#they had put in me in a role for years that wouldn't have much request for outside there

[heresiae]

one of my closest friends is not in a nice work environment.

I mean, she knew what she was getting into when she joined (some years ago though) but there have been several changes in structure and staff and now it's literally a nightmare.

unfortunately, I know that kind of work environment very well: toxic as the elephant foot of Chernobyl.

I still have lot of PTSD from those days, but I also have lot of tools to help her survive.

when I told her that, she asked me how the heck did I survive (I worked there 11 yrs) and I told her: three mental breakdowns, perpetual burnout and the constant reminder of my bills.

it's not worth it though. I still have habits that suddenly pop out at the less suspicious triggers. I have behavioral reflexes that I can't control till someone tells me that I'm being aggressive or too defensive. I have huge anxiety for things that should not inspire anxiety at all.

do not stay in this kind of environment. couch surfing while searching for another job is way less humiliating and damaging that leaving without a safety net when things get unbearable.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[ellecdc]

Dude, I don't know why I am asking this. But do you think poly moonwater will choose to be child free? I do think so. I mean, regulus past story and remus fury problem, I don't think they'll want kids at all

But if reader accidentally gets pregnant. Do you think they gonna keep their distance an arm lenght? I mean, I remember in the book remus trying to leave nymphadora who's pregnant at that moment (or is it after she gave birth? Can't really remember) by trying to help Harry looking for the idk the name of it, voldemort collections?

oooouuuu this is a fun question! thanks for asking; and I think that happened before teddy lupin was born and they were searching for Voldemort's horcruxes! - also, in regards to canon, I think the reason remus felt willing to take off was because he truly was sort of all alone: no parents, no siblings, no family, no friends. Plus society constantly shitting on him, plus there being a war etc etc, he felt very desperate and didn't feel like he could handle being responsible for nymphadora and a child

But of course since WE DON'T LIVE IN A WOLD WITH VOLDEMORT OVER HERE 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I think this is a valid question

(my answer is going to be SFW until the page break below - I will put warnings ahead of time for minors)

My answer would be yes, I agree that Regulus and Remus would perhaps wish to be childfree. Like you said, Remus feels like society views him as a stain and he wouldn't want to pass that legacy onto a child (biologically his or not), and he also wouldn't want to put a child through the pain of seeing their father suffer through every lunar cycle. Regulus had a horrific childhood and would be very scared to be anything like his mother or father, and I kind of see him as this guy who really doesn't know what to do with kids...he never had a childhood really, and never was around other kids until he was at Hogwarts, and by then he was right traumatized soooo yes I agree, he would be worried about having children.

As for our darling reader finding out she was pregnant? I have some thoughts on that.

I think Regulus has a deep rooted sense of duty and loyalty to his people, and ultimately, Remus and reader would be his people. Even if he hated the idea of reader being pregnant/having his child, I think he would shove that down so deep and just completely take on this role he never really wanted but hey, he's here now and he's going to do what he has to do. It was why he ended up in Slytherin (duty/loyalty to his family), and it was why he took the dark mark (duty/loyalty to his family). He took the mark because he believed that to be his role, his job in life - and if reader ended up pregnant, well, that was his duty then.

I think Remus would be a wild card. Remus never had a proper childhood either; he had to grow up really fast as he was bitten at only 4 years old. This means for as long as he can remember, he's been a werewolf. He didn't get to attend school (due to injuries/pains, scars, unexplained absences etc), he never had siblings, and he couldn't play with the village kids. So not only does he not necessarily know what to do with kids, I think he'd still have some of those "the kid would be better off without me, I can't curse another life to me and my lycanthropy) BUT I think he'd have been around Harry and loved that kid so damn much, and he'd have his friends and loved ones to help him come to terms with it.

This could be a cute fic request.

now.....as for the NSFW stuff (18+, minors don't look down here)

I have this headcanon that pureblood's have a breeding kink....they were literally bred, born, and raised to carry on the bloodline and produce heirs - so I don't think Regulus was fucking innocent in that conception LOL he would have been very excited thinking about spilling inside of reader and getting her knocked up.

in a similar vein, I also believe that there is a primal side of Remus with his lycanthropy which would ALSO support a breeding kink - truly fucks like an animal tbh and gets so turned on at the thought of filling reader up

okay sorry for being a dirty horn dog thanks byeeeee

[ranchstoryblog]

Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!

Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.

Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.

If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.

Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.

Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery

——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?

Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.

Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."

Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.

Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.

Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?

Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.

Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?

Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.

Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!

One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.

Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.

Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.

Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...

Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.

Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.

Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.

Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?

Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.

Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?

Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.

MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time? 

Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.

Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.

Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)

Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)

Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!

Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D

Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.

Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?

Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.

Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!

Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?

Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.

emery flower147 asks: omg  I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?

Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.

Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.

Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.

Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?

Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.

Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?

Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.

———

From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!

[lovelybotblog]

─ iv. sympathy is a knife

summary: For some reason the universe always puts you in an unfavorable situation, a super secret mission with the person you don't want to encounter, you wouldn't achieve, not even if you tried. pairing: Satoru Gojo x female reader content: this bitches are messy asf, you guys are classmates but you don't fw his personality, I would say most of this is angst and also backstory from the reader song of the chapter: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx word count: 6.2k

previous

“y/n, come here,” Sensei Yaga called you behind your back.

You pulled your head out of the classroom you were peaking for any sign of an acquaintance. You went for a nap after your morning class but since then neither Shoko nor Suguru had made an appearance, oddly to the usual, because they always managed to sneak on your bedroom and accompany you in the bed or sitting in your desk and finishing their homework, sharing the warmth of the sunset rays invading your room by the window.

“Follow me.” Your superior orders as you close the door in front of you, you raise an eyebrow when you catch a glimpse of mysteriousness in his movements, but never questioning it. You did the requested, walking behind the big figure of his.

You were getting used to sudden motivational talks and secret training sessions. You have met him before entering Jujutsu High, the first time you remember meeting him was at your parents funeral, ten years ago when Sensei Yaga had just gotten his teaching license. Nowadays, you weren’t really saddened by the absence of your parents, you no longer remembered them as much, they were like fleeting memories. You were too young, and you didn’t remember most of your early years, but the way you saw how your life was getting discussed in the living room of your house by your family and some said friends of your parents was important enough to remember.

"She's too young for us to take her, you know that," you remember hearing Yaga say to your mother's sister.

"Well, she is one of your kind, isn't she?" The woman replied, arms crossed, tears pooling in her eyes. You were never appreciated in that family of non-sorcerers, to them you were the spitting image of your father, the man who led your mother astray. "It will be easier for you to control her than we ever will be, that girl is a bad omen."

You still remembered the repudiation that their eyes expressed, the rejection that they always had towards you, a girl who hugged the empty coffin of her parents because the thing that killed them didn’t even leave a trace of their existence.

Your mother came from a middle-class, non-sorcerer family in the suburbs of Tokyo. It was a surprise to them to learn that their youngest daughter had "diabolical" abilities, though they let it pass because she was a good girl and still had time to be rescued, but that hope was dashed when she met your father and announced her marriage. Your father was a deserted member of the Zen'in clan, a promising sorcerer but considered "weak" by the family when he refused to fulfill the role assigned to him.

Sensei Yaga was their younger classmate, one of his closest friends. He never had the opportunity to meet the daughter of his idols due to a busy schedule, until the assigned mission was to analyze the case of their death.

"It will only be a few years, the father's family is not an option." Sensei Yaga implored, knowing what you would be subjected to if you fell into the hands of the Zen'in. If he had the chance he would have taken you under his protection, but the director had been cautious enough and forbade it. With a pension of high digits he managed to get your mother's sister to agree, but that didn’t prevent the Zen'in from finding your existence and with a larger check you being acquired.

He had never confirmed it to you, but you know that deep down he cares about you. Ever since the checkups he took the time to do on you when you were under the control of the Zen'in clan, where you were neglected by the Old Man, how you always called the person who was assigned to take care of you and train you, but he did nothing but scold you and punish you if you didn't do outstanding right away.

 "Are you going to tell me what's all the fuss about or...?" You inquired, hands posing on the side of your hips in annoyance, one of your feet tapping the floor as you saw your professor close the door of his office then moving to the chair of his desk.

He sighed, you always try to show everyone off with a defensive and calculating position, but that didn't work with him, he had met your scared and childish side. "I have a top secret mission for you." A smirk fighted to escape when he saw your eyebrows extend in curiosity and your eyes shine with hunger, waiting for more information. “This is the direction.” He handed you a paper with his writing on it.

"And what do I have to do?" You asked again, unsure of what to think. Usually they gave you papers with all the information about the case, maybe this was different because it was secret. 

The illusion of having your first top secret mission collapsed when your superior spoke again.

"I entrusted this mission to Satoru Gojo in the morning, as I suppose you have noticed his absence in today's class," Yaga respond, of course you noticed, it didn't need a genius to see the lack of irritating noise and the eyes of a creep on your back missing. "He was supposed to just pick up a package and return, tha assistant assigned to accompany him lost him, you have to find him-"

His words were cut off by the paper he gave you, being irreverent thrown at his desk. "Sir, with all due respect, why don't you find another person to babysit that boy?"

Yaga fought the urge to rant about your generation of brats and troublemakers, always harassing his peace, but he just breathed out, "Because you are the best of your class, and the person I trust to bring back the package and Gojo Satoru." 

"Then why did you send an incompetent like him before me?" You huffed, jutting your hip, leaning forward in an accusative way, he was so lying to your face.

“Ehh? I'm your authority, you shouldn't be questioning me, young lady." The professor pointed out, handing you the paper again. He hoped that would be enough for you to take the case with no-whining about it. You took the paper from his hand, dissatisfied with the situation he was putting you on. 

"Is that all?"

He nodded, dismissing you with a wave of his hand, trying not to chuckle as he watched you give him your back grumbling. He knew he might provoke some riot, forcing you to interact with Gojo. Actually, he didn't even need to give his students the mission. It was just a request the principal had made him, an easy to-do, but Yaga was too fatigued and Gojo was getting on his nerves earlier in the day, so yeah, the first thing that came on his mind was sending him away to a ‘mission he was the only one capable to do’.

You smacked your tongue against your teeth as you got out of the car that took you to the shopping district in downtown Tokyo, passing by Gojo's assistant. You couldn't blame him, your partner was a nightmare to deal with, but because of his carelessness you now found yourself searching for the strongest sorcerer on a street filled with crowds of people.

“Which way did he go?” You asked the assistant without stopping your walk, analyzing the street and the stores in the place. It was obvious that he got distracted from the purpose of his visit, you knew that if he had been attacked he would have easily gotten out of it, so that was not an option.

“Over there," the man replied, an unsettling anxious tone in his voice. He screwed up leaving Gojo alone, and now another sorcerer was sent to finish the job. "But that was hours ago. When I went to look for him, I couldn't find him. I don't know where he could be now. I'm really sorry."

“No worries, and thank you.” You reassured him, trying to put on your best smile to comfort him. You didn't know where he could be either, you didn't know him well enough to know where he could be, he could even have already left.

You continued walking down the sidewalk, glancing at the shops trying to find something that your classmate might be interested in. You were sure that the hardest part of the mission was finding him, but for a moment the option of picking up the package crossed your mind. After all, Gojo would be back that night or the next day, but you couldn't afford to leave a classmate behind. You were tasked with returning with the package and Gojo Satoru.

You chuckled, the universe always managed to get him on the track of your life, it was funny because that was one of the few things you avoided. Then you remembered how Suguru, one break between classes, when you and him were laying in a tree, the shadow of it cooling you from the heat of the sun, your shoulder brushing each other, and the first thing he said to you was, 'Why don't you try to sympathize with him?' 

How could you? He threatened your success, your well being in your family was based on how much you could match his strength, they didn't expect anything from someone like you, you were warned to stay away from him, the reason the sorcerer community was shakened. Yet, you thought that if you were strong, you could live a better life. You didn't needed to gain approval by the Zen'in clan, but you did want to prove that you could be better than what they expected, that you could be someone to fear.

It burned you, it embarrassed you the way you think of him.

You finished browsing the clothing stores without any trace of his cursed energy, you were at the crossroads between the souvenir street and the food street. You would be in a dilemma if you hadn't seen the disgusting way he ate morbid amounts of food.

By now he should be hungry, you wanted to be sure you were right, little by little your annoyance began to increase and if you didn't find him quickly, the news of a whole street being strangely banished was going to be on the cover of the newspaper the next morning.

You had been walking for about an hour, approaching the windows of the shops to get a better look at the people, it was easy to notice a tall mop of white hair. You were really trying to convince yourself that spending so much time with non-sorcerers helped you understand them better, but god- you couldn't help but get irritated, noticing how they worried about such insignificant things, living so naïvely of the world around them.

You were starting to think about the 'what if', you hated those words. Rarely, but sometimes you think about what your life would be like if you weren't a sorcerer, nothing ever comes to your mind.

Almost unnoticed, a Mochis stand flashes in the background of your peripheral vision. A strong feeling hit your chest, suddenly cursed energy was screaming all over the place, that was why you hadn't noticed it from a distance.

You strode down to him, sneaking through the crowd of female vendors surrounding him, offering him samples of all kinds of mochi. Of course you were going to find him in that kind of situation. He was so delighted that he didn't notice you by his side for a few seconds, his arms were scoot with bags of shopping hanging, his hands full of the colorful desert, his round sunglasses slid down his nose.

“Mhmp.” You cleared your throat, both arms crossed over your chest to keep from punching his face off.

You watched as his head slowly turned towards you, eyes closed savoring the sweetness on his tongue and a bright smile plastered on his face, which slowly faded as his eyes took in the person in front of him.

"Is she your girlfriend?" A girl squealed beside him, your face twisted, looking up and down at the man in front of you, muttering a ─ew, no─

“Uhh- I- I didn’t knew you were here too.” He mumbled with rests of mochi stuffed in his mouth. He didn't decided yet if the bitterness that had fallen down his throat was because of the surprise of running into you or because of the annoyance that your face directed at him.

"I'm not supposed to.” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “Do you have the package?” You questioned, hoping that you could return quickly to the comfort of your bedroom. But you weren't that lucky, Gojo's face was lost in confusion, "The package? The thing that you were sent here for?" You asked, raising your tone, but your breath left you when the snow-haired boy popped a mochi into his mouth again. 

"Oh, I forgot. I thought I had the day off." Gojo replied nonchalantly, slowly turning his back to you with a giddy smile, taking out money of his wallet to finally make his purchase.

“Huh? How could you forget that?!” You yelp, the vendors of your sides slowly disappearing from the scene. “"I've had enough, let's go." You ordered, smacking his arm, turning your body to leave as you massaged your nose bridge, a pang resounded on the sides of your forehead.

Gojo glanced at you, then the mochis, “I’m not going to waste my time on this.” He heard you say as you walked away.

The white-haired boy quickly exchanged the money for the box of mochi and bowed to the girls in gratitude, and sorry for the bother with your grumpiness. You are so moody─ he thought, following your steps as he carried the shopping bags on his sides.

