, and they both have the same last name.”

As Joel processes Tommy’s words, his mind races with silent contemplation. He reflects on the trust you must have placed in him from the beginning.

His heart aches with the weight of his own actions, realizing how they may have strained this sacred trust, threatening to fracture the very essence of your connection. He silently vows to make amends, to prove himself worthy of the faith you have bestowed upon him, no matter the cost.

After a moment of continued heavy silence, Joel’s voice breaks through the tension. It’s time to rip the bandaid off. He has to know.

“Tommy?”

“Hm?”

“Did she hurt herself on purpose?”

Tommy’s exhale seems to carry the weight of the world as he responds, “Yes.”

“Why?” Joel’s question hangs in the air, the ache of confusion and concern palpable in his voice as he searches for understanding.

“Look, Joel,” Tommy says, his tone serious as he turns to look his brother in the eye. “There’s things you don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has issues, man. Real issues.” Tommy takes a swig of his beer and shakes his head as he holds the bottle in his lap.

“She’s much better than when I met her, but even after all this time I can’t shake this fear that she’ll just up and leave one day when things get bad again. And when she called me…I haven’t gotten a call like that from her in a long time and it scared the absolute shit out of me,” he admits, his eyes reflecting the love he holds for you and the helplessness he feels.

“I’ve had that fear too before,” Joel murmurs, his heart heavy at the mere thought of you leaving him.

Tommy scans his brother’s face and takes a deep breath. “Do you remember how messed up I was when I came back?” he asks. “With the drinking and the self-loathing and the getting into fights and all that bullshit ‘cause I didn’t know what to do with the dark thoughts in my head?”

“Yeah. It’s a miracle you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“I know. And she’s like me in a lot of ways. It’s just…while I directed my anger and hurt towards others, she directs it towards herself.”

Joel nods slowly, his mind flooded with memories of Tommy’s past struggles and the toll it took on both of them.

He remembers all too well how emotionally devastating it was to see his brother make bad decision after bad decision, and the thought that you’re similarly troubled by whatever it is that plagues you fills him with a deep sense of sorrow and the overwhelming desire to protect you from further harm.

“What happened on Saturday?” he asks, eager to understand what’s going on with you.

“Does she ever talk about Laura or Simon, her ex?”

“Um, yeah, once. He called her a couple of weeks ago.”

“What?” Tommy’s reaction is visceral, his body tensing as he sits up in his seat, his gaze locking onto Joel with intensity.

“He wanted to meet her, but she told him off and blocked him,” Joel explains, his brow furrowed at his brother’s reaction. “I calmed her down and we had a good talk, I felt like.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Tommy murmurs to himself, his eyes not leaving Joel. A subtle pang of jealousy settles in the pit of his stomach as he digests the fact that you confided in his brother instead of him. “You know what he did?”

Joel shakes his head. “Just that he hurt her deeply, but I didn’t wanna press the issue and ask for det–”

“Look, it’s not my story to tell, but I need you to understand something right fucking now. That piece of shit is dangerous and should be rotting in jail or a fucking ditch somewhere if it were up to me. And if he ever tries to contact her again, you make sure she’s safe first and then you call me second.”

Joel’s response is a firm, “Understood,” a testament to his implicit trust in his brother’s judgment about your ex, even without knowing the specifics of the situation.

Tommy has his flaws, but when it comes to the people he loves and wants to protect, he doesn’t fuck around. And neither does Joel.

“Trauma’s a cruel thing, man,” Tommy murmurs as he opens another bottle and takes a sip, the sound of the cap popping resonating gently in the quiet of the summer evening.

“You can be 'fine' for years and then bam, you run into someone from your past and it all comes rushing back. You know you’re not that person anymore, you know you’re safe, you know it’s over…but then there’s this tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you you are still the person you used to be and that no matter what you do, you can never escape that fact.”

Tommy sighs deeply, staring into his bottle.

“And now that I’m on the other side for once…it’s fucking awful to watch someone you love self-destruct.”

“Hm,” Joel responds quietly.

Tommy studies his brother's tired face, the dark circles under his eyes, his slumped form, and forces himself to look past his own anxiety and resentment.

“I still think this whole thing is a stupid fucking idea,” he murmurs, “but if you really do love her…”

Joel meets his brother’s eyes with a hopeful expression.

“You guys ever go to the beach?”

“No.”

Tommy smiles to himself, the fact that that’s still something only the two of you share making him feel a little better.

“It’s a special place. Decent chance she’s there.”

Joel lets out a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. “Thanks, bud,” he says, his voice infused with genuine warmth as he rises from his seat. With deliberate care, he sets the beer bottle down, the clink of glass against the table echoing softly in the stillness.

Joel’s hand extends, gently patting his brother’s shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. The touch is tender yet meaningful, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they share.

Making his way through the living room, Joel thinks to himself that this conversation went better than he imagined it would go. It seems that Tommy really has matured. Incredible. Maybe Joel needs to stop underestimating his little bro–

“Hey,” he suddenly hears from behind him as he’s almost reached the front door. “When we had you over for Maria’s birthday party and I saw you both heading upstairs…”

Ah, there it is. So much for maturing.

Joel turns around and looks at his brother with a raised eyebrow and an almost imperceptible smile that speaks volumes.

Right as Tommy’s chewing his brother out for being a 'perverted motherfucker', the front door creaks open, and Maria steps inside, her expression shifting from surprise to confusion at the sight of the two brothers standing there in what seems to be a heated exchange.

Joel’s smirk widens into a sheepish grin, while Tommy’s cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment, realizing the timing couldn’t be worse for such a conversation.

Maria’s eyes dart between the two men, her brow furrowing as she takes in the scene before her, her husband’s choice of words catching her off guard.

Tommy clears his throat, struggling to find the right words to explain the situation, while Joel attempts to suppress a chuckle, knowing full well the awkwardness of the moment.

Quick to react, Joel moves forward to greet his sister-in-law with a warm kiss on the cheek and a murmured apology. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, I gotta go,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief.

After the door closes behind him, Maria turns to Tommy, her head tilted inquisitively as if to ask, “What the fuck was that about?”

Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but instead he just sighs exasperatedly and shuffles back outside, the weight of the situation still heavy on his mind and heart. He plops down in his seat again, his expression somber.

Maria puts the grocery bags into the kitchen and then joins her husband on the patio, settling into the chair Joel occupied moments before.

“How was work, honey?” Tommy asks, his voice gentle as he tries to push his thoughts into the back of his mind.

“Oh, you know, Johnson’s still giving me a headache,” Maria replies with a heavy sigh, her frustration evident in the lines creasing her brow. “That asshole should’ve been disbarred years ago.”

She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to alleviate the stress that has been pressing down on her all day.

“And raspberry is making me nauseous, so that’s fun,” she adds with a tired smile, the weariness in her voice tempered by a hint of amusement.

Tommy smiles back at his wife, a soft glow of happiness illuminating his features at the mention of their unborn child, a precious secret they’ve been keeping for a little over a week now. With a tender gesture, he scoots closer to Maria, his hand instinctively drifting to her lower belly, his touch gentle and filled with a profound sense of wonder.

“So,” Maria says after a minute, her tone teasing yet affectionate, a self-satisfied smile playing on her lips as she tilts her head slightly, “they’re together?”

Tommy takes a big swig of his third beer, the cool liquid offering a brief respite from the warmth of the evening. He nods slowly, a sense of resignation mingled with a flicker of hope in his eyes.

“Yup,” he confirms quietly.

Maria chuckles, her laughter light and melodic as she puts her feet up on the little table in front of them, her eyes closed as she soaks up the warm rays of the setting sun.

“I told you.”

♡ Thank you for reading! ♡

previous • series masterlist • Joel masterlist

tag list: @dugiioh @eviestevie-14 @ghostofzion @joeldjarin @jupiter-soups

@koshkaj-blog @mattmurdockstateofmind @missladym @paleidiot @pattwtf

@pedritoferg @runningmom94 @serenadingtigers @sofiparallel @staywildflowahchild

@the-orange-tabby-cat @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods @yassspose @rarachelchel

let me know if you want to be added!

[festivalsofmargot]

Pining in Potions Class {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian Sallow is forming a huge crush on you, and it’s hitting him all at once in a very annoying way. Something as simple as not being partnered with you in potions class eats away at him. Gotta love some jealous Sebastian. Takes place after MC has met Anne and before completing his final mission. Some levity to enjoy being students with crushes.

Word Count: ~ 2,600

Warnings: None really, just some Hogwarts students crushing on each other from afar.

Author’s Note: You ever get in trouble with a teacher in class and look at your friend who’s trying not to laugh then you struggle not to laugh? That’s exactly the experience I was thinking of writing this haha. Come on, Sebastian Sallow and MC are the next Ron and Hermione, you can’t convince me otherwise. (Though I really head cannon over Sebastian and a hufflepuff) I wrote this so it was gender neutral and non house specific.

Songs (if interested): 

Hold Me Tight - Berlinist

She - dodie

WACKY - Matt Watson

Lady May - Tyler Childers

That day in potions class, Professor Sharp had told the students to partner up for the day’s brew, the focus potion. You and Garreth Weasley, being near each other already, looked at one another and gave an innocent shrug of your shoulders, agreeing to partner up.

Sebastian had partnered up with Natty and couldn’t help but glance your direction. He felt a pang of jealousy when he saw how close you and Garreth were standing when reading over the recipe in the text book. Quickly convincing himself he wasn’t bothered, he looked down at his and Natty’s station, trying to focus.

But he was bothered. You had still been around to help whenever he asked, but he couldn’t help feeling this distance starting to grow between the two of you. He had found himself coming up with any and every excuse to get you to help him with something, otherwise he didn’t think he’d be able to see you outside of class. He noticed you had a lot of assignments to do that required you to leave Hogwarts so he’s offered to go along to help. But every time he did you turned him down, saying you understood how busy he was with his research and would ask Poppy or Natty if you needed anything.

Today’s missed opportunity caused him to tap his fingers on the desk in annoyance as he looked over the ingredients. He wished he had some sort of a heads up if they were going to need partners in any of the classes they shared together. That way he could be proactive with where he sat next time.

“The reason I’ve partnered you up today,” Professor Sharp began, “is not because of the difficulty of the potion, the potion’s ingredients are few and very easy to keep balanced. The real challenge lies in the preparation of the ingredients. It will be strenuous work squeezing the juice from your dugbog tongues." The class made a collective sound of disgust which brought an amused smirk to the Professor’s face. 

Among the class’s sounds of repulsion, Sebastian heard you trying to stifle your giggles. His envy only grew when he realized your laughter was a response to something Weasley had whispered to you.

“Now, a slimy dugbog tongue will work fine, but a dried up tongue will make the potion not only more effective, it can last longer as well. Use the tools I’ve given to you to dry out the tongues, your arms will get tired so let your partner know when you need them to take over. Begin.”

Sebastian and Natty gave each other an inquisitive look, unsure of how to get started. 

“I guess we’ll start with the rolling pin?” Natty suggested, grabbing it and then making work of squeezing the juice out of the tongue. It was much harder than she expected. The more she rolled, the tougher it felt. “Whew! This is going to tire me out fast, be ready to switch, Sebastian.”

“Right.” Sebastian said. While he waited for Natty to finish her round, he couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering your way. He found it cute how you were trying to stand on your tiptoes when rolling out the dugbog tongue, hoping gravity would help you out if you were able to get more of your weight on it.

“Woah, Garreth.” You said, letting out an exhausted breath, feeling the burn in your arms. “Would you mind going to hang up my robes while I do my turn?” You asked as you shed the garment. You weren’t a stranger to physical labor, you knew when you were going to work up a sweat.

