#i think these are all the ones i picked up from mutuals at the time WHICH IS A LOT:

[grison-in-space]

Y'all if you really need this to be all queer all the time I can support that but it's not that fucking hard to do. Make em both bi or pan or nonbinary or any number of fun things. The notion of a romance founded in mutually seeking an abortion and the intimacy of sharing one's desires for the present and maybe the future against the backdrop of ensuring one another's freedom from parenthood (at least, right now) is too good a concept to let go.

Couple of Texan kids, say. I spent a long time there, it's a natural pick for me. They're in college and they go to one of those keggers the frats throw, meet at a wild party as college kids, maybe they're freshmen or sophomores. Call em Sam and Kris so I don't have to specify which character has which genitals.

Sam's a nervous anxious perfectionist with huge career plans and big dreams who has life planned out in exhaustive (and exhausting) detail, only even at this party because a friend insisted on a break between exam rounds. There's a lot of internal pressure built up that's going to explode the moment Sam relaxes. Kris is a little unformed, not sure what major to pick or what career to settle on, still trying to work out what kind of person might be good to grow into, good at surface connections but kind of lonely for something deeper. The frat parties are familiar and comfortable—Kris knows how they work and how they run, and if you're friendly and you smile at people and maybe hook up now and again you get to feel REALLY connected and useful, and that's a heady feeling. They meet at the party Sam's friend picked out and immediately feel the attraction and hook up while totally shit faced—huge aberration for Sam, maybe not so much for Kris. There's a condom, but it breaks. It doesn't seem like a big deal in the moment, but in the morning, that's another story.

Sam is panicked. A baby is going to derail all their careful plans and their self control, but you can't not step up to take care of a baby. Ohhhhhh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, what do we do? Kris is quiet as they consider the mess and the possibilities. Shit. Shit shit shit. They maybe exchange numbers and withdraw for a minute until someone's period is late. They might try to find plan B but neither of them is entirely sure where you buy that shit and it takes a few days to find out, by which point it's too late. And then the period fails to show up, and it fails to show up, and the pregnancy test reads positive, and they're running out of time...)

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

IF SAM HAS A DICK: they are a moral and ethical enough person that they do not consider abandoning Kris as an option if the pregnancy goes to term. They may propose marriage or coparenting as a potential option but they are clearly terrified by all possible options.

Kris is touched and kind of flattered. They're not sure whether they want kids or not, but now doesn't feel like a great time with everything so up in the air. Anyway, Sam is hot but used diapers and vomiting do not sound hot at ALL right now, and Kris's parents are kind of distant and definitely aren't going to be any kind of useful. They broach a preference for an abortion, Sam sags in shocked relief, and then starts talking about figuring out how to pay for it—not what Kris expected—and making plans to skip classes and talk to teachers to figure out the logistics. Oh, Kris thinks, feeling warm and fuzzy: Kris expected to be on their own to fix this, but Sam is acting like this is both their responsibility equally to resolve. They've never felt cared for like that. Oh...

IF KRIS HAS A DICK:

Sam is hyperventilating over the pregnancy test results and acting as if going to one party doomed them for all time, and Kris inexplicably kind of wants to hug them? Shit happens sometimes. They ask tentatively what Sam actually wants as Sam starts collapsing under the weight of the impending ruin of their life and how disappointed "everyone" will be and all the bad things that might happen, and Sam whips their head over and stares for a second in astonishment before saying, huntedly, "I want for none of this to be happening!"

"Oh, okay. Do you want an abortion?"

"I can't afford to on my own, I'm going to have to ask my parents for extra money and they are not going to be happy. Shit, shit, shit, I'm going to be paying for this until the end of time, I don't have time for this—" and Sam bursts into tears. Kris feels bad and, like, look. Kris likes to help people anyway, and it's not like this situation isn't equally Kris's own fault. So they offer to help Sam figure this out and pay for the whole thing—they've got a job at a bar that can cover it—and they help Sam calm down and explore some options so that together they can find a place to get an abortion. They offer to drive, too: that means they don't have to wait as long on a bus or something but Sam can study from the passenger seat. It's not like any of Kris' classes require a lot of effort; psychology is good for that much. Let's make a day trip out of it.

Sam, who is used to having to do everything on their own, is feeling really cared about and seen right now. And, well, Kris is really hot...

There you go. It's a fucking romance. Deal with it.

there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[crescenthistory]

hello there,

i’ve been a follower & a big admirer of your work for quite some time now — so i thought, perhaps i could leave a suggestion down here for when (if) you have the time and inspiration ?

here is what i had in mind,

female reader who is a freshly transferred student at hogwarts, and someone who happened to become very close to regulus. close enough for their mutual attraction to be clear and their relationship labeled as somewhat of a talking stage.

which is why it’s only natural when slytherin skittles, as regulus’ best mates, feel it is their mission to make sure reader is a decent person and someone who would not leave his heart broken. after all, it’s not an interrogation if they ‘just so happened to stumble over her in the common room’ while regulus is away. or maybe it is. still, they are looking out for him.

anyways, feel free to shape the scenario however you see fit or not write it all if it’s not what you’d be interested in. i hope your day is going great and i’m sending you all the love and hugs ! xoxo

hi there darling, thank you so much for your kind words and request<33 i went with the skittles hounding regulus prior to meeting up with reader, hope that's alright with you, mwah

Words: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin skittles focus, banter, barty and dorcas bully regulus a little, you're not an active part in this but are talked about, regulus is in love and embarrassed over his friends, reader's background prior to hogwarts is not addressed, seer!pandora

"Is it truly so hard to believe that someone other than you lot would dare be friends with me?"

The dorm erupted in various statements of "yeah, pretty much", "duh" and even Evan's "if what you have with her is a friendship, then I don't think we're friends, Reg."

Even on his worst days, Regulus was beyond grateful for the ragtag found family he had been swept into during his time in Slytherin. Barty who essentially picked him up one day and claimed him as his own, Evan with whom he found solace in the quiet, Dorcas who became the best verbal sparring partner he could ask for and Pandora who understood him better than he had ever thought possible – these were his people through and through.

Unfortunately, his people were kind of arseholes.

"It's taken us years to crack through your," – Barty, from where he was perched across Evan's lap, waved in Regulus' general direction with disdain – "stoicism, and you tell me this bird has you asking her out within a month? We have to believe that shit is some twisted dark magic."

"You would know all about twisted dark magic, wouldn't you, B?" Dorcas volleyed through a laugh, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at him.

"Fuck off, Dorc, I thought you were with me on this!"

Evan playfully napped at Barty's ear when his passionate outburst turned its heat from Regulus to Dorcas.

“I can play for two teams." Dorcas seemed offended at Barty’s assumption of her loyalty, while Pandora sat beside her with an impervious smile, unaffected by the back and forth. “And don’t fucking call me that, Crouch.” 

Evan had to catch Barty’s foot by the ankle when he tried to launch it towards Dorcas in retaliation.

Regulus dropped his head into his hands with a groan. With Barty and Evan lounging on Barty's bed and Dorcas and Pandora on the floor in between, Regulus was left on the edge of his own bed, feeling awfully sorry for himself for having caring – if meddling – friends.

"Can you guys please be normal tonight?" he asked into his hands. Without looking up, he held a finger into the air to quell the argument about to fall off of Barty's tongue. "Don't. By normal I mean don't scare her off. Don't go asking weird or inappropriate or threatening questions, okay?"

"I simply cannot promise that." Both Dorcas and Evan gave Barty a wack to the leg and arm for his comment.

“I resent Barty at the moment, but yeah no, that’s going to be a tough ask, Reggie,” Dorcas amended.

Regulus eventually lifted his head to stare in near-defeat at his friends. "Listen. I... I like her, okay? Like proper, more than I thought I could. I want her to keep feeling comfortable around me, this is all still very... new to her."

He didn’t have to say that this was new to him, too. 

