#maybe a fat frog to go with it

[rammingthestein]

iirc the dublin date is like a day before richard's birthday right? now manifesting they get shitfaced in temple bar then go to the nearest chinese takeaway to get like a spice bag or something (idk i don't eat them lol) for richard's special day 🥹

i'm manifesting they get a spice bag/box (the ones with chicken balls obvs) and some garlic cheese chips as well as some ridiculous pint that costs €11. (then i'm manifesting that till falls in love with me when he sees me in the crowd but whatever ✨️)

[ellecdc]

✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter. 

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter. 

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes. 

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something.  “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly. 

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered. 

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault. 

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.” 

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively. 

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed. 

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?” 

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head. 

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother. 

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat. 

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward. 

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table. 

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.” 

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you. 

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors. 

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door. 

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively. 

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.” 

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly. 

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!” 

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest. 

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book. 

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!” 

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed. 

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.” 

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief. 

。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste. 

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him. 

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you. 

“That way, quickly.” 

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap. 

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door. 

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to. 

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow. 

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently. 

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape. 

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.” 

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?” 

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him. 

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche” 

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling. 

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t. 

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much. 

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly. 

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.” 

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you. 

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling. 

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.” 

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?” 

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.” 

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

[skullvgirl]

— 1:26 PM { r.itoshi }

rin made a mistake.

he knows he did.

it's exactly why at 1:26 PM he comes walking into the ice cream shop you're working at, arms laced with sone random girl he pretty much paid to date him, hoping you'd look at him and think maybe it was a mistake too let him go.

to let him run away from you. just like he runs away from everything else.

you're no where to be found.

in fact, almost you're entire shift goes by without your presence he missed can so much as grace the air, but then he sees it.

your (h/c) locs bouncing away in out of the store with only your bag in hand, not looking back for even a second, as if..you were avoiding something.

you knew he was here he realized

he chases after you.

" YN come back, YN wait, please!" but you don't respond. You don't even turn around untill he forcibly grabs your wrist from behind and pulls you so you're finally, finally looking at him.

it's not the expression he was hoping for.

"what the fuck do you want itoshi." you spat bitterly unhooking your wrist feom his grasp. he stared taking in your words.

itoshi? it felt strange hearing the words come out of your mouth, as far as he could remember you only ever treated him with love and respect. things he took for granted when the two of you were together. moreover it was weird hearing anything but 'rin' 'rinne' and even 'rinnie bear' when you talked to him. You'd always insisted on giving him a pet name to address him and now that you weren't...

It hurt.

Badly.

"well are you just gonna stare, cause if so Im leaving." you began to turn around again taking in a deep breath so you wouldn't cry in front of him.

you needed too look strong.

you needed him to see everything was fine, ans you were doing better without him.

you needed him to see that you never needed him. because clearly he never needed you.

"I'm sorry." you stopped in your tracks, but you did that turn around.

"YN, im so so so fucking sorry I-" he began, attempting to wrap his arms around your shoulder but you quickly push him off

"don't fucking touch me, in fact don't ever touch me again, what you did to me rin. I'll—" you're eyes began to water, and you cursed yourself for even being here right now.

"Ill never forgive you." You tried to hold it in, but the frog begining to form in your throat was only getting bigger. the more you looked at him, the more you wished you'd never met him.

"YN, i'm—I miss you. I miss you more than words can imagine,—"

"Miss me?" you scoffed, it was almost funny. "Didnt miss me much when you spent weeks and months away from me no contact. Didnt miss me much when you were gone for 7 months and when you finally came home you didn't even look at me when you came through the fucking door. Didn't miss me much when—"

"I know! I'm sorry, I wasn't–YN I dont know how to comunicate my words properly, I'm just so fucking useless at times and, and I was scared." he was crying now but so where you. fat sobbing tears ran down your face and jt made you appreciative of the fact you parked far out in the parking lot.

"scared of what? me? yourself? all the love a girl could ever give you in the world?"

"no of course not, it's just my brother he–"

"oh so now this is about your brother huh? stop making excuses, I don't want to fucking hear them."

and you turned around again, this time however instead of yanking you back like rin wanted to he said something yo'd never heard him utter before.

"there not excuses damnit YN, I love you."

you turned around but didn't say anything, letting him stumble towards you and shuffling with something in his pocket.

It was a crumpled sheet of paper that looked too have some sort of writing on it. "Dear YN. You are the love of my life, I'd never thought of a better person to meet and im so glad that person was you. I know this may come as a surprise but you're the only person in my entire life that i've ever loved in this sort of way and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you on your behalf. I was a horrible boyfriend and a horrible friend. I'm not expecting you to forgive me, but I wanted to let you know that I'm here, if you're willing, Im here."

He placed the paper back in his pockets waiting for a response. His heart was going 100 miles an hour and his hands were shaking like he had parkinsons disease but he wouldn't run away, not this time.

a part of your heart felt softened, his face was red and a but swollen now and you could tell he was genuine, at least this time around. but another part was still hurt, another part wanted him to be just as hurt as you were all thoes years.

"which Ai program wrote that for you Rin." you spat and his eyes fell from the hopeful glimmer they had before.

"my therapist, she's, been helping me." that surprised you, and you wasn't sure if it was your own emotions or if it was his, but you felt a calling in you. like something was right.

"give me that." rin pulled out the paper and you snatched it from his grasp, scribbling something on the bottom. "thats my new number, i need to process things right now. ill call you when im ready. "

rin couldn't believe it, you were actually giving him a chance? you might actually let him back into your life?

he'd just have to wait and see.

[brittle-doughie]

I got an idea based on this song https://youtu.be/vjBFftpQxxM?si=UVR7kg-LV8dVgiKf (If the link doesn't work, the song name is "BUTCHER VANITY" by Vane).

Y/n who's secretly a cannibal becomes curious and interested on how other living beings other than cookies taste like, they then kill and eat one of every sugary animals (Gummy snakes, gummy frogs, ect.)

After Y/n ate one of every living thing that was sentient sweet food they found another living animal, it looked similar yet different from the sugary foxes they ate before. They would then kill and eat the fox, the taste of meat was new and refreshing, and they would crave for more. This would then lead to Y/n to have a bigger appetite, a crave for meat, slowly become a crazy biologist and become an engineer that's able to make very advanced technology.

This would go on until Y/n gained interest in the witches. They wanted to know how they work and what they taste like. They may die, but it would be worth it.

So they not only survived the encouter with the witch, killed the witch with no magic and with just simple contraptions and do it sucessfully on the first try, Y/n did this TWICE. The first one had her skin, fats, muscles, bones, and organs displayed, preserved and is kept in working condition by Y/n's technology to prevent them from rotting away; the second one was killed off for the sake of eating. It's at this point Y/n's hunger has become apparent and obvious to their fellow cookies, cookies who try to follow Y/n to where they eat are then reported missing. Any cookie who's invited to dinner by Y/n will see the sides of the walls have preserved body parts of animals just like the witch; they are forced fed meat then are killed to be eaten by Y/n. Did I forget to mention that the parts of the witch are behind Y/n's seat on the surgery dinner table?

If it's alright with you could we get reactions and a small scenario for each reaction that explains how they found out what Y/n's been doing behind their backs? Especially certain groups (cookies of darkness ect.) and the more powerful cookies(legendaries, dragons, ancients, and the beasts).

Brittle I HEAVILY apologize for how long this is, big ideas like this are hard for me to keep simple and short.

The grounded cookie based groups of the Ancients, CoD, and Legendaries would be horrified at the prospect. How something as simple as consuming a gummy snake would lead to something as large scale and dangerous as hunting actual witches. Dark Enchantress might take some solace that her revenge against the witches have taken some form, but the methods being very grim.

The Beasts could see and understand the darkness and evil that could come from such an act and likely show little sympathy since the witches showed them little care, Shadow Milk particularly might applaud you for your work, though Burning Spice might be stern with you for making unnecessary messes with your kills.

The Dragons probably would show the least amount of care towards the situation, as long as you weren’t after dragons at least. Ananas might be a little cagey if you ever came towards his island where their cookies resided. Maybe Pitaya or Longan could see some respect in your brutality, but Lotus finds it too hard to look at.

[sleepyangelkami]

You having a secret crush on ellie and you keep it to yourself but she finds your diary one day and she can't help herself so she reads it when you go to the bathroom

DEAR DIARY e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you and ellie have been best friends for as long as you can both remember. she was the artist, you were the writer. you both respected one anothers hidden sketchbook and diary. until one day you're taking much too long in the shower and it's just... sitting there! ellie can't help herself and she finds out a little secret.

 ☆ WARNINGS - snooping? tinsey bit of angst if you can even call it that, touch starved reader, sort of loser!ellie a little, lil crying, petnames, use of y/n like once, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

for as long as you could remember, ellie had been your number one. she was your best friend in the entire world, you told her everything and she told you the same in return. okay maybe not... everything. there was one thing you'd been having an awful hard time keeping to yourself. though, you were sure it was much better in than out.

you and ellie were like an orange and black cat, you were fire and ice, the sun and moon, a writer and an artist.

ellie drew a lot. you'd seen multiple of her drawings before. you remembered the first time she'd doodled a frog onto your arm during a boring lecture from tommy and maria. she gave you a confused look to your state of shock. but you were merely surprised. sure, you knew she could draw. but you didn't know she was that good.

you were the writer. ellie was well aware of this. whether you had your laptop propped up on your knees, writing away or a pen in hand scrawling letters around the little pages. ellie always thought your handwritting was nice. it was much better than her fat chunky lettering that everyone always seemed to have trouble reading. she'd always watch the way your pen would dance across the page, so easily and smoothly. she was almost jealous.

you'd both grown to understand the boundaries of her drawings and your writing.

two things were off limits. one, was her big black bulky sketchbook that she often brought around to your house or sat under her arm. two, as your pink journal. she'd seen it once, questioning you what book was falling out from your locker drawer. you were honest with her. you told her it was your diary, the book you cherished the most, the book she could never read.

at first, ellie was a little taken aback.

sure, she knew everyone had their own secrets but it was you. you told ellie everything, or so she thought.

"oh, thank god." she spoke, pushing her jacket off as she walked into your house, right through the front door. the snow from outside decorated the crown of her head and the tip of her nose. "i was looking everywhere for that." discarding her wet boots at the door. "thought i lost it."

"nope." you chimed from your place at your kitchen counter. your stools had been the very ones joel had built for you. well, not for you. he really built them for anyone but when no takers raised their hand, you sort of felt like you had to. ellie laughed at you, stating nobody would want to sit at your kitchen counter ever again. "right here."

ellie soon made her way across the kitchen, taking the sketchbook from your hands softly. "you didn't... look at anything, did you?"

you shook your head from side to side. "'course not, els." that beloved nickname that had her cheeks turning pink. "'s the same way i wouldn't want you reading my diary. i wouldn't look at your sketchbook like that." god only knew what ellie williams was drawing on the cream coloured paper.

she breathed a sigh of relief, believing you. "okay, thank you." though she still had a gnawing feeling at the bottom of her stomach. what if you did? i mean, you wouldn't do that much less lie to her afterwards. but what if. once the thought entered her head, she had a hard time getting it to leave again.