When he reached your pace, he tried to read your expression. It was the first time the two of you were out on a mission, it was the first time the two of you were alone. But that didn't seem to bother you for him, you were too busy trying to locate where you were, eyebrows furrowed and your lips pouted in concentration.

He giggled, caughting your attention, enough for you to glance at him pissed off. He ignored it, taking the paper off your hand with the directions, reading it fast as he tilted his head to the street on your right. “C'mon,” He said.

"I have to make a call first." You stopped him, walking over to one of the nearby pay phones, the boy looked at you with a raised eyebrow, confused as to what you were going to do but following you anyway.

You stuffed the money into the slot of the machine and called Gojo's assistant. You grabbed the phone and placed it to your ear, the automated voice playing that your call was being transferred. You tugged your earlobe, facing more at the wall in front of you, avoiding Gojo's gaze.

He put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall next to you, looking away when he noticed what you were doing. His gaze fell upon a group of middle school girls who were watching you from a table outside a cafeteria, giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.

He huffed, his mind rambling about what was so funny about. He sneaked a glance at you, the way your gaze softened when you heard the assistant's voice, telling him that you found him. Then he looked at himself by your side, shopping bags in his arms. Both of you were wearing the same uniform, he guessed that for other people you looked like close friends hanging around after school, then he thinked a little more, boy and girl, you looked like a- He shook his head at that thought, a warmth settling on his neck.

You hung up the phone again and looked at Gojo, being more surprised that you would like when his cerulean eyes were already shining in your direction, "Are we going?" You said trying to keep your tone steady, letting out the air that the interaction had restricted you, you weren't used to looking him in the eyes.

He nodded, guiding you in the direction where you were going to pick up the package, since he was more familiar with the place than you. 

You didn't notice, too deep in your thoughts, but a smile crept onto the white-haired boy's lips. You were walking together side by side, not you walking with a quick pace so as not to see his face, nor you walking too slowly behind him talking to Suguru immersed in your own conversation leaving him aside, this time it was you and him side by side.

When it came to you, you revolted his insides. Always too bratty, too hermetic for him to catch a glimpse of your true self. He could only see your outside, keeping him away with your indifference, something that causes a strong mordacious sting in his chest, bringing back memories of the rejection he received from his clan relatives and most of his upper classmates. But the difference between you and them was that you didn't show any kind of interest in him, neither positive nor negative.

When you passed by him you didn't look at him, and when you did you looked at him without any trace of expression, as if you were seeing a void. Never showing surprise by his ability to easily complete the ridiculously difficult training Yaga-sensei prepared for him, or by the missions he managed to successfully complete in record time.

But over time Satoru managed to notice that it was nothing more than a facade. You weren’t as heartless and blithe as you wanted to appear. He could see the twist upwards the corner of your lips made while hearing Shoko ramble or the way in which your eyes shone when you observed Suguru slowly getting beat by sleep in class. You would never admit it to him, but Satoru could tell how you cared for others from the shadows and secretly always trying to improve yourself.

You both walked in an unusual silence, making your way through the sea of ​​people surrounding you. Your shoes echoed in unison against the stone floor until the sun set and the moon shone brighter under the cloak of the progressive darkness, leading your presences to an uninhabited street, only a couple of shops still in operation. 

An old store that seemed to sell second hand items sat in front of you.

“Are you sure this is the address?” You questioned your classmate, grabbing the paper with the direction off his hand, no specifications of the place to help you.

He huffed, hanging his head in offense, “Tots.”

You entered the place keeping your doubts to yourself, you were no longer in the mood to question what you were doing. The top secret mission had seemed like nothing more than a joke to you, it shouldn't cost a sorcerer of your size so much. But the universe has managed to make the situation oddly inconvenient.

The lighting was poor, the wooden floor creaked with every step, the place smelled like dust and incense burning. You were supposed to just pick up a package but your instincts wouldn't let you let your guard down. There were only two customers in the store, hulky and grotesque looking, without a hint of cursed energy. But you knew too well that it wasn't synonymous of weakness.

Gojo walked behind you, his gaze shifting from object to object without interest, his hands clasped behind his head. When you got to the glass counter you didn't see any worker nearby, a well-polished golden bell shined in your sight and you pressed it. Gojo must have found it amusingly hilarious, because he pressed it not once, not twice, not even three times, but five times until you pushed his hand away.

He laughed out loud, the sound buzzing around the room as he turned around, flipping through a book on an oak shelf for sale. A man's voice echoed from behind a door at the back of the store, ‘coming!’. You couldn't help but prepare yourself for a possible fight, what if there was a misunderstanding and they didn't want to give you the package? Or if the package itself was of extreme importance and tried to steal it? You had to proceed defensively but there was no sign that those present were sorcerers. Even so, the companion on your side was surely going to want to show off if the opportunity arose.

The door opened, your gaze and Gojo's expectant, a hunched, white-bearded old short man smiled at you. Huh? You couldn't figure out what was so super secret about the situation, there were no obstacles to fight or some extreme security to break.

“Oi! The guys with the spiral buttons,” The man greeted you with narrowed eyes, putting on the glasses that rested on his head, realizing that you weren’t, in fact, men at all. "Oops, my sincerest apologies, young lady." He said ashamed under the thunderous and irritating laughter of your companion, who was holding his stomach and pointing at you mockingly.

You glared at him with flames in your eyes and gritted teeth, before returning your attention to the man in front of you. "Offense not taken." You try to answer kindly, faking a smile that only makes Gojo explode more because of the falseness of it. Maybe this is worse than getting covered in sticky curse residue.

“"I thought no one was going to pick it up anymore, I was told that you would come in the morning." The man pointed out the delay with some displeasure. You took the comment like a slap straight on the face, the snow-haired boy progressively quelling his laughter when it turned into embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir. There were some mishaps." You apologized, bowing your head in respect, poking Gojo in the ribs with your elbow to get him to repeat your action.

The old man nodded, waving a hand dismissively, he bent down to open the sliding door of the counter and took out a wooden box with several stamps indicating that it was a fragile product.

"The receipt?" The man asked.

Your eyes widened, you didn’t have it but Gojo quickly reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four and gave it to the man, who stamped one corner and signed it as delivered. "That would be all." 

You cast a quick glance towards the suspicious men, now looking at a restored Nordic clock. If it were any package you would open it to check it, but it was clearly specified that it was secret even for you.

The harder part was finally over. You snapped your fingers at Gojo to carry the box, he clucked his tongue between his teeth and whispered 'Brat' low enough that only you and he could hear, but still he did as ordered. You pressured him from behind, tossing a thank you to the salesman as you walked towards the exit.

You both walked past the ones you thought might be a nuisance but were nothing more than simple shoppers. You were both dismissed by the door bell as it closed behind you. You let go a sigh, stretching your muscles, you don't even remember when you concentrated so hard to numb yourself that much.

“We should-” The sound of your mouth stops when you notice Gojo looking at you with a smirk, his glasses down in his nose bridge giving space to his eyes shining schemingly. “What?” You hiss, nothing good comes after his head flashes a thought. 

“Aren't you curious what this box contains?" He asks you, running his fingers dangerously slowly over the opening of the box. You're about to say a direct no when he speaks again, “It could be a new special tool,” Gojo smiles from hear to hear, a purr longing in his words. Your low lip quivers, a new tool would be a good addition to your training. “What do you think it could be? Definitely not a type of sword, the box is too small."

You take an instinctive step back as he approaches you. “We are forbidden from opening it.”

Deny it, deny it, deny it, you forced yourself to fight his temptations.

"It's most likely a Kunai knife," Gojo ignored your comment, you growled, being intercepted by his right arm daring to rest on your shoulders, heat flooding your body. Your gaze fell on the contact of his hand with your shoulder, his heat poisoning your skin, making you stumble through your thoughts, you pushed him out of you by nature, or sanity preservation.

"But it would be epic if it were shurikens.” You heard him say, the jump in his voice when you looked at him didn't go unnoticed, he seemed as shocked as you were by his recent audacity. It was the first time he touched you, that he got physically close to you even. Gosh- you didn't even call him by his last name. “Didn’t you say you knew how to use them?" He tried to play it off.

His words brought you out of the trance of his eyes, you had never noticed that his glasses hid so much behind. His orbs resembled the bright water of tropical beaches so much, twining to the clear, aquamarine sky. Eyes shining like the reflection of the moon at night.

"Or receiving him at this place is just a facade, you know, because it's top secret." Gojo continued chattering, murmuring the last two words, his usual giddy smile plastered on his face again.

Your expression closed up, you truly were tempted to know the contents of the box but his way of convincing you was atrocious, he was just throwing a bunch of words at you until you gave in. He didn't even need your permission, and if he wanted, he could blame you for opening it.

Although the culprit would be more than obvious.

“Come on, I know you want to." Gojo coo, passing the box in front of your face, you shake your head, eyes closed and arms crossed. He pouted in annoyance but that didn't stop him from finding the truth himself. "Do you always play by the rules? Bo-ring."

You stuck your nose in the air, you weren't a sanctimonious person, but what was in the box was confidential information, you reminded yourself. Gojo looked to his sides and then lifted the lid of the box, eyes shining with excitement and a smile waiting for a big surprise. 

Who were you kidding, you quickly approached to peek at the box.

As if you had witnessed a divine apparition, you raised your gaze to connect with his. Both of you were expressionless and your mouths were gaped, a confirmation that you didn't see wrong.

You both burst out laughing at the same time, as if you were looking at a reflection. Suddenly there were no barriers between you two, the revelation of the content was more outrageous.

It was a Hello Kitty music festival edition tea set.

Why of all the things that could be, it was just the most ridiculous?

If someone had told you in the morning that later you would find yourself laughing with Satoru Gojo, you would have checked-in the person in a psychiatric center for nutso.

Gojo's laugh was partially dismissed when he caught your smile, you were all laid back with the corners of your eyes crinkled, he felt like a warm blanket embraced his body. He was a little intimidated by the way he felt his pride rise at the knowledge that he now shared a memory with you, that he sighed in despair when your voice hummed like a melody from his ears to the cage of his chest.

Betrayed by his mouth his thoughts escaped out loud, "Knowing you could smile like that I would have made you laugh sooner." 

As if you had been threatened with being pierced by a thousand cuts, you stopped dead.

Gojo felt a heat burn on his cheeks, the words stuck in his throat, but forcing himself to play it cool, “I don’t understand why you are always so pressed.” 

Suddenly the atmosphere became bitter, settling into Gojo's body.

You regained your demure posture, weight once again falling on your shoulders, the constant brickbat not to ruin your family's appearance any further by hanging out with anomalies like Satoru Gojo drowning your thoughts. Your smile faded in eyebrows twitched and nose wrinkled, “I don't hope for you to understand.”

He shaked his head, deep down wishing that he could go back in time one minute ago. 

“And if we are gonna talk about understanding, then I could say I don’t understand why you are so obnoxious all the time.” You snapped, an urge to return him the bad taste kicked in you. Contrary to what people thought, you didn’t enjoy fighting meaninglessly.

You knew that Gojo would one day return the pitiful behavior you directed at him, but you didn't expect to be shaken by such childish and insipid words like 'pressed'.

“You know nothing about me or my past, and I have never messed with you for you to try so hard to bother me and make my life difficult,” Your words came out of your mouth without thinking, as if a dam was overflowing without any control, making a direct path towards the destruction of everything nearby. "Because that seems to be what you want, you stand in one place without thinking twice about If you are blocking someone else's path."

You watched as white strands flew in front of his motionless eyes upon you, his mouth gate open to speak, closing again when nothing came out.

His thoughts bounced around with indecision, he didn't mean what he said, no, it was sincere but not worded correctly for you to understand. Then a crack split in his mind, but did you mean what you said? He wanted to know better than he did, that you weren't as deceiving and hurtful as you scratched, but any trace of your smile and the small dose of warmth it gave him left no trace behind when you noticed his presence. Your indifference hunted him down.

It wasn’t disinterest or apathy. Satoru's theory that his Six Eyes weren’t telling anything to him was wrong, his instinct was sending him signals but he simply couldn’t decipher it.

You were like searching for a message in a bottle sunken in the sea.

He would have every right to be angry at being judged and unwanted without reason, but he was looking for more behind that. Since that day when he saw you talking to Suguru, leaning on his shoulder, fully trusting all your weight in him, with your guard down and your expression so soft and attentive to his words, it made Satoru think that the reason for your behavior towards him was something more than simple annoyance or envy.

He'd be lying if he said he was used to being hated and rejected as well as praised and loved, sometimes he could tolerate it more, but you were like hiding small doses of poison in his favorite food.

"Is that what you think of me?" His voice came out more sneering than his expression reflected.

He didn’t consider himself an understanding person, he tried to be until people convinced him that the world owed him for his existence. That if he was born with the purpose of being better than others and protecting them, then he was at a godlike level above them.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your fists clenched, you couldn't figure out if he was still provoking you or if he was trying to hide his thoughts.

"I don't trust someone who is always smiling and whose only method of communication is to piss people off with wordplay.” You added, catching his grin tense. 

You had been watching him from your peripheral vision for as long as you'd known him. Unlike you, he didn't enjoy a serious fight that was open to negative emotions.

"I don’t like you not because you're immature or loud, or because you've been the face of jujutsu sorcery since you were born." Your words meandered in front of the boy, accompanying you as you got closer to him, each step squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe normally. The atmosphere was tense and it progressively closed in even if you were outdoors.

It was twisted the way you could aimlessly shoot your words like bullets to his weak points, but it was more twisted the way he let you keep going just to hear what your perception of him was. As if that would be the key to finding the answers to do the same with you.

He was a better-man than the rest of humanity because he had the power to be worse than any.

“I don’t like you because you were given everything and you don’t seem to take the importance of it, you have every right to not care about it or anyone.”The fact that you were opening your deepest feelings was revolting your insides, your despair crawling weighing on his body.

“Is that so?” He nagged, gripping the edges of the wooden box still between his arms around his chest. Being used so childishly and uselessly as protection from your snipes.

It wasn't just your thoughts about him, but also the emotional discharge you were throwing at him. You were aware that he was not at fault for being the switch-breaker of the community of sorcerers and curses, it just turned out that casualty made both of you meet your paths.

“You represent everything! You are strength and the reminder that weakness exists because you aren't that.” Your voice was raised, piercing his ears, wording him so kindly but also recalling every scolding and reviling surmised to him by everyone who misinterprets him.

"And that's the only thing that makes you oppose me?" 

"Of course not!” You replied, biting your lower lip, hesitant to say what was next, but you were tired of keeping it in. Those feelings wore you down just as his cursed energy consumed his brain, “I'm selfish, I'm ambitious, it frustrates me that we could seem to come from similar and privileged places and at the same time be so different and hurt. I'll never be able to be as skilled or powerful as you, no one else can, I can't aspire much to things that are innate given to you without forgetting my limits."

Your head was pounding incessantly, you didn't know if it was because of the accumulated fatigue or the embarrassment that was growing red and hot on your face.