Pandora shifted in that way that alerted everyone to the fact she was about to speak – only when she spoke did Barty ever actually shut up. She smiled softly. "You're in love." She stated it plainly, a fact.

Regulus felt as if he had been punched in the gut by her assertion. "I– What?" he stumbled, gaze flashing quickly to spot the mirth and mischief on all of his friends' faces. With a steadying breath, he pressed his lips together and his palms to his knees. "That is way too soon to say, Dora. But I'd like to think I might eventually be. If you lot don't fuck it up for me." That last sentence was directed towards the bed opposite his with a light glare.

Barty threw his head back with a gleeful, almost screeching laughter and fully ignoring most of what Regulus had said. "This is going to be so fun!"

"We're not going to fuck it up," Dorcas translated Barty's sentence, with the dignity to wear a somewhat rueful smile. "Though, I will say, if she cannot handle these dynamics of ours, I question how she will be able to sustain a relationship with you."

That exact fear had been brewing in Regulus' stomach all day, ever since you agreed this morning to join him with his friends to Hogsmeade tonight after spending almost every day together in the library for the past month. Being with you was the highlight of his days, a quiet sort of ease settled into his bones, and he ached to extend it past dinnertime. What you had was special to him, something he feared to lose, though he did not dare voice it. He had no idea how to answer Dorcas' musings, but thankfully he didn't have to.

"Oh, she will," Pandora assured, breezily, as if this was a cosmic law.

"You’s seen her?" Evan questioned, looking at his sister with a gaze only she could decipher. She made a so-and-so head movement, which seemed to be a perfectly understandable answer to Evan.

Regulus supposed it was to him, too.

"Really, Reg, we're not going to scare her off or traumatise her or whatever else you're accusing us of here," Barty grumbled, as if relenting. He crawled out of Evan's lap to come hustle Regulus out of his perfectly comfortable seated position, slapping the sides of his arms when he stood. "We might interrogate her a little bit – but, hey, that's just to know that she deserves our little prince! And we'll be totally nice and polite or whatever."

"Reassuring, Barty." Regulus gave him an unimpressed glare, but the corners of his lips tugged at his best friend's familiar tactics.

"Great, 'cause that's not my strong suit you know!" Barty called out as he whipped around, grabbing his coat and bag in a flurry. “Pulling out the big guns just for you, Reggie.”

"Never thought I'd hear him admit that," Dorcas mumbled to herself, drawing a giggle from Pandora.

The rest of the group seemed to get the signal that it was about time to move outside, having been chattering away for the past half an hour after Regulus insisted on them getting ready early, lest they be late. "Finally heading out?" Evan questioned gleefully, not one to want to wait for long.

"Yeah. Just, again, please. Be cool." Regulus stressed it one final time, regarding them all sternly.

Barty gasped. "He said please!"

"Then we simply have to," Dorcas agreed.

With a roaring laughter, they opened the door and filtered out as if they were one large entity. Regulus supposed in some ways they were, which made him feel terribly sorry for you and what he was about to put you through.

And he knew he was a selfish man when he thought it next, but his blood warmed nonetheless as he hoped you liked him just as much as he did you – which would mean enough to withstand his friends' undoubtedly incoming interrogation.

Lucky for him, by the entrance of the Great Hall, where you had agreed to meet, you were standing in your favourite outfit and wringing your hands, eager to not just withstand but dance in that very storm.

[icyg4l]

Who Wants to Kiss You Under the Mistletoe? ❄️🎄

Hello beautiful people! It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered together. But I am back and better, coming to you all with a collab with the beautiful @icanseethefuture333! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful and safe holiday season. Without further ado, please select the Destiny’s Child/Beyoncé Christmas photo that resonates with you to find out who wants to kiss you under the mistletoe :)

Pile One: You have someone from the past missing you, Pile One. I get this energy of a regretful lover who wishes to start over with you. They regret not paying as much attention to you as they should have when they were in your life. They would like to make it right. Someone here is a nursing student or could be working as a medical assistant. This plays a part into why things did not work out; busy schedules can lead to resentment down the line. I heard “you got it all wrong, dear” as I was channeling messages. It feels like you could have misconstrued this person’s intentions as childish when they weren’t. You’re tired of the games, but there weren’t any played to begin with. They just couldn’t multitask and decided to let you go. Practice patience, kindness and compassion with your next lover. They will need it. But just for future reference, keep your love connections light and upbeat. It will save your heart from serious damage.

Tarot Cards Used: The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune, Princess of Wands, 2 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Express Your Love - Go ahead and make the romantic gesture.

Flirt - Extend your lighthearted energy to others.

Stay Optimistic About Your Love Life - Positive thinking and faith will bring you romance.

extras: baked bread. finished clinicals. America. Philippines. feeling drained. Looking for partnership.

Bonus Songs: Hold Tight by Justin Bieber. Let it Go by Elsa. Pick up the phone by travis scott, young thug and migos.

Pile Two: You know exactly who this person is! You and this person have similar music tastes, probably are both into niche artists or deep cuts of popular artists. This person likes to send you cute subliminals on social media, such as posting a song dedicated to you using the note feature on Instagram. This person is very aggressive in their approach. You keep resisting this connection, but you shouldn’t! Is this person not your type? Are you scared because they have children? Are you an ashamed single parent? Are you a bored college student that needs excitement in your life? Well, just know that this is your person, and you can ask for all the signs in the world but this will end up being your lover. It is possible that you two could be in a long distance situation, however, this is not stopping your person from showing up as their best selves. If given the chance to kiss them under the mistletoe, just do it! What the hell? What could go wrong?

Tarot Cards Used: Queen of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, King of Cups.

Oracle Cards Used:

Keep an Open Mind - Your soul mate may differ from your usual type and expectations.

Children - Your love life is being affected by children.

This Could Be the One: You’ve already met the romantic partner you seek.

extras: joy. georgia. SJW. emeli sande. letting it unfold. global peace prize. traumatic past.

Bonus Songs: My Love by Justin Timberlake. Feeling Myself by Beyonce. Let Me Love You by Mario.

Pile Three: Pile Three, your person hasn’t been shy about their advances at all. This is someone who finds themself to be incredibly attractive. They could be big on partying. They’re kind of intimidating (to you). But there’s no need to be scared, love. Get out of your head and get in the field. You are not out of this person’s league. You’re simply a human being with feelings that need to be expressed. Trust, the feeling is mutual. When this eventually happens, you two could be planning on watching a movie and there will be tension between the two of you. It’s also possible that this kiss could happen in front of other people. I saw a bowl of popcorn in my third eye. This could lead to other acts, if you catch my drift. You’re a hard worker, but you deserve to experience love. There is nothing wrong with taking a break and just allowing yourself to bask in the presence of someone who makes you feel free! This person does not care about your baggage, they only care about spending time with you. So go with the flow, you control freak!

Tarot Cards Used: Strength, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands, 4 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Finances and Career - Financial issues are a factor in your love life right now.

Very Soon - Clearly decide what you want so that it comes to you now!

You Deserve Love - You are lovable!

extras: sunburnt. 11th house placements. drinking. raybans. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”

Bonus Songs: Out of My League by Fitz and the Tantrums. First Position by Kehlani.

Pile Four: As I was shuffling, I heard the word, “observant”. This person could be watching you from a distance. There is a strong connection to the Atlanta area here. You or this person could be from there. You could be visiting and vice versa. There is something about this person that brings out the girly teengirl in you, lol. This person makes you feel really giggly. This person has beautiful eyes that captivate you. They have a detached, suave demeanor to them. It seems as though they’re not real. They seem to have a level of stability in your life that you do not have, and this draws you to them. They seem to be the “perfect package” for you. As for whether or not you should kiss them, you should wait. There should be some type of buildup between the two of you. There will be some type of waiting period, of which you will endure. There could be some type of interruption (maybe a couple honestly), but the kiss will be worth it.

Tarot Cards Used: 9 of Discs. King of Cups. 8 of Cups. The Hierophant.

