#I had sort of a rough day so this cheered me up a lot
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
#writing advice#rambling#first drafts#gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster#feel like ive a ways to go yet#horror journeyman maybe
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AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?
Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.
In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.
The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.
But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.
I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.
One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.
Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.
I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.
I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.
Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!
What are these acronyms?
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Pacify Her || Kinktober - Day 5
pairing ▸ choi jongho × f!reader
now playing ▸ pacify her - melanie martinez
⤷ ❝someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours, but was he yours if he wanted me so bad?❞
genre ▸ college au, best friends to lovers, smut
warnings ▸ hand kink, degradation, gagging, choking, fingering, rough sex, infidelity
--------
You walk into the house, feeling the base of the music in your core. It felt stimulating since you pre-gamed with your friends before your arrival.
Yunjin: Somi and I are gonna go dance!
Y/n: I've gotta go find Jongho.
They exchange knowing smirks, heading for the dance floor. You roll your eyes, turning to scan the room.
You maneuver your way around the sweaty bodies of your classmates and finally spot your best friend.
He sits on a couch in the corner, drinking some sort of alcoholic beverage. His friend group sits around, two of them with a girl on their laps.
Yeosang: Hey, look! It's Jongho's girlfriend! Come take a seat.
His what?
Jongho: She's not my girlfriend.
His scowl pierces through the older, who simply shrugs and sits back.
Yeosang: Right. You're dating that one girl in your major. What was her name? Raven? My bad, I forgot. Y/n, come sit on my lap, baby.
Jongho clenches his jaw. He knows what he's doing and he doesn't like it.
Y/n: I'll pass. You're too much of a man whore for me.
Everyone laughs, including Yeosang. He can't argue with your statement because it's true.
You sit next to Jongho, head immediately laying on his lap.
Y/n: What were you guys talking about?
Mingi: The trip to the ski resort coming up. Lots of us think it's gonna be a disaster.
Y/n: Why?
Mingi: Because lots of shit goes down on trips like this. Last time, the admins had to separate a few girls because they were fighting.
Y/n: Damn. For what?
Mingi: They all thought sleeping with the same guy meant they were dating him. Next thing you know, they're fighting to see who's worthy to be his girlfriend.
Yeosang: Not my fault they got attached. I've made it clear plenty of times I was just there for fucking.
Y/n: I'm not surprised you were involved. How'd you get them to back off?
Yeosang: I'm still fucking them.
Of course he is.
Y/n: And on that note, I'm gonna go get a drink.
Jongho: I'll come with. Need more vodka.
You both get up, heading into the kitchen. You start fixing yourself some tequila, watching Jongho pour straight vodka into his cup.
Y/n: Rough night?
He shrugs, gulping down the alcohol.
Jongho: Raven and I got into a fight.
Y/n: For real? What about?
Jongho: It's stupid.
Y/n: It's not if it's bothering you. Come on, you can totally tell me.
Jongho: Not this. I'm still trying to figure out if she was right or just paranoid.
You furrow your eyebrows, but don't push further. If he needs time, you'll give it to him.
Y/n: Alright, then. Cheers to you solving your relationship problems soon.
He chuckles, clinking his red cup with yours.
He can't find it in his heart to tell you that you're the reason he's been arguing with Raven. She accused him of having feelings for you.
The idea was ridiculous at first. You're his best friend, of course you two would be close.
But then he started noticing the way he treats you over anyone else. He drops everything just to help you out. He laughs around you the most, feels happier too.
He was scared of accepting the possibility and chose to escalate their fighting more. Never once did he lay a hand on her, though. He just insults her, calls her insecure and jealous.
But he's starting to realize Raven was right as he looks at you. His heart beats faster, checking you out. The tight black dress fitting you perfectly.
He has the urge to fuck you in it. Right in that very kitchen.
Y/n: Dude!
He snaps out of his daze, looking at you attentively.
Y/n: I asked if you wanted to go somewhere quieter? This fucking music is blasting my eardrums.
Being alone with you in a room sounds like a terrible idea, but the vodka in his system is like a booster shot to his desires.
Jongho: Yeah. It's better than having to yell over the music.
You agree, heading up the stairs of the frat house. You open a familiar room, hoping it's empty. You sigh in relief seeing no one inside.
You plop onto the bed, not noticing your best friend locking the door.
Y/n: I think I shouldn't have pre-gamed. Yunjin made me take four double shots.
Jongho: Bad idea. You sleep with random strangers when the alcohol hits you.
Y/n: But I do end up with a new fuck buddy! Guess we'll find out who's the next victim later. Come lay down, maybe you need some rest.
No, he needs to fuck you.
Just to confirm his theories. Nothing else.
He slips in next to you, staring at the ceiling.
Jongho: Oh, look! They have those glow in the dark stars. I wonder who's room this is.
Y/n: It's Yeonjun's.
Jongho: How do you know?
Y/n: He's the guy I told you about. The fuck buddy that might become more.
Oh.
Jongho: Do you like him?
You stay silent. Yeonjun's nice and all, but he doesn't make you feel alive. The only guy to make you feel like that is unavailable.
Y/n: I think so. He's the only other guy I let into my dorm.
Jongho: There's others?
Y/n: Hell no. Just you and Yeonjun.
He wants to be the only guy allowed in your room.
You look at his hands and widen your eyes.
Y/n: When the fuck did you get a ring?
Jongho: Raven.
Awkward.
You clear your throat, turning on your side to play with the ring in his hand.
Y/n: It suits you. Makes your hands look even more pretty.
Jongho: You think they're pretty?
Fuck, you didn't mean to say that out loud.
Y/n: I didn't say that.
Jongho: It was implied.
Yeah, it was. But he has a girlfriend, you can't let your feelings for him drive you to do stupid things.
Jongho: You're staring at my hands.
Y/n: Hot.
Jongho smirks. He just discovered something new about you.
You've got a hand kink.
Jongho: Open your mouth, baby.
You widen your eyes at the petname. But he looks at you with a fond smile, so you immediately comply.
He shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you sigh in satisfaction. You've wanted this to happen for so long, it feels good to finally get it.
Jongho: Look at you, sucking like a sex-deprived whore.
You moan at his words, moving to sit on his crotch. He chuckles as you start to grind on him.
Jongho: Fucking hell, Y/n.
You start to feel him harden under you. He's fucking huge, it makes your mouth water more.
Jongho: Look at that, you're a drooling mess.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he rocks his hips up into you, goaded by the warm pressure that is your pussy.
You whimper, taking his other hand to your throat.
He lightly squeezes, pulling you down. His fingers in your mouth hit the back of your throat. You moan, rutting your hips even faster.
Jongho: Get naked.
You nod while climbing off. A pout forms on your face at no longer having his fingers in your mouth, but get so excited when he starts stripping as well.
Jongho: Lay down.
You do as he says, spreading your legs for him to see all of you.
Jongho: So pretty.
You giggle, opening your mouth in silent invitation.
Jongho: So cute.
He climbs over you, his cock rubbing against your clit. You moan, wanting him inside of you already.
Jongho: So impatient.
His left hand chokes you, his other back inside your mouth. You hum, smiling as his hips rut against you. His cock sliding up and down your folds, getting soaking wet.
Jongho: Wanna see what else my hands can do for you, baby?
You nod, anticipation filling your veins.
He takes his hand out your mouth, reaching down to slip into your warm cunt. You moan at the feeling knowing the music outside the room was drowning you out.
Jongho: Like my hands so much, might as well let them make you cum multiple times, hm? Would you like that?
You nod again. You desperately want him to go faster.
He squeezes your neck a little tighter, curling his fingers at a rapid pace. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, the pressure in your lower stomach intensifying.
Your orgasm hits strong, Jongho not giving you any time to rest. His fingers continue abusing you until you cum again. Your moans rival the loud bass of the music downstairs.
He takes his fingers out and shoves them into your mouth.
Jongho: Suck.
You don't have to be told twice, licking your juices clean. You moan when he shoves his cock into you with no warning.
Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
He uses his knees to push your legs up, slamming his hips at an angle that has you screaming even louder than you've been the entire night.
He laughs at your attempt to say something, but his fingers prevented you from doing so.
Jongho: What'd you say, baby? I can't understand you with my fingers in your mouth.
You let out a choked whine, cumming on his cock. He doesn't stop ramming his cock against your walls.
The reality of your actions only hit you now. You're fucking your best friend at a frat party. You remember that he's a taken man, tears building in your eyes.
He takes your tears as a sign that he's making you feel good, fucking you rougher.
Jongho: I love you. Always have.
Your worries go away, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. His girlfriend is nothing but a distraction, much like your handful of fuck buddies.
It's always been Jongho. It'll always be him.
You cum all over his cock again. His thrusts become sloppy, pulling out and spilling all over your stomach. He lays next to you, very out of breath.
Jongho: I love you.
You cuddle into his side, kissing his shoulder.
Y/n: I love you, too.
He kisses your temple, rubbing your back in soothing patterns.
Y/n: Please tell me you're getting rid of Raven.
He laughs, stroking your hair out of your face.
Jongho: Worry about that later. You and I are just getting started.
You yelp when he rolls you on top of him, aligning you onto his cock.
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a/n: the way i can definitely make a part two... oh well! thanks for reading ‹𝟹
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez fic#ateez x reader#atz fanfic#ateez ff#ateez smut#ateez oneshot#ateez au#atz smut#atz jongho#ateez jongho#ateez choi jongho#choi jongho#jongho#ateez jongho x reader#jongho smut#choi jongho smut#kinktober#kpop kinktober#idk what else to tag
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Emma To Bruce
Dear Bruce,
Sorry I haven’t written in you much lately. It’s been busy times around here.
Tuesday Julian and I were having breakfast — it’s been nice and sunny this last week, and the kitchen was pretty cheerful. I’ve become besotted with crumpets, and Julian is excellent at toasting them over the stove. We were having them with honey and butter when we heard a knock on the front door.
Julian jumped up. Now, about a day ago we got a message from Ty saying he was coming with Ragnor to Blackthorn Hall. He seemed really worried that Julian would be mad, but Julian wasn’t at all mad. He was nervous. He went around all day looking distracted and bumping into things, so when we went to bed at night I took his hand and wrote on his palm, the way we always used to do, tracing each letter. W-H-A-T A-R-E Y-O-U W-O-R-R-I-E-D A-B-O-U-T-?
We curled up together under the covers. He told me that he was worried because he used to be the person who took care of Ty, and now it had been more than a year and Ty had been taking care of himself. He said he used to know everything about Ty, when he got up and when he went to sleep, and what he liked to eat and do, and now he feels like he’s lost track of him somehow, like maybe it will feel like they’re strangers.
I told him he would never lose track of Ty and their relationship would always be special, it was just going to be different than it had been because Jules no longer has to take care of everyone and pretend he isn’t doing it. He doesn’t have to carry this big secret weight around, and responsibility is always a weight no matter how much you love the people you’re responsible for.
After that, he kissed me, and the rest, Bruce, is none of your business. Goodness, you like to pry.
Anyway, back to breakfast and the knock on the door. It was Ragnor, looking a sprightly shade of green, like an English meadow. He sailed right past Julian and began inspecting the drapes. Well, he was probably inspecting something magical, like the curse, but to me it looked like he was examining the curtains and the wallpaper. Maybe he’s thinking of decorating his own place. Or maybe he was just giving Julian some time alone with Ty, because Ty was still standing on the stairs, with a duffel bag over his arm, looking adorably awkward.
I wanted to run down and hug him but I hung back because I could feel in my bones that this was Ty and Jules’ moment. Jules was just standing in the doorway looking at Ty with his face all tight and then he said, “Come here,” in a rough sort of voice and Ty dropped his duffel bag and ran up the stairs and Julian hugged him so tightly I thought for sure he’d protest. But he didn’t. He just leaned into the hug. Jules rubbed his back and said, “Ty-Ty,” and I missed what happened next because I was keeping my eyes very wide open and trying not to blink. It’s the best way I know how to keep from crying.
