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allmoshnobrain · 2 months ago

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kinktober 2024 masterlist | day two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x reader | gun play

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, +18, mxf sex, gun play, early seasons dean

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wanted to become a hunter. You really did.

It was hard not to want it, not after some freak disease tore through your town, turning your family and friends into monsters, leaving you the only one standing. Not after everything you knew in your life just crumbled, replaced by fear, anger and hatred — the need to get revenge, to make whoever caused all this hurt pay, or at least stop them from existing in the most painful way possible.

You wanted to become a hunter.

But damn, it was harder than you ever thought it’d be.

Putting all the emotional stuff aside, trying to get fit and strong wasn’t exactly on your radar back then. But when life flips on you, you’ve got to roll with it. Different situations, different game plans. You’d do whatever it took to get strong enough to take down as many monsters as possible, as fast as you could.

The Winchesters had your back from the moment they met you. After pulling you out of the mess you’d been through, they took you to Bobby’s place while you tried to piece your life back together. When you told them you wanted to be a hunter, Sam was the first to try and talk you out of it. But Dean — Dean got it. He knew exactly what that fire burning in your chest felt like. He knew there was no way you’d walk away from chasing your revenge.

And that’s how Dean ended up teaching you the basics. While Sam and Bobby were out of town chasing a lead on a new case, you and Dean spent whatever time you could practicing — shooting, self-defense, throwing punches, sure, but also learning about the different creatures out there, their weak spots, and how to take them down.

You were great at the book stuff. The physical part? Not so much.

“You still got a lot to learn,” Dean said, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. He’d been trying to teach you some self-defense skills for the past hour, but you hadn’t really made much progress. “You can’t go hunting if you can’t even defend yourself.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, frowning, feeling just as frustrated. “I’m not you, okay? I haven’t been doing this my whole life!”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you a look like he was trying to figure you out. “Maybe we should just take a break. You’ll probably do better tomorrow,” he suggested, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You ended up going back upstairs to the guest room you were crashing in, grabbing some clothes, and heading to the bathroom. Maybe a warm bath would help loosen up your sore muscles from all the intense training you’d been doing for the past few weeks.

You knew Dean was probably waiting for you to come back down eventually to study more about the creatures you’d be up against — or, realistically, he’d spend hours bragging about his past hunts as a way to teach you the ropes — but you just weren’t feeling it. The frustration from your slow progress was really starting to get to you. You wondered if he’d even bother to come looking for you if you stayed in your room until morning.

Unfortunately, you got your answer pretty quick — right after you got back from your shower, hair still damp, muscles still kinda sore. The second you opened the door to your room, someone grabbed your wrist, their grip way stronger than yours. You yelped, heart pounding with shock and fear, and you were just about to yell for Dean, thinking something broke into the house, when you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into your back.

“Surprise, honey,” Dean said, and you struggled in his grip, trying to shake loose from his hold on your wrist.

“Dean, what the hell?” you yelled, and he grunted when you tried to stomp on his foot, just pulling you in closer, his chest pressed against your back while his gun dug into your lower back.

“Gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart. Come on, you got this,” he mumbled, his breath warm against your neck. You took your shot and elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a low grunt, his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to break free. You turned to face him, breathing hard, your face burning with anger.

“What the fuck, Dean?” you snapped. He had the nerve to smile, like scaring you half to death was just some kind of joke. You glanced at the gun in his hands and then back at his face, your frown deepening. “Is that shit loaded?”

“Of course it isn’t loaded,” he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the bullet cartridge to prove it. You huffed, shooting him a death glare for that stupid grin. “Come on, sweets. I just wanted to see how you’d handle some pressure. Gotta say, it was way more entertaining than our regular training.”

“That’s not funny, Dean,” you shot back, and he just laughed.

“Funny or not, you still got me to let you go, didn’t you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes, feeling some of your anger slip away, but not all of it. Your heart skipped a beat when he stepped in closer, using the gun to lift your chin. “You think too much. You gotta go with your gut a bit more.”

You looked up at him, your breath hitching and your cheeks warming, not missing that little smirk on his lips as he stared down at you, tension bubbling in your stomach like a wave. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear:

“You’re not gonna make it as a hunter if you freeze up like prey every time you see a gun, honey.”

You grunted, trying to snatch the gun from him in one quick move, but he was quicker. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you against the wall, putting his knee between your legs and trapping you with his body.

“You scared of this?” he asked, glancing at the gun in his hand. You didn’t reply, just shot him a glare filled with anger. He scoffed. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“Thought you were having enough fun yapping away by yourself,” you muttered. “Can you let me go? Please?”

He chuckled softly but finally pulled back. You let out a sigh, rubbing your wrist where he had grabbed you. It was a bit sore, and oh, how you wished you could make him pay for it.

“You're such a jerk,” you growled, and he raised an eyebrow. Oh, you caught on. He's getting annoyed.

“I was just trying to help you, dumbass,” he said, pressing the cold metal of the gun against your cheek. “That pretty face of yours isn’t gonna get you far when you’re up against someone with a gun.”

“I thought we were killing monsters,” you shot back, and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play dumb. Some monsters know how to use guns if they have to,” he said, his gun sliding from your cheek down to your neck, then your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath when it traced the edge of your shirt, pulling it down a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up, your nipples stiff against the fabric of your shirt, a reminder that you weren’t wearing a bra. “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and I might just think you’re into this.”

“Cut it out, Dean,” you breathed, your face going red. He laughed softly, stepping closer.

“You know, maybe I deserve a little reward for being such a great teacher, don’t you think?” he whispered, slowly. “How about you take your shirt off for me?”

“Oh, so you have to hold people at gunpoint to get them to strip for you?” you shot back, a sharp smirk on your lips.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, and then his mouth was on yours, lips rough and demanding as his tongue tasted your mouth. You grabbed the front of his shirt, a mix of annoyance and desire washing over you as he pressed his body into yours. “Wait, let me just stash this,” he said, looking for a place to put his gun, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your face heating up. He blinked, eyebrows shooting up as he pulled back a bit.

“Oh, so you’re a little freaky, huh?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” you growled before pulling him in for another kiss. He grunted against your lips, his free hand tugging off your shirt. You yelped when he spun you around, shoving you toward the bed like it was no big deal. No wonder you were struggling with self-defense against someone this strong.

“Maybe you’re finding our training tough 'cause you kinda like being held like this, huh?” Dean grunted, his voice low as he bent you over the bed, your cheek pressing into the mattress. “Wrists,” he ordered, and you quickly put your hands behind your back. He chuckled, clearly surprised at how obedient you were, his big hand locking onto both your wrists with a solid grip.

You bit your lip as he set the gun down on the bed right in front of you, then used his free hand to slide your pants and panties down to your ankles. You shivered, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his fingertips circled your wetness. He let out a low hum and pushed a couple of fingers inside slowly.

“Dean,” you gasped. He grabbed his gun again, the cold metal gliding along your spine.

“Be good now,” he whispered, and you let out a whimper as he pressed the flat top of the barrel against your pussy, rubbing the cold steel against your clit. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need, huh? Just a little release? I can help with that.”

“Please,” you moaned, closing your eyes, and he chuckled softly, pushing his gun harder against your wetness. You gasped as tension started to build in your belly, your legs shaking a bit. “Dean, I—”

“Shush, honey,” he whispered, moving the gun gently. “Just let go, beautiful.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you whined, and he laughed. You moved your hips in slow circles, chasing that friction as tears threatened to spill, trying to catch your breath while Dean's teasing motions tightened the knot in your belly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my gun, huh?” he murmured, absentmindedly. You choked out a moan in reply, and he laughed. “Wow, you’re a fucked-up one, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one with a gun against my cunt,” you whined, and he snorted.

“You’re the one who asked for it,” he said softly, and you bit your lip, moaning as he pressed the cold steel against your entrance. “Damn… You’re so wet, I bet it’d slide right in.”

“Oh,” you moaned, your body reacting to his words, walls clenching around nothing as you got closer to your orgasm. “Dean…”

“Hmm, cum for me, beautiful, come on,” he whispered, his hand leaving your wrists to tangle in your hair while the other pressed the gun against your clit again. “You got this, come on.”

You moaned again, the cold, hard surface rubbing against your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Tears were about to spill from your eyes as your walls clenched — softly at first, then harder and harder — until you let out a choked moan, your peak making your body shake in Dean’s grip.

“Dean,” you whined, practically begging, a sob slipping out as your whole body trembled. He let out a soft hum, whispering sweet nothings as he helped you ride out your orgasm: how you were so, so good, coming all over his hand like this.

He let go of your hair soon after, pulling back as you tried to catch your breath. You shifted on the bed, lying on your back, eyes all hazy as you looked at Dean, who was wiping your juices off his gun with your shirt. You let out a small, breathy moan at the sight, and he looked up at you, pupils dilated and face flushed, a clear bulge in his denim pants.

“Don’t you dare move,” he said softly, setting his gun on the bedside table before unbuckling his belt. You felt your swollen pussy clench when he smirked mischievously, his eyes never leaving yours as he crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

Participate in the kinktober writing list with my FREE SPACE dynamic. There are some free spaces for specific pairings and you can shoot me asks with suggestions for kinks and plots featuring them. I will choose one for each character featured to write! Free spaces available: Sam Winchester (SPN), Jason Newsted (Metallica), Cap. John Price (COD), Kakashi Hatake (Naruto), Cronos (Venom)

#ada writes fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #dean winchester smut #spn smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #spn x you #dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fic

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unholyhelbig · 9 months ago

Note

Romanov smut??

[This is 18+, if you are a minor DO NOT INTERACT, I will report you.]

Title: Spin Cyle

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Warnings: Top!Natasha, Dom!Nat, Definate Mommy kink, semi-public sex, swearing, fingering (R recieving), derogatory names, pet names, Dom/sub dynamic, finger sucking, slight bimbofication if you squint [lmk if I'm missing anything], horrible grammar.

Summary: Reader is working the overnight shift at the laundromat when a mysterious stranger comes in with motives that are clear from the start.

[A/n: And so what if I have thing for laundromats? They're comforting, okay? I like writing fluff but sometimes you just really have to get in there. ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Spic & Span was one of the only laundromats left in a city that swarmed around a university, so it was always teeming with people. Between classes, students with headphones on and powder laundry soap would occupy the tables that pockmarked the large space.