“But the thing is,” You murmur, stepping closer, the box with the package was the only thing producing space between you, a quick flash of a thought wondered if it wasn’t there, how much would you dare to get close? Enough to slap him? Enough to push him?, “I don’t understand why everyone expects so much from you, because to me you seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him.”

His eyebrows raised, his eyes widened, and his cheeks tinted pink as your pitiful soft gaze fell upon him, intimidating him as if he were a child again. Anyone would think that you were seeing him as a poor thing, as if you wanted to snatch away what he owned, as if you were going to stab him with a dagger out of compassion. 

But he had the ability to see further than others, physically and figuratively. You didn't need to give him more explanations to make him understand, although your actions firstly made him think that you weren't even a little envious of him, they were uncertain, your sincerity led him further into his thinking.

You were real, you were observant and cautious for that very reason, you had become one of the first people that saw him beyond prejudice. You were capable of being human and aware of your weaknesses, and at the same time being governed by reason and morality. He couldn't blame you for keeping your distance with him because his nonchalant and playful mask had been dismantled without him realizing it.

He played his most annoying card, he tried to bring you to the edge of hysteria to test your limits and he never completely succeeded because you were surely just as or even smarter than him, and you were also testing him. 

It didn't bother him that people thought he was arrogant and apathetic, after everything experienced in his lifetime he concluded that not everyone had the capacity to understand the level he was at. 

When the car that would take you back to Jujutsu High arrived, you got in without saying a word or looking at him, not ignoring him because you were mad but because you understood that what you said not only implied your vulnerability, but his as well.

‘You seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him’ He couldn't even get angry or overthink about your raw comments that hurt his ego. For the first time in his life he felt truly seen and he couldn't stop himself from constantly smiling about it.

[dakogutin]

hiiii i just binge read all your fics and obsessed is an understatement!!!

idk if u take requests but i had an idea and it’s driving me crazy i just had to put it somewhere.

okay so i thought of it while reading the fic in which remus and sirius hear each other in bed at night.

well…. james and lily share quarters when tnehre head boy and girl, i know they don’t share a room exactly, but i was thinking: with all their tension building up throughout the years, especially that year, one of them hearing the other even if it was so so quiet would drive them crazy and i’d love to see your interpretation of how it goes.

i really hope you consider writing this but if you don’t thank you so much for all you’ve given the fandom!

ive never been thanked for giving to a fandom🥹🥹thankyousosomuch!

havent written exclusively jily smut yet but this one's for you anon<3

[cw for cute plot but with very filthy m/f smut below cut]

=-=-=-=-=-=

Head Boy and Head Girl. That was definitely one way to have her final year at Hogwarts, Lily thinks to herself. For one, she was forced to work with James Potter often. But the surprises didn't end there as she's progressively making sense of why James Potter became Head Boy.

In the first month she could still deny it, but with their rounds scheduled together, the endless meetings, and their regular check-in with Professor McGonagall, she can't avoid it anymore. James Potter was surprisingly and unfortunately... she shudders... responsible.

She tries-- very hard-- not to let anything show, especially knowing James Potter will run with any reaction he'll get from her. But the realisation hits her harder than a Hex sometimes. And it had been too much lately.

Like that time when they were deciding on which Prefect to assign on the fifth floor corridor. It's where their DADA professor had hidden a "secret special dark creature", and no one was permitted to use that floor for their own safety. The task of keeping that corridor empty fell on the Prefects. Lily had names ready, which included Lupin. She watched James' reaction and sure enough, he protested. He and his gang were always weirdly protective of that quiet Lupin.

"Davies can take Lupin's place."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "No one gets special treatment, Potter. I wouldn't have you use Lupin for whatever kind of mischief you otherwise reserved him for."

Potter held out his palms in the air and let out a small chuckle. "None planned, I'm afraid. Just that Davies is rather, how shall I call it..." He shrugs. "A bit of a pompous sod."

"And you'd rather have a pompous sod keep check of whatever dark creature is in there?"

"If the choice is either that or Peeves, Evans? Yep."

"What does Peeves have anything to do with this?"

As though he was waiting for that exact question, Potter leaned his head on the pillar as an arrogant grin on his face matched his tone. "Lupin is one of the few people who can go toe to toe with Peeves. There's Sirius, but he's out of the question. Not a Prefect and all that. Of course, I'm another option but I'll clearly be occupied, won't I?"

No words come to Lily. He was right. To think she was too caught up with the smaller picture of using Lupin to spite Potter.

"And," James adds, "Davies loves his authority. If anything, students passing by that floor wouldn't think twice in following what he says. While Lupin can help the first years get to their common rooms without being tormented by our resident poltergeist."

It's this point that Lily failed to contain the awe from her face.

"I know. I'm rather brilliant." James waggled his eyebrows.

She simply rolled her eyes in response then.

At present, she couldn't help but have all those other similar instances where James Potter surprised her of his maturity and dedication to his role fill her mind as she went searching for him. He just had to have Quidditch practice at the same time with their meeting, so now the task of passing him the minutes of meeting fell to her as Head Girl.

She could wait until tomorrow of course, but the thought of an unfinished business with James Potter didn't exactly sound appealing. She'd much rather be done with it as soon as possible.

The pitch was empty when she reached it. Practice must've been over. For a moment she dreaded the more complicated prospect of searching for James in the entire castle, but that was when she spotted Sirius Black.

"Where's your other half?" she demanded.

"Evans," he noted. "Good morning to you too." Then he proceeded his steps.

"Black, wait." Lily held out the paper. "Why don't you give him this."

He stared at it for a second, then glanced up to her. "I'm allergic to official documents. Sorry."

"Don't be an arse. I'm just asking you to pass it to him since you're attached at the hip anyways. And it would spare me the trouble of having to look for him."

"Do it yourself." Black grinned. "He's in the changing rooms, doodling the team's strategy like a proper swot."

Lily sighed. "Why can't you do it? Please," she added, begrudgingly.

Black shrugged, already walking off. "I'm not the Head Girl."

He was gone before she could even form a retort.

After dragging her feet to the changing rooms she found it as empty as the Quidditch pitch. Lily debated simply sending her owl, but in the end she decided against it since the Owlery is in yet another tower. She cursed Sirius Black in her head, dismissing this as some stupid prank. Honestly, why hadn't she expected that?

She then heard a distant noise. Someone was inside. Lily proceeded further and was about to call out Potter's name when she recognised the sound of water spraying down on tiled floors.

If this person really was Potter, he was in the middle of a shower.

Lily clamped her mouth shut and cursed Sirius Black again, retracting her steps as silently as possible.

As she turned for the exit she heard a noise from the shower. She thought it had been a hum-- that maybe James Potter was one of those people who sang while showering...

Except it was too faint and too guttural to be a hum.

When Lily heard the noise again, she was more than certain he wasn't singing. The noise shot right through her, leaving a shudder. She needed to leave. Now.

But as another soft moan echoed in the small room, Lily could distinctly tell it was indeed James Potter's raspy voice. And that just made everything worse.

Her face heated as it became harder to breathe. Suddenly all she could picture was James Potter-- just a few steps away-- completely naked, sopping wet... and touching himself. Her treacherous mind reminded her how he's always been showing off about his form and how he worked hard during the summer, plus with playing Quidditch all these years. The thought of that form he worked so hard on right now?

Lily swallowed, and that's when she realised her mouth was watering. She was mortified as much as she found herself frozen. Another moan slipped out from behind her, deeper and gruffer. And just like that her mouth wasn't the only thing that's wet.

She needed to go. She needed to go. She needed to go. "Fuck!" she hissed a whisper. This was wrong on so many levels.

One foot was out of the room when-- she dropped her wand.

Horrified, she didn't waste time picking it up and bolting out. She could only hope James Potter was... too busy... to have heard that.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lily stayed at a deserted hallway overlooking the Great Lake for Merlin knows how long just collecting herself, questioning her life choices, and wondering if she should Obliviate herself. The thing is, distraction was just about impossible. She'd find herself circling back to all those sinful thoughts, and those sounds.

A voice broke through her spiral. She jumped at the unexpectedness but failed to make out the words. Turning to face the person, her knees almost gave out to the sight of none other than James Potter. He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, which only sculpted his indeed very fit form. Why? Wasn't his practice over? Hadn't he already showered? Why did he have to wear that now?

She stared at him for a while and she saw how he was still expecting a response. "What did you say?" she asked dumbly.

Hands shoved in his pockets and grinning slightly, he stepped closer. "I said, are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" "Lily felt her breathing become unsteady once more and internally cursed herself. "And... why would you just come out of nowhere to ask me that? How did you even find me? What do you want?"

"Right," Potter chuckled. "You seem tense."

Lily took a deep breath. "I'm just tired. Look, I only meant to give you this." And finally, she was relieved from her task.

"Thanks, Evans." He said without sparing more than a second's glance at the paper.

"Sure." She then fixed her bag over her shoulder and walked past James Potter.

"Wa- where're you going?" He called behind her.

"Erm..." She hated that she didn't have an immediate reply. Anywhere was honestly better, with all those feelings she'd just shoved down already coming back to the surface as Potter looked at her with those round searching eyes. "My room."

"It's 4 in the afternoon on a Saturday."

"Your point being?"

Potter shut his mouth, whatever he wanted to say was left in his thoughts. "Nevermind."

"Okay... well, I'll see you around." Lily turned away once more.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"The answer is still no, Potter."

He laughed. "Not that." He stepped closer again, taking away the distance Lily just made.

"What is it..." She could smell his aftershave this close.

His glasses were skewed as his eyes scanned her. For the first time Lily felt an impulse to fix it on his nose. "Have you been looking for me?" he asked.

Lily had no idea how to deal with a James Potter like this. He was speaking in a softer voice and he was giving her a gentler gaze. It was far from his usual loud and uncaring tone along with his brazen grin. "I was," she replied. "Just to give you that."

"Right. And you were at the Quidditch pitch?"

She didn't like where this was headed. "Yeah. You had practice, of course that's where I'd look." At that, he simply nodded. "Why do you need to know?" she challenged.

James Potter's grin was back. "Guess I'm just curious."

Don't answer. Don't answer. Don't answer. "About what?"

He shrugged. "How long you can avoid what you know I'm talking about."

Lily decided to play his game. "What are you talking about?"

"Sirius told me he saw you," he said, stepping closer.

Lily held his gaze. "Oh? What else did he say?"

"That he told you where I was."

Nope. She couldn't do it. "Have you no shame?" Lily turned away, her cheeks heating up. "Whatever, okay. I didn't see anything."

Potter broke into a laugh. Of course he had no shame. "I didn't mean to make you... tense."

Still refusing to meet his face, Lily replied, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Evans," he called soflty, "I can tell your face is red."

"Maybe because this topic is largely inappropriate!"

"Alright, sorry," he said with another wave of chuckles. "I'm letting you go now."

Lily sighed in relief. "Thank you." She made one move to head off when Potter spoke once more.

"Just thought I'd let you know, I'd recognise your perfume anywhere."

There was just no way she was getting out of this unscathed. It became clear she should just stop resisting. Lily turned. "So, you knew I walked in."

Surprise was evident on Potter's face. Perhaps he expected Lily to walk away. "Not at first," he admitted.

"But you continued anyway." Lily took slow but consistent steps like a prowling cat, stopping right in front of Potter. He followed her every move with his gaze alone, half-lidded eyes trailed down to hers. "Would you do that if anyone else had walked in?" she added in a murmur.

Potter tilted his head. He had a dazed look, and his lips were parted. "You know I wouldn't."

Already this close, it didn't take much for their lips to meet in a kiss.

A shudder spread through Lily's skin in hearing a pleased but muffled sound from Potter. The thought of drawing more of those sounds from him filled her with dark anticipation. Big warm hands caressed her softly as she tugged on his hair. Too lost with the slick heat of James Potter's mouth, she gasped at the sudden solid brick of the wall against her back. James was crowding her there-- in the middle of the hallway where anyone could pass by and see.

"James..." she mumbled against his lips.

He responded with a groan, strong arms squeezing her. It was remarkably secure in his hold, and she could definitely feel his form. She took a self-indulgent moment to let her hands explore, never leaving his lips. From his sturdy chest to the narrowing of his waist. Merlin, she could do this for hours.

"Mmph..." James let out a deeper moan, and she felt it on her neck. "Lily..." His voice this close to her ear was nothing compared to hearing it in the shower. And for him to moan her name...

Lily's knees threatened to give out, and the certainty of being held firm by James almost convinced her. Instead, the palm on his chest pushed him until their lips were apart. "Not here," she whispered.

James stared at her for a while, still caught in a daze. She watched as her words settled in his mind, dilated pupils scanning her until they widened in realisation. Then, a smirk stretched his swollen lips. He looks as though the disbelief hasn't left him. That this really is happening. In all fairness, Lily couldn't believe it too.

"Wipe that stupid expression away and find us somewhere private, will you," she said with a chuckle.

His smirk stretched into a grin. "Yes, ma'am." He stole one last kiss before stepping back, pulling her with their linked hands.

James led them to an empty classroom. With a wave of his wand the lock clicked, and he was instantly back on her like a starved man, guiding her to the nearest desk. Lily welcomed every kiss before pulling his tight uniform over his head. "You found this room really quickly, huh." She couldn't help but notice.

"Hmm?" His shirt was now off, his hair was messier, and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

Finally, Lily fixed his glasses. "I just said, you seem to always know which places to look. You found me easily too, just earlier. I had to look for you for hours!"

Two blinks until he managed a response. "Oh." He shrugged. "Just... great sense of direction. May I?" he asked, glancing to the buttons of her shirt.

Lily gave him a look. "Since when were you a gentleman?" she said, then proceeded to unbutton herself. Much to her satisfaction, his eyes never left her hands.

"Since," he swallowed thickly, "since you bothered to find out."

"That doesn't make sense." Lily let her shirt fall from her shoulders and perched on the desk.

James' breaths were heavier. "No, it doesn't." His eyes stayed stuck on her breasts. He would lift his gaze to her eyes but they'd constantly fall back down. It was adorable.

With a fond smile straining her cheeks, Lily reached for James' hand and placed it on her left tit. "You can touch me, you know." She then pulled him closer, parting her legs to make space. "I want you to touch me."

A surprised laugh left James' throat. He bit his bottom lip, if only to contain his wide grin. "Fuck, Lily..." James surged forward into a desperate kiss, pressing down until Lily was lying back. Her skirt hitched up until it was now loosely around her waist. She could feel everything in this position, the most prominent being the erection against her own wetness, and the thrilling fact of being separated only by a few layers of clothing.

She bucked her hips impatiently, grinding against James. The groan she elicited from him went directly into her mouth. It's then she zeroed in on one goal. She needed to hear more.

While James' hands were otherwise engrossed with feeling up Lily's tits, she trailed hers downward, reaching for a buckle. James noticed with a gasp and pulled off to shoot her a look of pure want. Hooded eyes, heaving chest, and swollen lips curled into a grin. He was the image of a wet dream.

