#omg another starter for you. hi.

[surviveds]

@doomdays: don’t take this the wrong way, but are you in the middle of a full-on spiral? (sammy + baby)

he's accustomed to doubt, concerns over his capabilities - it was his age when doc first employed him, but when that was no longer viable, it was his glasses, his music, his lack of speech. he's endured the dubious glares and overt hostilities, slurs and disparaging remarks, some genuine, most merely an attempt to elicit some sort of reaction - which baby never gives. partly because it's so familiar at this point, the same routine played out a dozen times, but mostly because he'd learned fairly quickly that any response from him only worsens the situation - and the silence is comfortable, after all.

and for the most part, he's been much the same on this job, despite how dissimilar it is what he's come to expect. not that the drive had been particularly challenging; an amateur could've gotten them here. it makes baby wonder why, exactly, doc had insisted he do the job, when it'd involve so much waiting - but he's in no position to question. he does what he's told; it's a common refrain when doc's met with resistance from the crew of the week; and he doesn't ask questions.

but not asking them doesn't mean he doesn't have them, and a prominent one currently is what he must look like for her to ask that. there's an undeniable nervousness droning inside him, the rapid tapping of his foot uncharacteristically out of sync from the music blaring in his ears, and through his dark glasses, baby peers upward at her; the creases in his forehead smooth out as he shakes his head, uncertain at first, then, with slightly more confidence. he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, hoping to appear more relaxed - the calm under pressure man that doc's trained him to be. "'m just, uh, not real good at waiting." he doesn't need to look at his watch to know it's only been an hour since frank's man left them here; he can count by the songs that have played since. "-not for long periods of time, anyways. usually it's just, you know, a couple minutes behind the wheel."

[ssahotchnerr]

omg could you maybe write something about reader going to one of jacks soccer games and all of the moms are jealous of her bc she’s with hotch

not so friendly competition

omg i absolutely can cw; fem!reader, jealous suburban moms, one tries to make a pass at aaron, established relationship, small angst?, pettiness, aaron being adorable <3 wc; 1.3k

from the moment you arrived - a hand clasped in aaron's, jack excitedly sprinting ahead the two of you - you could feel the target on your back.

the warm, refreshing morning suddenly felt quite stuffy. as if strangely enough, there wasn't enough air to go around. the feeling especially solidified when aaron gave you a sweet, parting kiss - him off to uphold his coaching duties, you off to find a spot on the grass to set up your chair.

you half expected it, the feeling out of place and self consciousness; this was jack's second season playing soccer, aaron's second season coaching, and most of the players had returned from last year. long story short, and entering a relationship with aaron only a few weeks after jack's season had concluded, you were the new face.

not only that, you were missing a common trait amongst the others. you weren't, by definition, jack's mom.

it was a silly, technical notion, and it was quite possible you weren't the only outlier, but you simply wanted to belong there just as much as the others. to feel as if you belonged.

and that's definitely not how you currently felt.

despite your perception - hoping you had falsely and quickly misjudged the atmosphere - you offered the moms a smile and a hello as you got settled. you got maybe one, two responses in return, before they resumed their ongoing conversation without you. any hopefulness that remained, deflated as you sat there silently.

and while you weren't exactly listening to them, you could still make out bits and pieces of their conversation. however, your ears fully perked up at the mention of aaron. which also brought you into the discussion.

"you're with the coach?"

her question wasn't based on genuine interest, a getting-to-know-type basis, a friendly conversation starter. but, it was rather accusatory, as if you'd done something detrimentally wrong.

you nodded, your eyebrows furrowing briefly in confusion. "yes?"

"like... with him?"

oh.

the standoffish environment wasn't due to you being unwelcome, or, at least not in the way you had previously anticipated. it was jealousy, plain jealousy. they must've spent all of last season ogling aaron, and here you were, getting in the way.

again, you nodded in confirmation. a few grimaces were produced amongst several faces, igniting something deep within you, suddenly feeling very protective of aaron and your relationship.

you casually shot back, relentlessly, "why, is that a problem?"

the mom shrugged, pulling her eyes from yours annoyingly, as if you'd done her an injustice.

she didn't stop there though, uttering something under her breath. while you didn't hear what it was exactly - the low tone definitely indicated she had just insulted you in one way or another.

and choosing to remain on the civil side, you held your tongue.

the whispers continued sparingly; as much as it stung, and as much as the red-hot feeling that had settled in your body was uncomfortable, why should you let it affect you? they weren't a threat, they were suburban moms - probably peaked in high school, probably relied off their husband's salary, probably thought they were better than each and every person they came across.

you could be annoyed, but you weren't worried. the bigger picture, you had what they wanted; you had aaron. you've already won, despite any fights they attempted to pick.

"i need to stretch my legs." the same woman abruptly said, loudly to gain your interest.

she promptly rose, walking towards the team's bench. or more specifically, right up to aaron.

she was quick to strike up a conversation with him - overdramatizing her already-shrill laugh, displaying open body language, the sweetest smile she could muster up.

what did you in, a 'friendly' touch to his arm before she retreated, whenever she finished saying whatever the hell was so important she had felt the need to interrupt his coaching for.

and throughout such, aaron appeared as his typical friendly self as he engaged with her, as expected. although a look of confusion did flash across his face when she graced his arm.

your jaw clenched in anger, but you kept reminding yourself: her actions were just to spite you, just to piss you off, and you refused to give her the reaction she seemingly so desperately craved.

so when she returned, with an awfully smug look plastered on her face and dropping into her chair with a sense of pure satisfaction, you kept your focus forward. you came to watch jack's game, and that's exactly what you were going to do.

but during the mid-game break, once aaron had finished talking with the kids and they sprinted back onto the field to practice some goals, did you approach him.

"hi sweetheart," aaron mumbled into your skin as he kissed your temple, one of his hands comfortably finding your back. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, offering him a timid smile.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing." you lied, tucking yourself into his chest. you took a deep breath and sighed, smelling the traces of light sweat and grass clinging to him.

"you don't think i buy that, do you?" he asked, a gentle, almost comical tone to his words - all to lighten up your present tension. "what is it?"

you shook your head, "i don't want to talk about it..." your eyes shot over to your new best friends, whose eyes were glued to the two of you. "here."

aaron glanced over at them, profiling immediately. "are they giving you a hard time?"

after a moment's hesitation, an annoyed huff escaped you. "let's just say they're not too happy that the coach is taken."

"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly, his face scrunching the smallest amount in confusion. "half of them are married."

"clearly that doesn't matter, they're still over there undressing you with their eyes." you arched an eyebrow, the scowl on your face only deepening.

"c'mon, you're too pretty to make that face." aaron lightly teased, kissing your pout gently. at the touch, your face did relax, the ends of your lips itching to turn upwards into a smile.

"oh they're gonna hate that you did that."

aaron shrugged, kissing you again. "let them."

you surrendered yourself to your smile, but you still frustratedly crossed your arms in front of your chest. "it's ridiculous."

aaron was quick to untangle your hands, holding onto them and applying a gentle squeeze. "you know you don't have competition. you have me."

"i know. that's why i feel so stupid i'm letting it bother me." you gritted through your teeth. "what did that one woman even say to you?"

"truthfully, i couldn't tell you. i wasn't paying attention." he answered honestly, his eyebrows drawing into a line as he even attempted to mentally recall it.

you couldn't help but laugh, pressing yourself more into him. "you're insufferable."

"i try." aaron joked, but his expression switched tactics, to genuine concern as he moved in front of you, "in all seriousness, are you going to be okay?"

"yeah." you brought your hands to his chest, running your thumbs against his pecs affectionately. you already were. "i have you, don't i?"

"and you could always stay here with me." aaron playfully, but earnestly offered. "and be my beautiful, thoughtful, astounding, beautiful assistant coach."

"you drive a hard bargain," your eyebrows rose, feeling his chuckle underneath your fingers. "but it's okay. i'm not gonna let them think they're running the show, or that they can step on me like that." you shook your head. "and as needed, i might have to flaunt you around."

aaron grinned, proudly. "that's my girl."

[yoyomomiko]

*Gasps for air*

D-Daisuke eating out f!reader… headcanons… please…

*Dies*

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: nsfw (mdni!), oral (reader receiving), face-sitting, overstim, edging, praising kink, hair pulling, cursing, marking.

(A/N): I cannot write smut for the love of my life UGH it's so embarrassing😭 This is so bad and short😣 -> m.list

credits: @anitalenia (for mdni divider)

So for starters

We all know Daisuke's lowkey a switch leaning towards bottom...

But the moment he's in between your legs, face planted into your cunt, there's NO escape unless you force his head away.

He's grabbing at your hips and waist, leaving a trail of hickeys on your inner thighs (like I mentioned in my other posts, he's big on marking), all while he's whining

Pull on his hair and you'll lay there dor hours

OMG OMG IMAGINE HE TIES HIS HAIR UP SO HE CAN PLEASURE YOU BETTER UGH

He probably keeps a hair band on his wrist at all times in case of emergency if ykwim👅

Probably accidentally overstimulates you😔

He's just doing so good, maybe too good. You praised him so much when he started, but now all you can do is gasp and whimper. It was too much, and another strong release was building up. You pulled on his hair to push him away from your cunt, he thought he made a mistake but once you told him why you tugged his head back he's grinning ear to ear🫦

Ugh he's just such a sucker for it, loves to be buried in between your thighs

SIT ON HIS FACE

He prefers you hovering above him😋

He's not too experienced with it, a bit sloppy too, and he's clearly not a fast learner, BUT, he'll start remembering your most sensitive spots over time

Alright we already know that Daisuke has a praising and hair pulling kink.

He loves it so much when you tug on his hair, pushing his head further.

I feel like once his head band broke so you kept his hair away from his face, because you like helping him😊

He gets so pussy drunk it's not even a joke at this point💔

Okay but I feel like even tho Daisuke is usually all whiny, he CAN be a tease.

Might even edge you who knows🤷‍♀️

"Not yet..."

AND HE'S PULLING AWAY FROM YOU SO YOU SHOVE HIM RIGHT BACK INTO YOUR CORE😠

Who does he think he is🙄

Anyways

CALL HIM A GOOD BOY

Tell him how good he's doing, otherwise he might feel a bit down thinking he's not making you feel good

If you're like, shy or just don't make any noises, he's gonna think it's HIS fault and he might even ask you about it, just to make sure and all that😔

Overall, he prefers giving rather than receiving 💯

★yoyomiko ★miko

[rafesangelita]

for latina!kook!reader can you write her being new to the island and rafe always hears people talk about the new girl and he dosent think anything of it until he actually sees her and she’s this latina goddess and rafe swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman and he instantly knows he has to have her?please and thank you i love your fics!!💘💘

also maybe this is kind of inspired by the song “sensacion del bloque” so maybe you can base it off that song🙈

only if you want of course!! no pressure<3

warnings: stalker!rafe (lol), spanish wording but it’s translated!

a/n: i was obsessed with this song when i was little omg!! i’m so happy you love my fics anon <333

“what’s all the fuss about this new girl on the island?” rafe took a swig from his beer, drawing both topper and kelce’s attention almost immediately. “for starters, she’s like insanely pretty,” kelce started, “i don’t know her name, but she’s already running around figure eight with the socialites.” he raised his eyebrows as topper butted in. “i heard she speaks spanish,” he added, “where do you think she’s from?” topper and kelce started throwing out names of different countries while rafe started forming his own thoughts.

people moved to and from the island all the time, so while rafe didn’t think much of the whole ‘new girl’ thing, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that had literally everyone talking. all he knew was that you were attractive and could speak another language. he heard some guys at the country club raving about you the day before, and now his friends. was it the way you dressed? your hair? the way you walked? he needed to find out now.

“do you know where i could find her?” rafe interrupted kelce and topper mid argument. “uhm.. i don’t know? remember that house for sale right there by the shore? i think that’s the one she moved into.” topper looked confused as rafe stood up. “where are you going?” he followed him outside. “i have to see what the hype is about, man.” rafe was already in his truck before topper yelled out a ‘can i go too?!’

rafe felt like a stalker going over to your house. he wasn’t going to get off or anything.. he just parked across the street and staked the place out as if he was playing detective. apart of him felt ridiculous for doing this in the first place. here he was, waiting to just catch a glimpse of you. “what the fuck am i doing?” he cursed to himself. just as he was about to turn the engine back on, you emerged from the front door.

“te estaré esperando en el frente— i’ll be waiting for you in the front.” you chirped into your phone. rafe heard you before he saw you, the sight stealing all the breath from his lungs. you were dressed up in a tight, embellished, mini dress, your hair and makeup done to the gods while your butterfly heels sparkled under the setting sun. your beauty was otherworldly, and rafe couldn’t take his eyes off.

rafe was always the one to denounce something as ‘overhyped’ but he felt like the entire island talking about and praising you just wasn’t enough. you needed your own billboard. oblivious to the fact that you had looked up at him from your spot in the driveway, he closed his mouth as you smiled at him, your perfectly manicured fingers sending him a flirty wave. that was the cherry on top. rafe had gotten down and was about to approach you before a car full of girls drove up.

you walked down the pavement, the purse on your shoulder swaying with your hips as you looked up at him. “tal vez la próxima vez— maybe next time.” you laughed, getting in the car before he watched you disappear at the end of street.