Eventually they let go of each other, and we showed Ty and Ragnor around the first floor, which did feel a little weird, knowing that Ty had already been here two years ago with Livvy. I think we could all feel it, the sorrowful elephant in the room. Julian kept casting anxious glances at Ty, but Ty didn’t look sad, actually — more thoughtful. Eventually Julian told him he should go upstairs and pick out a bedroom. “Any room! There are lots to choose from. Whichever you want, you can decide how you want to decorate it. Anything you want to do.”
“And where will I be sleeping?” Ragnor said grumpily. “Stuffed up the chimney?”
Ty was already headed upstairs with Julian. I told Ragnor he could sleep wherever he wanted though I recommended the couch downstairs if he wanted to be Close to the Ghost. Rupert still tends to turn up most often in the dining room. Ragnor didn’t commit to this, but only wandered into the kitchen instead and started making tea. I offered him a crumpet to be hospitable and when Julian came back downstairs Ragnor was dripping honey on the counter.
“Can I see the ley-line map?” Jules asked. “Or are you too busy attracting ants?”
“No ants,” said Ragnor, around his crumpet. “Not the season.” He licked his fingers, stuck his hand into his jacket, and pulled out a huge rolled-up parchment which, first of all, he did not fit in the jacket without doing some magic, so let it never be said that Ragnor doesn’t like a dramatic gesture, even if he claims to be above that kind of thing. He unfurled it on the long dining table and weighted it down with a candlestick and some books along the edges.
It was a map of central London—it’s hard to miss the distinctive shape of the Thames snaking through the middle—but absolutely covered in lines in several different inks—red, blue, green, gold. And along the lines were astrological symbols and arrows and numbers and the occasional bit of Greek. You could barely read the street names.
“Your map of London is in Greek?” Julian said. “Also, aren’t you going to get honey on it.”
“Honey is good for parchment,” Ragnor said. “It’s a preservative. And it’s Coptic.”
“Your map of London is in Coptic?” I said.
Ragnor regarded it fondly. “It is. Believe it or not, it’s one of the most readable ley-line maps of the city I’ve found. Some of them are just impossible. This one is from the 1700s, they just wrote in Coptic to be difficult. Warlocks are like that.”
I know, I wanted to say, but I didn’t, because Ragnor was doing us a favor.
“Is your ghost afoot?” Ragnor said. He had withdrawn a large magnifying crystal and was peering through it at bits of the map.
“Not sure,” I said. “Rupert? We have a visitor who wants to meet you.”
Nothing happened.
“So he comes and goes,” Ragnor muttered, as though to himself. “Interesting.” He took a small leather notebook from his pocket and paged through it.
“Is it interesting?” Julian said. “Maybe he’s just shy around new people. Before we showed up he was alone here for fifty years or so.”
Ragnor looked up at Julian. “My boy, there are telephone calls I haven’t gotten around to returning that are that old.”
“Well, you should be a better correspondent,” Julian said, folding his arms. “Do you see anything on the map?”
Ragnor kind of hmphed and returned to the map. After a while he straightened up and said, “All right. Do you want to hear all the nitty-gritty details, or should I skip directly to conclusion?”
“Conclusion, please,” I said.
“I thought so,” Ragnor said. He sounded grumpy, for no reason I could imagine. That’s our Ragnor!
“Taking into account the different types of ley-lines and the various intersections, knots, and traces,” he said, “and assuming that the other objects are likely in central London, since all the others have been, and assuming that the objects are likely to be in locations relevant to the Shadow World…” He paused and cocked an eyebrow at us.
“With you so far,” Julian said.
“I see here and here as the most likely next search locations.” He had produced a pencil from somewhere, and he circled two spots on the map. “Here is the church of St. Mary Abchurch. And here…” He trailed off.
Julian leaned over the map where Ragnor was pointing. “Yes? It looks like just a street of townhouses in Soho.”
“Well,” said Ragnor, “once upon a time, for many years, there was an infamous Downworlder salon in one of these townhouses. The Hell Ruelle, it was called. It was a very clever name, you see, because a ruelle is a name for a kind of reception French aristocratic ladies used to hold in their bedrooms, a little like a salon, and also a ruelle is a narrow alley, such as the one this house is on.”
“Also,” I said seriously, “it rhymes.”
“Quite,” said Ragnor. “I’ve no idea what happened to it. Salons have been long out of fashion, but Downworlders do like their old-fashioned things. I’d wager it’s still a club of some kind, probably as scandalous as it was back in the day. Scandal never goes out of fashion, I’ve noticed.”
“We saw a playbill from there,” Julian told him. “It was displayed at the Herondale house on Curzon Street.”
Ragnor’s eyebrows went up. “You went to the Curzon Street house? What’s it like now?”
So Julian started telling Ragnor all about our visit there, which was fine because I wanted to go check on Ty. I had thought he might come downstairs to assist or at least observe Ragnor, but he’d apparently find someplace he liked and had remained there. Or some terrible dark magic had befallen him. But probably the first.
He was easy to find, at least—there are a lot of bedrooms but not that many, and besides, these old walls don’t do anything to block sound, and I could hear his voice in one of them. The “gray bedroom,” as Julian and I call it. It has a nice view of the duck pond.
I guess he was talking on the phone to someone; I could hear the pauses where he was listening to the other person. I thought I heard him say, “Well, I have no idea why, but it hasn’t been that long,” in reference to something, and then the door opened and he came out of the room. He immediately started at the sight of me standing in the hall. “Emma?”
“I just came up to see how you’re doing,” I said. “I think we’re going to get some takeaway in a bit. Is that the bedroom you like?”
“Yes,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the high windows. “It’s a good room, I think.”
“Were you talking to your sister?” I said.
He didn’t say anything — he sort of went red, then white. I wondered if he’d said something I wasn’t supposed to overhear, but I couldn’t imagine what. “I wasn’t listening,” I clarified. “I just assumed it was Dru.”
“Oh!” he said. “Yes. Yes, I was talking to Dru. She . . .”
“Probably wants to know what the bedrooms are like,” I said, trying to put him at ease. “Dru would definitely want the gothiest one.”
“Sure.” Ty and I started downstairs. “I’m not a good judge of what’s gothy, though.”
“I think the idea is ‘as creepy as possible,’” I said, and we reached the kitchen, where Jules and Ragnor were waiting. Ty relaxed pretty quickly; it turned out all he needed was (a) some tea and (b) to talk with Ragnor about the details of the ley-line map endlessly until food arrived and finally stopped them. Bruce, I swear at one point Ragnor told a joke in Coptic and Ty laughed. They’re hardcore over there at the Scholomance. Maybe too hardcore for me. But don’t get me wrong—it was very nice to have them here. It reminded me that when this project is complete and all the Blackthorns are here and can make it their own, this house could feel warm and friendly again. It didn’t even feel that cursed as we lay in front of the fireplace playing Clue (they call it Cluedo here) until Ty was falling asleep.
Update: Sunday night. Ragnor and Ty left this afternoon. It was really great to have them here, it was good for Julian and I to have other people here in the house to talk to other than the builders. Ty and Julian spent a bunch of time roaming around the gardens, deciding which old statues are ruined in a decorative, attractive manner, and which are just ruined. We’re going to have to get some new statues when we redo the garden, which Ty was very excited about; he thinks we should have one of Holmes holding a magnifying glass, and one of Watson.
The only weird thing is that Ghost!Rupert was missing for the whole visit, and then reappeared an hour after they left. We showed him the map and what Ragnor told us, and he just said he’s sure Ragnor is right. And it turns out he did talk to Ty at some point. He said Ty is “kind to ghosts.” Maybe Ty made him a ghost sandwich or read him a ghost bedtime story or something. Ty certainly didn’t say anything about it.
So, that’s all for now! I guess we’re going to head to St Mary Abchurch tomorrow afternoon, and then depending how that goes we’ll check out this townhouse and see if there’s still a scandalous Soho club there. Though what Ragnor would consider scandalous might not be that scandalous to us. I guess we’ll find out! For all we know it’s just some guy’s house and he’ll be very confused to see us!
Good night, Bruce. It’s nice to think of what it will be like when all the Blackthorns are here and the place is full of noise and activity. It’s the first time since we started I’ve really been able to envision it, even through the curse. Meanwhile, I’m going to tuck a Polaroid of us playing Cluedo here between these pages in case you want something to look at later.
— Emma
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All I Have Is Yours
Chapter Two
Rated Explicit | Warnings: rough sex (past), semi-dubcon, norton is trying tm
tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife
Ao3
Chapter One
A New Year's wedding is what your family is talking about currently, not that you are paying much attention to it. In the moment, as they talk about all the ceremonial stuff in the other room, the living room, Norton held all of your actual attention.
It was rocky this past month learning one another, him trying not to scare you with his mood swings but the voice sometimes gets too loud. When he sees you gazing upon him with love in your eyes when you say sweet words, or how you try to include him into this foreign lifestyle. He more than once heard the voice telling him to shut you up.
The words you say with a gentle smile or wide full smile. Everything you say replays in his head when alone.
“You look dashing, Norton.” Fixing his tie and brushing it down.
“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure if you liked sweets.” A mess from trying to bake a variety of cakes with your maid.
“Oh, and if you look there you see the lake! It gets frozen pretty quick in the winter and people ice skate on it.” You smile with endless cheer.
The madness it drives him into! The inner struggle you created within him and Norton found himself at one point losing the battle. Two weeks into the marriage, when you were explaining your father's assets, finances, and estate. Norton was one of the very few miners that could read, granted it was not on your level but he could at least read his father's journal and the posts on board for work.
The voice was too loud that day, you were— Are— too beautiful that day. God, he wishes he could blame anything but himself but in the end, he should have left the second he felt the pain in his chest and whispers becoming twisted. The voice, this darkness within him, made him believe and realize how much he wanted to fuck you like a whore. Of course, it is because this is going to be the ultimate way to get back your father, to ruin the dead fool’s sweet precious brat.
One second he turns to you, the next, you are under him on the desk.
You lay there staring up at him with wide eyes then covering your face with your hands.
“Please, be gentle.” Trembling as he crawls on the bed then up your body, “Norton.” He hates how scared you sounded on that day when the wind was howling outside and the house was warm but he felt cold. The chanting of take the brat, make them squeal, break them, Norton! Echoing in his head over and over. Norton’s hands shook, his breathing was heavy as if he had run a mile, and his body tense. There will be no point of return for both of you.
He never laid with anyone before nor have you. The moment was not as ideal as you wanted, he was rough and it hurt a lot. The moment made Norton feel like a monster as he saw you crying in pain.
That is why right now, in the smoking room, door locking, the former prospector is doing everything possible to make this experience enjoyable: for both of you.
You took initiative, you stopped him from meeting the family, you locked the door, you got on your knees, and took him into your mouth.
Norton is a mess, the sort of mess to be fighting to keep quiet while also saying how fucking hot you look like this. He didn't cum, no, he knew it would be too soon.
“Stay like that for me.” His voice rough and unfiltered desire, “God.” Slicking his hair back as he takes in the view of you partly dressed and flustered. Your makeup is ruined, he grins at the way you cannot hold his gaze. “What inspired this, my treasure?”
“...” You shrugged.
“Sit.” Standing up and moving around to stand behind you, “Legs over the armrests.” You do so. Norton wants you completely exposed.
There you are in nothing but your smalls completely on display for his eyes only. You kissed him back eagerly, his lips kissing your lips then your forehead as he kneels in front of you.
“You don't have to.” Shy.
“I do. I want to.” Assertive, yet gentle.
Slipping off your underwear, he can see how wet you are. A hint of pride in his smirk as he barely touched you, of course, the man before you blew him was grinding his leg between yours. Touching everywhere, marking every place he could reach, whispering in your ear how naughty of a thing you are.
“Ah—!” Sensitive as all Norton did was trace the outer lip of your cunt. “Hmm!” Cover your mouth with both hands.
Next time he is going to tie your hands behind your back. For now, he thinks it is cute how though married to you, you keep your voice down because family is nearby. A part of him wants it to be clearly announced how well fucked you are daily. Because you are his and just one taste of you is not enough.
Your legs squeezing and locked behind his head, your heads pulling forward as Norton, the hum of approval he makes has you telling him not to stop. He devours you like you are his last meal, one he does not care how messy his face and hair are after this. There will be pride in knowing how his disheveled appearance happened.
