#perhaps! I'll just sit down and write it all out...

[dontbelasagnax]

MISSION SUCCESS MUHAHAH I'd take any of the prompts from you really, so how about 21? Wildcard! Dealers choice! My only request is that it's in-universe 😚

(if you can't decide then maybe bloody kiss? I did once say that you writing angst would be the ultimate win for me)

Alright!! I've finally finished this first prompt!! Both of you, @lightasthesun and anon, wanted bloody kiss so here we are. Ann, since you wanted angst, I believe I am delivering that. However. You must know I'm not an angst person so I cried three times while writing this despite knowing it has a happy ending. You will pay somehow.

Pairing: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,851

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, First Kiss, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

All things considered, Cody probably should have seen it coming.

[ OR: Cody gets shot off a cliff. This is obviously quite dire. If he's got one chance left to kiss Obi-Wan, he'll take it. ]

(fic under the cut if you wish to read here on tumblr)

All things considered, Cody probably should've seen it coming.

He didn't.

There was a moment, just one, where he looked over his shoulder at his General and their troops. It was oddly peaceful, trudging forward together. He had a passing thought that moments like that were rare.

He was on a cliff. And then he wasn't.

Somewhere amidst the blast, the rush of blood in his ears, the icy lurch of his stomach, and a panicked thought that he really should've worn his jetpack, he heard a shout.

It might have been his own voice. He couldn't be sure.

The fall was rough. His body seemed to find every jutting rock off the side of the cliff to bounce off of. He says bounce. The gravity on this planet is stronger than most. It was more of a solid collision straight down with the weight of his body rolling him off every surface he met until he fell straight through air to what he thinks is the ground.

He blinks rapidly, spots of black dancing across his vision. Breaths come out shallow and laboured and- is it silent? Where's the sound? Is it- there's a high pitched ringing and-

"-ody! Cody!"

The spotty sky is cut by blurs of Obi-Wan. There are lines down- oh. His visor must be shattered. Nevertheless, he doesn't like the expression on his general's face.

"Cody," it's husked out, too harried and somehow gentle at once.

"Sir," Cody tries to say. It comes out raspy and gurgled. His mouth tastes of iron. This isn't good. "Did you-" a cough wracks his body and it's perhaps the most painful moment of his existence, "jump?"

"You know the answer to that."

Against his better judgment, Cody feels compelled to sit up at that. He can't quite pinpoint which part of his body protests most. It all turns into one searing blaze of pain. His vision blurs.

He heaves a great stuttered breath which seems to hurt almost as much.

He knows it's bad.

"The men need you," he tries.

"At the moment you need me more."

"Sir."

"Cody, please."

Cody closes his eyes. Breathes as shallowly as he can. A tear trails down his cheek. He swallows dryly. "Can't move."

"Oh, Cody."

"Can you- helmet?"

There's the hiss of his bucket coming unlatched and then it's tugged free.

With the increased range of vision, he glances down at whatever he can make out of himself. It's not pretty. Plastoid is somehow painted red and his left arm seems to be twisted at an unnatural angle.

Yeah. He's not making it out of this alive.

He drinks in the sight Obi-Wan makes above him, hair flopped over his forehead, a smear of ash across his cheek. He's beautiful.

The warmest, kindest hand cradles Cody's cheek. "I'll get you a med-evac-"

"They cut off," Cody fights a wheeze, "communications, remember?" A wet cough erupts violently- shaking him from the inside out. Time ceases through the blinding pain. When his lungs quiet there's wetness falling down his face. Blood and tears. "You've gotta go, sir."

"No, Cody. No."

"Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan goes stockstill, staring with wide, wet eyes. Too soft. Too full of urgency and pain and yearning. He's always trying to get Cody to refer to him by his first name.

There's always a first time for everything. And a last.

"C'mere."

"Cody," Obi-Wan says even as he leans in closer and rubs a thumb across Cody's cheek. Their foreheads meet. He can't decide if Obi-Wan’s breath on his skin is comforting or exhilarating.

With all the strength he can muster, Cody tilts up his chin and closes the remaining distance between them.

A kiss.

Warm press of lips to lips. Just the hint of facial hair brushing against his skin. He can't imagine it gets better than this, even with lips as cracked as they are and wet with blood instead of a balm or saliva. It's not as if he knows better. It's his first kiss after all.

Another first and last.

It's only fitting for it to be with Obi-Wan. The person he's very privately begun to think of as the love of his life.

In another life, when he opened his eyes after their first kiss, the cause of his blurred vision would be Obi-Wan's fault alone. "Always wanted to do that," Cody croaks.

It's true. He's wanted a lot of things. A lot of simple, impossible things that will never be. But. He's dying here and now. He knows how to make the best out of a bad situation.

Obi-Wan’s expression is nothing short of cracked through and through with devastation. "I won't leave you here."

He doesn't think he's ever heard his general’s voice clogged with tears before.

"You will.”

And because he doesn't have to pretend anymore that he doesn't want to touch his general--that he doesn't want to feel his skin and share his breath and know him in the most intimate of ways--Cody reaches for Obi-Wan's hand.

In an instant, his stomach churns as his vision swims, he realizes his mistake. That was his mangled arm he tried to move. The tide of the pain is too strong to fight. Obi-Wan blurs to nothing but a smear, words turn to garbled noises and-

The world goes black.

[Beep]

[Beep]

[Beep]

Cody comes to with the groggy need to open his eyes. It’s a struggle. Seemingly with the weight of an AT-AT upon his eyelids, he blinks his eyes open to searing bright white. Immediately his eyes shut. Not to be deterred, he tries again, blinking steadily until he can see.

Sterile white ceiling. Fluorescent lamps. A flimsy curtain. Annoying beeping.

He's in a med bay.

Tubes and wires. Barely patterned sheet. A hand holding his own-

A chunk of unmistakable ginger bangs flopping onto an eyebrow. Tired eyes looking at Cody so fondly, creases of a smile drawing from the edges of his eyes down his cheeks.

“They said you'd awaken soon,” says Obi-Wan. A thumb strokes Cody's wrist.

"'m I dead?" Cody croaks. His throat is drier than the heated days on Geonosis. He frowns. Obi-Wan is here. That isn’t right. "Are we both dead?"

"I should certainly hope not.”

So. Not dead.

Well.

That's unexpected.

“Wha-” Cody's throat catches on a cough and he splutters roughly.

“Here, here, dear.” Obi-Wan’s there with a cup of water, directing a straw past his chapped lips.

He sips the water down gratefully, satisfied as it soothes the parched gravel of his throat. He tilts his head away when he's done and Obi-Wan puts the cup down.

“What happened?” Cody tries again.

“How about I tell you later? After Egg has checked you-”

No. That won't do.

“Sir,” he interrupts, unyielding, “Sitrep.”

Obi-Wan must be tired because he doesn't even try to do their usual mutually stubborn staring match; he just sighs. “Ghost company managed to infiltrate the Separatist base and contact the admiral to request reinforcements and med-evac.”

Cody narrows his eyes. There is a glaring gap of information. “Where were you?”

“With you,” he says plainly.

Cody opens his mouth to say something but Obi-Wan effortlessly silences him by placing his hand over Cody's once more.