No washer nor dryer were the same; some were a beautiful turquoise, with rusted patches on the front. Others were a sickly olive green that had once been coveted among housewives. They all seemed to function perfectly despite their age; but it was your job to make sure they did just that.

The usual shift you worked was 8:00pm to 8:00am, and aside from the stray kid here or there, it was mostly a silent endeavor. Since starting six months ago you had torn through at least fifteen novels, and when you grew bored of that, you moved onto movies that would hold your attention until the small bell above the door sounded.

You’d learned quickly that when people were doing their laundry, they were looking for peace. It was a tedious chore and the last thing they needed was someone breathing down their neck. Sometimes, there was the occasional person who was looking to chat, which you obliged to eagerly in order to break the silence.

It had been a clear, but cold, evening when she first came in. With none of the machines in use, the only mechanical buzz came from the vending machine in the corner that offered up stale snack-cakes and off brand soda.

Out of habit, when the bell sounded, you leaned back in the office chair and peaked around the doorframe into the main space. You were designated to the small room that had a desk, and place to sit, but was mainly a storage closet. The mini-fridge was sidled up next to a mop bucket that smelled so thickly of musk, no one tended to use either.

The woman didn’t look familiar to you. Over time you had gotten to know the regulars, and you were certain that you would remember her. Even under the harsh overhead lights, you clocked her beautiful complexion, her focused green eyes as she dug in her pockets for change. Her hair was an electrifying red, lips pursed together in frustration.

She didn’t’ have a laundry basket with her, nor her own soap. It seemed as if she were entirely unprepared to do any type of wash, and that made your fingers twitch nervously. You watched, cheeks heating up, as she stripped her shirt off and loaded it into the machine.

Goosebumps rose on her perfect skin, yet, she didn’t’ seem to mind; and holy shit, she was sporting a tight pack of abs. She shimmied her pants off and you forced yourself to look away. This was wrong. Admiring a gorgeous figure was one thing, but you refused to let your eyes linger.

Instead, you went back to your book, reading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words were sticking. All you could think about was the curve of the woman’s mouth, how good it would feel to have it kiss every inch of your body, leaving little bruises in her wake. You were hopeless.

“Excuse me?”

The book flew from your hands, crashing onto the linoleum as you placed both feet firmly on the floor. She had been quiet in her endeavor to find you, to find anyone. It was nearly unnerving how she had wandered over undetected.

She was clad in a black lace bra and a pair of sweatpants that hugged her tightly and left little to the imagination. The amount of skin she was showing didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had flustered you.

“I think the soap dispenser ate my quarters.”

“Yeah, yes, uh” You shot to your feet at a dizzying speed “it does that. I have… key.”

She lifted both of her eyebrows at you, and you swore that you saw her smirk. You scooted past her, and she made no attempt to move. You could feel her body heat, your front pressing against hers. You did your best to mentally scold yourself for the reaction your body had to the proximity of hers. She smelled like vanilla, like something more biting that you couldn’t place your finger on. The stranger tracked your every movement.

“Just you tonight?” She asked, voice lilted.

You hummed nervously in response before heading over the small manual vending machine that would dispense little packets of soap if you had chosen to use it on the right day. She followed closely behind you, and you felt her heated stare as you unlocked the case.

“Pick your poison.”

“Mm, what do you recommend?”

“Um,” You turned, her eyes were glinting mischievously, arms crossed over her chest. It was almost painful keeping yourself modest in this situation. You refused to let them wander, but squeezed your thighs together to dispel the thoughts. “Tide.”

“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”

The woman reached forward and grabbed the suggested package. She didn’t’ wait for your response. Instead, she sauntered back over to her machine.

Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, and it was hard to lock the soap back up without fumbling. You’d dropped the keys twice before picking them up and succeeding in your task. Building up the confidence, you turned to ask if the woman needed anything else, but were once again, stilled in your movements.

She shimmied out of her sweatpants in a painstakingly slow manner. It was deliberate, you were sure, and if you weren’t than the salacious eye contact she made with you while straightening up and throwing her sweatpants in with the rest of her load confirmed it.

She was wearing the slightest bit of fabric in a black lace that matched her bra. Your eyes betrayed you, scouring her head to toe for any imperfection, but you found none. She was utterly perfect.

This had to be some type of test. There were hidden cameras somewhere and your overnight job that paid you a measly 7.50 an hour was trying to test your morals. This was the devil, and she was in lingerie, lilting her head at you expectantly.

“Damn it all,” She cooed, frowning down at the machine “It seems I don’t know how to work this thing at all. Every machine is different, you know? I might need a little help.”

Fuck.

You must not have moved because a few moments later she let out a breathy chuckle. “That is your job, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

She smelled like spiced coffee, something you caught a whiff of because she didn’t attempt to step back when you joined her. There was an immense body heat radiating from her, and you fought back a whimper when her hand touched the base of your spine. She was peering over your shoulder. She simply hadn’t pressed start- but you weren’t going to tell her that.

Instead, you savored the sparingly tantalizing touch and hit the button yourself. A low whirring filled the room. It was a sound that you were more than familiar with. The cycles of the washing machine were counted as easily as your own breaths.

“Dense, aren’t you?”

“hmm?”

You felt your cheeks redden as you turned to face her. Your back was flush against the machine, replacing her hand on your spine. You instantly missed her touch. She was so close to you now, but still took another step closer as if you could climb into the washer to avoid her.

“Sweet girl, I’ve thrown every hint at you in the book.” Her fingers came up to the collar of your shirt, dancing at its hem, right past the fabric until they left blazing trails on your collarbone. You clenched your eyes shut, letting out a shuttered exhale. “While I do love a woman with manners, must I ask?”

“I’m not sure I… understand.”

She whispered against your lips, not quite touching “You’re much too tightly wound, darling. Do you want mommy to take care of you?”

No one has ever asked you this before. Most of your partners, while satisfying, wouldn’t dare murmur anything close to what this stranger had just said. And you were much too shy to ask. Instead, you settled for spicy romance novels, and a magic wand that never seemed to itch that insatiable scratch.

“Don’t be so shy now. I saw the novel you were reading earlier. It’s just such a coincidence that it’s just the two of us here.”

Your forehead was pressed against hers and you stared into intense fern-colored eyes. God, you wanted her to take you right here, right now. There was something much too scandalous about fucking in the open, a feeling that you wanted to capture and savor.

“All you have to do is ask.”

You swore there was a slight Russian lilt to her voice. The more she got worked up, the more in was shining through. Her breath was quickening in pace with yours, the proximity of her making you press your thighs together to quell the excitement that threatened to drip through the fabric of your pants.

“Please,”

Her hand came up and gripped your chin in a fluid movement, manicured fingers squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. “Please what, Kotenok? What do you need from mommy?”

“Touch me,” It came out as a whimper that was much too desperate for you liking, “I need to feel you.”

An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat before she pushed her mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You parted your lips, groans muffled by her tongue swirling around your mouth. She tasted like coffee, the same you had smelled earlier.

She reached down and ripped your shirt open, the pearlescent buttons popping away and scattering under the many machines around you both. You didn’t have much time to protest the destruction of your shirt before she palmed your breasts.

There was a mischievous look in her eyes at the front latching bra you wore. “Wow, you really are a little desperate slut, aren’t you?”

She unhooked and discarded the garment before you could get out more than a hungry noise. Her lips attached to one of your nipples, her hand grasping the other breast and giving it an almost-painful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing more of yourself into her hot mouth. Her tongue licked away the goosebumps raising against your skin in response to her ministrations.

You would have done just about anything for her at this moment, her fingers delicately ghosting over your stomach at the waistline of your jeans. Each shuttered breath pushed you closer to her.

In a swift movement she lifted you onto the top of the washing machine. You weren’t prepared for the bout of strength, nor the spin cycle that was happening below you. Another whimper escaped you and she looked at you with a wolfish smile.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you dare think about cuming on top of an appliance.” She squeezed your hip and you took the cue to lift yourself enough for her to pull your jeans down and discard them with your panties. “Though, it appears your wet enough at the idea.”

A downright beautiful woman had you sweating and naked on top of a washing machine, promising to take care of your every need, no matter how salacious it was. Of course you were wet, dripping, actually.

Still, you flushed when she worked a single finger up your slit, testing it for herself. You shivered at the simple gesture, falling close to her. You felt her chuckle at your expense. “Mm, Kotenok, so desperate.”

Her thumb brushed against your cheek, you could smell your own sex on her fingers. She’d barely touched you, yet they were soaked. They traced your lips and you parted them on the silent command. There was a satisfied look on her eyes, at how easily you had folded for her.

You sucked her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Her stare was starving. “God, you’d look amazing choking on my strap, darling. I’m sure it’d stretch you out nicely.”

You groaned against her fingers, something that sounded along the lines of ‘fuck’ escaped you. Her other hand dipped lower, a gentle touch brushing against your clit. Your breath hitched, and you fell forward, you head on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you garbled, careful not to bite down on her fingers, but thankful that they muffled your expletives. “I want to cum.”

“Mm, but darling, you have to let mommy have her way with you, no matter how long it takes. That’s what good little whores do. That’s what toys do.”

God, you’d do exactly that, anything to sate the need that made you want to buck desperately against the machine under you. It’s vibrations were slowing, but that didn’t stop your crude wanting to climax.

Without warning, the woman inserted a single digit into you. A gasp sounded around her fingers. She curled her touch inside of you and you pressed further into her. A fine sheen of sweat coated you both, the laundromat hot during the late summer night.

“You’re so tight.” She chuckled again, “Are you sure you can handle another?”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, pet?”

“Yes… Mommy.”

She was conditioning you with her words, and that much was clear, but you didn’t seem to care. This stranger had sauntered into your place of work and now had you under her full command with a few simple touches and an effective edging technique.

Another finger pushed into you, and you started to push down further into her. You weren’t sure what she saw in you that made her approach you like this. It had to be more than the novel, plenty of people indulged in smut. Maybe it was the desperation- your need to please in the most mundane of situations.

“Good girl,” she growled against the small of your neck, finally pulling her fingers from your swollen lips. You missed their taste, their feel against your tongue. “I’m sure you can handle a third, you desperate little slut.”