“Oh, there, please!” His fingers assist and find something that has you seeing stars. “Ah, Norton, Norton, my love!”
This time is a lot better, when his eyes land on your face it is not contorted in pain but the bliss you deserved and are owed the first time. He was apologetic after, he did anything and everything he could to try to fix his mistake. Even when you told him you understood, giving him mercy where he felt he needed penance.
“One more for me, (Name).”
One more, one more became two more and you struggled to keep your voice down.
When he finally sank his cock into your heat, Norton did not move immediately. He waited with you writhing under him begging him to move. “Sh, sh, I've got you.” Kissing you sharing the taste of one another as you both explored each other's mouth.
“I need you, Norton!” Whining, “Please, please.” This torturous to have him properly only to have stopped. His hands soothing you, his sweet nothing making your pussy squeeze around him.
“You like that idea?” Teasing you when he told you his promise to fuck you in every spot in the room. “I am willing to bet you thought this a lot.” He groans as helps you grind against him. Barely any relief but it is something! “Go on, say it.” The position switched to him sitting and you on his lap, naked while he still had his pants and shoes on.
“Norton.” You can barely think! The laugh, dark and rich, you could feel it against your chest. “A… A lot.” Everyone has fantasies!
“Heh, you got it bad for me.” As if he is any better with you chipping at his walls with your damn genuine love for him.
“I love you.” Moaning too loud when you finally, God finally, can move properly. The growl from your husband hits in a way unexpected. Your hands on his shoulders as you ride him— Not that greatly but Norton makes up for it by guiding you.
Over and over, the bliss is shared and found, you kiss him over and over, and Norton marks you shamelessly.
“Inside,” Panting, “Need.”
“Damnit.” You are too good for him.
When you cum, he cums with you. Romantic and not intentional, it is far more amazing than last time. Seeing you drunk from his cock is… Inspiring.
“The pool table.”
You hum softly not paying attention until you are caught by surprise to be lifted in his arms then pinned down on the table he said. “Norton?”
“I promised to take you on every piece of furniture here, my doting love.”
Neither of you heard the knock from the maid who smiles hearing two. Though now the butler is going to have to distract your family longer…
#idv#idv x you#idv reader insert#idv x reader#idv prospector#reader insert#ao3 fanfic#norton campbell#norton campbell x reader#norton campbell x you#identity v x you#identity v x reader#idv norton
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Idk if you're still making this, but I want to let you know that we're waiting for BoB Lovetropes p2. My suggestions: Toye, Eugene, Malarkey, Guarnere, Luz, Sobel. Hope you're doing okay <3
A/n: I've been dealing with some stuff lately and now finally have a little time to catch up on old stuff. I also want to apologize anon I couldn't bring myself to soble. Sorry couldn't do it.
-Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of language, got wayyy to carried away with malarkey’s, oops. Might have to turn that into its own thing, if it's not already. Luz is slightly spicy, nothing crazy but you cant miss it.-
Masterlist
Joe Toye
-grumpy vs sunshine trope. Omggggg, the idea of this has me kicking my feet and giggling. Joe Toye is rough around the edges, tough skin. You on the other hand have always been the positive one, keeping the people around you spirits high. Being an optimist of sorts. Maybe not cheerful but you could definitely make someone's day. Yet behind his grumpy facade, he can't help but notice your unwavering optimism. He wasn't opposed to love; he just never expected to be swept off his feet so quickly by one person. Your personality was anything but the same. Never in a million years did he think he was going to fall in love with a bright and shiny person, which was the exact reason why he loved you so much. You two were like night and day. You were the beacon of light in all the darkness. I feel like Toye would also be super protective over you. Kinda the same vibe as liebgott. But that's for another time.
“Is that a smile I see on your face toye?” “I'm one lucky bastard you realize that?”
Eugene roe
-office romance/forced proximity. I didn't exactly know what to call this one. Both you and roe are easy company medics. Gene from the start, harbord a crush on you. And mean big time crush. Thinking about you he got butterflies in his stomach. You both spent significant time together. Typically the only times you were separated is when you were attending to fellow paratroopers. Bastogne was a turning point. You were in a jeep headed to the church, your hand and a cloth being the soul thing keeping a man alive. You almost made it before the church burst into flames. When Gene heard what happened he got the first ride possible to bastogne. When he saw you, hand now on a clearly dead man, he took you into his arms. He brought you back to the Adrennes forest. As usual you spent the night in genes fox hole the only difference was you both saw what was right in front of you for the first time and kissed. It wasn't until Austria where he gave you a promise ring where he promised to spend and devote the rest of his life with you.
“you make me the happiest man you know that y/n?”
“Tell me that again at our wedding”
Donald Malarkey
-friends to lovers? Maybe a sprinkle of enemies to lovers?? I don't know but here me out. So you join the paratroopers as a female, the reason you got in was from connections in the army. Seeing how even if you are the most talented female there is, it's still the 40s here. I wouldn't think that the Toccoa men would flat out bully you, but would more just not believe in you. Probably leave you out of a lot of things. Kind of just pretend you weren't there. But not malarkey. He saw something in you that the rest didn't. Honestly he was shocked to see how they treated you. You were the best paratrooper there was in this company. You stood your ground. You met and exceeded in all categories. Passed each test with flying colors. You also were able to do it with the most incredible smile. As much as you disliked it, he stood up for you. Complimented and congratulated you when you did well. You really liked him. He was cute, kind, and not a douche wad. But sadly, most guys here if they weren't mean, they were trying to get Into your pants. As much as you wouldn't mind that with malarkey, you weren't here for that. One day in Aldbourne England you had enough. You weren't going to get swooned into bed and he had to know it. When you had a spare moment you grabbed him and pulled him aside and told him to stop. He was bewildered that this is how you perceived him. He explained to you that was not his intention. You could hear the sincerity of his voice. He meant it. This was the start of your friendship. You both were like a thing but not? Kinda a situationship. But it wasn't official until Haguenau. The effects of war painted across your faces. In one of the houses you laid in one of the beds, trying for the hundredth time to get some rest to no avail. He came and found you. There was little and a lot to say. Instead he kissed you. The past two years of friendship melted instantly into a lifetime of love.
“god i've wanted you to do that for a long time”
“What happened to ‘I'm not here for a relationship’?”
“shut the fuck up and kiss me again would ya”
William Guarnere
-Enemies to lovers. Come on, this is so perfect. Guarnere is a natural bully. He bullies everybody all the time, but you? He loves bullying you. He always has an insult special for you up his sleeve. However, that's a lie. He hates it to his core. You are the sweetest person ever. All he wants to do is not bully you. He's somewhere in the middle of liebgott and Speers. He doesn't want to be seen as weak. He has this demnor he feels the need to uphold and that everybody around him expects. Not some ooey gooey man. Even though if he could he'd probably worship you. You were perfect in his eyes. He hates himself more and more but the more he digs himself into this hole the harder it is for him to get out. He finally cracks when someone else makes a particular mean stab at you one day at a bar in holland. He can hate himself all he fucking wants for bullying you. But somebody else is doing it? Hurting you? Not going to happen. He breaks his nose, jaw, maybe a rib or two, black eye and busted lip, all before he could get ripped off this guy. You get wind of this later. Within minutes you're confronting him. Before he shuts you up with a kiss.
“I thought you hated me”
“Hate you? No, For fuckes sake sweetheart, I'm in love with you”
George Luz
-meet cute. You originally met just before you signed up to be paratroopers. And I mean just before. You were getting blood work done to test how fit you were to fight. As you waited in the lobby to fill out paperwork, you went to reach for your pen. That's when you realized it wasn't there. It just so happens that a very cute guy next to you had an extra with him. You quickly filled the paper and exchanged names and conversations. On the way home you couldn't get him out of your head. So couldn't he. Later when you were assigned to easy company you found the one and only George luz. The same extremely handsome guy at the clinic. He immediately recognized you. How could he not? Your face and laugh had been at the front of his thoughts a lot lately. You tried to keep both of your composure during Toccoa seeing how you didn't want to get into any trouble. But that all fell apart after one weekend with a pass and some alcohol. Kisses were shared, clothes were shed and hands roamed. After that night you made it official. Luz also started writing his vows.
“you know I've never felt this way before”
“What the sex or me? Because If it wasn't the sex let me know so we can go again”
“both luz, but I can't turn that offer down now can I”
#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers headcanon#band of brothers x reader#joe toye x reader#eugene roe x reader#Donald Malarkey x reader#george luz x reader
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Sebastian sallow one shot: Sebastian breaks a rule just to make reader smile
I love this idea!
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Request: Sebastian sallow one shot: Sebastian breaks a rule just to make reader smile.
Description: Y/N has been having a rough time after the death of Professor Fig. They just go through the motions and fake smiles. Sebastian notices this, and decides he's gotta get to you to make you smile- rules be damned.
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"Honestly, yes. I think they need that." Poppy smiled at the idea Sebastian presented, "It should be easy to actually get you into our dorms, but we need you to go unnoticed by the others. I don't want anyone turning you in because they have a thorn in their side."
Sebastian hummed in thought, the idea coming to him, "I got it! Y/n has a stash of Polyjuice potion! You distract them for the day, and I can disguise myself as you! Although I'm sure I'll need help decorating..."
Poppy thought for a second, munching on the honey bun that Sebastian had brought her to butter her up. "Whats Anne up to? I know she's feeling better, and I feel like she'd love this. She can disguise herself as y/n."
Sebastian grins, "Poppy, you genius little creature. Maybe you should have been in Ravenclaw."
Poppy laughs, "Maybe, Sallow. Maybe. I'll get y/n out of the castle tomorrow... and I'll sneak you our hair tonight at dinner. I'll tuck it into a book and act like you let me borrow it."
Sebastian hopped up in excitement, "Wonderful, I'll write to Anne right away. Thank you, Poppy."
Poppy watched the boy begin to strut away, laughing to herself. That kid was so head over heels for y/n.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Poppy. I love you, I really do. But please tell me where it is you're dragging me?" You force a laugh as your friend pulls you through the back alley of some small hamlet you've surprisingly never been too.
"Just wait-" she pulls you through the narrow exit of the alley, straight into a street out of a fairytale. A cobblestone road, lined on either sides with shops with thatched roofs. Beautiful jack o lanterns line the walkways, and leaves flutter through the air like butterflies. You can't help but take a deep breath, amazed.
"Oh, Poppy." You breathe out, looking at the scene infront of you. There's a flower shop, a bakery, a book store, a clothing store... it's all amazing.
"I thought you could use a nice, calm day. So I brought you to my favorite place." Poppy smiles at you proudly.
"Let's go, we've got lots of shopping to do!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, the Sallow twins stood in the detention room, knowing there was no way they'd get caught in there.
"Poppy's Polyjuice looks like sunshine." Anne watched in amazement as sebastian swirled the bottle.
Her eyes fell back to the bottle in her hand, in which a gossamer liquid swirled, so deeply amber that in certain lights it appeared black. Sebastian looked up from under his brows at his sister, laughing at the apprehensive look in her eyes, "Y/n drank a Polyjuice potion that turned them into Professor Black. They said it looked like someone bottled vomit. you'll be just fine." He held out the bottle and clicked it against Anne's, "Slàinte."
She huffed a small laugh, returning the cheers before downing the bottle. For a moment, the twins felt nothing- then all at once, their bones began shifting. Muscles and skin stretched and shrank, hair growing and changing color.
Before they knew it, they both stood there staring at each other... well. Sort of.
"I never realized how much smaller Poppy is than me," Sebastian chuckled, looking around at his now small frame basically swimming in his clothes.
Anne laughed, but it came out as y/n musical laugh that Sebastian had grown to love so much... the laugh he hadn't heard in ages, "Seb, I'm really hoping you brought their uniforms to change into?"
Sebastian laughed, taken aback by the girlish sound, "Yeah, here. In my bag."
They quickly changed, Sebastian keeping his eyes glued to the ceiling to he didn't see any part of Poppy that she wouldn't want.
"Seb, really. You didn't even put on the stockings?" Anne laughed.