“No problem.” Garreth said, taking your robes and shedding off his own as well. “Was going to do the same myself. Not my first dugbog tongue, unfortunately.”

As Garreth walked off to the back of the class to hang up your robes, you rolled up your sleeves and got back to work.

Sebastian had a slight longing it was him who you had asked to hang up your robes as his eyes roamed up and down your backside. He didn’t think the school uniform fit anyone quite as well as it fit you. Realizing what he was doing, he mentally chastised himself and snapped his attention back to his table. At that point, Natty was holding out the rolling pin to him. He took it from her and she began shaking out her arms, seemingly too worn out to tease him if she had noticed his staring.

“Go as long as you can Sebastian, I might not have paced myself very well and overdone it.”

“Don’t worry, Natty. I got this.” Sebastian assured her, but as soon as he began rolling out the dugbog tongue he understood why everyone said it was so difficult. There was barely any squish to the thing! It was like trying to get orange juice from an orange made of marble. He poised himself, took a deep breath, and leaned forward, beginning his rolls again.

It had been a good few minutes of rolling when your laugh broke Sebastian’s focus, stealing his attention again.

“Garreth, stop it!” He heard you jokingly chide among the class’s chattering voices. While forcing himself to keep rolling, he looked over to see Garreth laughing with you, trying to get his hands on the roller while you were still giving a go at the dugbog tongue.

“Alright, we’ll do it together then if that’s what you want.” Garreth quipped. Sebastian’s stomach dropped when he saw the red head put both of his hands over yours on the roller to help put more force on the dugbog tongue.

“You’re a piece of work, Garreth.” You snickered, pulling away and playfully smacking his arm. Garreth shot you a sly smirk as he got into a better position to start his rolling.

“Don’t even try to hide it, you love having me as a potions partner already.” Though you shook your head at him, Sebastian noticed the amused smile gracing your lips.

Getting more fed up than tired, Sebastian stepped back from rolling and looked at Natty. “Alright, your turn.” He said with a huff. He took off his robes as well and offered to take Natty’s. 

Sebastian tried to catch your eye as he walked to and from the back of the classroom but to no avail, you were too focused on the dugbog tongue and Garreth’s jokes. He returned to his station and took the rolling pin back from Natty, his annoyance fueling him.

“You take over.” Garreth said, handing you the rolling pin. “I’m going to snag some dittany leaves.”

You let out a sigh at both beginning your rolls and what Garreth had just told you. Dittany leaves were not on the ingredient list and you both knew it. “Please stay here.” You pleaded.

This time, it was Sebastian who started to crack a smile as he eaves dropped on the two of you. Maybe Garreth can turn your oh so hilarious potions class into a nightmare. 

“Trust me, it’ll be a simple hybrid of a focus and wiggenweld potion.” Before you could protest further, Weasley had already darted towards the ingredient shelves.

You, not having the energy to call after him again, groaned and continued rolling. When he returned with a goofy smile on his face, you couldn’t fight back your guffaw at his ridiculous antics, letting out an adorable snort. “Garreth, I’m going to kill you.”

“Relax, I’ll take the blame if things go wrong. Just act like you didn’t know I added the leaves.”

Just as quickly as his smile formed, it vanished from Sebastian’s face. That was his move. He had taken the blame for you when you two got caught in the restricted section in hopes to impress you a bit. Surely taking the fall in the library was a lot more impressive than taking the fall for a potion mishap.

“Alright class, time is up on drying out the tongues. Go on and place all the ingredients in for your focus potion.” Professor Sharp instructed.

Sebastian and Natty put in their ingredients and began stirring, and sure enough, the pot turned the right shade of blue they needed. 

Suddenly, a whizzing noise came from yours and Garreth’s pot, grabbing everyone’s attention in the class including Professor Sharp’s. The whizzing noise grew louder and louder. The two of you looked at each other in panic, then out of the pot burst a small, smelly black cloud, giving a pathetic poot noise.

The whole class burst into laughter, including Sebastian. He couldn’t see your face because you were hiding it behind your hands, but he could tell you were laughing as well due to your shaking shoulders. Professor Sharp limped his way over to you and Garreth, the exhausted look on his face implied he knew it was more Garreth’s doing than yours.

It was then you finally looked Sebastian’s way, your face turning to a mix of hilarity and pain as you grabbed the side of your stomach from laughing too hard. You gave him a helpless face, hoping to convey to Sebastian how absurd working with Garreth was.

Sebastian gave you a smug look and began clapping his hands, “Well done.” 

You gave him a small smile and an oh well shrug and brought your attention back to Professor Sharp. 

The class had quieted down at the seriousness in Professor Sharp’s tone. As you and Garreth were getting a good scolding in front of everyone, Sebastian noticed you were biting the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from laughing further. He had to quickly look down to his feet, sealing his lips together as tightly as he could to stop any chuckles of his own from coming through. 

As much as he didn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with Professor Sharp, he couldn’t help but want to be in Garreth’s position. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that. He wanted to be the one who’s arm you playfully smacked. He wanted to be your partner in crime.

You made him feel a levity he hadn’t felt since Anne got cursed. Something about you drew him in and he found himself at ease whenever you were around. At first he didn’t like it, convinced himself you made him lose focus on finding a cure for his sister. But after everything you’d done so far to help him, realizing his sister had just as much fun around you as he did, and witnessing how willing you were to go into the unknown, he realized you were progressing things more than anything.

“Let’s be grateful it was only dittany leaves you added, Mr. Weasley.” Professor Sharp reprimanded, then turned to make his way back to his desk. “Well, with that rather exciting end to class, you’re all dismissed.”

As everyone made their way out of class, you and Garreth stayed behind to clean up the mess he caused.

Sebastian kept an eye on you in his peripheral vision as he and Natty gathered their robes and slipped them back on. He took this chance to grab yours and bring them over.

“Aw thanks, Sebastian. You shouldn’t have, I really appreciate it.” Garreth wisecracked as you and him were scrubbing the table.

“Shut up, Weasley.” Sebastian said with a chuckle, handing him his robes, then held up your robes so he could help you into them.

Your scrubbing slowed to a stop and a blush creeped up your neck. Sebastian had never done anything like this before. You tried to calm yourself as you turned and let him help you get your robes on. 

Shrugging them on, you turned and thanked him. You met his expectant gaze and, after a moment, realized he was waiting for you to finish up so you could walk to your next class together. “Oh, um... you may have to go on without me. It might take us a while to finish up here.” 

You also needed a second to yourself to breathe because Sebastian’s gesture had thrown you for a loop. He needed to be careful doing things like that, because you’d look too much into it and convince yourself he liked you back. The thought of burdening him with your feelings seemed so selfish. He had a cursed sister to help, he didn’t need some new Hogwarts student pining for him and making his life more complicated. He was already taking time out of his day to help you catch up on spells, no way you could ask any more of him.

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel disappointed, and it showed on his face. “Alright.” He rocked back and forth on his feet awkwardly. “I suppose I’ll... catch up with Ominis and see you in charms then?”

You gave him a smile and simple nod of your head. “See you there.”

He forced a smile back then slowly made his way out of the potions classroom, kicking the dirt at his feet as he went.

You got back to cleaning with Garreth, who was staring after Sebastian. Then he looked to you, “Well, that was downright awkward.”

You could only cringe. “Sorry, Garreth.”

“No need to apologize to me. It was Sebastian’s heart you broke back there, not - ow!” He was cut off when your elbow jammed into his ribs. 

“Shut up and help me clean.” Deep down you were hoping it was true that Sebastian was disappointed he couldn’t walk with you to class. You wanted to live in that fantasy even just a little. But, realistically, he probably wanted to update you on what he found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book since he couldn’t speak about it with Ominis.

The blush made its way back when you began to think about his forearm muscles flexing as he was rolling out his and Natty’s dugbog tongue. You were extra thankful you partnered up with Garreth, there was no pressure and he had made it fun. If you had partnered with Sebastian, you would have been a bumbling mess, unable to focus on the assignment. Probably would have had to reread the ingredients a few times over even though there were only three items. Merlin’s beard, you were hopeless.

Lately, it had been difficult for you to be around Sebastian. He had been making you so nervous, it was beginning to get frustrating. You wish you could go back to how it was when you first met. You were so overwhelmed trying to catch up with the other fifth years, you couldn’t overthink things when you were together even if you wanted to. But you’ve been getting the hang of things and excelling in your coursework, wielding magic became second nature. You didn’t need to put all your focus on classes anymore, so that freed up a lot of room in your mind for Sebastian.

With a defeated sigh, you and Garreth finished cleaning up your potions station. You grabbed your books and waved goodbye. As soon as you left the classroom, you looked up to see Sebastian leaning against the wall. He had decided to wait for you after all.

He pushed up off the wall and walked up to you, a smile spreading across your face. He took the quickest glance at your lips, catching himself before he could linger. Without warning, he grabbed your books and began walking away.

“Shall we?” He asked over his shoulder.

You pursed your lips as you watched him. Surely nothing to get your hopes up over, right? Right, surely nothing. Then you moved to join his side.

[gwnwrites]

Love Potions | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: Sebastian drinks an Amortentia potion… on purpose.

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: None

A/N: No use of Y/N and can be read as a GN!Reader x Sebastian. I hope you enjoy! (This is set in 6th year) Part 2 is linked at the end.

—

“So we won’t even know if we have brewed it correctly until classes return?” Ominis wondered out loud. He leaned against one of the empty brewing tables. “I guess so,” you replied. Sebastian picked up the vial to examine the potion.

“There’s one way to find out.”

“Sebastian,” you warned, taking a step toward him. “Hand over the Amortentia or I’ll have take it from you.”

He grinned at you. “You can try. We both know you won’t be able to.”

“Seb-“

Ominis sighed, “He drank the potion, didn’t he?”

“My love, how are you on this fine day?”

“Does that answer your question, Ominis?” you said. The blonde Slytherin placed his head in his hands.

“Great,” he mumbled. Ominis knew that you had liked Sebastian since he covered for you in the library. The blonde boy also knew that your feelings had only grown since then.

“I suggest we find Professor Sharp quickly,” Ominis said.

—

Out of all of the Professors at Hogwarts, Professor Garlick was your favourite. She was also the first teacher you found while searching for one.

“Professor,” you called out. She wore her hat over her head, and her hair was in her usual braids. Her dress complimented the shade of green on her hat. “Ah, my favorite students. How can I help you, dears?”

“Professor, we were brewing amortentia and Sebastian-”

She lifted her hand to stop you. “No need to explain further, dear. Follow me.”

—

You and Ominis collected the ingredients as Professor Garlick had asked. And she prepared the cauldron. Of course, Sebastian followed you into the neighbouring greenhouse.

“You really look beautiful today, darling.”

You felt your face warm up. “Thank you.”

“-And I’ll tell you everyday for the rest of my life.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t complained about Sebastian yet,” you nudged Ominis as you met him back in the main greenhouse.

“Oh, I’m used to-” he became silent.

“Used to what?” You looked at him.

“I’ve prepared the cauldron. Let’s start preparing the ingredients.” Professor Garlick interrupted before you got an answer from Ominis. You suspected that you wouldn’t have anyway.

After preparing the ingredients, Professor Garlick put them in the cauldron, following her Potions book. The liquid turned a different colour each time she added an ingredient.

You spoke with the professor as you waited. Sebastian spoke about you with Ominis.

After half an hour, the cure was brewed.

“I think it’s best that you give this to him, dear.” The professor gave you the cure that she bottled in a small clear vial. You looked over at Sebastian.

He was sitting on the steps leading to the exit of the greenhouse. He had been watching you with adoration as you helped the professor with the cure.