“I wouldn't leave any of my men behind to die, but, you- Cody.” There is a deep ocean of emotion pooled in Obi-Wan's eyes and spoken in the two syllables of Cody's name. “I couldn't leave you. Not like that.” Obi-Wan sighs as if expelling the weight from his shoulders. "And,” the corner of his mustache twitches upwards, “personally, I think I deserve a better kiss.”

“You- what?” Cody's brain flickers mid thought.

“The kiss. I deserve a better one, “ he says with near haughty conviction. “It was rude, quite frankly, to kiss me and nearly die. Gave me quite the fright.”

Cody swallows, his mouth suddenly dry again. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Cody's eyes cannot be dragged away from Obi-Wan's lips. As Obi-Wan sits on the edge of the bed, all Cody can see is the hint of teeth catching on Obi-Wan's pink bottom lip.

He's closer now. Closer still as he gently pitches himself over Cody.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Kiss me,” Obi-Wan breathes.

It's not an order. Not really. Cody is helpless but to obey.

He makes a wounded noise into the meeting of their lips.

Obi-Wan is so soft and warm- his lips, his beard, the nudge of his nose. His hand slowly trails up Cody's good arm, bare as Cody seems to only be wearing a med gown. Sparks dance up his skin.

As their lips push and pull into kiss after kiss, heat grows inside Cody's chest and belly, competing with his fluttering stomach, elated and happy and-

“Ahem.”

Their lips separate with a smack. Reality filters in alongside the sound of rapid, high pitched beeping. Obi-Wan pulls away, expression nothing short of sheepish.

Their highest ranking medical officer, Egg, approaches the bed. “I see you're awake and someone failed to notify me.”

“Yes, well-” Obi-Wan starts, face adorably growing pink.

Egg ignores him. “Commander, how are you feeling?” As he speaks, he taps buttons on a machine attached to the wall which blissfully makes the beeping stop. “Any discomfort? Nausea? Pain?”

Cody sets aside the embarrassment of being caught and evaluates himself. He feels… surprisingly fine. “No, nothing.”

“Good. If that changes you've got a button you can easily request more meds with. Use it; there's nothing valiant in unnecessary suffering.”

Cody nods, fully aware he needs to cooperate if he wants to stay on Egg’s good side.

"And, General,” Egg looks directly at Obi-Wan for the first time, “stop making my patient tachycardic."

"I make no such promises.”

Cody shoots him A Look.

“Darling,” oh Force- this is a development Cody had not seen coming, “I do endeavor to never make a promise I can't keep.”

Okay. Well. That's-

Egg sighs, long and weary. “I'll be back in roughly two hours for rounds. If you spill any body fluids in my med bay I'll be requesting your transport to The Resolute med bay. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” both Cody and Obi-Wan respond.

With that, Egg makes his departure, fully swooshing open the privacy curtain before leaving the room.

There is a moment of relative silence. Cody realizes that Obi-Wan is once again holding his hand. He likes it. He likes it a lot.

“That couldn't have gone better,” Obi-Wan announces cheerily.

Cody can't help it.

He laughs.

It starts small, just a huff of breath out his nose until he's wheezing, lips stretched over gum and tears dripping down his face, clutching Obi-Wan who similarly chortles. His laughter is the most joyous of music.

He's alive. Miraculously. And somehow- somehow they're doing things like hold hands now.

It strikes Cody that, although he's confined to this awful med bay bed, for the first time in his life he feels happy. He's actually, truly happy.

There's no way it can last but he hopes he'll remember this moment forever. Acting an absolute fool with the man he loves most. Happy.

[seyvia]

Loving your thoughts on the last post, and I sure agree. I love how all the contestants have their own charm, and Blue is the type to flirt while joking and has no fear to say what he want, but while his mouth is straight to the point, his body language is slower and respectful and just wants to make Rhea comfortable 🥺

That's exactly what I was trying to convey!👏 There is more than meets the eye with this guy...

Continues to babble on about thoughts on Blue below.

Ergh! There is so much I've been sleeping on! Especially when it comes to this poor boy's past. I wanna just brain spill it out😫 LIKE! has anyone noticed? I said Blue was raised by only by his mother, and yet his little sister age 7! ...looks like blue? Who looks like his dad???

And yes, nobody cares about his supposed ex-girlfriend, but she is the reason he has the klepto trait, and everyone thought was the reason he left home to rome the road, but actually isn't!

[tender-rosiey]

Since your requests are open I'll help myself 😋 Gojo's wife starts to have morning sicknesses, so she suspects that she's pregnant. She takes a test and finds out that she actually is pregnant. Would u please write gojo's reaction when his wife tells his that he's gonna be a daddy? 🥺💕 thanks you, please feed us with your delicious writing!!!

Also if you're not feeling well then please ignore this. Take care! Mwah^•^♡

weight — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I hope you like this, luv 🥺💕 thank you so much for your kind words and take care of yourself as well! many kisses and hugs 🫶

“shoko, I need a place to hide!” you say, bursting into the infirmary. you take the small moment of shock that shoko is in to take a much needed breath.

“what did you do this time?”

you wordlessly raise the pregnancy test with slightly shaky hands and upon seeing it, shoko drops the poor sandwich she was eating. you close the door behind you before sitting down next her.

she smiles, “nice, I am going to be an aunt,” then she looks at you confused, “why are you hiding though?”

“I need time to figure out how I will tell him or more like—“ you look at the ceiling, “face him. he will probably figure everything out with his six eyes, but I don’t know how he will react,” you wrap your arms around yourself and shoko sighs.

“you guys didn’t talk about it yet?” she stands up and goes to get you a warm drink.

you gently rock yourself, “satoru already…has so much on his shoulders,” you bury your face in your arms, “I don’t want to add to that.”

she places the mug in front of you, “you do know that he got into this relationship willingly, right? you didn’t hold him at gunpoint or anything…or did you?”

you lightly punch her shoulders, but you take the mug, muttering a small thanks, “if anyone was held at gunpoint then it would be me.”

shoko chuckles and pats your head, “you need to be able to face him, y/n. he will find out anyway, and personally, I think you should have faith in his reaction more than that,” you lock eyes, “you know him more than anyone else, after all.”

your gaze falls to your drink. its surface is so still until you softly blow and it ripples, calm the chaos.

what if you don’t know satoru as much as you thought? what if having a kid will scare him away?  as the strongest, your husband has so much on his mind 24/7. will he be able to handle a baby as well?

while a part of you tells you that your husband is no coward nor is he so fragile, the other can’t help but think that perhaps this love story of 12 years will reach its end, a very tragic end even.

with the creation of a new life, ends a lifetime of feelings and events.

you snap out of your thoughts when you notice shoko shooing you into the closet room.

you hear the door open and you have a guess who it is. he makes himself known anyway, “shoko,  have you seen y/n?”

shoko quirks an eyebrow and gojo huffs, “okay, fine, I know she is here, but is she mad at me? did I do something?”

you have a feeling that he is looking directly at your eyes even through the closet’s door as he speaks, “y/n, I will take you out anywhere. I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. I hate when you’re upset with me, sweets.”

he is frowning lightly as he stares at the closet with hope. shoko sighs before walking out of the room, but not without patting his shoulder.

the door closes and satoru speaks up again, “can you please come out so we can at least talk about it?”