"No way. Those things are like sausage casinos, and if anyone is eyeing Poppy- well, me- close enough to notice I'll punch them in the nose."
"Fair enough, let's go."
The two managed to make it to the Hufflepuff common room entrance unnoticed, and paused staring at the barrels.
"Well, go ahead." Sebastian gestures to the barrels.
"What? Me? Absolutely not!" Anne scoffed.
"I am NOT about to be squirted by this evil thing."
"This was your idea. Besides, you shouldn't get squirted." Anne rocked back on her heels, and took a few steps back, "Assuming you get it right."
Sebastian huffed, approaching the barrels apprehensivly. He brought his fist to the one that Poppy had indicated, took a deep breath and began the knock.
Hel-ga Huff-le-puff
There was a split second where Sebastian winced, completely sure that he was about to get drenched in the foul smelling liquid, but then the door opened.
"Oh thank Merlin," and let out a sigh of relief, "I was afraid you'd be strayed and I'd have to listen to you whine all day."
Sebastian followed his sister, ducking through the enterance, "Very funny."
Entering the Hufflepuff common room, the twins had to keep the look of awe off of their faces. Where Slytherins common room was dark and elegant, Hufflepuff's was cozy and warm. Plants seemed to grow out of every nook and cranny, and the smell of sweets pervaded the air.
Sebastian and Anne could've explored for hours, if it wasn't for the voice that rang out from a couch a few meters away.
"Oh Poppy! There you are!" Adelaide Oaks scurried over, a huge smile on her face, "I was hoping you could help me out a bit with this Magical Creatures essay, I've really been struggling with-"
Sebastian cut her off, "No- uh," he cleared his throat attempting to copy Poppy's way of speaking, "I'm sorry, I mean I can't right now. How about later this evening? Y/n will be on a date with Sebastian. But don't tell her that when you see her, it's a surprise."
Adelaide eyes flickered behind Sebastian, to where Anne was standing, "Oh goodness, I guess she knows now! Don't mind me, I didn't get nearly enough sleep. You know me, mind always on puffskiens. Hehe. Well anyways, got to go. See you this evening byee!" Sebastian grabbed his sister's hand, dragging her towards the dorms and away from a befuddled Adelaide.
Anne giggled, "Did you really just say hehe? What the bloody hell was that, Seb?"
Not letting go of her arm, Sebastian continued scurrying down the hallway to the dorm he knew to be Y/n and Poppy's, "I don't know Anne! I panicked, okay? I don't know what girls say!"
"Well, it's definitely not 'hehe'. Atleast in that tone anyway. You're lucky Poppy is known to be an odd ball."
Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Whatever, come on. Get in here."
The twins closed the door behind them, and turned to inspect the room they were working with.
"This is so cozy!" Anne squealed a bit, looking around. She found her way over to what she knew to be Y/n's bed, picking up a picture frame from the nightstand. Encased behind the glass was a moving picture of y/n, Ominis, and Sebastian. In the center, Ominis is stood with his arms crossed, his face feigning annoyance as y/n pinches his cheeks and throws her head back in laughter. On the other side, Sebastian throws his head back in laughter, then looks at the hufflepuff with such adoration.
"Man Seb," Anne giggles, "You really have it bad for them, huh?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes, "Yes. I do. Now please help me decorate, nosey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poppy and MC finally returned to the castle later than evening, no longer wearing the school robes they had left in. Poppy had forced y/n to buy a new outfit, telling them that retail therapy is the best therapy. Sweeting then proceeded to drag MC to the flower shop where she proceeded to weave all sorts of matching flowers into her hair.
Y/n had to admit, they felt rather attractive for the first time in a long time. Approaching the barrels, they waited for Poppy to knock, complaining, "I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me get any food from the tavern. I'm starving, Poppy!"
Poppy chuckled stepping towards the door as it opens, "How about this; you go put the stuff we bought in out dorm and I'll start working on my homework for a bit. If you're still hungry we will go to the kitchens."
"Ugh," Y/n groaned dramatically, "Fiiiine."
The trek to Y/n and Poppy's dorm was short, and Y/n didn't see anyone. She figured they were all at dinner, where she wished she was. Opening the door, she is assaulted by the smell of sweets.
Entering the room, Y/n is beyond surprised at the scene infront of her. The beds, desks and normal furniture were missing. Instead, the outside of the room was lined with large, soft pillows and blankets, and in the center of the room were short- almost ground level- tables overflowing with all sorts of foods and drinks. The air was warm and inviting, filled with twinkling lights that y/n quickly realized were fire flies. Fairylights covered the walls, and convering the ceiling was a golden shimmering enchantment, unlike anything they had seen before. Their eyes fell to the figure that quickly stood up from the cushions.
Sebastian.
Their voice was light with awe and wonder, "Seb, what is all of this?"
He walked forward, taking her hand and leading them to the cushions near the food, "Well y/n," Sebastian began, "Since everything that's happened, you've been depressed. Rightfully so, of course. But I missed seeing you smile and laugh. Genuinely smile and laugh, not that show you've been putting on for everyone."
MC sat on the floor, Sebastian taking his place beside them as he continued speaking, "So, I thought to myself: what makes y/n smile? Breaking rules, sweets, the stars, and these freaky little twinkling bugs. It took me a bit, but I managed to put them all together."
The cheesy grin full of pride that sat on Sebastians face was enough to make MC laugh, and the though of someone going through all of this, doing all of this, just for them made them tear up.
"Oh Seb, this is amazing." Y/n threw their arms around Sebastian, pulling away after a moment to look at his face. His eyes flickered to Y/n's lips, then scanned their face.
His voice came breathlessly as he tucked a strand of hair behind their ear, "You look breathtaking, by the way."
Sebastian leaned in, pressing his lips lightly to theirs. In a moment, they pull away just enough, their foreheads still touching and smile on their face, "Seb, if you wanted to make me smile all you had to do was kiss me."
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#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy oneshot#hogwarts legacy imagine#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#hogwarts#hogwarts imagine#hogwarts oneshot#wizarding world#wizarding world imagines#hogwarts fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fanfic#imagine requests#ask#answer#answered
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the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)
a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!
tv show/movie: harry potter
pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader
requested
part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!
description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic
warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!
note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.
taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss
a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist
masterlist | taglist | navigation
-not my gif -
The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves.
“And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup.
Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game.
Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting.
“Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed.
They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd.
His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them.
She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..
“It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively.
“You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him.
“Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.”
“Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”
“Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.”
____
Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games.
Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing.
Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers.
“Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up.
She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her.
Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable.
“Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs.
She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies.
“Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.”
“It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely.
“Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers).
____
“It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens.
“You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff.
“I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear.
“I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.”
He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.
“Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice.
Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them.
Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground.
“This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-”
She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising.
“I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.
“I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.
#oliver wood#oliver wood x reader#oliver wood imagines#oliver wood x fem!reader#oliver wood x shy!reader#x shy!reader#shy!reader#harry potter#oliver wood preferences#oliver wood one shot#oliver wood fanfiction#oliver wood fic#oliver wood x y/n#oliver wood x you#pappydaddy writes#oliver wood request#oliver wood fluff#oliver wood fics#oliver wood imagine#oliver wood oneshot
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kxuke - part 2
kxuke [ˈk’u.kɛ] adj. safe
Request from @myrealmstuff: Part 2 for Kxuke please, it's so beautiful.
+
Request from @hyunjinoak: Can I request Neteyam x reader story where the reader is pregnant and going through a really tough pregnancy complications and Neteyam is helping it? Nnd when the reader has difficult delivery (heavy bleeding / too long contraction or something like that) Neteyam helps reader and in the end have a healthy baby?
Part 1 [Summary: A Marine avatar, part of Quartich's team, is held captive by the Sullys. She is tough but damaged from an abusive upbringing on earth. Slowly, she and Neteyam fall for each other, and she is granted new life in her avatar body by Eywa. Neteyam's family is not pleased, but Neteyam asks her to be his mate. You should probably read Part 1 before reading Part 2.]
TW: blood, pregnancy
Watching the last remaining ship leave is surreal for me. Everyone I knew in my previous life now gone, suspended in sleep for six years, back to the planet I once called home.
It doesn't feel like home now, when I think it about it. It sort of feels like a nightmare; the abuse I suffered at the hands of my parents, multiple partners; the relief I felt when joining the marines, only to realize I had become the oppressor and abuser.
Never once have I regretted my decision to turn my back on my people. Maybe I should... but they never did a damn thing for me but use and abuse me, my entire life.
Though my new family was hard-won, they have never hurt me, or yelled at me, or made me feel little and stupid.
Tuk and Kiri were the quickest to accept me, with Lo'ak soon after. Then came Jake, because as it turned out, we had quite a lot in common. Rough upbringing. Marine background. Abandoning our race for a new one. You don't often meet other people in that situation. Our mutual understanding turned to friendship, and then a familial like relationship.
Neytiri was the hardest, but it was her mother's heart that got her in the end. It just came out, on a hunt, a story about my own mother, and something she'd done to me when I was barely out of diapers.
Something in Neytiri changed towards me in that moment, and she held me in her arms as I cried, and told me she would try to be a better mother to me.
Now I stand with my family, my mate Neteyam, and I place my hand over my swollen stomach as the cheering erupts around me at the joy and relief everyone feels. The baby is kicking again; he must be able to feel my happiness.
We are finally free.
--
The pregnancy has not been easy on me. I try every day to feel joyful about the new life I'm bringing into the world, and grateful to be staring my own family with Neteyam, but I am so tired, all of the time.
The simplest tasks have become exhausting, especially as the pregnancy has gotten to its final stages. Tsahik tells me I need to rest, and that she thinks the birth will be difficult... so that's something to look forward to.
Neteyam practically carries me in his arms everywhere we go, and dotes on me so aggressively that it sends me to tears at least three times a day.
Everything makes me cry. Neytiri tells me it's normal, but it feels embarrassing nonetheless. I burst into tears when Tuk squeezes my hand as we walk, or when I see another mother with a small child, and nearly every time Neteyam does anything nice for me.
Which is almost constantly. Neteyam is thoughtful, caring, and constantly going the extra mile to make me comfortable. I thought I loved him before, but I know now that every day, I will love him a little bit more - even when it feels like I couldn't possibly love him more, he does something so small but so meaningful, like bringing me home a flower for my hair, and my love for him explodes.
Just a few short weeks after the humans have returned to earth, I wake up in a searing hot pain, all around my abdomen, and shooting through my lower back.
"Oh my god!" I scream in English. "Neteyam! Something's wrong! Or, it's happening, maybe!"
Neteyam leaps up next to me, squatting beside me, grabbing my arm to support me.
"Happening?" he asks, also in English. It's so hard to speak in a second language when I'm in so much pain, even if I would consider myself fluent.
"Get Tsahik. And your mom!" I holler, but there are already footsteps approaching.
"I am here!" Neytiri says, running through the door. I guess that's a benefit to having your in-laws just steps away. "Jake is bringing Ronal. What do you feel?"
"Pain," I reply, switching back to Na'vi. "Here, and here," I gesture all around my waist, and my back.
Neytiri tsks. "Bah, back labor. It will be painful. Ronal will bring medicine to help."
I lean onto Neteyam, wondering what the Na'vi equivalent of an epidural is.
--
It is not until two days later that I hold my son in my arms. Looking into his eyes here, the pain of the past hours is already fading away in my mind.
The screaming, the blood, the pushing and tearing; the throbbing pain I feel even now... it doesn't matter.
He is beautiful. Four fingers like Neteyam, eyebrows like me, and his hair seems to almost have a reddish shine to it, but it could just be the sunrise. His cheeks are round and when he opens his eyes, they're a beautiful amber color. He has been attached to my breast since the moment he came into the world, but now, he is sleeping peacefully. Ronal has sewn me up and left medicine behind for me to take, and Neteyam's family waits outside until they're given the go-ahead to come in. Only Neytiri has met her grandson; I demanded she be there for the entire birth, and she did not leave my side.
It was the first time in my life that I truly felt a mother's love.
"Take him, Neteyam," I say. "Hold your son."
There are tears in his eyes as he reaches out and takes the swaddled baby.