"wanna watch a movie?" you questioned, placing your chin on your hands that had been propped up by the elbows onto your kitchen counter.

ellie sat herself on one of the white stools, not the wooden ones joel had made. "whatcha have in mind, sweetheart?" it wasn't often that ellie came over for less than a day. i mean, you two were practically attached together by the hip. if ellie was at your house, and even just for something as small as to collect the sketchbook, she was more often than not staying over.

you hummed, your lips pressed together. try as you must but you never were able to play off the stammering and flustered appearance as she called you those pretty names. but that was sort of the whole point, she liked the way your cheeks heated up. "something christmassy." you spoke. "like the muppets or something."

the girl merely raised a scarred brow at you. "it's november."

you huffed out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "'s never to early for christmas, els."

that was enough for ellie, she supposed. after this short interaction in the kitchen, you both ended up sat atop your living room couch, you fishing around with the remote. thankfully, she'd agreed on the muppets christmas carol, and you were not about to give up the oppertunity to watch your favourite movie with your favourite person.

a hand came down to your side, gently rubbing up and down gently. suddenly, the buttons on the controller seemed hazy and you blinked not once, not twice but three times, a breath falling from your lips. her fingers were so long and pretty, gently soothing the bare skin from underneath your shirt, barely hitting against your stomach. it wasn't much but for a touch starved girl alike you, it was enough to have your stomach in knots, your mind blurring into one big watercolour.

ellie seemed to have taken notice to the way your entire demeanour changed, her brows barely moving. "something wrong, baby?" you couldn't tell if she were being serious or not. perhaps it was because everything seemed hazy but truly, you couldn't distinguish whether or not she was trying to fool around with you or if her words had really been spoken with such innocence.

did she know what she was doing to you?

you cleared your throat, bee stung lips rolling. "lets jus' watch the movie, els." pressing what you assumed was the start button and watching as the screen lit up. avoiding the question completely.

you'd missed the way her lips curved up into a smirk.

of course, ellie williams was well aware of the effect she had on you.

you see, you'd been hiding this 'crush' on your best friend for quite a long time now. but it was times like this that you swore she knew, she had to. of course, she had to be aware of the way you stumbled upon your words around her or the way your face seemed on fire when she used those pretty nicknames on you. that was the thing, she called you the names, nobody else, not even those fuckbuddies of hers.

it begged the question, where did you stand to her?

you'd been best friends for so long now, you were sure she merely called you these things and seemed so impossibly close because she was comfortable with you. otherwise, there'd somehow be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she treated you so differently. though, the bigger part of you, the one consumed by romance novels and love letters, the one that consumed romantic films as if it were food, that part of you wanted to believe it was because you were different. well, not you necessarily. you didn't want to be different to all the girls she fucked, well, you didn't really care. you just wanted ellie's feelings for you to be different.

you didn't want ellie to look at you like you were one of those girls that'd spend the night then leave by morning without so much as a breakfast or goodbye.

you wanted her to look at you like you were worth a million stars. the way you looked at her.

you'd been enamoured by her since the day you'd met her and it appeared as though it were obvious to just about everyone other than her. your best friends dina and jesse had instantly picked up on it when you were kids. it was a wonder to both you and them how ellie still hadn't found out.

but even when dina and jesse brought it up, whether there was a teasing tone etched to their words or perhaps they were asking a serious question, you did exactly what ellie told you to do in every other situation. deny, deny, deny. probably the only time you ever took on ellie's advice.

the one person or thing, i should say, that actually knows about this little 'crush' on the auburn haired girl was the little pink notebook tucked away in the side drawer of your room, right next to your desk.

seeing as it was merely ink to a page, you didn't have to hide. you didn't have to become flustered the way you did when talking to ellie and you didn't have to lie the way you did to dina and jesse. you could simply breathe again.

it was the thing you admired most about this little book, the freedom.

you could say anything you wanted about anyone you wanted and nobody would ever know. it'd never leave the little pink book. besides, the only person that knew about your diary was ellie and you trusted her enough not to look through it. the same way you'd never pick up ellie's sketchbook and look through it.

not only because she asked but because you too know what it's like to have something of yours worth so much value. not in money, of course, but in a sense that it truly was yours and nobody elses.

"yes i could." you bit back to the auburn haired girl that sat atop your bed. the movie had ended hours ago, you'd even thrown on another one. this time, ellie got to choose and as always, she chose a horror. you hated horror movies and yet every single time, without fail, ellie was throwing one on.

"no you couldn't." she rolled her eyes. the current debate was whether or not you would be able to survive the scream movies. you were sure that you would, without a doubt but ellie wasn't so sure. "you can barely sit through a horror movie let alone be in one."

"they're just not interesting." you all but pouted, your stomach leaning against the bed as you looked up at her, tight lipped smile on your lips. "they always have the same plot and they're so... gory." it wasn't that you were scared of them necessarily. don't get me wrong, sometimes you're halfway behind ellie, screaming in her shoulder at what you're watching but even then, you still wouldn't choose to watch horror movies even without all the jump scares.

"yeah, yeah." she rolled her eyes again, she seemingly always did that when you were around. "just say you're a pussy."

you narrowed your eyes at her. "am not."

"annabell." the one word sent shivers down your spine.

"that's different." you defended. you hated the movie more than anything else in the entire world, probably even more than you hated ellie's silly jokes (you loved them really).

she cocked a brow. "how so?"

"because!" you exclaimed, flopping onto your back. "that's a scary doll that'll break into my house while i'm sleeping and―i don't know find some really creepy way to kill me. but ghostface?" you huffed out a giggle. "I could take him on."

this time, ellie tilted her head, a smirk on her lips. "really?" as if she didn't believe you at all.

you frowned at that, did she not think you were strong? you liked to believe you were strong, strong enough to take on ghostface? perhaps not. "i could take you on." you scoffed, looking at her arms.

although you wish you hadn't. the way they flexed under her shirt was enough to have your stomach rolling. her arms were the very thing that had you squirming, they were so defined and toned, along with her stomach, showing you what true muscle she had. your head felt nauseous merely looking at her.

she was getting closer to you, watching as you observed her, eyes never leaving her body. "that so?" teasing voice.

but you didn't respond with words, a mere "mhm." falling from your lips though it sort of sounded like a mix between a hum and a whine, you were failing so horribly at keeping your little secret inside.

"show me then."

you'd done this with ellie before, giggles falling from the bedroom door as you attempted to pin ellie down but right now felt so different. the air was off and the tension was rising.

at first, you tried to play it off. you playfully grabbed at her wrist, trying to push her onto the bed. usually, she'd let you win. she loved to see that victorious smirk on your face after she let you beat her. in the back of your head you'd know, though. you could never beat ellie.

but this time, she didn't let you win.

this time, she flipped your wrists and then you completely. your eyes widened when you realised how strong she was. you always knew she was strong, don't get me wrong but never had you been pinned down by her with such force behind her hands. you felt your face heat up and your stomach swirl as the girl landed above you, her head looking down at you with a smirk playing on her lips.

this time, she won.

"whatever." with a little shove, you manged to push her off. she let you, grinning as she sat back on the bed, pride swelling in her chest as she watched you flusteredly try to hide your face. "i have to go shower."

"good." she joked, watching you get up from the bed. "you fucking stink." she watched you grin and stick your tongue out at her, she did the very same in response, watching you enter your bathroom with clothes that had been sitting on your chair now in your hands.

and then, she was alone.

you'd done this the other day, about a week ago and everything changed. it was the day that ellie did the very thing she swore she'd never do and yet she did it anyway.

she just couldn't help herself.

when you were in the bathroom, showering, she'd reached over to the nightstand to look at the photograph you had on it, you and her, icecream on her nose and smeared on your cheek. a week ago, she'd grinned at it, thinking it was the most heartwarming thing she'd seen in months. then, her eyes had glanced to the little pink book that lay beneath it.

a month ago, she'd swear she'd never go near the thing, ever.

a week ago, she opened it and her eyes scanned the page.

she hadn't had any bad intentions, not really. she was just curious as to what you wrote about, what you were keeping so hidden from your dear, beloved best friend. and when she started, she couldn't stop. she soon realised that the lovely words scrawled across the page weren't about how the sunlight peeked through the clouds or how the rain fell into the puddles collected on the ground. the words were about her.

soon enough, she'd made herself believe that if the words were about her, surely, she should be allowed to read it, it was only right.

she waited until the batrhoom door closed before she reached over to the side of the bed. she knew it was wrong, so wrong, it was an invasion of privacy and she knew you'd probably burst into tears if you'd seen it. but you know what they say, curiosity kills the cat.

she placed the book on the bed, attempting to pick up where she left off.

i just can't help but like her!! what does any of this meannnn??? you don't touch someone like that as a friend, you don't call your 'friends' names like that, it's not normal!! i'm reading into this. i always fucking do this, i read into it and then bam! that's it! i'm gonna loose her to this stupid crush. it's not a crush, i think i'm in love with her. no, i can't be. it's a silly crush and it'll be gone in a day. EVEN THOUGH IT'S BEEN YEARS!! i hate myself and the only option is to throw myself off of a fucking cli―

"els, i think i left my―" she'd never shut something so fast in her entire life. ellie's wide eyes shot up, looking at you standing in the front of the bathroom doorway. "w-what are you doing?" you'd barely registered what'd happened, your eyes already burning.

"shit." there really was no way of defending herself. you'd caught her red handed with the book sitting on the bed. "darling, i didn't―"

"you read it." you deadpanned, feeling the tears begin to well up in your eyes. "you read it, you promised me you wouldn't read it!"

but ellie was already standing from the bed, discarding the book completely. "i know, angel, i know, i'm sorry i jus―"

she was attempting to race to the other side of the room, get to you and presumably comfort you. she couldn't stand the tears in your eyes. "do you know?" that you've been helplessly in love with her the past four years and running? her silence gave a response but not one that you were particularly happy with. "do you know?"

her voice was a meak whisper. "yeah, baby, i know."

humiliation, embarrassment, shame,

all you could feel.

you'd been helplessly and hopelessly in love with ellie for as long as time yet never have you truly worried about it getting back to her. dina knew but she'd never squeal, neither would jesse if he knew what was good for him.

that little pink book didn't just know briefly of this 'fleeting crush' it knew everything, every minor detail. ellie consumed the pages, every pen stroke had her name on it. you were sure that the book knew more about this crush than you could ever grasp.