“I can,” You stuttered, tightening around her as she did just as promised. She flexed them inside you, drawing a whorish moan from the back of your throat. The woman started to pump slowly, at first, in and out of you until you felt something build in your core.

You hugged her close, the scratchy fabric of her bra pressing against your nipples, drawing them to points with their expert pressure. The sensation was phenomenal, something you never wanted to end. You hugged her close, your nails digging into the warm expanse of her back.

“Ask nicely, sweet girl.” She growled in your ear.

“Can I please cum?” You clenched your eyes shut, she quickened her pace, the word came out broken, but you didn’t care if you sounded like you were pleading, you absolutely were. “please. I’ll do anything.”

You could feel her smile against your shoulder “Go on, slut. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

Her declaration was all you needed to finally give in to her attentive movements. The feeling that was building so deliciously in your core finally released in the most mind-boggling orgasm you had ever had. You silenced your own scream in her shoulder, but it could only do so much. You were thankful it was just the two of you in here, or your shame may have overtaken you.

She continued to pump in and out of you with her fingers, flexing and curling them expertly as you rode out your climax. You were shaking against her, nearly crying into the small of her neck when she pulled out of you entirely, wiping the slick on her fingers against your thighs.

Perhaps too kindly, she let you breathe against her for a moment, catching your bearings, her hand dragging against your bare back with a comforting amount of pressure. She was proud of herself, that much was clear in her movements. She knew in that moment that she was the best you had ever had; quite possibly the one person who you’d compare all the rest to.

The washer let out an unceremonious beep that had you chuckling, finally pulling back enough to see the woman’s face, shocked to see a bit of admiration behind her eyes. She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“Hm,” she hummed, giving you a dazzlingly genuine smile. “I guess the spin cycle is over.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x female reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x female reader #Marvel imagine #Black Widow #Request

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thebirdsandthebats · 1 year ago

Text

Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.

He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.

“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.

“Yeah. Tastes even better.”

What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.

“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.

He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.

“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”

“Ohmygod.”

Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”

Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.

“Wh—”

“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.

Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.

“Nope. Let’s suit up.”

After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.

Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.

stop spamming the gc

Dick: it’s august .. here we go

Steph: birthday month babey!!

Duke: my wallet…

Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)

Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY

Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.

Steph: you text like you’re 84

Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.

Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.

He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.

“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.

“…um, they think I can cook.”

Bernard burst out laughing.

Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”

Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.

When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”

Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.

Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.

That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.

“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.

Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.

He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.

“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.

A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.

“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”

Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.

The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”

“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”

#This was meant to just be a silly post but it got away from me #I HAVENT POSTED A FICLET IN. idk. CENTURIES #ficlet #fic #dc comics #batfamily #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake robin #td:r

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crafty-butch · 29 days ago

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Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

#fiction #storycrafty-butch

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patrophthia · 2 years ago

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triwizard tournament | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

genre: fake dating, fluff, angst, pining¿?, OOC james?? basically the plot of goblet of fire if it took place during the marauders era, not proofread!

wc: 7.4K

originally posted on wattpad

"plus, you're incredibly pretty, i'm really not opposed to keep telling people we're together."

"keep?"

"yeah keep." james lifted his head up and looked at her sheepishly. "she's going to run the story which means we'll need to keep the story going, i'll pay you, anything, i'll take you to your favorite shops and buy you whatever you want, just help me with this."

"with what money?"

"with the money that i'll win from the tournament." there's that confidence. "so... yes or no?"

there was a crash somewhere close to her, before she could even look up to find out what the ruckus was about; four boys found themselves around her seat.

"i'm so sorry." a voice whispered from her left. "hey! this is my girlfriend, [name]. bug, this is amy reid."

"hi," 'amy' greeted. before she could even wrap her head around what was going on, she smiled at amy, a short brunette woman who looked roughly in her thirties. "how long have you been together?"

"since last year." one of the other boys answered.

"oh." amy turned from the boy and back to her. "how charming young love is."

"so." amy clapped her hands. it was only then did she realized that amy had someone following after, short and timid; the boy had a notepad in his hand, jotting everything down word for word. "tell me about your love story."

"my love story?" she repeated under her breath.

amy nodded frantically. "your love story of course, how you met, how you started dating, all that good stuff."

"right." she glanced to her left and was no where near surprised when she realized it was james potter, of fucking course, it was james potter who she was in this situation with. "our love story."

sitting opposite both james and her was sirius and remus with peter hovering behind them. she must've made a face, one that was amusing, seeing as sirius grinned at her once their eyes met.

"well," amy murmured. "it seems as though you don't know where to start." amy turned to the boy behind her before she turned back around. "how did you two meet?"

"we share the same classes." that wasn't a lie. "and i thought she was incredibly pretty so i asked her out." liar. "it's quiet a boring story, actually."

"and you?" amy turned to her. "what did think about james?"

"i thought he was—" annoying, loud, dramatic. "charming." amy seemed to like her answer, smiling as she turned to tell the boy to note it down verbatim. "and he was handsome too so it's a plus."

"isn't that just adorable," amy cooed, then her entire behavior shifts. "so what's your opinion about this whole triwizard tournament thing? are you worried, excited? how did you feel when you found out james would be competing?"

honestly? she didn't really give a fuck. she'd hoped that he won the tournament for hogwarts but she couldn't have cared less. "i was really worried, you know. i didn't want my boyfriend to die."

amy smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "well it was nice meeting you, [name]. all though i've got to catch up with the other two contestants as well, i hope we can meet again soon."

"you too." and with that, amy and her minion left. once she was finally out of their sight, the four boys huffed out a long dramatic breath. "girlfriend, huh?"

james collapsed on the table, hiding his face in his arms. "i'm sorry." was this the confident gryffindor everyone had a crush on? "i panicked and you were the only girl i recognized, everyone else was a third year."

sirius bit his lips, hiding his laughter as james dug his head deeper and deeper into his hands. "plus, you're incredibly pretty, i'm really not opposed to keep telling people we're together."

"keep?"

"with what money?"

"with the money that i'll win from the tournament." there's that confidence. "so... yes or no?"

•••

amy did run the story. along with the story that she might or might not be one of james many lover —this was because, sirius had thought it would be funny to have the other seventh years tell reid that they've all slept with james (how he got them to agree, she didn't know).

james was the first person she saw the next morning (besides her dorm mates). he invited her to have breakfast with his friend, an invitation that she accepted and had found herself quiet fond of everyone he surrounded himself with.

they were all so . . . gryffindor. and she meant that as a compliment.

james walked her to her first class, then her second, then any other that she had after it. once dinner time came, james was the one who awaited her by the great hall.

"hi," he said once he spotted her.

"hi?" she knew they had to keep up and image but she didn't expect to be keeping it up so constantly. "what are you doing here?"

"waiting for you," he answered, james reached forward for the strap of her bag, taking it with ease and began walking into the great hall. "how was your day?"

"it was good." she then proceeded to tell him how everything went, trailing behind him as she tried to ignore the stares that followed her. "how was yours?"

james opened his mouth, an answer already at the tip of his tongue before he shut it quickly, looking perplexed. he was quiet for a second; feeling so so stupid and stunned. for, the only thing he had thought about all day was her. "it was good."

•••

the first task was coming up and with how nosy the marauders are, it was only a matter of time before they found out what the first task was: "dragons." and peter said this enthusiastically because, it was something he never thought he'd ever see in real life.

"that's easy then," said sirius, digging into some yorkshire pudding. "you can just use the conjunctivitis curse, a dragon's eyes are its weakest point."

"yeah but it could end violently," she pointed out. "what if the dragon lashed out and kills him."

"what about a broom then?" lily suggests whilst passing the salt to marlene. "if he flies fast enough, he'd be able to maneuver his way around."

"around what, though?" remus murmured. "we know that the task involves dragons. but what to do with it exactly, we have no clue."

"no matter what, i stick by it," said lily. "broom stick."

broom stick turned out to be the best method. james had gone last after he picked the hungarian horntail. from behind the tents, james wasn't able to watch his competitors —soren from beauxbatons who had gotten the welsh green and amerie from durmstrang who confronted the chinese fireball— attempts but he knew what he needed to do.

steal the golden egg from the clutches of the dragons they'd picked. james had finished the fastest, maneuvering his way around on his broomstick like lily had suggested.

once the tournament wrapped up, amy reid spared no moment before she started bombarding him with questions. how did you feel? was it ecstatic? how does it feel to be the best? and when [name] went down to see him, why isn't your girlfriend giving you a celebratory kiss?

"uhm—" what the fuck does one say to that "—we're not comfortable with showing much PDA."

amy frowned. "oh c'mon you two look great together, it's only just the couple of us. just a kiss for the front page shouldn't matter."

james looked at her skeptically, pushing his glasses upwards. "i don't think us kissing has anything to do with the task i've just finished."

"it doesn't," amy concurred. "but the viewers wants to know more about to the two of you. you've only said that you were together but no single living person have seen the two of you on a date. we're starting to suspect that you're faking it."

"then kissing wouldn't make a difference," remus chirped in. "wouldn't the viewers just make up some crap about them kissing just for the sake of faking it."

"i suppose they could," amy said, smiling patronizingly. "but why should we risk it when you two are so obviously in love."

"it's—" remus sputtered but it was obviously that he had no counter argument.

james only shook his head, stopping remus and took a step forward. he leaned in slowly and with his voice low, lips brushing against her ear. "can i kiss you?"

he waited, one, two, three seconds, before she nodded. james head tilted backwards the slightest bit before his lips crashed onto her. his arm snuck around her waist and held onto her, bringing her close to his chest almost desperately. his lips lingered until finally, the camera clicked and he pulled away.

and, with a twist of her stomach, she was bitterly reminded that this was all for show.

•••

"wait—" her desk partner called after her, his hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her in her place. "wait, please."

so she did, she waited and turned to face him. standing six feet tall, looking as bright as a golden retriever, smiling his best smile, and her new desk mate. soren edmé. her 'boyfriends' competitor.

"there's the uhm—" he paused, hand scratching the back of his neck shyly. he was handsome, extremely so, handsome enough to rival dorian gray himself. "the yule ball. would you like to go?"

"together?"

"yes -uhm, yes together." his accent was oddly enough, extremely welsh despite coming from france. "as a date."

fuck. on any other day she'd have said yes with no hesitation, but when you're in a relationship —albeit a fake one, with the competitor of the person who was asking you out on a date. saying yes is just straight out betrayal.