"Remove his blanket, put him right on your chest. It's good for them, to be skin to skin." I don't know how much of my limited earth knowledge of babies will apply here, but surely that's correct.
"He's so beautiful, and warm," Neteyam says, holding his naked son to his chest. I lay the blanket over him, and Neteyam strokes his tiny back. "I love him so much. I love you so much." He looks at me, the tears falling freely now for both of us.
"You saved my life, Neteyam. I never imagined I would have any of this. I am so grateful to you."
Neteyam leans over gently, and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. "Thank you for this gift, Y/N. You are my treasure."
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Haze
Their toddler is sick and sleeping in their bed, so Aaron and Emily have some...alone time in the shower.
-x-
Hi friends,
It's been a little while since I wrote some smut so here we are. This is very much a combo of smut and family/domestic fluff - so I hope you enjoy it <3
This is a little gift for my bestie @cloudlessly-light!
Please let me know what you think!
-x-
Warnings: Smut, 18+, their kid throws up but it's not in any detail
Words: 3.1k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Aaron steps out of the ensuite into the master bedroom and smiles when he sees his wife and youngest son snuggled together in bed. Emily smiles up at him as she runs her fingers through Elliot’s hair, slowly lulling the two-year-old to sleep.
“He still has a fever,” Emily says, briefly pressing her palm against Elliot's head and wincing at the temperature of it, “The Tylenol helped, but he still feels rough,” she presses her lips together and sighs sadly, her heart aching as it always did when one of the boys were sick, “He told me his stomach feels icky.”
Aaron smiles as he climbs into bed with them, “When I spoke to his teacher at Daycare she said it’s been going around for a few weeks,” he says, leaning in to stamp a kiss against her lips before he pulls back, settling onto his side of the bed, “He’ll be okay in a couple of days.”
“I know,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek as she looks down at her son, the sight of his flushed skin making her stomach churn, “Doesn’t make it any easier to watch.”
He shifts closer, careful to not disturb Elliot as he loops his arm around Emily’s shoulders. He remembered the first time Jack got sick after they got together, how she’d immediately become his son’s place of comfort. It had always been the case with Elliot too, the little boy had always been all about his mother since the moment he was born. Aaron couldn’t blame his sons for it, he knew it was one of the many things they got from him, her comfort and embrace something he craved, something he can’t remember living without.
“I know, sweetheart,” he says sympathetically, “but he’ll be back to his normal self in-”
Aaron is cut off as Elliot suddenly sits up, just lifting his head from Emily’s chest far enough to throw up, taking him and both of his parents by surprise. Emily grimaces as it gets all over the sheets and she feels some of it land on her t-shirt, but she puts her own discomfort aside and rubs her son’s back as Aaron stands up and quickly steps into the bathroom to grab the trashcan and he brings it back out, placing it in front of his son.
“You’re okay, sweet boy,” Emily says, rubbing his back as he finishes, sniffing as he looks up at her, his face sticky with tears, “You all done?”
“Sorry, Mama,” he says as he nods, his eyes shining as his chin trembles.
“Oh, it’s okay baby,” she says, smiling up at Aaron as he nods in agreement with her, “You didn’t mean to get sick. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”
Elliot nods and she smiles at him, cupping his cheek for a moment before she stands up and lifts him onto her hip. She turns to look at Aaron and sighs gratefully when she sees he’s already got fresh bedding out, that she was lucky enough to be married to someone whom she didn’t need to ask to help.
“I’ll take the opportunity to give him a lukewarm bath,” she says, walking towards the ensuite, “Try and get his fever down a little more.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” he replies, “I’ll get everything sorted in here,” he can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was barely holding herself together because their little boy was sick. The kids had always been her Achilles heel, the chink in her anchor. He smiles at her, “Remember when we used to change the sheets before bed for fun reasons?”
She laughs, shaking her head at him as she does so, “Feels like a long time ago right now.”
He winks at her, “We still have a lot of fun.”
She smiles gratefully at him for cheering her up a little, for knowing her well enough to know how to.
“We can have some fun when someone is back in his own bed,” she says as she turns into the bathroom and places Elliot down on the closed toilet seat. She kneels in front of him and smiles encouragingly as she starts to help him out of his pjyamas. “You’ll feel better after a bath, Eli,” she says, pulling his pyjama shirt over the top of his head and tossing it towards the hamper, “And then we’ll get back into bed.”
“I made mess,” he says, his eyes still shining up at her, and she swears she can hear her heart break. She wishes she could make him feel better, that she could take the sickness away from him and endure it herself, but she settles for what she can do - provide the comfort he needs.
“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose,” she says, repeating what she’d said in the bedroom as she stands up and starts running a bath, “And Daddy is cleaning it all up,” she smiles as she leans down, making a point of winking at him to try and make him smile, “He’s always clearing up my messes.”
Elliot giggles, the sound briefly warming her chest until it turns into a cough. She lifts him, carrying him over to the bath and gently lowering him into it. She gives a bath, smiling to herself as he starts to get sleepy even though he’s sitting in lukewarm water. By the time she’s done and wrapping him up in a fluffy towel the door to the bathroom opens and Aaron pops his head in, smiling softly at Emily.
“The bed is all done,” he says, stepping into the room, “And I got some fresh pjyamas for him out of his room,” he watches as Emily lifts Elliot onto her hip, the toddler snuggled up in the towel she’d wrapped him in. Emily had always been beautiful to Aaron, even long before he had a right to think it back when he was married to someone else. She’d only got more beautiful over the years, impossibly more gorgeous to him as time went on. He’d seen her in designer dresses and tailor-made suits, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her more beautiful than she was right now - standing in their ensuite, their youngest son wrapped up in her arms and vomit stains on her t-shirt. He smiles as he steps towards them, his arms offered out towards Elliot, “Want me to take him? I can get him ready for bed and you can jump in the shower if you want,” the corner of his lips turn up into a smile, “You definitely got the worst of it.”
She nods, the feel of her t-shirt sticking to her skin was driving her crazy, and she knew she couldn’t get back into fresh sheets without washing her hair. She presses a kiss to Elliot’s head before she passes him over.
“You go with Daddy, okay?”
She’s grateful when the toddler doesn’t argue, simply resting his head against Aaron’s shoulder in a way that lets her know he’ll be asleep in minutes. She blows out a breath as she walks towards the shower, stripping herself of her pyjamas and dumping them in the hamper alongside Elliot’s.
She relaxes as soon as the hot water hits her skin, immediately easing some of the tension in her back and shoulders. She washes her hair twice, humming softly to herself as she does so. She smiles when she hears the door to the bathroom open again, and she peers out of the shower, her smile getting wider as she watches Aaron close the door behind him.
“Is he okay?” She asks, and Aaron nods in response.
“Already fast asleep,” he replies, the heat of the bathroom cloying, the steam flowing through the room letting him know his wife had the temperature up high just like she always did. He can’t bring himself to care as he watches droplets of water running down the soft valleys of her skin, freckles and scars and curves he was intimately familiar with almost shining in the low light of the room. He feels his sweatpants get a little tighter and he steps towards the shower, already taking his t-shirt off as he speaks, “Need help in there?”
She chuckles as she turns to look at him, her expression turning incredulous as she sees that he’s serious, standing in front of her as he reveals that he’s already half hard as he takes off his sweatpants.
“Are you serious?” She asks, shaking her head at him, ignoring how she can feel the heat building in her belly, “I’m literally showering because I had to get our kid’s vomit out of my hair.”
He smiles at her as he steps into the shower, “When will you learn I always want you?” He asks, his voice rough, choked full of desire in a way that makes her stomach flip. Her mouth goes dry and she licks her lips, her gaze fixed on his as he stares at her.
“Maybe you should show me again,” she says, all pretence that she didn’t want this too gone in a second as he steps even closer, guiding her out of the stream of water and pressing her against the wall. It makes her whimper, the contrast between the heat of the air and him sharp in comparison to the cool tile wall, “Remind me.”
He’s kissing her before she’s even finished speaking, his hard firm on her jaw as he holds her in place. She moans and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth as his other hand drifts to her waist, pulling her closer as they continue to kiss. She pulls away when the need to breathe takes over and she smiles at him, her eyes glazed over and her lips already swollen.
“We’ll have to be quick,” she says, licking her lips to chase the taste of him, “There’s a toddler in our bed.”
He smirks at her, leaning down to press his lips against her ear, sending goose pimples across her skin, “I think we both know I don’t need much time to take you apart, sweetheart.”
She narrows her eyes, a challenge already on the tip of her tongue that dies as he reaches between them, his thumb delicate and fleeting against her clit. She grasps his arms, her short nails digging into his skin as he smirks against her neck. He starts to rub circles against her and she groans, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. He kisses along her neck, licking droplets of water from her skin as she tightens her grip on him.
“Aaron,” she breathes out, his name trapped in her throat, “I need-”
He already knows what she needs, he always did, and he slips his hand between her legs, encouraging her to widen her stance as he slips two fingers inside of her, pride flashing in his chest as she immediately clenches around him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, kissing down her chest as she rests her head back against the wall of the shower, “Let me make you feel good,” he licks over one of her nipples, smiling as she involuntarily thrusts her hips against his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Holy fuck,” she grits out, rolling her hips against his hand again, silently asking for more. She trails her nails down his sides, taking some satisfaction in how he shivers when she reaches his hips.
He wraps her hand around him, smirking as he groans against her breast as she starts to pump him up and down. He kisses his way back up to her mouth, swallowing the moan she lets out as he changes the angle of the fingers he has pumping inside of her, his palm pressed against her clit. She clenches around his fingers and he feels her thighs start to shake. He pulls away from her lips, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then her jaw, his words muffled against her skin.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he says, nipping at her throat as she does just that, her hands shifting to his back as she pulls him closer, fire burning through her veins as she leaves red trails on his skin, “That’s it,” he croons, “You’re so fucking perfect.”
She pulls him in for a kiss, desperate to feel his lips against hers as she comes down from her high, every nerve ending sparking as she sighs into his mouth. He places his hand on her hip, his skin slippery from her and the water still falling around them and he pulls back from the kiss, his forehead against hers as he smiles.
“Turn around,” he says, kissing her again, his teeth briefly sinking into her lower lip as she nods.
He helps turn her, his skin hot against her skin, making her shiver as he presses her against the wall, her breath catching in her chest as her nipples press against the tiles. He’s warm and pressed right up against her, the feeling overwhelming as he reaches between them, guiding himself into her.
She gasps at the familiar stretch, her palms against the smooth wall as she tries to grasp at something. Aaron places his hands over hers, linking their fingers together as he rests his forehead against the back of her neck, grinding his teeth at the tightness of her, at the way she clenches around him.
“You feel so good, Em,” he chokes out, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, “So fucking good.”
“You do too,” she replies, breathless, feeling so full, so surrounded, by him that she can barely breathe, “You need to move, please move.”
He’d never been able to deny her anything, so he starts to move, slowly moving his hips back and forth, purposely dragging pleasure out of her, well aware that it drove her crazy when he took her like this. She pushes her hips back against him, chasing him, silently asking him for more. He was huge, stretching her almost to her limit every time.
The first time they’d done this, years ago now, he’d put off sleeping with her for weeks, eventually leading her to yell at him, her own insecurities peeking through until he admitted he was worried he’d hurt her. He was always exactly what she needed. Desperate and rough when she needed release that way, or soft and gentle, hands delicate on her skin, when she needed to be reminded of how much he loves her.
The angle of him combined with the press of him behind her, the steam in the air that makes it harder to catch her breath, makes her orgasm build up quickly. She’s not even sure she came down from her first one entirely, her body still twitching against his.
“I’m close,” she grits out, and he smiles against her cheek, encouraging her to turn her head enough to look at him.
“I can tell,” he says, kissing her fiercely, “You get so tight when you’re like this,” he says, moving one of his hands down, gently circling her clit, knowing it was the last push she needs, “Come for me again, sweetheart.”
She kisses him as she tips over the edge, her scream of his name muffled against his lips, something she’s grateful for because she’s not sure the sound of the shower would have covered it.
He isn’t far behind her, his hips starting to stutter against hers as she rests her forehead against his temple, encouraging him with soft and filthy words as he tips over the edge, coming deep inside of her with a growl.