You approached him. “Seb?”

“Yes, darling.” Darling.

“This is for you,” you said. You have him the cure. He frowned at it. “What is it, love?”

You gave him a small smile. “Nothing bad. I promise.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged, and he drank it.

You thought you would’ve had to persuade him more. It seems the Amortentia had gotten rid of his stubbornness.

After drinking the potion, he sat a little straighter. He frowned at the empty vile, his gaze followed to you, Ominis and Professor Garlick.

“I- thank you, but- excuse me,” he said. He swiftly got up, and left the greenhouse. “Sebastian!” you called after him.

You needed to go after him. You quickly turned to the herbology professor. “Thank you, Professor.”

—

-> Part 2

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 32 “A Worthy Opponent” [Episode List] Dave is back at the warehouse and filming another short “fart porn” clip for Greg. As he keeps blasting Tom, his co-worker and fart sniffer, a masked man steps into the set…

Greatly influenced by this suggestion.

Reminder: Tom was introduced in Episode 14.

POV: Dave

Alright, just like I did last time, it’s all good.

Getting paid to fart in someone’s face? Easiest money I’ll ever make in my life.

My friend Greg, the wannabe movie director, wanted me for another fart porn film.

Yes, that’s an actual thing, this is my life now… a small part of it at least.

You know me, I’m a chill dude, though before accepting such task some months ago I wanted to make sure there were some lines that we shouldn’t cross. To be honest, however, the more I worked with Greg, the more I got used to all of this gross kinky stuff.

I mean, that sounds hypocrite, I’m aware: I’m an incredibly skilled straight farter who continuously face-farts his friend and roommate, fully knowing the he has a fart fetish, and even before that I’ve always been a proud farter, and rightfully so.

Also, I spend too much time on the Internet, so I’m well-versed in gross stuff.

With Tim, however, it’s different.

Here there are cameras, people telling me how I need to fart (seriously!), people I barely know but, truth to be told, who gives a shit? It’s just business, a business that revolves about farting, so you could say that my ass shits gold, almost literally.

Plus, I already got a Tim in my fart-victim collection: a Tom always sounded like the next logical step, the next Infinity Sniffer. You can starting calling me Thanus at this point.

So here I am, back at the warehouse, in this fake living room, wearing a pair of shabby grey sweatpants, cautiously sitting on Tom’s face. 

Tom, my co-worker and professional fart sniffer.

He was lying on this couch in the middle of the set, face up, his nose perfectly aligned with my asscheeks already.

He didn’t say a word or move a muscle: this guy is a pro for real. I still don’t know if he actually has a fart kink or not. What I do know is that I did blast him even when we weren’t working once. 

What can I say? My farts are too good to be wasted!

As of now, I sat on him and adjusted my position, spreading my legs wide, to ease the next fart out and, according to the script, “to showoff my manly bulge”. Thanks, I guess?

I lean just a bit and I effortlessly rip the first fart of the session, a natural blast I’ve been brewing for a couple of minutes. The warm gas passed through the fabric of my sweatpants and soon Tom’s face was imbued with my poisonous flatulence.

“Fuck yeah.” I said, as the loud blast kept going. “Don’t choke on that you fag.”

Hey, I didn’t write the script!

I could feel and hear Tom taking deep whiffs of that fart. I wiggled my ass in response, an improv which he seemed to enjoy, both professionally and… kinkly?

This blast lasted around 6 seconds. A good one don’t get me wrong… but you know what I’m truly capable of…

I noticed Greg from behind the camera giving me a thumbs up, mouthing my next line.

“Alright you filthy slave, you better open up.”

Tom obeyed. I leaned once again and spread my legs even wider, my anus aligning with my co-worker’s mouth.

Another home-run, another loud fart, I didn’t even need to push that much. I’m ridiculously good at this, I swear. It feels stupid to brag about farting skills but trust me, as soon as I finish ripping one of my huge farts, my body is already brewing the next one. I got a quick reload.

Tom’s face was shaking and this time, for real, he almost choked on my gas, as I felt him move. And when even Tom, who’s usually stone-cold while working, flinches, I know I did a good job.

I saw Greg talking to his assistant: he seemed angry. In that moment, behind me, the fake door of the fake living room opened without warning. Was this an unscripted moment?

I stopped farting and turned around, kind of forgetting that I was sitting on Tom’s face.

Someone stepped into the set, another man, around my age, tall and skinny. I couldn’t see his face as he was wearing some kind of black ski mask. His clothes were as casual as mine (a red t-shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans).

He didn’t look friendly, yet the moment he saw me, he kind of froze on the spot for a few moments.

Is Greg making a farter-slasher movie all of the sudden? Not that I’d complain! Sounds camp-y enough to me.

I gave an inquisitive look to my director-friend, who promptly stopped filming.

“C-cut!” he yelled. “Alright, we got our first farts.” he said, as he walked towards me. “N-now, make room for the other farter of this session.” 

I gave him a puzzled look. “Other farter?”

“Duh!” Greg replied, as he pulled me out of the set, impatiently. “You thought you were the only person capable of ripping ass?”

Honestly, kind of?

I mean, I don’t think about farts 24/7, but I do know that I’m pretty good at it. Ask Tim.

“Are you replacing me?” I bluntly asked.

Not gonna have a fight over… farting, that’s for sure. And I’m not even mad, I was just taking those extra bucks for granted.

“Don’t be jealous.” he replied, as he let me sit next to him, next to the director himself, as if I was one of the crew.

I watched as this masked guy stepped on the couch and squatted over Tom’s head, just as the poor guy was getting used to fresh air again. I guess this is his lucky day, assuming that he does have the kink.

“Action!” I almost went deaf when Greg screamed that.

The masked guy was basically another master and he acted accordingly.

“Here you go, fag. Got something for you to taste…” 

The fart that followed was very loud and echoed in the whole warehouse. On one hand, when I’m not the one torturing a poor soul with farts, yeah, it’s pretty gross. On the other, as a man, I gotta tip my imaginary hat to a fellow talented farter. The blast was nowhere as long as mine, but holy shit.

This other “master” was way more dominant than I was, way more natural I’d say.

“If you wanted a master, you could just ask…” I whispered into Greg's ear, sounding way more flirty than I intended to be, which almost made me laugh.

“You can’t be a master like him.” he firmly replied. “You’re too nice.”

Should I be offended? I really don’t know anything anymore at this point.

“Fire in the hole!” the masked master yelled, just as he ripped another loud fart down Tom’s throat.

I admit this guy’s voice sounded quite familiar, despite his best effort at trying to sound much deeper.

“Do we know this guy?” I asked Greg. The question almost startled him.

“Uhm. No idea.”

Ok, liar ahead. Clearly we know this guy then.

I will get to the bottom of this… after I put this masked guy to his place.

POV: Tom

Fuck. 

Dave’s farts were already impressive, but this masked guy’s blasts are really hard to endure, really pushing the limits of my kink. Those farts sound utterly gross, almost wet, and they smell horribly. I like working with Dave because, among other things, his roaring ass is loud but when it comes to stench, I can easily inhale those.

This guy… I have no idea who he is, Greg refused to introduce us for some reason, but I decided to trust him: I think I made a mistake. The rough surface of his skinny jeans is almost scraping my face.

Another fart erupted right into my nostrils, renewing the already terrible stench. It smells like… spoiled milk? I don’t know, it’s nauseating, I feel like I’m drowning in a sewer. I’m always very calm and composed when I’m… working, but I wasn’t ready for this I admit it.

“You’re such a bitch, I knew you couldn’t handle it.” the man said, ripping another loud, short rip.

If this guy doesn’t get up soon, I’m probably gonna choke in my own puke.

“Alright, that’s enough, get the fuck out of here.”

I heard Dave say, walking towards us, and I was relieved.

The masked man got up, my eyes adjusting to the spotlight shining over the set. I took a deep breathe of (relatively) fresh air, but anything was better than that. 

I managed to recognize Dave’s silhouette, towering over me.

“That was cute. Now let me show how a pro does it.”

Great. I’m basically the city you see in the background of kaijū movies while the monsters fight each other. You know the city, right? The city that usually gets completely leveled by the huge creatures?

I guess that’s my role for today.

Let’s get it over with.

As I said, Dave’s farts are huge but I’d take anything over that other guy’s gas.

I quickly took more deep breaths… before letting Dave sit on me again.

POV: Dave

“That was cute. Now let me show how a pro does it.”

I don’t know who this guy is, but if he really wants to do this, a fuckin’ fart challenge, then he’s gonna get blown away.

Well, not him, rather, my good pal right here on the couch.

“Alright…” I whispered to Tom. “Get ready bro. I’m gonna rip some huge ones and act like an asshole for a bit.”

I earned a puzzled look from him. “An asshole?” he paused for a moment. “But… you’re too nice.”

Oh great, now the sub tells me how lovey-dovey I am, perfect!

I stepped on the couch, not caring how my feet was crushing Tom’s chest, and squatted over his face, my fabric-clad anus tickling the tip of his nose. As I said, I’m always brewing a big one, and having a quick cheeseburger before coming here surely helped.

Once again, effortlessly, my ass started roaring, loud and unstoppable. As I kept pushing this one out, I maintained eye-contact with the mysterious masked challenger, who could only watch haplessly as I showed him what real talent looks like.

“Open wide, fag. This is far from over.”

Tom took it like a champ, inhaling deeply for the camera -I don’t even know if we started filming again. 

All I know is that my farting skills are a sight to behold… and to sniff, in Tom and Tim’s case at least.

Ahah… I’ll never understand this gross kink, but I gotta admit, if I had this fetish, and my best bro and roommate was, well, me, I’d probably be as thirsty as Tim is. So yeah, in a disgusting way… I get it.

And just like that, 12 seconds passed. Long, but not as long as my best ones, I can do even better than this… but I play fair so, after brushing my sweaty sweatpants ass on Tom’s face, I stood up and crossed my arms, eyes glued on my rival. 

“Your move, beanpole.” 

It’s ridiculous how seriously I’m taking all of this, but I can get quite competitive.

The masked master laughed and… lied on the floor. He held one leg up… that’s a position I’m quite familiar with. Surprisingly enough, he started sucking air in, right through his jeans. That’s a great talent I gotta say, I thought I was the only one who could fart on command so easily. 

A worthy opponent, at long last!

After a few seconds, the man stood up, proud and tall and, just like I did earlier, treated Tom as if he was part of the couch, and sat on his face. His eyes glued on me, I could tell there was a smug mile making fun of me under that ski mask.

The fart that followed was quite impressive and loud, but still not as massive as the ones I’m able to produce. This guy was good, no doubts about it. I’m pretty sure Tim would fall in love with him (the thought of that made me visibly laugh, putting a dent in the menacing aura I was trying to convey).

You know what, fuck this. It’s not worth it. 

But since I’m already here, and I’m able to rip huge farts both naturally and on command, I guess I could simply… well… join the fun, you might say.

I’m sure Tom will understand.

POV: Tom

The masked guy’s fart, despite being on command, was as foul as the one before. Dave’s blasts weren’t a cakewalk by any means, and they’re still much louder, deeper and stronger overall, but whatever this guy ate was doing numbers in his stomach. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans but he could very well be naked for how much my nostrils were burning. 

The stench of Dave’s previous farts mixed with the rotten eggs-flavored gas this guy’s anus was blowing in my face and, truly, I started to think that this was a big test that Greg set up just for me, for some insane reason. If I survive this, I’m gonna kick his ass.

After around 9 seconds, the flatulence’s loudness faded out, essentially turning into a classic silent-but-deadly.

The man raised his ass just a bit, to make sure I could breath a bit of fresh air before the next one.