"hey, hey, don't cry." she was up in your face, hands attempting to hold your face, soothing you gently. "hey, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she kept repeating everything but nothing could stop the way your lip wobbled and your eyes filled to the brim, the dam breaking as a fat tear rolled down your cheek. "okay, just―"

ellie was panicking. she knew how you could get, once you started crying it was damn near impossible to get you to stop. the way your lip trembled served as a constant reminder that she had been the one to put you in this situation, she had made you cry.

before you could even thin, there was a big black book being shoved in your hands. you didn't think to look down, mind to foggy and far away but ellie was already opening it up for you. "angel, look, see?" finally, you pulled your eyes away from the little pink book on your bed, eyes trailing down to the sketchbook. ellie briefly flickered through the pages, your brows pinched together. were they... drawings of you? "i do it too, see?" had anyone ever put their heart on the line merely to get you to stop crying? no. then again, nobody else had ever been quite like ellie williams.

you sniffled, glancing at one of the pictures. it looked so real, as if you were looking at yourself right now, eyes shut and lips sort of smashed against the pillow. "am i sleeping?" you sniffled, mouth sort of dry.

ellie found herself a dark crimson. "well―yeah." she only now realised what she'd done. she just wanted you to stop crying, she didn't think of what she was doing to herself, outing herself like that. then again, it was only right as she'd outed you before.

you swallowed thickly, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. "'s really stalkerish, els." you mumbled and she couldn't help but grin at you.

"i'm really sorry." her voice low enough to have you glancing up at her, straining your ears. "i shouldn't have read it."

you nodded your head. "you shouldn't have." but you couldn't help but feel a little weight lift off your chest. she knew now, at least you'd no longer have to hide it.

once again it left you wondering where you stood.

ellie could see the way your eyes went sort of foggy, blocking her out. she wondered what you were thinking now. "y/n?"

finally, you pulled your eyes away from the ground, looking at her perfect green eyes.

"i love you too."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[starlightrosa]

Fizzarolli's Nerves

Summary: Fizzarolli is preparing for Mammon's yearly clown contest, and he's getting nervous, as he just has to be perfect. But all this practicing is disrupting Asmodeus's plan of relaxing with his beloved. That won't do at all.

Pairing: Fizz/Asmodeus

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing, Mind-Rotting Fluff. (Author regrets nothing.)

(My very first fic! Please be nice <3)

“You’ll do it, Fizz. You’ll be fine. You need to be perfect for Mammon. Always perfect.” the imp mumbled, practicing everything he felt he needed to practice in order to win Mammon’s clown contest for the tenth time in a row. Fizz knew the elements of the contest off by heart, having won it so many times. So everything running through that little imp’s head was covered.

Balloon animals. Pie gags. Comedy section. Singing, dancing, acrobatics. You name it, Fizz practiced it. There was certainly no shortage on what Fizzarolli could do, and he had to win. He had to be perfect.

That was how Asmodeus, King of Lust and Fizz’s loving partner- er, BUSINESS partner, found him.

“What’s the difference between a snowman and a snow-woman? The snowballs! Wait, no. More energy, I need to have lots more energy. Like, twenty seven coffees kinda energy. Okay. You got this, Fizz. You got this. Try again. What’s the difference between a snow man and a snow woman? The snowballs! Hmm, still missing something. What could I do? Maybe I could juggle? Do a pose? Maybe I could hit myself in the face with a snowball? Um… ah, think, Fizz!” the jester rambled.

Ozzie yawned as he came into the living room where Fizz was, the rooster rubbing at his eyes.

“Froggie, it’s eight in the morning. Are you seriously practicing this early in the morning? Come back to bed, babe. You’re gonna be exhausted…” Asmodeus murmured, the grand lord rubbing at his eyes.

Alas, the imp did not heed Ozzie’s warning.

“Ozzie, I have to be perfect for Mammon. If I’m not perfect, then I’ll lose! And I don’t wanna lose, that just-! Ugh. It just can’t happen, okay? I need to be perfect. I need to be better than perfect! I-!”

And that was when Ozzie got on his knees and scooped Fizz off the ground, pulling his beloved into a hug. Despite initially struggling to get out, Fizz soon relaxed and sunk his head into his lover’s chest.

“Fizzie~” Ozzie coaxed, using that voice that Fizz liked to hear. Honey rich and sweet, it always comforted Fizzarolli enough to talk about what was bothering him, and it brought Ozzie some peace of mind to be able to know what was distressing his beloved imp partner.

“Ugh. Ozz, what if I’m not good enough this year? What if I don’t win?” Fizz asked. Ozzie just chuckled.

“Fizz, you’ve won for nine times straight. Ten times this year, guaranteed. And you wanna know why you win so much? Cause you got some talent about you. Plus, Mammon says he wants the best, and we all know you’re the best he’s got. And besides, if that fat Christmas tree wants something better, he just isn’t gonna find it. Plus he won’t give the others a chance, he’ll pull the strings so you win anyway, and I’ll put money on that bullshit.”

“I need to win, Oz! And I need to practice if I want to win. Can you let me go?” Fizz asked, trying to gently pry himself out of Asmodeus’s arms. The King of Lust, however, did not budge a single bit.

“Well, I would on any other day, but I am not having my Fizzie Frog being anxious as fuck. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go back to bed, watch a stupid rom-com, and laugh at it, spending time with each other along the way.”

“Nice thought. But maybe later, Ozzie.” Fizz murmured. And that was when Asmodeus’s grip tightened slightly.

“I don’t think I phrased it as a question, Froggie~” Asmodeus responded, the Lord of Lust’s fingers moving slightly towards Fizz’s stomach. Fizz squirmed a little in Ozzie’s arms, already knowing where this was going.

“Ozzie, don’t you fucking dare!” Fizz yelped, biting back a smile.

“Oh, but I do fucking dare, baby~ give Ozzie that tum-tum, and I’ll tickle those worries right outta ya!” he declared, his fingers finally landing as he snuck them up Fizzarolli’s jester shirt, softly poking and scratching along Fizz’s belly.

Poor Fizzarolli had no chance to resist.

“Pffffhahahaha! O-Ozziehehehe!” Fizz giggled, gently squirming side to side in his lover’s arms, trying to gently slap Asmodeus’s tickly fingers off.

“Hands to yourself, Froggie. Don’t make me get them out of the way~” Asmodeus teased.

Fizz pouted playfully even as he struggled a bit. Rough tickles made him laugh a lot, but these soft and gentle tickles were much worse sometimes if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

ESPECIALLY if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

Ozzie saw the playful pout and he tutted. His Fizzy, pouting at tickles? Oh, that just would not do, no sir.

Asmodeus migrated his gentle scratches down to Fizzarolli’s hips, enjoying the squeaky laughter that slipped out of his beloved’s mouth. “Aww, someone’s squeaky. Squeaky Fizzie.”

“Hahahaha!!! A-Asmodeus, it tickles! Q-Quihihit it!” Fizzarolli managed to press out, a dark black blush adorning his cheeks. Asmodeus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop audibly cooing at how goddamn cute his boyfriend was being.

“Not until you agree to come relax with me, Froggie. Just say that you’re done practicing for the day and these tickles will stop. How ‘bout that, huh? Seems a fair deal to me.”

“B-But I can’t stop!”

“If you can’t stop, then neither do these tickles, Froggie.” Asmodeus cooed, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers slipped up to Fizz’s torso to prove a point, beginning to gently count his beloved’s ribs. “Two. Four. Six. Eight…”

Fizzarolli was lost in snorting laughter as he felt Asmodeus’s fingers lightly working his ribs.

“Ahahahaha, hehehehe! N-Not fahahahair, Ozzie! Hahahahaha!” Fizzarolli cackled, the odd snort leaving him. For Lucifer’s sake, how could one imp be this cute? Asmodeus felt his heart squeeze in adoration with every snort that came from Fizzarolli’s mouth.

“All is fair in love and laughter, Froggie.” Asmodeus shot back.

Fizzarolli threw his head back, his jester’s hat jangling as he did so. Satan’s beard, it tickled so much!

“Aah! Ah, ah! Nohohohohahaha! Ozzie, not there! Not there, plehehehease!!” Fizzarolli begged, feeling his lover’s fingers tracing at that one spot at the crook of his neck.

Ozzie only chuckled, not stopping the traces. “I’ve not even done anything yet, Fizzie Frog. You can’t be that ticklish here, surely?” he asked, though Ozzie knew much, much differently. It was one of his little rituals he did. Before they both went to bed, Ozzie would give a gentle kiss on Fizz’s neck each night. The imp was rather ticklish on his neck though, and the feeling of Fizz slamming his face into Ozzie’s chest, trying to muffle his ticklish giggles never failed to bring a smile to the Sin’s face.

“N-No, I’m nohohohot!” Fizz lied, immediately going for the defensive move. But Asmodeus was no fool when it came to his beloved partner. Ozzie knew Fizz’s tells, just as Fizzarolli knew his.

“Is that so, Froggie? Funny, I seem to remember that you can barely handle my goodnight kisses on that neck of yours. Like, all I do is this…” he explains, landing a kiss on Fizzarolli’s neck, right into the crook of his neck with an overexaggerated “MWAH!” noise, grinning wickedly. “…And you just fall about laughing!”

Fizz, as expected, burst into hysterical giggles as he kicked his robotic legs every which way, trying desperately to not kick his beloved in the face.

“O-Ozzie! Stop it, hahaha! Stop it, that tickles, Ozzie!” Fizz cried out, a wide smile betraying his true feelings.

Then Asmodeus decided to get a little bit mean. He gently held Fizz against his chest and nuzzled the crook of his imp partner’s neck… before blowing a soft raspberry into the crook. Fizz absolutely squealed.

“EEEEEEEEK! HAHAHA, AAAH HAHAHA! SHIT, HAHA! OKAY, OZZIE, OKAY!” the ticklish little imp shrieked, going limp in Asmodeus’s arms. And that was when Ozzie knew he’d had enough.

“Thought as much, babe.” Asmodeus smirked, finally switching the mood from playful to cuddly as he stopped the tickles, his fingers softly scratching the top of Fizzarolli’s head. The imp melted under his touch as Ozzie walked back to their shared bedroom, the doors closing behind them.

Asmodeus settled Fizz under the covers with him. And soon the pair drifted off, smiles on both of their faces as the sounds of that dumb rom-com in question, Pretty Woman, played in the background forgotten by them both.

Finito! Hope you enjoyed this one :)

[withacapitalp]

Bathtubs, Closets, and Coming Home

For the servers daily prompt today "closet"

Eddie was giggling. 

Steve’s metalhead rockstar badass boyfriend was straight up fucking giggling. 

“Look at this, Sunshine,” He crowed, practically skipping into the ensuite bathroom, “There’s a clawfoot tub. Clawfoot!” 

Steve slowly made his way over to the bathroom, and by the time he was at the doorway, Eddie was lying fully clothed in said clawfoot bathtub. His legs were crossed and his arms were spread wide in front of him, a dragon with a weird porcelain horde. 

“Can you imagine the wicked wild sex we can have in this thing?” Eddie asked in a hushed whisper, his eyebrows waggling up and down. 

“Eddie!” Steve hissed, quickly glancing around to make sure that their realtor wasn’t standing nearby. 