They still for a moment, content in their embrace against the wall in silence until she chuckles and shakes her head, “You really are insatiable.”
He laughs and kisses her again before he pulls back, raising his eyebrow at her as she turns to look at him, “You’re one to talk.”
She narrows her eyes at him but kisses him quickly before she steps back into the stream of the water, “Come on, we actually should shower now.”
They wash each other, hands soft and gentle where they’d been desperate and grasping only minutes before. She laughs as he carefully lathers her soap on her skin, pressing his lips against her shoulder as the bubbles wash down the drain.
He steps out of the shower first, reaching for a towel for her and passing it to her before he gets one for himself.
“I got some clean pjyamas out for you,” he says, kissing her cheek as he wraps his towel low on his hips, watching intently as she starts to dry her skin, “They’re just on the bed in there.”
She groans appreciatively and walks over to kiss his cheek, “You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he replies, kissing the corner of her lips, catching the chuckle she lets out, “I’ll meet you in there.”
He makes quick work of changing back into his pjyamas, and he picks up the clothes from the floor that had missed the hamper and places them in there, making a mental note that he’d add them to the washer in the morning once the bedding was clean.
He walks into the bedroom and smiles when he once again finds Emily and Elliot cuddled up on her side of the bed.
“He didn’t even wake up when I moved him to get into my side,” she says quietly, “Poor little thing.”
Aaron climbs into bed and kisses her before he kisses his son’s forehead, “His fever is down a little though, so the bath helped.”
She hums, the sound turning into a yawn as she looks at him, “I guess being thrown up on does have its advantages.”
He scoffs, faking offence as he shakes his head at her, “I thought what just happened in the shower was an advantage.”
She smiles, but is cut off from saying anything when there’s a knock on the door before Jack walks in, a slightly dazed look on his face as he walks in, clearly half asleep.
“Mom, Dad, I feel sick.”
They both sigh internally and exchange a look, having a brief and silent conversation before Aaron lifts the covers on his side of the bed, “Come on buddy, come sleep with us.”
Jack crawls into the bed and gets in between them, curling his arm over his little brother, “Love you guys.”
“We love you too, honey,” Emily says, reaching out and pushing some of his hair off his forehead, smiling when she sees he’s already half asleep again. She looks up at her husband, “We’re never going to sleep in here alone again, are we?”
He shakes his head, “No sweetheart, we aren’t,” he smirks at her, “But at least we’ve got the shower.”
-x-
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Stricklake headcanon?
Oof. Okie- I *may* have gone overboard... Still, have some headcanons I got for ya! Because I have no self-control! And yes, there is a lot of them.
He speaks in innuendos almost exclusively, but she will just be blunt with it ‘cause who got time for that.
He follows her. Just. He follows her. (🎵walk him like a dog, sis, walk him like a dog🎵) Okay, but actually he follows her (especially after the Eternal Night when he’s stuck in his troll form) because his arms are much longer than a human’s so it’s a bit uncomfortable to hold hands while walking beside each other because either she needs to stretch her hand down or he has to sort of angle his shoulder up, so, to compensate he always walks just behind her so that his hand is easy to keep in hers. Hence: he just follows her. (yes, he had the choice to lead, no, he did not take it.)
After they get comfortable with each other again, Barbara MUST boop him on the nose when he yawns and does the *biiiiiigggg streeeeetch* but, when he always complains with a little grumble, she’ll kiss his cheek as compensation. (and a bonus little scritch on the base of his horns if he’s especially grumpy)
Speaking of which, he PURRS. A lot. At first it sounds super scrungly and rough because he never did it very often, but Barbara makes it her personal mission to coax the purrs out of him and turn them smoother by constantly making him do it. (She succeeds, obviously ;} and when Jim and Strickler are having a petty little argument for funsies she’ll butt in ‘all serious’ and give him the stink eye and flex her fingers ready to make him purr in front of Jim and he’ll automatically, but grumpily, shut up and let Jim win)
He blushes LIKE CRAZY at like the smallest look from her ‘cause oh my God how could he not??? She’s wonderful, and stunning, and bewitching, and oh man he’s hers and she’s his, and could he be more fortunate to have her and— Meanwhile Barb will NOT blush at much, EXCEPT, of course, when he gives the worst dad joke in the world or some stupid, down-bad line like a nervous dork and THEN she’ll blush like a tomato.
As much as I love the hc that Strickler snores loud…my mom is the one that snores really loud……………………………………….so, BARB is the loud snorer and when she’s asleep she’s ASLEEP AND UNLESS THERE’S AN EMERGENCY SHE’S NOT WAKING UP. You could poke her, prod her, move her around, she WILL NOT wake up and WILL continue snoring like she’s gotta scare off the morning birds from the tree by the window. Strickler is the lightest sleeper the world has ever seen, Barb could be shifting around and his eyes will bolt open and he’ll just lay there. But, when he is exhausted and starts dozing off on the couch he’ll already be asleep but when Barb asks if he wants them to go to bed he’ll wake up all offended like a true dad and say “I wasn’t asleep, but if you’d like.” “You were snoring.” “That is……my usual breathing at night.” “Uh-huh. Sure.” “It is-!”
(He always falls asleep easier when they cuddle, but for a while he didn’t completely understand he could just *ask* her to cuddle and she probably would, he didn’t want to bother her so he always waited for her to initiate it. Until one day he gets the nerve to ask her to cuddle and she’s like “Hon, you just had to get closer to me and I would’ve cuddled whenever you want.” “It was that simple???” “Yes, we’re MARRIED.” “Oh. Fair point.”)
He gets restless really easy (especially after the Eternal Night when sometimes he wakes up earlier than she does and he’ll be swamped by thoughts of his plummeting self-worth to actually be sleeping beside her after everything he’s done to them) so he’ll go for ‘morning jogs’/morning flights in the forest nearby and return to make Barbara breakfast. It makes him feel a bit better and he always comes back with a different flower every time to give to her, but when Barb catches on to the main reason why he does this, she starts trying to cheer him up more when he comes back. One morning she asks why he picked the flower he did and one thing leads to another and now he’ll always bring back a flower and explain to her the history of the flower and its meaning and all the dorky stuff he loves to talk about and she’ll listen while eating her breakfast.
His eyes dilate insanely wide whenever he even thinks of her and everyone has dubbed it the “Lover Look for Lake” so they (mostly Toby) can say “Ohoho, the triple L combo! You’re a loser for her, Strickler, take that L so you can kiss that L.” He NEVER lives it down.
Sometimes, on really cloudy, late nights, when Barb is working at the hospital and finally gets out, exhausted and fatigued, a little someone will pop by with dilated red eyes and a flap of leathery wings. After a LONG TIME of mini-flights, she finally trusts him enough to close her eyes and let him carry her home after her long shifts so she can soak up the lightness of the night sky while she can hear a purr in his chest as she rests against it.
Hope I satisfied your request lol
Reblog if you have any headcanons of your own!!!
#toa trollhunters#toa strickler#toa barbara#walter strickler#barbara lake#stricklake#toa#strickler#trollhunters strickler#my headcanons#hcs#my hcs#trollhunters#jim lake jr#toa jim#waltolomew stricklander#stricklander#tales of arcadia#look. I love them.#most of these are for actual canon universe stricklake but watch me incorporate many of these into my fic ;}#I PROMISE i will post some of the art I have of them.#i just need to get past my stupid perfectionism#honestly tho i should just get around to posting sketches#you wouldn't mind would you?#i just want the sketches to be good because ugh they're#my babies#my parents#I love them.
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🦉🏐
Timeskip BokuAka showing up at a Tokyo hs volleyball tournament and causing a huge scene.
The famous Bokuto Koutarou, Olympian and media darling, and his longtime partner Akaashi Keiji, who is well-known in his own right as one of the best setters Fukurodani Volleyball Club ever had.
(The coaches talk about them a lot LOL)
Bokuto and Akaashi come decked out in Fukurodani merchandise—complete with matching owl-themed hats. Both of them purchase a pair of inflatable cheering sticks, slamming them together enthusiastically during the games.
In fact, their cheering is so loud that Yamiji has to text them and tell them to chill out a bit—they’re overpowering the school’s official cheering squad.
After the boys and girls final games (neither win the tournament, but they both come close), Bokuto and Akaashi make it a point to talk to each team. They tell them to not let this one loss discourage them. To just move forward.
They express how proud they are of them, for carrying on the school’s legacy.
A number of students request Bokuto’s autograph and to take photos; of course he obliges. Meanwhile, Akaashi is approached by the girl’s team captain, who asks his advice on setter dump techniques.
Eventually, the pair heads out towards the train station. For a while they’re both silent, just walking hand-in-hand, reflecting on the day.
And then Bokuto speaks. His voice is a bit strained from all the cheering, but clear and strong.
“Sometimes I miss it,” he says. Akaashi turns to look at his boyfriend. The streetlights above are giving Bokuto a sort of halo. He glows like a star.
“Fukurodani will always be the best,” he continues. “No matter how many amazing teams I’m on, wherever else I go… that time was so special.”
Akaashi hums in agreement, but Bokuto isn’t quite finished.
“That team helped me learn to love volleyball,” he says, and then squeezes Akaashi’s hand firmly. “And… it’s where I met you.”
Smiling, Akaashi leans into the other man. He lets out a long, blissful sigh. “Yeah. It was pretty amazing…”
// I dunno what this is, I just had this image of BokuAka being crazy Fukurodani fans at a game, and then it turned kinda sappy at the end 😅 I've had a rough week so I just needed to write this!
#bokuaka#bokuto koutarou#akaashi keiji#fukurodani vbc#my writing#fanfiction#haikyuu!!#PLEASE SHARE IF YOU ENJOY
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I never asked for a Garreth one because I assumed you had Garreth asks :O
May I please request a Garreth fic of him proposing? :3
Oooor...
Him realising he was in love with OC/MC?
(What 'did it')
I love love love you writing so so much!
Ooo I love a Garreth request!! 😍
Thank you so much for asking, and for your kind words 💜 I've gone with the falling for her idea...I hope this okay 😃
Garreth Weasley x F!MC (fluff, some darkness/angst, death)
He wasn't entirely sure when he had first fallen in love with MC. He had certainly never been looking for it, but now he was fairly certain of it.
There was the day she started at Hogwarts, running in late and sitting to be Sorted. Of course, a pretty girl was bound to catch his eye, but he had admired from afar and thought no more on it, especially when she had seemed to gravitate towards Sebastian Sallow.
He hadn't believed his luck when she had agreed to sneak the fwooper feather out of Sharp's office, and it was after that little win that he had considered her a kindred spirit in mischief. This was further confirmed when she had swiped other goodies for him. After that, he had felt himself in her orbit more frequently.
In Potions lessons she sat beside him, her face screwed up in concentration as she mixed ingredients. He found himself watching her, a cheeky grin lifting his lips whenever she caught his gaze. She always smiled back though, that was the kicker.
Standing in the courtyard chatting with friends, he looked up and saw her walking down the steps, book under her arm. She caught his eye and he waved. Her face brightened and she headed over, her arm catching hold of his, her head resting on his shoulder. "It's been a rough morning. Fancy cheering me up?"
How could he say no? Especially when his dumb jokes teased laughter from her lips.
He found he couldn't help himself when it came to teasing her. Blowing softly towards the pages of her text book in class, smothering a giggle when she slapped the pages back down. Her glare of annoyance was no deterrent.
The touching moved to actually tickling her one day. She had been winding him up something terrible down by the lake while collecting leech juice. She tried to flick it at him, giggling, and he had warned her, more than once. But she dared to risk it. Chasing her along the little beach, catching her up and tickling her sides, her squeal of laughter...it had left him with a pounding heart and a smile that had remained for the rest of the day.
There was that time she had been crying, wiping the tears from her cheeks and trying to hide her face. He couldn't leave her like that, and he had held her. She had been tense at first, but then she had pressed her face into his chest, accepting his comfort. He would be a liar if he said it hadn't felt warm, special, holding her close like that.