I turned my head and I could see Dave approaching the couch again.

Okay, it’s the other kaijū’s turn I assume.

Funnily enough, this is actually good ne-

...

Wait.

Why isn’t the other guy stepping aside?

“If it’s a show you want, Greg, a show you’ll get.” Dave boasted.

The farter above me finally moved, but just a bit, his ass still covering half of my face, hovering over my mouth.

The reason he moved, however, wasn’t altruistic by any means: instead, he had to make room for Dave’s ass, which ended up being planted directly onto my eyes instead.

Just... just fuckin’ do it you gassy bastards.

“Hey fag, it’s your lucky day.” the masked guy said.

“Good thing you have two nostrils: one of each anus.” Dave said.

Whether they were improvising or not wasn’t important, because their asses certainly weren’t.

Dave’s ass started speaking first, erupting his deep warm gas into my eyes. Mere seconds later, the other ass started talking as well, its fart being more high pitched. The sounds mixed together like a symphony and after a few moments I couldn’t tell which anus was being louder, ‘cause they both were. 

I became part of the couch as those two asses kept crushing me, farting loudly. My face couldn’t endure that barrage of farts any longer, as the farters kept cycling between either loud series of farts, or single long ones. The stench... I felt like they were taking a shit on me, I could taste that thick gas and even guess what they ate for lunch.

It was getting hot, too hot, and I started breathing more heavily, which only meant I got to ingest more of that poisonous gas. 

And yet, my massive boner betrayed my disgust.

While my eardrums were getting crushed by those farts, I could still manage to recognize Dave’s fart being the loudest: the man found a worthy opponent, sure, but he still owns the crown, no doubts about it.

“And for the big finale…” I heard the King say.

Dave lowered his sweatpants, exposing his sweaty bare ass (the masked farter kept his jeans on instead), and ripped a short, yet very loud toot, drops of sweat being blown onto my face and teary eyes (for the smell).

The two remained there for a few seconds, finally in silence from both ends, letting me inhale those last particles of gas, even though I’m pretty sure my skin merged with their farts on sub-atomic level, then they finally got up and shared a high-five.

Much to my surprise, the two men then turned back to me and helped me sit down, and they both high-fived me as well.

I guess a fart master is nothing without someone willing to sniff it all.

I appreciate the respect.

The mutual respect.

POV: Dave

After taking a much-needed shower and putting my civilian clothes back on (my usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of loose jeans), I cleared things up with Greg. 

He admitted he messed up things up with the schedule, and that indeed there was another “master” audition today, but he really enjoyed our improv and filmed everything, and thus the editors are pretty satisfied with what we managed to film today.

He also told me that, indeed, the mysterious farter is “a common friend” who didn’t want to be recognized.

No hard feelings with Tom either, obviously.

Now, time to tie up one last loose end.

I went outside, on the back of the warehouse, where I knew I could find my masked rival. He was checking his phone sitting on a shabby couch, an old prop that the crew moved here after they bought a new one for the set.

Basically, glorified comfy garbage.

“Hey, fire-in-the-hole-guy! I knew I’d find you here… that’s there they put the trash after all.” I said, with a smug smile.

The man shook his head and laughed. “Greg told you?” he asked.

I walked towards the couch and sat next to him, wrapping my right arm around his shoulder.

“You thought I woudn’t recognize your beautiful eyes, Adam?” I joked, acting all flirty (and hopefully annoying).

He  punched my shoulder and took his mask off.

Indeed, it was Adam all along.

He laughed a bit more.

“I didn’t know you were working with Greg.” he said. “Finally, you can make money from the one thing you're good at!"

“Very good at.” I corrected him.

I was going to fart to prove my point, but Adam seemed worried about something.

“I kind of needed those extra bucks you know...”

“Why is everything gravitating towards farts lately…” I thought out loud.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing, forget about it.” I quickly said. “Extra bucks you said?”

“Yeah, as gross as it sounds, I thought I could make some quick money out of… whatever Greg’s doing here.”

“Hey, not judging bro!” I reassured him. “I mean, I’ve been doing this for a couple of months.”

“Does Dana know?” he asked.

“Nah, I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Tim, he’d probably be jeal-“ 

I bit my tongue just in time, even though I didn’t really think he’d get jealous. I was just trying to make a joke I swear!

“Jealous?” my friend inquired. “Jealous of what?”

“…Uhh… jealous of my success, obviously!”

Adam didn’t seem too interested in the conversation anyway, luckily enough, so he didn’t find anything suspicious about my not-so-harmless joke about my roommate.

“That’s envy, not jealousy, you idiot.” he observed.

Never mind.

A few dozens of seconds of silence followed. Adam wasn’t exactly a talkative guy, and he does have a job and all, but if he needs extra bucks, maybe I could help.

“I’m sure we can arrange something with Greg.” I stated.

“Mh?” 

“Yeah, you can fart on Tom on Tuesdays, while I can do it on Wednesdays.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” Adam admitted.

“Yeah.” I patted his shoulder. “From great farts, come great responsibility.”

We remained there, on that smelly (not because of us) couch, for a few more minutes, as if all that fart-talk was the most mundane thing in the world.

“Doing something tonight?” Adam asked.

“Dana and Tim are out of town, so probably nothing. You?”

“There’s a good pub a few blocks from here. Care for a beer?”

“Always.” I simply said, as we both stood up, and started marching towards our new destination.

“Easy bro.” Adam said. “I’m not gonna drag your drunk ass back home.”

“I can handle way more beer than you, pal!” I said.

“Yeah, in your dreams maybe.” he replied.

“Alright. Ready to lose against me for the second time today?” I threatened him.

“Lose?” he scoffed. “It was literally just far-“ 

I cut him off by ripping a huge, natural blast, staring at him with a smug grin. The fart easily echoed in the alley and I’m pretty sure they heard it downtown. It was short and sweet, you might say.

4 loud, proud seconds.

“I’m sorry.” I said. “You were saying?”

Adam laughed in response. “Fine, you won whatever that was back in the warehouse.” he admitted. “But I’m still not gonna drag your sorry drunk ass back home later.”

You know me, I’m a chill guy, but if you tease me, I can get very competitive.

I again wrapped my arm around his shoulder: “If it’s a show you want, Adam, a show you’ll get.”

Nah… maybe I’m too nice.

The End

[bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry]

You guys know what? I’m gonna talk about a tsams AU that I’ve been brewing before I start posting art about it

Ok so the AU is what if one of the Bloodmoon twins is an eldritch creature or something of that nature, having been small when they latched on to the other Bloodmoon’s mind, now the Bloodmoon that is eldritch is the only one of the two left and he needs to collect energy somehow so he makes Lunar his new brother (calls him baby brother) and hijinks ensues while Lunar has to figure out what how to continue on with his regular life but with a super clingy eldritch being that calls him his baby brother that also drains power causing hunger, oh and he has to deal with the fact Bloodmoon can and will destroy anything that hurts his baby brother.

In this AU there is also potential for a sibling like relationship between Bloodmoon and the other celestial family members but he’d still be clinging on to Lunar the most.

I will be posting art of this AU eventually once I get things sorted in my head about the story, also may or may not be writing fanfic but I should really continue my other fics so we shall see.

You know what screw it you get to see the first image I made of the AU, just some sibling cuddles now I pass out, enjoy

[snugglyducklingbrewhouse]

we play with fire because we like the way it burns

a mob boss!Nico x nurse!fem!reader au

You’ve got some explaining to do

Warnings: mob business, guns and gunshots, Luke getting injured, fuzzy memory, I think that’s it. Please tell me if I missed something

A/n: here is the second installment! Basically a continuation of movie night, ruined. Enjoy!

Masterlist

1.06k words

You were so grateful that you had today off. You don’t think you would have been able to leave Luke alone in your apartment after last night.

After a pretty restless night spent worrying about Luke, you finally gave up on falling back asleep and got out of bed.

You made your way to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee, for both you and Luke.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, you quietly went through the motions of making coffee. You were grateful that you had coffee grounds handy and didn’t need to grind beans. The less noise you made, the better.

After the coffee had brewed and you grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, you heard some shuffling and grumbling from the living room.

Moments later, a tired Luke made his way into the kitchen.

“What the hell happened last night?” He asked, making his way to you and his mug of coffee.

You gave him an incredulous look, “I was going to ask you that.”

Luke took his first sip of coffee, savoring the flavor and warmth.

“There was a meeting between Nico and some business owner or something like that,” he started. “Jack usually goes along to those types of meetings. For some reason, I was there. But I think it was some sort of setup. Next thing I knew, we were ambushed.”

“And you or Jack mentioned that I was a nurse?” You asked, mentally filling in the blanks because you knew your best friend well.

“Yeah,” Luke replied. “And we were not too far. The rest is just hazy. But I do remember you patching me up.”

“Some things never change,” you said, referencing your time in college spent taking care of him.

“Did you really offer your nursing skills to my boss next time someone gets hurt? Or did I imagine that?” Luke asked, genuinely confused.

“Oh, ummm…” you trailed off, hiding behind your coffee mug and taking a sip.

“Don’t avoid the question,” Luke sassed you.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Yes I did.”

“My best friend becoming a mob nurse was not on my bingo card for the year, but here we are,” Luke cracked a joke.

You gently shoved him. “Nothing’s official. I just told Jack to reach out to me if you or someone else gets hurt. It’s not like I’m quitting my job or anything. You know I love the rush of the ER when it gets crazy.”

“Yeah but fishing bullets out of bodies can be a rush,” Luke said.

“I’m not a surgeon,” you corrected. “And I better not be fishing out bullets out of you. I will kill you. And tell your mother.”

Luke’s eyes went wide at the mention of Ellen. “Did you really threaten to tell my mom about Atlantic City?”

You giggled lightly. “Yup. And I will gladly use that card again until you give up and tell her yourself.”

“You, me, and Jack all promised to never speak of it again,” Luke groaned.

“Yeah, to each other,” you sassed. “You know me. You should have seen this coming.”

“Fair enough,” Luke shrugged, dropping the subject.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up again.

“So I’ve heard the stories, but Nico doesn’t seem that scary,” you said.

Luke nearly choked on his coffee.

You went into nurse mode and grabbed water from the fridge for him.

“Thank you,” he said after he took a few sips and you went back to your mug to get a refill.

“So what I’m hearing, is that you like my boss,” Luke said, shit-eating grin on his face.

It was your turn to choke as your eyes grew wide and you started stuttering while you tried to explain yourself.

“I, uh, I, uhhh…” you trailed off before collecting yourself. “I just wasn’t intimidated by him. I was too focused on helping you.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Luke agreed apprehensively.

“Besides,” you started, “I definitely bossed him around last night since I was in trauma mode, so he probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Wait,” Luke said, gears turning in his head. “You gave my boss orders?”

You nodded, a nervous smile on your face.

“Now I wish I was more alert for that,” Luke said honestly. “No one ever bosses him around and gets away with it. You must be special if he didn’t snap at you.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just your best friend. Nothing special.”

“You also became our official nurse,” he pointed out.

“For the last time, it’s not official,” you said, exasperatedly.

“I might have joined within the past year, but if Nico let you boss him around, you are definitely special,” Luke explained.

You rolled your eyes yet again. “I’m so sick of being told I’m special then have my heart broken. So I’ll pass. I’ll just patch you and your brothers up when needed and stay as far away from Nico’s attention as necessary.”

“I was right,” Luke said triumphantly. “You do like him.”

“I said no such thing,” you fought back.

“I know you and you’re not denying it,” Luke egged you on.

You set your mug down in a huff. “Fine. Maybe, kinda, yeah, sorta. But he probably doesn’t see me that way.”