Oracle Cards Used:

Playfulness - To recapture romance, allow your inner youthful spirit of fun to shine!

Healing Family Issues - Your love life benefits as you forgive your parents.

Attraction - You attract romantic love by enjoying this moment fully.

extras: traveling to/from atlanta. it’s the journey. children of the corn (1984). the perfect holiday (2007). jayson tatum.

Bonus Songs: Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah. Haters by OMG Girlz. Crush by Mulatto. Check it Out by william. Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Goosebumps by Travis Scott.

[sundropflowerr]

You, Me, and Our Tree | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, post s4 where there’s a happy ending, fluff, sweet domestic vibes, established relationship, holiday cheer, cozy moments, cute banter and playful teasing (especially about christmas trees), soft kisses, mutual affection, gentle kisses, light humor, with a dash of sarcasm, comforting moments, deep connection, and a touch of nostalgia, lots of christmas decorating chaos and mismatched ornaments, cuddling, the warmth of being in love, snowstorm, cozy apartment setting.

★ Summary: On a snowy December day, you and Steve curl up together to decorate a lopsided tree, laughter filling the air as you argue over the perfect placement for each ornament. It’s warm, it’s simple, and it feels like everything you wanted. 1.7k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x gn!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Frank Sinatra

★ Dividers: thank you to @strangergraphics for the adorable divider, it’s greatly appreciated!

★ Author’s Note: i love christmas and i love steve so two and two together brought this love child. though short, i had a blast writing this. i need to set up a christmas tree with steve asap.

The first snowstorm of the season had rolled in sometime during the early hours of the morning, soft and steady, a blanket of white slowly swallowing Hawkins.

You hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until a snowplow rattled by just before dawn, shaking the windows and dragging you out of sleep. By the time you got up for coffee, the street outside had disappeared beneath a foot of snow, the world outside pale and silent.

It was the kind of day you’d both hoped for—one where you could stay home, tangled in blankets, too lazy to do anything but exist together. Steve, being Steve, had insisted you stay inside, warm and cozy, while he braved the cold to get a Christmas tree for the two of you. He didn’t want you dealing with the snow or the chill, though you argued you’d be fine. But Steve was relentless, refusing to let you leave the comfort of your apartment.

That’s how you ended up here, curled up on the couch, waiting for him to return with the tree.

“Don’t slip and break your neck,” you’d said, still half-asleep, as Steve grabbed his coat that morning.

He turned to you, his usual overconfident grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be fine. It’s just snow. You think it’s gonna stop me?”

You weren’t sure whether to roll your eyes or smile. Three years together and you still couldn’t decide if Steve was brave or just plain stubborn.

Probably both.

When the buzzer crackled through the quiet of your apartment, you weren’t at all surprised—it was exactly what you’d been waiting for.

“Can you let me in? I’m freezing out here.”

Steve’s voice cut through the receiver, muffled and shivering, and you buzzed him in without a word. By the time you opened the door, he was halfway up the stairs, carrying a thin, lopsided Christmas tree under one arm like it weighed nothing at all.

“Ta-da,” he said, breathless and grinning, as he kicked the door shut behind him. Snowflakes dotted his hair and shoulders, melting into tiny drops. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, a scarf you knitted two years ago wound haphazardly around his neck. “Look at this beauty.”

“That’s what you call a beauty?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you stepped aside to let him in.

Steve shot you a look as he leaned the tree against the wall, shaking snow out of his hair with one hand. “Don’t start. This guy’s perfect.”

“It’s leaning.”

“It’s got character,” he argued, already shedding his wet coat and boots by the door. His socks were damp, his jeans dusted with snow, and he looked entirely too proud of himself.

“Three years of this and you still pick the saddest-looking tree every time,” you teased, crossing your arms as he toed off his boots.

“Consistency’s important,” he said, straightening up and flashing you that grin that made your heart flip like it was ‘85 all over again. The grin you first fell for when you were both crammed into those stupid Scoops Ahoy uniforms, trading banter and ice cream scoops while monsters lurked under Hawkins.

Steve looked at the tree again, hands on his hips like a dad surveying a new lawn. “It’ll look better once we decorate it. Trust me.”

“Your track record isn’t great, Harrington.”

He ignored you, instead stepping closer, brushing his cold hands against your arms with a soft, teasing smile. “Missed me?”

“You’re freezing,” you muttered, but you didn’t step away. You never did. His hands were cold, his hair was wet, and he still managed to feel like home.

Before you could say anything else, Steve leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours, a sweet, familiar kiss that felt like everything. His cold lips melted against yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you—no snowstorm, no responsibilities, just him and you, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

The tree didn’t take long to set up—mostly because Steve insisted on doing all the heavy lifting while you watched with an amused smile. By the time it was finally in the stand and mostly upright, he was on the floor, legs sprawled out, glaring up at the crooked branches like they’d personally wronged him.

“You think it leans more to the left or the right?” he asked.

“It’s pretty balanced,” you lied, trying to bite back a laugh.

Steve turned to you, his expression dry. “You’re lying. I can tell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, sinking onto the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. “It’s perfect. Really.”

He squinted at you for another second before shaking his head with a chuckle. “Unbelievable.” But he stood anyway, brushing snow-dampened palms against his jeans as he moved toward you. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you, y’know.”

“You tell me that like it’s news,” you teased, and Steve dropped onto the couch beside you, letting out an exaggerated groan as he stretched his legs.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, mugs warm in your hands, the soft hum of the radiator filling the quiet. Outside, snow continued to fall, casting a pale glow through the window that made the room feel softer somehow, almost golden.

It was strange, you thought, how this had become your normal—Steve Harrington, tangled up on your couch, feet brushing yours under a blanket that barely covered the both of you. You remembered when all of this was still new: the way he’d knocked on your door that first Christmas after Starcourt, holding a scrappy little tree he’d picked out himself because, in his words, “Someone’s gotta keep the tradition going.”

That was three years ago. Back when you’d both been bruised, uncertain, and still trying to find something steady after everything you’d been through.

But now, as Steve leaned closer, stealing your blanket and grinning when you protested, you realized how far you’d come. How easy it was to love him after all these years.

“You know,” Steve murmured, his voice quieter now, “I think this might be the best tree yet.”

You tilted your head to look at him. “You say that every year.”

“Yeah, but I mean it this time.” He was still looking at the tree, his expression softer now, like he wasn’t really talking about the tree at all. “Just feels… right, y’know?”

You did know.

Decorating the tree turned into a whole production. Steve pulled the box of ornaments out of the hall closet, insisting on playing Christmas music from the cassette player on the bookshelf—old, crackly tunes that filled the apartment with warmth.

You handed him the lights first, watching as he tried (and failed) to untangle the string from the knot he’d stuffed it into last year.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” you asked, biting back a laugh as he scowled at the mess of wires.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Steve replied, deadpan.

“You said it, not me.”

Eventually, you took pity on him and helped untangle the mess. The two of you strung the lights together, Steve holding the tree steady while you wrapped the glowing strand around its crooked branches. By the time you plugged them in, the entire room felt warmer, the golden light spilling across the walls.

Steve grinned, hands on his hips as he admired your work. “Not bad.”

“You mean my work,” you corrected, bumping his shoulder as you reached for the ornaments.

The box was full of mismatched decorations you’d collected over the last few years: a little snowman you’d found at the flea market, a glittery star that Steve insisted on buying last year, even a couple of hand-painted ones from Dustin and Max. You handed them to Steve one at a time, watching as he placed them carefully on the branches, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” you said, smirking.

“I’m a professional,” he replied without missing a beat.

You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten until you turned to hand him the last ornament, and he was already looking at you, that soft, lopsided smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, heart skipping.

“Nothing.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “Just happy.”

You paused, fingers brushing his as you handed him the ornament—an old glass bauble you’d found at Scoops one summer, forgotten in a box in the stockroom. You’d kept it ever since.

“Me too,” you said quietly.