"oh." soren sounded deflated and she hadn't even replied yet, was her face really that expressive? "you already have a date, don't you? potter right?"

at her nod, soren smiled softly, accepting his rejection with grace. gosh, he's basically blond sirius.

soren bit her goodbye, muttering something about the golden egg and quickly rushed to catch up with his friends.

she made her way out as well, meeting marlene in the hallways as she greeted her with a large grin. "guess who just got a date for the yule ball."

"lily?" she teased.

"har har you're so funny," marlene said with a roll of her eyes. "anyways, i asked dorcas and she said yes! isn't that just adorable?"

"it sure is," said lily, joining the two of them as they passed by. "it was getting unbearable with how much you were pining after her."

"anyways." lily handed her wand to marlene and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "have you gotten a date yet?"

"no, i'm waiting on james to ask." she made sure not to mention a single thing about soren.

"why don't you just ask him?" said marlene easily, handing lily her wand back. "why wait?"

because, she wouldn't be able to handle rejection as elegantly as soren did. "asking's too much work. i'll just wait."

"what about you, lils?"

lily shrugged. "a pretty french boy asked me to go with him," she said easily, once she noticed the look on their faces, she quickly clarified. "laurent, his name is laurent, he's as handsome as his friends. he's nice too, so i said yes."

"so you both got dates then?"

"and you." marlene looked at her with false sympathy. "nothing."

"actually, i got asked—"

"what are you pretty ladies talking about?" cut in james. he had his glasses off, opting them out for contact lenses. why he chose to do so? she didn't know.

"yule ball dates." said both lily and marlene.

james' brows raised dramatically. "really?" ignoring the daggers marlene stated through him. "must've slipped my mind."

"aren't you going to ask her to be your date?" no more subtleties then. thanks lily. "she's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

"about that." james drawled, a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. and as she thought he was going to ask, she watched him patiently. "i'm not going with you."

right.

of course.

why would he?

it's not like they were actually together. this was for show and that was all to it.

one for the money. two for the show. james was getting ready so she should let him go.

she hadn't planned to ask him furthermore. she already knew why he didn't want to go with her but if she had planned to. marlene beat her to it. "why not?"

"don't you need a date to the ball? you're a triwizard champion and all?" lily added on.

"i never said i didn't have a date," said james.

it shouldn't have bothered her, really, it shouldn't have. and yet, she couldn't help but feel —for the lack of better words— stupid for expecting other wise. of course, james potter of all people wouldn't go to the yule ball with her. he was the leading man after all.

"then what's about [name]?" lily asked, eyes wide with offense. "you're just going to leave her alone?"

"she doesn't mind." james turned to her. "do you?"

"no." she shook her head. "it's nothing, of course i don't mind."

•••

"aren't you coming with us?" jolene asked as she got ready to start the day. "don't you need to pick out a dress for the ball?"

"no." not when she had no plans in attending it in the first place. "i don't want to go."

"why not?" jolene moved away from her own vanity and onto her bed. "this happens once every eternity, how can you not go."

"i just—" am dreading seeing james with someone else, dreading being near his mere presence. "—don't want to."

"not a good enough reason," jolene told her. "you're coming with us to buy a dress, and you're coming with us to that god forsaken ball."

jolene was persistent, she knew that for a fact. and now, as she stood in front of rack stacked with pretty dresses, she was once again reminded about just how persistent jolene was.

"how about this one?" she lifted up a blue dress that was mostly made from tool and lace. "it's pretty."

"it also looks like her tits could pop out any second," rose (their other roommate, and jolene's long term girl friend) murmured, dismissing it with a wave of hand. "why don't you just let her pick something for herself?"

"because, she won't," jolene said sharply. "she's convinced herself that she doesn't want to go. where's the fun in that?"

rose's eyes shifted between the two girls, biting the inside of cheek until finally, she stopped. "why don't you want to go?"

"because, i don't want to," she answered simply. when jolene made a face, she felt the need to add on. "and i don't have a date."

"you don't?" rose asked, surprised. "what about potter? he's not going with you?"

"no."

"why not?" jolene sounded infuriated. "what kind of shit boyfriend doesn't take their girlfriend to a ball?"

"it's complicated."

"just how complicated?" jolene followed up. "c'mon, explain," she demanded, sitting down on the shop's many waiting chairs. "we have all day."

so she did. from to start to finish. "jesus," jolene muttered once she finished. "what kind of dick move is that? no wonder i like women."

rose pursed her lips. "what about soren? does he still want to go with you?"

"i dunno," she answered honestly. "and even if he did i don't think i'd be able to go with him, not when i rejected him."

"then you'll go with us," said jolene, standing up. "the three of us can go together."

•••

the entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the great hall would be thrown open. those people who were meeting partners from different houses were edging through the crowd, trying to find each other.

jolene had found lily and led her to where rose and [name] were waiting. the oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the durmstrang students entering with their professor. amerie was at the front of the party, accompanied by —oddly enough, peter pettigrew in dark robes that matched her dress.

how the two got together, she'll figure that out later.

she still hadn't seen james or soren, but buried the thought and went into the great hall like the rest of her friends.

the walls of the hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. the house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

they found themselves by one of the many tables, chatting along as they waited for the ball to kick start itself.

once everyone in the hall settled, the champions and their dates walked in in lines. first to come in was amerie and peter —and odd couple that looked honestly cute with one another in a way she couldn't explain. the second to walk through the door was soren and a pretty girl in purple robes.

then —at last, was james potter. and his date. dates, actually. james had brought two dates. his dates who were wearing bright red dresses. ones that matched james' cut for cut. james potter and his dates were wearing the same dresses. james potter was wearing a dress. and so was his dates, sirius black and remus lupin.

"they're taking the piss out of this," jolene cackled loudly, a domino effect that soon spread throughout the hall: each students laughing loudly at the sight before them.

the three boys grinned, —well two really, james and sirius; remus was plain out grimacing— happy to have created such an uproar. searching hazel eyes met hers through the crowd, watching the most minuscule of her reaction with his lips curving upwards.

then he mouthed something, and despite being a shit mouth reader. she thought he told her to: "save me a dance."

the three boys started walking up towards a large round table at the top of the hall, where the judges were sitting.

when all the food had been consumed. dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. then, at a wave of his wand, tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right hand wall. a set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

the weird sisters now trooped up onto the stage to enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy, and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. they picked up their instruments, and came to realize that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the champions and their partners were standing up.

the band played a slow song and she could see her friends separating. jolene and rose. lily and laurent. and finally marlene and dorcas. they looked reluctant in leaving her alone but with multiple shakes of her heads, they left towards the dance floor.

"hello." was the first thing soren said once he found her. "can i have a dance?"

she was skeptical, not wanting to steal him away from whoever his date was. soren, seeming as though he'd read her mind, smiled.

"we only came as friend." he told her. "she fancies this guy and wanted to make him jealous. it's the least i can do when the girl i wanted to come with already had a date."

she laughed, the irony of her coming as her friend's third wheel not lost. "poor you."

"poor me," he repeated, smiling charmingly. "now about that dance?"

she opened her mouth, ready to agree when someone came before her. drowning in red tool was james potter, positively beaming.

"hi." james smiled, and she noticed that once again, he had opted his glasses out for contact lenses. "can i have this dance?"

she turned to soren, watching as his face drop. his expression quickly shifts, rose-colored lips tugging into a small smile as he shrugged and sent her off.

at her nod, james' grin widened. offering a hand out, she placed her hand onto it and james made use of it by holding on tightly as he tried navigating the dance floor.

before they had gotten far, soren stopped them by calling out james' name. james turned, so did she, and found the blond looking hesitant.

finally, soren let up. "have you figured out what's inside egg yet?" he asked james directly.

james shook his head, brows knitted. "no."

"you should try putting it in water—" he paused, licking his lips. "—you'll find it very helpful if you did so."

"okay," james murmured, clearly skeptical. "how'd you find out?"

"laurent is very clumsy," soren said off-handedly, his eyes then briefly glanced towards her. "but you should look into it, i think i might need some help when it comes to it."

and with a fond smile, soren left the pair alone. james shook his head, only then realizing that their hands were still intertwined. james didn't make a move to let go, only continuing on his journey to finding the perfect place for their dance.

once they found a good spot, not too crowded and yet not too bare with the music loud enough for them to be able to hear one another. james guided both her hands to his shoulders —bare due to the off the shoulder cut he wore, and placed his hands on her waist.

"you didn't think i would come with someone else did you?" he asked, swaying. "because, quite honestly i couldn't even dream of it. it was you or no one else."

she didn't know what to say. didn't know how to control the fact that his word had sent butterflies to her stomach so she settled for an easy: "really?"

james smiled, and nodded bashfully. "really. it was the only think i thought of when minnie told us about the ball."

"right," she murmured. "but then i had to compete with two pretty lads wearing dresses so i obviously lost."

"obviously." his tone was light and teasing. "how could one compete with this pretty dress?"

she glanced down, finally taking the piece in and giggled. the dress was a bright red, off shoulder, princess dress. he looked charmingly ridiculous save for his handsome face (despite it losing its iconic presence).

"why aren't you wearing your glasses?" she made sure not to step on the tools of his dress as they dance. "you haven't been wearing them for a while now. why the change?"

james shrugged. "why not the change?" with a roll of her eyes, james answered honestly. "because, i thought you'd like it."

"why?"

"a couple weeks back, whilst working with lily at her dorm, i took my glasses of to clean them and mckinnon told me i looked handsome." he stopped for a second, gulping. "i'd thought you'd agree so i started opting for contact lenses instead."

"i guess i did it to impress you."

heart: melted. "james."

"bug," he said in return, using the same pet name he had called her when he first painted himself to be her boyfriend.

"thank you for doing this. i do think you look nice with contact lenses." she smiled, an action that he reciprocated. "but i think i preferred it more when you don't have to worry about your contacts drying up."

"i'll keep that in mind."