“You never know unless you shoot your shot,” Luke gave you encouragement.

“As long as you keep your mouth shut and don’t tell Jack. I’ll tell him I like him if I still like him once I get to know him. And don’t rush me into saying anything. I only met him last night.”

“Still, you interacted with him enough to know you like him,” Luke kept pushing your buttons.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” you mumbled.

Luke moved to get a refill of his coffee after taking too much time to annoy you.

“Should we tell Jack that you’re fine and up and moving?” You asked.

“Nah,” Luke said. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

“I am not discussing how hot I think your boss is with you!” You tell him.

“Ha!” Luke exclaimed. “I knew you thought he’s hot.”

“Let me just dig myself into a deeper hole,” you mumbled with your cheeks flushed.

It was going to be a long morning if Luke didn’t stop harassing you about your crush on Nico.

[thornybubbles]

Playing Minecraft with the Stardust Crusaders

**Note: Originally I was going to have this be a story with just Kakyoin, but I decided to add the rest of the Stardust Crusaders. Also I decided to just do headcanons instead of writing a full story. I’ve been writing a lot of dark yandere stuff and I just wanted a break. So here’s something wholesome. PS. Polnareff’s part was my favorite to write. XD **

Joseph

He may be an old man, but he’s not completely out of touch when it comes to the concept of video games. It takes him a little bit to learn how to play, but once he gets the hang of it, there’s no stopping him. Joseph’s building skills are pretty basic. He’s more interested in the survival and exploration elements of Minecraft. Once he gets his house built, he does a little mining to get a full set of iron armor, weapons, and tools and then he’s off to explore. He’s almost never seen around the main base and spends most of his time many, many blocks away, discovering cool things. He will often ask questions about things he’s unfamiliar with and you explain it to him. Sometimes he hardly speaks at all because he’s too enamored with all the stuff he’s discovering. 

Then there was the “Creeper Incident”. Joseph made the mistake of doing some exploring at night instead of going to sleep like a good little Minecrafter. 

“Hey, what’s this freaky green thing?” he asked you. 

“Freaky green thing? What kind of freaky green thing?” you said, wanting some specifics. 

“It looks like a depressed cactus,” he explained. 

Uh oh.

“Oh! That’s a cr---!” 

There was a distant explosion followed by Joseph screaming, “Oh my God! Son of a bitch!!!” 

After that, something changed in Joseph’s play style. He went from explorer to monster hunter. Angry at having been blown up and losing all his stuff, he goes on a vendetta to destroy all creepers. And why stop there? Zombies, spiders,skeletons or any other creature of the night that crosses his path were quickly dealt with. He goes deep into learning brewing, armor and weapon enchanting, and anything else he can think of to give him an edge against the hostile mobs. With Avdol’s help he builds a battle tower and protective wall around the base. He has very big dreams about taking out the Ender Dragon. 

Joseph is a bit of a jack of all trades when it comes to Minecraft. He may not be the best builder but he has a lot of creative ideas that help all of you with whatever projects you might be working on, especially when it comes to base defense and monster fighting.

Jotaro

He only ever plays when either you or one of the other Crusaders asks him to. When he first spawned in he wasn’t too impressed. He had a hard time figuring out what he wanted to do. At first, he doesn’t bother building a house or anything and just bums around his grandpa’s house. He makes a snide comment about how Joseph’s house is just a big, wooden block with one window and a door. Joseph grumbles something about how his house didn’t need to be pretty, just practical. Joseph ends up being the one to teach Jotaro how to play, while you occasionally interject to mention something Joseph may have forgotten about. Jotaro just responds with non-committal grunts and wanders around the base, checking things out. 

Eventually, he goes off on his own to explore and find somewhere nearby to build a house. He hasn’t collected any resources, has no tools, or crafted a weapon of any kind when he starts exploring. You try to warn him that he should at least get a wooden sword to defend himself with, but he ignores you. It isn’t until night comes and he is nearly killed by zombies that he finally decides to get some wood and stone and make some basic tools. He still hasn’t found a decent place to build yet, though.  

After he’s wandered around for about 4 in-game days, he comes across a village. Jotaro watches the villagers run around, doing their thing, and is bemused at their silly appearance and sounds. But when nighttime comes and zombies start attacking them, Jotaro feels he’s found his purpose in the game. Somebody has to protect these dumb looking guys and it may as well be him. He teams up with Avdol and Joseph (who is a little miffed that someone found a village before he did) to form a “Village Security Team”. While Avdol fixes the village up by patching holes in walkways, correcting poorly spawned buildings, and starting work on building a monster proof wall around the village, Jotaro and Joseph stay up at night to fight off the monsters. 

Eventually, Jotaro builds a massive fortress near the village and Avdol attaches the wall to it. This fortress serves as Jotaro’s home and the village becomes the secondary base for you guys. Joseph jokingly calls him “King JoJo” and “Your Highness” which usually has Jotaro grumbling under his breath. He spends most of his days decorating or improving either the fortress or the village itself. When he’s not doing that, he’s usually tagging along on one of his Grandfather’s adventures. 

Kakyoin

The redstone wizard of the group. Noriaki’s beaten the game a few times already, but only recently started messing around with redstone contraptions. He set up an automated farm that both harvests and replants crops as well as a huge mineshaft with minecarts set up so that they returned to the surface to be unloaded whenever players filled them up with resources.

As innovative as he is, though, he often uses his redstone skills to be an absolute troll. And usually, his victim is you. That’s not to say that he hasn’t pranked any of the others yet, it’s just that you’re his favorite target. It’s kinda your fault though. It started back when you first started playing Minecraft together and you might have, possibly, sorta, kinda, completely un-accidentally pilfered a diamond or two from one of his chests. He knew you were the culprit because there wasn’t anyone else in the game at the time but the two of you. He didn’t call you out on it, though, assuming that you would replace the diamonds as soon as you got a chance. You never did. While you actually did have every intention of returning the diamonds to him, you just forgot about it. It didn’t help that you later developed a habit of helping yourself to whatever you found in his chests instead of going out and getting the resources for yourself. Hey, it was easier and it saved time!

Nori never said a word about it, instead opting to quietly plan his revenge. One day you went down into his storage basement to grab some cobblestone from one of his chests. You were only going to grab a stack or two and make a mental note (for the hundredth time) to replace whatever you took, but knowing that you’d probably forget. When you opened the chest, though, you didn’t find any cobblestone. Instead you found yourself staring into the sullen face of a creeper, its warning hiss in your ears. You let out a shriek of terror and braced yourself for the inevitable explosion, but it never came. You examined the “creeper” again only to see that it was nothing more than an armor stand wearing a creeper head and green dyed leather armor. It was inside of a minecart that was cleverly hidden behind the chest. You just stared at it as your brain slowly came to the conclusion that you’d just been pranked. 

“Ah, I see you found my theft deterrent.” Noriaki said, amusement clear in his voice. “It’s a nifty little project I found online called the ‘creeper in a box’ prank.” 

You can’t even say anything. He got you good and you know it. You made it a point to stay out of his storage basement from then on. 

It doesn’t stop there though. That one little incident unleashed Noriaki’s inner troll and you’re the one who gets to suffer for it. From filling your house with dirt blocks to slowly rearranging your decorations over time to see how long it would take for you to notice, Noriaki just seems to love messing with you. You have to admit that while his pranks are annoying, they are pretty funny and too clever for you to really get mad at. Your “favorite” was when he hid a bunch of note blocks under your house and arranged them to play a certain song when you opened the front door. 

“Nori, why is my house Rick Rolling me?” you demand of him, annoyed but admittedly amused. 

“Why are you asking me?” he says, playing dumb. 

He knows what he did. 

You eventually do give him his diamonds back in hopes that will appease him. It does… for a little while at least. 

Avdol

The master builder. Before being invited to play Minecraft with you guys, he’d never really played a video game before. But there was something about the building mechanics of the game that awakened something within him, possibly nostalgia for those calm times with building blocks when he was a little kid. Whatever the case, Avdol takes to building like a pro and all without any YouTube tutorials, too. You want a medieval style bakery? You got one. Want a modern bungalow? He’ll do it. Giant fire breathing demon chicken to put in the middle of the base? You can envision the weird looks he wants to give you, but he’ll make one of those, no problem. His best projects are the ones he does on his own, though, with no guidance and with minimal suggestions. 

Due to his building skills, he finds himself constantly busy within the game as someone always has some kind of building project they want help with. He even offered to improve Joseph’s plain block house. The old man told him to do whatever he pleased and then went off to go treasure hunting with Jotaro and Kakyoin. When Joseph came back he found his simple home had been converted into a deceptively cute cabin. While Joseph was impressed enough with how cozy it looked, Avdol revealed that the cabin had a secret, a well hidden secret chamber that appealed to Joseph's inner superhero fanboy. He had his very own secret lair now (yeah, it’s not really a secret if everybody on the server knows about it, but let the old man dream)!

Over time, Avdol has added things here and there to the base to keep things from looking so plain. He’s added a decorated pond for fishing and just a place to hang out. There’s also a meeting area for when the whole gang gets together right before going on an adventure (brings back bittersweet memories. At least this time there’s no danger of anyone actually dying.). 

And yes, he even added that giant fire breathing demon chicken statue you wanted so badly. Your odd tastes aside, Avdol managed to make the abomination of a statue look rather cool and stylized. Kakyoin wants it to be the mascot for your group. It ends up being put on any and all banners for the base, much to Avdol’s chagrin. 

Every time he gets online with you guys he is either working on a project or starting another one. He never seems to run out of things to do. Surprisingly, his own home is rather quaint. Just a regular old farm house, but it’s very pretty. And yes, he has a chicken farm. 

Polnareff

Chaos incarnate. This man got into the game and immediately started doing everything WRONG! Digging straight down, forgetting to sleep at least once to ward off phantoms, forgetting to crouch when standing at the edge of great heights, you name it he’s messed it up. So basically just Polnareff being Polnareff. He always manages to find danger or danger finds him. Every monster in the area seems to target him specifically. On one mining trip you actually watched around five zombies shamble right past you and head straight for a very startled Polnareff. They completely ignored you! He’s died so many times that you actually put in the “keep inventory” cheat so that at the very least he stops losing all of his hard earned resources. 

Speaking of resources, when it comes to mining it’s the one thing that Jean Pierre is really, really lucky at. To the point that it makes everyone else jealous. He was the first to find diamonds and emeralds and the first to manage to get full stacks of both. You never even thought it possible to find 64 emeralds naturally, but Polnareff managed to pull it off. Joseph is quick to accuse him of cheating which results in a very childish argument between the two until you step in and explain that you were with Polnareff the whole time and he just finds diamonds and emeralds by chance. Joseph apologizes but grumbles when Polnareff laughs. Ever since then, whenever he comes across diamonds, or anything even remotely interesting, he is very obnoxious about it. 

“HEY GUYS!!! GUESS WHO FOUND EVEN MORE DIAMONDS?!!” he’ll shout in an annoying sing-song voice.

This usually results in annoyed huffs from Avdol and Kakyoin, disgruntled “Good griefs” from Jotaro, not-so-humble requests for him to stop bragging like an asshole from Joseph, and a threat or two from you that if he didn’t stop rubbing your faces in it, you would shove him into the nearest lava pit. This always earns a mischievous giggle or two from him. He’s so full of himself about it. He does make up for it though, when he crafts full sets of diamond armor for you all. For all his arrogant bragging, he’s really rather generous with his finds. If any of you need diamonds or emeralds he’s the first to offer up his stash. After all, he has so many, why shouldn’t he share? ~ ❤

Whenever he goes mining, you usually tag along. You say that it’s so you can help him carry his loot, but actually it’s because you’re his self appointed babysitter. Just like in real life, it just isn’t a good idea for him to run off by himself. You never say that out loud though because you know how sensitive he is about being danger-prone. Besides he likes having you along and the two of you end up as mining buddies almost every time you play. Sometimes Kakyoin joins you as he’s always in need of redstone and other materials for his contraptions (it’s important to note that Polnareff is Kakyoin’s second favorite trolling victim and it always makes you nervous whenever he tags along because you never know if he’s up to something or just genuinely wants to collect resources.). 