Steve turned to hang the ornament, his movements gentle, almost reverent. When he stepped back, the tree glowed softly in the corner of the room, its crooked branches dripping with lights and mismatched baubles.

It was far from perfect, but it was yours.

Later, after dinner, the two of you ended up back on the couch, wrapped up in the same too-small blanket, watching the tree flicker in the dark. The apartment smelled like pine and leftover takeout, the kind of cozy warmth that made your eyelids heavy.

Steve’s arm was around you, his thumb tracing slow circles against your shoulder. You could feel him breathing, slow and steady, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“You know what I was thinking?” he murmured after a while.

“Hm?”

“We should get a bigger place next year. Like, with a fireplace or something. I feel like we need one of those.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “For what? Stockings?”

“And hot chocolate,” Steve replied, smirking. “And to impress everyone when they come over.”

“You mean the kids.”

“Yeah. And Robin.”

You laughed softly, curling closer into his side. “We’ll think about it.”

Steve hummed, his hand still moving gently against your arm. “Good. ‘Cause I was already looking at—”

“Steve.”

“Right, right.” He grinned, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “We’ll think about it.”

Outside, snow tapped faintly against the windows, the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor. And as you sat there, wrapped up in Steve and the quiet of your shared apartment, you realized there was nothing else you needed.

The tree might be crooked, the lights uneven, but everything about this felt perfect.

It always did, with him.

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

[ghostlycod]

thinking about ghost or price (but especially ghost) with plus-size!reader is so 🤤

MDNI ; NSFW

cw: use of the word “fat” (I refuse to view it as a bad word and so does ghost), mentions of being bullied and mentions of mothers being judgmental (weren’t all of our first bullies our own mothers?), piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl, folks. I mean I don’t but I have a breeding kink and don��t mind getting knocked up, so), mutual orgasm, dirty talk, use of the phrase “good girl,” creampie

————————————————————————-

fat

he knows how much you hate that word. it’s the word that’s been thrown at you all your life. playground bullies, ex-boyfriends, hell even your own mother would berate you with it. and you tried your best to tough it out, you know? to not let things get to you, to keep your head high and stay confident. but it’s chipped away at you, he can see it. the way you try to hide yourself, make yourself smaller, thinking if you just don’t talk too loud or don’t move around too much it will make it so you take up less space. clothes that hide the delicious curves he’s been thinking about everyday since he met you.

and that fat is all of what he loves. sliding his length in and out of you slow but hard, watching as the shockwaves of his blunt force ripple across your thick thighs as he sinks home. he’s so greedy with his gaze, drinking in every inch of your perfectly plump body.

“been keeping this from me? trying to hide?” he groans from deep in his chest as he bottoms out inside you, sliding home with a loud, wet squelch from your pussy, making you bite down on your bottom lip and keen.

“askin’ me to turn the lights off.” he huffs a laugh as his hips pick up the pace and you feel him right there, with the perfect tempo and pressure. “nah, nah, nah. you’re gonna let me see ev’ry part of ya, lovey.”

and every part is exactly what he gets. he flips you into every position you never thought anyone would ever take you in. with your legs spread lewdly over his shoulders, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your hips, then ghosting their way over your soft stomach to grip at your jiggling thighs, pussy taking a pounding that can only leave you making those little ah ah ah sounds, squeezing his cock involuntarily because you’re—

“close. soooo close” you moan, trying to bury your face into the blankets bunched up around your head.

“I know, I know,” he coos. takes one hand off your thighs that he’s been holding steady and cups your cheek with it, turning you to face him. “cum for me.” it’s not a request. you hitch your breath, fighting the pleasure for reasons you can’t explain.

“cum for me, lovey” he says again, softer this time, as he stares deeply into your eyes.

and the look in his eyes is undeniable. you do exactly as your told, pleasure surmounting to the most intense peak of your life as it tumbles through your body like an avalanche, stealing your breath and burying your cries beneath the weight of its pleasure.

“that’s it. thas it. thassit.” his words slur together as he loses himself in you. “such a good girl. hmnph,” he cuts himself off with a groan, hips slamming into your gushing pussy wildly. “good girl. squeezingmesogoodgirl.”

he grips you by the hips and clutches you to him as he buries his cock inside of you with one final push, trembling as he folds over you, and you feel the sudden gush as his spend shoots into your cervix. he holds your bodies together like that, not a single inch leaving you as he slowly rocks your two bodies together while his cock pumps his spend inside of you until he’s empty.

you’re both breathless and shaking in the bed, bodies bound together. he focuses his eyes on your face at last, brushing the hair from your face with a surprising tenderness for someone with such rough hands.

“y’alrigh’?” he asks.

you can only nod your head vigorously, making him chuckle. he kisses your temple.

“good. good girl,” he mumbles into your hair, giving your thick thighs a little jiggle with his hand. you almost shy away from him, but one glimpse at his face tells you not to run away. this is exactly what he’s here for, exactly what he likes. and he’ll be damned if you hide from him any longer. so, you don’t. you settle into his hold politely, pressing your body deeper into his, and you don’t shrink away as his hands start to roam your flesh, massaging your fat just as he likes.

“that’s my girl,” he practically purrs at you.

————————————————————————-

[peydawgz]

So ummm....may i request a Hazard x Reader, and reader helps with fine tuning and maintenance on Haz's arm and legs and other cyborg bits (cybits? idk his none fleshy parts). It's soooo qjhfjsiajnsbjiaodhshaksk

[your works are *chefs kiss* and honestly, i shall binge on the feast]

Bruh I done spent a whole day writing this,, all for you my spicy little sun rays,, feast upon THIS!!!!

Hazard found himself flying through the battlefield, hydraulically jumping over enemies to capture his target. He used his large gun arm as a blunt object to bludgeon with, multiple dents as heads continuously crashed against it. The lasers he shot at them were off centered and wild, but he tried to play it off. He was primal, scratching and biting when his gun arm inevitably fell off. He could only shield his team with his vanadium spikes near the end of the battle. He was left more vulnerable than ever, but at least they won, right? The parts are replaceable after all.

The truth is, Fin was struggling out there. His heart couldn’t handle the amount of adrenaline he needed to keep on pushing. The same old parts just weren’t working, leading him to be uncomfortable with his body even more. His teammates help pick up his bits, and settled him into the van. He was trying to be still, but the waves of stress kept coming over him. With his one arm, his hand bloody and shaking he reaches into his leather coat pocket and pulls out a smoke. He rolls down the window,,, just staring on and trying to think.

He noticed that they weren’t driving back to the lair, giving him more anxiety. “Aye, where ya takin us?” He asked. “Look. You need some relaxation, big guy. You keep doing this to yourself, you need to chill. You literally fought your own ass off today, what’s up with that?” Susie makes him shut down a little, like he hasn’t even thought of the fact, but he does chuckle a little. They were all visibly worried about him.

“Alright, ah’ll try. ’m sorry for scarin’ ya.” He admits. When the van pulls up, one runs inside. He doesn’t even know where he is, it looks like they’re in someone’s garage. When they come back, there you are with big work goggles on. He’s enamored by you, the way you smile when you greet him. He didn’t even hear anything you were really saying, it was like his eyes were fixated on you and there was beautiful music in his ears. Suddenly your arms are around him and he’s floating in a dream, giggling to himself.

In reality, you’re just settling him into a wheelchair. “Findlay?” He hears you call his name, looking up. “You alright? You don’t have any brain damage or anything, do you?” You try to shine a light in his eyes, and he sort of snaps out his lovesickness. “Oh, na brain damage. Juist heartache.” He says with a pretty grin.

Your mutual friends are giggling amongst each other, and they’re already betting on the outcome of this interaction. You were just a helpful mechanic, and had a few of your own body mods as well. You’d helped a couple of their team with their tech before, but you were unfamiliar with the big guy other than hearing about him. Hazard is very flirtatious, and although tempting you’ve gotta focus. You bid the other Phreaks goodbye and help Fin into your home/workshop. You have all of his parts laid out on a table already, mangled and twisted as hell.