•••

"wormie," james called out. "lock the door, will you?"

peter did as told, locking the prefect's bathroom door whilst watching as his friends —sirius and james, to be specific— strip into their swimming trunks with remus, and james' pretend girlfriend standing by the edge of the pool.

remus had the golden egg in hand, passing it down to james once he settled into the water. the tub was clear for the most part, the group had decided that that was best.

any bubbles would obscure the view of what happens to the egg.

james with the egg in hand, shot her a playful look. "you sure you don't want to come in, bug? the water's very nice."

with her back pressed against the wall and her arms crossed in front of her chest. she quipped, "never have i ever before."

with a final smile, james turned to sirius who was watching them with careful eyes. james then proceeded to slowly lower the egg into the water, scared that this might be soren's plan on ruining james chances in winning.

but james had always been trustful. so once nothing happened after submerging the egg, james' hand reached over to open it and this time —unlike the several other times, the marauders attempted to open it— it did not wail.

instead a gurgling song was coming from it, a song who's word they could not distinguish through the water. "put your head under," remus told them.

sirius and james took in a deep breath, and slid under the surface —and now, sitting on the marble bottom of the tub, they heard a chorus of eerie voices singing to them from the open egg on james' hand.

come seek us where our voices sound. we cannot sing above the ground, and while you're searching, ponder this we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took, but past an hour - the prospect's black too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

"note this down," said james, rising up from the water. peter scrambled to his book bag, grabbing the first piece of paper and quill he could find and waited for james to recall whatever the song was.

it was barely days before the second task, which meant they were running on borrowed time. after dressing as quickly as they could, the five of them began their way towards the library.

they ended the first and second day empty handed, not having a single piece of formation at their aid. the third, which was one day before d-day, was almost repetitive of the last two days. keyword: almost.

as the sun began setting and the five grew tired from the lack of findings, the sight of lily evans and frank longbottom was practically god sent.

lily was the first one to speak, noticing their miserable expressions. "still nothing?"

"nope," james concurred, head buried into his books. "absolutely nothing."

"honestly, after million of years of magic there ought to be at least one or two charms that helps you breathe underwater but there's absolutely none."

"what do you mean there's none?" lily asked with confusion.

"there's absolutely zero." james exaggerated. "we've been here for days and still haven't got a thing."

"do you think maybe you've been looking for it in the wrong books?"

"no." james drawled, then he turned to lily. "do you know something i don't?"

"a few," she murmured. "like the scuba spell and the bubble head charm both of which are used to breathe underwater."

"and gilly weed," frank added.

"brilliant," james said sarcastically. "why have we been here all day when we could've asked this two geniuses. why are you even here anyways?"

"professor mcgonagall sent us to fetch those three." lily pointed to [name], sirius, and peter.

she hadn't done anything wrong if she could recall. so why did professor mcgonagall want to see her?

"why?" sirius asked before she could.

"she wouldn't tell," frank shrugged. "she was looking a bit grim when she asked for you three, though."

"we're supposed to take you down to her office," said lily.

the trio stood, standing side by side. "we'll meet you back at the common room."

when morning came, james had somehow acquired gilly weed by sneaking into one of the many green houses on the school's grown. he put on his contacts —seeing as it would be better for him to not worry about losing his glasses— and hoped for the best.

he remembered a brief conversation he had the night before. frank longbottom was half asleep and half delirious; his words mumbling with one another. "do you know how to swim?" he'd asked.

"yes, no. well— well enough for me to complete this task," james answered.

"okay," frank murmured, nodding off from his bed. "just remember, if you forget how to swim, just wiggle like a worm and you'll be alright."

remus and james shared a look, hiding their laughs. "thanks."

neither sirius, peter nor her had return —or maybe they did but he had missed them. maybe they had gotten back after he'd went to bed and gotten up early for whatever mcgonagall needed. or maybe they hadn't returned at all.

james shrugged away those thoughts as he had breakfast, his head interpreting the song as many way as he possible could.

they had taken something from him that he'd surely missed and he had an hour to retrieve it, if the hour passes and he had yet to retrieve it, whatever it was would be gone.

and now as he stood on the edge of the platform, upset that neither his best friend or girl friend was there to cheer for him, james took a great breath, ate his gilly weed and dived in.

the lake was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this was fire, not icy water. the first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life, and james realized then that he had grown gills.

james stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. they looked green and ghostly under the water, and they had became webbed. he twisted around and looked at his bare feet - they had become elongated and his toes were webbed, too, it looked as though he had sprouted flippers.

the gryffindor smiled to himself; he was partially a merman, brilliant

he swam deeper and deeper —and mentally wondered if he looked like a worm. he turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever apainst his cardrums. james thought he must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing seemed to be moving except for the rippling weeds.

he swam on for what felt like at least twenty more minutes, passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mer-song.

an hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took,

he swam faster, and found a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead that had paintings of merpeople on it. though terrified for his life, james pushed it aside and swam forward, following the mer-song.

. . . your time's half gone, so hurry not lest what you seek stays here to rot . . .

a cluster of crude stone dwellings strained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom of all sides. here and there by the windows james saw faces.

all of which had greyish skins and long, wild, dark green hair. their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and in, wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. they leered at james ,as he swam past, one or two of them emerged from their caves, to watch him better, their powerful, silver fishtails beating the waves with spears clutched in their hands.

james sped up and a strange sight met his eyes.

a whole crowd of merpeople were floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. a choir of merpeople were singing in the middle, calling the champions towards them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. three people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

[name] was tied between sirius and peter. all three of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

james froze briefly, not knowing who exactly he meant to be saving. he cared for the three of them deeply, his two best friends and the girl who had helped him more than he could've asked for.

james shook away his thoughts and sped towards the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and change at him, but they did nothing. the ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy and very strong.

he looked around. many of the merpeople surrounding them were camping spears and wondered if he could've borrowed one of their spears but, he knew that they wouldn't let him.

this was his task, he needed to finish it himself.

so james swirled around, looking for anything that would suffice. then it hit him —quite literally, an object hit his head and he turned as quickly as he could to find soren watching him.

the object fell to the bottom and james registered it as a covered butterfly knife, he was unsure what to do with it. what was he playing at?

"get him." soren told him, his voice was clear; the bubble-head charm was useful when it came to this. soren grabbed another knife from his pocket, opening it up to hack at the ropes on [name]'s ankle, when they broke soren spoke once more. "hurry."

so she was what he would've missed most?

when soren left and amerie came, her making quick work at peter's rope. james was reminded that he was soon to run out of time. james dove down, picking up the knife soren had thrown at him and began cutting at sirius' ropes.

once they broke, james wrapped an arm around sirius' torso and began swimming upwards. when he felt his head break the surface of the lake, he pulled sirius up with him.

amerie and peter came up just seconds after, making the crowd in the stands let out a great deal of noise, shouting and screaming, everybody seemed to be on their feet. james had the impression that they'd thought that sirius, peter and amerie might be dead but they were wrong.

sirius expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to james and said, "i've never had someone make me this wet before."

james ignored him, too preoccupied with the fact that not only was soren's price possession his girlfriend but that soren had helped him twice now. and the lad didn't seem to be expecting anything in return.

he removed his arm from sirius' torso and swam towards the platform. his entire body ached, his previous fish-like feet and hands turned back to their normal state, clearly human as days.

amy reid was quick at rushing towards the pair of them once they rose. asking james question after question about why soren had saved his girlfriend, why soren was looking at her with so much concern and affection as he tried to help her recover from the task, and finally, why wasn't he angry that soren was doing so.

james didn't know for one. and for two, he really had no rights to be angry. she wasn't his girlfriend and as much as they pretended that they were, he could never lie to himself about that. not when he had always been to scared to make a proper move.

"james." her voice was familiar to him, he turned around. she looking at him with wet hair and even wetter clothing. she then pressed a hand to his cheek, turning to gaze at each side. "are you okay?"

james gulped, nodding. "i'm fine, bug." he forced himself not to lean into her touch, warm and welcoming despite the coldness on her fingertips. "brilliant even."

he nodded his head forward, and found soren watching the pair of them; james smiled weakly, an attempt at thanking the blond. "how's he?"

"he's fine," she answered. "he's very ecstatic that he got first place. i think he might implode any second now."

"from what?" seeing her touching james so intimately when she was the thing he'd missed most and yet, he couldn't have her?

"excitement." she told him. "what else would it be?"

•••

as the day of the third task creeps closer and closer, so close that it was a night away. she can't help but feel worried for what's about to come.

the triwizard tournament has quite a record when it came to death. and she really didn't want to see her 'boyfriend', the guy who saved her life —albeit him being the cause of her possible death, and her friend's new girlfriend dying.

still, as the day approaches, all she could bring herself to do was help them every single way possible. james had gathered that the task had something to do with the quidditch pitch so he told soren as a form of repayment.

the five of them —it being her, james, sirius, remus and lily, for peter was helping amerie out— had found themselves in a secluded classroom, practicing spells after spells.

james had been acting mechanically lately, that she noticed. she wondered if it had anything to do with what happened during the second task— more specifically, soren. she decided not to ask, whatever was going on with james was not her problem.

she shouldn't want to know unless he decides to open up to her about it.

"bug." when she started responding to that pet name exactly, she couldn't pin point. "we're just about to leave, aren't you coming?"

"oh." she stood up from where she'd sat. "yeah, 'course."

"on second thought," james murmured, glancing between her and his friends who were stood by the door. "just go on without me, i need to speak to [name] for a bit."

the three bid their goodbye and left. james turned back to her when he could no longer hear their footsteps and almost smiled at the confused look on her face.

"i . . . kind of have to tell you something," he told her, swallowing hardly. "it's just that— the final task is tomorrow and the triwizard tournament is quite notorious for its deaths."

he then continued. "i suppose i'm telling you all this so i wouldn't regret it if something where to happen to me."

as james did everything and absolutely nothing at the same time, she can't help but think that this is it. this is where james decided that he'd used her until she was powerless, that he didn't need her anymore, that this was where it all ends.

and she didn't know/can't differentiate whether she feels happy or miserable over this. or if she felt both. but to her surprise, james confessed.

"i think i like you."

it took her one, two, three seconds to process this. i think i like you. he thinks he likes her. he thinks he fancies me. "what?"

"i lied," james began. "there was a reason i ran to you that day. i didn't know why i chose you then and still don't now but what i do know is that alice was there and we both know she's nice enough to help my lie to reid and yet, i chose you to help me out."

james took in a deep breath. "i couldn't stop thinking about you the days after, i didn't know why but i chose not to dwell on it for two long. and then the ball happened, you look so beautiful that i felt stupid for even considering going without you."