Whenever you and Polnareff go off on your own to do anything, the rest of the Crusaders server prepares their poor ears for the inevitable screaming and swearing that will follow. Something happens to you whenever you pair up with Polnareff. Your brain power seems to get cut in half and the two of you end up becoming an unintentional comedy duo that has everyone else either laughing or, in Jotaro’s case, muting you for being “too damn loud”. 

There was one time that Polnereff was digging a strip mine that ended up leading right into the Deep Dark and the Warden’s territory. You can probably guess what happened. Before you could warn him, Polnareff’s antics end up summoning the Warden and the monster kills you both before either of you have a chance to panic. This results in Polnareff seeking revenge (or trying to) and going all the way back to the Deep Dark to fight the Warden again (and dragging you along each time), and (both of you) dying again. This happens about three more times before he actually manages to defeat the Warden only to find out that he doesn’t get any kind of reward for it (other than bragging rights, which believe me, he takes advantage of). 

On a minor note, Polnareff’s inventory is always extremely unorganized. Whether referring to his personal inventory or his storage chests his inventory is in shambles. There’s no rhyme or reason for where he places things in his hotbar and sometimes he’ll end up hitting monsters with a stick or block of glass rather than his sword. He also has a bad habit of using the wrong tool for certain jobs, such as using his pickaxe on dirt instead of his shovel and it drives more organized players like Kakyoin and Avdol insane. 

BONUS:

Iggy

(We’re assuming that the little gremlin lives with you) While he can’t exactly play video games for obvious reasons, he does kinda like watching you play, but that’s only if he’s not trying to take a nap (you’re kinda noisy). Most of the time he just plops down in his comfy spot and watches you struggle to survive in what he mentally calls the “stupid human block game”. He is really amused whenever you and Polnareff team up because watching you two together is comedy gold. Sometimes, when you’re playing alone, he’ll wait for you to be exploring a dark, creepy cave and suddenly bark very loudly for no reason, causing you to very nearly jump out of your skin. 

Iggy: “BARK!”

You scream, swear, and jump back so hard that your headset falls off. Your mouse has been practically thrown across the room. You turn around and glare at the little brat. 

“IGGY!” you shout accusingly. 

The cheeky little doggo runs out of the room making sounds that can be interpreted as the canine equivalent of snickering.

[shxtodxroki]

𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚍

Summary: You and your boyfriend Katsuki get into an argument when he comes home from work injured, but Katsuki wants to make up for his faults, apologize and be better for you. 

Warnings: Angst, arguing, swearing, mentions of injuries (not inflicted by reader or Katsuki, he just comes home injured from work), mentions of food

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

- You should have seen the signs of an argument brewing long before you did. The air had been noticeably different between you and Katsuki ever since he had returned home, and you knew that your boyfriend never responded well to scolding or anger directed towards him.

- And you were no stranger to expressing your own feelings, you knew you’d be giving him an earful long before he came home after what you had seen on the news earlier that day. 

- So really, you should have expected things to escalate to the point they were at now.

- But honestly, you didn’t care. Of course you never want to fight with Katsuki, you love the man and don’t like when there’s conflict between you two, but unfortunately sometimes arguments can’t be avoided. And right now was one of those times.

- “All I ask is that you tell me when these things happen, Katsuki! So I can be there for you, so I can help you, and so I can stop worrying all the time!” You explained, trying your best to keep your voice level despite your frustration.

- “Why do you need to know?! I’m home now and I’m perfectly fine, shouldn’t that be enough? I’ve told you to stop fucking worrying so much, clearly it’s not good for you!” Katsuki bit back, equally as frustrated.

- Your boyfriend had gotten injured during his hero work earlier in the day, not terribly bad but still enough that he found himself in the hospital after they managed to apprehend the villain he was dealing with. Luckily he hadn’t taken any major damage, and he was patched up and sent home after being thoroughly checked up to ensure there were no underlying injuries, but you still wished he had told you like you had asked.

- You had told your boyfriend before to tell you as soon as possible any time he got hurt on the job, especially if it sent him to the hospital. Even if it was nothing major, you told him that you still wanted to know so that you could be by his side, with him every step of the way to ensure he was okay and fully taken care of.

- However, Katsuki hadn’t told you anything about his injuries that day, and instead you had to find out that he was sent to the hospital through the news as you watched TV, meaning he likely wasn’t planning on telling you at all if you didn’t find out on your own. Being unable to reach him while he was there left you worried sick, and just as you were collecting your things to head out and meet him at the hospital, your boyfriend texted you letting you know he was on his way home.

- From there you waited, anger and frustration building up within you with each second you were left to your own thoughts until he finally arrived home, and you two wound up in the position you now found yourselves in. 

- “How the hell am I not supposed to worry, Katsuki?! If I knew that I could trust you to just tell me when these things happen I wouldn’t be so anxious about you all the time, but I can’t do that because you refuse to do this one thing for me!” You responded immediately, practically pleading with your boyfriend to just communicate with you when he was injured so that you could ease your own worries and help him when these incidents occurred. 

- “Even when I don’t tell you, you sit here watching the news and worry yourself to fuckin death! Just let it go, damn it! I’m a fucking pro hero, I’ll be fine on one damn patrol.” You could tell you were starting to reach the point where neither of you were thinking fully logically, clouded by the frustration your argument caused as you snapped at one another. 

- You could feel tears of frustration burning your eyes, and the water pooling in your boyfriend’s eyes as he spoke indicated he was in a similar state. It was a heart-wrenching sight, as Katsuki almost never cried even in front of you, but both of you continued on, too stubborn to let your own points of view go in your mental clouds of frustration and hurt. 

- “Well excuse me for wanting to make sure my boyfriend is alive at the end of the day! You work one of the most dangerous jobs in the fucking country and you’ve been getting attacked by villains since fucking middle school, Katsuki, of course I’m gonna worry!” You had reached your breaking point, letting out all of your frustrations and fears with no holds barred as you cried to your lover. “I know how you are, I know you’ll save someone even if that means sacrificing your own life, and the thought of losing you eats away at me every single day you leave for work! So excuse me for just asking that you tell me when something goes wrong to ease some of my fears!”

- There was complete silence following your outburst, frustration still burning clear on both of your faces as Katsuki was at a loss for words. Tears were pouring down both of your cheeks at this point, and after sitting in the silence for a moment in an attempt to collect your thoughts, you walked off to your shared bedroom to have time to yourself to cool down from the fight.

- Katsuki followed suit, making his way to the couch in your living room to have some time of his own to let his anger dissipate and to truly think about what you had said and why you were so upset with him. 

- Katsuki knew why you worried about him, of course he did. Obviously you loved and cared about him, and this naturally lead you to worry when his job required him to put his life on the line every single day for the sake of others.

- But even though he knew why you worried, that stubborn part of him that lived inside of him ever since he was born struggled to just let you care, to let you worry about him. 

- It made him feel weak, like you shouldn’t have to worry about him and that he should be good enough at his job that you’d never have to worry about him coming home injured (or worse, not coming home at all).

- But, Katsuki realized as he reflected on his actions and the reasons behind them in the dim light of your shared living room, that wasn’t how reality worked. No matter how amazing he was at his job he would always be at risk, and he needed to accept that he could never be the perfect hero. 

- It wasn’t fair for him to expect you not to worry. He wasn’t being fair to you, he could see that now. All you had asked of him was to simply tell you when he got injured, and his stubbornness and pride had gotten in the way of your simple request. Again.

- Katsuki quietly groaned to himself at the realization, hiding his hands in his face in shame. He put you through so much every single day, working and risking his life as one of the top heroes in the country, and at the end of the day he had only made things worse for you by not even being willing to call and communicate with you when he was injured to help appease your worries.

- He felt like the worst boyfriend ever, tears still rolling down his cheeks from your argument as his internal frustration at himself boiled over.

- But he didn’t want to allow himself to turn this issue into a pity party for himself. He had fucked up, and rather than lamenting and simmering in it and using it as an excuse to never do better and lose you, the thing he cared about more than anything else in the word, he needed to do his part in fixing his mistake.

- Wiping his eyes quickly with a tissue as he stood, Katsuki quickly rose up from the couch and began to make his way to your shared bedroom. If you shooed him off and asked for space then he would give you more time to yourself, but if you were willing to let him, Katsuki wanted to apologize and right his wrong sooner rather than later. 

- Katsuki made his way to your bedroom door quietly, peeking in to see you staring down at your hands as tears continued to fall down on your face. He could see that the argument had left you feeling incredibly hurt and frustrated, and he wasn’t going to let you feel so upset over his actions for even a moment longer.

- You turned your head in surprise as you heard a gentle knock on the door, not knowing what to do or say when you saw your boyfriend’s crestfallen face in the door frame. You couldn’t seem to form words at the moment, unsure of what to say following your argument from just moments ago, so you found yourself silently watching as he entered the room and took the place beside you on the bed.

- Your boyfriend had never been good with conflict or admitting when he was wrong, that much you had gathered from your time together. You had expected to be the first one to approach him and apologize, like you typically were, once you had both cooled down. 

- Which was why your eyebrows raised in shock as Katsuki opened his mouth and spoke his first words to you since the argument.

- “...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Was all he managed at first, but the apology was enough to leave you completely stunned as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close in a tight hug.

- “I know I wasn’t being fair to you. I know I’m an idiot with a fuckin scary job and you have to deal with that every day, and you’re right to be worried. I was just too far up my own ass to let my pride go, and I’m sorry about that. The last thing I want is to hurt you or make you worry.” He continued, pressing your face gently against his chest as he apologized. His hand cradled the back of your head so gently, and the apologies that fell from his lips were so genuine, that you just pulled him in tighter as relief washed over you at him finally understanding your position.

- “Thank you for listening, Suki.” You responded, finally pulling away to look your boyfriend in the eyes as you spoke. “I know that my worries may seem overbearing to you sometimes, but I can’t just not worry when you risk your life every day. I love you so much, the thought of losing you makes me feel absolutely sick to my stomach and it’s not easy to deal with that every day.”

- “I know babe, I know. You’re not overbearing, I’m sorry that I have to stress you out like that every day.” He reassured you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead to help ease your tension.

- “It’s your dream, Suki, and I’d never try to take that away from you.” You promised him, knowing that hero work was something he’d longed for ever since he was a small child. “Just promise me that from now on, you’ll tell me when you get hurt. Even small injuries, I want to be by your side when you’re being treated and be able to help you, for both of our sakes.”

- “That I can do, I swear this time I mean it.” A grin finally made it’s way across your boyfriend’s face, your worried brows finally relaxing as you realized that things were going to be okay between the two of you. Both of you were learning and growing together in your relationship, and you were incredibly proud of your boyfriend for getting over his pride and being the first to apologize to you after realizing his wrongdoings. 

- Katsuki wiped the remaining tear stans off of your face with the back of his hand as he leaned in to press a sweet kiss to your pouty lips, hugging you once more before standing up from the bed and reaching a hand out to help you up.