Your hands were all over him, checking measurements for new parts and fitting different equipment onto his body. “So… what’s yer name?” He asked, and you responded, “Y/N.”

“Oh ye, A've heard yer name around afore. Ye mist be good at yer job!” He says, watching you. That tension from before was lifted away by your angelic fingertips. There was a comfort that you brought to the room. Your place was very cool as well, he’d never seen such an extensive arrangement of tools before.

He chatted with you as you worked on his gear, telling you lots of funny stories and making you laugh. It seemed like his life was full of adventure, he had so much to say about his time in training camps and stories about his friends. When he asked, you told him the story of how you earned your robotic limb. You’d done something courageous to make an effort to save someone else instead of yourself in an accident. He could relate to your pain, and reminded you that the Phreaks would always have a place for you.

“Ye'r fàilte tae hang around mah lot. In fact, ye'r an honorary member already wi' ye helping us out all th' time.” He means well, and you appreciate the offer. “I spent a lot of work to fix up this place to how it is now, I’m not ready to walk away from it. You’re always welcome back here too!” You smile at him. You’re a great listener considering his big mouth. You get his sense of humor, and you don’t have to ask him to repeat himself too much.

You took a little lunch break together, and offered him some of your snacks. You showed him your living area, and he met your animal companion. He has his own dog shared between him and his mates. He is polite and thanks you for the meal, and you reply that it’s no trouble.

Two more hours of work passed by very quickly with more chatting, that slowly twisted into flirting. You stood beside him in his seated position, piecing him back together. His large frame was bent to your every will, telling him to move this way and that. He was like a puppy, following your every command in hope of a treat.

You knelt down, your hand holding his nubby leg and attaching new parts on. You looked over his tattoos and asked about them, interested in their meanings. You showed him so much care throughout the whole process, he was lucky to have you. He was put back together properly, and you helped him up out of the chair to stand on his own two feet again. His hands lingered in yours for a bit longer than intended, and he was towering above you, looking into your eyes with a happy expression.

When you moved back, he expressed his great condition by flexing for you and doing some moves, which you enjoyed. He was very ripped, nearly busting out of the leather jacket he wore. “This is th' best a've felt in ages!” He exclaimed as he explored his new limits. Your additions added a much needed comfort to his parts, and perhaps now he wouldn’t get so beat up now that he had something to appreciate.

He couldn’t help himself but give you a big ol hug, you were surrounded in his hefty arms as he picked you up in the process. You were just happy to help him, and wanted to see him at his best again. He was powerful like this now, and he had a new confidence to bring home with him. He stuck around a little while longer to express his gratitude, and he told you he’d be back again soon.

You missed him a little once he was gone,, a lot of people acted too punk to talk to you, or rude so they could show off to your friends. He was one of a kind, truly on your side. Maybe it was a mirage and he was showing you his nice side, like so many others have manipulated you. You were worried when you should have been happy at the gift he left on your doorstep- a potted plant along with some treats for your animal, and a little handwritten note. You missed him when he came knocking on your door-but he’ll come back to see what you think.

It lingered on your mind, as you watered the plant and found a spot for it, what his true intentions were. You’d find out, soon enough.

It was late at night, and you were drifting asleep when suddenly an alarm was triggered. You looked up at the clock, confused at first before you realize it’s a burglar, a crash coming from within the house. You shoot out of bed, grabbing something to defend yourself with and head out. For a second, in your sleepy state you thought it would be Hazard.

“Haz?” You called out, turning a light on one after one. Your animal was hissing/growling at the closed door to the garage. You moved it behind you,listening to the crashing around and the alarm screaming, before opening the door. At the same time, Hazard had made his way through the front door appearing at the same moment you locked eyes with the robber.

Your weapon pointed at them, and they dropped theirs along with everything they intended to steal. They looked terrified of you, but when you looked behind you Hazard was there. His metal gun pointed right between their eyes.

He defends you and your sanctuary, protecting what is rightfully yours and sending this scumbag a painful message. The robber got thrown out to deal with the authorities, and you were left shaken up, trying to laugh it off with Hazard at your side.

“Thanks for helping me deal with that,, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You take him into a hug, grateful to have him.

“Aye, yer welcome. Am glad I checked on ya. Wha’ you think o my gift?” He leans into your welcoming touch. The way you were so soft, treating him the same was melting his heart. You’re feeling the same energy- he is not as scary as he presents himself, and you feel a new warmth that once was not there.

“The plant is very pretty, it’s up in my window. My pet also really liked the snacks. I love it,,, I don’t get gifts very often.”

He pats your head in a loving manner, and helps you clean up the mess. You see now, these actions are his way of showing you he means no harm. He’s honestly trying to to show his gratitude for all you’ve done. After it’s all cleaned up, it’s just you and him in the dimly lit space.

You try to reassure him you’ll be okay, but he seems worried about your well-being after the stunt with the burglar. You eventually ask if he wants to stay the night, and he accepts. You were joking at first, but he actually said yes.

So you lay on the couch with him at your side, watching a movie as you share a snack. You end up falling asleep against him and he doesn’t want to move an inch in fear of making you uncomfortable. You’re as cute as a kitten, your body in a circle shape snuggled against his side. His arm rests on your back, and he leans his head back, falling asleep shortly in time.

You wake up cuddled up like Hazard’s teddy bear. The fluffy blanket covers you both and your animal is sound asleep under your legs. Fin is awake with his eyes closed, enjoying this nice soft moment he didn’t think he’d get to have. His gun arm is unattached and laying on the floor. He feels your fingers caress over his shape, running over his hard muscles and shoulders before resting on his cheek. His eyes open and you look at each other, sharing the moment of waking up together. You smile, and you both begin to laugh before he moves in to steal a kiss.

You’re startled, even though you saw this coming, you embraced it anyways. Your heart was racing just from the little peck, it felt so good to be loved. You smooch him back, in a swift motion before you climb over him and off the couch. Loving him just came naturally to you, you hoped this was a sign things were meant to be.

“A’ll take ya to get breakfast, love. Maybe we could have a lil’ date?” He pulls you back into his chest for another cuddle. He’ll treat you good until he runs out of everything, you mean a lot to him.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Spice & Secrets

Pairing: Constantine Corrino x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn Romance, Betrayal of Duty vs. Love, Angst, Yearning, Power Dynamics, Politics, reader is a bene gesserit, forst time,

This chapter takes place roughly throughout the first episode.

Prologue

You knew each other as children growing up in House Corrino. Back then, conversations of the Butlerian Jihad and the spice trade passed through your ears without a second thought. The three of you were playmates: Constantine, the emperor’s bastard son, his younger sister Ynez, the princess and heir to the throne, and you, the daughter of the household's headservants.

You and Constantine always sought each other. Your parents were well-respected by the Corrinos and established themeselves as head servants of the great House, allowing you to accompany the royal children in their studies.

Each time you heard a funny joke in school, you'd glance at him, eager to see his knowing smirk. Every time the two of you were caught being noisy, his golden eyes would find yours, laughing at your shared trouble.

In your younger years, you loved picking flowers for your mother, always dragging Constantine along to the gardens with you. It’s how you earned the nickname "Flower" from him.

In a way, he had always been your defender. One of the noble boys in the court, a brute named Colin would always victimize you. Whenever the kids played, you'd always say something strange and be the first to get picked on.

One day, Constantine had overheard one such jab coming from Colin and his friends. He stood in front of you, shielding you from them and staring them down, he said. "Leave her alone."

Collin was taken aback, forcing a laugh to make it look like all good fun. Since that day, the teases relented.

Your future seemed secure, bound to the service of House Corrino.

Until one day, an elderly Bene Gesserit named Ella recognized a curiosity in you. A skill that could be honed, refined, and weaponized.