he hears your sigh and beams when you finally get out of the room, “there is my pretty girl.”

he has a flower bouquet in hand and he is looking at you so intently, but you don’t think he noticed the life growing inside of you now. he is far too focused on making you forgive him for whatever he did. you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

your hand moves and finally rests on your stomach.

his brows furrow lightly before his eyes widen. satoru’s breath hitches just like it did during your wedding. he places the bouquet aside before looking quickly between your eyes and stomach, “you are…”

you grip your own hands, nodding. tears start forming in your eyes till they finally fall and cries are what he sees now. your knees give out on you and you fall to the ground, now sobbing.

you are looking at the ground as you cry and hug yourself tighter, bracing yourself for whatever is coming.

satoru, almost instantly, finds himself on his knees in front of you.

his arms, like it’s second nature, pull you close into a warm and secure hug, “hey, hey,” he pats your back, a little clumsily, “if you don’t want it then it’s fine. you know I care about you the most,” his voice shakes a bit, “don’t cry please, you’re breaking my heart—“

“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” you repeat a mantra of the same phrase as you pull him even closer. satoru cups your face and the moment you’re met with the pair of blue eyes you love so much, you break down more, “I know you—probably don’t want it but—“

he tilts his head, utterly confused and maybe even offended, “what are you talking about? of course, I want it!”

the room is silent for a moment as you process what he says. it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you let out a shaky breath as you look down at your hands.

satoru rests his forehead on your own. his voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he speaks, “it’s our baby.”

the content smile on his face is almost unreal, “why in the world would you think that I wouldn’t want it anyway?” and somehow the pout on his face assures you even more.

your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you rest your head on his shoulder, “it’s just—I thought it would be burdening you with yet another responsibility. you have the world on top of your shoulders. how am I better than anyone if I weigh down even if it’s a different type of weight.”

“is it a weight for you?” he asks, voice hushed.

“of course not! I want—“ you answer immediately.

“there is your answer,” he chuckles and you look at his face once again.

you notice that he is tearing up. your satoru is tearing up, and the blindfold isn’t there to hide it nor are the glasses.

his eyes never leave yours as he says, with no waver on his voice, “I would pick you over everything else, every single time and in every single universe, silly girl.”

“you should know that already,” he flicks your forehead but the smile never leaves his face.

a soft laugh tumbles out of his lips as he pulls you in for a big bear hug, his form completely engulfing your own.

he fills tears stain his shirt, but he can only focus on your smile he feels on his skin and the fact that he voice out loud, “I will be a dad,” he sighs with contentment.

“and it’s all because of you,” he raises your face and nuzzles your noses together making you giggle, “we're going to be parents, you sweet pretty thing.”

satoru’s lips find themselves on your own in one very sweet and loving kiss. it’s soft, light, and gentle. yet it conveys all the words that he can’t get out at the moment.

when you pull away slightly, he quickly pulls you back for another, “I love you so much.”

he places a hand on your stomach, “and you too.”

“but don’t think I will share mama with you,” he sticks his tongue out at it, “she is mine!”

the baby is not even out of the womb, and yet he is already bickering with it.

you laugh and your chest feel so light. you kiss his cheek and his pout turns into a grin almost immediately. you hum, “infinity and beyond?”

his hand holds your own and he caresses your ring, “infinity and beyond.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[prettybean]

THEY CAUGHT YOU MASTURBATING (COD +18)

* fuck, I should really write car sex with Keegan

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

After a tiring day at work, you entered your room and finally found comfort by lying down on your bed. As you settled in, your hand slides down between your legs, feeling the stress gradually melt away. Soft moans escaped your lips until suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat.

Simon's voice broke the silence, “Is this what you do when you're not at work?”.

Filled with anger, you couldn't help but scream at him: “Fucking bastard”.

“Close the door next time.” He told you in response, before nonchalantly walking away.

Soap

"Hey-". He enters your room without bothering to knock, finding you in a compromising position, desperately trying to come thanks to your fingers. You noticed him, covering yourself as quickly as you could with a blanket.

"I'm sorry-". You see his face turn bright red, especially after hearing your laugh. You find him cute, so you decided to try and see how far he would go, pushing his limits: "What? Do you like what you see?" At your challenging words, he leaves the room almost running, tripping over his own feet down the hall.

Price

He has no respect for your privacy. He barges into the bathroom while you're changing, enters your room while you're asleep, and even catches you in the act of pleasuring yourself.

You've become desensitized to it all and continue to masturbate without batting an eye. He loves watching you with a smirk, sitting at a distance, and encourages you with praises.

"Keep it up, babe. You're doing great. Go deeper with those fingers. I'm so proud of you."

Gaz

You've been close friends for what feels like an eternity, perhaps even longer than you can remember. Throughout the years, he has witnessed you in every conceivable scenario... except for this one. Without warning, he barged into your office, catching you in the act of pleasuring yourself with a vibrator.

Unaware of his presence, you continued. You were oblivious to his presence, so he quietly shut the door, allowing you to continue uninterrupted. He stood glued to the door, with one ear pressed against it. He covertly savored your moans and the vibration of the sex toy, peering through the keyhole with one hand between his legs

Alejandro

“Mi amor, have you seen my shirt?”. He said walking into your room, seeing you with his shirt on masturbating.“Fuck, you're really having fun,” he laughed, seeing how you immediately closed your legs trying to hide yourself with the hands.

“Don't hide, love, I love seeing how desperate you are.” Alejandro teased you, spreading your legs forcefully, putting his face in between.

“Leave it to me, okay?”. You nodded, feeling his tongue begin to pleasure you. “If my shirt isn't wet when I'm done, I'll punish you.”

Graves

There were no secrets between the two of you. You pleasured yourself quietly, without any fear of being caught. However, it bothered him. He despised the fact that you were enjoying yourself without him, which only made you want to do it more intentionally. Most of the time, he would catch you with two fingers inside, moaning his name loudly. "How many times do I have to tell you to do it in front of me?" he says sternly, as he removes your hand from between your legs and replaces it with his own.

"Come on, baby, be a good girl/boy and give me another one. Only I can touch you, got it?"

You adored his fingers; they always reached deeper than yours and drove you wild.

König

You were always busy, your phone never stopped ringing: whether it was for work or personal matters. The only time you could truly relax was at night.

You placed a pillow in the middle of the bed and slowly rode it, relishing in the sensation of the fabric against your sex. Just as you were about to climax, the phone rang. You answered it out of habit, and your boyfriend König's voice made you moan even louder.

"What are you doing, you naughty girl/boy?" he teased. “N-nothing”. You heard him laugh.

"Keep going," he instructed, "I'll stay on the line until you finish”.

Keegan

Keegan gave you a ride home like he always did after every date. However, today was a bit different. The man sitting next to you looked even more attractive in the evening, which got you incredibly excited. You didn't want to distract him, he wasn’t a good driver, so you discreetly squeezed your legs together, trying to alleviate the discomfort in between.

As your panties started to get wet, you subtly opened them and ran a hand over your own inner thigh. "You alright?" He asked, noticing your flustered state. "Yeah, I'm just feeling hot," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Are you sure? I bet that's the issue, you naughty little thing," he said with a satisfied smile, slowly sliding his hand between your legs.