[w2soneshots]

Brother’s best mate -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol consumption.

summary: you and harry meet through your brother ethan. After a night spent with the side girls you crawl into bed with your favourite guernsey boy.

notes: I haven’t written anything like this in ages!🤭 hope you enjoy🔥🫶🏼

Liked by wroetoshaw and 301,583 others

y/username: spending time with my favourite people💞 (even if it's on a golf course😒😂)

Tagged: @faithloisak @behzingagram @wroetoshaw

-comments-

faithloisak: aw I love you

-> y/username: ❤️🫶

y/nfanpage21: she's so 🌼🧺☕️🧘‍♀️🥐 coded

user19470245: omg they went to golf together😭

user83271430: the pic of ethan and faith is adorable

Last year I moved to London to be closer to Ethan when Faith fell pregnant, to help her and to spend more time with the both of them. I also bought an apartment so I'm just a 20 minute drive from them. I finally met the sidemen at the gender reveal. I'd never actually been introduced to them before, which was weird because they are basically the reason Ethan has a career and they helped him so much a few years ago when he was in a really dark place. Me and Harry didn't immediately hit it off, don't get me wrong I thought he was attractive but he's also very awkward and was wary that I'm his best mates sister.

After almost five months of being friends with the group, going to little parties or just hanging out with them me and Harry kissed. I knew it was bound to happen since we had both quickly developed a large crush on each other but after it had happened we'd decided not to tell anyone (especially Ethan) before we knew we were actually good together. It took just one month before we were officially dating and decided it was the time to tell everyone. Of course we told Ethan first, he was shocked but (to our surprise) happy that his best mate and sister were dating. Everyone else was so excited.

We've now been together for 6 months and only told the fans recently. Today I'm going to dinner with: Talia, Faith and Freya for Talia's birthday. Harry had a more sidemen shoot today so wouldn't get home until six. I had a shower, dried and styled my hair, applied some makeup then chose an outfit. I was on my way out just as Harry arrived back. "Wow," He glanced down at my outfit before returning his attention to my face "you look beautiful." I smiled "thank you Haz, I'll be home by ten." "You better be, I can't wait to rip those clothes off."

I arrived outside of the restaurant, thanked the uber driver then spotted Talia getting out of another car. I quickly walked towards her "happy birthday!" We excitedly hugged each other. "Thank you! Freya's already inside." She beamed. "Ok. I think Faith's running a little bit late, let's just go inside." I replied. We headed into the fancy restaurant and were taken to our table where Freya already sat. When she spotted us she immediately leapt from her seat. She said happy birthday to Talia then we all sat down. Faith arrived a few minutes later and we ordered our drinks.

After eating our starters, mains and desserts me Freya and Faith split the bill (not before trying to convince Talia to let us treat her for her birthday). Thankfully I had only had two drinks so I was just a little tipsy. We left then ordered a taxi. Freya was dropped off first then Talia and I was third. I said goodbye to Faith then hopped out.

y/username

Liked by miniminter and 480,231 others

y/username: my girl @taliamar 's birthday dinner with @freyanightingale and @faithloisak 🤍💫

-comments-

taliamar: I had the best night ily😘

-> y/username: ily

freyanightingale: 💓💓

y/nfanpage21: omg you look stunning!!

user91037494: I love that the side girls are actually friends irl it's so cute

When I got up to mine and Harry's apartment I unlocked the door, opened it, kicked my shoes off and dropped my bag. "Haz?!" I shouted through the apartment. I walked through into the bedroom, Harry sat waiting patiently for me "Hey." My mouth curved into a smile "hi." I jumped onto the bed next to him. "Have fun?" He asked. "Mhm" I hummed.

I turned to him and pecked his lips. The kiss deepened, he grabbed the back of my thighs and pulled me onto his lap. I reached my hands down to the belt wrapped around my waist, I pulled it off and threw it to the floor. I moved Harry's hands from the back of my thighs to my ass. He groaned into the kiss then rushed to pull the zipper down on my dress, then he pulled it off and over my head, leaving me in just my matching black lace bra and underwear set. Harry broke the kiss to look down at me "you're so fucking beautiful." He rasped. I pulled his shirt over his head, followed by his pyjama pants. While Harry unclipped my bra, allowing the straps to fall from my shoulders.

Within just a few minutes we were both completely naked. Harry flipped me onto my back. I whimpered as I rubbed my thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. "Harry, please." I cried out. "What do you want baby? Use your words." "I need you to fuck me."

[mythicmanuscripts]

OMG I saw ur aegon x vampire reader post and the note below it. I seriously need a vampire Aemond x reader!!!

Ps: UR WRITING IS SO GOATED I BINGED READ ALL OF THEM😭

Aw thank you anon!!! So the previous vampire!Aemond ask I answered was about how the relationship with Aemond started and I think I now want to spend some time on the actual relationship itself?

Anyway, enjoy my random babble about vampire!Aemond and let me know if you lads have thoughts! This will be the last vampire!aemond ask I answer without much info, if you want more of this then just be sure to put some more info then just “vampire!aemond”

Anyway once again, subby vampire!aemond below the cut! There’s no real coherence in this answer I’m just babbling about this so get ready for chaos

So as we’ve established, vampire!aemond won’t drink from any other once he’s fed off you. He will not touch another’s blood, he’d rather starve.

Also, I love the idea that this marriage wasn’t actually arranged? Or maybe you do have an arranged marriage but it’s with someone else at the red keep and not Aemond and well… those plans have to change real quick because once Aemond gets a taste of you he’ll burn down the whole fucking kingdom if anyone tried to get with you.

Anyway, I think what’s most interesting about this whole idea is that Aemond would seem to be the one in charge with how he behaves but then the moment you speak he’s practically curling up at your feet. He’s SO protective over you, but he’s protective in the same way dog would be? He’s always with you, always standing just a little behind you and keeping a close eye on whoever you’re talking to, he’ll attack if he thinks someone might hurt you, but at the same time he’s just so… obedient? You speak and suddenly he’s looking at you like you hung the moon and all its stars and waiting for bated breath for what you will say to him.

He’s well aware that he needs you far more than you need him, and no matter how many times you try to tell him that’s not true it doesn’t matter he won’t be convinced otherwise. He knows he will never be entitled to your body, and so he will cherish every second you do give him.

Needless to say, he treats you SO well. It’s not just about the blood either, he just gets along so well with you and he loves being around you and even if you said he could never feed from you again, he’ll starve without complaint and only ask that he be allowed to spend his last days with you.

So yeah it’s definitely not just that feeds off you, but I also think that because he feeds from you there are some things he does to try and look after you as best he can.

For starters, you will NEVER go hungry. I like the idea that vampires don’t eat normal food, but he still hires a servant whose sole just is to feed you. Aemond always enjoys you’re getting enough of everything you need like iron and calcium and that you have a balanced diet. But it’s more than just that, he also pays very close attention to the foods you like and the foods that you don’t so that he can relay it back to the servant.

He’s also pedantic about ensuring you eat enough and at regular intervals. It’s usually very rare for a vampire to only feed off of one person because one person losing a reasonable amount of blood regularly can cause fatigue and iron deficiencies and so much more.

He knows exactly how lucky he is to have found you and so he will not allow his feeding to cause any negative side effects for you. It’s not uncommon to be a big dinner or event of some kind and the servants serve you some foods high in iron and vitamin C that the other guests don’t. Of course you can also eat the normal food, but Aemond is very particular about ensuring there is always enough the beat possible food available for you to help with losing blood for him.

And lord help anyone who tries to mess with that, even if someone just asks to try something and you actually agree to it, he’ll still tell them off. Of course you don’t let him get away with this. You always turn to look at him and tell him to stop being so combative and to everyone’s shock he immediately nods and apologises because he hates seeing you unhappy with him.

I also think he gets VERY offended any time someone thinks he’s feeding form multiple people or offers to let him feed off them? Like I think maybe it would be quite common for neighbouring kingdoms to visit and bring their own people for blood supply and then as a sign of respect and trust, they’ll send one of their people to offer themselves to one of the vampires residing in the red keep.

More than once visitors have made the mistake of getting their people to offer a feed to Aemond. The first time they ask he just says no and ignored them. Then the second time he tells them to fuck off, and if they are come a third time then they’re getting kicked out.

It’s even worse if they try to make this offer when you’re there. You know Aemond will never do it and you don’t care how many people offer themselves to him, but Aemond sees them doing that as an insult to you? You’re sitting right there and they are to try to offer him another’s blood? Often you have to tell the poor human to scamper off before Aemond kills them.

And lastly, I wanna talk about Aemond after a feed? Well more specifically, Aemond after a bigger feed? He’ll drink from your neck for bigger feeds, and fuck once he’s had his full he’s almost blood drunk?

His head is all fuzzy and he’s so utterly satiated it’s like he can he can feel it in his bones. He’s so plaint then, will do whatever you say and often ends up more than a bit horny. You LOVE riding a blood drunk Aemond so much because he’s just completely blissed out the entire time, and when it’s finished he’ll just turn and hide in your arms, mumbling his thanks and promptly falling asleep.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 8

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

omg hi guys.............

i'm so sorry for leaving it this long, i just literally could not write anything, my brain was absolutely fogged up - probably because i had covid unknowingly lmao. this is another long chapter so i hope this makes up for it! <3

thank you for reading and for all your kind messages and support, i appreciate you all so much. i know i say this constantly but i really mean it. stay safe and keep healthy, guys!! love you :')

let's get this train on the ROAD!!!

The summer of '93 was an interesting feat, to say the least. Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and you'd found yourself dating someone you never thought you would.

You had not expected yourself to be caught up in a whirlwind type of romance, especially not by someone you'd despised back in school. Yet, here you were, arm in arm with none other than school menace, Benjamin Bluewater. The two of you were currently strolling through Hogsmeade, wide smiles spread across your rosy-cheeked, cold faces. The snow crunched beneath your feet as Ben wrapped an affectionate arm around your waist, pulling you close against him. You failed horribly at trying to hide the bashful smile that picked at the corners of your shivering lips.

"I'm gonna miss seeing you every other day." Ben said, giving you a squeeze.

"Yeah," you hummed happily, glancing up, "this summer has been very..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words. Ben glanced down at you, a lazy half-smile reaching his lips.

"Unexpected?" He chuckled, finishing your sentence for you.

A grin broke out on your face and Ben leant down to plant a soft kiss against your smiling mouth. "Definitely." You replied against his lips, nodding softly, letting your eyes fall back to the powdery-white trail in front of you as he pulled away. "You can visit me if it gets too hard." You teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. It'd only been a month and a bit of seeing Ben, but he really had you hooked. Each time you saw him, the agonising thought of you and Snape melted away from your mind a little bit more. You felt like you'd finally got control - he was no longer dictating how you felt. However, you did feel a tad bit guilty. At times it felt like you were using Ben to get over the broody Potions Master. You didn't dare tell him about it either, you were pretty sure that he wouldn't take it well - in fact, you were certain he wouldn't. How would he believe that you'd fallen for the man that used to cause the pair of you grief in school? For starters, he used to be your teacher all those years ago, and secondly, in Ben's mind, he considered Snape an ugly old git.

"I think you'll be the first to crack, Y/N." Ben nudged you back, prompting a playful scoff to fall from your mouth. Ben's lips broke into a grin, pleased with your reaction.

"As if," You choked. "Wait, who was it again that turned up at my door the day after our first date? Oh yeah, you." You scrunched your nose up at him and poked out your tongue, though, your attention was soon hooked by the flash of what looked like a figure dressed in all-black. Your breath caught in your throat as your head snapped to the left, eyes flicking desperately between the forest of pine trees, searching  for what you thought you had seen. Ben picked up on your change in behaviour almost immediately.

It couldn't be, you thought, heart suddenly beginning to race.

"You okay?" His bushy brows furrowed at your unusual skittish demeanour, clearly worried about you. Ben's alarmed voice did not compute in your head. "Hey," His hand slipped from your arm and fell to your wrist, tugging it at it to pull you from your thoughts, inducing a soft gasp from you as you spun on your heel to face Ben. It looked as if you had just seen a ghost of some sort.

"What?" You questioned softly, blinking. Ben stared at you.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost, Y/N." He said, concerned. You swallowed and wet your lips, looking down at the ground as he brushed his thumb tenderly against your wrist.