One afternoon, while you were playing in the gardens, your mother pulled you aside. She spoke calmly, telling you not to be afraid. You followed her quietly as she led you through the palace halls. The next thing you knew, you found yourself alone in a dark room, staring at a woman whose face was hidden by robes. Confused, you turned, seeking your mother-

"Face me."

The command rang out through you, and without thinking, you obeyed, turning to face the old woman. Your heart raced in your chest.

"Kneel."

A cold command that your body obeyed without hesitation. Kneeling, you stared at the woman, fear coiling in your stomach.

With the calm tone of authority, she spoke. "Put your hand in the box."

She revealed a small, dark box, and as the room seemed to shrink around you, your mind screamed to pull away, but your body remained frozen.

An hour of excruciating pain later, you were escorted out, trembling. You’d survived the Gom Jabbar trial, but the experience had changed you, though you couldn’t understand how. The pain had been unbearable, but you’d managed to endure by thinking differently. It felt… strangely empowering.

That evening, Constantine noticed you seemed different.

"Where were you?" he asked, sitting across from you at the supper table.

You hesitated before telling him about the ordeal.

He looked horrified by thr time you finished your story. "Did you tell your mother she hurt you?"

"I think she knows," you replied, giving him a look that looked unsure.

"We should tell Father." His eyes flared with concern, his voice tightening.

You bit your lip, trying to calm the anxiety that was growing inside you.

“That woman hurt you!” His words were filled with disgust.

"I think she meant well," you said softly, but doubt twisted. "I don't know why, but I think it happened for a reason."

That night, after dinner, your mother pulled you aside once more. The Bene Gesserit had already made their decision, and you were sent away to the school on Wallach IX, tearing you from House Corrino and from Constantine.

Constantine was heartbroken. For an entire month, he kept asking about you.

"Wallach IX is in a nearby galaxy," he cried, clutching a map. "We can go rescue her!"

"She does not need rescuing," his mother, Francesca, soothed, brushing his hair gently. "She's studying to become a great woman. Who will protect herself. And you."

"But that woman hurt her!" He yelled at Francesca, his young eyes filled with hatred for the unknown woman who had taken you away.

"She’ll be fine," Francesca said calmly. "Trust me."

Despite her reassurances, Constantine couldn’t forget. Every day without you felt unbearable. His heart ached, and his mind raced with thoughts of you. He wished he wasn't a bastard.

He wished he were in line for the throne. Then, he would never let his loved ones be taken away from him. Then, he would be in control.

Meanwhile, you rebelled against your training. You refused to listen, deliberately failing your lessons, hoping they would send you back.

"You need to learn these things, child," mother Tula Harkonnen said after you cursed her out for commanding you to practice a basic mental defense tactic. "To protect yourself."

"I don’t want to protect myself." You crossed your arms stubbornly, refusing to meet her eyes.

Valya, the mother superior, watched you closely. Her gaze pierced you, reading every subtle movement.

"And what of protecting those you love?" she asked, voice steady. "What about him?"

The words hit you like a bolt.

"Young Constantine," Valya continued, her eyes never leaving yours. "The Emperor’s first born. The one you can’t stop thinking about. Dreaming about. The reason you want to return so badly. Do you care for his safety?"

The mention of his name made you worry. You could only blink. "Don’t touch him." You said steadily.

Valya and her sisters engaged a meaningful look before turning back to you.

"Then you must learn." Valya's voice softened, but her command remained clear. "Learn to protect him."

Years had passed, and you excelled at your studies. By the age of fifteen, you had become one of the best in your class. Your motivation stemmed from that day when Valya advised you to protect the ones you loved. To protect Constantine.

One morning, as you sat at the library with your sisters, an imperial delegation passed through the halls. You recognized the House Corrino sigil on the gards uniform immediately.

All motion slowed around you as the delegation walked by. You craned your neck to see behind the guards, trying to make out who was visiting.

You were met with the sight of a young man in imperial royal uniform, his curly brown hair falling over tanned skin. Familiar golden eyes flicked playfully toward the other girls in the room, who flushed and turned away.

Beside him stood a pale, thin girl, her brown hair mirroring his.

Your heart skipped. You didn’t even think before the words slipped from your lips. "Oh God. Princess. Your Highness!"

The delegation halted. The girl, Ynez, turned toward you, her eyes wide with recognition.

"God," She hurried forward, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

Before you could say anything, Valya’s sharp voice cut through the air. "After me, Princess."

Ynez pulled away, clearly annoyed. "This is my childhood playmate! I haven’t seen her in years-"

"We must make haste." Valya’s tone was imperious.

Ynez shot you one last glance before reluctantly following the mother superior.

"Flower," a familiar voice called softly from behind you.

Your heart raced as you turned.

"Constantine," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

He stood there, taller, sharper, his boyish charm now replaced with the beginnings of a handsome young man. But his golden eyes still carried the same pain.

"You look... changed." His eyes roamed over you in wonder. "Can we go somewhere private?" he asked, his eyes sweeping the room, offering a smile to the girls surrounding you.

Outwardly, you projected a demure smile, but inwardly, your pulse quickened. Your skin itched with the urge to touch him, to hold him close in a hug that could convey all the apologies and confessions you’d carried with you over the years.

"Yes, please come with me." You stood from the lunch table and led him away, hearing murmurs and whispers rise behind you as you walked.

Down an empty hall, you reached for his hand instinctively. His fingers interlaced with yours, and the contact sent a jolt of warmth through you, like sparks of electricity. You couldn’t help but squeeze his hand, a small giggle bubbling up inside you, threatening to escape.

Once in an empty classroom, Constantine told his guards to stay outside, then turned to face you. Before you could react, he pulled you into his arms. You hesitated only for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. He towered over you, and you fit perfectly beneath him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

"I missed you," he whispered, his breath uneven, the words tumbling out in a soft, desperate rhythm. "I missed you, I missed you."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pulling away just enough to look at him. His golden eyes were full of intensity, affection pouring from them as he gazed down at you, still holding you close.

Your hand lifted, brushing gently against his cheek, your fingers tracing his face. "You grew your teeth back," you said softly, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you remembered his funny smile when he was still losing his baby teeth.

A playful glint sparked in his eyes as his brow quirked. "You learned to clean up your boogers," he teased.

A laugh bubbled out of you, and your body shook against his chest. "I missed you, Costa."

He pulled back just enough to look at you more seriously, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress, as if looking for the aftermath of the pain he knew you'd endured. "How have they been treating you?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

"I'm alright," you reassured him, your voice steady. It was true enough. The training had been difficult at times, but now you were learning to control your emotions and nerves, just as all Bene Gesserit were trained to do. "Really, I'm doing very well."

His hand cupped your wrist, pulling your fingers back to his face, and he leaned into your touch. "I want you back home," he murmured, his voice soft yet heavy with something more. Something desperate, you could feel it in the way his breath hitched, how his grip on you tightened. The happiness in his voice mirrored your own. You wanted to go home too, more than anything.

Your chest tightened, a hollow ache in your stomach. You wanted to ask him everything. To tell him all the things you hadn’t shared in years. "I graduate in a couple of years," you said, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. "Then I’ll be assigned to a great house as a truthsayer."

"Can you choose where?" His voice was laced with hope, but also something darker. Possessive, perhaps.

No. You couldn’t choose. But they would assign you based on what they thought you were best suited for. The Mother Superior would decide.

You shook your head. "The Reverend Mother chooses for us."

Constantine’s jaw tightened, his frustration flickering. "I want you home," he repeated, this time with more force. The command in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "By my side."

You felt the weight of his words press against you, pulling at your chest. "What happened, Costa?" you asked softly, trying to make sense of the change in him, hoping his response would give you some clarity.

He sighed deeply, and you could hear the weariness in the sound. "It's nothing," he said quickly, but there was an edge to his words. "Just... watching the world move on around me as I do all the work while my little sister is raised to inherit the throne."

Ah. His vulnerability stemmed from his illegitimacy. The realization came quickly, but before you could give it more thought, you caught yourself. You were thinking like a Bene Gesserit again, analyzing him clinically. You pushed the thought aside.