———

car sex with Keegan here

[prongsiepotter]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

[yourlovermumu]

Okay… hear me out

Teacher Miguel giving extra credit to virgin student but she has to let him f her 😱

“Um mr O’Hara we shouldn’t be doing this..”

While she’s getting destroyed

“Oh and you act like you don’t love it”

OH I AM HEARING YOU OUT ALR

warning: non con, teacher-student non con, full nelson, blackmailing.

dont like it dont read it i dont wanna traumatize you.

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

you have been failing your classes A LOT recently. you had terrible scores on all of the subjects, but especially spanish.

and it didnt help that your love life and everything else was a mess right now, how could you study in this situation?

but you really had to pass this time.

so what do you do? cheat of course.

problem is you werent sneaky enough and now your being called to your spanish teacher's office because he caught you cheating.

you nervously bit your lip and just stood at the door to his office, just standing there for a good while and you honestly were debating onto wither you should make a run for it or not however you decided you better meet up with him fast before you get into more trouble.

and so here you were, sitting on the soft cushions of the black couch in his office as you fidgeted with your fingers, scared to make eye contact with him because of the consequences of your actions.

and it definitely didnt help that he was silent the whole time, writing on a notebook calmly as he occasionally glanced over to the stack of papers on his desk that you assumed were test papers.

the very test that you cheated on.

perhaps he was writing reports on the test perhaps he was not but did he really need to do this right now? couldnt he have done it before or after he was done with you?

''ahem.'' rang a deep voice through out the room.

you snapped your eyes back from your lap, looking up at him startled.

'''now then, (name), would you care to explain as to why you decided to cheat on your spanish test, hm?'' he questioned with a raise of his eye brow and a nonchalant expression on his face.

you gulped.

''..uhm...i- i am sorry-! i wont do it again! i am sorry!'' you apologized desperately.

he shook his head, getting up from his seat and walking toward you. you almost backed away when he reached for your chin and lifted it up with two fingers.

''shh...'' he hushed you.

''thats not what i asked of you, now was it? i didnt want an apology. i wanted an explanation. i'll ask again...'' he paused as if to let you process his words in your dumb little head slowly.

''why did you cheat?'' he repeated.

you were silent. unsure of what to say or do. dumbly looking at him, frozen in place.

''answer me.'' he said a lot more firmly now.

and you knew if you didnt reply right now you would really regret it. so mustard up the courage to push out a few words out of your mouth, albeit coming out in stutters.

''Í had to- i am sorry- shit- i just really need to pass this time. i-i didnt- god- i shouldnt have! i really am...sorry.''

hearing your words, miguel o'hara smirked, letting go of your chin as he looked to you a smugly.

''ah, is that so? then you should've just told me so from the beginning, doll.''

his words confused you greatly. what did he mean by that? but you really didnt need any further explanation when he leaned down, placing beefy arms on both sides of your head as he leaned in to whisper in your ear in a low deep sensual voice.

''you could've just told me you were struggling...i would've helped you. all you had to do was ask, doll.'' he said as he brushed a hair strand behind your ear before cupping your face with his large hands.

''in fact i would give you extra credit and the best marks possible if only you did me a little favor...''

''...what?'' your heart was beating against your ribcage. you wanted to deny all this. no it wasnt happening right now. no this isnt true. is this going where you think it is?

but it was. it was very very real.

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

''fuck-- yeah... your doing great.'' he praised. one hand placed on the crown of your head, running his hand through the silky hair and occasionally tugging and tightening his hold on your hair when you your tongue swiped against the veins on his cock or if you deep throated him suddenly without warning.

''k---keep going...'' he groaned as he couldnt help but throw his head back, gritting his teeth because of the pleasure you gave him.

you took him out of your mouth slowly, licking his long member along the way and swirling your tongue on it when you reached the tip, sucking it into your mouth afterwards as you closed your eyes.

''eyes on me, muñeca.'' he huffed, running a hand through his hair. ''keep your eyes on me when you suck my cock. look at me.''

''yes professor...'' you mumbled with his tip in your mouth, causing your words to come out muffled and sent vibrations through his dick. he let out an whimper at the feeling and quickly sinks his teeth into his plush lips to prevent it from happening again.

it felt so good inside your mouth. warm and tight. the feeling of your tongue on his cock, the feeling of being able do something so sinful with you, not to mention how pretty you look taking his dick.

it all drove him insane.

''f-fucking hell, cariño...stop teasing''

you blinked up at him at his words. watching the way his cheeks were slightly flushed and how his eyes were slightly glossy as he breathed heavily, gritting his teeth.

as much as you would like to deny it...the sight was turning you on.

you didnt give him a verbal response. instead you took him in your mouth in one go, deep throating him. he gasped audibly. his hands tightening on your hair.

you bobbed your head up and down, though tears treathened to spill from your eyes from taking him in so deep you knew better then to do this half-assedly. your grades depended on it!

his eyes become shut as he cums with a loud groan. spilling his seed into your mouth. and you finally take him out of your mouth, and just when your about to spit out his cum--

''shallow. all of it.'' he orders sternly. and you end up obeying, because what good would it do you to disobey him?

''good girl...so obedient.'' he chuckled, his breath still heavy as he recovered from his orgasm.

''but..i am gonna have to test just how obedient you can be, doll.'' he smirked wickedly before grabbing you by the arm, lifting you up and pulling you close to him.

''let me fuck that pretty pussy, doll. let my cock be inside you. i'll fuck you real good, i promise.'' he whispered sensually as he used his thumb wipe your chin before running it along your bottom lip.

''this- this wasnt what we agreed on professor...'' you mumbled, averting your eyes from him shyly.

he laughed.

''oh my sweet little princess....did you really think i would just let you go without fucking your tight little cunt? did you really think i was that nice?'' he cooed, a smug smile on his lips.

''undress. right fucking now.'' he commended. it was stern and serious, you could tell he wasnt joking around.

you hesitated. not knowing what to do. should you just make a run for it? and tell everyone what he tried to do? no that would mean they would know what you did. voices rang inside your head, making you freeze in place.

what should i do what should i do what should i do what should i--

''listen here, princess.'' he began. his voice snapping you from your train of thoughts.

''you either let me do whatever i want with you obediently or....i take you right here and now, forcefully, and you lose your mind while taking my cock''

you shivered at the threat. yet it wasnt because of fear, no.

it was a different feeling. a feeling you so desperately wanted to deny. yet the wetness coating your panties proved you wrong all the more.

''s-sir...'' you looked up at him almost pleadingly, unsure of the situation and as much as you wanted this you were gonna stick to your will. your not some submissive little lamp. theres no way your gonna give in to him this easily, right?

''you said...you'll help me if i just..sucked your cock..did you lie to me?''

he chuckled. A dark eerily chuckle that made you shudder.

''princess...me? lie to you? no sweetheat...i am no liar. your just stupid.'' he kissed your cheek in an loving manner yet the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes radiated no such loving warmth.

''your just so stupid its cute. it makes me want to just devour you. its cute how you struggle, its cute how trusting you are, its cute how naive you can be, its cute how you squirm when your scared, everything about you..top to bottom, everything is just so adorable.''

he kept going on and on as you struggled, squirming like an desperate little prey.

''but you promised-! you cant just- professor...you really wont do this to me, will you? why would you...lie to me professor? why me?''

he smiled at your words.