James watched as her deft fingers unbuttoned him, tugged his pants to pull out his hard cock. It fell right between her legs, sitting on top of the wet patch of her panties. Then, she stroked.

She was rewarded with a shaky moan from the man on top, his head dropped to rest on her neck as she found a rhythm. Right next to her ear, she could hear the shaky sighs and the small whimpers whenever she twisted her wrist just so. Then, an idea popped in her head.

"This was what you were doing in the shower?" she cooed.

"Oh, fuck..." he drawled before dissolving into a short laugh. He rocked his hips, aiding Lily's fist. It caused his cock to graze against her clit. She jolted in surprise just as a moan escaped her lips. "No," James continued, now gazing down at her. "This is infinitely better."

"James..." she whined, pleading. She didn't know what exactly, just that she wanted him to do something.

It's as though she flipped a switch in James' brain. He pulled up from lying on top of her, closed one hand around his cock and used his other to dip inside Lily's underwear, finally sliding his finger through her slick folds. Lily sobbed out a moan, her head falling back.

The finger stopped teasing and finally rubbed her clit. With Lily's mouth hanging open, she reconnected their lips until they swallowed each other's moans. Her hand that was still around his cock started jerking him off in time with his fingers. It prompted James to slip them inside her waiting hole and her other arm instantly flew around his shoulders, gripping tightly to ground herself from the whirlwind of pleasure.

They stayed in that perfect dance for a while as James' fingers tested different angles and eliciting different responses from Lily. When he found that delicious spot inside her, and she cried out from beneath him, he pulled out. Then, he got off her completely.

Before Lily could even form her protest, getting on her elbows to find exactly where he is, she was met with the sight of James getting on his knees between her legs. He delicately slid her knickers to one side-- then licked a stripe up her wet cunt.

Her head fell back down as she moaned hoarsely, a distant thought crossed her mind that hoped no one passed by this classroom, but it was quickly replaced by that same wave of arousal when she felt two fingers slip inside her again.

Just as she'd thought it couldn't get any better, James would moan-- and the vibrations went directly where his mouth kissed and sucked. It was too much.

"James!" She panted. "James, fuck, I'm... I think I'm go--" But James wasn't interested in helping her finish her sentence, speeding up his fingers, sucking harder, and moaning louder. She didn't stand a chance. Lily came in waves and waves, writhing in place as she was powerless to James' firm grip.

When the high subsided and she felt one with her body again, she didn't waste time pulling James up to his feet and smashing their lips to a heated kiss. Her hands crawled to his neglected cock, hot and leaking, and stroked him with all the intent to see him fall apart. His jaw fell slack and all he could do was turn into a mess of whimpers and groans.

A twitch in her hand told her he was close, and then he was coming a rope of hot white on her. It seemed forever that he recovered from his peak. "Fucking hell," he said after taking his first breath. "I don't think I came this hard in my life." He shook with laughter. The sight prompted a surge of emotion in Lily's chest that she couldn't help but drag him back into a long kiss.

The only coherent thought in her head was this couldn't be the last time this happened. "Ask me again, Potter," she said breathlessly, fixing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose.

It took him a long while to figure out what she wanted him to say, until finally, he grinned. "Lily Evans, will you go on a date with me to Hogsmeade?"

She mirrored his grin. "I'd go on a date with you wherever, James Potter."

The elation on his face could light up the entire castle on Christmas day. He let out one huff of laughter before collapsing on top of her and drowning her in kisses.

[heartofjasmina]

kindly requesting anythinggg smutty with suguru. big bro, daddy, dad bf, roommate, best friend, smth else… idc honestly. i just wanna see reader (not me 🫣) get ruined by his massive [yikes] pls and thx.

- bunny ♡

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND <3

::

Big brother Suguru who's only few years older than you, but takes his role seriously.

"Big brother's come first right?" He'd always remind you of the words you'd loudly declared a few years ago when you were still in highschool, angry that he wouldn't take you to prom. "That means I have to protect your firsts, as I was commanded by my lady." The way he teased you always made your pussy flutter.

So when he finds you at a Halloween party dancing with some loser who has his hands all over you, he loses it. Drags you to the car despite your embarrassed protests growling, "Brother's come first. That means I'm taking one of your firsts before you get the wrong idea from these morons."

That night he shows you the pleasure you deserve, not some half assed one night stand where you barely cum at all. "Young guys don't know how to take their time with a pretty thing like you," he says as he feeds your hungry cunt his long, elegant fingers. You're already dripping- barely believing you're getting what you've wanted all these years. "Don't worry, big brother's gonna show what sex should be like. Your first will be good, I promise."

And it was, you were in his lap, slowly taking more of his cock into you until you felt like he was in your throat. He was so big and thick it made you tremble like a leaf in his hold. "That's it princess, just relax." His fingers on your clit had you taking the rest of his shaft, the gush of your juices easing the way. "See? You took all 'o me. Such a good girl you are."

Suguru knows he shouldn't be enjoying this so much, shouldn't feel a fierce pride in knowing he's the first to be inside you. But he is. And if that means he's going to hell so be it.

You rock against him slowly at first, getting used to feeling him inside you. But then you start to bounce and your head goes fuzzy. Your coordination is poor and Suguru has to put his massive hands on your hips. He lifts you and starts thrusting into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars with each stroke.

"Cum inside, inside brother please!" You gasp out when you feel his cock thicken inside you, his heavy balls aching to fill you up.

"Fuck, alright, gotta give you the full experience right sis?" He grins sharp and hungry as he finally, finally leans forward and kisses you as he cums.

Its such a large load you feel deliriously sure you're gonna have his baby. That sends you over the edge as well and you collapse, filled and content in his arms.

[idyllic-affections]

hmm thinking about the recent trend with sibling xiao recs, what about if he has zhongli babysit one day? just some kind fatherly zhongli for the soul…

fatherly inclinations.

summary. zhongli takes on a fatherly role over xiao's younger sibling figure.

trigger & content warnings. brief references to implied violence.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. zhongli & reader, (implied) xiao & younger sibling!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. the way i had to literally dig this request out of my inbox..... it was all the way at the bottom....... the triple digits are getting closer every day LMAO but anyway. just know that if you have sent in a request, i promise you it does cross my mind every once in a while. anyways fatherly zhongli is very good for the soul!!!!! it is important to get your daily recommended dose of kind dad-like old man zhongli <3333

i believe zhongli has a number of fatherly traits to him, whether he realizes it or not... but of course, i also think he is aware of it.

he is—or more accurately, was—rex lapis, after all. surely it wasn't uncommon for him to be seen as a fatherly figure? the people of liyue looked up to him as one when he was a god, so it isn't like it's a new experience for him or anything.

he's used to it, but that doesn't mean he feels any less endeared by people who deem him as such! it happens often, but he never ceases to feel a parental warmth when it does happen. perhaps it has something to do with his more... dragon-like instincts.

whatever the case may be, he isn't at all bothered by being seen in such a familial way. in fact, he's quite fond of it.

so, inevitably, he would naturally take on that kind of role over his own beloved son's yaksha's younger sibling figure.

...though, as good of a father figure as he is, i think he would be a little bit of a boring person for those not interested in his lengthy history rambles.

but assuming xiao's sibling is interested, for the sake of this post—

he's happy to tell them about anything they'd like to know. if they have questions about liyue's history or about the times when the other yakshas were alive, he's completely alright with telling them his tales... excluding the more violent and grotesque details, of course.

(something tells me he wouldn't want to ruin their image of him, but... he's sure they know part of the truth. they don't say anything about it, so neither does he.)

i think zhongli has a handful of funny stories about xiao, which he totally tells the yaksha's little sibling about. he doesn't mean to embarrass the poor thing! it's more of a wistful, fond nostalgia thing for the ex-archon. now, cloud retainer or madame ping on the other hand...

well. their stories would certainly come with the intention of being teasing, but zhongli is not either of those people. he does it because he's just very fond of those times.

if they're interested in doing something or spending their time somewhere, zhongli will just borrow mora from childe to make it happen LMAO

he'll also take them out to eat with that mora and let them get whatever they'd like <3 it's not like it would put a huge dent in childe's savings, anyway, so it's fine.

(to be honest, childe would probably be especially happy to share if he knew zhongli was using it to spoil a kid. he's just that kind of guy, you know? it shouldn't come as a surprise, given that he has little siblings of his own.)

AND AND AND consider zhongli telling them about liyue's native plants and flowers... he'll explain their symbolisms, how those meanings have evolved over time, what conditions they need to grow properly, etc etc. if they made him a flower crown, he would proudly wear it btw.

he likes sharing information, you know? it's something of a love language.

he's seen so much. he knows so much.

why should he withhold that information, those thousands of years of wisdom, from the people he loves? the way he sees it, maybe one day the information he shares will be of use.

[name] may not be his child biologically or legally, but he sees them as one of his own all the same, just as he did the yakshas and just as he does to the one who remains.

and, you know, if they happen to fall asleep at the end of the day on his shoulder, i don't think he would mind. he'd just lean over, gently kiss them on the temple, adjust their posture so that they don't wake up sore, and kindly murmur with all the tenderness to be expected of a man such as himself, "sleep well, little one."

perhaps xiao comes to find them and take them home, or perhaps zhongli takes them.back to wangshu inn himself.

whatever the case may be, they will be returned home safely.

nothing will get to them with zhongli around.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[omgkatherine01]

Hey! Can I ask a one shot where lo'ak goes hunting at night and finds a newborn abandoned babygirl about to be attacked by a creature, and he saves her and soothes her crying by rocking her gently on his chest? Then maybe he could bring her to his parents and the family would adopt her, and lo'ak could not leave her side (always holding/kissing/cuddling her) since the day he found her and they would become an adorable sibling duo?

Note: So... I'm writing it as a reader one shot.... which it isn't really a one shot that I'm used to, I feel like I'm suck at this, but oh well, hope it turned out okay and it's just me feeling it 😉

Note 2: And didn't know where to stop at this, so.... 😑

The Youngest Sully

Pairing: Sully family x Adopted!daughter!reader

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

On the day you were found out there, a baby screaming which attracted not only Jake Sully and his son, Lo'ak, to your location but also creatures, which one of them was a viperwolf.

That creature would have eaten you if Lo'ak and Jake didn't show up and got rid of it. You wouldn't stop crying until Lo'ak picked you up and held you against his chest.

On that day, his life and his family changed.

You seemed to have been only a few days old and with no one claiming you, Lo'ak's family took you in.

With Tuk been older than you by three years, you were the youngest Sully. You grew up to have a close bond with everyone in your adoptive family, especially with Lo'ak.

Despite Neytiri and Jake weren't your true parents, you were sharing Neytiri's gentle and nurturing spirit, and taking care of small animals and plants that you would come across. But you were also sharing Jake's adventurous spirit and love for exploration.

You had a mischievous streak, enjoying pushing boundaries and testing the limits, much to the dismay of your older siblings who often find themselves having to rescue you.

Neytiri was a nurturing and caring mother, she always made sure to spend as much time with you as much as possible, playing around, teaching you things, and taking you on adventures in the forest. She was overly protective of you, always making sure you stay safe and are not put in any unnecessary danger. Your bond with Neytiri was very strong, with you looking up to your mother as a hero.

Your relationship with Jake was of a father and daughter of course. Jake was always there to support you and encourage your curious nature. With you, he was patient and understanding, always taking the time to listen to your thoughts and concerns, just like with Kiri and Tuk. Despite his tough exterior, Jake had a soft spot for you and would do anything to make you happy.

Neteyam was a role model for you, setting a good example and always looking after you. He show a lot of patience towards you. You would enjoy spending time with Neteyam, following him around, and trying to imitate his actions sometimes. He would be like another dad to you.

Lo'ak, been the one who sometimes causes trouble, have always been cautious when you were around and since that day he and his father found you, he hardly really let you out of his sight. But when he wandered off, he made sure you weren't following him around to dangerous places.

But he couldn't always stop you, because just like Tuktirey, you were bubbly and energetic, and always eager to follow your siblings on their escapades on Pandora.

You and Lo'ak shared a very strong bond since that day he found you, at every cry he was there to calm you down; rocking you gently to his chest, holding your hand (especially on your first try on walking), cuddling you when you couldn't sleep.

Kiri was a constant companion, showing you Pandora and teaching you about the ways of the Na’vi. She was a nurturing and protective older sister, often helping to take care of you and looking out for your well-being. You were sharing her strong connection to nature and animals, always looking for new creatures to add to your collection of treasured trinkets and mementos.

Tuk, been older than you by three years, took her responsibility as a big sister seriously, which in your parents' eyes was very adorable. Since you learned how to walk (and ran) she followed you around to make sure you were safe. She, like your older siblings, was very protective over you.

[fakeagatha]

Could you do a cute one shot or headcannon of reader and Agatha baking together?

Like maybe one of then isn't the best so the other has to help?

Icing | Agatha Harkness x Reader

A/N: Hey anon! So firstly I want to apologize profusely for taking almost a year to get this done for you, I've been distant from Tumblr, and even though I had the fic as a WIP, I couldn't find the time to complete it, but it's finally done!

Summary: Agatha wants to start baking again, and requests your help. The only problem is that you have no idea how.

Word Count: 864

TW: Minor swearing?

Ever since you and Agatha started portraying your roles in Westview, it gave you and your wife a chance to take up new hobbies and activities, since you had to pretend to be held captive in the fantasy as well.

Agatha was next door, and Wanda was baking some sort of Sokovian pastry for the twins.

Being a 300 year old witch, Agatha has a lot of experience in almost everything, of course. One of them being baking, since she has generally done a lot of that in her life. She hasn't baked in years, and she was inspired by the redhead.

So that's why you found her in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets as you came home from your walk.

You approached her, looking around at all the open cabinets. "So, what's up with all this?" You chuckled.

"It's all Wanda's fault. I want to bake again, I haven't done it in years!" She exclaimed, "We need to go shopping." She added.

You raised an eyebrow at her "Why not just... Use your magic?"

She simply glared at you, shaking her head. "I want the full experience." She grinned, and grabbed your arm as you walked to the car.

You looked at her in amusement, not protesting whatsoever as you entered the passengers seat.

Not even a minute on the road, and she was singing "Sweet Child of Mine" at the top of her lungs as it blasted on the radio. You do regret your life decisions sometimes, but you wouldn't change it for the world.

Westview's local grocery store only has specific things in stock at certain times. Thankfully, since you had decided to go at the time you did, there were baking products.

It was frustrating when Agatha wanted to make a meal, but Wanda hadn't stocked the shop with the ingredients she needed, just because her so called best friend didn't currently need them.

Your luck was fine, so that's when you found yourselves picking up a lot of supplies, a bit too much, just in case it took a while for the next stock.

Your wife had picked up some bags of flour, sugar, baking powder, some cake mixes, and pretty much anything that was baking related.

"Your total comes to 376 dollars."

Agatha looked at the cashier for a moment, "Sure..." She smirked.

Let's just say you only paid 10 dollars, after she used her powers to manipulate the woman behind the cash register.