"Perhaps you should look at it differently," you suggested gently, meeting his gaze. "Enjoy the freedom that comes with your birthright."

He blinked, his golden eyes considering your words in silence. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, but you didn’t yet know the weight those thoughts would carry, how much they would shape his path in the years to come.

"But for now," you added with a smile, "someone needs to look out for your sister."

That seemed to break through his thoughts. Constantine smirked, that familiar, easygoing smile returning. "Just promise me one thing," he said, his voice light but serious.

You nodded, waiting for him to speak.

"Don’t value the Sisterhood above all else."

You froze. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. It was a request you weren’t sure you could fulfill. A promise you didn’t know if you could keep.

But you didn’t answer right away. You only gazed up at him, the weight of his words pressing against the boundaries of your heart.

You blinked at him.You could feel his presence in a way that was deeper than before, his warmth radiating into your chest. Your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his face as if memorizing the feel of him.

You caught the crease of his forehead - worry lines.

Then youd picked up a hunch to his shoukders - a courtecy of spending lots of time writing, or reading, or strategizing.

There was a slight bulk to him and caluses on his palms - he's intensified his combat training.

"When did you become such a grown up?" You asked.

He broke into a chuckle. "I’ve missed that sharp wit most of all," he murmured, his voice breaking the silence.

A soft laugh escaped your lips. "I’ve missed you too, Costa. More than you know."

The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Constantine stepped back, his hands reluctantly leaving your body. You couldn’t help the pang of disappointment in the absence of his touch.

"I should go," he said, his voice losing a bit of the warmth it had held just moments before. "They’ll be expecting me."

Chapter 1

Years had passed again. Your duties as a Bene Gesserit trainee had been demanding, but you fulfilled them with perfection.

At twenty-one, you were now a full-fledged Bene Gesserit sister.

Your transformation was striking. The soft, girlish features of your youth had been replaced with sharp, elegant lines. Hollowed cheeks and a refined jaw gave your face a mature look. Your movements were careful and deliberate. Each step, each turn of your head, is calculated to command attention. The art of cosmetics and aesthetic was second nature now, and your training in the weirding way had honed your body into a lithe, disciplined instrument.

You accompanied a delegation of Spacing Guild representatives to Seleusa Secundus. The great houses gathered hosted by House Corrino to celebrate the princesses' betrothal. The celebrations of the first night were in full swing.

The occasion called for blending in, and your attire reflected it. You wore a sleeveless black gown with a structured corset of shimmering silk, its golden threads weaving spice-inspired patterns down the bodice before cascading into skirts that swirled around your feet. A high slit revealed glimpses of toned legs as you walked. Your hair was braided and pinned like a halo, with loose tendrils framing your face. Gold-dusted shadows and dark liner enhanced the sharpness of your eyes, and your lips glistened with a subtle, golden sheen. Long gloves stretched past your elbows, completing the picture of poised sophistication.

Playing your role, you walked through the grand halls with hands folded and chin high, a display of both power and vulnerability, a subtle invitation to admire the curve of your neck and the gleam of your collarbones. Your half-lidded gaze swept the crowd, offering brief flickers of attention that hinted at intrigue.

The palace was just as you remembered—its Greek-inspired architecture and opulent displays of fountains, tapestries, and priceless artifacts all a testament to House Corrino's wealth and pride. You scanned the crowd, your eyes catching a glimpse of your mother speaking to a servant. A pang of familiarity struck, but you couldn’t approach her now. You had a mission to complete.

At your sister Lila's subtle hand gesture, you slipped away from the delegation, descending into the palace's lower levels. This was where secrets were whispered, and it was your job to listen.

The revelry below was a world apart from the formal elegance above. Young royals and aristocrats surrounded themselves with exotic animals, dancers, and indulgent laughter. Music filled the air, its rhythm almost intoxicating.

You spotted Princess Ynez first, entwined with a man whose face you didn’t recognize, one thing you knew for certain was that he was not her betrothed. The softness of her gaze and the closeness of their bodies spoke volumes. Your curiosity piqued, and you strained to catch fragments of their whispered exchange.

But then you heard a laugh familiar and full of mischief. Your sister Hera.

You turned, ready to ask what's so important that she left her post when your gaze followed hers.

Your composure slipped.

Constantine Corrino lounged on a golden bench, radiating effortlessly. He was surrounded by young nobles, some familiar and others new. Among them, Colin, his old training partner who had once tormented you, laughed loudly, a drink in hand.

Constantine commanded your attention. He had grown into a man who seemed sculpted by the gods themselves. His open shirt revealed a broad, muscled chest, and his powerful legs were clad in tailored trousers that accentuated his athletic frame. Gold adorned his hands and neck, catching the firelight and making him appear otherworldly.

He leaned back, his golden eyes fluttering closed as his head tipped against a pillow, his fingers randomly strumming the strings of a balliset. The sight of his tongue darting out to taste the lips of the girl on his lap sent a strange warmth through you. Her lack of wardrobe made her job obvious, but it was the slow, deliberate kiss they shared that held your gaze.

You pressed your thighs together, your breathing shallow. His hand moved to her waist, his fingers gripping her with an intimacy that made your cheeks burn.

Then you saw it.

A small pill balanced on her tongue as it dipped into his mouth.

Your eyes widened, and before you could think better of it, you stepped toward him.

"Your Highness!" Your voice cut through the revelry, louder than intended.

The couple broke apart, both sets of eyes turning to you. The surrounding nobles followed suit, their gazes heavy with expectation.

Recognition dawned in Constantine’s eyes, followed by a flicker of surprise and something deeper as his gaze roamed your figure.

You forced yourself to focus. "Your Highness, that woman wants to drug you. She's hiding a pill in her mouth."

The courtesan laughed. Then Constantine joined her, his voice deep and mocking.

"This would be the fourth time tonight," he drawled, his smile a sharp blade.

"You knew," you whispered, the realization hitting you like a blow.

"Of course." He smirked, leaning back lazily. I’m not as defenseless as you think."

He turned to Colin. "Do you remember little Y/N?"

Colin’s drunken grin widened as he took you in. "Holy shit, flower? Where have they been hiding you?"

You ignored him, offering a respectful bow to the emperor's bastard. "Forgive my interruption."

You turned to leave, but Constantine’s voice halted you.

"You’re not dismissed." His tone was sharp, commanding. You paused, turning back slowly to meet his gaze. The playful air around him had shifted into something heavier, darker.

The courtesan curled herself around him, trailing her lips along his neck as he stared you down.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, is there something you require of me?" Your voice was sweet, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.

Constantine pushed the woman off his lap and rose, his height forcing you to tilt your chin to meet his eyes. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

"Walk with me."

You swallowed hard. "As you wish."

You followed Constantine down the hall, your ears straining to catch snippets of conversation from the crowd you’d left behind. Each whisper and muttered word held the potential for valuable intel, and though you knew rumors would spread about this moment, you also knew Constantine’s reputation would absorb most of the shock. His scandals were too numerous to surprise anyone anymore.

A subtle hand gesture behind your back signaled to your sister, who was stationed across the room, that she shouldn’t follow. Whatever this was, you’d handle it alone.

The hall narrowed, the opulent sounds of revelry fading into muffled echoes. You’d barely taken a step into the darkened space when his hand circled your waist, pulling you abruptly against the cool stone wall. The unexpected movement forced a gasp from your lips.

Before you could react, his mouth was on yours.

The kiss was a confession—desperate, hungry, and unrelenting. His hands framed your face, his body pressing into yours as though he could anchor himself in your presence. Your training told you to push him away, but your heart betrayed you, your fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck.

For a moment, you let yourself burn in his fire.

But it couldn’t last.

"Constantine," you breathed, pulling back just enough to break the kiss. Your face ws flushed, and your thoughts were in disarray. "I’m working."