''heres the thing, cariño...you shouldnt trust men.''

he caressed your cheek, a smile still gracing his lips as he spoke.

''not men like me...not men like me who are so desperately in love with you. because god how could i let go of you once i got the chance to have you like this? i just cant, mi vida.''

he leaned in, pressing his lips onto yours, slowly opening his mouth to deep the kiss and encourage you to do so as well by caressing your cheek softly.

''let me fuck you.''

''i promise...i wont hurt you. i'll be gentle.'' he spoke against your lips, kissing them desperately like he craved for every single bit of your body, mind, and soul.

turns out...you were an submissive little lamp. because what else would you be if you so willingly gave into all of this fucked up stuff?

nothing but a stupid little submissive lamp.

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

''ugh-- please--- mmfp-!'' you moaned as your hands dug into the softness of the coach.

''please what, baby? speak.'' he chuckled as he bounded into you hard, lifting your legs with his forearms and pinning them to your shoulder.

he had you in full nelson, continuously making you bounce up and down on his dick.

''f-fuck..your so tight...'' he groaned. ''are you a virgin or something? heh...''

you whimpered out a breathy ''y-yeah..o-oh''

''hm?'' he bounced you up and down on his length effortlessly as he breathed heavily against your ear.

''what did you say, cariño?'' he questioned, not because he was teasing, but actually because he didnt catch what you said.

''i s-said-- oh m-my god...'' you stuttered. your mouth hanging open from how good he was hitting you.

''you were so opposed to letting me fuck your cute little cunt minutes ago...look at you now. your just drooling for my cock, arent you baby?''

he smiled as he re-angled your hips. making him hit a certain spot inside you, you whimper in response.

''aw...so cute. your just fucked dumb on your professor's cock, arent you?''

he laughed before lifting you up higher then usual and holding you there for a little over 1 second and then slamming you back down making air get knocked out of your lungs.

''tell me you love my cock, cariño. that you want my cock to make you feel good. that you want me and only me to fuck you like this. you dont want anyone else to touch you like this, right?''

''n-no..'' you managed to let out. ''y-your the first person t-to fuck me like this professor...i-i love your cock professor..give me more-! i want more-! m-make me cum again please..!'' you babbled on.

''yeah? nobody fucked you as good as me, baby? thats a shame. but dont worry...you dont have to think about any of those guys that you fucked around with anymore...not when you have me baby.'' he pulled your head back to pull you into a messy kiss. slipping his tongue inside your mouth as he groaned at how tightly your cunt hugged his cock.

''n-no i- i never...mhmp-! did things like this before..'' you let out an in breathy voice, huffing and panting when he pulled back from the kiss.

''...what?'' he questioned. his hands on your thighs coming to a halt. ''you never did things like this before, cariño?''

''no..'' you confirmed.

''hey hey...but that would mean..'' his eyes widened at the realization and you simply gave him an hesitant nod.

''...did i just take your virginity, angel?'' you bit your lip in response as you squirmed in his lap, your head still turned behind to look at him.

''y-yeah..'' you mumbled.

he groaned at that. and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

''your joking...no way..''

''i am no--'' you were cut off my your own moan as his grip on your thighs tightened again, as he thrusted in and out of you in an inhuman pace.

''w-wait-- slow down- nnhghh...''

he didnt listen. nor could he make sense of anything right now when his mind was going crazy by countless thoughts. he couldnt believe he was your first. and the thought made him completely lose it.

its not his fault though. you brought this upon yourself the moment you believed him when he said he'll be gentle with you.

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

ALR I AM SORRY THIS TOOK LONG I GOT THIS ASK WHEN MY EXAMS WERE GOING ON

and i am sorry i kinda switched things up a bit but i still hope you like it <3

[spideyhexx]

i NEED more sejanus teaching coryo how to pleasure reader!! 😭😭

don't we all! This is more just experimenting? Idk we'll see, it's still something!

mdni

am having this thought about being at the library at the academy and you're studying alone, waiting for Sej and Coryo to join you.

They're not far from you. They're almost lurking near some bookshelves, talking about whatever class and whatever final they need to work on while Sej is looking for some book.

Coryo is very focused on you though. His gaze keeps slipping from Sej to you, a determined look on your face and a small crease in your brow as you go back and forth between reading and writing.

Sejanus notices and bumps his shoulder into the taller man's. "I bet you can't get her on her knees under the table."

Coryo doesn't expect something dirty to have come out of Sej's mouth and he looks at him, his eyes wide. "I can do that."

Sej gives him a little smirk. "Good luck." And then he's shoving Coryo forward towards you.

And poor Coryo, he really does try! He sits next to you and feigns interest in what you're doing, but you know this! His hand on your thigh is a dead giveaway, but you entertain it, wanting to see what he does.

Coryo would help you, recite stuff from the book you have open so you can jot it down in your study notes, his hand still on your thigh and rubbing it gently. He'd even try to mimic the curling of his fingers.

"You want something, Coryo?" You ask him finally and he swallows. He hates losing and now that the idea of you under the table with his cock down your throat is caressing his mind, he needs to make sure he wins the little bet Sej offered.

He takes your hand that isn't holding a pencil and puts it over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. The gesture is bold for him. You squeeze him through his pants and he bites on his tongue.

"I have work to do, sorry Snow." And then you're letting go of him and turning back to the papers and books in front of you.

Coryo leans in closer, his hand rubbing higher up your thigh. "I know, but maybe you need a little break? Refresh your mind?"

You chuckle at that and shake your head, "I'm good, Coryo." He's just about to beg you instead, but he doesn't let himself. He wants you to be the one begging to take his cock right here in the library, but he lacks the right skill to convince you it seems.

"I'll be right back," he mutters and stands up, walking away and disappearing in the bookshelves to find Sej laughing to himself.

"Very funny, thank you," he snarks at Sej. "Why don't you go try?"

Sej points to himself with a humorous smile on his face and pats Coryo's shoulder. "As you wish." Coryo watches from afar as Sej sits opposite you with the book he picked out.

For a good five minutes, the both of you sitting in silence. Then he sees Sej's head turn up and he seems to ask you something but Coryo can't hear. Once you respond, Sej is moving to sit next to you and Coryo finds a closer place he can eavesdrop.

You let go of your pencil and shake your hand out. "Oh, baby, you've been writing too much, here," Sej coos at you and reaches for your hand, massaging it in his own, effectively making you move closer to him.

Coryo rolls his eyes at it.

You lean your head down against Sej's shoulder as he massages your hand and Sej kisses your head. "You've been working so hard."

"I know, it's finals kicking my ass." Sej chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle.

"You'll be okay, baby, you're so smart and pretty." You laugh, holding onto his hand and kissing his knuckles just like he did yours.

"Being pretty has nothing to do with passing my finals."

Coryo seethes from his spot and he feels like he genuinely wants to punch Sejanus.

"Perhaps, but you're still my pretty girl, hm?" You nod and look up at the boy and his big brown eyes. Sej cups the side of your face with one of his hands, his thumb tracing underneath your bottle lip.

"You want to take a little break?" All you can do it nod and he kisses your forehead. "Good girl, you deserve it." Another kiss to your forehead, followed by a trail of them down your nose until his lips are lingering right over yours.