"i should've figured it out sooner but i didn't," he mumbled. "i still haven't figured it out now."

"what i have figured out is that i don't like seeing edmé look at you the same way i look at you. i don't like knowing that he cares about you as much as i care about you. i don't like that he's sure about his feelings for you while i'm not."

she put the pieces together then, it was so nice for him to lay it all out in front her.

"i think i fancy you, bug." he looked at her, really looked at her this time and said, "and i don't know what to do about it."

•••

whoever was running the tournament is a dumbass. who decided that putting a maze in a quidditch pitch was a good idea. who decided that making the final (and probably most important task) almost unwatchable was a good idea.

all she could make out from her seat was some random heads of hair, running round in every direction; all trying to reach the middle where the cup sat prettily on a platform.

both soren and james had gotten head starts. james for being the fastest during the first task and soren during the second.

it was about forty minutes into the task when the crowds started up, murmuring about a champion's return with the cup in hand.

everyone watched with baited breath, each school hoping that their school champion would pass through the maze as if they were the flash themselves.

and after a few more apprehensive minutes, the hogwarts students shoot up from their seats; screaming, yelling, shouting loudly in celebration. chanting the name potter over and over again when james walked out with the biggest grin he'd ever worn in his life.

lily pulled at her hand, leading her way down the stairs and onto the pitch where james stood handsomely, turning from cameras to cameras and to more cameras until he finally spotted them.

her more specifically.

james was practically beaming by then, turning to reid and told her kindly. "excuse me, i need to go kiss my girlfriend."

james passed the trophy to sirius on his way to her and grabbed onto her wrist, he led the way towards a secluded area and before she could even say hi; james had pressed his lips onto hers.

his bottom lips tugged between his teeth when he pulled away, looking at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes. "i won."

"you did," she concurred. "congratulations."

it didn't occur to her then what exactly had happened. they had kissed before, this was nothing new.

"i told you i'd win," he told her. "i'm never wrong about those stuff."

she only hummed, smiling and nodding as she let him take his win.

james, seemingly high on victory, told her almost breathlessly. "you are the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."

her eyes shot to the ground without intending to, mouth dry with no good response. james' hand found her chin, gently tilting her face upwards so he could get a good look at her.

"i like you," james said lowly. "that i'm sure of now. i really really like you, bug."

"and i would really like to kiss you and be your boyfriend for real this time." he finished.

james waited, one, two, three seconds, leaned in and when she made no move in pushing him away, he pressed her lips onto hers. kissing her with so much passion she would've fell if it weren't for him wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her desperately close to his chest, holding her tightly in place.

and this time, this time, she realized that there was no one watching. there was no cameras clicking, no one forcing him to kiss her to prove that it was all real because, this time james is kissing her because he wanted to. because, james was sure he likes her.

—from bee: this fic was one of my longest fic of all time sksksk i love james very much hehe

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter scenarios #james potter imagines #james potter fluff #james potter humor #james potter fanfiction #james potter au #Spotify #🧳: my writing

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notmorbid · 2 months ago

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i saw the tv glow.

dialogue prompts from i saw the tv glow (2024).

i know you're not too old for ____.

that looks like the best book ever.

what grade are you in?

is it okay if i come sit down?

are you sure you don't want a ride home?

i told my parents it was a sleepover.

are you sure it's alright if i sleep down here?

how are you feeling about ____?

it just seems like you're always somewhere else, lately.

i just want to know that you're on the right path.

what's happening to me? how do i know these things?

when i think about that stuff, it feels like someone took a shovel and dug out all of my insides. i know there's nothing in there, but i'm still too nervous to open myself up and check.

i know there's something wrong with me.

maybe you're afraid of what's inside you.

i'm getting out of this town. did you know that? soon.

i'll die if i stay here. i don't know how, exactly, but i know it's true.

pack as much as you can in your overnight bag.

you can't tell anyone we're leaving.

why don't you look at me? please?

do you need help?

do you remember me?

i know a place on the edge of town. it'll be safe for us to talk there.

you won't tell me where you've been this past decade?

are you sure that's all it was?

does time ever feel like it's not moving normally?

i'm trying to go slow. i don't want to alarm you.

will you tell me where you've been all these years?

you can't trust anybody in your life.

i made it all the way to ____ on the money i had saved.

the trees looked different, but everything else was exactly the same.

i felt like one of those dolls, asleep in the supermarket. stuffed.

this isn't normal. this isn't how life is supposed to feel.

i felt myself leaving myself. it was like i was watching myself on tv from across the room.

i knew i needed to come back and save you.

i haven't told you anything tonight that you don't already know.

i know it's scary. that's part of it.

it's not real if i don't think about it.

what if i was someone else?

you okay in there, buddy?

#rp meme #inbox memes #sentence starters #rp memes #ask meme #film meme #horror meme #lgbt

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funkycloewn · 3 months ago

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I've once again come from the dead to post lmaooo

After having avoided the pilot for so long in fear of getting sucked into the world and fandom, I finally watched Lackadaisy! (My fears were right btw as it has a grip on me rn) I love it and subsequently read the comic so I knew everything and wouldn't get spoilered.

Anyway, a little time after I came across the amazing interactive fic called the Under The Devil's Moon made by @libras-interactives

I enjoyed a lot (and can't wait for the next chapter/update) and couldn't help but make ocs due to this fic being a sort of self insert thing

These characters shown are only two out the five I made :]

It's sorta rambly but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! (Especially you, Iibra 🥺)

Name: Margaret Quinn

Nickname: Daisy

Date of Birth: October 26, 1889 (31 Years Old)

Personality:

(Mostly the usual callgirl personality with some stuff added into the mix)

Years of being in the industry, has shaped this feline to be calm, gentle and soft spoken. She knows what her customers want and acts accordingly so. Though, she doesn't particularly show it — that would be bad for her image as a callgirl — she is quick to give a person a label, to categorize them. She doesn't mean to be judgy but this mindset has helped her out countless of times, so she continues on; getting to know that someone is the only way for her to lift off the verdict she holds. With the ones she loves, Margaret is very caring towards. Making sure they're well fed with both food and love is one of her top priorities. (Though, recently that has been a difficult task to maintain) This, unfortunately, can make her pushy and stubborn even when she means well.

Romantic Relationship:

Out of all the characters to choose from I chose our friendly local bartender, Viktor Vasko. At one time I was thinking of either Zib or Sable but after reading about how he would treat Chester, I was sold. I can't for that romance to unfold! :D (rhyming unintended)

Other:

• She was born and lived most of her life in the outskirts of New Orleans

• Her mother succumbed to a yellow fever outbreak, leaving her and a few other kids orphaned.

• This led to her forming a group with said children and the four of them residing in an abandoned shack.

• Margaret knows how to fix things at least temporarily because of this (e.g. pipes and infrastructure).

• (This one is a little violent so warning for that :'D) Both her front paws are missing their claws. This is due to a farmer who got sick of her constantly stealing his chickens.

• The pearl necklace she has, was given to her by Flynn. She doesn’t like anyone to know that and avoids the question when asked who she got it from.

• She likes fidgeting with the pearls. The way they softly clack when moved and the feeling of them soothes her.

• Due to her motherly nature, she will "adopt" (translation: care and look after) anyone under the age of 25 with who she is somewhat close to, especially when they are boys

• She sees Jack and Marius as older sons of hers

• Rocky could (will) be a contender for the spot of a fourth son

• She always carries a box containing a sewing kit, buttons and patches

• This has come in handy plentiful of times for Jack, mostly. On rare occasions Marius is in need of them, though I would think he's picky on what she uses; they have to match.

• Though, she says she doesn't know who Chester's father is, she knows. She just doesn't like to acknowledge it.

Voice Claim: Tiana from Princess and the Frog

youtube

Name: Chester Quinn

Date of Birth: January 6, 1917 (3 Years Old)

Personality:

This little troublemaker, has a great fondness for being one with the earth. By that I mean, he loves digging. Chester likes creating craters at playgrounds or parks, all the while letting himself be covered in freshly dug up soil. Almost all of his clothes have a grass stain and Larochka fears that he might have stained his chubby little hands for eternity. Speaking of fashion, he hates wearing shoes. A tantrum is bound to occur if you simply try to make him wear a pair. Even if you somehow achieve the impossible, he will just claw them off and chuck them. However despite all that, he's well meaning and can be gentle at times. He enjoys snuggling with him Mama or Larochka. Chester is very social and when out he's always looking for a way to make people smile.

Other:

• If he likes you, he'll make you a 'special mud pie' (a mud pie sprinkled with hand picked flowers; the more flowers, the more he likes you)

• He's handsy, mostly because he's an affectionate boy but also due to the fact he has poor eye sight.

• While he's chubby right now he grows to look more like his father, even somewhat in the face department.

• Fortunately for everyone and the tom himself, he grows out of his habit to refuse any kind of footwear. Don't tease older Chester about his phase, though, because he will get embarrassed and he will look like he just ate a sour lemon.

Voice Claim: Greg from Over the Garden Wall

youtube

Cleaned up and with his eye color when he gains his melanin

Wonder who the dad is lmaoo

Lastly a size comparison (not sure if it's accurate tho lol)

#This took so long write down omg #I'm so not used to writing down my oc stuff lmaoo #if:devil's moon #fanart #art #lackadaisy #lackadaisy oc #lackadaisy fanart #artists on tumblr #digital art

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jackfrostsisterssisterinlaw · 11 months ago

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MHA random guys x Y/N

I am so sorry to the person who requested this over a year ago, I suddenly disappeared and forgot requests were a thing when I got back. This one’s a little rushed because I’m having exams these days but I’ve made you wait over a year so I had to get it done.

The random guys include Deku, Bakugou, Monoma, Shinso and Amajiki.

word count : 987

Warning : IF YOU SO MUCH AS LOOK AT AMAJIKI 🤬 I’ve got my eye on you.

as usual can’t take any credit for the pictures.