"I don’t care." he said, his voice thick with intoxication. His golden eyes searched yours, raw and unguarded. "You stopped writing to me. Why?"

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. How could you explain? How could you even begin? You thought of the courtesan on his lap mere moments ago, her hands all over him, and jealousy flared hot in your chest. But before you could reply, his lips found yours again, more insistent this time.

"Who taught you how to kiss?" he murmured against your mouth, the question both curious and accusatory.

You hesitated, your silence more telling than any answer could be.

His voice darkened. "Was it one of your sisters?"

You didn’t respond, but the truth hung heavily between you. Bene Gesserit taught everything. How to seduce, to manipulate, to control. And intimacy was no exception.

His eyes narrowed, his gaze searching. "Are you a virgin?"

A shy shake of your head was your only answer.

His shoulders dropped, his breath hitching. "Your first time was supposed to be with me." The admission was low and hoarse, as though dragged from the depths of him by whatever drug coursed through his veins. His lips brushed your neck, and his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. His body was a furnace, his heat searing through the fabric of your gown.

"I was supposed to show you pleasure," he whispered, his words half promise, half regret.

A soft moan escaped your lips despite yourself. "If… if you were, you’d be the first," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He froze, his gaze snapping to yours. "You mean… you’ve never?" His voice was filled with both disbelief and something far darker.

You shook your head again, a blush creeping up your neck.

The look in his eyes turned molten, a hunger you’d never seen before consuming his features. It made you shiver.

Slowly, he lowered his lips to your neck, kissing your throat. The sensation both tickeling and deliciously sensitive. His lips painted your neck with kisses. Instead of hunching lower to reach your collarbones, he picked you up, holding you above himself against the wall the two of you fitting like a puzzle. Your fingers curled around his locks as you whispered. "Dont leave marks."

He snorted. "There are women who'd consider it a privelige to have my 'marks' on them."

"You didnt offer me privilege." You whispered, as your hands glided over the ridges of his muscular back. "You offered me pleasure."

He snorted at that. "Oh its like that." Before his free hand lowered to the slit in your skirt, cupping your sex, and applying preassure on your clit. Your breath hitched and you grounded your hips against him. He obliged you with more pleasant strokes before releasing you back to stand on your feet. Before you could ask why, he kneeled in front of you, wasting no time and setting aside your skirt and tasting you. His tongue played a game. Circling your clit in slow moves before eagerly licking it woth more pressure. He did this again and again, occasionally dipping into your opening. You held your moans, suppressing them to a volume only the two of you could hear. "Costa, please-"

He moaned against you. The vibration sent a delicious shudder throughout your body. You felt the start of a warmth in the pit of your lower belly. Never recalling such a feeling before, you enjoyed the new sensation. "Costa... I... I feel -"

He silemced you without saying a word. His finger sliding into your core, brushing your nerves inside as his tongue continued its assault. You shook with the overwhelming sensation you'd read about so many times. Many emotions stormed within you. Disbelief, extasy, guilt.

That's when your vision went red. Burning. All you could feel was burning. A suffocating pain all over your skin. And a pair of blue eyes staring at you as you died.

"Y/n... Y/n!" A voice urgedn, anchoring you back to reality.

You blinked, you vision showing you a worried Constantine watching you. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searched yours, widened with worry.

"Flower, what's wrong? What just happened to you?" He asked, and for a moment, you saw the boy you once knew. Filled with honesty and love.

"It isn't safe here." You breathed, coming down from your vision. "Where are you guards, you must go to your room."

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me? What just happened to you? Was it one of those weird bene gesserit mind tricks?"

"I can't explain right now." You shook your head, running your hands over your dress, smoothing it. And cleaning up your hair. "I have to go."

"What? Back to your disgusting sisters? The one drugging you and fucking up your mind?"

"Constantine-" You began, urging him to see the seriousness of the situation.

"No, go on." He waved you off, already walking out into the party. "You're going to do it anyway."

[hinamie]

playing around w slightly different hair renders

[feketeribizli]

grasping at straws right now

[orcelito]

I'm at the painful "confession" scene during the kage summit arc. It really is so emotional, but also... hm.

When I was younger, like 13 or so, I was a big Sakura and Naruto shipper. They were the first pairing I read fanfic for even. And in a way, I do still enjoy the two of them together... but it's moments like these that really drive home the fact that it Doesn't really work in canon. Not the way that it's set up.

As Sakura puts it, "Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke! That's all you think about!"

She's told that Naruto has feelings for her and decides to use it to convince him to stop going after Sasuke. She does love him, but not in the way she's trying to confess. The love they share is one of comradery, not necessarily romantic. The love of two people who have gone through such pain together, and who have leaned on each other throughout it all. And the fact that she's turning around and saying she loves him "simply like everyone else", now... it's trivializing. And the fact that she's trying to convince him of this, the fact that she thinks she Can convince him of this, is pretty hurtful. They've come a long way from when they were kids, Naruto the goofball vying for her attention while she yelled at him for being stupid. Sakura respects Naruto so much more than before, and Naruto respects her too. So the fact that she's still doing this... She's desperate, really. She thinks the promise he made to her to bring Sasuke home is what's driving him to let himself be hurt over and over and over again in the pursuit and protection of Sasuke.

But she's wrong.

That may be part of it, but it's only part. Naruto wants Sasuke back for himself, too. He let himself be beat up to avoid selling him out. He chases after him with single minded determination. Sasuke is his entire drive to get stronger, to catch up, to bring him home. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke indeed.

As it is, Naruto knows she's lying to herself. And no matter what she says, he will keep going after Sasuke. Because that's just the person that Naruto is.

[vacantgodling]

not to be weird and sappy on main, but frfr i'm so glad i have found a community of people who think my work is good

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[mariatesstruther]

just a heads up mutuals i have the vid and it is knocking my immunocompromised ass out. wont be as active these couple of days, but pls feel free to tag me in stuff u want me to see and respond to when i am! 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[polarfarina]

I guess I'm just confused that fans of watcher are willing to pay sometimes $100 or more in ticket prices to see the live shows with Shane and Ryan but then $6 is really offensive and a betrayal of an ask... like one mystery files hoodie costs more than a year of their (currently announced price of the) site subscription. Don't get me wrong because I do NOT think the paywall was the right decision or announced the right way, I don't think it's going to work. But. I have seen and heard several people say they buy tickets and merch, why can't that be enough? $6 is too expensive! But I'm sitting here confused because. The tickets and merch are way more than six dollars..???? I'm really really confused about that point. It's not that I don't understand that $6 can be unaffordable, it's just... so many people say they can't spend $6 while in the same breath have been boasting about how so far they've been able to spend money on concerts and patreon and buying shirts and blind boxes and the premium YouTube subscription because creators get a bigger chunk of the money that way (watcher should be GLAD they supported them btw!); but SIX DOLLARS? They can't pay that! It's odd. Is all I'm saying.

On the flip side, I saw people saying that because they live outside of the us they would get charged a double tax that they couldn't afford due to having to transfer money overseas; I feel like that's a really good point. Once this goes behind a paywall, international audiences will have a much harder time accessing content moving forward, if they can at all (not every country plays nice with PayPal). Even if they can afford the $6, there will be a heap of fees on top of it - or there won't even be a way to get the money to the service in the first place.

Absolutely the fact that Watchers' content is suddenly becoming paywalled seemingly immediately moving forward with little warning is a big shock and at first when watching the video, I didn't think they were serious. Having witnessed a successful launch of a YouTube channel into a paid subscription site with the exact price that watcher is asking for... they are not doing it right. Not for their audience. But people are so so focused on how expensive six dollars is and not on the other implications of this decision, which just... am I in the wrong here?? There's a bigger conversation i feel could be had but everyone is really really focusing on the BETRAYAL of six dollars... and I feel like I'm going crazy because that wasn't even in my first handful of thoughts about why this was a bad idea

[risaparadise]

I found out about this show the old fashioned way (a mutual obsessed over it for a month and I absorbed it by osmosis)