Luckily Sophie seemed to be occupied elsewhere, so Steve felt brave enough to creep closer, linking his fingers with Eddie’s and giving their joined hands a single soft squeeze. From the moment they had set foot in the house, Eddie had been acting like a kid at Christmas, and the last thing Steve wanted to do was ruin his mood by being a sourpuss. 

“You’re not funny,” Steve teased, throwing on a mock pout just because he knew Eddie loved to kiss that look off his face. Sure enough, Eddie immediately sat up, turning to Steve so they were nose to nose, so close that Steve could smell his shampoo. 

“That’s because I’m hilarious,” Eddie declared, quickly smacking a kiss onto Steve’s lips before hauling himself out of the tub and striding back into the master bedroom, “And this place is perfect!”

Perfect. 

Steve’s heart seized up, and he leaned against the tub, trying to force himself to breathe steadily. 

On paper, Eddie was right, the house was perfect. With eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, an absolutely ginormous kitchen, a gorgeous backyard, and a guest house on property for when any parents come to visit, it was a dream come true. The house had everything that had been on their list, and with Corroded Coffin’s newest single staying at the number one spot for the sixth week in a row, it was well within their price range. 

On paper, this was everything they were looking for. It was perfect. 

And yet here Steve was, standing in a bathroom trying not to have a complete meltdown. 

“I mean, come on!” Eddie shouted, his voice carrying through to the bathroom. Steve forced his body to walk, barely feeling every step he took as he basically frog marched back into the bedroom. 

Eddie was standing with his arms directly out to his sides, trying and failing to touch each side of the doorway to the walk in closet. There was a big fat grin on his face, and in any other moment, Steve would be dying of happiness instead of despair. 

“This closet is bigger than the entire trailer,” Eddie stated, giddy with the exhilaration of someone who had finally found everything they were looking for. Somehow that one single statement was the thing that pushed him over the edge. 

If Steve was a good partner, he would be happy too. He would rush over to Eddie’s side and pull him in close, show him how much he loved the house, and they would be living happily ever after. 

But Steve wasn’t a good partner. Steve was a selfish goddamn brat, and he couldn’t hide how utterly miserable the house was making him. He couldn’t fake a smile and he couldn't make the tears in his eyes go away, no matter how hard he blinked. 

And the worst part was, Eddie- who was the world’s best partner- instantly caught Steve’s shining eyes and wobbling lip. 

“Steve?”

Fuck. 

It was just his name, but it was the way Eddie said it. That soft tone, the gentle voice that was reserved just for Steve and maybe the kids on a particularly bad day. Compassion and love and understanding all wrapped in a sweet Eddie ribbon, an arrow that sailed right over all of his walls and pierced directly into Steve’s heart. 

“Come here,” Eddie commanded, trusting his hand out. Steve was like a puppet on a string, everything he did tied to whatever Eddie wanted. He swayed into the closet, letting his boyfriend pull him into his arms, setting them both down on the floor with care. They ended up sitting side by side on the ground, their backs against the wall, Steve’s head on Eddie’s shoulder with a comforting hand curled in his hair. 

“It’s great,” Steve tried, hating how thin the lie was. He wanted to be able to put on an act, play along for Eddie’s sake, but there was no way it was going to work. 

“You hate it,” Eddie whispered, and there it was. Steve wasn’t able to lie, but neither was Eddie, and the disappointment in his voice was crushing Steve’s lungs. 

“No,” Steve replied immediately. Eddie scoffed, and Steve pulled away, just enough so they could look at each other. He wanted Eddie to know he was honest when he said he didn’t hate the place, because he was being honest. Steve didn’t hate the house, he loved it, but he hated the way it made him feel. 

“It’s not the house, Eddie. The house is great,” Steve trailed off trying to find the words to explain but coming up empty. He sighed shortly, frustrated with himself as the explanation for the strange rolling feeling in his stomach didn’t come. ”I mean it’s exactly what you want. This is the kind of place you’ve been dreaming about since you were a kid.”

“What I want,” Eddie emphasized, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Steve, “But not what you want?” 

“I’m being stupid,” Steve shot back. When Eddie made a sound and tried to reach out, Steve stopped him, knowing this was important. “No, seriously, Eds. I know I’m being super fucking irrational,”

“What do you think you’re being irrational about, baby?” Eddie asked softly, linking their pinkies and looking at Steve with those big brown eyes. 

“You grew up wanting a house like this. I grew up in a house just like this,” Steve explained, closing his eyes as he did. He wouldn’t be able to look at Eddie as he said it, wouldn’t be able to get through without losing it as he finally got to the heart of why this house scared him so badly, “It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,”

It was irrational. Eddie wasn’t going to stop loving him the second they bought the house. He wasn’t going to leave Steve alone in a tomb of their own making. They weren’t his parents. 

Steve’s brain understood that, now he just needed to get his heart on board. 

“Oh honey,” Eddie murmured. If it was anyone else, there would be pity there, and Steve wouldn’t be able to help being angry. But it was Eddie, who understood him more than almost anyone, and there was nothing to be upset about. 

“Listen to me Steve Buckley, and listen well” Eddie began, his voice firm and filled to bursting with love. A shiver rolled down Steve’s spine, and a small spark of joy burst in his chest as he heard his full name. Even just that reminder was enough to tell him he was never going to be alone again. No matter what happened, he had Robin. 

“I would be happy if we were living in a shoebox under an underpass. We can stop all this right now and live in the trailer for the rest of our lives. I don’t care where we are, or what we’re doing. I just want to come home to you."

And that was all he needed to hear. Steve already knew that, but now he understood it. Eddie might have to go on tour, or to record, or just need his own space, but this would be their home, and he would always come back to it.

To Steve.

“I love you so much,” Steve whispered, leaning forward for a kiss. It was a chaste thing, small and sweet but carrying the promise of everything that was to come. 

“Well boys?” Their realtor said from the doorway. They instantly broke away, both turning to face her with fear. Sophie was watching them with a knowing smirk, holding her pad and pencil like she already was aware of what they were going to say. 

“We'll take it,” Steve declared. 

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

You gotta admit, the start of The Mandalorian was a very weird couple of days for Grogu.

I mean, it all starts with blasterfire in the camp (which, by now, is really nothing new to this kid). But then everything goes still and your relatively safe little pod is opened by a droid and a guy wearing a helmet. You know they were the cause of the blasterfire and they seem to be working together but then the droid tries to shoot you—which, yeah, okay, fair; not the first time this has happened, maybe it’ll be over now—and there’s a shot but not from the droid, no, helmet-guy just took out his partner.

Okay.

That’s… also probably not unusual.

But then. THEN. Helmet-guy tilts his head and holds out a finger in a way people do for babies they want to interact with, not targets they’re gonna bring in. So you reach back because, hey, this guy seems kinda nice.

You leave together and it’s a really long way. You get ambushed and attacked by more hunters and helmet-guy protects you. You carry on. Helmet-guy is NOT a talker. But that’s cool; you don’t talk either.

You see he’s hurt. He’s been pretty nice so far and, hey, he got hurting protecting you. Only fair you heal him. But you keep trying and he keeps putting you back in your pod and, again, the fact neither of you talk is a problem. Whatever. He can suffer; he won’t die.

You get to his ship and, yikes. What a dump. It’s such a mess. And there’s scavengers picking it all apart, making helmet-guy furious. Helmet-guy tries to chase them, I mean, actually chase them. He’s just one little man and that’s a big fat tank. What’s he thinking? That he’s just gonna stop it with his bare hands—oh, that does seem to be the strategy. (Starting to think this guy just wings everything he does in life. Like. There is no plan going on here whatsoever.)

Helmet-guy gets electrocuted by about twenty scavengers and falls like six storeys in an unconscious heap. Is he dead? Well. Can’t fix that. It was nice knowing him. Wonder how long until the next—oh, no. He’s okay. He’s sitting up. Okay. We’re back on track.

You go back to his ship and yup. Dump. Wires sparking and whole walls missing. The toilet’s even been pilfered. Yeah, okay, this place probably wasn’t always like this but—what are you doing starting the engines? The ship has holes in it, man. Gigantic, we’ll-get-sucked-out-into-space-and-freaking-die holes!

Another long walk. No talk. At least the sunset’s pretty. Get to a farm run by an old man. Helmet-guy apparently knows old man. Ooh! Frogs! Don’t mind if I do… (“spit that out” yeah right. You’re not the boss of me. You think I’m gonna take orders from a guy that just tried to fight a tank with his bare hands? Think again, buddy.)

Looooong trek through the night and, cherry on top, it’s raining. Not so great, but, hey! More frogs!

You reach the tank helmet-guy unsuccessfully tried to fight the other day. He and the old man start talking to the scavengers. Probably can’t hear what they’re saying, don’t know what the random fire demonstration is meant to accomplish, but when the scavengers start getting too close and too interested in you, helmet-guy shouts at them to get away. That’s nice of him. Scavengers start chanting. Now this is just weird.

Next thing you know, you’re all crammed into the tank—the same tank helmet-guy fought and fell off of. Helmet-guy doesn’t fit inside. He’s mad about this. He’s mad about everything. Scavengers continue chanting.

Tank stops. Helmet-guy takes you with him to a cave. He leaves you outside the cave and he goes in. Is this… is this part of the ritual? Should have brought a frog for the road… didn’t know this was gonna be a whole day affair… aaaaannnnnd now helmet-guy’s flying through the air. Kind of like how he fell off the tank. But faster. (Very throwable, this guy. The galaxy’s soccer ball, if you will.)

Helmet-guy lands in the mud and, boy, does he look like a train wreck. I mean, he’s been getting beat up pretty much every waking minute you’ve known him but this is taking the cake.

Still alive, though.

And moving.

(Seriously. What are his insides made of? Concrete???)

Then there’s roaring and stomping and this gigantic—and I mean GIGANTIC—horned beast comes out of the cave.

Is this what you were doing, helmet-guy? Provoking the dangerous wildlife? Is getting your butt kicked like a hobby for you or something?!?

Horned beast is, of course, rampaging mad and trying to grind helmet-guy into the mud. Helmet-guy is trying not to become mud and at the same time is making sure you’re out of the firing line. Again. Very considerate of him. But this is really not going well… helmet-guy is definitely not gonna survive this unless…

Oh.

What the hey?

Let’s use the Force.

You stop the horned beast and, yeesh, should’a stretched or warmed up or something. This is a lot to do after not tapping into the Force for literal decades. Reeeeeallly hope this works… gonna… pass… out…

And then you wake up, like, who knows how long after. Probably starving.

But, hey! Helmet-guy’s alright! That’s so great—wait, wait, wait… are we in space?!? In the ship without a toilet????!?!?

[marianchurchland]

I'm boiling inside my own flesh after that trailer, so please accept this old, maybe objectively too creepy Cole drawing while I find time for new DA art. I can claim that it has a Haloween vibe, at least...