- “What do you say I make you dinner and we spend the rest of the night together, huh? I’ll call off work tomorrow, so we can stay up late and watch that new movie you’ve been wanting to see.” He offered, a bright grin lighting up your face as his suggestion. “Take it as my way of apologizing for being a fucking idiot to the best partner I could ever ask for.”

- “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Suki.” You responded with a smirk, taking the hand he had offered to you as the remaining frustration seeped out of your pores and was replaced with love and content. You two would make it through this, like you always did, and you knew that in the end, your relationship would be stronger because of today’s revelations.

Request - @thekaylahub​ said: hello, i hope you doing well! i saw that you’re requests were open so i just decided to submit a little something. i’d like to request like a hurt/comfort of bakugou and reader getting into like a bad fight/argument (i don’t care what the fight is over!) and the two of them end up in tears?? but instead of the reader being the one to apologize first, can it be bakugou? like he’s the one who approaches the reader and just comforts them and apologizes profusely?! please take your time and don’t feel like you have to do this one if you don’t want to!💕

A/N: I’m honestly really proud of this, I feel like I’m getting better at writing realistic dialogue and spacing out events, even in a short piece like this one, better and I’m just really happy with the way this turned out. :) Also I swear I’ll write individual pieces for more than just Bakugo, he’s not even my own personal favorite character (I do thunk he's really interesting and fun to write for though) but I definitely get the most requests for him, and a lot of interesting requests too! I don’t have a ton of requests to get through right now, though, so if you have any requests please feel free to send them my way, especially headcanons as those are definitely my forte!

Taglist: @pasteldaze​ @yeagerfushiguro​ @papijean​ @deadmans-toe @trashy-bowtie​ @palenightmarepersona​ @thekaylahub @applepie-macaroon​

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[ipseitydelrey]

Hello! I would like to submit a request for Elle Greenaway x fem!Reader. How about spending holidays with Elle trying to cheer her up after leaving the BAU/starting a new life together? Thank you for your time!

oooo the power this prompt holds…i’ve always wondered what might have happened to elle after she left

when memories snow ☆ e. greenaway

ship elle greenaway x fem!reader

warnings slight angst, pre-established relationship, hurt/comfort but it’s definitely comfort, timeline’s a mess just pretend that the episode where elle quits aired in december and not october okay?, not beta-read

word count 895

summary after elle quits the BAU following the events of s2:e5, reader tries to cheer her up during the holidays.

a/n yeah the title is a mitski reference, dont blame me i love her <3 also this is just propaganda to get y’all to watch The Apartment dir. Billy Wilder (1960) bc it’s a cute christmas movie! merry christmas to those who celebrate, and happy holidays !!

When the cold night air nips at your skin while waiting outside of Elle’s apartment, you’re glad you remembered to bring thick sweaters.

It was a spur of the moment decision to show up unannounced. That is made clear when Elle answered to your knocks and opened the door. She isn’t really enthusiastic to see you; which you can understand. Her quitting from the FBI is a fresh wound, and she had only told you of her leave through a midnight text a couple nights ago.

In short, she wasn’t expecting you here, especially in the middle of the night and while a budding snowstorm is brewing.

“What are you doing here?” The question isn’t aggressive; none of what she has ever said to you has been aggressive in tone. No, it was genuine, like she really is wondering why you’re at her apartment.

You gesture to a spare sweater nestled in your arms. “It’s the holidays,” you reply. “I wanna spend them with you.”

Elle sighs and steps aside, allowing you in. You go inside and the first thing you notice upon entry are the few packed and sealed boxes in the corner, assuming they’re untouched incase your girlfriend needed to move again. You eye them but decide not to bring it up; after all, the last thing Elle would want with all she’s been through in a short time span is you criticizing her.

She glances at the fuzzy sweater you’re wearing. “Does it itch?” she questions as she closes and locks the door, trapping the cold air outside.

You look down and straighten the dark green wool with your free hand. “Actually, it’s really soft.” You extend the crimson sweater in your arm to her. “I brought one for you!”

Seeing how happy you are, she takes the sweater and pulls it over her head; the red suits her perfectly. “Thank you,” Elle says, letting her hand run over the fabric on her arm. Her faint smile fades into a light scowl. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask.

“I didn’t tell you sooner.”

You stand there quietly, breaking the eye contact you had for a second before meekly assuring, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

The second when you stop talking, Elle moves to the living room and you follow behind closely. “I don’t think you came all the way here just to hear me whine,” she chuckles lightly.

“Okay, well,” you were originally assuming that she would turn you away at the door; now, you hadn’t envisioned you would get this far. Suddenly, you have an idea. “Do you still have those hot cocoa packets?”

She raised an eyebrow at your question. “Yeah…why, do you want some?”

“I’ll make it!” you yell as you run into the kitchen, leaving her behind. You’re lucky to have already memorized where everything in the kitchen is, being that this is only your third visit to her apartment. You turned on the electric kettle and collected two mugs and two hot chocolate packets, alongside some small marshmallows which took some time to find. Despite how often Elle would be away from her apartment, her kitchen is surprisingly well-stocked.

After you pour the hot water and contents of the packets into the mugs, you collect them and make your way back to the living room. Elle, now seated on the couch with a wooly blanket draped over one leg, stares at you as you carefully hand her the mug.

The cocoa, as delicious as it smells, is still burning hot, but that tidbit of information slipped your mind as you took a small sip, only to burn your tongue and jerk your head back. Elle chuckled at your reaction and while you’re happy to hear her laughter, you’re also playfully offended by her apparent sadism.

You slap her shoulder lightly as you sit down next to her, leaning your torso against her warm body. She responds with a joking “ouch” as she softly blows on her hot chocolate. You pull the blanket over to cover both sets of legs.

Elle sets her mug down and grabs the remote. “What d’you wanna watch,” she asks, opening up a streaming service on the television.

You take another sip, thankfully the cocoa is cooler and not unpleasantly hot. “Oh, I don’t know,” you say. “It’s your house, why don’t you pick?”

She nods, using the remote to navigate to an old black-and-white movie you hadn’t seen yet. “The Apartment? Is that a Christmas movie?”

“Technically,” she quipped, taking back her mug and drinking when the movie starts.

A few minutes in, you lean your head against her shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” you suggest, out of the blue.

Elle glances at you with her eyes. “I know.”

“It’s not…necessarily about, y’know, the BAU, but…” you’re unsure of whether or not you want to continue. You look down at the steam rising out of your mug. “I just wanna know if you’re doing okay.”

“I am,” she replies. “I’m okay, I swear.” She turns her head and kisses your forehead softly before turning back and wrapping her arm along the back of your neck.

You smile and take another sip of the hot chocolate, with the sounds of old-timey music in the background and the warmth of Elle’s presence to comfort you.

literally did not know how to end this, but like it’s very cute 🫶 hope y’all enjoyed (if there’s anything wrong in the fic, let me know and i’ll fix it!) and happy holidays !! ❄️

[redrose10]

I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.

…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.

I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!

*******************************************************

Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi

Word count: 3,702

(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)

When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.

Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.

And then he met you…

When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.

He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.

Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.

When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.

Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.

Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.

Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.

The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.

And how much he talked about you outside of work.

“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.

“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”

“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”

“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.

“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.

Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.

Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.

When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,

“Who is this?”

“That’s Lebron James.”

“Is he any good?”

“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”

“Okay and what team does he play for?”

You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”

Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.

Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.

Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…

Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.

When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.

“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”

Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.

“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.

“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.

But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.

Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.

He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.

He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.

He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.

He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.

You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.

Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.

You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.

You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.

“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”

He shakes his head.

“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”

“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.

“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”

“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.

Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.

Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.

Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.

“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.

“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”

Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”

He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”

He felt his heart skip.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.

“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”

Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.

“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”

Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.

You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”

Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.

You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”

Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.

“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”

Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.

“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.

“How did you do it?”

He look at you confused.

“How did you heal yourself?”

Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.

“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”

Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.

This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.

Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.

“Hey Y/N…”

Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.

“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”

Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.

“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”

“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.

“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.

You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”

“Y/N”

“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”

“Y/N”

“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”

“Y/N”

“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”

Y/N!”

Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.

“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”

You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.

“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”

He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”

“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.

“I would be happy to”

[trashmoutth]

When I see you again (Fred Weasley x Reader)

PARTS 1. 2. female!reader, Gryffindor!reader Summary: It takes place during the Second Wizarding War, months after Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Reader is on the run after her family has been caught by the Snatchers. Loosely following cannon. Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (mentioned) Characters: Dean Thomas, Fred Weasley (mentioned),George Weasley (mentioned), Ted Tonks (mentioned), Dirk Cresswell (mentioned) Warnings: war, mentions of death, angst, swearing, english is not my first language so there might be grammatical mistakes, capital letters, etc.

—

During the next couple of days there was a strange feeling of excitement in the air. For the first time in a while, you felt like there was something to hope for, like you had a goal. The sudden burst of adrenaline in your veins had you wandering around this old house of yours all day and all night. It was driving Dean crazy, but you didn’t care. He showed you how to replay old PotterWatch recordings, so you had them playing in the background through the day while searching through your grandma’s old books in hopes of finding something helpful.

Dean was being as supportive as he could’ve been, considering he was also aching to get in touch with his parents and sisters, however, he was reluctant to get his hopes up. You didn’t have the same problem. It wasn’t a choice for you.

“I’d tell her that her family is alive and well and desperate for news of her whereabouts. As are quite frankly, all of us here at the PotterWatch”.

When you weren’t replaying the recording, you were replaying those words in your head.

You had to find a way.

There was another resident in the house who didn’t seem to be too keen on contacting the wizarding world. A goblin named Ricbert. He was badly injured and spent most of the time resting. You couldn’t blame him for not wanting to risk exposure, not after Dean has told you everything they had to go through to get to a safe house. They were travelling with Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and another goblin named Gornuk. They crossed miles and miles being actively hunted by the Snatchers and Death Eaters. Gornuk has split himself while apparating in a hurry and got captured. Dirk went after him while urging the others to run away, but Ted Tonks would not leave anyone behind. Unfortunately, that resulted in Dean and Ricbert having to fend for themselves.

Listening to that story made you shiver. But if anything, it made you even more determined to stop running and hiding. It wasn’t even just about seeing your family and friends again. It wasn’t just about Fred either. People were fighting for their lives! You couldn’t stay put! You had to do something!

When you weren’t practicing defensive spells, you spent your time obsessively collecting herbs and brewing healing remedies for Ricbert. It made you feel a bit better, being useful to someone. You were trying out all kinds of recipes you thought might come in handy.

You made a batch of Polyjuice Potion, Cure for boils, Antidote to Common Poisons, Antidote to Uncommon Poisons. You even tried to make Felix Felicis, but the ingredients for it were way too hard to find even in regular circumstances.

You were brewing so much that Dean eventually had to take you by the hand and force you to sit down and take a break.

“If Snape could see me now!”, you said with a tired smile.

Dean chuckled.

“He’d probably put you in detention for working too hard”.

“Ah, yes! Did you know he actually did do that to me once?”

“What, really?”

“Yeah… I wrote an essay in my third year that was accidentally a little too good. He accused me of using a magical quill and put me in detention”, you rolled your eyes.

“Blimey, what a git!”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ve never tried to work too hard on my homework again!”, you laughed.

It was nice talking to Dean, the two of you became fast friends during your stay in the house. You gave each other space through the day, but in the evenings, you would sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Just like you were back in the Gryffindor common room, chatting about muggle films and sports. You found your grandparents’ stash of Firewhiskey and Nettlewine, so you’d light the fireplace and open a bottle. Ricbert also joined you on occasion.