He then found himself wishing he could hold her hand as they walked the path to Hogsmeade, he craved her smile more and more, the sound of her laugh. He found himself gravitated towards her, so much so that Leander had begun to tease him about it. It was a crush, right? A silly, little crush.
Then there was that evening when he had been running back to the castle, cutting it really fine for curfew. He hadn't really wanted to, but he took a short-cut through the Forbidden Forest to save time. The sounds of a fight caught his attention and he had paused in spite of his fear, in spite of his lateness.
In a clearing, there was MC, wand in hand, duelling Ashwinders. He had gaped at the sight, she looked utterly magnificent. He had seen her duel in Crossed Wands, of course, but this! This was something else entirely.
She cleared the lot of them, kicking their asses and then standing there, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. He wanted to go to her, made a step forward, but then hesitated. What if she thought he had followed her? He stared at the destruction she had wrought and swallowed hard. How did someone so delicate, so warm and full of smiles, do this?
"Hello there." The voice was behind him. Garreth froze, and then a wand tip was pressed against his throat. A hooded figure came into view beside him. "You're going to regret coming here tonight."
MC had her back to them, and she began to step away, heading towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. The Ashwinder beside him gave him a nudge. "Is that your friend? She's a fiesty little bitch, I'll give her that."
Garreth opened his mouth to call out, but the wand at his throat pushed harder. "Don't even think about it."
Then, the Ashwinder flicked his wand out and fired a spell at MC's back. She was thrown forward onto her front, the Ashwinder chuckled. Garreth slid out his own wand, throwing a quick cast at the Ashwinder. They stumbled backwards. "Oh, so he does bite," he cackled.
Garreth was grateful he had paid attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts, that he had watched duels in Crossed Wands. He fired off some spells in a quick back and forth, his gaze flicking towards MC, who was still face down in the dirt.
Garreth could feel the sweat running off his forehead, he wasn't the violent type, mischief and rule breaking maybe, but nothing like this. The Ashwinder was fast, his spells relentless, and Garreth was merely blocking them now, and tiring fast.
His heart in his mouth, he tried to think of a way out of this. MC still hadn't moved and panic was starting to creep in. He glared at the Ashwinder, summoning some hidden strength he prayed to Merlin he had. He flung out the Bombarda spell and hit the Ashwinder, sending him hurtling back into a tree. The crunch as he hit it made Garreth wince.
The clearing was now quiet, the Ashwinder not moving, his body lying at a strange angle. Garreth tried not to think about it too much, tried to not look at the bodies of the others scattered about, and hurried towards MC.
He rolled her over and she groaned. He exhaled in relief that she was at least alive. "MC, can you hear me?"
She blinked a few times, her eyes a bit dazed, before she focused on Garreth. She frowned in confusion. "Garreth, is that you?"
"Are you hurt? What can I do?"
She winced as she tried to sit up. She lay back down. "My right pocket, Wiggenweld," she gasped.
Garreth dug out the potion and helped her sit up to take it. They sat in silence while it set to work, Garreth trying to process everything, MC giving him awkward glances.
When she was feeling better she got up and paced a little, stretching out stiff muscles. "How did you end up here?" She asked. She turned to look at him.
Garreth explained what had happened, all the way up to the point where he had blasted the Ashwinder into the tree. Here, he faltered, struggled to get the words out. MC went to check on the Ashwinder. He was most definitely dead.
Garreth felt his guts twist and he turned to empty the contents of his stomach, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The shock of what he had done slammed into him.
When he looked at MC, her eyes were knowing and shining with tears. "I did the same thing the first time I took a life," she said. She sighed. "I wish I could tell you that it gets easier, but it doesn't. You just get numb, I guess, but maybe that's more about self preservation than anything else."
"So, this is what you do? Go around killing people?" He asked, staring at her. "And what was that magic you used? I've never seen anything like that before."
She looked pained. "It's...it's complicated."
His mouth tightened. "I see," he said. He rubbed his face with a hand and dared to stare at the dead wizards around him. "Has this got something to do with what happened underneath Hogwarts in 5th year?"
She chewed her bottom lip and then nodded.
He hated where his thoughts were taking him, but he had to know. "Is it dark, this magic, is it dangerous?"
"It's dangerous, yes, but it's not dark," she said. She stepped towards him but he took a step back. He hated the flash of hurt on her face, but he couldn't help it. She held up her hands. "I can explain, if you want me to. I don't really like telling people, because it is dangerous, but I don't want you to think badly of me. I'm not doing dark magic, I promise."
He nodded. "Okay, so tell me. Explain."
She took a deep breath. "It's a form of ancient magic, I was born with it, but didn't find out about it until I arrived here in 5th year. I discovered I could wield it by accident when those trolls attacked Hogsmeade that day."
Garreth thought back, remembering the gossip, the rumours. He gave her a look. "Wasn't Sebastian with you that day?"
"Yes, he was," she nodded.
Garreth felt his mouth tighten. "So, he knows about all of this?"
She met his gaze steadily. "Most of the time he is right here fighting beside me, he has taught me a lot, helped me get through some really bad things," she said. "So, yes, he knows about the ancient magic, but he hasn't told a soul. I trust him."
Garreth shook his head. "I knew you two were close, but I had no idea." He ran his hands through his hair and began to pace. His mind was racing trying to piece everything together. Some things were making sense, but he was struggling with the fact that she was a fighter, a killer, wielding some powerful magic that enabled her to take down a whole group of Ashwinders on her own.
"We need to get back to the castle," he said. "We are way past curfew. Although, I suppose that kind of stuff must seem small compared to all of this."
He held his arms out at the devastation around them. MC looked so miserable, and usually he would be there to cheer her up, but he was struggling. He could find nothing funny about this, other than the fact that he had stumbled into it like some kind of idiot.
"Please, don't look at me like that," she said. She looked like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you had to see all of this. I wish you hadn't, in a way, because now you will never look at me the way you used to."
"It's like I don't know you," he said. It hurt to say it. "If I hadn't seen this, you would have continued to hide it, lying to me."
"No, not lying," she said. "Protecting you. Knowing about all of this is dangerous. I've already put Sebastian in danger because of all this, I couldn't bear it if anyone got hurt because of me. The less people know the better. Because of my power, because of what happened in 5th year with the goblins, the Ashwinders know me, they know about what I can do. Danger is a part of my life now, and there is no escape from it. If keeping it all a secret means I keep those I care about safe, then that's what I have to do."
Garreth swallowed. "I need to get away from here, from all of...this." He marched across the clearing, past MC without even looking at her, and towards the path back to Hogwarts. He heard the small sob that left her mouth as he passed her, and his heart twisted. But he didn't know what to say, what to do.
He paused in his step, head down. "Are you coming, or staying here?"
His heart thumped. It took a moment, but then he heard her footfalls and then she was beside him. He still couldn't look at her but he nodded. "Let's go."
....*....
The walk back was probably the longest, most awkward time they had spent together, and he hated it. He missed their easy banter, the smiles, the laughter. It felt like it had all been stolen from him.
When they made it back to the castle, they managed to sneak in without being caught. Leaving her was hard, she had tears on her cheeks, her eyes desperate. But he still couldn't find the words.
"I'm still me," she said. "I'm still the same girl who sits next to you in Potions. Everything you ever saw of me was the truth, I promise."
His smile was a sad one. "Goodnight, MC."
....*....
As the days passed after the incident in the forest, Garreth was still trying to process everything. The most difficult part was coming to terms with his own actions.
But he couldn't lie, the hopeful looks MC kept sending his way were like pins in his heart. He was being a shitty friend, he was avoiding her, and he hated himself for it.
In Potions, working side by side, there was a moment when their fingers brushed reaching for the same ingredient. Garreth felt his cheeks warm, and was surprised to see her face redden too. She gave him a shy smile and it hit his sweet spot. He had to clear his throat and look away.
Garreth knew he couldn't talk about how he was feeling with anyone. MC had said it was too dangerous to tell people, and that was something he could agree with. He couldn't break that trust she had placed in him by telling him the truth. It was a lonely thing, to know the truth but not be able to speak about it.
He realised that MC must have felt so terribly alone, and for so long. It made sense why she had leant on Sebastian for help. Perhaps it had been the reason for her tears that day he had comforted her. Perhaps she had been leaning on him more than he realised.
This was confirmed when Sebastian sought him out one afternoon. "Can I have a word, Weasley?"
Garreth had looked at Sebastian, wondering what he wanted. He nodded uncertainly, and followed him to a quiet corner of the courtyard.
"MC told me about what happened in the forest," Sebastian said.
Garreth swallowed nervously. "She did?"
Sebastian nodded. "It took me long enough to get her to talk, she has been moping about for days."
"Did she ask you to speak with me?"
Sebastian frowned. "No, she doesn't know I'm doing this, and maybe we should keep it that way. I'm here because she clearly misses you."
"I haven't exactly gone anywhere," Garreth said. He shifted his eyes away guiltily. "And I've not told anyone about what happened either."
"Smart of you," Sebastian nodded. "Keep it that way. But maybe you should talk to MC. Sort out whatever it is that's going on between you. You seem to have an annoying habit of making her happy, and I'm getting rather tired of her constant sad face. Nothing I say seems to help, so, that means you're up, Weasley. See if you can get her smiling again."
He made her happy? Garreth felt a flush spreading across his face. "Alright, I'll speak to her," he nodded.
"Good man." Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Weasley, she may be the most powerful witch of our age, but she is a big softie underneath it all. She won't bite."
Sebastian headed off with a smirk and left Garreth standing there with his hands in his pockets, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip.
....*....
After classes were done at the end of the day, Garreth went in search of MC. He found her in the library, head bent over her books, the curtain of her hair shining in the light of her lamp.
Garreth slid into the chair beside her, leaning over to look at her book. He lifted an eyebrow. "The history of goblin mines. Having trouble sleeping or something?"
She met his gaze, her eyes sparking with hope and her lips curving upwards. His tummy did little flips and he smiled back. "Hi," he said, softly.
"Hello." Her smile widened.
"There's this girl I know," he said, shifting in his seat. "She is kind of a bad ass, flings around all this crazy power. It's kind of scary actually."
"Is that right?" She turned towards him. "She sounds interesting."
"She is," he said. He met her eyes, heart thudding a little faster. "Sometimes she looks sad though, and I wish I could take that away for her. I like her smile."
MC's cheeks flushed a pretty pink. "Maybe you are already doing that for her, and you just don't know it."
"Maybe I am nothing more than a coward, though. I'm not as brave as she is, not even close. I wish I could do better."
She reached out and took hold of his hand. He tried not to relish the feel of her fingers squeezing his own, but it did feel good. "You're not a coward, Garreth. Far from it. You saved me that night, if you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't be here. I owe you my life."
He shook his head. "You owe me nothing. I didn't have a clue what I was doing, and I was...scared."
"There is nothing wrong with being scared. I get scared, all the time," she said. She leaned closer to him.
"But you have that fancy magic of yours," Garreth said. He moved to whisper quietly. "You only need to click your fingers and someone is dead."
They stared at each other, eyes locked. MC swallowed hard. "It's me you're scared of, isn't it."
It wasn't a question, and he didn't have the words to answer her. Maybe he was.
MC thought for a moment, her thumb brushed over the back of his knuckles before she met his gaze. "I want to show you something," she said. "Do you trust me enough to come with me?"
He nodded. They packed away her books and left the library.
....*....
It was raining when MC led Garreth across the grounds and towards the forest. They pulled their hoods up, and Garreth fought down a flutter of anxiety as they drew near the clearing where the fight with the Ashwinders had taken place.
None of the bodies were there anymore. It was just like any other clearing, but Garreth couldn't help but feel death lingering in the shadows.
MC paused in the middle of the clearing and looked at him, the rain dripping off the edge of her hood. "This magic is dangerous and powerful, but it's only dark if the wielder chooses it to be," she said. "I want to show you something."
She drew out her wand and pointed up through the break in the trees. A strand of blue and white light shot from the end of it, all the way up into the grey, heavy clouds. Garreth looked up, the rain hitting his cheeks and gasped as the grey clouds began to break up, revealing the blue sky behind them.