"I'm alright." You looked back up at Ben, placing a forced smile upon your lips. He didn't seem convinced, though he didn't press you. He gave you the benefit of the doubt. "Just, err, just a little on edge, you know with, erm, the whole Sirius Black thing." You lied, a nervous chuckle leaving your throat.

"I don't think the mass murderer known as Sirius Black would bother himself with a place such as Hogsmeade, Y/N." Ben smiled, almost amusedly at you. You stayed silent, not sure what to say. Ben let his blue eyes to flick between yours, almost like he was attempting to read your mind. You broke the connection and glanced away, an uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. Ben sighed gently and looked ahead of the two of you. The town of Hogsmeade was settled in the distance, shrouded in a cloudy mist. An idea popped in his mind. "Would a tea or a hot beverage of some sort make you feel a little better?"

"Um, yes, I could go for a tea." You nodded lightly, looking back to Ben. A small smile graced his features as he let his warm hand slip into yours. The corners of your lips tugged upwards a little. Ben felt at ease once more as your pretty face was lit up with that bright smile of yours. He couldn't resist placing another sweet kiss upon your lips.

"Alright. Let's go, I know just the place."

You laid on your bed in your quarters at Hogwarts, the pale sunlight peeking through your curtains was slowly ceasing as the evening began to set in. Your mind was constantly reeling back to yesterday afternoon. You continuously replayed the memory of the flash of black in your mind, attempting to put a name to what it was. A sigh of frustration left your lips, leading into a groan. You refused to acknowledge who you thought it was. There was just no way.

All those feelings and thoughts that you'd buried and hidden away with the idea of Ben started to creep back out of it's cage and it frightened you. Perhaps it was foolish of you to think that you'd move on so quickly. A month and a bit was definitely not enough time to heal. Yes, you were unquestionably foolish to think that forty-three days was a satisfactory amount of time to rid yourself of the thought of someone you had been near almost every day for a year.

Whatever, you thought. It'll pass. It will... won't it?

Gods, now you were doubting yourself. You knew you still felt deeply for Snape, of course you did, you spent almost a whole year in his presence, but you thought dating someone else in the meantime would have solved some of that. Jesus, that's messed up. Were you just using Ben to get over Snape? This was so wrong on so many levels. You liked Ben, truly you did, but you always found yourself comparing him to Severus. The way he spoke, the way he moved... your mind was plagued with him, and you were an idiot to think that locking away the thought of Severus would do anything but help yourself. You did this to yourself, and now you deserved to deal with the consequences. You just had to act like your feelings for him didn't exist, maybe that would help. …Maybe it wouldn't, but that was the best idea you had right now.

You needed to clear your head, and badly. Your buzzing thoughts were starting to drown you. You quickly slipped out of your bed and headed out of your room, quietly shutting the door behind you. Just as you were about to turn around to walk down the hallway, a tall, shabby looking man stood in your way. He had light brown hair with flecks of grey in it, a fluffy moustache and a rather painful looking scar was scraped across the middle of his handsome face.

"Oh- hello," You said in surprise, confusion evident in your tone. The man smiled at you jovially, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He looked rather tired and pale. You tilted your head at him, furrowing your brows.

"I apologise for scaring you," The man pursed his lips as he attempted a light-hearted joke, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm Remus, err, Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." He added, his eyebrows raising a tad.

"Oh, yes, of course!" You instantly smiled, your cheeks turning a little red out of embarrassment. Lupin found it rather endearing. You scolded yourself for forgetting soemthing so important - Dumbledore had mentioned this the day before you left for Summer break. "I'm so sorry, it had totally slipped my mind. My name is Y/N L/N," Your smile widened as you held out a friendly hand for him to shake. "I'm the professor of Herbology here at Hogwarts."

"Ah," He nodded, returning your smile and shaking your hand. His grip was firm. "Lovely to meet you. I hope we get along well, Professor L/N." Remus said trustingly, his hands returning to his pockets. You clasped yours together, resting them against your hips out of habit.

"I'm sure we will, and please, call me Y/N." You grinned. Remus gave you a curt nod. "Is this your first day here?"

"Teaching yes, but in regards to having been here before? No." He replied.

"Oh?"

"I attended Hogwarts as a small boy, so it's a little nostalgic walking round the place again." Remus explained, earning a surprised look from you.

"It seems as though every single teacher here also used to be a student here." You laughed lightly, inducing an amused smile from the new professor.

"It seems that way, yes." Remus nodded.

"Well, I hope to see you around, Remus." You smiled politely at him, noticing the way he slumped slightly in posture, almost like he was trying to hide himself. Remus returned your smile and dismissed you with a nod, continuing past you with a slow gait. You let yourself think for a moment. Those scars looked pretty horrific, they looked rather... deep. A grimace twisted your facial features as your mind raced with quite gruesome and morbid theories on how Lupin had acquired those wounds. You shook your head rather vigorously as if to relieve your mind of the grisly images that were popping in and out of it.

The hallways and corridors of Hogwarts were peacefully empty once again. Students, old and new, were still back at home preparing for the next school year that began in just a couple days. Goosebumps erupted on your body out of anticipation as you thought about what the year could hold - though, you were mainly excited to get back to teaching your beloved subject. In fact, you'd missed it a lot over the summer. More than you expected to, despite the distraction called Ben.

A tiny smile flickered on your lips at the thought of him, your eyes glued to the floor in front of you as your feet carried you forwards, a cool chill wrapping itself around your bare shoulders. You were wearing a thick-ish, buttercup-yellow night dress; the sleeves reached your wrists, but it was a little baggy up top, causing the wide neckline to slip partially off your shoulder. The chill made you quickly pull it up with your fingers, enveloping yourself with your arms.

Bumping into Professor Lupin outside your room had caught you off-guard. The thought of grabbing a coat of some sort had slipped from your mind the second your curious and confused eyes fell onto him. You shivered slightly, cursing yourself for being so forgetful sometimes. It might have been late August, but Scotland's freezing climate left no survivors.

"Did you not think it unwise to go around strolling in such... poorly thought out attire, Professor L/N? It is almost as cold as the arctic." That deep voice that had caused you so much grief and heartache shot through your head like a stray bullet. You froze in your position, your breath hitching as you refused to turn around to acknowledge the man that spoke with such articulated words it seemed laughable. You felt like you couldn't move. Like you were in a glue trap, like a little mouse.

Eventually, you thawed. "I'm not cold." You replied shortly, reluctantly turning around to face Snape. Your heart instantly sped into a gallop as your eyes fell onto his tall, brooding figure. Then and there, thought of Ben entered your mind as you stared at the Potions Master, immediately comparing the two. You knew Ben didn't make your heart race like he did. Your shoulders suddenly slumped with guilt. You shouldn't be thinking any of this. Ben was good for you, he treated you with kindness and respect, and most of all, he actually liked you.

"Your trembling figure says otherwise." Snape tilted his head at you, scrutinising you. Right then you wanted to shrink down into nothingness. You couldn't bear to feel so vulnerable underneath his eyes. Somehow, Snape looked better than the last time you saw him. And you hated that. You were sure you looked utterly terrible right now.

"I'm fine." You said sternly, dragging out the syllables as you fought back the bitter glare that was itching to break out onto your face.

"Fine, hm..." Snape drawled, almost mocking and sarcastic, letting his dark eyes drop down your figure, studying your improper outfit. You hugged yourself tighter at the sight, cheeks suddenly burning as you felt rather self-conscious. His brows knitted together suddenly, like something had just clicked in his mind. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

You hesitated. "I forgot to grab one." Snape's brow arched at you disapprovingly. You fought the urge to groan at him. "I bumped into the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, outside my door." You explained, tone flat. "It's not like you care whether I freeze to death or not anyway." You added, rather bitterly. Snape narrowed his eyes at you, glaring. He did care, but he would never show it. Not right now, at least.

"Lupin?" He repeated, ignoring your last comment as his jaw ticked out of irritation. You frowned at his odd reaction. "I suggest you stay away from him, Professor L/N. For your own..." Snape trailed off, pondering on his words as he let his eyes sweep over you in a patronising manner. "...good." He uttered, almost like a warning. You were completely and utterly confused. Why did Snape seem so unwelcoming towards Lupin, he'd just joined Hogwarts, unless there was... history between them? Was there?

"What's wrong with Remus?" You asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity and suspicion about his feelings regarding the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape's jaw clenched at the sound of Lupin's first name, almost like he flinched. "He seemed perfectly kind and pleasant earlier."

Snape didn't reply. A harsh, exasperated sigh fell through your nose as you rolled your eyes at the enigmatic man before you, growing tired of his games. Why did he always act so cryptic? What was the problem with telling you the truth? Would it be so bad?

Before you could protest and poke at his mind, Snape began to stalk away from you, prompting a curt scoff to leave your lips. Your teeth were gritted out of frustration as you stared at the back of his head. Christ, he really hadn't changed - he was still pissing you off at an almighty rate. At this point, it was impressive.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, forcing Snape to halt in his tracks. He turned his head to the left, silently encouraging you to continue. "Would you just answer me?"

"I don't owe you anything." Snape said rather coldly. You clenched your jaw rather angrily at his rude reply. Jesus, will this guy ever just bite the bullet for once and give in?

"When you tell me to 'avoid' Professor Lupin, I think that demands an explanation as to why I should, Snape," You said, shaking your head at him like he was daft. "You must be delusional to think otherwise!" That must have struck a nerve within the Potions Master, as he swiftly spun around, his cloak turning with him dramatically like a bat, making you shrink in regret. He stormed over to you, footsteps heavy and determined. You backed yourself up, a little unnerved by his sudden and intense approach towards you. Snape got right up in your face and you could feel his hot breath dance across your skin, sending anxious goosebumps down your spine. It felt like your heart was about to fall out of your chest from the high gear it had suddenly kicked into. 

How could- no, why was your body still reacting so fiercely to Snape? Weren't you meant to be focusing on Ben?

"Lupin is not who you think he is, Y/N." Snape warned, snapping you out of your thoughts. It nearly sounded like there was a hint of concern in his voice, like he was worried about you. You had to laugh at that, as if Snape - the man who had pretended like you didn't exist for half a year - cared for you. He'd never stoop to such a pathetic ideal. You brushed the hurtful lie under a dusty rug in your mind, averting your attention back to the pair of deep, obsidian-coloured eyes that sat mere inches away from your own.

"And how do you know that?" You challenged, a hint of venom in your voice as you mocked his serious tone. Snape sneered at you, leaning back from your face, like he was disgusted.

"Your ignorance is blinding." He replied bitterly, still refusing to explain anything to you. At this point he seemed like a child to you. From his the way he glared at you, and reeled back from your agitated little form, Snape seemed to be disappointed in you. You didn't think he had a leg to stand on with that idea.

And so, that was your last straw, you couldn't hold in your frustration anymore; it felt like all the pressure that had been building up beneath your skin was coming to a rise and it had finally burst at the seams. "Jesus, Snape!" You cried out, infuriated, your hands flying up to pull helplessly at your hair. "Why is it so hard for you to answer me?! Are you so incapable of that?!"

Snape seemed a little taken aback by your outburst as the ill feeling of deja vu began to seep into his bones. This felt a little too familiar: it reminded him of that night he found you drunk. Yet, right now, you were stone-cold sober, and still shouting the same things at him. In regards to your outburst, he truly hadn't seen it coming, and yet, he was almost always aware of how you were feeling. He could read you so easily. To him, you were like a book he'd read almost a thousand times. He remained quiet again, unsure of how to reply to your instantaneous combustion; a briefly-lived feeling of worry that he'd add more fuel to the fire.

He couldn't reveal the reason to you. He'd given Dumbledore his word that he would not speak of Lupin's condition. In fact, Snape had doubted Dumbledore's usually-wise judgement when he mentioned that he'd hired Lupin. The Potions Master thought the Headmaster had gone mad for openly inviting a werewolf into Hogwarts, let alone allowing him to teach classes full of children. And then, he'd found himself roped into producing the Wolfsbane potion so Lupin could keep his wretched condition of Lycanthropy at bay. Snape still doubted the whole idea. He knew it was doomed from the very beginning. Balancing the safety of Hogwarts on the constant, perfect production of a potion and the hope that Lupin was competent enough to remember to take it each day of the preceding week of a full moon?

Doomed, Snape thought.

Despite your best efforts of attempting to force the answer out of Snape, he knew you'd figure it out sooner or later once you noticed which ingredients he'd be borrowing from you. He had faith that you were smart enough to work it out. So, he stood straighter in front of you, wordlessly giving you his answer as he turned around to walk away from you.

No.

"A warm, warm welcome back to you all!" Dumbledore's raspy voice boomed through the Great Hall, the applause from students and staff alike to quickly quietening down. You were seated comfortably between McGonagall and Hagrid, and it felt awfully similar to last year. Just a year ago, you had no idea what you were strapping yourself in for. "Before we indulge ourselves in this delectable feast, I'd like to welcome Professor RJ Lupin, who will be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said, turning around to gesture to Lupin with eccentric, wrinkly hands. The professor stood up goofily with anxiously-clasped hands, giving a grateful nod to the Hall as they applauded him. He caught your eye, and you sent him an encouraging smile, ignoring Snape's distasteful face beside Lupin.