The reason it's so weird, by the way, is because I drew it using the poem "Wodwo" by Ted Hughes as a prompt. My bff @klovharun gave me the whole poetry book at the height of my DAI obsession because she thought "Gog" had Solas vibes; and it occurs to me right now that this has to be one of the best examples of friendship ever. Not just "I was thinking of you", but one step further, "I was thinking of your all-consuming fixation". She also made a Solas breakup playlist for me, which I still listen to. That is love!

Poems below for anyone who might like them.

Wodwo

What am I? Nosing here, turning leaves over

Following a faint stain on the air to the river's edge

I enter water. Who am I to split

The glassy grain of water looking upward I see the bed

Of the river above me upside down very clear

What am I doing here in mid-air? Why do I find

this frog so interesting as I inspect its most secret

interior and make it my own? Do these weeds

know me and name me to each other have they

seen me before do I fit in their world? I seem

separate from the ground and not rooted but dropped

out of nothing casually I've no threads

fastening me to anything I can go anywhere

I seem to have been given the freedom

of this place what am I then? And picking

bits of bark off this rotten stump gives me

no pleasure and it's no use so why do I do it

me and doing that have coincided very queerly

But what shall I be called am I the first

have I an owner what shape am I what

shape am I am I huge if I go

to the end on this way past these trees and past these trees

till I get tired that's touching one wall of me

for the moment if I sit still how everything

stops to watch me I suppose I am the exact centre

but there's all this what is it roots

roots roots roots and here's the water

again very queer but I'll go on looking

Gog I

I woke to a shout: 'I am Alpha and Omega!'

Rocks and a few trees trembled

Deep in their own country.

I ran and an absence bounded beside me.

The dog's god is a scrap dropped from the table,

The mouse's savior is a ripe wheat grain—

Hearing the Messiah cry

My mouth widens in adoration.

How fat are the lichens!

They cushion themselves on the silence.

The air wants for nothing.

The dust, too, is replete.

What was my error? My skull has sealed it out.

My great bones are massed in me.

They beat on the earth, my song excites them.

I do not look at the rocks and stones, I am frightened of what they see.

I listen to the song jarring my mouth

Where the skull-rooted teeth are in possession.

I am massive on earth. My feetbones beat on the earth

Over the sound of motherly weeping....

Afterwards, I drink at a pool quietly,

The horizons bear the rocks and trees away into twilight.

I lie down, I become darkness—

Darkness that all night sings and circles stamping.

-Ted Hughes

[seeingivy]

sweet nothing

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: talks of grief, references to hidden inventory arc, satoru just being in love, megs + tsumiki babies

an: giving love to one of the best songs on midnights. also idk where I procured this emo at like 1 in the afternoon but here we are

--

You give him the book after the two of you settle Megumi and Tsumiki into bed, in the few minutes of peace you and Satoru get before you both nestle into your shared bed. You hike your knees to your chest as he picks it up, a confused look meeting yours when he reads the title. 

“On Grief and Giving?” 

“I took Miki and Megs to the bookstore today and I thought you might like it.” 

“A book about grief? I’m not grieving.” 

You look over at him - sparkling blue eyes rimmed with red, the usual sparkiness in his voice gone for the past few days, and no smothering, smushy cheek kisses every morning. You scoot over and he opens his arm up, tucking you into his side. 

You whisper the words against his neck, your hands placed on his body, tracing out the lines of his biceps. 

“He doesn’t have to be dead for you to be grieving him, Satoru. The person we knew is dead and the reaction is all the same.” you whisper. 

Satoru frowns, his hand going back and forth on your lower back. You know he hates it, when you try to talk about it. When anyone does. 

“Just read a few pages. See if it’s your thing or not, okay?” 

He looks into your eyes for a few seconds before nodding, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. And when you leave to drop Tsumiki and Megumi off at school the next day, he reads the first page and promptly stops. 

Grief stays the same size. Life begins to grow around it. 

He thinks it’s stupid. 

--

from y/n 

you: don’t forget to bring strawberries home for froggy cake please!! 

satoru: okay love. anything else? 

you: that big fat ass 

satoru: got it :D 

you: you ruined it. 

Tomorrow marks two years since Tsumiki and Megumi have been staying with you. And of course, in your ultimate corniness, you’ve convinced all three of them to make a cake with you. And because you can never say no to Tsumiki and Megumi’s suggestions, you’re making a strawberry froggy cake. Because Tsumiki wants to try to make a little frog with frosting and Megumi just wants to eat the strawberries off the cake. 

He makes a mental note to drop by the store on the way home from his meeting with the higher ups and then his parents. Maybe buy some balloons or flowers or something to accompany the strawberries you asked for. He knows you said it was supposed to be a lowkey thing, just the four of you eating the cake together, but your annoyance doesn’t beat your surprised face, so he must. 

Satoru stops by the coffee shop first, making it a clear point to be late to his meeting with the higher ups for a very stupid reason, and gets a sugary caramel latte. He can hear your voice in his mind - berating him for picking something so sweet - but persists anyway. 

And as he leans against the counter, waiting for the cup with Satoru scribbled on the side, he takes in the shop, watching the people going around. He had never been too big on people watching, but it’s Tsumiki's favorite pass time at the park, pointing out people's silly outfits or how close and far they’re sitting away from each other. 

He spots two little girls, making little beaded bracelets in the far corner while their moms both nurse a warm cup of coffee in their hands. They have their hands wrapped around the porcelain, like they’re sequestering the heat from the glass. 

On the left, a young couple, nervously twiddling their fingers and cracking their knuckles as they make conversation - cheeks glazed pink and wobbly voices marking their conversation. They’re both dressed nicer than usual, clearly trying to impress each other. 

And in the far corner, leaning against the chair, is Suguru Getou. 

He nearly sprints to the other side of the shop when he sees him. Short hair, a man bun tucked neatly at the back with weirdly misshapen bangs and brown eyes. He can feel his heart racing, pounding even and the perspiration growing on his clenched fists as he moves closer. 

And when he reaches their table, standing way too close and looking straight into his eyes, he realizes that this is not Suguru Getou. Instead, a kid that bears far too much resemblance to him. But his eyes are rounder, his nose isn’t as pointy, and he is not a murderer. 

Satoru takes off and runs straight out the store, forgetting about his cup of coffee that’s getting cold in the pickup area.

--   

Yaga and the higher-ups' voices drone out in the back, as Satoru wracks his head. 

Why did he think that kid was Suguru? Suguru is dead. 

And it only now occurs to him, that for all intents and purposes, he really does think he’s dead. But he knows he isn't because Satoru let him walk free. Because he had to clench his fists and swallow hard to walk away the last time he saw him. 

But the man he knows is dead. Your voice is echoing in his head. 

“Satoru, are you paying attention?” 

“I mean, not really.” 

They all pinch their noses and groan, starting the lecture he’s sure they were giving him all over again. And it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

We want you to take more missions, there aren’t that many special grade sorcerers available. We want you to spend more time teaching, you're not doing enough. A long list of we want, we want, we want. 

And when the higher-ups trail out of the meeting, disdainful looks on their faces, he turns back to Yaga, who frowns at him. The question is on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to ask it. 

Do you ever think you ask too much of me?

He understands. He tries to. That he is the strongest sorcerer, that there’s no one like him. That he may have infinity, but he knows they forget the inner parts of him aren’t untouchable. That he’s still a person, that he’s still soft. 

Tsumiki’s shiny report cards make him beam with joy, fighting with Megumi keeps him up at night, and getting to hold you at night is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes. 

That sometimes the smell of blood never leaves his nose no matter how hard he scrubs in the shower, that when he sees a boy who looks like Suguru, the wound he thought he patched over feels like it’s freshly bleeding. 

But that doesn’t matter, because…

“You should be taking more missions. People are getting spread really thin.” Yaga says, clearing the dust off his desk. 

…Because he’s the strongest. 

--

As he drags his feet to the Gojo estate, he can’t help but survey the crowd as he walks there. Three girls with the same hair color as Getou, two boys with the same eye color, five people the exact same height, but none of them are Suguru Getou. 

When he reaches his parents house, pulling out the long black chairs he uncomfortably sat in for hours as a kid, his mind wanders even farther when they start talking. 

This time, he’s imagining. Daydreaming. What it would be like if he wasn’t the one gifted with the limitless and infinity. If jujutsu sorcery didn’t exist. 

That he’d have more time, be more free to do what he wanted. Make chocolate pancakes with you every morning, before the two of you walk together to drop off Megumi and Tsumiki to school. You’d work normal jobs - maybe he’d still be a teacher, a normal one - while you would do something that was entirely too impressive. Like saving lives or writing books or working at a non-profit. 

You would both go to Tsumiki’s first school dance together and take so many pictures that she’d walk away all embarrassed, red in the face. He’d go to every single one of Megumi’s baseball games, you’d both be the parents that are way too decked out, way too enthusiastic about their kid. 

Satoru would help you collect vinyls and when Tsumiki and Megumi were long gone and the two of you would put them on and dance in the kitchen humming. You’ll get wrinkles at the same time and your hair would gray so the two of you would look like pale-haired ghosts together. 

He zones back into what his parents were saying, their bored eyes glazed on him. And he doesn’t pay attention, because it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

They want him to be around more, because he should know how to take over the estate. They want him to meet with other clans, so he can help them with other deals. A long list of they want, they want, they want. 

And he walks out, he wonders if his parents want the life he imagined for himself, the way he wants it for Megumi and Tsumiki. If that was the life Suguru would have lived, if things were different. 

--

When he makes it home, the sun is sinking into the sky against the house, the sky an array of golden hues. And when he pushes his key into the lock, he’s met with one smiling face and two grumpy faces. 

You march over, flicking Satoru’s cheek as he moves closer to you, grabbing onto your hands. 

“Those strawberries better be hidden in your pants or something.” 

He feels his face pale as he remembers that in the loop of things he’s been thinking about all day, he forgot to get the strawberries for froggy cake. And the balloons and flowers and everything else he wanted to give the three of you. 

“Satoru. We really wanted strawberry froggy cake.” you whine, reaching up to rest your hands on his face, squishing hard. 

He reaches for your wrists, pulling them down from his face and looking down at your joined hands. 

“Oh well, I’ll just go grab them with Megumi or something.” 

He watches you pad back into the kitchen, not even phased by his shortcoming, as you place a hand in Tsumiki’s hair. She’s very focused on frosting her little frog in the center of the cake, her eyebrows knit in concentration. He makes his way in, leaning over the counter as he intently watches the three of you. 

“What if we all go to the store and pick up strawberries?” you say, a hand resting in Megumi’s hair. 

Megumi directs off of you and to Satoru, glaring at him. 

“Did you seriously forget the one thing we wanted you to get?” 

“Megs, don’t be mean. It’s always fun to go to the store together!” you respond. 

“I’ll let you pick out anything you want, kid.” Satoru mentions. 

Megumi gives him a satisfied smile, hopping off his seat to go yank his shoes on. Tsumiki follows suit and you give Satoru a glowing smile as you drag the three of them out, hands intertwined as you go to the store. 