You tried not to talk too much about PotterWatch, even though that was all you wanted to talk about, and tried avoiding mentioning Fred and George’s name completely. At least until you’ve figured out the way to find them. On the first night, you and Dean went through all the options of how to get in touch with someone from your world. Floo powder was out of question. So was sending and owl, obviously. Most importantly, even if you did find a way to send anyone a message, you wouldn’t know where to send it. Apparating to any location was an unnecessary risk, especially now that you seemed to be perfectly safe and sound for the first time in months. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t want to put Ricbert in danger just because, as he so delicately put one evening,

“You heard your boyfriend mention your name on a radio two weeks ago”.

The word “boyfriend” stupidly made your heart flutter. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, true, but you didn’t correct him. Dean didn’t question it either at the time. However, that evening, after a few glasses of Nettlewine, his curiosity got the best of him.

“So…”, he started, “You and Weasley, eh?”

“Huh?”

“You and Fred Weasley? You’re like… an item, right?”

“What makes you say that?”, you feigned surprise.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Oh, please!”

“No! We are just friends”, you tried to protest, but a small smile escaped your lips and betrayed you.

“Sure you are!”, Dean chuckled, “I also fall asleep every night while listening to recordings of my friend’s voices on the radio”.

“Well maybe you should, it’s very calming”, you teased.

“Besides”, you continued, “How do you know it’s not Georgie I’m listening for?”

“Oh”, he laughed, “You’re right, my apologies”.

“Why do you think they call him Tentacula?”.

He snorted and threw a pillow at you.

“Don’t put images in my head!”

“Well, you’re the one who started this conversation!”, you threw the pillow back at him.

He groaned.

“I was just being nosy, I didn’t want the details!”

“Curiosity killed the hippogriff!”

“Also…”, Dean continued, “Ginny mentioned something to me back when we were dating…”

Your heart jumped in your chest.

“About what?”, you asked as calmly as possible.

“You know… about you and Weasley… Fred, I mean”.

“What did she say?”

Dean looked at you sternly as if what he was about to say is very serious indeed, but then his face stretched into a wide grin, and he burst out laughing.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see your reaction!”

You groaned.

“Oi, Thomas, that was really low!”

“Sorry, better work on your poker face Y/LN!”, he teased you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, it’s not like it matters anyway. I mean… who knows if I’ll ever see him again”, your voice suddenly turned sad.

Dean’s expression softened.

“You’ll see him”, he said.

You looked at him with teary eyes and gently smiled with gratitude.

“You think so?”, you asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

“Yes”, he replied, “We’ll find a way. But then you have to do it”.

“Do what?”

“Shoot your shot”, he said and threw a pillow at you again.

...

You’ve spent the next couple of days trying to figure out how to bring up your newest plan of sending a message to Fred and George. It seemed like a good plan; the only problem was the fact that you had no idea how to execute it.

“Dean…”, you started one afternoon.

“Yes?”, he asked.

“I’ve figured it out”, you said slowly.

“You have?”, he jumped in excitement.

“Yes… sort of”.

“What does that mean?”

“Well…”, you started, “There might be a way to send someone a message without having to know exactly where they are, I think… but it requires a really powerful witch or wizard to do so”.

“I’m not worried about that part!”, he winked at you.

You laughed bitterly.

“I don’t know, mate. I’ve never been able to do it before… that’s why I didn’t bring it up until now”.

“What is it?”, his voice suddenly got a bit more serious.

You took a deep breath.

“The thing is… you can send someone a message using the Patronus charm”.

“You can?”, he asked in a surprise.

“Yes”, you replied, “I’ve seen it”.

The image of a silver, gleaming lynx with a voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt suddenly entered your mind.

“Well, that’s… good news, right?”, Dean asked.

You sighed.

“Yes… and no”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’ve never been able to produce a corporal Patronus before… and even if I did it, I have no idea how to get it to send someone a message!”, you said, with slight frustration in your voice.

“Oh…”, Dean said.

“Can you produce it?”

He shook his head.

“No… never been able to”.

“Well… that’s why I didn’t say anything until now… but it seems like it might be the only option we have left”.

He looked at you in disbelief.

“What kind of option is that? We’d have to become able to produce a corporal Patronus, and then we’d also have to somehow figure out a way to make it reach someone else for us… it would take us weeks, months, maybe even years!”

“You have somewhere to be?”, you asked sarcastically.

He sighed.

“No…”

“Well, then… unless you can come up with a better plan, I suggest you roll up your sleeves and start practicing the charm!”, you said in a tone of voice that reminded you a bit of Professor McGonagall.

A similar thought has clearly crossed Dean’s mind, because he smirked at you and said,

“Yes, professor!”

You softened your expression and smiled at him.

The following couple of days were spent by your useless attempts to preform the Patronus charm. When you weren’t whispering, mumbling, or screaming:

“Expecto Patronum!”

you were cooped up in your room, reading your grandmas old books, trying to find anything at all about the Patronus charm. It was hopeless.

To be fair, you managed to produce a glowing, silver shield that danced around the room, but there was no sign of fur, tail, claws, hooves, or anything like that. It was driving you mad, which, obviously, wasn’t helpful while trying to focus on your happiest memories.

One evening, as you were lying in your bed and rewinding old recordings of PotterWatch, a shocking realisation suddenly hit you.

Of course you would not be able to create a Patronus, you didn’t have a memory that was strong enough! All your happiest thoughts were somehow tainted by the fact that you were here, locked inside a safe house, completely isolated from the people that you loved the most. But if you could do it… If you could be strong enough to perform the spell…

You didn’t have a happiest memory because all of them were set in the future! And you held the power to make them into reality!

It was a paradoxical thought, but the realisation made your heart fill up with hope, and perhaps, that could be enough to summon a Patronus!

You jumped out of the bed, in a sudden rush of adrenaline, and raised your wand.

You closed your eyes.

What would make you happy? What is the happiest thing you can think of at this very moment?

An image of your parents glimmered in your mind. They were smiling at you while embracing you into a tight hug.

Then another image appeared. Your friends! George Weasley gifting you one of his infectious smiles and congratulating you on a spell well-done! Lee Jordan, shaking your hand and kissing your cheeks.

A small grin appeared on your lips.

It was working!

Then, you saw his face. Fred.

His flaming red locks and glistening eyes. He reached his hands towards you and pulled you in his arms. You knew his scent all too well. He smelled of cinnamon and fireworks. He didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t say anything to him. You just stood there, embracing. No words were needed.

You felt your heart swell up as happy tears started to fill your eyes. You took a deep breath.

You were almost there!

You raised your wand higher and pictured yourself as exactly the person you wanted to be in this very moment. You were strong enough to summon a Patronus. You were clever enough to reach your friends. You were brave enough to protect Ricbert and Dean. You could do it! You just had to believe in it!

“Excpecto Patronum”, you whispered.

A beam of silver light shot out of your wand. It seemed to be forming into a shape.

Was that a claw? Or maybe antlers?

The beautiful silver light blazing from your wand gave you more confidence, so you repeated, this time more loudly and more clearly,

“Excpecto Patronum!”

This time the light started to form into a shape a lot more distinctively. You watched in an awe as you tried to figure out what animal in reminded you of, still focusing hard on your happy thoughts.

The silver light fell apart once again, but you didn’t get discouraged. You were certain this time you’d do it. You took a deep breath and pictured Fred’s smiling face. His eyes. His voice. His laughter… You’ll see him again! You will! You were so close…

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”, you yelled out.

The light shooting out of your wand was almost blinding this time. You squinted as you watched it prance around the room, forming into a shape of a beautiful, silvery creature. After it made a circle around the room it stopped right in front of you, looking at you with its intelligent, glowing eyes. You gasped in awe and reached for it to touch it. You recognized it instantly.

It was a (your Patronus).

You did it!

The realisation made a surge of euphoric sensation shoot through your body.

You fucking did it!

You started laughing. You wanted to call for Dean, but you were worried the animal would disappear if you did that. So, instead, you just stood there, trying to get your brain to start working again. As soon as it did, another thought has crossed your mind.

What now?

That’s right! Summoning a Patronus was only a part of the problem. As happy as you were to have succeeded, you still didn’t know how to fulfil the other part.

What if I just… ask?

it was a silly thought. And yet…

It couldn’t hurt!

You struggled for a moment to find your voice. Your Patronus was still looking at you. It seemed like it already knew what you were about to do.

“Can you… help me?”, you heard yourself say stupidly.

The Patronus blinked.

“I need to send a message… to Fred Weasley. He’s… my best friend. Perhaps you already know that…?”

The animal didn’t move or react in any way that would make it seem like it understood you. You groaned in frustration.

“Well, it was worth a shot”, you mumbled.

The frustration in your voice made the Patronus start to slowly fade out. It made you panic for a moment, but then you let it go.

If you could summon it once, you can do it again!

However, the Patronus didn’t disappear, you realized a second later. Instead, it turned itself into a tiny, floating ball of light that began slowly approaching you. Just when you thought it was about to stop, it went straight inside your neck and nested itself at the bottom of your throat.

“What the…”, you spoke in a surprise.

And then you froze in shock. You could hear your own voice, just like it was magically enhanced by Sonorous. However, you had a strange feeling that if anyone else was around you, they would only see you open your mouth and silently move it like a fish.

“Did I… do it?”, you asked.

You were still hearing your own voice inside your head. That must be it! It must be working!

“Fred…”, you started, “If you can hear me… if this reaches you somehow… I’m safe. I’m in a safe location. I can’t tell you exactly where it is, it’s heavily protected…”.

You thought for a moment about what you should and shouldn’t say. You didn’t want to compromise anyone’s safety if this message was heard by someone else.

“If you can reach my parents, would you tell them I’m okay?”, you asked.

There were so many things that you dreamt about saying to him if you got the chance, and now… it felt like there was nothing on your mind.

“Oh, I’m with Dean Thomas!”, you remembered suddenly, “He’s safe too… we’re with a goblin named Ricbert… Fred…”.

You took a deep breath.

“If you can… try to find me… please”.

Just when you started thinking about how silly that sounded, the ball of light nested in your throat flew out. It reached the middle of the room and slowly transformed back into its corporal form. The beautiful, shimmering animal stood before you once again, only this time there was a little ball of light flickering in its neck. You realised, in amazement, that that was your voice.

“Find Fred Weasley… please”, you said pleadingly.

The Patronus blinked at you once again, like it perfectly understood the assignment you just gave it, and slowly began to fade out.

For a second or two you did not move. You were still a bit unsure that what you just saw really happened. You wanted to call Dean and tell him all about it, but before you could do that, you felt yourself slowly sinking into bed. You were exhausted.

You didn’t know for sure how long you slept. Was it five hours or five minutes. You only knew that in one moment your eyes were shut and you were sleeping, and in another something in the room has made you groan out in frustration.

Did somebody turn on the light?

“Turn… it… off…”, you mumbled as you tried to cover your closed eyes with a pillow.

But it felt like the light was burning through the pillowcase. You threw the pillow away and sat up straight, like someone had just pinched you.

Your eyes widened in shock. Something was in the room with you. Through the haze of sleepiness, it looked like another glowing ball of light, only this ball was a lot larger than the one you had summoned. It made a few circles around the room before it finally settled and landed at the top of the pillow you just threw away. It was a bird. A magpie. A glowing, silvery magpie! It was spreading its shimmering wings and looking at you like it wanted your undivided attention.

Another Patronus, you realised.

Your mouth had gone dry from suspense. Then, the bird opened its silver beak and spoke in the voice of Fred Weasley,

“Y/N? Is that really you?”

Your heart stopped.

—

[zestydoesthings]

I’ve been wanting to do a #dtiys for a while and asked insta what they wanted. A new, fun character was what they collectively decided so please welcome to the stage.. Crassula!

She’s a toxin-brewing, potion-spewing frog with a penchant for exploding things! #zestydtiys