"Good luck, professor! Now, our teacher for the Care of Magical Creatures for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken than none other than our own, Rubeus Hagrid!" The Headmaster announced as he spun around to gesture to the half-man-half-giant sat happily beside you, a genial smile spreading across the Dumbledore's face. Applause and whoops erupted in the Hall once more as Hagrid gave a short nod and a cheerful smile to the hooting crowd. You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, prompting him to stand up, his large belly shoving the table forwards with a sharp screech; a handful of glass goblets falling over and smashing. McGonagall looked up at the newly-appointed professor rather disappointedly before eyes her goblet that now laid shattered before her.

"Finally, on a more describing note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the dementors of Azkaban, until such a time Sirius Black is captured." Dumbledore said, a stern and serious tone taking place of his usual reserved one. Gods, how could you have forgotten? Mass murderer Sirius Black was still on the loose. Apparently the thought of Snape was enough to distract you from a highly important news article. And now, one of the most feared creatures of the Wizarding World was going to be lingering around Hogwarts? This was not what you signed up for. Your teeth started to chew against the inside of your bottom lip anxiously.

"Will they be on the school grounds?" You whispered to Minerva beside you, failing miserably at trying to hide the shaky fear within your voice. She instantly looked at you, smiling softly. You'd always had a phobia of dementors, and now the fact that they were going to be lurking around the school had put you on edge. Merlin, can this year get any worse?

"I'm not sure, my dear." Minerva replied to you quietly, subtly noticing the fear swimming in your eyes. The older witch placed a hand upon yours in an attempt to soothe your anxiety. "There's nothing to worry about, I assure you." You merely nodded at her, unbelieving. Nothing to worry about, sure. It's not like some savage, minacious murderer is on the loose.

"The dementors willl be stationed at every entrance to the grounds." There goes your sanity. "Now, whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities, a word of caution: dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt, and the one who gets in their way." You hated the way that Dumbledore spoke of the dementors, and it hardly settled your trembling and anxious mind. No, in fact, it bloody well worsened it. The old man was basically saying if you get in their way, it's a death sentence. They have no sense to decide whether you're a threat or not, or they just don't care.

Either way, you were screwed. You could not produce a Patronus charm, let alone a corporeal one, and it was something that played on your mind a lot. You could never find the right memory to do so. Every happy memory you flicked through in your mind, it just wasn't happy enough. So, if you came into contact with a dementor, you were, let's say, royally fucked. Was your life that sad?

"Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you, give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. But, you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light." The Headmaster finished with a cryptic riddle, making you sigh a little heavier than expected, catching an intrigued look from Hagrid. Sorry, but what the fuck does that even mean, Dumbledore? You were well aware that Dumbledore was undoubtedly an ingenious and powerful wizard, but sometimes, the things that came out of his mouth just sounded like nonsense. Maybe he just said those random things to keep up his mysterious act.

As you looked up from the nervous, fidgeting fingers in your lap, your eyes locked with that same pair of black, emotionless ones that were staring so deeply into yours just last night. Immediately, you looked away, your cheeks flushing red out of embarrassment, and perhaps, suppressed affection. There was that weighty feeling of guilt again, finding your shoulders once more. Ben's smiling face materialised in your mind as you shut your eyes, attempting to rid yourself of the buzzing feeling that Snape had awakened within you. With just one look into his eyes, you were melting back into your old ways.

You heard the creaking of a chair shift beside you as a gentle mass poked your side. "A'right down there?" Hagrid questioned quietly, noticing your subtle change in demeanour. You were suddenly stiff in your seat.

"Yeah, yeah, fine thanks, Hagrid." You cleared your throat, avoiding those two addicting pools of inky-black.

"Hmm." Hagrid hummed beside you, obviously skeptical about your curt response. He let his eyes flick to where you were previously looking, his stomach sinking as he spotted the broody cause of your sudden mood change. Hagrid didn't bother pressing you for answers, he knew you had enough on your plate, and he would rather you come to him. The last time you spoke about your problems regarding Snape, you were in tears, or you would burst into tears, there wasn't really an inbetween.

Silently, you were thankful that the newly-appointed professor beside you chose to keep shtum.

As you glanced back to where Snape sat, he was completely avoiding your eyes too, however, as you continued looking over in his direction, the wave of a hand beside the Potions Master caught your eye. Flicking your gaze to the right, you noticed it was Lupin waving sheepishly at you, a kind smile tugging at his scarred lips. You returned his smile and waved back, turning to the professors beside you as he glanced away from you.

"Professor Lupin seems to be a kind soul." You commented outloud, a genial smile upon your lips. McGonagall glanced at you, eyeing your curiously.

"Yes," She agreed slowly, her eyes gently dissecting you. "Have you met before?"

"No, I just bumped into him a couple nights ago, by my door."

"Yer' door?" Hagrid repeated in an octave higher than usual, intrigued.

"He just happened to be there when I walked out." You frowned, wide eyes looking up at the gigantic man, trying to understand what he was insinuating.

"Right, right." Hagrid quickly said, almost awkwardly as his cheeks reddened a tad, averting his eyes from your suspicious ones. Minerva's lips quirked into a small, amused smirk as she glanced between you and Hagrid. "Well, this food looks delicious, ay?" He cleared his throat, raising his brows as he glanced down at your plates that were now burdened with a generous amount of steaming hot meat and vegetables. You couldn't help but laugh softly to yourself at Hagrid's awkwardness. It was sweet to you.

Before you let yourself indulge in the plate full of food in front of you, you dared to look in the direction of a certain gloomy individual. Snape had already begun to eat, which surprised you. He usually takes a few bites and retires to his office, but this time, he'd stayed. You frowned to yourself as you stared at him, observing the glum way he kept to himself, avoiding any kind of conversation. Once more, you found yourself yearning for him. And yet again, your heart and mind were telling you two different things.

"Isn't that a Mimbulus Mimbletonia plant, professor?" Came Neville Longbottom's curious voice, his inquisitive eyes dragging over the plant you held cautiously in your arms. A cheery smile graced your lips as you nodded at the boy.

"Yes, indeed it is, Mr Longbottom." You said proudly, inducing a thrilled smile from Neville. "Can anyone tell me what it's uses are?" You asked, glancing around your greenhouse at mostly confused faces. You had an inkling that none of them would know the answer, perhaps apart from Hermione or Neville, who you noticed seemed to excel in Herbology. Though, Hermione wasn't in your class this morning. So to you, it was all down to Neville.

"Stinksap, right?" Neville answered quickly, his bunny-like teeth sticking out from underneath his top lip as he stared at you, awaiting your reply.

"Correct, and what can we use stinksap for?" You questioned, your smile widening at Neville. A sense of accomplishment suddenly tickled your body - maybe your students were listening to you and learning. You were a little worried that you hadn't exactly made an impact on them. As you got lost in your fretting thoughts, a light voice you weren't familiar with caught your attention. You turned towards the dark-haired girl, her deep blue eyes lighting up with confidence as she retrieved you from the abyss that you unfortunately called your mind.

"Stinksap can be used in certain potions as it contains very good healing properties," Alisa Arumina spoke up, earning a tilt of your head. You nodded at her, encouraging the girl to continue. "However, you have to be extra cautious when handling such a plant as this one since it will squirt out rather rancid smelling sap. Hence the name, stinksap." She finished, a sheepish smile upon her lips. You grinned proudly at her.

"Yes, lovely! Ten points to Ravenclaw, Miss Arumina." You carefully placed the plant down upon the table you were all gathered around. Before you could continue on to explain how to care for it, a distraught sounding voice called from behind you, at the door to your greenhouse.

"Professor L/N," Madam Pomfrey called out, her voice shaky. Immediately, you spun around with a worried frown upon your face. She sighed. "There's been an accident, do you have any mature Mandrakes ready for use? A Wiggenweld potion is required at once." Madam Pomfrey's eyes looked afraid. This must be serious, what the hell happened? You thought as your heart began to anxiously pick up in pace.

"Err," You stumbled over your words, blinking quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll have them delivered to you immediately." You nodded in a poor attempt to assure the terrified look upon Madam Pomfrey's face. It didn't work.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape has asked for you to go to him right away." She said regretfully. Of course he fucking did, you groaned inwardly. 

"Is it so hard for you to come and retrieve the Mandrakes yourself?" You demanded as you burst through Snape's classroom door, your irked eyes finding Snape's startled ones. Though, just as quickly as he had looked startled by your sudden entry to his room, he had returned back to his usual angry glare, shooting it directly at you.

"Is it so hard for you to knock before entering?" Snape grunted at you, rubbing his fingers in circles against his temples. He lifted a hand and patted the empty space on his desk beside him. "Place the mandrakes here." You scrunched up your nose at him in disgust,

"I'll put them there once you tell me what the hell is going on."

"Your dear friend, Professor Rubeus Hagrid, thought it wise to introduce the children to a hippogriff on their first lesson together." Snape sneered as he rose from his desk in a slow and intimidating manner, his hands splayed out across the deeply grooved, dark wood surface. "I knew he was an oaf, but I at least thought he had retained some form ofhuman intelligence. Perhaps even common sense!" He exclaimed, his brows glued together in fury. Your brows mirrored his own as he insulted your friend. "A student was injured, Professor L/N, a student of my house." Ah, so that's why he's so upset. "Draco Malfoy." Riiight, it's adding up now, you thought, your anger simmering down slightly at the utterance of a student being injured.

You knew Hagrid wasn't incompetent, he was smart enough to not put students in the way of danger, but maybe this was a very big mistake. Perhaps he was too... eager. A hippogriff is a highly dangerous animal, especially if the students are not taught how to approach one beforehand. A strained sigh left your nostrils as you clenched your jaw, averting your eyes from a fuming Snape.

"Is he alright?" You asked, hesitating. "Hopefully he didn't lose a limb..." You muttered whilst perching yourself down upon a stool to your right.

"By the grace of the gods, Malfoy's arm was merely scratched," Snape seethed, clearly still very angry. Maybe it'd be best if you just left now, you did leave your class unsupervised for this visit. The thought of being a hypocrite niggled at your mind as you thought back to the time you'd chastised Lockhart for doing the same thing. But, this wasn't the same thing right? This was urgent, his was... whatever, you're better than that babbling, bumbling baboon anyway.

"So, it wasn't even a big injury...?" You repeated, frowning. "A little... scratch and you're almost losing your hair over it?"

"I think you're missing the point, Professor L/N, as always," Snape scoffed at you, earning a resentful glare from your eyes. "Hagrid has proved himself to be incapable of handling a class safely. I mean, a student injured and sent to the hospital on the very first lesson? Seems like a bad omen, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, please, Snape," A frustrated, heavy sigh left your nostrils again as you glanced to the side. "It's his first day!" You laughed incredulously, defending your friend. Sure, Hagrid might have misjudged this lesson by a smidge, however, you knew he would never put students in harms way.

"His first day, and his incompetency has resulted in injury!" Snape replied bitterly. He clearly didn't like Hagrid, and it was very obvious. He only ever spoke bad about the man, and it angered you. Hagrid was more than just an... 'oaf'. "Those... beasts... should have never been allowed at Hogwarts, regardless." Snape's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Give him the benefit of the doubt!" You cried out at Snape hopelessly. "And Buckbeak is a perfectly good hippogriff, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"How would you know that?" Snape's lips curled up into a distasteful sneer once again. Your cheeks ran hot as rage boiled beneath them at his comment.

"Because I know Buckbeak, Snape," You seethed at him with your fists balled, "Buckbeak would never do such a thing unless he felt threatened or insulted!" A hand flew up to wipe at your face, your breathing becoming ragged and hopeless. As you glanced back at Snape, he paused for a moment, his lips curling into an amused, incredulous smirk at your words. He couldn't believe what had just fallen from your mouth. Did he hear you correctly? Were you truly so delusional?

"You 'know' Buckbeak? Don't be absurd, Y/N." Snape huffed at you, his eyes narrowing as the corners of his lips tugged downwards disdainfully. "Buckbeak is a wild creature, it is hopelessly foolish of you to believe you can understand, much less, tame one!" He said, strained, his knuckles turning white from the aggressive, vice-like grip he had on his desk.

"These creatures are deeper than you think, Snape," you frowned, eyes stormy and reckless, unknowingly searching for trouble. His long fingers flew up to massage the bridge of his nose, clearly growing more fed up by the second. "Perhaps you'd understand if you had a heart within that empty chest of yours." A curt, exasperated sigh tore from your nostrils. Though, before you could take back your words, a blanket of regret wrapped itself around your seething body, your once-stormy eyes widening a tad as the realisation of what you had just uttered began to seep in. The sudden silence in the room was unbearably thick.