"You want me in your mouth, pretty girl? Can suck on me nice and slow, just relax?"

No words escape your lips, your body only knowing how to nod at this point and Sej takes a quick look around the library before helping you onto your knees between his legs.

You'd lock eyes with Coryo while your mouth is stuffed with Sej. Coryo hates that he loves it. Loves watching you do something so dirty despite the fact he lost the bet. That regardless if he's fooling around with you two, he's basically spying right now.

Sej's fingers dip under your chin and your gaze diverts back to the man above you.

"Only look at me right now, baby, okay?"

let's chat about sejanus, coryo, or both, here :)

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[vixensbrainrotts]

Aren’t you jealous? — Takashi Mitsuya

Content: short fluff

Tropes: established relationships, miscommunication

Warnings: not proof read

Summary: You and Mitsuya who have an undying trust in one another. So much so that when Mistuya is being too nice for his own good and then struggles under the reprocution, you just sit back, grin, and watch.

Vixen's two cents: hey! This has been collecting dust in the back of my drafts so I've decided to give it some love and let it see the light of day. I love mitsuya till the day I die and it's only a matter of time till I write something for Hakkai too (cutie). Anyway, remember that my requests are open if you have au idea you'd like to see! Now enjoy!

You take joy in watching Mitsuya grow uncomfortable around the overly-friendly girl who’s hanging off him like a tick. You had told him that she was no good before but he didn’t seem to care all that much, assuring you that he could handle it. Look who’s laughing now.

And when Hakkai comes up to you, face tinged pink with confusion (perhaps frustration?), and asks you why you’re not doing anything. You just smile and say “He can handle it, and if not I’ll know when to step in.”

Kai's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his jaw basically hitting the floor. "What do you meannnn?" he whined in disbelief. "I mean that he did that to himself, I told him not to." You looked far too relaxed for Hakkai's liking and leaned back against one of the bar chairs on the kitchen island, one hand supporting your chin, the other grasping your drink.

"Youre just gonna let that happen?" Hakkai prompts again, completely baffled. "Yeah, look, he's coming crawling to me already." You smirk teasingly and nod your head in their direction. Mitsuya, clearly displeased, was weaving his way out of the girl's grasp, making a bee-line to where you and Hakkai were, but ever incessant on wooing him, the girl followed right after him.

"Hey there." you started once he entered your circle. Mitsuya and you made brief eye contact, his gaze screaming a plea before he looked to Hakkai, to whom he gave a weak greeting. “Hi.” He breathed, voice exhausted and annoyed as he rested both arms on the counter he was lying on.

"You seem... glowing." Hakkai tries to comment awkwardly, seeing the girl weasel her way to where the three of you are standing. Mitsuya only offers a disgruntled groan in return.

"Takashiiiiii! Are these your freindssss? you wanna introduce me already??? Hahahahahahah that's so sweet!!" The girl squealed and clung herself to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Your ears rung at her obnoxious laughter, the noise foreign and fake. The air grew uncomfortable when Mitsuya didnt respond,so she took the liberty of introducing herself, drawing out the short speech with elaborate (unnesseary) details, reaching over the counter to shake your hand.

You only looked at her, unimpressed, and look at her a bit pitifully. "This is the catch of the night Mr. Mitsuya?" you smiled down at the heap of a man, and he groaned in response. "Yes Mrs. Mitsuya, it seems that something got caught up in my net." It was a running gag between you two- and your friends to some sort: Mr and Mrs despite not being wed. It was clear that it was forever between you two though, so everyone just kinda went with it.

Little Miss disturbance didn't know of that though, and upon looking down at your hands and finding one (the wrong) ring finger embezzled with a promise ring, her mouth widened. Jaw on the floor and hands clammy, she slowly stepped away from Takashi and retreated. Fast. "It was, ah, uhh, pleasure meeting you mr and mrs mitsuya, let me know if you ever need a babysitter.”

Hakkai laughed out loud and clutched his stomach “You’re the best y/n! Man you totally owned her just now! Fuckin' wear the pants!" Te laughed and clapped a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, who had still not risen from his slumped pose. "You better not hire her though, I'll do it for free, swear I wanna watch your little beasts <3" Hakkai's voice had a serious edge now and he looked at you. "Make sure to tell me if he ever dares to treat you wrong. I'll rock his shit!"

Sighing you nod at Hakkai with a smile "Thanks Kai. Will do." you rounded the kitchen island and came to stand to next Takashi, resting your hand on his arm. "Good evening Mr. Mitsuya.” he pulled his head from the counter. "Good evening Mrs. Mitsuya." his drowsy eyes met yours - smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smiled back, and before long your lips met his in a soft exchange of endearment.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Hakkai turn red and turn away with a shy smile on his face too.

[lucysarah-c]

Let’s say Levi has a crush on reader but someone else also is pursuing reader. This someone else could be on a similar level to Levi but not necessarily his friend. I just more like to see what people think Levi would act like if he finally talks himself into pursuing reader but turns out he has “competition” in a way

Thank you if you answer this 🫶

Gasp Ah…. I LOVE THIS.

How are you?! Sorry for the late reply! Don't thank me for answering! Thank you for coming to my blog and asking.

Mh, LOVE IT. You know… have you listened to the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift? Haha, well, that's Levi LMAO.

I feel, with a hand on my heart, y'all know I love this man, but he simply cannot compete with someone in any field related to social implications. Has Levi finally talked himself into pursuing someone and trying to get his feelings across? Great, he thinks—I'll clarify—HE THINKS that he's being rather OBVIOUS. Maybe for those who know him, they would also notice Levi is interested in this person because he's not behaving like his regular self. But for the poor reader he's trying to court? … he's simply being nice HAHA.

This man would think that stopping by that person's job (if they have a bakery, tea shop, etc., for example) regularly, buying, and having a very small chit-chat is "flirting." He thinks that, if this person is a scout, asking them if they need anything from downtown or if they want a tea is CLEAR that he wants something with them. No.

So if someone else is pursuing the person he loves and has more social skills than him (which is not something hard to have), there's a high chance that person would take the lead in the "race for the reader's heart." Maybe they are more outgoing, charismatic, extroverted, etc., and they take the lead. Levi would be jealous, 100%. He would get grumpy, angry, etc., but always at himself.

I can picture him muttering and cursing at himself under his breath while working, "I'm an idiot, I'm stupid. YoUr HaIR DoESn't lOOk ThAt ShITTy toDAY," mocking his own voice, and then groaning in frustration. "… my mom must have dropped me as a baby or Kenny's kicks really damaged my brain. I can't be this stupid," realizing that this other person says "smooth shit," as he would call it, and he simply can't.

Especially because Levi's love language is acts of service… mixed with degradation lmao. "Give that, you're going to drop it," and he will carry stuff for them. "You look like shit, tch, just sit down, I'll do it," and he brews them a tea and brings them something to eat.

Levi is a grower in people. I can 100% see him having feelings for this person for months, years perhaps. Maybe they even consider and go for a relationship with Levi's competitor, and it doesn't work out, etc., and they have grown close to Levi. Something he says or does makes the reader snap and say, "… are you flirting with me, Captain?"

Levi would look stoic as ever but slightly defeated mixed with embarrassment and say, "Yeah, for the past year. Thank you for finally noticing."