As you arrived home, the witch placed the five shopping bags, which you weren't allowed to carry, onto the table, and grinned.

"This is perfect!" She exclaimed.

You kissed her on the cheek, and helped her unpack everything.

You smirked, "Of course."

She sighed after everything was put in its place, before thinking for a moment.

"Do you like cupcakes and cookies?" She suddenly asked.

You blushed slightly, "I actually have no idea how to bake..." You admitted, shrugging.

She beamed, and used her powers to bring over the ingredients, along with some cooking essentials.

"Right, we're making strawberry and chocolate cupcakes with cookie toppings and sprinkles, as well as some red velvet cookies, and you're going to help me." She demanded, grinning.

Agatha's smile grew, and took you by the hand over to the counter next to her. "There's a first time for everything!"

The purple witch pulled out a baking tray, inspecting it slightly before placing it on the counter. You handed her the dough, which the two of you had made together, attempting to make various shapes.

You shaped out a cat for a cookie, you think, it could've been a cow, or even a lizard. You weren't quite sure about the answer. Agatha on the other hand, had somehow managed to perfectly sculpt a rose.

Agatha then turned to you, grinning, "Now we get to make the icing!" You smiled back at her, allowing her to guide you.

She handed you a bag of flour, and you carefully took it, and attempting to pour it into the bowl Agatha had set out in front of you.

Most of what you were supposed to put in had fallen out or ended up on you and Agatha's face.

"Oops..." You looked at Agatha, who was completely covered in flour.

Half an hour later, after adding the toppings and finishing up, you finally put the cupcakes into the oven, as Agatha took off her messy apron and smirked. "Most of this mess is your fault," She chuckled, and you rolled your eyes while smiling.

"You know I'm crap at baking!" You whined, and she laughed again, "I know, I know. But I'm so happy that you tried for me anyway!" She beamed at you, and you kissed her cheek as you smirked.

When you heard the alarm of the oven going off, you quickly turned it off, taking the tray out and placing it on the counter top to cool down. "They look great!" You exclaimed, and your wife nodded in agreement. "I'm quite surprised that the shapes turned out so good." She replied.

You both took a cupcake, admiring the mini cookies and sprinkles that you had added, and took a bite. You weren't sure what to expect, but they tasted just as good as they looked, and the same went with the cookies.

Agatha then smirked, "Next time, we're making a cake!" 

[nvoirs]

I sent a request as an anon but I forgot you turned those off for a lil bit lmfao anywho could u do Leon x a goth reader trying out new kinks or not so new kinks??? I feel like this would either be best with re2 Leon or re4 cause I feel like re2 Leon wouldn’t rlly have that much experience but re4 on the other haanddddd idk but I love ur writing sm !!! If ur not comfortable with this that’s totally fine!!! Tysm<33

Disclaimers: 18+ NSFW content, kinks, just a bunch of filth that you should be warned beforehand before reading.

Note: This was a very curious request of mine, I just want to let everyone know I'm not really aware of the goth fashion and I am totally aware the way you dress does not determine your kinks!

with re2 Leon

With a much younger version of Leon he would be nervous to ask literally anything about what you like.

But you'd show him!

re2 Leon in my opinion would be a subby boy, he'd let you do all the work.

Bondage - Spanking/whips is a big one. Leon loves to hold still why you slap his soft ass for being a naughty boy for cumming without your permission. You wouldn't go as far as to leave severe bruises, but red marks were always given.

Roleplay - is done where your in the more dominant role. Leon loves when you dress as a sexy nurse, secretary or teacher.

Somnophilia - After an exhausting day on the job Leon would come home tired but seeing you half naked with nothing but your panties and one of his old college tees does something to him. He can't help but use you while you sleep, can he?

Praising - Leon loves to be praised. Good boy your doing so well for me, would have this man acting up in ways you've never seen before.

Cockwarming - It's relaxing for the both of you after a long day of not seeing each other. Leon likes filling you up and staying like that for so long.

Oral - He prefers to go down on you then reversed. He loves eating you out so much! Leon gets drunk of the taste of you.

-

with re4 leon

oh boy oh boy has his kinky side changed a little with you.

Outdoor sex - Whether It's in a bathroom, on the beach, in a pool Leon gets of to the idea of fucking you in public.

Size - He had a major size kink, especially after he put on pounds of muscle on from his years of training with the government.

Breath play - Who wouldn't want to be choked by Leon and his bulging biceps? You would! And you let him loving the way he looks at you when your losing air.

Toys - Just tell me that Leon wouldn't shove a vibrator inside of you, controlling it when you both went out to dinner with friends.

Degradation - Loves when he calls you slut, whore, bitch etc.

Hair pulling - Pull his hair! This man will go feral.

[mxssingmemories]

I Think I’m Finally Clean

Pairings: Aaron Hotch x daughterfigure!reader, Derek Morgan x daughterfigure!reader, Spencer Reid x daughterfigure!reader, Penelope Garcia x daughterfigure!reader

Warnings: GRAPHIC description of self-harm, lots of crying, reader gets better I swear

Summary: You work at the BAU and you've been having a rough time. You fall into old habits, but the team is there for you. This follows the road to recovery! Set in season 1.

A/N: this got a little too real, too fast, so i apologize if the writing is a little sloppy. this hit home for me. please take care of yourself-if you feel like this will trigger you, please don't read it. my dms are always open.

Also, I promise I'm working on the requests-this was just 3/4 finished :)

Word Count: 2.4k!

You'd been having a shit day. Everyone in the office knew this and were on the lookout, but Hotch was more concerned than he normally would've been. He was trained to not show too much emotion on the outside, but he'd taken you under his wing for a reason. He tended to watch your behavior more often than he did the others. This, in turn, meant that he almost always knew when something was up with you.

This day was particularly bad, he observed. You'd been down all day, your usually smiling face either looking down or with a frown on it. You didn't seem happy at all, which was strange for everyone on the team—Hotch, especially. He knew you had mental health issues in the past, but there was always a way for him to cheer you up. Today, however, nothing worked. He'd given you a few hugs, which he knew you loved; Derek had been extra caring with you today; hell, Garcia had even brought you cupcakes! No matter how hard the team tried, they couldn't wipe the frown off your face. They spent all day worrying about you, and it didn't help when you disappeared to the bathroom for thirty minutes. After ten, everyone was anxious—Hotch was practically pacing, Spencer and Derek were sending worried looks towards the door you exited out of.

Of course, the team knew as much of your history as Hotch did- it was one of the first things they'd found out about in your file. Honestly, after being on the team for four years (and, of course, being the baby), they knew you better than you knew yourself. Spencer, Derek, Garcia, and mostly Hotch did their best to take on a family role for you. It was evident in the way they acted around you that they cared, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. Their gentle touches, reassurances, and comfort—it was all more than you thought you'd have when you got kicked out and started training for this.

As the time passed, they got more and more worried. Everyone was tense. The case that they'd been previously "working on" lay untouched on the table, multiple pairs of eyes staring at the door to the restroom. They were waiting, watching, and hoping for you to come back into the break room before they had to intervene. Hotch had a theory in the back of his mind about what had happened, but he kept pushing it back. It wasn't possible, right? It had been two years since you'd-Nope. No. He cut himself off right there. Worrying too much was only going to make the situation worse.

The atmosphere in the room got more and more tense, the silence stretching on for what felt like hours. There was a silent debate going on about how long they could wait until they burst into the bathroom. A minute later, Hotch stood up abruptly, walking briskly to the restroom door. Derek and Penelope tried to get up to follow, but Spencer stopped them with a shake of his head.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay in here?" Hotch knocked, pushing on the door lightly when he heard a small whimper instead of an answer.

"I'm coming in, kiddo," he quietly said, pushing open the door. He shut it behind him, taking a deep breath before turning around to face you.

To put it shortly, there was blood everywhere around your arms—obviously, self-made cuts were fresh and bleeding moderately heavily.

"Fuck, sweetheart, what happened?" Hotch whispered."I-I don't know. I couldn't help it, it won't happen again, I swear-" You tried to reassure, breaking down into tears before you could finish the sentence. Hotch immediately gathered you into his arms, his parental nature showing through.

"Shh, it's okay, honey; you're going to be okay," he reassured, rocking you back and forth. He put your fingers on his wrist, allowing you to feel his pulse point. Strangely, it helped you calm down.

When you started to breathe a little easier, he pulled back. Pressing his forehead against yours, he brushed some of the tears off of your face, using his sleeve to wipe some snot under your nose. You both stayed like that until you stopped crying, the situation at hand temporarily forgotten as he held you.

"Okay, Y/N/N," he said softly, pulling back a little bit. "I'm going to get the first aid kit. It's right under here, sweetheart." You nodded at his statement, signaling that it was okay for him to detach himself from you.

He grabbed the first aid box out from under the cabinet, pulling out the alcohol wipes, bandages, and gauze.

"This is going to hurt," he warned you, unwrapping the gauze and sterilizing the wounds on your arm. You winced slightly, even though he was being as gentle as he possibly could. He tossed the wipe in the garbage can, pulling out the gauze and bandages next.

"You know we're going to have to do something about this, right?" His question made you tear up again.

"Can we do it tomorrow?" you asked, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt him nod and continue to apply the bandages. He finished rather quickly, and it was time to face your teammates once again. You were very hesitant—you had no idea how they'd react.

"Can we stay here for a minute?" you asked quietly, your voice dropping its volume. Hotch nodded, and he let you climb into his arms once again. He did his best to be careful of your wounds. They were bandaged, sure, but he hated the thought of you in pain at all. He hated the thought of him being the one to cause it even more.

As you moved to walk out the door, he stopped you. He was holding his jacket out to you.

"Just in case," he smiled, opening the door. His hand wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting manner, and his face shot down any questions about what had happened. He led you to the couch on the other side of the room and laid you down as quietly as he could.

"If you need me, call me, okay? I'll be right over there, with Spence and Morgan." He reassured you, planting a quick kiss on your temple. You silently let your eyes close, the stress of the past hour catching up with you.

You awoke thirty minutes later to the sound of chatter in the other corner of the room, a small smile making its way onto your face when you realized Derek was fake flirting with Penelope again. You forced yourself to get up and walk over to your desk. Everyone's eyes immediately turned to you.

"Y'alright, kiddo?" Derek asked, making eye contact with you. You nodded at him, not trusting yourself to speak right then. Your head dipped down as you focused on the paper in front of you—yet another unsub you were trying to track down. He was a bit confused by your lack of response, but with a look from Hotch, he decided to let it go. That didn't stop all eyes from being on you as you worked on your paperwork, though. When it became clear you weren't going to say anything, they all did their best to turn their attention away from you.

Eventually, your sleeve rode up. It exposed the wide bandage on your arm, along with a few cuts that were peeking out. You hadn't noticed yet. Derek, however, definitely did. His eyes widened immediately, almost choking on the coffee he was drinking. The chair squeaked loudly on the floor as he stood up abruptly. Concern covered his face, eyebrows tight, and body tense. He gently grabbed your shoulder and led you into Hotch's office, despite the loud concerns from everyone. The minute the door closed, he pulled you into a tight hug. Realization crossed your face, and you started sobbing into his shoulder for the second time that day. He only held you tighter, his head resting on top of yours. The room was silent except for the occasional loud sob from you.

"Please tell me if you ever feel like doing that again. Please, kid. I can't let you go through that again," he pleaded, breaking the silence. You nodded and fell back onto his shoulder.

He eventually picked you up and brought you over to the couch, letting you lay down on top of him. You wrapped your body around him, desperate for the comfort this gave you.

Derek stayed with you like that until the door opened softly, Spencer and Hotch walking in.

"Hey, sweetheart," Spencer said softly, walking over to the couch quietly. "Pen's on the way with a soft blanket, m'kay?" He sat down beside you two, Hotch following suit. The second they got settled, Penelope walked in with the promised blanket in hand. She laid the blue fleece blanket on top of all of you, then sat down herself. It took a minute for you to adjust—four bodies on a couch meant for three was a lot—but you eventually got settled.

You ended up with your feet in Penelope's lap, your head in Spencer's, and Derek and Hotch holding the rest of you. Derek was rubbing your back, and Spencer was playing with your hair. All of the negative thoughts from the day went away as you were surrounded by the love of the people you cared about most. You knew you were going to be okay, though—you had your people with you.

----------------------------------------

You walked into the room all smiles, happier than you've been in months. Everyone noticed, and boy did they love it.

"What's got ya smilin', sugar?" Derek teased, hopping out of his desk chair to give you a quick hug.

"Can we get everyone in here, please?" You asked him, smiling even wider. He nodded quickly, gathering Hotch, Penelope, and Spencer. They all stood facing you, and you were practically shaking with excitement.

"I'm one year clean!" You shouted, and the minute you said that, they all gathered around you in a group hug.

"Shit yeah! I knew you could do it, angel!" Derek laughed, pulling you into his arms and lifting you up, spinning you around. Spencer and Hotch did the same, laughter ringing around the bullpen loudly.

"Can we have a party? Can we PLEASE have a party?" Penelope yelled, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's not worth a party, though," you tried to argue, but Spencer immediately put a finger to your lips as Hotch spoke.

"Garcia, if you can get everything..you need?" He trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. "In thirty minutes, we can do a party." His words were accompanied by a resounding cheer from everyone, which brought back the grin on your face.

"Alright, alright," you said, feigning annoyance. The smile on your face betrayed you, though.

Penelope walked in the door thirty minutes later. White bags were hidden behind her back as she walked discreetly to the break room. You were held captive in Hotch's office by Reid and the other men were sent outside to "assist in the festivities." You sat there talking to Spencer for about ten minutes before the men-boys, apparently, burst into the room and dragged you to the break room.

The table was decked out in a purple party cloth, with four plates in spots for everyone. The lighting was dim, and blinds over windows were pulled shut. Cupcakes were being sat out on the table for everyone to choose from, and your favorite soda was sitting by each person's plate.

"Pen, this is too much," you smiled, grateful tears in your eyes. She whined and pulled you into her side.

"No tears on your big day!"

She led you to your chair of choice, and Hotch pulled out the chair for you, planting a kiss on your forehead as he did so. Penelope placed cupcakes on everyone's plates, putting a bright blue candle on yours.

"So I know I have a few things I wanna say; does anyone else?" She asked, and when everyone's hands shot up, she positively beamed.

"Hotch, you can go second, then Derek, then Reid," she decided, pointing her fingers at everyone.

"I just want to let you know how happy I am for you. I know what your brain is thinking right now—you don't think you deserve any of this. Well, news flash—you do. You deserve everything right here and more, and I am so, so elated that I got to help and see you get better. I love you, kiddo!" She smiled, effectively ending her speech by sitting down and taking a drink of her soda.

"My turn," Hotch began. "It has been such a pleasure to know you, Y/N. It was terrifying to walk in on what I did that day, but to see you come so far..? It's something I've been hoping to see for so long. I am so proud of you, and things will get better from here," he said, sitting down with tears in his eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," Derek smiled, making eye contact with you. " You know that this is absolutely amazing, right? You're such an inspiration to everyone on the team, and you impress me every day. The fact you made it this far says a lot about you and your character, and it reminds me every day how lucky I am to know you. I never stop thinking about you—you're like my kid, y'know? I am so proud of you. What I said that day still goes no matter what happens." he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as Reid stood up.