Snape's eyebrow twitched as he raised his head. Slowly, he fixed you with a dark, scrutinising gaze, rendering you speechless. Your body froze. "Bold, today, are we?" Snape's deep, stinging voice cut through the quietness like razors, reaching your ears like a thousand sharp pins.

You didn't answer him, fearing you might provoke him further. You'd never seen him like this. Dark, unnerved, fervent. It was terrifying to you. Perhaps you did cross the line. Gods, what had you done? Couldn't you have just brought the Mandrakes and sodded off? Jesus.

Snape marched towards you without a word, his cloak billowing out behind him like a flag. You couldn't help but notice the fury emanating from every single inch of his body, prompting your cheeks to flare up in a wild, raging blush. You had no time to defend yourself from Snape's long, cold and slender fingers as they clutched your jaw in force, shooting a frightening yet delicious shiver down your spine. A soft surprised gasp escaped your throat as he pushed you off of the stool you were sat on, a loud bang breaking through the silence as it clattered to the floor. Your back was instantaneously pressed against the table behind you as Snape shoved your backwards from the hold of your jaw, your eyes pooling with sudden panic as his fingers tightened against your skin, bound to leave marks. Fearfully, the palms of your hands flew to steady yourself against the edge of the table he'd rammed you against; your back arched painfully as he leaned right into your face, a spine-chilling scowl adopting his features.

The two of you were mere inches away from each other. Snape bared his teeth at you in a sneer, almost like he was revolted by your presence. He let his thumb slip upwards from your chin to the skin just beneath your bottom lip, pressing it against your teeth. Your eyes were forced to stare into his, his ones cold and penetrating in a way that only Snape's could be. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that at this point that you were afraid you'd go deaf. 

Both of your chests heaved laboriously, leaning against one another, like you'd just sprinted for a mile without stopping for a break. As you stared into Snape's threatening eyes, you felt your body numb, his signature scent of sweet wine, books and smoke invading your nose like it was nothing. Against your will, your body welcomed it and you felt yourself relapsing from the addicting smell. With wild eyes locked together, you saw something else swimming in his wicked, black eyes. They almost looked pained, helpless, maybe even like they were... yearning? Your eyes flicked over his face gradually, slowly drinking him in. Whilst the two of you stared at each other, trapped between one another's body, a fluttering sensation slowly materialised in your gut, prompting your eyes to fall to Snape's angry, quivering lips. The undeniable urge to press your lips against his own was scratching at you like a desperate caged animal. You inhaled sharply and blinked, averting your hungry eyes back to his own, distracting yourself from such thoughts. Again, you found yourself lost in him.

Before you even had a chance to look deeper, Snape's bone-chilling voice tore you from your thoughts. You felt as if he'd noticed you spotting something deeper lingering within him.

"Get. Out." Snape spat, roughly releasing you from his grip, your hand flying up to soothe your aching jaw. You stood there, your arched back and splayed out hands against the edge of the wooden table, flabbergasted. Snape stalked back to his desk acting like the previous minute did not just happen. For once, you obliged and stood up straight, your feet immediately rushing forwards to carry yourself out of Snape's classroom in absolute silence, face blank with shock. As you shut the door behind you, you paused in your footsteps for a moment, eyes locked absentmindedly on the cobblestone ground in front of you.

What the fuck had just happened? Can the two of you no longer have normal interactions? You always have to be at each other's throats each time?

Your fingers lifted up to your face and traced where Snape's fingertips had been pressed into the skin on your jaw, a dull soreness emitting from the area as you touched it. That's definitely going to leave a mark.

Fuck.

You just hoped Ben didn't visit you for another week or so. There was absolutely no way you could explain this without it seeming super fucking suspicious. Oh jeez, Ben. How were you meant to face him when you'd just been on the verge of kissing Snape? It was just in the heat of the moment, obviously... Was it? Did he feel it too? No, of course he didn't, he looked like he wanted to kill you.

A frustrated groan bubbled in your throat as you stomped away from Snape's classroom door, heading back to your class.

Merlin, were you fucked.

Part 9!

hey guys.... i hope you enjoyed this part, i apologise again for how long it took me omfg. i'm ashamed. :( i just couldn't get the creative juices flowing, then i got covid (which im still battling). like bruh give me a BREAK PLEASE.

anyway, i already have part 9 planned out so i'm hoping it wont be as long to type up!! <3 love you guys.

please let me know what you thought!! also what are your patronuses if you have one?! mine is a snowy owl :)

taglist: (i hope i haven't missed anyone or added anyone by accidient!! if i have i'm sorry and please tell me!!)

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

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@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@allygranger

@nataliewalker93

[teapartyprincess4two]

I'M THE ANON WHO REQUESTED FOR HEARTBREAK GIRL!!

FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU, OMG. I CAN'T BELIEVE U WROTE IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH BUTTTT I SHOULD'VE SPECIFIED THAT I WANTED A HAPPY ENDING BECAUSE I SWEAR I CAN'T TAKE ANGST AND UNRESOLVED ENDING 😭

sooo part two PLEASE??? <3333 (I'll give my right leg for free)

Heartbreak Girl PT.2- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Clueless!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: slight angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, slightly annoying reader, Matt has a gf (brief), HAPPY ENDING

inspiration: requests^^, Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS

summary: Matt tries moving on, but you reel him back in every time.

Heartbreak Girl PT.1

—

Matt couldn’t find it in himself to stay mad at you. No matter how hard he tried, he found excuse after excuse each time and ended up forgiving you. Matt’s mind was battling with itself, trying to muster up enough hatred to push you out of his life once and for all, but he couldn’t blame you for breaking his heart. Deep down Matt knew that it wasn’t your fault you fell in love with someone else, and it especially wasn’t your fault that he fell in love with you.

So, even though his mind told him no, his heart told him yes, and he found himself welcoming you back into his life just days after the incident.

It was Tuesday, an ordinary day for everyone in the Sturniolo household. You were visiting, something you did often, and you, Chris and Nick were engaged in meaningless conversation on the couch. Matt watches the three of you with a sad droop in his eyes from the kitchen, memories of him sobbing in the hallway just days before replaying through his mind. Your face was such a bittersweet sight; filling him with emotions of love and sadness.

Matt desperately wanted to be the underdog who won the girl, but he didn’t even know where to begin with you. There were so many boundaries he’d have to cross and he didn’t know if he was ready for it all. For starters, you were his best friend. What happens if he confesses and you simply don’t feel the same way? Would he lose you as a friend? Secondly, you just got out of a serious relationship and already voiced your opinion on future relationships. Even if Matt did confess, the trauma Mike left you would blind you. Matt was convinced that you’d never date him.

Matt grabs 4 drinks, the reasons he’s even in the kitchen in the first place, balancing them in his hands as he walks back into the living room. Silently, he hands the drinks out and sits back onto the couch, squeezing in between you and Chris. Your body instinctively scoots in closer to Matt’s, a sigh escaping your lips as you cuddle into his chest. He hates himself for quite literally welcoming you back with open arms, but he can’t help it. He loves you, and he’ll take anything he can get.

When Matt came home crying a few days ago, Nick and Chris prodded him for an explication. At first, he couldn’t find the courage to confess his feelings for you out loud, not even to his brothers. But, Nick and Chris were relentless and after a few more tries they managed to force the information out of Matt.

So, now that you’re wrapped in his arms, Nick sends Matt a warning glare. Matt can feel Nick’s burning stare, but he keeps his eyes on the TV in front of him. He was so undeniably whipped for you it was embarrassing, he couldn’t handle the judgmental looks from his brothers.

“I’m cold,” you whisper, looking up at Matt through your long, thick lashes. Matt’s first instinct is to warm you up, and he fights the urge to peel the clothes off his back and wrap you in it. “Want a blanket?” he asks sweetly, a glint of sadness in his eyes as he makes eye contact with you. Why was he giving into your every whim so easily? Why was he unable to hate you?

You hum in response, turning your attention back to the movie without another word. You had Matt wrapped around your finger, and with the way you just interacted with him, he knew you were playing him. But, like a well trained dog, he wiggled out from under you to fetch you a blanket. Nick and Chris watch in frustration, suppressing the urge to slap their brother for being so whipped.

“Thank you,” you murmur once Matt returns with the blanket, sprawling out over you as he snuggles back into his previous spot.

“Anything for you.”

—

Matt’s managed to slowly, but surely, get over you, for the most part at least. He didn’t want to, but he started seeing this girl he met through Instagram. His brothers pushed him to meet new people, mostly so he’d finally get over you, but he was hesitant at first. Matt held his reservations, he wanted to save himself for you for as long as possible.

But, he finally decided enough was enough because you didn’t remain true to your previous sentiments about dating. The words still rang through Matt’s mind every night, “I’m just ready to be single.” Why say that if you were going to start dating again just months later? Granted, you were only exploring, none of the people you were associating yourself with were of true interest, but it still hurt.

Matt spent his entire life pining for you, chasing you at a steady pace that kept you just out of reach. Then, for whatever reason, you let a random man enter your life and take his rightful spot? There was an unspoken claim that Matt felt for you, he needed you to be his and no one else’s. But it was clear now that you didn’t see him the same way, so he was forced to find comfort in someone else.

Fiona, the girl Matt was seeing, looked an awful lot like you. It was creepy how similar she was to you; she held a lot of the same mannerisms and dressed like you. Anyone could see that Matt was looking for you in her and that she was the perfect scapegoat, providing Matt with the perfect excuse to stop pursuing anything real with anyone.

When you first met Fiona, you put on a fake, tight lipped smile. You shook her hand aggressively, your firm grip sending her a message that she read loud and clear; you didn’t like her at all. For as long as you’ve known Matt, he’s always been just Matt. Now, with this new girl in the picture, he wasn’t just Matt anymore. It was now Matt and Fiona, and you hated it.

You had zero room to be upset, especially because Matt had practically thrown himself at you time and time again, but the jealousy built up every time you saw them together. Matt smiled at her? You’re furious. Matt tells you about her? You’re not listening. Matt takes her on a date? You hate her. That last part is true, you hate her.

“I just don’t see what he sees in her,” you say, messing with one of the stuffed animals that litter Nick’s bed. He’s been listening to you drone on and on about Fiona for hours. He rolls his eyes as he replies, “she’s nice? I don’t Y/n, can we talk about something else?”

You glance at him, an annoyed look written all over your face, “You’re supposed to listen to me rant. That’s what good friends do.”

“No, that’s what Matt does, and I’m not Matt.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, picking loose pieces of lint from Nick’s bedsheets.

“Why do you care so much about Fiona anyway? Aren’t you seeing that guy? What’s his na-“ Nick begins, but you cut him off because the string of questions begin annoying you.

“Ian? I went on ONE date with him,” you say.

“Okay, well why don’t you go on another?” Nick prods, beginning to push your buttons with each question. “Because he was weird. Plus he smelled like cigarettes,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance. Why couldn’t Nick just shut up and listen to you rant?

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re an avid Fiona hater, though.” Nick knows you’re fighting with the realization that you’re in love with Matt, why else would Fiona bother you so much?

“She’s just weird. Matt could do better,” you reply, your mind wandering into dangerous territory as you imagine a life where you and Matt are dating. The images tug at your heart strings, a feeling you’ve never felt before when thinking of your best friend.

“Oh okay. And I’m assuming you’re ‘better?’” Nicks’s fingers dramatically air quote the last word, causing a blush to form on your face. “I never said that! Don’t be annoying!” you exclaim, hitting him playfully with the stuffed animal.

He laughs, blocking your hits with his arms, “Just admit you’re in love with him and that’s why you don’t like his girlfriend.” Girlfriend, the word stung when he said it. You stop hitting Nick, slumping back into your spot.

“Girlfriend? They’re official?” the exasperation in your voice is enough to give you away. You’ve never felt this heartbroken before, not even when you and Mike officially ended things. This is a newfound pain, a feeling you don’t want to linger in. Were you blind this entire time? Has the veil finally been lifted only to reveal that your best friend, the love of your life, has his sights set on another?

Nick’s mouth goes agape, a hand quickly covering it. “Are you actually in love with my brother?!” his voice is muffled behind his hand, but still loud enough for you to hear. The realization finally sets in, you love Matt, but you’re too late.

“Holy fuck. I think I am,” you whisper, tears brimming at your eyes. Now what?

—

It’s rare that you and Matt get time alone nowadays, especially with Fiona always lingering around. Nick confirmed that they weren’t official, they weren’t even exclusive, but for some reason she was always just there. You tried being nice, especially if she was going to become a frequent character in your life, but it was hard.

You’re currently filming a car video with the triplets, grateful that they didn’t invite Matt’s new friend to crash the party. You’ve filmed many videos like this with them before, but for some reason you feel nervous the whole time.