--

And at the end of the day, in the few minutes of peace the two of you get before the next day, Satoru’s staring at you, memorizing the curve of your nose and the shape of your eyes, and the way your hair falls against your face. 

You bring a hand up, cupping the side of his face as you whisper in the dark. 

“You okay, Toru?” 

“What do you want from me?” 

He watches you frown and pull back, your hand shaking against his face. 

“Are you mad at me, Satoru?” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, bringing you back closer. He’s resting his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth that gathers in the back of your neck on his hands. 

“No. No, no. I just…I want to know what you want from me.” 

He watches you scrunch your forehead, as you ponder the question. 

“I mean. I’d really like it if you didn’t leave the toilet seat up all the time.” 

He cracks a smile, rolling his eyes at you, as he reaches for your hand to bring your knuckles up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss, noticing the sweet smile that spreads across your face when he does, and drops your hand. 

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.” 

“I mean. I’m not sure what you mean. It’s just small things, Toru. Like we should go on walks together sometimes in the evening, I think that would be nice. And we should watch all the Harry Potter movies together, like do a marathon and not sleep in between. And I’d really like a big diamond ring, circular cut, six pronged with a golden band.” 

Your hands, still resting against his face, are now meshed in with a spray of salty tears and a whimpering Satoru. You instinctively bring him forward, tucking his neck into your face as he cries into your shoulders. 

His tears are coating your neck as you run your hand through the white tresses of hair, whispering against his forehead. Imploring for what’s wrong. He doesn’t respond and the tears subside after a few minutes, his frame still shaking in your hold. 

“I’m not that attached to a golden wedding band, Satoru. I can do silver.” 

He laughs, pulling his face away from your neck to run his hands through your hair. 

“Gold is okay. I like gold.” 

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Tell me.” 

“Nothing. I just- that’s really all you want from me?” 

“I mean, yeah. What else would I want?” 

Satoru leans forward, pressing his lips against yours as he nearly cries into your face again, hanging off the ends of your lips. And you’re not sure what it means, what any of it means, but you let him - cry into your arms, hold you through the night, and make you breakfast the next morning. 

In truth, Satoru cherishes the fact that everyone may ask the world of him, but all you’ve ever wanted from him are sweet, sweet nothings. 

When you wake up the next morning, padding into the kitchen to make breakfast, you’re met with a box of strawberries, a sticky-note pressed on top. I love you, written in Satoru’s scribbly handwriting. 

Life has grown around Satoru’s grief. And it looks like you.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog  @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side. 

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

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[starshadyy]

what your favorite splatoon character says about YOU!

obligatory “this is a joke” disclaimer, please don’t take offense i’m only being silly👉👈

☆ ★ ☆

callie: you are a diehard squid sisters fan. you have an intrinsic sense for design and are probably super creative. you hate it when people misinterpret her. others wouldn’t assume it, but you actually need therapy more than most others on this list…😔

marie: you’re really intimidating but probably super nice. you’re actually good at the game and are well-versed in the meta. you may not be the best at communication, but you have a strong intuition and are good at reading people

pearl: an absolute feral crackhead who needs to be kept on a leash. definitely queer. nasty majesty is your national anthem. you breathe life and energy into every situation you enter, and others appreciate you for it. you are pearlina’s strongest soldier! 🩷🩵

marina: you are a massive nerd /affectionate. you either wanna be her friend or you have a fat crush on her. you listen to splatoon ost all the time. your room is packed with stuff from the media you like, including mountains of plushies

shiver: you join her team during splatfests even when you don’t necessarily agree with the platform. you’re likely very sarcastic and always speak your mind. oh yeah, and you’re a weeb

frye: you loved her from the start and defended her honor back when everyone was clowning on her design. you’re very talented but humble about your accomplishments. you would bite someone if allowed

big man: you act laid back but are probably filled with anxiety. i get the vibe that you would own an unconventional pet of some kind [turtle, frog, ferret, etc.]. you’re for sure the mom friend. you know nothing about splatoon lore

captain 3: you are the BACKBONE of this fandom and i have nothing but respect for you. you’re probably ranked pretty high in competitive and are likely a completionist

agent 4: you grew up on splatoon 2 and were sure that they would show up in side order only to be… uh, half right? i’m so sorry sweet prince /gn. don’t you worry, your day [splatoon 4] is fast approaching…

eight: you’re very analytical and derive great joy from the story aspects of splatoon. you either write or read fanfiction and maybe cosplay too. you LIVE for the found family trope, and also probably ship them with captain 3. you have amazing taste :]

neo agent 3: you think lil buddy is the most adorable creature to walk the planet. you wish their initial outfit was actually accessible in the game. you’ve probably only played splatoon 3

cap’n cuttlefish: you’re an og who’s been around since splatoon 1 but still know next to nothing about the lore. you don’t main a weapon, and instead prefer to bounce around. you are… an inscrutable crackhead who i want to study

dj octavio: you’re willing to die on the hill that he is not a villain and only did what he did to support his people [you’re right btw]. you’re actually really chill and fun and i have a lot of respect for you. also, i’m liable to believe that you ship him with cuttlefish, don’t you? DON’T YOU?!?

commander tartar: you’re… ME??? villainous characters are always your favorites. you think octo expansion is a masterpiece [and you’re entirely right]. you’re a splatoon scholar and scour every obscure twitter post and artbook note to satiate your hunger for that sweet sweet lore. there’s something deeply wrong in your head.

mr. grizz: you play a lot of salmon run but are actually kinda bad at it [shhh i won’t tell]. you suffered through after alterna just for his backstory log and the bear ears. i’m going to go out on a limb here and say… you have daddy issues

smollusk: you LOVE the idea that marina and pearl are its adoptive moms. you’ve beaten side order with every palette. you overuse the “🥺” emoji. you miiight be a little annoying, but your heart is in the right place… probably

acht: either the chillest person you’ll ever meet or the most insane. probably both. you’re 100% queer and probably neurodivergent too. i bet you listen to will wood and / or tally hall. i wanna be your friend

harmony: you know every chirpy chips song by heart. you’re probably really sweet and i know you make banger fanart. you have an affinity for cute things and i bet your favorite pokémon type is fairy. DEFINITELY neurodivergent.

cq cumber: ???you both confuse and frighten me!!! what can i even say? you’re a cryptid! but honestly, you’re kinda iconic. i salute you, you freak of nature🫡

iso padre: I LOVE YOU. you’re accepting of all people and are just an absolute saint in general. daddy issues, but you’re coping way better than the grizz fans. also, i’m betting that you’re neurodivergent

sheldon: i didn’t think you existed, but turns out that you do? you actually listen to his rambles. splatoon 2 is your favorite game in the series. you’re able to see the value in things that others tear down and y'know what? i respect that [not saying i approve of your character choice though]

judd: wait, why him? ohh wait, i know! you probably just don’t care about splatoon’s story at all and / or love cats. there, that’s totally it, right?

lil judd: you either DON’T know his lore and just like the cute little kitten, or you DO know his lore and you’re unhinged. i’m scared of you

spyke: you’d bark for him without hesitation and DON’T pretend you wouldn’t. you clown. you absolute freak. i know what you are. /j

murch: if i had to bet, you’re probably the shy type who prefers to let others do the talking for them. you might secretly be a little freaky though, and i think you should embrace that side of yourself. you’re safe here. be free.

[mandoriana]

HEADCANON - HANNIGRAM

We all know that Hannibal is a carnivore, but what few people know is that Hannibal abhors the consumption of red or white meat. He can eat fish, but any other animal meat besides seafood does not consume.

Hannibal hates the pain that animals pass on to humans to have meat to eat.

Hannibal had a sheep when he was a boy and took very good care of it, but one day one of the mansion's employees killed her for them to eat, and Hannibal killed the clerk for revenge.

Will, despite what many think, is a great cook, but not like Hannibal. In fact, Will is more in southern cuisine and comes much more than just fish. Ironically, Will doesn't care about the animals that die for him to have food; he honors all their parts.

Will's favorite meat is frog and alligator. His grandmother used to cook a lot when he was little because they lived in a swamp.

Hannibal dreamed of cooking with Will as they did during the second season, but he was horrified by the cruel way Will cooked. (I imagine a lot that Will came out one day saying that he was going fishing in the lake and came back with a cooler full of frogs. Hannibal was horrified by Will cutting off the frogs' legs while they were still alive.)

Once, Will came home with a living citizen and started bathing and "massaging" the swan and even hydrating its feathers. He was so careful that Hannibal really believed they had a pet city. Imagine his shock when he came back to see Will cooking the case that he had so affectionately called "Leda."

Once, Hannibal bought a pig to be his pet. Her husband ate the poor pig in two weeks.

Hannibal is traumatized to see her husband cooking.

During the escape, they hid in a cabin in the forest for a while. A turtle befriended Hannibal, who fed her leftovers from her meals. When the poor thing got fat enough, Will took the turtle and cooked it alive in a pot. Hannibal is still traumatized today.

Watching Will cooking, for Hannibal, is like watching a horror show.

Hannibal once fainted when he saw Will making food with peanut butter, animal meat remains and vegetable remains (he thought it was their dinner, but it was just the food of the ces.)

When Hannibal's complaints about his cooking get very annoying, Will begins to make atrocities in cooking, such as using canned meat and mixing it with peanut butter. Hannibal almost has an aneurysm every time.

Chiyoh was prejudiced against Will's food until she ate it and loved it. So the two stood against Hannibal about human flesh being tastier than animal flesh.

At Christmas, Will gave Hannibal a T-shirt that said, "Eat people, save animals."

The only meat Will wouldn't be willing to eat is dog meat and maybe cat meat, but he's not against eating the feline if he's hungry.

Will and Hannibal love recipes that contain eels. Will prefers to cook them while they are still alive, but Hannibal prefers to cook them only when they are dead.

Will thinks it's hypocritical for Hannibal not to have a problem with human violence, and Hannibal thinks it's Will's hypocritical not to have a problem with animal violence. (Will's excuse is that only a few animals are not food, while Hannibal's excuse is that comparing human pigs with sweet animals is blasphemy.)

When they watch "Chicken Run," Hannibal twists for the chickens from start to finish, while Will supports the "villain" who is just doing his job. They had an argument after watching the movie.

Will just doesn't eat stones because stone soup is bad and there are no other ways to eat stones.

Will cuts ingredients with scissors, and that makes Hannibal freak out every time.

During their escape from the FBI they hid in the woods and Hannibal is sure he once saw Will frying a snake.

Hannibal likes to eat raw ginger, and Will calls him a psychopath for it.

Will makes a cup of coffee with seven tablespoons of coffee grounds, while Hannibal makes a bottle with four tablespoons of coffee grounds. Whenever one wakes up before the other and makes coffee, one of them ends up making faces for the drink.

[schoenht]

In Every Lifetime

THE DATE(TM) !

《 previous | masterlist | rewrite, restart 》

Jamil didn't know what to say as he saw you walking towards him, a familiar grin on your face that had a tinge of anxiety behind it. He was the same, only his hands were sweating a little. He was praying that they would not sweat if he decided to hold your hand.