(extra scene)

Levi alone in his office: "Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me."

I'll tag people on this one because I had a blast writing it. Thank you so much, you made my birthday lmao.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[i23kazu]

A SERIES OF BEAUTIFUL MOMENTS

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. ough. . | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

the aftermath of a bloody fight. the remains of a hilichurl lay in front of you, disintegrating back into abyss particles. it's a sad sight, but it had to be done – xiao looks at you, nodding in approval. you did well, for a healer who hates taking away lives, he says. the two of you turn back to center your gaze on the flaming battlefield. some things are meant to be killed.

zhongli

when he mourns for his old life, with old friends, old students, old sights. he buries his head in your lap, the ex-archon's tears staining your hanfu. it's okay to cry, my dear, it's okay to cry, you remind him –it doesn't get any better. grief doesn't come easier after those hopeful words. zhongli can only hope that it will come easier, with your presence in his life.

diluc

brushing his hair after a night of vigilante activities – diluc hisses when your thumb presses on a sore spot, and you gently shush him with a stroke on his neck. i'm sorry, diluc, just hold on a while longer and i promise i'll be done soon – you whisper gently, cupping his face in your hands as you turn his head slightly to the side to check for more scrapes and scratches.

kaeya

braiding flowers into his cobalt blue hair – kaeya laughs when your fingers graze against a sensitive spot. you laugh and tease him, your fingers deftly braiding the daisies you both gathered earlier into the tight braid that was in your hands. it's a serene night – a vast contrast from the previous, turmoil-filled nights. the archons know that both of you need it.

childe

playing tag with the children, with a very exhausted ajax sprawled out on the ground and pretending to pant and gasp for air – alright, perhaps he's not pretending anymore. teucer sits on his torso, poking his sides until his beloved big brother gets up and tickles him until the little boy shrieks. childe leans against your lap, and you stroke his hair until he falls asleep, teucer cuddled up next to him.

neuvillette

waking up in the morning, with your two melusine daughters giggling and jumping on your bed. they startle awake a previously-snoozing neuvillette. he smiles lightly as he greets the girls good morning, who leap off the bed and eagerly run to the kitchen. your husband turns over to look at you – a sweet moment of respite, before kissing you on the lips and turning back to the chaos-filled morning.

alhaitham

reaching for a book that's too high, only to realise that your boyfriend can reach for it with ease. alhaitham bends down to listen to your request, before simply nodding and reaching for your much sought-after book. he smiles gently, afraid that you'll be afraid and intimidated by him... like everyone is. your soft, sweet words of gratitude please him instead. thank you, alhaitham.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[thewriteblrlibrary]

A Step-by-Step Marketing Guide so we can spite traditional publishers (and make people cry).

~ This is a guide specific for fiction/writeblr. All of this is for free and there is little social media posting/ads involved (unless you want to venture into that). ~

Within the writeblr spheres, there's this underlying hope that our stories will find their audience. Perhaps we'll have a fandom full of fanart and video essays, or maybe we'll be an instant classic and sit on collectors' beloved bookshelves. Our stories could sit within the deepest corners of someone's heart and maybe they never tell a soul about what's so special to them. Maybe our stories become those 'underrated masterpieces'.

Or we just want to see people ugly cry over our writing.

Whatever your hope may be, marketing is an important path to venture on (especially because traditional publishers are rejecting diverse books in favor of ones that are already famous + the whole sub-par machine thing they seem obsessed with.)

And thus, my childhood marketing obsession will hopefully be of use to you. This is all for free (unless you want to spend money) and you don't need to figure out social media platforms (unless you want to, and this guide works if you decide to take that route too.)

Step One: Characters

Marketing spheres will define these fictious people as 'avatars' or 'the target audience'. You could also call them characters. Because that's what they are: fictional people.

For this step, you shall create characters that would love your story.

And here's some great news: You've already done this.

Perhaps you wrote your story to comfort a prior version of yourself. Perhaps each character in your story holds an aspect of your personality. Perhaps you were ridiculously self-indulgent and made the story you would've loved to read. These are all possible characters you can reuse for marketing.

Write down 2-4 quick archetypes for these characters. You'll chose an aspect of your story (characters, themes, or the younger-self that you wrote it for) and write a thumbnail sketch. (Main issue, fears, wants, personality traits if they relate to the main issue.)

I'll do it for my story (the Land of the Fallen Fairies) down below:

Anuli-like (my MC): Overthinking and aloof. Wants a happy ending but thinks their current personality/character isn't good enough for one. The present stales in comparison to the past/the childhood they lost. The 'gifted theater kids'. Kamari-like (side character): Postpones happiness in favor of creating a perfect schedule/getting accomplishments. Heavy masking. Creative but doesn't create anymore. Promises themself they'll enjoy themselves later, when they've earned it. Workaholics. My younger self: Wanting a fantasy escapism to embody the traits they wish they had in real life. Dissatisfied and worried about reality. Perfectionists. Self-indulgent: People who love plants and forests and fantasy worlds far away from reality/humanity.

Great! Now it's time to find these characters.

Step Two: Setting.

(Let's assume you're using the internet for your marketing. But a similar method works for real life too.)

Where do the characters live?

In order to figure that out, we need to discover the characters' interests, what they watch to solve their problems, and who they find #relatable.

(You can do this for each character or for all the characters at once.)

For example:

Anuli-like -

interests: Stories. Analysis videos. Fantasy escapism. Things that remind them of their childhood. (so nature, warmth, comfort, play, imagination and the times they would actually enjoy learning.)

Places to look: Nature quotes, ambience videos, children's shows and fairytales (comfort shows). Fandom culture - fanfic video essays, fan art.

Solving problems (the problem being wanting a 'happy ending' but feeling that their personality/lifestyle/characteristics aren't right for one): Mindfulness things. Self-healing. Quotes and meditations and candles galore. Slow living. Nature vlogs. Self care. All that 'live in the moment' culture.

Places to look: Slow living. Nature vlogs. The 'softer self-help' (spirituality stuff. Magic/ overnight answers). Witchcraft. 'aesthetic nature' places. Guided meditations.

#relatable: Burnt out gifted kids. People who think so much that their life passes them by. Storytellers and creative who create to make sense of the world. People who like dark, gory things in spite of who they want to be. People who don't like reality.

Places to look: Those 'learn better and remember everything' places. (The 'burnt-out gifted kid' recovery places.) Stop overthinking spots. Those quotes on Pinterest from poetic people who think too much /aff. Storyteller places. Dark academia. Classical music. One off quotes/ poetry.

Okie dokie. Once you have this, find channels, social media accounts, blogs, songs, books, etc. that fit with the categories you wrote down. (They should appeal to the characters) You can search up some of the terms you listed into searches and see who pops up. Bonus points if you find people that overlap with multiple sections.

I know I didn't include booktube or booktok in here. You can if you want too. But those can be a bit... 'consume these 500 books'. You also want to find other places where people who would like you story live, even if they don't follow booktube or booktok.

Congrats! Now you know where your characters live!

Step Three: the scary part

Take everyone you found on your search for the settings and write them down a list. Make sure you get an email/contact info. (they usually list them somewhere under 'for business inquires') Also feel free to watch their content and get to know what attributes these settings have.