Throughout the entire video Matt’s eyes are glued to you, he’s hanging onto your every word and relishing in the sweet sound of your laughter. This feels normal, and for a second he forgets all about the poor girl he was leading on. But, once the video reaches the halfway point, the conversation drifts into the topic of relationships.

“Okay, this person asks if any of us are in love. You go first, Y/n,” Chris reads the question from his phone, earning daggers from Nick. This was obviously a sensitive subject, and if Nick was in charge of reading the questions he would’ve glossed over it and moved onto the next, but Chris isn’t aware of your hidden feelings for Matt. Matt becomes visibly uncomfortable from his seat, shifting so he’s fully facing the dashboard. Whatever you’re going to say, he doesn’t want to hear it.

You cough awkwardly, “I don’t want to answer that.”

Nick is about to speak up in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction, but Chris doesn’t skip a beat, “Okay, that’s fine. Matt? How you liking your new lady friend?” Chris pokes Matt’s sides playfully, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. The question churns your stomach, you actually could vomit right now. Nick sends you a sympathetic glance, attempting to console you with a hand on your knee, but you push his hand away and shake your head profusely.

Matt wants to slap Chris, why would he even direct the question to him? But he keeps his composure, “She’s nice and funny. Nice girl.”

You can’t stop the snarky, sassy remark that escapes your mouth, “Wow. Sounds like true love.” Matt shifts to you in shock, the anger filling his body immediately. Who were you to talk? You crawled back to Mike every single time he uttered so much as a broken promise. You believed him every time he said he would change only to cry to Matt about your heartbreak hours later.

“What would you know? Not like Mike set much of an example,” Matt spits, venom laced in every word. You’re shocked and hurt, Matt was never the type to throw personal stuff in your face.

“So mature, Matt. So mature,” you reply with an eye roll. The air in the car is becoming tense, both Nick and Chris unaware of what to do with themselves. Do they interject? Do they change the subject? Or do they just let you two hash it out? They decided on the last option, scooting far back into their seats and watching the situation unfold.

“Oh shut up! You called me every night crying over that loser. Is that what love is to you?! Because if so, I don’t want any part of it,” Matt’s voice is so loud it shakes the car, he’s pointing an accusatory finger in your face and leaning so far forward in his seat that he’s practically in the backseat.

You’re no stranger to fights, especially not after having Mike as an ex, so you’re quick to respond, “What a best friend you are! If I would’ve known you were going to throw this back in my face, I would’ve never told you any of this!”

Matt’s seething with anger, but so are you. He breaths in deeply through his nose, ready to rip you a new one, but Nick decides he’s heard enough. The camera is still rolling and the mood is ruined.

“Are you two idiots done? Jesus, fuck,” Nick groans, pushing himself between you two and grabbing the camera from the dashboard.

“That was… a lot,” Chris chuckles nervously from the front seat, he has no idea what just happened. Matt clenches his jaw, breaking his gaze from you and facing forward.

“Just take me home,” you command, an angry tone still laced in your voice. The faster you could get out of this car, the better.

“Already on it,” Matt retorts, starting the car and reversing out of the parking lot. You’re about to make a snarky remark, but he turns the volume up, loud radio music drowning your voice. You’re trembling at this point, the pent up anger threatening to burst at any moment.

Once Matt pulls up to your house, he quickly places the car in park, unlocking the doors from the front seat to serve as your invitation to leave. You gladly accept it, dismissing yourself from Nick and Chris with a genuine, apologetic smile before swinging the door open. You step out of the car, slamming the door shut soon after.

You stomp your way to your house, trembling hands unlocking your front door. But once you’re inside, any anger you felt is replaced with sadness, the tears finally spilling over.

You felt helpless, forced to navigate new feelings you didn’t ask for. You groan in frustration, wiping the tears away and walking to your room, you were NOT going to cry over Matt.

That resolution didn’t last very long, though, as soon as you’re in your room you slump onto your bed and the tears continue to flow. You scream into your pillow, letting all your frustrations out. As much as you loved Matt, you hated him for making you feel this way.

—

Matt is going through the same emotions; his mind dancing over a fine line of hatred and love for you. He hated how much he loved you. The entire situation in the car earned him a tongue lashing from Nick and he soon realized that whatever he had with Fiona had to end. He couldn’t keep leading her on, because, as much as he hated to admit it, you were right; he didn’t love her.

So, he broke the poor girl’s heart through a text message. He blocked her right after and took a long, cold shower to try and wash away the guilt. Matt tried convincing himself that this was the right thing to do, that he was going to end up winning the girl, his girl.

He twists the knobs of the shower, turning the water off and quickly exiting the tub. He knows what he has to do, and if he’s going to do it, it had to be right now. There was no time to wait. He dresses himself swiftly, throwing on the first outfit he can find before grabbing his car keys and rushing out the door.

Matt feels a surge of adrenaline course through his veins, it was now or never. He drives to your house, running through red lights and stop signs on the way there. He’s throwing the car in park, yanking the keys out of the ignition and throwing his seat belt off as quickly as possible. His legs carry him to your front door at lightning speed, a heavy fist knocking so loud the sound travels through your home.

It startles you from your sleep, causing you to jolt up from your bed and look around the room. Matt is yelling your name at this point, trying his to call you down. “What the fuck?” you croak, grabbing your phone and checking the time. It’s only been two hours since Matt dropped you off, what could he possibly want.

You slip your house shoes on, tired feet trudging downstairs to the front door. You open the door abruptly, still holding some resentment from earlier, “What Matt? What could possibly be so important that you’re banging on my door at midnight.”

Matt clears his throat, ignoring your sour attitude as he prepares to confess to you. “If this is about our fight from earlier, I forgive you. Goodni-“ you continue, but Matt cuts you off.

“Can I speak? Damn.” He waits patiently to see if you’re going to interrupt before continuing, “I broke it off with Fiona.”

You have to physically stop yourself from jumping for joy at the news, instead replying either a snarky remark, “okay, how is this news worth losing sleep over?”

“Just shut up for one second, please,” he shushes you, taking a step into your house. He closes the door behind him, shaky hands find their way to your face. You subconsciously lean into him, relishing in his touch.

“Y/n, I love you. And before you interrupt, just listen,” he begins, holding a stare so intense that it makes your knees wobble. You hum in response, ready to hear everything this man has to say.

He takes a deep breath, “I love you and I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. Everyday I wake up and curse the world for not making you mine. I love everything about you; your laugh, your smile, your sense of humor, your face, everything, Y/n. The moments I spend away from you are painful and the ones I spend with you are the highlights of my life.” Butterflies are fluttering around your stomach, you want to pull him in and kiss him already, but he’s not done.

“I’ve kept this a secret for a long time, mostly because I was afraid of what it would do to our friendship. But I can’t deny it anymore. I. Love. You. The longer I keep it in, the more it hurts,” he pushes his forehead against yours, his wet hair tickling your skin. “When you were with Mike, I wished I was him every day. If I was him, I would have never made you cry. I would have protected and taken care of you- I will protect and take care of you. I’d quite literally do anything for you, Y/n. Anything.”

He inhales deeply again, the anxiety dissipating as he searches your eyes. They’re twinkling, a big smile spread across your face as he continues, “From the way you reacted earlier, I know you feel the same way. Don’t deny it. You love me just as much as I love you. Just…” he finished his statement by fluttering his eyes closed and attaching his lips to yours.

You kiss back, an instant wave of joy washing over you. “I love you, too,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the way his lips curl up into a smile. He knew it, but it felt good to hear you say it. He pulls you in for another kiss, ready to spend the rest of forever with you.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you heartbreak girl anon, I’ll be expecting that right leg in the mail soon. This was a popular demand here on the TeaPartyPrincess4Two blog, so I ofc had to supply. Luv u, enjoy 👍🏻💌 (also… Shameless mentioned????)

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @stinkytinkywinky @pepsiluvr0209 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[jerktournament]

ROUND ONE - Herbert P. Bear (Club Penguin) VS Snowball (Battle for Dream Island)

!!! PROPAGANDA BELOW !!!

HERBERT: "Herbert may be a fandom darling in our fandom of like, 20 people. BUT DON'T LET THAT FOOL YOU! He is a conniving, EVIL bear, and a professional jerk and some highlights of his jerkishness include... - Spending ten years of his life (by the time the game closed) trying to destroy the Penguin Secret Agency and Elite Penguin Force (both were agencies that protected the island from disasters and villains like Herbert) with varying success... - SUCCESSFULLY destroyed the Penguin Secret Agency with a popcorn bomb, which destroyed their HQ. It should also be noted that while doing so, he locked in the player, Rookie, and Gary the Gadget Guy, presumably so the bombs explosion would have killed them all. -Teamed up with the EPF to stop the Ultimate Protobot 10,000 and the Test Bots, a small group of four dangerous robots after he personally brought them back. When Protobot went "too far" for Herbert's standards by threatening the environment and trying to completely destroy the EPF (despite the aforementioned Popcorn Bomb incident literally destroying the PSA, and also a certain Operation: Blackout), causing him to temporarily switch sides. This might sound like a character growth moment...except for the fact that he immediately betrays them once Protobot is dealt with and attacks and damages the EPF's HQ using a robot hydra made for the Medieval Party that he stole. - A canonical ex-dictator. Don't believe me? Look up Operation: Blackout on the Club Penguin Wiki! He froze several agents during his reign of terror, was open to freezing innocent civilians, and also wanted to do away with puffles- the pets of penguins. He also banned several hobbies and professions during his reign (being a Ninja, a DJ, a Pirate, etc) for no reason other than disliking them. He also destroyed the EPF'S HQ and exposed two agents' private information to the public. This means Herbert is the first and only character to canonically dox people he doesn't like on Club Penguin. -Was planning to bomb the EPF literally two months later with a hot sauce bomb (makes sense in context of the game and yes, it is more destructive than it sounds). -Brainwashed puffles into digging coins for him purely because his henchman, Klutzy the crab brought a coin slot to use for his DIY heater, instead of just removing the coin slot and retooling it to work without one like a normal person."

SNOWBALL: "OMG. SNOWBALL. SB. BABYGIRL. MI PRINCESA. HE IS SUCH A JERK. ok so for starters he is very arrogant and cocky (like a jock) and he thinks of himself as better than other contestants. snowball is also very stubborn and doesn't like people telling him what to do, and he often ditch or hurt his teammates for the sake of the challenge, thinking he was in the right to do so. he often intimidates and threatens the hosts of the show he competes on (x in bfb and two in TPOT) and he is also bery unlikeable both to fans and in universe. he was so unlikeable that in the firsr season of the bfdi franchise in a vote to regoin, he got the least votes out of 21 contestants with 8, less than 1/100 of the total votes. because of his behavior he made a reputation for himself among the other contestants, and was picked last for team making in the 5th season/TPOT. even on his new team in TPOT he is give the cold sholder by his teammates. OK NOW TO THE JERKY STUFF HE DID. so first of all he has killed at least 10 people, and he has hurt multiple contestants out of rage or for the challenge multiple times (some examples being when he broke fanny, a member of his older team from season 4 for telling him what to do, or him setting grassy, another member on his team in the 5th season on fire for the challenge. or the time that he punched grassy off inti the distance twice because "he felt like punching something "in episode 3 of TPOT). snowball also sabotaged his team in a challenge on purpose purely because of his ego (episode 4 of TPOT). he is also pretty rude to pretty much anyone and everyone, including hosts. only begrudgingly listening to them if it benefits himself. that is it (sorry for the really long propaganda he is my comfort and my favorite character from his series, i have been nominated as his no. 1 fan)"

[hobiespick]

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you’re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

[justporo]

Poro,

Do you ever think about what Astarion looks like when hunting small prey like rabbits? Does he do his little gremlin run? Or does he run like a horse girl who pretends to be a horse?

Hey Andie, first of all:

FGBBGEBGFWEG, HORSE GIRL??

Omg, can you imagine. For real though, I mean he hasn't really hunted anything of consequence for two hundred years. Maybe I am trying to rationalise his stupid way of running away (don't get me wrong, I love when he's being cringe lol) but I do imagine him being more like a cat being ready to pounce.

But I do have more thoughts about him hunting.

For starters we all know the bear scene. Not only does he seem drunk on all that blood but it also sounds like he enjoyed hunting and taking down a bear - like the actual thrill of the hunt. And bears are fucking MASSIVE (insert obvious reference to DiCaprio and The Revenant here), even for a vampire spawn (a debuffed one at least) it's a feat to achieve. So what I am trying to say is: he didn't even *really* hunt while he was under Cazador, he's never really gotten to feel either that predatory thrill nor does he have any real experience.

So here's my personal headcanon for how Astarion feeds himself after the events of the game:

As he's settld down with Tav in Baldur's Gate (at least in my personal HC and for the time being) I guess it would be pretty time consuming to always go out hunting in the woods every night. I would absolutely assume Astarion doesn't take the blood of innocents - even without killing them - since he's had enough of hurting them under Cazador. If people give blood willingly, that's game, or foes of course.