His less logical side of him was positive it would happen at some point.

But when he saw you, the world stopped. How had he been so oblivious before? Were you always this radiant? The way that not even the sun could match to how you shone when doing such a simple thing like walking, Sevens, he was so utterly in love with you. He didn't hate the thought either since he had a feeling that if you agreed and teased him, you liked him too in some way.

"Hello. I'm so happy to see you." Act cool. "I didn't know if you'd come." Stupid.

You had just suffered through hours at the hands of Vil and there was that lingering fear that something was out of place. You could already hear Vil lecturing you about your posture, the way you walked and smiled. You ignored his voice and beamed at Jamil. "Of course I was coming. Where are we going?"

"Hmm, I have several ideas if you don't mind?"

"Lead the way."

He walked at your side but he was internally talking to himself, asking himself what he should do. This was the one thing he forgot to wrangle an answer out of the Light Music Club. Maybe when he got there with you, he could ask you something from the list of questions that Lilia gave him. But that's stupid, what could he possibly ask you that didn't make him sound weird? However, this silence was killing him.

"What animal do you think you could take in a fight?" He blurted out. He could feel his cheeks and ears burning as he watched you think, your face morphing into a thoughtful expression.

"I'm still thinking. What about you?"

Ah. You reversed it onto him with that smile of yours that he was weak for. He cleared his throat and looked at the ground. "I think...maybe a frog. I was going to say a duck, but ducks are angrier than Sebek when someone insults Malleus."

"Oh, but have you seen swans? Those things are so angry for no reason at all!"

Before long, he's in a set rhythm of bantering back and forth with you, the conversation so easy to carry. Unlike other people, he doesn't feel the urge to keep his walls up, to hide behind his mask. He feels like he's actually himself, like you see him.

Because when you turn to look at him, he feels like you're seeing him for him.

"Ooh, let's go get some of the cute little pastries!" You take him to one of the shops that caught your eye earlier, your hand holding his wrist. You were so close to his hand, if you had moved a few inches. Even he couldn't stop thinking about that as he looked down at where you were holding him. Some part of him was excited due to your proximity, but the other part of him wanting to crawl into a hole since he could feel himself sweating from anxiety that you wouldn't like him as much as he hoped.

You had just pulled your wallet out when he frowned and stepped forward. "I'm paying. Put that away."

"No, you're crazy."

"Put that away, I'm not letting you pay."

"Jamil!"

He didn't even look at you, immediately paying for your pastries. You were grateful, even though you nudged him playfully and shook your head. "Okay, but I'm paying next time."

"Fat chance."

"At least there is one." Your pastry was too cute to eat, with its sweet and adorable eyes as well as how colorful it was. Jamil had gotten something like yours, but unlike you, he had already nibbled off the ear. "Wow, that's just cruel."

Jamil grinned, "It's a pastry and it's really good."

"It's shaped like a bunny! How dare you?!"

He was laughing as he teased you. Both of you could feel every time one of your hands landed on the other and somehow, you found yourselves leaning closer to each other as you walked through the city. Most of the shops were ready to close, causing you to resort to window shopping, pointing out things that were cute or pretty. At some point, you found yourself in a shop after seeing a plush snake at the window. You had stated it looked like Jamil, to which he was unamused at. Internally though, he was pleased and amused at how excited you were.

The plushie was given to him and he was so incredibly happy as he hugged it, although he tried to play it cool. But this felt like something that he had for himself and for the first time, he had gotten a present from someone he liked. Neither of you knew but that would be the object that he would keep with him when he slept.

Your date led the two of you to a bench near the pier as you looked up at the stars. It was calm, quiet, peaceful. Then you said, "What time should we go back? Honestly, if it was up to me, I'd just stay out with you."

"Glad to know we're on the same page." He looked up at the stars with you but after a few moments, he took a small glance at you from the corner of his eye. He softened at seeing the reflection of the stars in your eyes. You were ethereal like this and his heart clenched at the sight of you. His gaze was on the sky above, yet his hand was inching towards yours. His movements were barely noticeable; nevertheless, it was like you were connected with him. His pinky finger barely touched your hand before you slowly turned it. His fingers slid between yours, his palm pressed against yours. Neither of you said anything but the tension said it all as you soon moved closer to each other. Your head on his shoulder, his head on yours.

"Oh, there are fireworks supposed to appear tonight," he mumbled as he rested against you. "I forgot about that."

"No way. Jamil Viper, forgetting something?"

"I know, sounds impossible." He chuckled a little and his declaration came true. Multicolored sparklers lit up the night sky with its gold, red, silver, green hues. They were reflections of what was going on between the two of you. His heart kept pounding as well as yours. However, in the midst of how you two felt, there was also the calm that comes with someone you can trust. For Jamil, who was not able to trust easily, this clarified something inside of him, something he never thought he'd be able to have.

His head moved back from yours and as if in sync, yours tilted up to look at him. His eyes were beautiful, reflecting the colorful lights from the fireworks. He stared at you as if you were the only thing in his world, and you were. You were the only thing that mattered. In his eyes, if there was any question, you were the answer.

His lips were parted slightly as were yours. There were only a few seconds of tension between you, and it was as if it was an eternity. His hand slowly moved up to cup your cheek and he leaned in, his lips centimeters from yours before he stopped, giving you a chance to pull away if you wanted to.

But you didn't.

The second his lips met yours, the fireworks in the background were silent to the two of you. There was only that feeling of being one, of finally finding what you've been looking for. His heart was beating erratically and for the first time in his life, he could not think. He could not think of anything other than you. Nothing mattered other than you. As long as you were with him, as long as you held onto him, his heart and soul would be yours. He did not mind being attached to you if it meant you would be his as well.

His kiss felt like the rain after a hot summer, it felt like coming home from a hard day. His other hand moved up to cup your other cheek to press you closer, as if desperate to not let you go at all. He was selfish, it was clear by the way he held you. His touch was all to gentle, his lips firm with the slight taste of the pastry you had a few minutes ago. Maybe it was an hour. Maybe it was centuries ago. In his arms, time meant nothing. Time was endless.

The kiss could not be described in one word, Jamil thought, nor a single book. It would take him centuries to describe how he felt as he finally kissed you, feeling a sense of calm washing over him. Maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, he would never have to leave you. He would never need to lose you. Every press of your lips against his was a reminder of how much he needed you to be with him, desperate for your affection, for you.

Jamil had never known the meaning of love until he met you.

a/n: different format bc NYAHAHA KISS SCENE wouldn't have done it justice through smau format so here we are ahahahaha four more chapters I'M SO SAD yall i could not stop giggling and kicking my feet. i'm so serious. the reason that i took so long (other than video essays) is bc i was shaking and giggling so bad. i even had to listen to metal so i could calm down it was so bad

taglist: @taruruchi @idiaia @starchilll @h0n3ysgh0st @yumixxn @kalims @sakuram1nt @proximitybobomb @shiemori @fluffimemes @meigalaxy @kaechannn @ravenkake @unlikelyinternetprincess @magical-mace @lifeless-bug @atl4ntxc @pyrrhicgaze @chay2 @everettelz @voreaux @yelshin @kahunap @tingerines @teamoymas @pastellepastary @mochimiyaas @i-have-a-lot-of-ocs @sxftiebee @eccedentesiast-sapphic @kenma-izhu @twisted-jamil @bre99 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @yuchanyuna @faeryarchives @musclefanatica @stormyovent0aster @fangirl-d-blog @iameliseposts @minkyungseokie @skintights0cks @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @sugarrush-blush @kalims-pessimist-bestie @stupidwingboy @simp-incoming @kurenix @alex-the-bee

REMINDER: taglist is open! you will be tagged on the reblog however bc tumblr gave me a mf limit BYE but if i cannot, I'll try and tag you on the comments !!

[redandbrown]

Seducing Hermione Granger

Chapter 3 (Final Chapter)

Author’s Note: Okay I tried to have this finished by last week, but that’s not what happened. The more I wrote this, the more I realized I could have easily stretched this out for several more chapters, so it got kind of hard to condense it. Maybe one day I’ll do a longer one…

Rating: Definitely mature.

“All I am saying is, it’s her job, isn’t it? To maintain order in the library?”

“Job? What job?? ‘Mione the students have all gone home. The school’s in shambles. It’s just teachers and adult witches and wizards here. Give me those,” he added.

Ron grabbed the heavy pile of books off the table as Hermione reached for them, and tucked them under his arm.

“What’s she gonna do? Send us to detention?” He asked walking beside her.

“Well, no, I suppose not. We should check out those books, though,” Hermione said veering right.

“She’s not here anymore. I think we chased her away. Serves her right for being a codgy old cock block.”

“Ron!”

“Well she is! We hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet…”

Hermione hid a grin as she reach over the librarian’s desk to grab a quill and a piece of parchment.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a list of the books I’m borrowing. She used to let me do this all the time when I came in after hours.”

“After hours? All the time?! Honestly, Hermione, Harry and I failed you. C’mon.”

He held the door open for her and Hermione blushed.

“What?” He asked seeing her red cheeks.

“Nothing,” she said walking through the door. “I’ve always liked that you do that for me is all. Hold the door open I mean.”

Ron smirked at her.

“Well uh, I have a confession. I don’t really do it for you,” Ron stopped, dropped the books on the floor with a loud thud, and pulled out his wand.

“What?” Hermione asked confused.

“I mean how could any one witch need this many books,” he muttered under his breath as he conjured a book bag and magically packed all of her reference books. Then he picked it up and flung it over his shoulder.

“There that’s better,” he said grabbing her hand with his free one. “Yeah, it’s uh- it’s more for me than it is you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ron looked at her as they walked down the hallway. She suspected he was trying to figure out how much he wanted to tell her.

“Well, I like the view, you see,” he grinned at her.

“The view? What view?” She asked still lost.

Ron let go of her hand and gave her bum a squeeze. Hermione yelped in surprise.

“Yeah, the view,” he said waggling his eyebrows at her.

Hermione giggled and slapped his arm. “Ron!”

“What? It’s a nice view.”

“What about our robes? It’s not like you could see anything in those.”

Ron gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Stupid robes. But on the weekends when you wore your jeans- well, those were the best.”

Hermione laughed. “Ron Weasley, you’re terrible!”

Ron just grinned as he held her hand again and kissed it.

“Frog’s breath,” he added to the giant portrait of the fat lady.

“You have frog’s breath,” she shot back before admitting them entry.

They stepped into their deserted common room, and Ron deposited her books at her favorite table.

“Well, I have to go check on Neville and Luna. They’re probably done with the Hufflepuff dungeon by now. If so I’ll head to the north wall. Are you coming?”

“No. I need to stay here and figure out this memory spell, but when I’m done, I’ll join you.”

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall around five?”

Hermione smiled at him. “Okay.”

Ron kissed her hand again and just held it between them as he stood there for a moment to stare at her.

Finally he told her, “Figure it out soon, so we can pick up where we left off. I wasn’t done with you this morning, you know.”