And now... we talk to them. about our stories. You can do it. I believe in you.

This called 'pitching your product' in marketing spheres. But you can be informal about it.

I know it can be difficult to talk about your work, so here's a tone to have:

'I made this thing I like and I think you'll like it too'.

What you'll do is send an email (or dm) that goes like this (inspired by Creative Hive on youtube):

Hi [name],

[Genuine compliment]

[Quick sentence or two about your story. Include the themes and who it appeals to. If you have a logline/sentence summary, include that. But I find that the underlying themes and 'who's it's for' is more engaging.

For my story, I might say something like.

I've written a story you might enjoy, since you like [interest]. It's called the Land of the Fallen Fairies. It's a nature-themed commentary on the pursuit of happiness and fixing yourself to deserve that happiness, told by an overthinking, unreliable, houseplant narrator. It was supposed to comfort me when I got frustrated with myself and my happiness chasing, and I hope it can comfort others too.

(That's probably a bit long and I can trim it down a bit.)

You can phrase it like a gift if you want too.]

[Call to action.

'If you like it, I'd appreciate a mention on your [platform].

I know this part may be difficult to mention (imposter syndrome is not fun.) But I promise that if they do like it, they'll be happy to mention it.]

If they don't respond within... four-ish days? (A week at most). then you can include a follow up. For this you can include a template with info about your story. This way it's easy for them to talk about your story.

The template:

title

genre

blurb

Author

where to find the book

Bonus points if you have an additional, physical thing to send them.

Congrats! Now do this pitching process a few times until you've covered most of your bases. (Pitch to as many people as you can. It will get more comfortable as you do it. Play your favorite song and don't let yourself think too hard about it.)

----------

The benefits of this process are that you find people that are already interested in the themes and vibes of your story (in comparison to to ads, which get shoved in everyone's faces.). Someone your audience already trusts will talk about it, which means you don't need to do all this trial and error to find your audience and make content for them.

It's basically a bunch of people talking about something they like!

AND you diversify your audience across niches, but with an underlying theme/interests. Booktok/booktube must appeal to everyone, so it's a hit or miss for recommendations. (Unless there is someone that specifically does one genre/type of story.)

From here you can do fun little things to build up hype and make the book launch feel like this fun event. (I love it when that happens so here's my thoughts about trying to create an event with your story... although that may require another post entirely.)

preorder goals

charity goals

Arg's and puzzles

fund with side plushies and trinkets

Book blog tour

book boxes

as many memes as you can make

rewards (like bookmarks or posters or smth) that people can get for supporting

Talk about the process of creating your story. I know this one channel called 'Dead Sound' that creates 'making of' videos for his short films and they are some of the best videos on youtube.

Okay dear storyteller! Now go forth and share your story with the world!

Additional resources:

Creative Hive <-- a youtube channel that goes through the pitching process.

This video is also very good <-- Haven't watched the rest of the channel but I assume it's also good.

One of the best marketing channels on the internet (the videos are actually entertianing to watch.

Seth Goldin <-- I read his book and took the parts I liked and modified for storytelling marketing.

Dead Sound <-- propaganda to watch the short film series he has (he did the whole 2-d 3-d style wayyyy before spiderverse did... and he's one person making these. One person. It's amazing.

Glitch <--- If someone can figure out how The Amazing Digital Circus was marketed then I will pay you money. It seems to be a lot of memes and funny things.

[deadandphilgames]

A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

[dotster001]

Request pls: Yuu's Harem

Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Idia, Malleus, Azul to gn!reader that helps them heal from overblot (unsure to add Vil cus he has Rook whom already does god's work everyday)

Reader just comes close to their space and sees if they're doing good. Then it evolves to asking about their day and about the world of TW to make convo. Then it turns to a friendship where Reader commends them for doing things beneficial and good for themselves in the day, then tells them "Good boy/good job!" at even the smallest things when they take care of themselves without Reader's help (beast tamer Yuu awakening)

Reader gives them a braided bracelet made by themself and they cherish it. But then one day the Vice/Other dorm leader notices the bracelet and goes "Ah, so you're officially part of the harem"

You can write either first or second paragraph I just wrote it all out for context of the second

Self Love and Braided Bracelets

A/N: I did a little bit of both 😁 I included Vil, because no offense to Rook, but someone who makes comments about someone's weight is not good for self love

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"So, I made this for you. You don't have to wear it, I just….I was making one and it kind of started to remind me of you," you handed Vil the gold and purple braided bracket you'd made the night before. He gently picked it up, seemingly unsure of how to feel about it.

"Also, I just want to say," you took a deep breath, "if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here to listen."

The look in your eyes was so heartfelt that Vil worried he'd tear up just from looking at it. 

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

Not that you'd ever know how raw you'd made him feel. Perhaps he was still too weak from his incident. It didn't matter. He was as composed and calm as ever.

A braided bracelet didn't exactly fit his wardrobe. But the next morning, his hand hovered over it, hesitating about not wearing it. So he slipped it on. His gut was never wrong, and it was telling him to wear it. Besides, his sleeves would cover it.

….

Months later, and Vil was now sitting at your lunch table. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed it when you would take a spoonful of food and feed it to him when he didn't eat enough.

Malleus Draconia, of all people, walked over to your table with a tray, his entourage in tow.

"Hey Mal Mal! I'll get us some more chairs," you said with a smile, getting up and beginning your hunt for seats.

Idia looked up from his silent eating, and pointed to Malleus' wrist.

"So you're part of the harem now, huh?"

"The what?" Vil muttered before noticing the green and black braided bracelet on Malleus' wrist.

"It's not a harem," Riddle said with a pout.

"What else would you call it?" Idia snapped, fiddling with his own bracelet that Vil was noticing for the first time.

"The turnip's got a point for once. It is very harem like," Leona snickered.

"Doesn't harem imply a romantic aspect?" Azul asked, looking up from his meal. 

"The flowers we all got for love day have a certain implication," Leona smirked.

"And the "I love you, have a great day! You matter to me!" Texts every morning also have an implication," Jamil muttered, clearly flustered by the conversation.

Idia nodded, and said, "It could also just be a friendly harem. You know, a harem of self love. Harems can be platonic."

"Platonic, huh?" Riddle sounded a little sad.

"It sounds like it really depends on Y/N's feelings," Vil spoke up finally.

Before the others could respond, you came back dragging a chair with you.

"Sorry that took so long! Who knew it would be so hard to find a chair?" You laughed.

Malleus sat down, and you looked over at  Idia.

"Idia, I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really proud of you for eating lunch with us."

"Thank you," Idia practically purred, the tips of his hair turning a light pink.

Vil shook his head with a light laugh. He looked at his fellow "harem mates", and realized that whether this was platonic, romantic, or something else, he was willing to see wherever it led.

[maidragoste]

Chapter Two: A United Front

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One Chapter Three

First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰

Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.

The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.

“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.

You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him��Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.

"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.

"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.

Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."

"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."

For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.

"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.

Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.

"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"

You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.

Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.

So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.

"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."

You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.

“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.

Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.

As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.

Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.

“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.

“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.

“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.

"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.

"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.

Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.

"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.

"What?"

"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.

"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.

It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.

“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.

Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.

You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”

Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.

He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.

Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.

"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.

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[exhaslo]

Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

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

You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

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

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)