I could imagine they find a local butcher and source blood from there, somewhere in the Lower City where people don't ask questions about what the hells they wanna do with all that blood from the butchering ("Cult or something? Gods above and below, please not another...").

Is that very tasty? Well depends probably but mostly it's okay, enough to nurture Astarion and still better than vermin...

Obviously - and this is something that irks me in canon - Astarion can't take Tav's blood each and every single night (I mean yeah, lesser restoration and such but I like to think that it's still unrealistic). This is more like a special treat to Astarion: like a good wine, a rich dessert (maybe spicy even, if you get what I'm saying).

Sometimes Astarion does go out for a good hunt though, every once in a while. Because that's the only way to get fresh blood in abundance. It's also a way he can embrace his more animalistic side, enjoy a good hunt - without feeling guilty about it. And I like to think he embraces this part of himself a bit more and gets to thrive in it a little.

Oh and also can you imagine how an Astarion, still riled up from a demanding hunt comes home to Tav in their joint bed - blood still smeared all over him....?

Because *I* can....

[kitybur]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐭 2

⌦ in which fans make another compilation of tanner and you moments from the group.

[ ONE , TWO ]

— warnings: swearing, gn!reader, fluff, inappropriate joking

| I neeeeed a part 2 of worthy moments 😭 |

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

once again, the time has come where more videos have been uploaded with the internets favourite youtube couple. and you know what that means? more compilations of them together with even more worthy moments.

the first video had blew up, making the publisher wanting to make more content about the pair. and boy did they get their fun when “the group” had uploaded several new videos on their website. so now we buckle up, and get ready to watch the second best video of cuteness.

bigt and y/n being the it couple, part two; a continuation.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

the group had gone to japan for a trip and we’re currently walking through the entrance of japans nintendo world. yumi and nick were talking to the camera about a water ride when the footage zooms in on tanner excitedly talking about something behind the boys. he was moving his hands and walking sideways all the keep his eyes on y/n, who was watching him with a big smile and nodding their head to his words.

the video cuts to the group walking together when larry asks nick to buy him bowser. “wait, i want bowser too” tanner says.

“if you’re bowser can i be your peach?” y/n grins. tanner looks at them confused. “that way you can keep me all to yourself!” they say with a teasing tone. larry laughs, having being beside them, and tanner slides an arm over their shoulders.

“i already have you all to myself.” he flaunts proudly.

—

the group had split off into two groups, but thankfully tanner and y/n were still together. their group had bought turkey legs to eat as a starter meal to fill their empty stomachs. the camera panned to show tanner holding the leg to y/n’s mouth, to which they took a simple bite out of the side. chewing, they took the leg from tanner and did the same. holding their hand under the leg incase any dropped from tanner’s large bite, he thanked them with a simple kiss to the hand.

“the waterfall is so pretty” y/n said to the camera as the group stopped to eat. “i would love to live here and experience more that japan has to offer. it is so beautiful.” they ranted as they were filmed. without notice, tanner had came in and wrapped his arms around their shoulders from behind, pressing their back into him. he brought his turkey leg back up to their mouth, which they accepted with a smile and pat on the forearm.

“eat up, pretty thing. cant have you fainting on us, can we?”

“the only reason i’d be fainting is from your love overload, silly.”

—

“omg, they have a peach hat!” y/n said excitedly, having remembered the conversation from earlier. although tanner ended up getting a luigi hat to match with nick, y/n was thrilled to get a hat of their own.

“how do i look?” they asked the guys as they put the hat on. the guys all nodded their head and told them it was definitely their hat.

“here baby, i’ll but it for you.” tanner suggested quietly but loud enough for the camera to pick up. he took the hat without hesitation and brought it to the cash. y/n smiled with red cheeks as tanner brought the hat back and placed it gently upon their head. tucking away any loose hairs and snugging it on the best he could, he backed away. “man this is cute!” he happily pulled out his phone and took a photo.

(he ended up posting it on twitter captioned; cant wait to take princess peach home with me)

—

“today we’re playing hide and seek and a 5 million dollar mansion. nick is the seeker, we’re all hiding, we have 30 seconds, we gotta go now!”

y/n had agreed to be in the groups hide and seek video and fans couldn’t be more happier with it. the video was just starting, and members were already running away as nick started counting. from y/n’s camera, it is seen that tanner grabs their hand and brings them along with him, wanting to stay together.

as they run inside, tanner leads them upstairs. “it’s me and you baby!” opening a door leading to almost nothing. y/n’s laugh can be heard as they usher him up the stairs to find a new hiding spot.

in the process, tanner, larry and y/n ended up together and had sat down on the fancy couch to turn on bluey. sadly, the trio couldn’t watch as there was no disney plus account. y/n laid back, gathering all their stamina for the next few hours. tanner’s go pro suddenly has turned black, and from y/n’s perspective, you can see tanner laying down on y/n’s chest already played out.

“tanner, i love you, but I just heard somebody and we gotta go” they say, patting his head as he groans.

“don’t be scared baby, I’ll protect you!”

—

the pair were running down the stairs, hoping not to get caught before tanner had rounded a corner and ran straight into nick. tanner’s recation was quicker than his feet, letting himself scream before getting tagged and yelling, “y/n, run! save yourself!”

y/n didn’t need to hear it twice before running off, not before shouting “I’ll avenge you, sugar! i’ll be back for you!” they could hear tanner screaming in defeat has he walked to the couches to be met with the rest of the out players.

y/n ran upstairs the the blue room and wiped their hand on their sweaty forehead. they set the camera down, panting as they took off tanner’s sweater. “fuck chat, tanner’s out.” they heaved. “I don’t even know where the guns are, i want my man back i miss him.” they pouted.

(how dare softwilly split the pair up, outrages!)

it wasn’t more than minutes later when grunk and a nerf gun, ready to get nick frozen and y/n had a tennis ball. they ran the opposite way of the two, and quickly ran the ball to the couches. “guys! i’ve got a ball!”

“that’s my baby!” tanner yelled standing up and picking y/n up by the waist. he spun them around once before setting them down on the floor. “way to go, hot shot!” they high-fived. as y/n was running away once again, tanner landed a small smack on their ass as a congratulations. from the room, y/n can hear yumi yelling.

“oh gross, get a room!”

“gladly” y/n winks to the camera.

—

y/n’s time running had stopped when she noticed nick going after grunk. they made a decision and ran next to nick, getting themselves out for grunk.

“you just got yourself out!” nick shouted, confused. y/n laughed, along with grunk who thanked them and ran. nick looked back and forth between to two before running up the stairs. “i’ll be back for an explanation, y/n!”

y/n took a deep breath and looked at their camera, “anything for grunk” before walking slowly to the couches. there, they saw tanner sitting down on a single chair and out of no where, plopped on his lap.

tanner grunted, “you out?” to where y/n nodded. tanner couldnt even be upset as he got to have his partner back. he gave them a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, quietly whispering how good they did. it was safe to say the couple was ready for a long nap after filming.

—

when the next round started, tanner was talking to the camera about their new skill. the pair had taken off their shoes to appear more quieter to the seeker. y/n high fives him for his smart idea.

they had ran upstairs into a bathroom, where a tennis ball was sitting in the sink. “oh tanner, look” y/n whisper shouted, pointing at the ball. “you take it, sugar”

tanner gratefully took the ball and thanked y/n. “i want you to be our reason we win, we’re gonna find you all the tennis balls we can!” y/n says happily, pointing their camera at tanner. he was over the moon with their response, and for his, he leaned in for a passionate, small kiss.

from there, the cameras cut to the pair making silly faces in the bathroom mirror, which were taken as photos and posted on instagram.

—

although they didn’t win, and both got out, y/n had an amazing time with their friends and tanner. as they filmed the outtro, y/n handed tanner a bottle of water. he guzzled it down and tiredly leaned his head on y/n’s. they wrapped an arm around his hips, keeping him up and they all said goodbye.

the main video ends with self promotion, concluding the second part to worthy moments. fans never thanked the publisher enough over the second video, loving every crumbs they get of the couple.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

a/n: guys, im so so sorry this took so long to come out. i have been having many of doctor appointments and exams for my health and just overall been enjoying my summer. im hoping to get back into the writing era soon and publishing some requests i currently have.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello! I've been loving your tiktoks and I have a somewhat selfish question. I'm wondering if you have posts with links of the fics you've recommended on tiktok? Specifically I'm thinking of a video where you were recommending fics for someone just getting into wolfstar. And while that's not me, lol, I was horrified how many I hadn't read! But didn't have it in me right then to go and find them and mark them all for later. Feel free to tell me that some ao3 searching is good for me ;)

Hello and thank you for supporting me on two channels?! 🥹 And yes, I'll link the fics here for you as well as a list of more fics to get people introduced to Wolfstar as a ship.

And thanks for the feedback! If I grab fics from a list to post on TikTok, I'll start commenting with the link so you can find them easily. Hope that helps and thanks for sending an ask!

Wolfstar Starter Kit WolfstarLibrarian on TikTok

New To Wolfstar Fics

Fics to share with people to get them on board this ship!

Incredible Things orphaned account When Lily Evans agrees to go on a date with James, he panics and seeks comfort from his favourite werewolf who is pining away for his own, secret crush. One thing leads to another, and they discover a few things about themselves.

Nox by bliiinding

The Marauders are starting their fifth year at Hogwarts; Remus is starting with a massive scar across his face - a byproduct of the increasing severity of his furry little problem, which is a definite cause for concern despite his insistence that it it’s fine.

If I May Just Take Your Breath Away by @lovingremus "Sirius making it to the team had brought an unpredicted guest to the stands surrounding the pitch. Remus Lupin’s sudden interest in their Quidditch practices after years of refusing to attend even the matches was odd enough, and at first, Sirius didn’t understand why James was complaining – he was more than happy to have Remus there, to keep him company and for him to stare at."

copycats by @kangandkodos

Sirius is a trend setter. Sirius is a trend setter that doesn’t seem to notice it, or care, or make any comment towards the fact that he wore his hair in a ponytail last week and now half the school have styled their hair in exactly the same way. Remus cares.

I Wouldn't Mind by @omg-someone-actually Your typical Hogwarts get-together including but not limited to: vicious full moon, teenage shenanigans and drama, excessive swearing, one (1) oblivious idiot in love, one (1) not-so-oblivious-but-still-an-idiot in love and some good old pining.

Wet Dog by @lying-like-breathing Sirius is tired of Remus saying he smells like a wet dog, so he bathes himself in amortentia to cover it up. It doesn’t work quite as well as he expected it to…

Share this with your own recs!

[actiniumwrites]

Just saw your event and first of all congrats on your milestone, you deserve it and many many more!! <3 If you'll allow me, I'd like to send in a request as well: I'd like to pick bookstore + citrine + clear quartz + moonstone for Alhaitham

synopsis: you run into your ex boyfriend at your favorite bookstore six months after your break up

with the prompts: warmth and comfort, healing from hurt, and new beginnings !

characters: alhaitham x gn!reader

wc: 644

warnings: exes to lovers (??), modern au, breakups, a pinch of angst, alhaitham sucks at reading fiction

notes: this is part of my 2.5k followers event! omg thank you so much, dust! i’m so happy you participated, and i love the prompts, i think it was really fun to write <3

“Next,” a monotone voice calls out amidst the calm atmosphere of your favorite bookstore: Avidya Books. You fidget with the hardcover book that sits tightly in your left hand as you dreadfully drag your body up to the counter.

You slide the book onto the counter with a little more force than intended, a grimace on your face as you eagerly avoid eye contact with the man standing before you. Blue and orange eyes linger on your figure before a light scoff escapes him, “What is this?”

You cough into your arm, eyes glancing back and forth between the digital clock on the wall beside you and the face you very much wished you would never have to see again, “It’s a book you lent me…I need to return it.”

“And you came here?” he deadpans.

“Well, um,” you stutter, shifting your weight onto your other foot, “yeah, I mean, it has the bookstore label on it…and I don’t know where you live anymore…since well, you know.”

Alhaitham squints his eyes at you, almost like he’s trying to analyze your every move. Just like he always did.

At least he hasn’t changed much.

“And what exactly is your reason for returning it?”

“I didn’t like it,” you state simply, “too boring for me.”

His lips part in shock and his eyebrows furrow, “What? How? You do realize this is one of the greatest works of literature to ever exist right?”

“That’s extremely subjective,” you argue, crossing your arms, “you of all people should know that.”

“Okay,” he surrenders, but you know it’s only an act. Alhaitham always tried to find ways to prove you wrong, even over the smallest things. It was one of the many faults that resulted in the demise of your relationship, “What about it was boring to you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and shake your head, “For starters, the plot lacked substance. A majority of the characters were the only thing carrying the story, however, many of the others were underdeveloped or forgotten about entirely. Not to mention, the author lacks an understanding of what real dialogue sounds like. I mean, c’mon! The guy sounds like he’s never even talked to someone in real life before!”