Hermione felt her whole face burning. “I- well, yes. I mean- yes on figuring it out. It- it shouldn’t take long. I- I wouldn’t imagine.”

Ron tried not to smile and instead pulled her to him. He gave her a searing kiss and squeezed her bottom one more time.

“Only I get to hold the door open for you,” he told her.

Hermione, still blushing madly, bit back a grin.

“See you at dinner.” And with that he climbed through the portrait hole.

***

Dinner was a slow affair. At least in Hermione’s opinion. She had so much to tell Ron, but she didn’t want to do it in front of the others. After all if she explained to Harry and Ginny about her memory loss, the inevitable question would be what memories were lost. And Hermione was definitely not willing to share those.

“Hey! Ron and I need to take care of something,” she told Harry and Ginny as they were all getting up to leave.

If she expected them to take the mickey, she was mistaken. In fact Ginny seemed to perk up at the idea of having some alone time with Harry.

“Sure! Take your time!” Ginny said grabbing Harry’s hand.

“Yeah, we’ll see you then,” Harry said smiling.

Ron narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“But we might be back early. At any moment!” He said a little louder than was necessary.

Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry did have the decency to look a little nervous.

“Ron, this way,” Hermione said grabbing his arm.

Ron forgot all about Harry and Ginny as Hermione led him out of the Great Hall.

“Where are we going?”

“I just want some privacy.”

Hermione led them to an empty classroom. She locked and silenced it for good measure. Ron leaned against the teacher’s desk, waiting patiently.

“I figured out the memory spell. What it is I mean,” she told him.

“Go on,” he encouraged her.

“Memory spells are quite interesting really. There are five memory altering spells altogether you see. And the spells are divided into two groups. Two of them are considered very strong, and the other three are much weaker and easily broken. But most of them work by erasing or hiding past memories, whereas only one of them will erase future memories for a set amount of time. That’s the one I was exposed to. It’s called innovatus memoria.”

Ron crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned forward, looking concerned.

“So someone threw this innovatus memoria at you right after the battle was over? And then you forgot the next eight hours?”

“Well, probably not. Innovatus Memoria is the only memory spell that can be attached to objects. Most likely I touched an ordinary teacup or something that had been enchanted with it. Though, I think Madam Pomfrey was right. I don’t think it was meant for me, specifically. I think I was just the unlucky one to find it. And given that she told me several students had reported memory loss to her this morning, I’m guessing there are multiple enchanted objects around the castle.”

Ron looked lost in thought. “But who would do such a thing, and why?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly don’t know. It could have been a cruel prank inflicted by someone, or a misguided attempt at attacking enemies. We were in a battle after all. It could’ve been a death eater or a student or someone else entirely. I don’t know if we’ll ever know the answer. But…”

“But what?” He asked reaching for her hand.

“The incantation to break it is extremely complicated. It will easily take me a week of practice to get the hang of it. And even then, it’s hard to do it on myself. It would be better if someone else performed it on me. I guess I’m just going to have to wait a few days to let Madam Pomfrey do it.”

Ron pulled her to him for a hug, and kissed the top of her head.

“C’mon,” he told her leading her to the door. “I have an idea.”

***

“The Room of Requirement?” Hermione asked breathlessly as they stopped in front of the empty wall where they knew the room to appear.

After performing the pacing ritual, they entered into a room that was the exact replica of the boy’s seventh year dormitory.

“What’s this?” She asked him.

“Thought we’d have a bit more privacy here, than the real dorm.”

“Honestly I’m surprised it worked after that fire Crabbe set in here.”

“Yeah part of me wasn’t so sure about that either,” he said. “I um… I thought we could try something. To get your memories back I mean.”

Hermione moved to sit on the four poster that looked exactly like Ron’s. It even had his name on the trunk at the end of the bed.

“What’s that?”

“I owled my dad today, after I left you in the common room. Explained what happened to you. Well… I didn’t tell him everything,” he winked at her and she blushed. “Dad’s got a mate in the Department of Curse Breaking. Name’s Dave. Nice guy, really smart. His department also handles memory charms because they’re so weaponized. Dad told me that there’s a non magical way to break some of the spells. I’m assuming he meant the weaker ones that you were talking about.”

“Like what? I didn’t see anything in my reading,” Hermione asked curiously.

“Well, you wouldn’t. Not yet anyways. It’s something they’ve been experimenting with for only a couple of years. Dad says it’s not always successful, but many times it is. He said Dave told him you don’t actually lose your memories under the charm. They’re just locked away you see.”

“Really? Well what does that mean?”

“It means they can be unlocked. If you know what you’re doing.”

“Great! So what do we do?”

Ron hesitated for a moment, biting his lower lip, and studying her. “It only works if you have a witness or some sort of record of your lost memories.”

“Why?”

“Well, you have to try to recreate some of the lost memories.”

Hermione blushed fiercely.

“You’re telling me that you want to recreate what we did last night?”

Ron looked her up and down and his whole expression changed.

“Well… yes, but more than that. I- um. I need to walk you through it. To tell you what I did to you, and how I did it. I need you to recreate the scene with me.”

Hermione was certain she resembled a tomato at this point.

“What do you say?”

Hermione could only nod.

Ron bit his lower lip as he considered her for a moment and took a step back before removing his shirt. Hermione stared at his pale, broad shoulders. She didn’t know he had that many freckles on them. His wand came out next, and he transfigured his jeans into sweatpants. Hermione was watching him silently when looked up at her and offered his hand. He pulled her off the bed and Ron started walking backwards pulling her along with him.

“So you’re going to describe our night together?” She asked staring into his eyes.

His hand went to her waist and he spun her around so that he was now walking her backwards. When the stone wall stopped her in her tracks, she felt her head hit something soft. Ron had moved his hand behind her to cushion the blow.

“Yes,” he told her.

“Right, then,” he continued sounding business like now. “Well it started after we both took our showers. You walked into my room, while I was getting dressed. I only had sweatpants on.”

Hermione gulped “Ok.”

“I pinned you against this wall, like this,”he said leaning his body weight on her. “And you held my face in your hands.”

Hermione gently grabbed his face and she saw his eyes darken as they traveled down her body.

“And I kissed you, like this.” Ron leaned in and kissed her, gently, slowly, but it quickly became more heated. He grabbed her face and deepened the kiss, and Hermione let out a small moan.

He pulled back to talk to her.

“I took care of this problem,” he said as his hand snaked under her top and Hermione felt her bra loosen. “And what did you say to me? Do you remember?”

“N-no,” Hermione felt him kneading her breasts in the most delicious way and her head fell back onto his hand again.

“You told me you wanted more.” She felt his mouth come to rest next to her ear. “Tell me, Hermione. Tell me what you want.”

“I- I want more. Ron, please!”

Ron’s hand left her breast and traveled to the button on her jeans. He snatched it open and slid his hand in, and she whimpered at his touch.

“Mmm fuck! This is better than last night,” he groaned in her ear. “Because I know what happens next.”Ron ran his callused finger slowly, softly, back and forth and she called out in surprise.

“You okay?” He whispered, and she nodded quickly. His teeth grazed her ear, and she felt a shudder run down her spine.

As his mouth left to trail across her neck, he asked her, “Do you remember what you said then?”

He pulled back to watch her answer his question, his finger keeping a slow steady pace inside her pants.

“I said I wanted you?” she guessed. She was panting hard now.

“That’s right. Good girl,” Ron nodded his approval and his lips returned to her neck, his hot tongue tasting the sweat on her skin. This was too much. How long could she put up with this sweet torture?

“C’mon, Hermione. Keep going. What happened next,” he urged her.

Hermione whimpered. “Ron, I don’t know-

“Yes, you do,” he cut her off. “Try.”

“You- you slid your hands under my shirt,” she said with more certainty than she felt.

And Ron’s hands left her pants to slide her shirt up until he pulled it over her head. His eyes were roaming all over her.

“There you go. Tell me, Hermione. Then what?”

Hermione grabbed the waistband of her jeans, and started to slide them off her body, but Ron grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head.

“Wrong,” he told her, his blue eyes dark and lustful.

“But I-I don’t know!”

“Yes you do,” he told her, keeping her pinned in place. “You’re the same Hermione you were yesterday. Your wants, dreams…fantasies... None of that has changed since then . So tell me. What do you want right now? What do you want me to do to you?”

Hermione took a big gulp and in a shaky, nervous voice, “Undress me,” she told him.

Ron gave her a sexy grin and released her hands.

“That’s right,” he said before he dropped to his knees in front of her and slid her pants and knickers off her body.

He was staring unabashedly at her, his hands sliding reverently up her thighs.

Hermione looked down at Ron sitting on his knees, shirtless, staring at her body, and waiting for her next command. And her lust for him took over. She knew exactly what she wanted.

“Ron stand up.”

And he did, towering over her again. She ran her hands over the hardened muscles of his chest and followed it with her lips. How could he feel so soft and warm and solid all at the same time?

Ron’s hands went to her hair, rubbing her scalp as she tasted every inch of his skin. She could tell he was losing control too when his breathing became more ragged and his other hand was rubbing her back firmly.

“Ron, take me to bed,” she told him and he lifted her off the ground, kissing her soundly as he walked.

When her head hit the pillow, he started kissing down to her chest.

“No, Ron, I want you.”

Ron froze. His eyes were reading her expression.

“But that’s not what happened next.”

“I don’t care about that right now. Take your pants off. I’ve wanted you for so long. Please, Ron.”

He shook his head in disbelief but did as she asked.

He hovered over her careful not to crush her with his full body weight.

“Tell, me what I want to hear,” he demanded.

“Ron, I don’t know what you want me to say-

“Yes, you do,” he insisted.

“Ron, please! I want you,” she begged, but Ron shook his head no.

“Not until you say it.”

She could feel him between her legs, his hardness pressing on her but refusing to enter. He was watching her intently, willing her to understand.

“Ron, I love you,” she said with conviction, and he thrust into her making her cry out in surprise.

Hermione grabbed his face and brought it down for a kiss as he set a rhythm.

Without warning she pushed him hard on his shoulders and he rolled onto his back.

“Oh fuck, Hermione!”

Hermione quickly picked up the pace Ron had set until he was unable to form a coherent sentence and a steady stream of curse words left his mouth. She felt herself falling over the edge.

Then suddenly a flood of familiar images rushed into her head and the dam broke. Waves of pleasure washed over her and she convulsed hard around Ron. He followed her letting out a loud groan, his whole body tensing. She collapsed spent on top of him listening to his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Wow,” she managed when her breathing slowed down.

“Yeah.”

Ron was lazily drawing circles on her back. “That was more intense than last night.”

“I know. I remember now,” she mumbled sleepily.

“It worked?”

Hermione sat up to nod at him. “And we didn’t even have to do it exactly the same.”

“Yeah you went rogue on me there at the end,” he grinned at her.

“What can I say? I’ve been waiting a long time for that.”

Ron quickly flipped her over. “Wanna make some more memories?”

Hermione laughed. “Sure do.”