Deku

Let’s be honest you probably don’t deserve him. No matter how much you do for him he’s going to somehow be doing more for you. It’s not that he treats love as a competition, it’s just that it’s in his nature to put his two hundred percent to everything and that includes his relationship. And if he chose you as the one that’s really something. He loves just staring at you and absorbing every single detail. He notices the smallest change in your appearance and can always tell when you’re feeling down. He hates it when you don’t communicate and share your pain and eventually manages to get it out of you by playing the victim. Try to give back at least 50% of what he’s doing for you because that would be a normal person’s 100%. He’s very possessive although he doesn’t tell you directly. He’s going to be super grumpy if you hang out with other people more than you spend time with him. Also here’s a secret. He loves it when you ruffle his hair and give him forehead kisses so keep doing what you’re doing :)

Bakugou

I don’t know how you did it. HOW DO YOU PUT UP WITH THE GUY? He appreciates you for it more than you know. He knows about his anger issues and how his inconsistency can make him a difficult person to love, but when he saw you loving him unconditionally and always being there, he realized what a difference that made in his life. It hurts his pride to tell you his problems and he finds it far easier to just burn the furniture but he really tries. He hasn’t been burning much furniture lately right? He’s opening up to you more and more every day and wants to become the same cushion for you. He wants you to be able to trust him as much as he trusts you. If another person looks at you for a second too long or makes you laugh, he is going to be jealous as hell. Trust me the moment he drops you home after a date or is out of your sight, he is going to track them down and give them the scariest warning in their life. It’ll be so scary they’ll refuse to see anyone in a romantic way anymore incase there are more bastards like Bakugou. He loves it when you try to be rough with him and that one time you pinned him against the wall..yeah I think he wants you to do it again.

Monoma

If you’re with Monoma that speaks a lot about you too. Because from a surface level I don’t think anyone can stand Monoma. He looks like he’s arrogant and obnoxious and gloats thinking he’s above everyone. His slicked hair and the way he sneers like he knows he’s good looking. There’s a lot of things to dislike. But you chose to stay and dug deeper. You were able to see the insecurities he tries to mask with his persona and the internal bruises he covers beneath his tuxedo. He adores you for knowing him so well and relies on you a lot. It’s sometimes hard for him because he hates depending on someone but you always comfort him and tell him that you’ve found your calling. He kisses you then, multiple times all around your face finally ending at your lips. Verbal affirmations aren’t really his thing because somehow stuff he says still comes out as self absorbed and arrogant. But with you by his side he’s improving every day. He gets really irritated when people hang around you but he tries to convince himself that you’ll be loyal and he doesn’t have to worry. He’s not stupid he hears what everyone says about how you could do better. But you chose him in the end and that’s what’s important.

Shinso

You like the silent mysterious type don’t you? Absolutely nothing wrong with that because he is a total green flag. To be honest I don’t think he knows exactly how to be romantic and sometimes his gestures of love can be a little weird. Like sometimes when he sees you in a crowd even if you smile and wave he’s just gonna stand there looking at you with no expression. He forgets he has a mouth and eyes that can be used to express one’s emotions. He also has no understanding of social cues so please bear with him. Also I’m sorry that your pickup lines hit a blank wall. Except that one time you made a star-wars pickup line and said yoda only one for me. You fell even harder for him when you realized he was a geek too and he fell harder because he finally understood all the nonsense you were yapping about and meant them romantically. Bear with him, I know he sucks at showing it but he really likes you. Have you seen the way he grits his teeth and glares if someone so much as looks at you. You like him being possessive don’t you? He loves it when you have deep conversations with him and he’ll listen to you talking endlessly.

Amajiki

LOOK AT MY POOKIE MWAH

I’m sorry but Amajiki is mine. Go find your own cinnamon roll. I’m gate keeping all his character traits and love languages. I’ll just word drop so that you get jealous.

He’s super depressed and moody if I leave him and talk to someone else.

The moment he sees me in a crowded room, he walks up to me and attaches himself to me and eventually convinces me to leave so that we can hang out together.

He’s biggest fear is actually losing me, he doesn’t mean that as a joke.

He loves it when I cuddle him and tell him how much I love him.

Which I do on a regular basis so back off. :3

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giggly-squiggily · 5 months ago

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Fiesty (Blue Lock)

Heyo everyone! It's come to my attention that despite loving these boys very much, I have yet to write anything with Kunigami and Isagi. I am ashamed, and shall repent by bringing you this fic of the boys being dorks together :D I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13 @chibsstuff @imjusthere07 @riisada @ticklish-n-stuff @intheticklecloset (I know y'all aren't on my Taglist but like-blue lock! :D)

“Whoops, my bad!” Kunigami called out as his shirt flew, landing on Isagi’s face.

Normally Isagi would brush it off with a “It’s cool, man” or something to that nature, maybe even bring it back to the self-proclaimed hero.

Today though: today he was feeling a bit feisty. So much so he balled up Kunigami’s shirt and slugged it as hard as he could towards the back of his head.

The effect was anticlimactic. The shirt unfurled halfway there. What was supposed to be a satisfying whack turned into it haphazardly landing on Kunigami’s own face, briefly blinding him.

Silence. The two boys just kinda sat there as they let what just happened sink in. Slowly, Kunigami pulled it off, turning to look at Isagi with raised brows. The brunette stiffened- an apology on his lips.

Then that feistiness came back and he opted to square his shoulders, raising his chin with a mild glare. No words though- just a glare. The silence stretched.

“...Do you wanna fight?” Kunigami blinked- his tone lacking any anger despite the words. If anything, he sounded more amused. Isagi felt his temper flair some as he glared harder- hoping the shape of his mouth was a tight lipped frown and not a pout. “Is that what we’re doing right now?”

“Y-Yeah! We’re fighting!” Isagi finally spoke, puffing up. “Let’s go, you and me! Right here, right now!”

Kunigami stared at him, unreadable. Then he grinned, standing up and rolling out his arms. “Alright. A fight it is.”

Isagi pulled up further, readying himself. It was also at this moment he realized he had no idea how to fight. He had never been in one before- he’d only seen the kids at his school get into them, and even then he stayed out of it.

Kunigami closed the gap while he realized this, and after looking into the ginger’s eyes, he realized this wasn’t the kind of fight he expected at all.

“Wait- wait I take it back! I take it ba-ahhahaack!” Isagi went to run, but Kunigami had him by the collar, pulling him into his chest. Seconds later, fingers were flying up and down his sides, making him yelp and kick. “Kuhuhuuhuhunighahahahahahmi!”

“Come on, Isagi- you don’t run from a fight you initiated!” The older boy chided gently, pulling up an arm with one hand and pinching up his ribs with the other. “That makes you look weak! When you challenge someone to a fight, you have to be prepared to go all out!”

“Buhuhuhut I dohohohon’t wahhahahanahaha fiihihihght no mohohohore!” Isagi cried through his giggles, clawing at the hand stubbornly attached to his mid-set ribs. “Iihihihih’m ahahahhall abohohohout thahahaht phahahahahcefihihihist lihihihife nohohohw!”

“Pfft- yeah, says the guy who’s not afraid to get physical on the soccer field.” Kunigami laughed good naturedly, daring to drop a hand to Isagi’s lower ribs just to hear him scream. “Where’s all that edge? That fiest? That zest of life you had five minutes ago?”

“Whahahaht the hehehehehell ahahahre yhohohohou gohohohoing on abohohohout?” Isagi snorted through his laughter, legs growing weak with each squeeze to that terrible spot. He tried to rip himself away, but a quick tug and sweep left him flat on his ass, trapped within a leg grip as Kunigami dug into his belly. “AHehahahahahahah noohoohohoho!”

“Eh, a bunch of words I heard Gagamaru say when describing dumplings. I think their lyrics to a song? You know his odd taste in music.” The hero snickered as he dug both hands in, leaving no spot on Isagi’s belly untouched as the brunette writhed about. “Hey, you’re always humming those silly anime tunes of yours- why not sing me something? Anything! Then I’ll let you win this fight.”

“LIHIHIHKE HEHEHHELL! GEHAHHAHAHHA!” Isagi all but howled at the tickles, cheeks on fire and starting to hurt from how much he was smiling. “I CHAHAHAN’T SIIIHHING FOR SHIHIHIHIHIIHIHI-EHEHEHE!”

“Who can? Well- he can.” Kunigami hummed as he moved his hands to Isagi’s armpits, making him nearly croak from silent mirth. “Well, I guess I can count this squawking of yours as music. It’s a new version of screamo, yeah?” He finally let him be, pulling his hands back and gently patting Isagi between the shoulderblades as Isagi gasped for air. “There- still want to fight?”

“Gehahah…ahahah…yohoohu’re an ahahaass.” Isagi groaned, jerking with a giggle when Kunigami pinched his sides. “Yoohohu started it- the whole fight thing!”

“I did? Oh- wait, yeah I did.” Kunigami released him fully, pulling back as Isagi turned to face him. “Sorry- I didn’t know anyone else was in the room. I should be more mindful.”

“Pfft- it’s fine, really. I don’t know what got into me.” Isagi smiled, lightly kicking him in the shin. “I threw it back pretty hard, so I’m no better.”

“That was hard?” Kunigami asked- followed quickly with them saying in unison “That’s what she said”. Isagi cackled, delighted, and Kunigami wheezed. Laughing like children on the locker room floor, they carried on changing into sweats before making their way to the main room, still laughing.

“What’s got you so giggly?” Chigiri asked, unable to fight off a grin as Kunigami sat beside him. “Bit by the tickle bug or something?”

Isagi blushed a few feet away as Kunigami laughed more. Shaking his head, he turned to Bachira- finding the other curled up half asleep against both his and Isagi’s futons. “Scoot over some.”

“Cuddles if I do?” Bachira pouted up at him, sprawling out further. Isagi snorted, nodding as he gently moved him, fitting perfectly into Bachira’s arms.

“Always.”

Thanks for reading!

#blue lock #tickle #tickle fic #kunigami rensuke #isagi yoichi #bachisagi #kunigiri #it's brief but it's in there #fluff #tickle fights #I love them your honor

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years ago

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the fake date plot | part 1.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The James girlies have led me down a rabbit hole and some of the cutest stories are in the James tag. So before you read this, please read: If I Kiss You, I'm Sorry by @astonishment which is what inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: literally none that I can think of this is supposed to be just good fluffy fun

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N II: I literally use whatever gif comes up when I type in 'James Potter' but imagine your own fancasts and I might switch up every now and then

Series Masterlist

“Prongs, there’s some owl at the window,” Remus said as he exited the kitchen.