“It isn’t like you talk to many people either,” he retorts.

You scoff, “Oh, yeah? Like you’re any better. You barely even have friends! Poor Kaveh can’t shut up about how tired he is of you ganging up on him.”

“So you guys still talk about me then?” He cuts in before you can say anything else. It’s less of a question and more of a statement, and you can’t bring yourself to say he’s wrong.

You talked about him…a lot. Six months had passed and you still weren’t over him, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

Your eyes focus themselves back on the same wall as before and Alhaitham takes the hint as he quietly slides the book into the counter behind him. “I still talk about you too,” he admits quietly when he turns back around, a serious tone in his voice, “Kaveh’s sick of hearing it, but then I remind him of his lack of a love life and he shuts up.”

A small laugh falls from your lips, “God, you are so mean.”

“I’m just being honest,” he states arrogantly, a small smirk pulling at the sides of his mouth.

Your eyes linger on his for a second before you glance down at the counter, “I still have another book of yours, you know?”

Alhaitham raises a brow, “Oh? Well I suppose you’ll have to return it me somehow. You know how much I value those.”

You hum and shoot him a smile, “If you meet me for coffee on Saturday, I can return it to you then.”

“Saturday it is.”

[marleyybluu]

Truth or Drink 2

Pedro x fem!reader

WC: 1.4k

omg not her posting another Pedro one after she said she wouldn't for a while... not sorry

Same spots. Same interview but under different circumstances. The makeup artist added the finishing touches to your face. Pedro was in awe of you as usual like a smitten kitten, love was written all over his face. You could feel it, you didn't even have to ask if he was looking at you. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" He innocently shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

The two of you were invited back for another segment of Truth or Drink but this time it was no movie promotion, though you two had separate projects going on, this was about your blossoming relationship. Since the last interview, you and Pedro had finally confessed your feelings to each other and it'd been a blissful ride ever since.

A whole year of surprise dates, endless compliments and kisses, whenever he touched you it made bumps form on your skin as if every time was the first. You too had never loved anyone the way you loved Pedro, you would do anything for him and you made sure he knew that. The makeup was done and soon it was time to record, you were a bit more nervous for this one because the crew had told you guys these questions would be different.

"You guys ready?"

"As always," Pedro answered. The cameraman counted down and pointed for you two to begin, but neither of you said anything. "Am I doing it first this time?" You asked. "By all means."

You blushed and looked at the camera. "Hello, I am YN YLN and this is my... boyfriend Pedro Pascal-" He uttered a giggle and covered his mouth soon after. You laughed hiding behind your hands, this interview might be more chaotic than the last one.

"What do you guys notice about this interview?"

"We didn't have to write our own questions." You answered. "We have pulled questions from various sources. Instagram, Twitter and even people you two are close to."

Pedro playfully frowned. "Shit."

"Same rules apply. You ask, you either say the truth or drink, and you can go ahead with a starter shot."

Pedro picked the drink this time, pouring his and about to pour yours until you stopped him. "Can I have this one, please? I asked them to get me this one." You politely informed pointing to the bottle in the middle. He shrugged pouring your shot and closing back the bottle before placing it back with the others, just like the last time you raised your glasses with a little nod and, "Salud." Once your drinks were down you asked the first question. "Where did you take me on our first date?"

Easy.

He became giggly all over again. "So, you've always said that you hate restaurants as a first date, too bland, too formal, so I booked out an entire arcade for the both of us and we were in there for hours."

You proudly nodded. "Best date ever."

"Good, I'm glad." He blushed. It was his turn to ask. He cleared his throat. "Do we have any pet names for each other?"

You winked. "You love my pet names. I call you Pedrito, Pookie, baby, love... papi Pascal." And judging by his reaction, that might be his favourite one. "My names for her are in Spanish though. So I'll call her mi amor, mi corazon, bébé... I think I'm missing one."

"Cariño." You added. "Oh yeah, she's my cariño."

You leaned back in your chair reading the next question. "What do you like about me, physically? Oh lord." Pedro rubbed his hands together and laughed menacingly, you hid behind your cards knowing he'll say the obvious answer. "Your boobs."

"Alright, interview over."

"No, no, no... relaaax." He played along. "I mean I do like your boobs, but, your eyes do it for me. They're so big and pretty and wondrous, they allow me to look into such a kind loving soul that puts up with me and my antics."

You pouted. "Aww,"

"Boobs are a close second though." He added. "I love your smile the most. When you smile or laugh your eyes close and it's the cutest fucking thing, your entire face lights up too and I could just squish you." You cooed.

You two continued your string of questions, so far nothing was asked that made you want to drink but you still took shots in between for entertainment and the fact that it's free liquor who was passing that up? The first round of questions, you were informed, were mostly from fans and that this round was from close friends and family so it was definitely about to get risqué. You sighed. "Do you think we have enough sex?"

Pedro beamed. "I think we may have too much for people with such busy schedules."

"Are you guys saying you do it whenever and wherever you can?"

You two nodded. "Have you ever done it at a movie premiere or something?"

He reached for the bottle and poured, both of your attempts at keeping a straight face were slowly failing, until you let out a snort that triggered Pedro's. You clinked glasses before taking the shot. "Do you think we'd last if we got married?" Pedro asked. You scrunched up your face, what a ridiculous question. "Of course. You are the most caring and kind person I've ever met, the way you treat me is insane, I've never had anyone love me the way you do," Your voice broke and your eyes burned, you fanned your face and giggled nervously. "Got me crying on camera and shit."

Pedro reached over grabbing your free hand, soothing you by caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "You know I love you, mama."

"I know." You pouted. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much more." You rolled your eyes gently hitting his arm with the cards, he always had to get the last 'I love you.' He flashed that cute smile that made you melt 100 times over. "Come here," You didn't take even a second thought before getting up to sit on his lap, you rested your head on top of his while he held you close. "How long did it take you guys to say I love you?" One of the crew asked. "Three months," Pedro chuckled. "Truthfully I wanted to say it sooner."

You nodded. "Me too."

Last question. You had a surprise that came with this one. "Are you excited to be a new dad?"

The question didn't really register just yet. "Of course I am. I can't wait for us to start a family one day, and to have another cute face to wake up to. I mean I think maybe I'd wait until I could take a break and then that way I could spend all my time taking care of... wait."

It hit. "Am I excited to be a new dad? But we don't... you're not..."

Pedro bit his lip. "Are you pregnant?"

You reached into your back pocket and pulled out a folded picture of your first ultrasound. He broke. "YN... you're joking."

"I am not," You leaned in and pointed to the little dot. "That little peanut is ours."

Pedro sat speechless which was a rare occasion for him, he took the picture in his hand really trying to comprehend that he assisted in creating another life, that in just nine short months he'd get the one thing he deeply craved, that he yearned for. His own family.

He smiled as a tear slipped from his eye. You wiped it away kissing his temple. "Wait, so what have you been drinking?"

"Diluted apple juice," You answered, you turned the camera and pointed. "Which fucking sucks by the way so my faces were real."

The crew laughed. Pedro still stared at the photo, you rested your head on top of his. "You didn't answer my question. Truth or drink, are you excited to be a dad?"

"Of course, I'm fucking excited," He looked up at you, you pecked his lips. "Thank you," He whispered. "I love you." You whispered back.

"I love you more," He turned to the crew. "I guess the next time you see us we'll have another drinker in the mix." He joked. "Last time we ended this video as a potential couple and this one we are soon to be parents."

"When we come back we'll be married. I promise you that." He hinted. The cameras cut, the crew applauded and congratulated you two. Pedro grabbed your stuff and held them for you as you walked off-set. It's weird to think one little interview that involved a few shots would lead you to where you are now completely and utterly in love.

yes i made him a dad again. yes i warned yall i do this

if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. peace and love

tags @skyesthebomb

[satureja13]

After a few additional hours working on the devices, Rubyn called it a day and dragged the Boys over to the Cantina. Sai only followed reluctantly, he wanted to get it done already. But the others are tired and Rubyn was adamant. Jack squealed when he saw what the Cantina offered! He shoved Sai on one of the gaming mats and hopped onto the other. Jack and Sai love games of all kind and it's been far too long since they had the chance to play some video games together.

Ji Ho and Vlad stayed outside - to recharge. They are still too worn up after teleporting and the noise and commotion inside the cantina would only make it worse for them.

Jack and Kiyoshi were planning their late night Grim Reaper quests. And while Jack was still busy reading the tome, Kiyoshi asked Rubyn about some plants they could graft. Mos Verdantis is self-sufficient, so of course Rubyn owns a greenhouse. Rubyn: "Use whatever plants you want, I'm always looking for some new breeds. The greenhouse is right behind the yard we had dinner." Kiyoshi: "Awesome, thanks!"

Jeb had dragged Sai over to a little nook where they could talk for a while in peace. But Sai only had their mission to find Tiny Can (and desintegrate him) on his mind. Jeb: "Can we maybe just not talk about our problems for a while? It's the first time for ages we're on something that could count as a date." Sai stopped in his motion. A date? With Jeb? NOW? Omg!

Saiwa straightened, aghast: "Eh, sure. What do you want to talk about instead?" Jeb smiled: "We barely haven't seen each other for months. I'm sure we figure something out. I saw you started reading. What books do you like?" Saiwa blushed. It's embarrassing to tell Jeb he's reading steamy gay romance books. But it's also a good chance to get them talking about their love life, right? Sai: "Eh. I found these romance books and I really like them."

Jeb blushed. So Sai is reading books about hot guys...other hot guys. He was a bit jealous. And worried Sai could look somewhere else for the things he couldn't give him. And sad, because he couldn't give Sai what he was longing for - apparently. But this could be a good starter to talk about their love life - and to tell Sai about his worries. And maybe find some solutions? And so Jeb listened closely to what these hot guys were up to in Sai's favourite books. Surprisingly these novels were not only about making out and wild woohoos. They offered interesting plots for all tastes and endearing characters. This wasn't as humiliating as Jeb had expected it to be. They forgot time and talked for hours. They didn't even notice the others already all left.

Ji Ho and Vlad went to their tent early. Ji Ho feels how happy Vlad is to be here and on the way to their tent, he coaxed Vlad into a conversation about this place, spaceships and Star Wars. Almost just like a normal couple ^^' Ji Ho can even comprehend why Vlad is so amazed. This place is stunning.

Jack and Kiyoshi are already busy in the greenhouse - with Grim's requests.

Jack: "Huh? It's stuck somehow." Kiyoshi: "Wait, I'll help you open it up a little wider..." Jack: "Ah! That's better! ... Look at that plump stem jutting out! I can barely get my hand around it's girth!" Sai: "Hey! Do your filthy mates, just mates stuff in silence!" Jack laughed: "Are you jealous? Don't worry - we're at the greenhouse and the door got stuck. And I was referring to a plant and not to Kiyoshi's 'stem' hahaha." Sai muttered to himself: "I'm going to kill him..." Jeb: "I'm heading to the bathroom." Nooo! Sai wanted to tempt Jeb for a good night kiss before they went to sleep in their tents. Dammit. No kiss - and another night with Jack...

Sai trudged in one of the empty tents. It had been such a nice evening with Jeb, and now he'd ruined it - because of Jack! Who knows when they were able to be alone together again. He just took off his clothes and rummaged furiously in his suitcase when the tarpaulin rustled. Are Jack and Kioyshi already done? Jeb gasped: "I... I'm sorry! Forgot - forgot..." Omg, it's Jeb!

Sai dropped what he had in his hands: "What are you doing here? Aren't you sharing a tent with Kiyoshi?" This kicked Jeb out of his stupor and he laughed: "As if anyone could separate Jack from his fated mate ^^' " Sai: "Oh." Jeb was so enchanted by the look of Sai, he wasn't able to stop himself from saying: "You're utterly beautiful." Sai held his breath for a second, but he was unable to hold his words back either: "I want you so bad, Jeb."

Jeb hauled Sai in his arms and kissed him hungrily. He had no idea where this sudden boldness came from ö.Ö' But it felt so right.

What they didn't knew was, that Jack, that little rascal, stashed his Romantium ore under Sai's bed! The same ore that had been responsible for Jack and Kiyoshi's woohoo in the Sanctum! Let's hope Sai is never going to find it. Or he will really kill Jack ö.Ö'

'I wanna glide down over Mulholland I wanna write her name in the sky I'm gonna free fall out into nothin' Gonna leave this world for a while Now I'm free (Free fallin', I'm-a free fallin', I'm-a) Free fallin' (Free fallin', I'm-a free fallin', I'm-a) Yeah, I'm free (Free fallin', I'm-a free fallin', I'm-a) Free fallin' (Free fallin', I'm-a free fallin', I'm-a) Tom Petty - Free Fallin'

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