"Y/N. I've known since the day I met you that things would be tough. You know what you've shown me, though? No matter how hard things get, a person can always push through. You are such an awesome person, and you've taught me so much—which is more than I can say for most of the people in this room," he joked, causing you to laugh through your tears.

"We love you, kid." Hotch reassured you, everyone finding a way to hug you in the semi-crowded room. The pressure grounded you, and you pulled away a minute later.

Penelope lit the candle, and cheers were heard from the whole BAU as you blew it out. You were more content than you'd ever been in your whole life that day. Being surrounded by all the love and support made that day one of your happiest memories, and you wouldn't trade your crazy family for the world.

[chasedbyatlantic]

nightclub love, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — your best friend, maria miller, sets you up with someone she knows you'll fall in love with in no time, despite it being your co-worker.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, gender neutral!reader, slow burner-ish, maria love, dom-ish!joel, cutesie patootsie dina, drinking, touching-ish, swearing. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.9k

a/n: should i make a pt 2?? love this one icl! remember to reblog, like, comment, and follow for updates!! also make sure to send requests! xoxo.

—

For weeks, you had been preparing. Maria, your best friend, had begged and begged you to help with her famous (and upcoming) Summer Solstice Party. Every year since Jackson had been up and running (and Maria was in charge), she hosted this party. She had aimed it to be a night of normalcy, a night to remember what had happened before the world went to shit. It was successful, these parties. You had enjoyed the partying aspect of it, not so much the setup.

In your post-apocalyptic life, you were a painter. You had lived and breathed art, you had even got into MIT for the arts program, but the world ended before you were able to start your post-secondary tour. Though, after everything happened in the early two thousands, you discovered your hidden talent for hunting, and being able to operate firearms quite easily. This lead you to many successes in protecting yourself while you were out on your own, and being able to protect others while leading them outside of the Jackson walls.

Maria had appointed you as the co-leader of the "Jackson Protectors" (something Tommy, Maria's husband, had came up with). After Maria had her baby, Tommy had decided to step down from the role to spend time with his family, and make sure he was always there for his newborn baby and his wife. Maria had only thought of you for the person to step up and take on such a big responsibility, so she didn't really give you a choice in co-leading the group. You hadn't minded, though, it was nice to get out of the walls.

Maria's annual party was only a few hours away now, and you had finally brought over the piece she asked you to make. It was an oil and acrylic painting of the beloved town you all had resided in, she wanted to put it behind the bar (in the town's pub, called "The Nightclub"), so that everyone was able to see the beautiful artwork you were able to create so easily.

"Hello?" You called out as you pushed open the wooden door with your foot, your arms were too occupied carrying the canvas that your foot was the next best option to get the door. There wasn't a response, so you had just proceeded in. Glancing around, you had seen that the bar was turned into a nice hall. Tables were pushed to the outskirts of the room, chairs had pieces of colourful string tied on the backs and legs, the stage was decorated, everything felt so warm.

You had moved your way over to the bar, spotting a tool kit sitting on the counter. It was perfect, you could hang this now and have it be a surprise for Maria whenever she went in the room next. Tucking the canvas under your arm for a split second, you went behind the bar and reached into the tool kit. You had gotten a few flat-head nails out, along with a mallet. You had lined up the nails along the middle of the empty space on the wall, gently nailing them in before hanging your painting up.

Before you could double check that it was nailed in straight, you heard an 'eek!' coming from behind you. You could only recognize it as your best friend, Maria Miller. "Oh my god! It's the most beautifulest thing I have ever seen!" You felt the girl embrace you from behind, this made you fold your arms upward and return the hug (without turning).

"Was nervous ya' wouldn't like it." You chuckled as she let go, you turned around. "Wouldn't like it?" Maria had questioned, "Are you kidding me? I love every piece of art you do." She embraced you in a proper hug now, and you hugged her right back with a smile on your face. You were honestly nervous that she wouldn't like it, and you had braced yourself for any feedback she might've given you.

Maria had let go of the hug, now holding your shoulders. "I have a surprise for you." The smile dropped off your face, you didn't like surprises. Surprises before were nice, but not in this hell-bound world. "What?" You were doubly as nervous about this than with the painting. "Okay, so, I've set you up with someone at tonight's part-"

"You what?" You interrupted the woman in front of you. Oh no, no no no. Your facial expression fell even more after this. "Don't worry! He's a good boy, I promise. You'll love him- please, just please cooperate with this." Maria had pled with you. You could only stare at her, like you were dumbfounded by what she was saying. In reality, you were far from dumbfounded, you just didn't know why she would do this without consulting you first.

You waited a moment before you replied, "Am I able to back out?". Maria could only smile at you, indicating that you most definitely would not be able to back out of this. After a moment of silence between the two, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh while shaking your head. "'M not forgiving you for this, woman."

You had walked out from behind the bar, leaving Maria there. You knew she had much more organizing (things she had made clear she wanted to do by herself, otherwise you would've helped her) to do before tonight. "I'll drag you out of your house if you don't show up tonight, mark my words!" She laughed as she called out to you. Right before exiting the bar, you waved her off, a small 'yeah, yeah!' escaping your lips. You knew that Maria had good intentions setting you up with someone she knew, but you didn't think it was going to go well. God, you thought to yourself, if this party doesn't go well, a hole would be dug and that would be your new home.

You had put on a nice outfit for tonight. The temperature had rose a ton (despite it being dark) since earlier, which had confirmed your questioning of what you should attend the party in. You had showered, fixed your hair, sprayed perfume, and put on some lip products you found inside the bathroom cabinets before making the treacherous walk through hell's half acre to get back to the bar.

You were neighbours with Maria, and she lived in the farthest part of the town. It didn't help when you had events like this, or the long trail to and from work in the early mornings and late nights. Thankfully this was only the third time you made this hike today, earlier going and coming back from dropping the painting off, and now. If Maria and Tommy hadn't given you a few days off of work, you probably wouldn't have went to the party. Work was exhausting, especially when it was hot outside.

You had your hands in your pocket as you were walking, humming to yourself. You were ripped out of your thoughts as you heard someone call your name, you turned immediately to spot a familiar brown-haired girl. "Hey." You nodded over to her, as you slowed your pace so she was able to catch up. This was Talia's (a friend of yours) younger sister, Dina.

"Hi! You're going to the party, right? I'm so excited." You could only bring a smile to your face, nodding your head. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Dina mimicked the smile you had on your face. You two had talked for a while as you approached closer to the bar. You had found out that she was so to-the-moon for this party because someone she had liked asked her out, and they were attending together. You had given Dina the 'make sure you're safe' and whatnot talk, since apparently Talia hadn't.

As soon as you had gotten to the bar, Dina had bid you a goodbye with a tight hug, before running off and finding her date. You couldn't remember when you had been happy like that. Sure, you were happy a lot of the times, but never beaming. There was too much worrying in this world to ever be beaming anymore, as depressing as that sounds. Not getting into it too much, you had finally stepped into the bar.

You were immediately engulfed with the scent of whiskey, sweat, and good food. Despite what had you had just said, this brought a genuine smile to your face. Seeing people just embracing the current moment, and having no worries for just a little while- who couldn't smile at this?

You had glanced around, looking for Maria. Though you didn't see her, you saw the next best thing. "Hey, Tommy! Have you seen your wife?" The man had turned, raising his brow before he had seen you. "Hey- naw', pro'lly runnin' 'round somewhere, being a hostess and whatnot." He passed you a smile before taking a sip from his dark brown bottle. You smiled and nodded.

You shortly found your way over to the bar, ordering the strongest of whatever they had. You had recognized the bartender from around town, but had decided not to make conversation with him. He passed you the drink in a glass cup, before going back to serving others. You had brought the edge of it to your lips, sipping the amber liquid. Holy fuck, you thought to yourself, this was some strong shit.

Before you had muttered a string of swear words under your breath, something- someone had caught your attention. A hand was placed on the bottom of your back, and you shifted your weight a little. Earlier it was mentioned that you were the leader of the "Jackson Protectors", Joel Miller (Tommy's older brother) shared the role with you. He was tall and extremely muscular, and was definitely older than you.

"Sorry, peach. Just gotta squeeze on in 'ere." Joel had muttered, just loud enough for you to hear. He let the nickname roll off his tongue, although you didn't think anything of it. Nobody would hear, as the bar area was packed like a can of sardines and extremely loud from the many different conversations happening. Joel had ordered something on draft, you didn't really hear.

You had never really seen him outside of work, only a handful of times. You wouldn't have taken Joel as a party type of guy, he was extremely closed off and- well, alone. Not in a rude way, no, but in a protective way. "How's it goin'?" He had asked you, "Noticed ya' haven't been in for a few days." Joel's hand was no longer on the low of your back, but gripping the tall, glass cup. He was leaning his elbow against the bar top, as you were leaning your back against it.

"Way too busy, I've sort of- I'dunno, missed it? Work, ya' know." It came out of more of a question rather than a statement. This only earned a laugh from the man across from you. "I get what ya' mean, felt like that when my arm broke-" He let out a small laugh, "-had nothin' to keep me occupied, wishin' I was out'n huntin' things." You nodded your head as you took another sip from the glass in your left hand, keeping your face neutral this time.

"Ya' didn't come across as the type to like- well, things like this." You hinted toward Joel. He shrugged his shoulder, taking another sip from his cup. "'M not, never was." You had an almost concerning look now, why was he here if he didn't like these types of things? "-But," Joel quickly added, "Figured I'd try it out after all these years o'not goin', ya' know?" You could only nod your head. It was true, you've never seen Joel Miller attend anything other than his daily work shift. Maybe he had a change of heart, but you didn't know if you really believed it.

Joel had started to talk about something else, but for some reason, you had zoned out. Your best friend had caught your eye from right behind Joel, so you were now focused on her. It didn't take long for her to notice you staring at her, and her face turned upwards. She was mouthing something to you, but you couldn't make sense of what it was. After squinting your eyes, and Maria repeating it twice more, it hit you. She had mouthed 'that's the one'.

Your expression fell as you snapped back into reality. Really? Your work partner? You weren't saying Joel was ugly, or had an ugly personality (far from that, actually), but you couldn't mess around with someone you worked with. "You alright?" Your eyes moved from just above Joel's shoulders to meet his gaze. You nod your head before almost feeling lightheaded, you were going to kill Maria.

"Do ya' know how to dance?" You spit out before thinking it through. You were pretty sure you didn't have a crush on Joel Miller, but- no buts, you had thought to yourself. You couldn't, if something bad went wrong, you would still have to work with this man every single day. You could slap yourself right about now.

"Drunk words're sober thoughts, eh?" He asked (rhetorically) to you, which had earned a true, dumbfounded look on your face. You only managed to let a "huh?" escape your lips, and Joel shook his head with a small laugh. "Nevermind, c'mon." His hand fell to the bottom of your back once again, and before you knew it, you were walking with him to the packed dance floor. You could feel the eyes of conservative mothers on you, probably spreading lies about how you two did this at work. It wasn't true (not yet at least).

You two got on the floor, and Joel let go of your back. He moved his hands more forward, placing them on either sides of your hips. You looked down, an immediate heat rising to your cheeks. It was the alcohol, you told yourself (only half of that statement was true). Your actions took over your thoughts as your arms wrapped around Joel's neck, the only thing running through your head was if you still smelled like the perfume you put on earlier.

The song had changed, it turned into a slower one- one that you were able to dance to properly. "Now, I'ain' gone dancin' in years, so don't go too hard on me if I mess up, alright peach?" There it was again, peach. The nickname was given to you by Joel a while ago, after you had found a peach tree while out on a run with him. Joel thought it had really fit you and your personality, so he didn't give it up.

You laughed, probably louder than you should have, "Don't worry, I'm not any professional neither." You were following Joel's lead, following where he put his feet. You never learned to dance properly, there was never anybody to teach you. You had managed to step on his toes a few times, but there was no yap from him about it. Joel was- enjoying himself, the first time in a (long) while.

"You didn't have to," You had began, the drunken thoughts taking over you, "I know Maria put y'up to this, it doesn't need to go further than dancin'." You could feel Joel's grip tighten slightly on your waist, something you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't so focused on him. "I wanted to," He quickly reassured you, "Just had to make sure ya' wouldn't- I'dunno, not let me?" You could tell Joel was being genuine, the tone was in his words. This was the first time the man had ever let you in on what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

You two talked and danced for another while, before the party started to die down into the early hours of the morning. You found out he didn't live too far away from you, so you both accompanied each other on the walk home. You too were far too drunk to be walking alone anyway, despite the town being safe. Joel's house was first on the way back, but he had decided to walk the few extra blocks to make sure you got home okay.

As you got home, you had fumbled with the front gate before stepping in and closing it behind - it was only two feet high, so you could still bid your goodbyes to Joel. You had turned around once the gate was shut, his eyes already down on you. "Had fun tonight, almost too much fun." This brought your face up into a smile, nodding your head. "Guess I better-"

"Can we do this again sometime?" You had interrupted Joel, catching him a bit off. "Only if ya' wanna." You had bit your lip, bracing yourself in case he were to say no. Thankfully, he didn't- far from a no. "Wasn't thinkin' we wouln't go out again, now were ya'?" You two were very close, close enough that he could hear the spike in your breathing pattern. "I'll see ya' tomorrow?" You questioned, your hand on top of the fence post. Joel followed suit, his calloused hand now overtop of yours. "I'll pick 'ya up, bright'n early."

You thought this was going to go horribly earlier, you really believed it was. You didn't want to fall for anyone, because you didn't know how much time everyone had left- you were afraid of loss, afraid of losing the people you got close to. You were scared that one day, you would wake up and they would be gone. Within a span of a day, though, you had gotten over the fear of loss. You had found someone who was just like you, but also the complete opposite in many ways. You knew, for a fact, that you had just found someone else you trusted with so much in you, he wasn't just someone you worked with anymore. Who knows, he could turn into something more with time to come, and you almost hoped he would.

—

nightclub love, matt maltese

[darlingggdearest]

Thank you for accepting Enmu requests! Not many write about him. Can I ask for yandere Enmu headcanons please? 👉👈

YANDERE ENMU HEADCANONS

Thank you so much for requesting!!

WARNING: Yandere, Enmu being gross.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

+ PLEASE yandere Enmu would be SO hard to get off your back. He wants to be around you all the time and won't hesitate to show it.

+ I feel as though Enmu would be very patient with his darling. Stalking them for months waiting for the *perfect* moment to snatch you away. Not to mention the patience he has for you when he does have you in his grasp. You're kicking and screaming with your limbs tied in extra tight ropes. And he'll just be sitting next to you with his head nuzzled in your neck, gently drawing shapes on your arm with his claw, of course that's not passive aggressive at all.