As the rain began to ease and brighter light began to filter down through the trees, MC lowered her wand to spread her magic around the clearing. Where sticky mud and dead branches lay, grass began to sprout and grow, flowers and vines curling up and reaching out to meet the light.
Soon, the clearing no longer looked like the dark, miserable place it had been. It was no longer marked by death's shadow, it was now bright, colourful, and MC was stood in the middle of it, her face gazing hopefully his way.
"This magic is capable of so much good," she said. "I would much rather use it for that, believe me, but sometimes I have to use it in other ways. I wish I didn't, but I had no choice. And it scares me, everyday, how much power I have."
He took a step towards her, his eyes glancing around at all the beauty she had charmed around them.
"There has been so much darkness, so much," she said, her words catching in her throat. "But you, you make me feel lighter, with your jokes and your smile. I couldn't have got through half of the last couple of years without you there to cheer me up. I think I would be rather lost without you, Garreth Weasley, especially if the last few days are anything to go by. Because I have bloody missed you."
He had missed her too. He moved towards her, his hands reaching out for hers, and she took them. When he looked into her eyes he realised that there was another feeling inside of him that seemed to overwhelm all the others. It shone brighter than his fear and his shame, it was stronger than the warmth he felt from being her friend.
No, this was something else. Garreth realised, with a jolt like a flash of her ancient magic, that he was head over heels in love with MC.
Her mouth fell open and she stared up at him with wide eyes. "You...what?"
He blinked. Oh shit, had he said that out loud!? "Erm...what?" He stuttered.
She smiled and brought a hand up to his face, she brushed a lock of wet hair back from his forehead. "I love you, too," she said.
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my introverted ass gets a lil shy about participating in fandom events sometimes lol, but I wanted to give some folks some love for ✨Choices Fandom Shoutout Day!✨
Firstly, to all my moots, but especially @pudb1e @alleykatart @icanmakewords @honeyinadream @scrumptioustimemachinetragedy @aces-and-angels @zhoras-bitch @lilyoffandoms and anyone else i've missed! (chemo brain is a bitch)
ngl, every time you guys like something to do with the Starlight blorbos it makes me giddy. You make this such a warm and joyous place to be with every little interaction -- your joy is my joy, and I'm so glad our shared love of ID and Choices fandom stuff (and hopefully, my writing too!) has brought you all some happiness.
I hope something makes you smile today. You deserve all the happiness in the world and I appreciate you all so much 🌻🌼🌷
I wanted to give an extra special shout out to @jerzwriter for making this fandom such an inclusive and welcoming place -- you are just straight up lovely! I know I barely know you, but you have a generosity of spirit that I really, greatly admire.
[Skip this bit if you want, as I'm touching on heavier health stuff].
I realise I haven't actually got around to posting the fic in question yet (writing takes a lot out of me atm), but I have been frittering away at a piece based on the ask you sent me forever ago, and I really wanted to thank you for taking the time to send that ask in the first place. Not only did it make me feel like I really was a part of the community here, but you actually sent me that ask right before a meeting with my oncologist where I was due to find out whether I had been responding to chemotherapy or not. (I am getting better! ✨🎉) It was a pretty rough morning, and through some truly serendipitous timing, you swooped in and offered me the perfect distraction. I immediately found myself imagining all these soft scenarios and trying to cobble together little plot points instead of fixating on my anxiety; you gave me an escape when I really needed it.
And for me, that's exactly what fandom is all about! That's what fanfic writers and fanartists are so wonderful at achieving with their works; is bringing this refuge of joy and levity and beauty when we need it the most. So, truly, thank you -- not just for the ask that day, not just for all your hard work with @choicesficwriterscreations, but simply for being you and for sharing your stories with the world. You really do bring a light 💛
And through all of this, my OG reader and wonderful friend @freedom-kitty ✨ You've been there since the beginning bringing so much enthusiasm and eagerness and leaving some of the most wonderful comments on my fics that I have ever had the joy of reading. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that you are an absolute GEM and I'm so glad ID brought us together 💖 I have so many of your comments saved to go back and re-read when I'm doubting my own skills, or when I just need a smile (I'm still absolutely cracking up about the Aria the Great saga when I "joined you" on holiday lmao). You are the best ever, and I hope you know it.
Thank you for cheering me on, both in writing and in life with all the bullshit going on this year. You kick ass, lovely, and you should feel awesome about being you 💕
Lastly, thank you so much @choicesfandomappreciation for your hard work and thoughtfulness in hosting such an awesome event!! 🧁🎀 I love seeing events like this!
Sending you all hugs (if you are the hugs sort) and sunshine and warmth (if that's more your jam)
You are loved
You are brilliant
You are capable
You are enough 🌻
all my love,
aria xx
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Jack goes a little to rough during sex and leaves reader with a lot of really dark bruises and is afraid to even touch her and reader start to go crazy without his touch. You can end it how you want.
Red Red Red
As he reached his high, his grip on my hip intensifies and his movement increased in pace and became harsher. I never got to reach my high, as I was feeling uncomfortable as the pain never turned into pleasure.
I sort of knew this was coming when he came home looking stressed out. He wasted no time in connecting his lips to mine. I thought I would help him relieve his stress but soon came to realize too late, that this isn’t what I wanted.
He had his face buried in the crook of my neck, which is why he didn’t notice my silent tears. As soon as it was over, he rolled to his side and fell asleep.
I knew he never meant to hurt me, but I couldn’t help feeling used and disposable. I quietly made my way into the shower, and as soon as the hot water hit my body, I was finally able to relax.
Once I finished, I went back into bed; and as soon as my face hit the pillow, I fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up in an empty bed. I heard some footsteps downstairs, but as I rushed to the front door, I came to realize Jack had already left. I tried not to overthink it…after all, he was stressed last night. Maybe he needs some space.
As the day went by, I grew more worried about Jack. This is why I thought it would be a nice gesture to cook his favorite meal in hopes of cheering him up when he arrived back home.
At 9, he pulled into the driveway.
I walked up to him and greeted him with a hug as soon as he came through the front door, not expecting him to go stiff. I gently pulled away trying to hide my hurt expression.
“How was work?”
“It was alright” he said avoiding eye contact.
“I made you dinner, your favorite” I softly said.
He briefly looked down with a guilty expression.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. You’ve been avoiding me all day. Did I do something wrong?” you said taking his hand.
He immediately tensed up as he walked to the couch.
I took a seat next to him.
“No- I…I just” he stopped himself before choking on his own words. “I saw…the bruises this morning….I shouldn’t have been too rough”
“Hey, it's ok. I’m fine now” I said rubbing his back.
“No, is not ok. I should have known better than to take all my frustration out on you like that”
“No, no, no. It’s my fault, I should have used our safe word”
“No, it’s still no excuse. I’m sorry” he said kissing the top of my head as he held me close. “But…can I ask why you didn’t use it?”
“Well…you were stressed, and I was worried for you, so I figured out that if I could help you in some way I would do it”
“But not at the cost of hurting you” he said rubbing my hands with his thumbs.
“I’m sorry”
“You have nothing to be sorry”
After a brief moment of silence, while you remained in each other's arms, he broke the silence.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?”
“Only if you join me” I said with a tender smile.
He smiled at me.
“How can I say no to that?”
#jack harlow imagines#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x you#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow one shot#jack harlow#jack harlow blurb#jack harlow fluff#jack harlow concepts#jackman thomas harlow#jack x you#harlow jack#jackharlow#bf!jack#jack harlow angst#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow fic#requested#request#fanfic
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A true Angelino . — dead island 2.
pairing ; Bruno x gn!reader
Warnings / tags ; fluff , slight angst if you squint , comfort , pet names (baby,love) , make out section at the end , no y/n , mention of zombies , cussing , just 2 idiots in love <3.
Summary ; A zombie had ripped Brunos beanie on the way back to Emma's Mansion, you decide to fix it.
Word count ; 800 +
Authors Note ; I got sort of inspired to write this from this post ! Send them lots of love <33. This is also the first fanfic I'll be posting so sorry if its ass😭
The front doors slam open, and Bruno walks in, at this point, not many get surprised of his obnoxious and loud break ins anymore.
Whenever he heads out for supplies, to find information, or whatever, he's tired, but cheerful. He always comes to you and tells you everything that he has done that day.
It's cute, really. Usually, you'll sit on one of the couches around the house, and he'll lay his head on your lap as he talks your ear off. Or, it'll be full of giggles and soft kisses.
But today's different.
When you saw him, you realize that his beanie is gone. His hair is a complete mess, and he looks mad.
" Holy shit Bruno, what happened to you? "
You stand up and slowly walk up to him, your hands cup his face lightly. He melts at the soft touch, sighing.
" It's stupid, but a zombie ripped my beanie on my way back. Ese hijo de puta puede comer mierda... " He frowns at the memory.
Bruno backs away from your touch and digs into his pocket, taking out the beanie he was talking about. It's the one he would always wear. Infact, when you two had first met, he told you that it was his favorite.
The beanie now, however, had a huge tear in the back of it.
" Can I borrow it for a while? "
He gives you a questioning glare but hands it to. You analyze it for a second before giving him a reassuring smile, his gaze softens.
You take his hand and lead him to your room, his hand is rough, and bloody against yours. When you both make it into your room, you point at the bed and let go of his hand.
" Sit down, baby. " Bruno blushes at the pet name, but shoots back an ; " Of course, love. " before sitting down. You roll your eyes, place the beanie on the desk and go through your closet.
" What are you looking for? "
You smirk and take out a sewing machine that was hidden behind all the supplies and weapons. The sewing machine had a little bumps here and there but it still works.
" Oh. oh . "
You snort and place the sewing machine on the desk, you enter the plug to the closest outlet. " Can you get me a black thread? It's in that basket. " You point at where the basket is.
He nods and takes out a black thread. He throws you the thread, catching it, you ask; " So, what happened to your hair, love? " as you get straight to work.
He sits back down and mumbles something underneath his breath.
" You don't have to tell-" But he cuts you off before you can even finish.
" Nah, I'll tell you, so uh.." He looks around the room his cheeks burning up from embarrassment. " I had to shave some part of my hair off 'cuz some zombie ripped my dreads really fuckin' hard.." He said as he scratched the back of his head.
You had to stop what you were doing to look at him, before laughing your ass off. " That's not fucking funny ! " he crossed his arms, his embarrassment growing more and more by the second
" Sorry, love.. it's just.. Nevermind, you still look great, I promise. " you reassure him, heading back to work. " Yeah, sure. " Bruno rolls his eyes and lays down on the bed dramatically.
" Okay..I think I'm done." You turn off the machine and take a look at beanie. But before you can get s good look, Bruno gets up and snatches the beanie from you, and putting it on quickly.
This time its your turn to roll your eyes. You get up slowly, putting your hands around his neck. Bruno looks into your eyes before looking at your lips for a second.
" Can I kiss you? "
You giggle, a similar, feeling fuzzy was coming back to you. " What kind of question is- mm! " The kiss was soft, and sweet, just like his lips. Bruno put his hands on your hips, bringing you closer.
You grin as the kiss gets sloppier. You lick his lips, he opens his mouth slightly and you slid your tongue inside. Bruno furrows his eyebrows and groans softly.
Your hands stooped lower, as your tongue explored the inside of his mouth, he tasted like gum, with a mixture of mint. Your hands went underneath his shirt and as your hands slowly went up-
There was a knock on the door.
" Hello? Bruno, you in here? "
You break the kiss and back away. Bruno rushes to the door and opens it. " Oh- Michael, what's up? " Bruno grins, and crosses his arms. " Uh, sorry for.. disturbing you two, but Sam wants you to go find some guns that, y'know, could be useful. "
Michael peeks in for a second to look at you, smiling lightly. You try to play it off and smile back. " Yeah, that's fine, tell him I'm on my way. " Michael nods and quickly leaves.
" You heard him, love, looks I have to go, sorry. But, the second I'm back, I'll show you how grateful I am for you, baby. " He winks before shutting the door.
What a tease.
#⭒｡‧₊ trending page ᵎᵎ#dead island#dead island 2#slayer x reader#Dead island x reader#This took a while to write#sorry if its bad#DI2 Bruno x reader#DI2 Bruno x you#DI#DI2
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