James lifted his head, trying not to disturb Peter who was using his chest as a headboard while he tried to solve the Rubik’s Cube Remus had bought him for his birthday. It was summer and naturally, as someone going into his last year of school when break ended, James threw a party at his house.

His parents were going to be on business trips most of the summer. The party was a major success. Only the marauders, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary were still there. They had all planned on staying, already having their trunks there. School was in two days.

James hopped up from where he was on the floor, cleaning the smudge of his glasses. “Oh, that must be Elton.”

“Elton?” Peter asked.

“Y/N’s bird. She really likes Elton John’s music. He’s some muggle singer. Moony knows, the Crocodile Rock dude.”

James left the rest of his friends in the living room to ask how he even knew you while he got your letter. He dug around the fridge to give Elton two blackberries as a thank you. James opened your letter in the kitchen before going back to his friends, in case your letter had confidential information in it.

He hid the smirk on his face behind the letter when he saw his friends’ expressions. They totally bought it and they would buy it even more when he saw you on the Hogwarts Express in two days. You and James came up with the best fake date plot known to man last school year:

It was the Yule Ball. Hogwarts kept the name even though you didn’t have Triwizard Tournaments every year. The students like that. It was always fun to go to a ball. It was also nerve wracking. Everyone was trying to get a date or they’d risk being talked about for a century. James was failing at asking Lily out and you were failing at avoiding a few boys that wanted to ask you out. None of them were the guy you wanted to ask you out.

Even when you got to the ball, boys were still trying to ask you to dance. You grabbed a cup of punch and excused yourself. You walked further away from the Great Hall and to a small corridor. A dark figure made you stop for a moment before continuing on your path. A sniffle made you stop completely.

“Are you okay?”

James jumped. Wiping at his eyes, he looked over at you. James stuttered through lies before giving up and turning the other way to lean his back against the windowsill. He took a sip of the drink he had in his hand and looked over at you.

“She can't even spare a dance with me. I thought everything was going well this year.”

You gave a dry laugh. “I totally know the feeling.”

James raised an eyebrow. He patted the space next to him and went to join him at the windowsill. The two of you clinked glasses and downed the rest of your drinks. James disappeared the cups.

“So which bloke did you want to dance with?”

“Oh, I don’t really think that’s important.”

“Nope, Y/N. It is totally important. I’ve poured my heart out to you, it’s just not right to be the only one.”

“Fine. Xenophilius… Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. Him? Really?”

“I know he’s snogged a lot of people but h—”

“Love, he’s shagged nearly all of Ravenclaw. The only long term relationship he’s ever been in was Pandora.”

“But they lasted all of fifth year plus the Ministry added eighth year so there’s still time to see him a lot.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me about eighth year.”

The Ministry was very concerned with the amount of Hogwarts graduates getting married and having children right after leaving school. Especially when a good chunk of them died either fighting for Voldemort or against Voldemort. Adding an extra school year was a way to try and quell that phenomenon. As someone so close to graduating, you hated it at first. It became only a minor annoyance when you realized the Ministry probably wouldn’t be changing their minds until Voldemort was defeated.

James shrugged his shoulders. “So what’s your plan exactly? Pine after Xeno all of next year and then when eighth year comes around hope he stops hooking up in Gryffindor locker rooms long enough to realize you’re perfect for him?”

“He hooks up in Gryffindor locker rooms?” you asked with slightly widened eyes.

“Unfortunately. Our rooms are closest to the pitch, easier to sneak in and out during games.”

“Do you really think I’m perfect for him?”

“Y/N,” James said with a roll of his eyes. “I haven’t sat next to you in Potions every class since first year to not know that if Xeno took just a week off from trying to fuck everything with a pulse he’d know you are one of the nicest and cutest girls he’s ever going to get. You’re wicked smart too which is up his alley… I still don’t understand how he still gets the grades he does.”

“Thanks, James. For what it’s worth, I think Lily is missing out on a very observant and handsome and sweet guy even if your pranks go a little too far sometimes.”

“Well, we only save those for people that like to pick on those smaller than them.”

“I know.”

“Do you feel like going back to the ball? Because I don’t.”

“Not really.”

James held out his arm. “Shall we make our way to Gryffindor, my lady.”

“We shall, good sir.”

You and James skipped through the halls until you made it back to Gryffindor tower. You ended up following him up to his dorm which you had never seen before. Despite being assigned class partners since you two were eleven, you weren’t exactly friends with James Potter. Just acquaintances was what you were.

The marauders’ dorm was nice. The first thing you noticed was the fact that they reconfigured their beds. Almost every bed was laying horizontal and flush against the wall, like a bed turned couch. And the wardrobes were also flush against the wall either at the head or foot of the beds, whichever allowed all the beds to see each other. You’d have to proposition your roommates about doing that. It made the space so much wider and seemed to give everyone a personal area.

James led you to his bed area with a blue rug in front of it. You took off your shoes and set them neatly next to his, noting how he was very organized about his shoes being lined up underneath the bed. James moved to the wardrobe at the foot of his bed. His hand dug through the shelves for his pajamas.

“Do you want something to change into?”

You took some of his clothes with a thanks and went into the bathroom to wash and get changed. You and James were going to open the firewhiskey in Sirius’ trunk and vent to each other while getting progressively drunker. James started to make himself a little cot on the floor while you took a shower. Something told him that you two would probably stay up late and potentially fall asleep. He already decided that you were getting the bed.

You laid down on the bed and ate some fizzing whizbees while waiting for James to finish showering. You shot up when James practically broke his own door. His hair was still wet and his clothes looked very disheveled on him.

“I have a plan so dumb it might work on luck alone,” he said as he shook your shoulders.

“I’m listening.”

“Go out with me.”

You laughed. “James, are you already drunk?”

“Just a bit tipsy. But listen to me. You want Xenophilius, I want Lily but neither of them seem to really notice us. So let’s make them notice.”

“You want to make them jealous?”

“Well, I don’t know if they’ll be jealous but I want to make them feel something. Don’t you think they would at least be curious about why we suddenly stopped pinning over them? They’d at least talk to us more, I just know it.”

“Okay, one problem. You scream through the corridors about how much you love Lily. I think only my friends know that I like him and one of those friends is Lily.”

“You two are friends?”

“Well, we’re roommates, one of the few Gryffindor dorms with five girls. I’m really just friends with Dorcas and Alice when she’s not holed up in Hufflepuff.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to do something embarrassing.”

And that was how you found yourself waiting outside Ravenclaw’s locker room before the big quidditch match on the last day of first semester. If anyone talks, it’s going to be quidditch players. They chuckled a bit while you waited for Xenophilius to come outside, some even going back in to tell him that you were there.

He finally left the dressing room after what seemed like forever and stood right in front of you. Reluctantly, you gave him a small gift and wished him luck before scurrying to find your roommates in the stands. You didn’t think it would take very long for the gossip to spread. What you didn’t expect was for you to get the label of a lovesick puppy. That was worse than what they called James. You told him such over winter break.

The two of you were at his house for the entirety of the break, teaching each other all about yourselves and finishing the plot. You two wouldn’t start fake-dating until the start of seventh year, on the Hogwarts Express to be exact… with James doing a big gesture that was entirely his idea. He was super invested in making it believable. If it wasn’t believable then there was no point.

James handed over your letter to Peter who was still next to him. “Y/N says hi and she’s sorry she couldn’t make it to the party.”

“Since when were you talking to our roommate?” Marlene asked.

“Since I’ve sat next to her everyday in Potions and Transfiguration since we were first years.”

“You’ve been assigned that long?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Minnie and Slughorn never switched us. I should probably write something back to her.”

The only thing in James’ letter was that he thinks the plan might work. Everyone perked up at the notion of you two being secret friends so maybe fake-dating would work after all. You threw the letter into your trunk and headed to Platform 9 and ¾. You went to find Alice who would hopefully be alone or with her other Hufflepuff friends.

That was what James wanted anyway. He came in about halfway through the train ride when you were in the middle of talking with your friends. James sheepishly held up a sweater and tapped on the window. Alice nodded for him to come in. The girl was shocked when he immediately turned to you.

“Bug?”

“Yes, Prongs?”

“Do you remember last year when you said you sew? Do you think you can mend this?”

“It’s not even autumn yet. Why do you need the jumper now?”

“I just thought I’d forget unless I said it right at this moment.”

You rolled your eyes but looked for a sewing kit in your trunk. Setting it on the bench, you grabbed the sweater and gently pushed him out of the room.

“Why am I friends with you?”

“Because you love me.”

“Goodbye, James Potter.”

“Bye, Bug. Thank you.”

You sat back down and dug through your sewing kit before muttering that you didn’t have navy blue thread and would try to find some. You had already known that you didn’t have the correct color thread. But a certain Ravenclaw probably did. Your hand shook a bit as you closed the door to your compartment:

“What are Xeno’s hobbies?” James asked when you two took a break to hang out at the pool in his backyard when you arrived early in the summer.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a load of bull. I know Lily’s favorite gemstone is carnelian because it matches her hair. So what’s one of the man's hobbies?”

“He likes to sew.”

“Oh this is brilliant.”

You knocked on the door of the train compartment that Xenophilius, his friends, and the new girl he was with for the start of school. He and his friends smiled at seeing you and let you in. You held up the sweater.

“Do any of you have navy blue thread? I’m trying to mend a jumper.”

Xeno summoned the spool of thread from out of his trunk. He held it up in his hand until you came in to receive it. His hold lingered on yours.

“You like to sew?”

You shrugged. “It’s more of a hobby. I’ve only ever done stuff for myself until now.”

“Is that for your mum? My first gift to someone else was for my parents.”

“No, James Potter. The idiot can’t mend a simple hole in a sweater. Thank you for the thread, I’ll return it before dinner.”

You smiled a little as you walked back to your compartment. Xenophilius’ smile had twitched a bit when you mentioned James’ name. Maybe his plan might work. Your friends had clearly been gossiping about you when you were gone. There was no doubt that the Ravenclaws were gossiping about you when you left. And because James insisted that you give him his sweater once everyone got into the Great Hall, you were sure other people were bound to gossip.

James ignored the other marauders when they got back to their dorms. He’d tell his friends the truth eventually but it was necessary they also believe the lie for at least a month or two. You and him were supposed to be close friends for the first month. If Lily or Xenophilius didn’t make a move from that alone then you would start fake-dating. It was a foolproof idea really.

(part 2)

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