+ "Darling, there's no reason to be scared! I'm not going to hurt you, my love, please calm down."

+ If you were a regular human, then he would have just knocked you out with his blood demon art, however, he kind of likes it... Of course he wants you to be happy with him, but he can't deny that he doesn't get an absolute thrill of seeing you so helpless under his thumb.

+ But soon your little moment of terror peace is gone and the train is close to boarding. Enmu is a little disappointed that he never got you to calm down from your "temper tantrum", but he reminds himself that this is your first day with him. So he's not mad.

+ Enmu presses his head against yours, using his blood demon art to make you drift off into a timeless sleep. You don't, or really can't fight back that much, your energy being too used up to keep you awake. So you fall limp, right into Enmu's lap. He picks you up bridal style and carries you to the back of the train where the luggage was being kept, and sets you down gently behind a crate so you wouldn't be noticed.

+ Alright, lets have a chat. I see most of the time yandere Enmu is displayed as being in a more submissive role in most fanfiction. Of course that's fine, however I don't see him playing the same role for someone who is weaker than him (a human). As we know, Enmu is a kiss up to anyone who is more powerful than him, but when we're talking about someone weak who he's obsessed with, It would make sense if the opposite dynamic took place. He is your god. Not the other way around.

+ Does he expect worship? That depends on you. He expects you to let him do as he pleases whenever he wants, (cuddles, kisses, *zesty jazz music starts playing*) however, unless you've been bad, I don't think he would care if you downright worship him or not. But don't get me wrong, if you've done something in an act of rebellion, or have threw one to many curses at him he won't hesitate to grab you by your jaw and stare you down, scolding you for whatever you had done.

+ "My dear, you're really testing me today aren't you?"

+ he also likes to remind you he's more powerful than you in much more subtle ways too. He forces you to make direct eye contact with him. This way (because his blood demon art revolves around putting people to sleep with his eyes) you forever have a reminder of what he could do to you if he wanted to.

+ Enmu plans on turning you into a demon, soon. Maybe a year after he takes you. This way he would be able to live with you forever, like he has always wanted. And a little bonus to that is you would be by his side more often because of the threat of demon slayers.

+ Trying to escape? H. E. L. L. N. O.

+ You'd get caught within seconds. And not only that, but that is the only thing thing that makes Enmu truly angry. You don't want to see Enmu at his angriest. R.I.P. your leg.

+ Overall 8/10 on the yandere scale. Good luck.

Thank you for reading!

[euphoniumpets]

Guilty as Sin? | Garreth Weasley x Slytherin! reader

Summary: You hated Garreth Weasley. Well, disliked ever since he had gotten you into trouble from first day in potions of stealing the fwooper feather for him. How come so if you hated Weasley so much that you started to like him?

Warnings: mental illness if you squint hard enough, Longing, two idiots in love.

Requested? Yes by nonnie: Hiya ! I’m not sure how to do this properly but could I please request a Garreth Weasley x slytherin reader ? My boy deserve so much love and I just think that the Gryffindor x Slytherin dynamic can be something really fun and interesting to play with ! Maybe the houses are always in rivalry mode and then you just have Garreth and slytherin reader vibing and being two idiots in love.

A/N: thank you nonnie for requesting this! and am i putting a taylor swift song in the title? yes. Tbh there isn't enough Garreth Weasley fic out there and my boy deserve that much. I'm a sucker for enemies to loversssss. this fic is not edited, i've never heard of her.

You hated Garreth Weasley.

Well, not quite literally, but you knew that he disliked you and you always found him annoying.

Griffindor versus Slytherin had been torn apart for centuries and you wondered that he had used you to ever since you started your fifth year and had stolen the fwooper feather and becoming the hero of hogwarts. You hated the role of how they had given you. You weren't a hero, overall it didn't felt like it.

The beginning of your fifth year seemed a flash in your memory and you could remember how much it had changed since you were in your sixth year. You were lonely and Sebastian had driften away from you and as well Ominis. You had heard the whispers whenever you would walk past by the students and the nightmares of Professor Fig's death had haunted you ever since.

You were lonely and didn't had nobody, that was until when Garreth would disturb you whenever the two of you shared classes.

At first, you found him annoying, considering of how he would disturb you during the leassons that you two shared and you wanted him to leave you alone. However, the more he would throw some comments to your way, you actually slowly became used and liked to have his company around you.

You wouldn't dare to admit him, knowing that he would be cocky about it, but your luck would disappear today when Professor Sharp had written Amortentia on the board that you would be brewing today.

''You've got to be kidding with me,'' You mumbled under your breath as you sighed deeply. You leaned on your elbow as you stared at the bold letters written on the board.

''Oh, please, maybe it's time that you will confess your undying love for me,'' You heard Garreth tease you, and you turned to glance at him and roll your eyes.

''In your dreams, Weasley,'' You responded and you saw the smug smirk on his face.

''You're always in my dreams,'' He retorted and you wrinkled your nose in disgust. ''I did not have to know that,'' You replied and walked to your potion station as he followed you from behind.

''Why not? I'm hurt Y/N that you do not like me,'' Garreth told you with a look of hurt on his face. You turned to look at him for real this time with your amusement expression and you couldn't help but study the freckles on his face.

''I do not like you, Weasley, you're annoying,'' You retorted and went back to reading the instructions for the amortentia potion. You heard Garreth chuckle at your response and went back to his potion.

-

Garreth Weasley did not like you.

Well, that would be a lie since he'd been beaming at you ever since you started fifth year in Professor Sharp's potions. He didn't realize that he began to like you more than as a what? A friend? He began to wonder what you two were since he enjoyed to tease you.

That was until when Leander said something about that Garreth couldn't stop talking about you when the two of them would hang out, it was then he realized he actually liked you.

He had seen how you began to be friends with Sallow and Gaunt.

From the moment you would be at their side throughout fifth year and now in the beginning of the sixth year, he had seen you walking lonely in the castle. He didn't know what had happened between Sallow and Gaunt but he had heard the rumors.

He had seen the dark circles underneath your eyes and he knew that you weren't paying attention in the classes you often shared together. Your mind was always drifting to somewhere else and he could see the sadness in your eyes, even if you played that you were fine.

He knew that the fifth year had been difficult and that was why he decided to crack some jokes for the first time in Professor Binns class. The two of you were paired together and sure, the two of you had known each other since you had stolen the fwooper feather from him, but you never interacted with him.

So, why did he then smell you in his own Amortentia potion when he made it? The day when Professor Sharp had to make it as a leasson that he dreaded it so much.

He glanced at you every often, studying your movements with a fond look on his face. However, he stopped himself from a moment when he saw the frown on your face.

''So, who did you smell?'' Garreth cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to make a small conversation. You turned to look at him with slight hesitation.

''Uh, I didn't smell who,'' He watched you shrug your shoulders. He looked at you with a frown on his face.

''Smelled some mixed potions for a reason....'' Garreth heard you mutter before turning back to his potions, curious to smell what he would smell.

''Hmm,'' He replied in thought. ''What about you?'' Garreth heard you ask him and he turned to glance at you.

''I don't know, something sweet,'' He responded, and went back to his potions as he didn't think much of it.

-

You liked Garreth Weasley.

How could you be so stupid that you figured out days later that you smelled in your amortentia potion was Garreth Weasley? Out of all people you had to like him.

It all made sense of what you smelled, the mixed potions, the burnt smell whenever he would fail at his experiments or the smell of fireworks.

You had avoided him ever since and it seemed that he had noticed it too as he would walk towards you, but as soon you would see him approaching closely, you would sprint away - too afraid to meet the confrontation.

So, why did you feel so nervous when Garreth had cornered you by the bookshelves in the library? You had been in the library for the last hour since you had met Cressida on the way and she had begged for your help to catch the books in the library since she didn't want anyone to read her diary.

''You've been avoiding me,'' Garreth spoke, his face serious as he stands tall above over you. You didn't came face to his eyes and looked down to avoid those green eyes.

''No I haven't,'' You responded, casting another glance at the librarian.

''Yes you have, don't deny it Y/N,'' Garreth replied. ''Why have you?'' He asked and you didn't dare to meet his eyes.

You couldn't. ''It's nothing,'' You dismissed. ''You're a terrible liar, you know?'' Garreth replied as you could hear the slight teasing in his voice. You hugged the book tightly in your chest and you could feel how close the two of you were.

''Is that what I am?'' You asked. Your voice quivered as you felt him envelop your back, his warmth seeping through your shirt. He was hot like a furnace and you couldn't think.

''You're more than that,'' Garreth spoke softly. It was then you dared to meet his green eyes and you could see that he meant it.

''Am I?'' You questioned. You felt surprised by his statement and how he looked at you. His eyes that filled with adoration and you started to think that he maybe didn't dislike you at all. Garreth knew when to stop as he kept studying your surpise expression. The invisible boundary that you held with uncertianty.

You felt everything. His love and the steady rise from his chest and the warmth that radiated from his body. ''Are you going to keep me trapped here or are you gonna let me leave?'' You asked, you felt your voice stuttering because of how close he is.

''I'm not stopping you,'' He responded. You could turn and leave and never looking back, but a part of you wanted to stay.

''You can go or you can stop pretending,'' He told you. ''To stop pretending what, exactly?'' Garreth shifted so he leaned closer to you.

You wanted to run away because of how it felt but your legs felt stiff.

''You drive me crazy, you know?'' He replied with longing in his eyes and voice. You knew that he wasn't the type of manipulating others and by the look of it, you knew it was the truth. ''Just give me a chance to love you,'' You looked at him, unable to speak since you were loss of words.

''You really thought that I didn't like you?'' Garreth asked.

''Maybe,'' You muttered. Garreth quirked into a small smile at his victory, knowing that he knew that you had felt the same. When he glanced at your lips, he kissed you, making you drop the book you were holding fall to the floor.

Maybe liking Garreth Weasley wasn't so bad after all.

-

I didn't know this fic would be so long, lmao, i'm so sorry

[osiris-iii-bc]

Cocoon [Papa Emeritus III x Cardinal Copia -Non related- OS]

Just me practicing fluff (and embarrassed at the moment). Born to be a ficlet, died as a whole one shot. Am I really surprised? If you enjoy old men softly making out, that’s the place for you. A very special thanks to @van-goghs-smoking-skull for the amazing beta assistance done on this text ❤️‍🔥

Rating: smut, slash, sex, domestic fluff, oral sex, anal sex, anal fingering, porn with plot, porn with feeling, romance, nsfw, established relationship, soft Dom!Terzo, Sub!Copia, Copia is an expert housewife, Terzo is… Terzo.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Papa Emeritus III (non related)

Words: 4.314

Summary: Just Papa Emeritus III and Cardinal Copia enjoying some alone time in their new residence after a long tour. Work outside, cuddles in.

>> AO3, Wattpad or down here 👇🏻

It had been several months since Copia had issued the ultimatum in that small tour bus kitchen.

"We need a house.", he burst out suddenly, flicking his cigarette into the plastic ashtray almost with relief.

"I don't recall us sleeping under bridges." Terzo lifted his gaze from the newspaper and fixed it on Copia, raising his eyebrows so he could look over his reading glasses. Then, without a word more, he returned to the newspaper with renewed interest.

"Terzo?"

"Copia... why do you want another house?" He put down the newspaper, conceding to him the attention he clearly demanded. Out of the window, Ghouls and roadies were preparing the stage for the soundcheck.

"I want a house," he emphasized. "But a real house. Our own house."

Terzo lifted the newspaper again, this time more interested and thoughtful. "A house?" he asked. "An entire house? Just for the two of us?"

Copia nodded vigorously. Not that Terzo was surprised; after all, it wasn't the first time they had planned something like this. Usually, it was just idle talk that ended up going nowhere. "The time is ripe." claimed Copia. 

Terzo was Papa, it was his right to demand the purchase of a new property, and Copia certainly wouldn't let that opportunity slip away. As the years passed, they both started feeling the natural need men often desire after a life well-lived: an equally well-deserved rest, made of simple things and good company -. perhaps a book to read in front of a fireplace at night, instead of the wild parties they started to lack energy for.

"You're the Papa," he had insisted, swirling the spoon in the coffee cup he had prepared. That was a point he never stressed enough. "We said we would do it when you became Papa."

"Yes, but... let's take things slowly." Terzo had restrained. "The Church already owns other residences, and we should discuss it with Imperator, the others-"

"You're the Papa. You can and you will.", he retorted, sticking to his point. Then, he raised a finger, reconsidering, "No, wait, I'll tell Imperator. She trusts me more than you."

Terzo gave him one last resigned look, "You really have no tact, you know?"

And so it was that, a few months later, while Copia was busy with the real estate agent discussing the tranquility of the area and the good condition of the house, Terzo preferred to wander through the rooms alone, already imagining what their own house could look like. He could already see Copia fully immersed in the role of interior designer, choosing all the furniture and colors to decorate their little kingdom. He envisioned scenes of unusual everyday life, like a breakfast prepared together or a night spent close in their bed, in their room, without pressure and without restrictions.

Convincing Imperator that the pontiff was growing old and tired and needed a secluded residence to recover after the long tours where he could relax in privacy and silence, had been moderately easy. If Terzo had assisted in their meeting, he wouldn't have spoken to him for a whole day for having used his age again to justify his requests. After all, he wasn't that much older than him. And if he tried to bring up that bothersome rumor about him dying his hair to cover the white roots, it would have been even more catastrophic. Nobody seemed to believe his explanation that he was just reviving the color. 

However, it had worked, and the end always justifies the means, right?

The house was well-ventilated, bright, and spacious, made comfortable by the warm tones of wood. Perhaps it was a bit too large for just two people, but they would certainly find enough space for parties or some star-like indulgence, such as a game room or a personalized gym, giving a purpose to that couple of spare rooms.

The completely glass structure overlooking the garden, which initially seemed like a small greenhouse, was actually a bathroom, complete with a large bathtub and a shower prominently displayed for "true lovers of privacy," as Terzo sarcastically remarked.

How could one not love a house with the toilet on display?

If Copia hadn't come back to him reporting the long-awaited positive outcome, he probably would have been the one begging him to buy it.

**

Copia waited for Terzo's return like a loyal dog awaits its human, with his nose up in the air behind the door.

He had been there for days, accompanied by a group of Siblings, to prepare the house and ensure that Papa had everything he needed for those well-deserved days of rest after such a demanding tour. It was the perfect excuse to be the first person he would see upon his return, and it had been even easier sending away all the collaborators before his arrival. Papa will be very tired and not inclined to have people around, of course… Inventing problems to find solutions had been one of the skills that brought him to the highest ranks of the Clergy, after all.

While following him during a few stops of the European tour was a relatively easy task, the American leg was a far more complicated matter. His services were needed more at the Ministry than in Papa's entourage, so the Cardinal had spent those weeks of excited expectation planning every detail, meticulously creating their little nest. He had required a surprising quantity of scented candles and soft pillows for the sofa, for evenings spent curled up together sharing tender moments—or indulging in carnal sins, depending on the mood. He had also needed a complete assortment of creams and toiletries to meet both of their shower routines, bottles of wine to celebrate his return… just the basics to make the night, or the morning, or whenever they pleased, comfortable enough to take all the time and freedom to make love wherever they wanted, without the usual furtive glances toward the door, anxious that someone might knock at any moment, especially at the most inconvenient times. Pots and pans were there for when they would wake up in the morning, hungry and inspired for a late breakfast. The food storage he had arranged would have probably been enough for a whole month, but he wanted to be prepared for any request the Papa might have had during those days...

Then, the metallic sound of the engine moving and tires running over the gravel had distracted him from that daydreaming. 

He observed the black car pulling into the driveway from the window, and it felt like that day, many years ago, when Cardinal Terzo had irradiated him with his presumptuous aura at their first meeting, already feeling like the star he had become years after; hard not to fall for his raven hair and cumbersome personality. 

First his shoe appeared from the bottom of the car door, landing on the gravel of the walkway, then his hair emerged at the top of it, and as he fully stepped out of the car, his entire figure materialized, pausing just long enough to adjust his coat against the gentle breeze that tousled his hair. He promptly slicked it back with a natural gesture so familiar to the Cardinal. 

His more casual attire made him look less like a cult leader and more like a strange type of business man. For as much as Copia loved his casual look, there was nothing that could save him from the shivers he felt at black masses, where his vestments made him look like a divinity manifesting on the pulpit. 

Terzo finally saw him at the door, the glimmer of a smile moved his lips. It was such a rare thing to see him smile.

The Cardinal efficiently grabbed two of his bags, just to speed up the unpacking process; he dismissed the driver and assistants and finally closed the door behind them.

"Home, finally." Terzo sighed, relieved. He slid off his gloves and looked around, curious about what the Cardinal had prepared for him. It was a strange sensation not to hear the constant murmur of the Ministry residents or find himself surrounded by Clergy figures and Siblings of Sin, finally feeling the trappings of the rockstar fading away as he entered the driveway.

"How are you?" Copia helped him take off his coat, in that respectful way that still betrayed an unnecessary professionalism, a hard-to-break habit.

"Hungry, If I have to be honest."

"Oh, great, I have prepared an asso-" But he soon felt something stopping his steps and his words. It was Terzo's arm, grabbing him by the waist, pulling him back against his body. "Where are you going?" and only in that moment did they share a proper kiss, in that way Terzo had to just reassure him that, though time had passed, his passion had never faded with it.

He had to credit Copia for the merit of that idea. He had managed to create a sense of family that they had never been able to experience before.

Living at the Ministry was both an honor and a burden; it had been their home for the larger part of their lives, but as time passed, they found themselves craving silence and the absence of obligations hanging over their heads. They longed for something that could make them feel like individuals and not just replaceable parts of something bigger.

The topic of work was only touched in view of some imminent commitment when Terzo was on break; this evening is no different, aside from the adventures Terzo had brought with him during those nearly three months of uninterrupted touring, shared along with a bottle of good wine. For the rest of the time, they were just simple men or, at least, for a small part of the year they could allow themselves the illusion of being so.

Copia had tried to say something deep on the matter, but Terzo had silenced him with his lips, tasting the intense flavor of wine in his mouth. There was no need to overthink, not that night. "We have an inauguration to celebrate." Terzo breathed on his freshly kissed lips, his arm still tightly around his shoulders.

They then rose from the couch where they had settled after a lavish dinner —cooked by Copia, as Terzo's hands were perfect everywhere except on the stove— to roll into their bed without clothes and without even closing the door, because they could.

On the way to the bedroom, Terzo spared no compliments for anything they encountered along their path, gradually freeing Copia from his cassock, starting with the belt, then the tunic, the shirt underneath, all while taking every opportunity to praise the choice of plants, the arrangement of books, the positioning of chairs, so meticulously studied in every detail! He alternated sweet comments with sweet kisses on his skin as he uncovered it.

Maybe a bit too sweet for his standards…

Copia stopped to take a good, suspicious look at him. "Why do I have a feeling that you are about to ask me for a favor?"

"Because I am actually about to do it." Terzo moved his chin to indicate something beyond the bed, "The wardrobe. I may need half of yours. Or a new one."

Copia rubbed his face with his hand, smiling faintly "Or a whole dressing room… How could I underestimate your vanity."

"Don't rush, we have time. It must have been tiring planning all this, ordering stuff, choosing the colors of the curtains…" he kissed him, sucking his lips lightly before a last, soft lip touch, "looks like you need a break too."

"There is only one task missing from the list…" and with a gentle pressure on his chest, he flipped positions, finding himself knelt on the bed, "Let me take care of you." As he always had, by the way. Sometimes you can't get rid of your profession even in the most intimate moment, and taking care of Papa was the best job Copia may have ever dreamt of.

He freed Terzo's arms from the shirt, pulling off one arm at time in a deliberate slow way, then kissed the back of his hand, like he had seen Terzo do countless times. He then placed it on his chest so that he could caress him; an excuse for Terzo to quickly reach to his back and pull him closer, enough to kiss his navel by lifting a bit on his elbow.

"Have you practiced while I was away?", his hand still on the Cardinal's back.

"I learned from the best teacher."

Copia leaned towards him, but Terzo swiftly met his lips halfway, as if waiting for Copia to bow down to meet him was too much wasted time.

Then, he quickly ran his hands down his stomach and a little below, to reach and unbuckle the button of Papa's trousers, hearing him hiss when his fingers lightly traveled along his hardening length, in an accidental caress, while unzipping them all the way down. The Cardinal hadn't even slid them midway through his legs yet when he - literally - rubbed his face in the middle of them, impatient, inhaling that scent he had waited so long to smell again. He breathed him in through his boxers, letting his tongue taste the fabric and the damp skin beneath it. Terzo's breath trembled, his neck extended until his head touched the wood of the bed frame behind it while holding onto Copia's hair like he was on the edge of a ravine, about to fall, inviting him to press more against his bulge, even if there was no need to.

The Cardinal didn't have to move away that much to slide down that last barrier between his lips and the pontiff's bare skin; in fact, he rested his lips and chin on the soft trail of hair that marked the way from his navel to the warm flesh he just uncovered, keeping his eyes gazing up to Terzo's.

The pontiff could only breathe out an honest 'Oh…' for that long awaited freedom.

Copia kissed the sides of that growing erection the way he used to kiss his neck, with the same devotion, lips sucking his skin with generous smacks at every suction; his curious tongue, a wet serpent licking all the way from base to top and down again, after twirling on his dripping tip, in an obscene display of desire.

"Don't torture me, Cardinal…" 

It sounded like a prayer; he just knew how Copia could go on for hours with just kissing and teasing laps. Terzo's lips fell open, swallowing a weak moan when he saw his glans pressed between Copia's lips, his voice surprisingly high pitched. 

The Cardinal's tongue showed up to caress his head once more, before Terzo let go of a liberating sigh when he got swallowed whole by Copia's warm throat, sucking him in and out a few times.

"I want to suck you off in every single room of this house, on every surface, at every hour of day and night…" Copia breathed out on his tense skin, finally dropping the glamor he loved to cover himself with.

A shadow of a weak smirk moved the corner of Terzo's lips up, meanwhile stroking his hair gently. They had now lost their elegant hairstyle, and it was a rarity only Terzo could brag, to see him disheveled like that. "Looks like you already have plans for my retirement."

"Oh, it involves some of my favorite activities."

"Can I have a little spoiler?"

Copia took his time to give a last, long goodbye kiss to his cock, before kneeling on the bed to finally take off his own trousers, and the underwear soon after, revealing a vigorous erection he couldn't help but leisurely stroke a couple of times.

Their body shape was similar but with details that made them unique. Where Terzo was still lean and agile, even though smoothed with time, Copia was a bit more muscular, although less defined, but only because he was a bit more filled out than him, his waist and shoulders slightly wider.

The years had softened the meat on his belly, the same way age had done with Copia's. When kneeling, the muscle of the Cardinal's legs contracted, showing up in a fascinating hump. Terzo loved to touch them, feeling them stiff under his palm.

Papa's hand was wrapped around his leg at that very moment, caressing it from behind. He pulled back when Copia sat on his heels, spread thighs, leaning back enough to disclose his most private part - well, not so private to Terzo. He guided his hand down, lower than his sex, until he reached for his entrance, teasing himself with his fingers; his erection rested stiff on his belly.

Terzo fixed on his focused expression while he prepared for him, framed by the hair now freely falling at the sides of his face and on his eyes, giving him an unusual, youthful look; he could see his face contort in a different way as deeper his fingers disappeared inside him. He loved the way pleasure manifested on his face, so limpid and readable. The urge to ravish him and be the source of those blissful expressions was aching between his thighs.

"No, wait…", he said, unsurprisingly, looking at him tilting his head back, moaning for that self-given pleasure; he had just started to move his hips against his own hand. "Turn."

The sweetest of orders.

Before Copia could give him his back, they shared a deep but soft kiss that tasted like trust and stable habits. The hand on the Cardinal's back, sliding between his shoulder blades and down on his lower back, was a gentle request to lower the shoulders a bit more and arch better for him. Since he was already there, he squeezed his butt on his way to his entrance, more like a slap than a caress. He pressed lightly, testing his resistance, finding easy permission to fill him with one finger and, with a bit of work, a second one too.

With no rush, no need to impress anyone, a sequence of smooth movements they had learnt with time and practice.

"I must admit…" Copia tried to say, "That the event of your retirement would be -oh! Not that dreadful to me…"

Terzo flicked his eyes down at him for a moment, then twisted his fingers inside him. Copia exploded in a harsh groan. "I thought you wanted to keep the work outside." Then, another twist, to which he added a generous stroke on the base of his cock, squeezing it to a point Copia must have felt uncomfortable, by the way he cried again, "I could consider these words a betrayal."

"Will you punish me, your Unholiness?" Copia's tone was cracked by panting and struggling, but slightly hopeful.

Terzo took his time to ponder the possibility. "No." He simply declared; and that was his punishment.

He cruelly kissed Copia on his back, between his shoulder blades, before finally positioning behind him. He spat on his dick and rubbed it against the Cardinals distended entrance, pressing in slowly. Copia let his legs part wider, patiently waiting for Terzo to fill him, squirming and clinging to the bedsheets when he finally did; his mouth fell open, alternating mute moans and irregular panting, hardly breathing with the side of his face pressed on the mattress.

Almost fully leaning over his back, enveloping him from behind, Terzo started to stroke his cock to grant him every kind of relief he desperately carved, indulging on the head of his erection, so wet with precum, easily stroked by the ring of his fingers speeding the rhythm around it. The faster he trusted in him, the faster he stroked his cock, as if it was his own.

"All for me…" Copia managed to say with what was left of his breath "Can-can you imagine? This everyday…fucking me everyday…"

That was easy to imagine, especially while he was actually fucking him, eyes closed, gripping those hips made just for him, until they had reached the climax almost together, groaning as if it were a release.

Copia loved to hear his voice change in those moments; it looked like he had a whole set of tones only audible while he was experiencing pleasure. His voice went down at least an octave, relaxed, almost tired, a raspy sound that rebounded in his chest and down through his thighs, especially when he got to hear that voice - broken and needy - heavy breathing curses and filth straight in his ear, animalistic and coarse, like his last groan suppressed on the skin of his shoulder.

Sweaty and breathless, Terzo had collapsed onto Copia's body, who had caught his breath and then uttered those words, seemingly out of nowhere. Because in those moments, Copia tapped into the poetic vein that he usually infused into his passionate sermons.

He said, "In a way, we are luckier than regular people because they have serenity right under their noses and are never happy. We have to struggle to reach even a bit of peace, but at least we know how to be. We really understand the value of it." 

Terzo hadn't said anything because, even if he wanted to find the right words to reply, he wouldn't have found them. So, they stayed silent for a while, then Copia resumed talking because he just couldn't keep his mouth shut for five straight minutes anyway.

If there was a spectrum in how the mind works, Terzo and Copia would stand on the opposite sides. 

Terzo, the pragmatic mind, was a man of action. He approached life with an impetuous attitude, even if his actions were often far from agreeable. 

Copia, on the other hand, was immersed in theory. Talking with him meant exploring the infinite chambers of his mind. There was no question how he found himself most comfortable between the walls of a library, engrossed in the pages of philosophy or historical books or indulging in deep conversations with the elder members of the Clergy. Terzo often described his way of getting lost in his thought with the "well" metaphor he himself had invented: inside Copia's head there was a well he descended every time he got silent when exploring a certain concept, chasing every idea and possibility with his little wooden bucket, sitting at the bottom of it; then, all of a sudden, he’d emerge with the product of his reflection, which never failed to enrich the dynamic of their contrasting relationship.

"...And you know that some butterflies live on average from a few hours to a week? Some even longer, but it doesn't matter because they still don't last long... Anyway, in those few days, they manage to live a complete life. Have you ever thought that when we're together, even just for ten minutes, it's like we have everything we need to live a whole life? In a week that we spend in this house, alone, it's like we truly live another life, in which nothing is missing... don't you think?"

But Terzo didn't respond even then. Copia had always been curious about nature and animals, he had probably been fascinated by one of his last readings. He didn't even realize that it was a genuine question until Copia repeated it to him, but he still didn't answer. Not that he didn't want to, but he didn't feel the need to respond. It was nice that Copia said it, and it was nice to listen to it... It was nice that those words hung suspended between them, and that was enough.

That was how they had fallen asleep, and how they had woken up. Or at least, that's how Terzo had woken up, with that sense of serenity and complete life running through his veins..

Then they got up to prepare breakfast, and... Terzo's phone rang.

Copia patiently waited for him to pick it up, gazing at him as he rolled his eyes at whatever name was on the screen, then walked out to the patio to respond. He observed Terzo pacing up and down the perimeter of the platform through the windows before greeting him with a resentful, "We said no work while we're here." when he returned.

Terzo sighed, "I know, but unfortunately, my phone's signal still reaches here."

"... Mars would have been a better choice, then."

Terzo looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For the two of us. I'm pretty sure there's no signal there." Copia replied. He then attempted to take a bite of a cookie, which he had probably soaked in milk for too long, as half of it fell back into the cup just as he tried to bite into it.

Terzo didn't know it, but that morning, Copia woke up thinking about how they had ended up in that house. It was something that, in a way, reassured him, reflecting on how their relationship had solidified over the years. He was somewhat curious to know if Mars was still an alternative to consider or if what they had was more than enough.

Anyway, Terzo chuckled, amused, getting up to place his coffee cup in the sink while still emptying its contents. Copia, after staring at the half-cookie still between his fingers with disappointment, had finally given up, tossing it back into the cup.

"You've let the conversations with Primo go to your head..."

And he was right. Because there was no reason to go to Mars when everything they needed was in their little life in their little cocoon. A life within a life, which found its release only in a few days of complete serenity within those walls of pale orange, the dark gray roof, and windows with white wood.

Just a few days, but enough for a complete existence. Just like butterflies.